The Beginnings of Gandalf

by im-so-nerdy

You know Gandalf as the brave, spell casting wizard he is in Lord of the Rings. But what was his childhood like, and what did he experience? This story goes right up to the very moment Gandalf meets Bilbo Baggins, smoking his pipe atop his hobbit hole.

Many moons ago, in the protection of homely hut, a young boy was born to a farmer. This story starts out as though it is the story of a regular kin of men, but it is not; it is the life story of Gandalf Stormcrow. His mother, the beautiful daughter of the village drunk, had fled the oncoming violence that the second age entailed. The woman, Georgianna, had beige skin that came with working on a farm, which complemented her flowing blonde hair and eyes the hue of the sky on a clear, fresh day. The father, named Ailill, was a simple man. His brown eyes glinted whenever he told his children stories of yore. He was strong because of the hard work he had done as a child to be the primary caregiver of his siblings once his father, Roman, took to drinking because of the death of his wife in childbirth.

This fact was what made it especially difficult for Ailill to cope when Georgianna expired shortly after breathing the name of her child.

"Gandalf." She murmured, as her choppy breath was cut short and her eyes fixated open permanently.

Ailill held the crying child in his arms and felt tears streaking down his own cheeks, as he realized that Georgianna was gone.

"Father?" a tiny voice winced. Ailill turned to see his eldest son, Fineen, peering into the candlelit room, tears forming at the edge of his eyes. The boy was only of eight, and as Fineen entered the room, candlelight glowing on his young round face, he held the hand of his other brother, Coilin, whose face was shriveled with tears.

"What happened to mother?" Coilin asked meekly, voice choked by tears.

Ailill did not answer, still holding the child, watching it cry.

"Father?" Fineen asked.

"She is dead!" Ailill yelled at last, pain registering within his heart. He fell to his knees and wept. Slowly, Coilin strode over to his father, placing his tiny hand within his father's, while Fineen took the child gently from his father's arms. He wrapped it in a blanket that had lay strewn aside on the stone floor and peacefully rocked the baby in his arms. He dared not to let his brother and father see the tears falling from his face.

After a length of time, Fineen had calmed down.

"What is the boy's name?" he asked, turning to his family after wiping his eyes.

His father looked up at him, tears clouding up his face, and replied.

"Gandalf."