I was pleased Olórin decided to stay on for a few weeks in Imladris. For all his shyness and reservedness, he was an altruistic, happy sort of person, and we got along quite well.
He seemed to prefer solitude above all else, but he would seek Glorfindel, Elrond, or me out when he wanted company, so we saw enough of each other to be content in the other's presence.
In the time we had alone, I slowly started to disclose to him how little I knew about myself as a Maia, and to my relief, he didn't judge me in the slightest. Quite the contrary, in fact: he started giving me lessons, as it were, on how to be a Maia. He was a patient and kind teacher, and thanks to him, I picked up a few handy-dandy healing spells and a touch of fire manipulation, not to mention some fascinating stories about the Maia life in Valinor.
It seemed, as well, that Olórin had a degree of trust in me, or at least that his curiosity was enough to make him overlook any fears. This became apparent when he produced the knock at my office door that made me look up from the second volume of my chicken comic.
"Hello there, Olórin," I greeted him with a smile as I stuffed my drawings away. "Come on in and pull up a seat."
I poured him a glass of water, which he accepted with a grateful laugh that made me giggle, too. To be fair, the gesture seemed rather superficial considering we had absolutely no need of sustenance, but I knew we both felt better for it anyway.
"Rhodri," he began after a moment, "do you only give counsel to the Elves?"
"Well, not exactly," I answered slowly. "Someone asked me to train their dog for them once."
Olórin blinked at me, seemingly unsure of whether or not I was being serious, and with a laugh, I clarified.
"My mainstay prior to coming to Middle-Earth was mortals. Elves are all I have worked with since then, because only Elves have come to me for help, but I do not restrict my services to any one race. Why? Is there something you think you might like to discuss?"
Olórin nodded. He read through the confidentiality and ethics agreements with a laugh, saying, "Is this really necessary? I will know automatically if you fail in any of your promises listed here."
"It is if you want to disclose anything to me in this capacity," I raised an eyebrow at him. "Humour me," I requested as he raised an eyebrow right back at me.
Laughing pleasantly again, he signed at the bottom of the page with a small G rune. An odd choice for someone whose name started with an O, but why the hell not? I liked his style.
"So tell me what's on your mind," I invited.
Olórin sighed. "I am not content, Rhodri," he confessed.
"Oh?"
"It is not for a lack of hospitality or good company," he added quickly. "Everyone has been most welcoming and gracious. But I do not see any real reason to be here." He cast his eyes down and folded his hands in his lap.
"No reason at all, Olórin?" I asked. "It seems rather odd for a group of five Maia--out of the hundreds of us that exist-- to be chosen at random and shipped over here. Do you believe this was all up to chance?"
Olórin frowned a little as he considered my question. "I do not suppose the Valar chose lightly," he conceded after a moment.
"Do you regret being among the chosen?"
He looked around like he wanted to speak but was afraid of the consequences.
"Keep in mind that you signed a document which binds me to secrecy," I reminded him, conveniently leaving out that there was no magic that would see me dematerialise should I violate the agreement.
It did the trick, though, as it mollified him a little. He pulled his chair up closer to my desk, and I did the same. Cautiously, he began to speak.
"To be truthful," he professed, "I did not wish to come to Middle-Earth in the first instance. I wanted to stay in Valinor and continue my tutelage under Lady Nienna."
"Is the disruption to your plans with Lady Nienna the reason you did not wish to travel to Middle-Earth, though?" I looked him straight in his rheumy, grey eyes. "Surely this isn't the first time you have had to forgo your original plans to do the bidding of another."
Olórin watched me shrewdly, brows knitted, and after a moment seemed to accept his discomfort. He rubbed his forehead wearily, letting out a puff of air.
"I am afraid of Sauron and to be sure, I am not strong enough to be of use here," he rumbled quietly. "When I voiced my concerns, though, Manwë told me that that was all the more reason for me to go as one of the Istari."
Ah. So it came down to fear, feelings of inadequacy, or perhaps both.
I couldn't blame Olórin for bricking over having to deal with Sauron. Imagine growing up in the sort of place where euphoria and virtue are the norm, only have your mentors pack you up and post you off to a strange, hostile land to help fight against one of their errant students. I'd hate it, too, and there was only so much I could really do for that.
Feelings of inadequacy, however-- those are a whole other beast. They're born of insecurity, thrive on skewed perceptions of ability, duties and self-worth, and die in the face of reality and confidence. Insecurity was absolutely something I could help with. But if it was there, what was driving it?
"Well, look, I think a fear of Sauron is perfectly reasonable. He is very powerful, and as you will have heard from Elrond, he has managed to cajole quite a large amount of the populace into doing his bidding," I said openly. "In fact, I think a lack of fear would be quite foolhardy."
Olórin watched me speak, and seemed to be a little surprised that I was admitting freely that I would find it unhealthy if he didn't show any signs of worry about our villain. He raised his eyebrows a little, but accepted my opinion well enough.
"But," I continued, "I'd like to look a little closer at your idea of strength. Tell me, exactly what is it that you should be capable of doing here? Are you hoping to be able to administer a few hard punches and single-handedly kill Sauron that way?"
Olórin pursed his lips at my ridiculous statement, saying nothing.
"My use of exaggeration doesn't negate the fact that I asked you a question, Olórin," I prompted him. "But even if you don't tellmethe answer, at least tell yourself."
The silence continued, but this time I could see the cogs were whirring in Olórin's head, presumably as he outlined his own expectations. I was going to move on to the next question, but then he spoke.
"It feels like I have to find a way to defeat Sauron through mobilising everyone in Middle-Earth to take him on," he mumbled, rubbing his thumbs together.
"Was that what was asked of you by the Valar?"
Olórin paused. "It was not."
"What was asked of you?"
"That I would counsel and assist those who oppressed Sauron."
"That request seems a lot smaller than that which you are asking of yourself," I said to him, adding, "not that your actual instructions do not entail a large task. They certainly do, but you are a counsellor here, not a general or a monarch."
"Perhaps I am too weak even for that," he muttered softly, half to himself and half to me.
"Keep in mind, Olórin," I continued, "that you were not sent to shoulder all of this yourself. You came as one of a group of five," I held up five fingers, "to travel around Middle-Earth and unite various peoples together. I know that might seem intimidating, but you are already doing an exceptional job. I can see that Elrond, a very influential figure, is already very pleased to have met you."
His shoulders un-tensed a little as he kept watching me.
"Do you know, Olórin," I said as I stood up and took the checkers board from the shelf, "there's a fascinating concept called 'impostor syndrome.' It refers to the unqualified feeling that you are inadequate despite all evidence pointing to the contrary. Youarevery skilled and wise, and statistically speaking have a far better chance of making a difference than most other inhabitants here."
I opened the board on the table and set it up, giving him a quick run-over of the rules.
Olórin looked at me quizzically, but chose the red counters for himself.
"Do you think you can win this game in one move?" I asked him.
He glanced at the board and then back up at me, and shook his head, moving one of his pieces.
"Do you think you have a reasonable chance of beating me in due course?" I enquired after we had both had a few moves each.
Olórin jumped one of my pieces and nodded at me slowly. I nodded back.
"I think you need to be a little more gentle with yourself," I said to him mildly. You've only been here for a few months. How are you supposed to know an entire continent and its peoples like the back of your hand in that timeframe, hm? It's just not possible. Give yourself time to get to know the place. It's really beautiful, and there's an awful lot to learn. Meet the people, get to know them, be a friend. You'll make your mark, and people will remember you. Bit by bit, you know?"
Olórin forced himself to look up at me, and I saw a hint of relief in his eyes. I thought it was almost cruel of the Valar to not properly prepare their Maia for such a huge task as this, knowing that he was inclined to be nervous.
"I think you're going to do an amazing job," I said to him. "And you know, you can come and find me at any time and we can talk more, for as long as you need. I'm here for you, all right?"
Finally, I saw a small, sweet smile turn up the corners of Olórin's mouth. He nodded, but this time it wasn't just a nod of understanding, but also one of the beginnings of acceptance.
He glanced back down at the board and jumped my last checker.
"I don't believe this."
Olórin didn't stay much longer in Imladris after that. That didn't come as much of a surprise to Glorfindel, or to me, after having seen how happy he was being on the move when we had travelled back from the Grey Havens. And really, it must have been very restricting having to keep up a plausible schedule for an old man in a place like this. There was no way he needed to shuffle around the way he did, like his slippers had been stuck to the floor with chewing gum, but he had certainly done what he needed to so that he looked the part.
"I hope you'll come back and visit from time to time," I said to Olórin over breakfast the day he was due to depart. "I know you're a very important international jetsetter, but we'll miss having you around here."
This was met with nods from Glorfindel, Elrond, and Celebrían.
Olórin gave a small but genuine smile as he said, "Oh, I shall be here again before long. I intend to make for the east, but stop at Lothlórien, so I will turn back and pass through Imladris again in time for your wedding." His eyes twinkled under his expansive, untamed eyebrows.
Glorfindel cooed in excitement. By this point, our wedding was scheduled to occur in just under a year, and I knew he had been hoping (as we all had) that Olórin would attend.
Half an hour later, Olórin was standing with us at the entrance to Elrond's courtyard.
"Keep an eye out while you're out there," I whispered to him in Valarin as I hugged him goodbye. It was the closest I could get to a warning about Saruman, and I hoped he'd at least keep it in the back of his head as he went along.
Olórin smiled, nodded once, and with a wave to all of us he was off, humming cheerfully to himself.
