Olórin; babe magnet
Tossing his shining blonde locks over his shoulder, Olórin sauntered out of his door into Valinor. Looking around him he saw several female maia gathered innocently in the vicinity of his home. He noted that they all glanced in his direction as they heard the door open, now to face the fan club he thought to himself and chuckled.
"Good morning Olórin!" he heard the first call as he began to walk down the street, turning he waived at the maiden and that sent her into a fit of childlike giggles. Olórin rolled his eyes and began to return numerous greetings and waves. Finally he reached the end of the street and once round the corner pulled out a pocket mirror just to check his hair hadn't been disturbed by the waving and greeting. No, still the immaculate state you left in he thought and smiled at his reflection.
Making his way to Taniquetil, Olórin pondered the reason he had been called to address the Valar. Probably some minor meeting or a small task they wished for him to perform. He smoothed out his light grey tunic before entering through the grand doors. Bowing low before the mighty Manwë and Varda he waited for them to instruct him.
"Rise Olórin," the holy voice commanded, "You have been summoned here for we have a great task for you through which you shall gain great honour and renown." Olórin looked up at his Lord and Lady expectantly. "We are sending messengers or emissaries to the Hither Lands. There will be many tasks for you and paths fraught with danger, but realms that need your aid and wisdom also."
Olórin suddenly felt rather uncertain about this new task, of course his Lord and Lady noticed.
"What troubles you Olórin?" Varda asked concernedly
"It is just that I have such a good life here…I do not wish to leave for battles and peril…" I cannot leave my beloved fans either he thought to himself and then realised what a stupid action it was to have private thoughts infront of his Lord and Lady. Manwë raised an eyebrow at him and he mumbled an apology "I am sorry for being ruled by my vanity…" he mumbled.
"If it is loosing your spectacular looks and in turn your admirers, you should not fear" Varda said with a quick glance and a wink to Manwë "For you shall be given a new form, one such greater than what you are now if you choose to go and follow the path we have set for you…" Olórin's eyes widened…a perfect form?! He was there!
"Thank you for this mighty opportunity! I will accept the task," he announced solemnly
"That is well then," began Manwë "you will depart now for the ships of the Teleri and then the Hither Lands with four others whom you know. May our blessing go with you!" Olórin nodded his thanks before bowing again and leaving the halls.
It was halfway on the journey across to the Hither Lands when the five Istari felt sudden changes coming over them. After few brief moments of confusion and calamity the Istari were in their new forms. Olórin felt strange. He couldn't feel the light brushes of his soft hair against his face, there was a strange warmth across the top of his chest and chin… in trepidation he reached his hand up to his lower face and then swiftly drew it away again in horror. There were straggles of thick and curled hair in the form of a beard, another touch to his hair confirmed that his hair had also suffered the same treatment.
With much anxiety he reached into his robes and found his pocket mirror, slowly bringing it up to eye level, Olórin viewed his new form. Wrinkles?!!?