The Lost Tale of Gandalf

The Balrog lay below him on the mountainside, both broken by the fall. His strength spent, Gandalf slumped to the snow-covered pinnacle of Zirak-Zigil, which had once been the height of the Dwarven Kingdom of Moria. Now it was ruined, just as was his body: torn and burned, he felt just as he imagined the earth did when the Fire of Udûn long ago scored Arda. The wizard's thoughts fled, and he forgot his flesh and the world itself. All he knew was the awareness of rising up into the heavens, stars all about him as he sped far across the expanse of Eä, until he escaped the bonds of time itself. Then he stood in a place that was nowhere, silent and yet glowing with light; the light which came from the eyes of the One who sat there unmoved. For a moment the former wizard basked in the light from which he had long ago been created, feeling the love of the Allfather.

Then Ilúvatâr spoke, His voice immeasurably deep and yet so gentle that it touched his audience like a feather: "Olorin, you were called, faithful servant of the Valar for many ages of the world. Other names did my Children give you, Gandalf, Mithrandir, Tharkûn, and yet your origin they did not know. I greet you now, for your old form was destroyed in battle against Morgoth's servant."

The Maia said then, "My Father, do I have leave to rest now? The struggle was long, and I learned the pain that your children feel in their lives, long or short. Yet I will keep every blessed memory close throughout eternity, for there is goodness in the hearts of those whom you created, and I love them as well."

The piercing eyes of Eru did not waver, but the voice returned, "You have showed your loyalty, Olorin, in resisting the Ring of Sauron, sending it away beyond your grasp lest you become one with its power. I know that was a difficult choice for you, as that would have been the one way to connect with the essence of he who was your dear friend before the Fall of Melkor. He was not always evil, but you have shown faithfulness to your charge no matter the temptation. Yet your work is not yet finished."

Olorin looked up then and wondered, "Is there hope for my friends, for Arda itself?"

Ilúvatâr's gaze was filled with kind rebuke, "Even your mistakes serve my ends. Yet those who carry on the fight will need your help before it is finished. Olorin, you at first yielded leadership of the Istari to Curunir, yet he has joined the machinations of Morgoth, though he does not allow himself to believe it. He will help Sauron rule Middle Earth, unless you take the place you have earned through your sacrifice. Become first of the Council, give aid to my children, and continue your service. Take hope with you, encourage your friends, and stand against folly until the battle is done."

The Maia bowed his head then, and said, "As you wish, Eru. I was grieved to leave Frodo, for I fear he may need my voice before he reaches Doom itself."

The Allfather smiled gently, "You should not fear for him; I have sent another to be my messenger, one whose spirit is wiser than wizards, stronger than shadows. The Ringbearer shall not be alone. Now go, take new form, my faithful one, and let your fire be stronger than ever before. The West shall die lest you tend the flames in the hearts of men."

Olorin closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he was lying once more on the peak of Silvertine, naked under the sky. He breathed, feeling the cold air, and slowly felt his mind returning to awareness of time. He could not move yet, for his restored body was yet weak, unused as his spirit was to the solidity of flesh. The wizard waited, in hope that somehow he would be able to leave that desolate place, and rejoin the War of Sauron's Ring.

One month later, Gandalf the White stood on a mountainside, peering into the West, and he saw the Eye of his Enemy staring back. Sauron knew that his ring was on the hand of a mortal. Gandalf knew that could only be one person: Frodo. He must be on Amon Hen, the seat of Eyes, where Men of Gondor long ago watched over their kingdom. The wizard swore in frustration; how could Frodo have been so foolish, to put the Ring on in such a place? Sauron would find him quickly. The hobbit was already becoming ensnared by the foul band that was the beating heart of that Maia who had long ago given his fealty to Melkor.

So Gandalf reached out and bent his will to forestall Sauron's gaze, to mask Frodo from that hateful mind. He was as a tree in the wind, barely holding back the onslaught, yet he did not break. The wizard heard the voice of the Enemy as he laughed, "You will not keep him hidden from me, Old Friend. It matters not you have come back, he is mine. You cannot save him."

Gandalf thought, Perhaps I do not have to. He called then to Frodo, hoping the hobbit could hear, "Take it off, you fool."

The wizard knew that his friend was at war, but trusted him to make the right choice, just as Bilbo had before him. Suddenly he felt the pressure released, and knew that Frodo had found the will, and removed the Ring just in time. Gandalf felt Sauron's gaze pass over Amon Hen, missing his quarry by a hair. His orcs would already be hunting the hills there for the Company, and Gandalf hoped that the Eight who remained would escape those foul clutches. Frodo still had a long path before him, and he had no inkling of the darkness he would face before reaching the Crack of Doom. Yet Gandalf remembered the important truth that he had kept in the deepest part of his mind; the Ringbearer would not go alone. The wizard knew his part in guiding Frodo was over; it was time for another to do what he had promised.

As he began climbing down from the mountainside, Gandalf heard Sauron's whisper before the Shadow receded back to Mordor, "My servants shall find you soon, Old Friend. They shall bring you to me, and then you will know what it costs to deny me. You could have had so much more in this world, Olorin, but you had to be righteous rather than wise. So you shall have and be nothing."

The wizard's last reply to the ancient Enemy was without hesitation, "It was wisdom that showed me that you devour even those you would have as friend. What good you could have done before vanity turned you into Melkor's imitator shall never be. Eat yourself endlessly, Sauron, when you meet him in the Void."

Olorin walked with his white staff down into the foothills, and called in his mind to Shadowfax. Haste was his need, and that mighty horse, Orome's own stock, would help the wizard return to the fight beside his friends.