Manwë in thought
In the city of Valmar, under the shadows of the mighty peaks of the Pelori, Manwë the Lord of Aman sat pensive in his study. His cares were many, all of Arda lay within his stewardship. Across its globe, on land, in the sky, and under the sea, the myriads of creatures lived and died, flew, swam, ran or rooted, struggled, loved or hated according to their kind. From the tiniest lives of single cells, to the most complex beings composed of trillions of cells. The earth itself, in the fiery depths of its heart, the solid lands on its surface floating over the molten inner rock, the endlessly flowing waters. All movement, growth, change, decay, expressed the creative will of Eru Ilúvatar. The duty of Manwë, his burden, was to ensure the coherent working out of that will. Neither good nor evil, nor kind nor cruel as might be perceived by the creatures of Arda, Manwë was pure intelligence.
And yet he was constrained in the use of his powers. The will of Eru was often inscrutable, but in this case the explanation was straightforward. Billions of years had passed since the forming of Arda, and the matter of which the world and all the beings therein were formed, became increasingly itself, and more distant from the pure spirits of its creation. In this becoming, the sensitivity of matter to the actions of those very spirits had grown. Should the Valar exert themselves, act directly as the Ainur they had once been, Arda might be unmade. The great battle with Melkor at the end of the First Age had nearly caused such total destruction, only with great effort had the Valar held the form of earth intact. Another battle such as that, or such as those even worse, fought in ancient times before the First Age, before the awakening of the Children of Ilúvatar, would certainly disperse the world to dust floating around the Sun as it once had until shaped by the Valar themselves.
In Middle Earth, a thousand years had passed since the Downfall of Númenor, which had heralded the end of the Second Age. The Third Age had begun in sorrow, for the loss of so many in the final war between the Last Alliance of Elves and Men and Sauron Gorthaur, but also in hope. The passing of Sauron, as it seemed, led to a new flowering with the renewal of the kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor. Though the Eldar retreated to their hidden realms, and played little obvious role in the histories of the age, yet their power remained strong. The strongholds of the Three Rings, Lothlorien, Imladris, and Mithlond on the shores of the Sundering Sea, were as beacons whose light, unperceived by most, shone courage, compassion and reason across the western regions of the land. The ravages of war receded, and the order of the kingdoms permitted a time of peace and plenty, for the folk of those kingdoms but also for all others in neighboring lands, who wished only for calm and space to build and nurture their own. Violence there was still, led by men of ill will or who believed in the right of arms to take whatever they wished. Orcs hid within their subterranean realms and ventured forth rarely, but raided from time to time for such items as they could not fashion themselves, or when their hatred of themselves became unbearable, and they burst forth in blood lust, hoping without knowing it that they would be killed by those they attacked. And in lands far away to the east and south, where the deeds of the Edain and Eldar were but rumors, were kingdoms of peace and kingdoms of war. The arts and culture of the Eldar and the Edain were little known in those lands, although there were many of the Avari, distant Quendi cousins of the Eldar who had long ago rejected the beckoning of the Valar to voyage west to Aman, who yet lived beside and sometimes among men.
Unknown to the folk in the west of Middle Earth, Sauron Gorthaur, once named Mairon the Maia, had not perished utterly at the hand of Isildur. With the One Ring cut from his body, Sauron's physical form did indeed dissolve, and his spirit fled in pain and fear. But that spirit remained bound to Arda, for Sauron had not the authority to release himself, either into the celestial universe beyond Arda, in which Arda floated, nor unto Aman, nor even back to the Void, whereto his old master Melkor had been relegated. Sauron's spirit, small and weak, cowered in dark places far from the realms of the descendants of Númenor, and of the mighty Eldar Ringbearers. It cowered, but in time it became again strong.
For the One Ring, into which Sauron had placed most of his power, remained. It had not been dissolved at the end of the Second Age, and thus Sauron's power also remained fundamentally intact and concentrated, not dispersed into the heart of Arda through the molten flowing rock beneath Orodruin, from whence it would have been carried to the center of the world, its evil redeemed through the fire. Instead, the Ring existed still on Middle Earth, though its fate was unknown and its resting place undiscovered. Sauron, while far away from the Ring and unable to access it directly, or even to find it, nonetheless was able to tap that power and regain some of his former might. Compared to his full strength before and during the First Age, his latter force was weak, but to those men, orcs and other beings who perceived him, he appeared majestic and terrible. He began slowly to build anew a realm of his own far to the east.
All this was known unto Manwë. Knowledge came to him, small and distant through the eyes and minds of all creatures, especially of the eagles his favorites. Betimes some of his fellow Valar voyaged themselves in Middle Earth, either as pure spirit or corporeally. And everywhere that waters flowed, the spirit of Ulmo passed, and observed much. Thus the Valar were aware of the renewal of the kingdoms of the Edain, of the hidden holds of the Eldar and their Three Rings, and also of the revival and growing strength of their old foe Gorthaur, second only to Melkor himself in terror and in despite of the will of Eru. The Valar were thus in doubt. They understood that direct confrontation with Gorthaur was no longer tenable, as it risked the dissolution of all Arda. But inaction was equally undesirable, as his goal was certainly the same as it had been before, the physical lordship of all Arda outside Aman. But such lordship seemed utterly contrary to the will of Eru, as Gorthaur valued only power, and lacked all warmth and compassion, delighting in dealing pain and destruction.
Manwë meditated and took thought within, opening himself to Eru's guidance. As described in the Red Book of Westmarch, the consequence was the decision to send challengers to Middle Earth, spirits of lesser rank, to oppose Sauron. Their selection was difficult; too strong and their resistance to Sauron risked devolving into open conflict with the Valar and the destruction of Arda, but too weak and they would fail or even be seduced and corrupted by him and become his servants. Only Maiar were suited for such a task, and even among them were few suitable. Ultimately five were chosen: Curumo, Olórin, Aiwendil, and the comrades Alatar and Pallando. But Manwë made the fateful decision not to reveal to them the existence of Gorthaur, lest they be overwhelmed before even taking up their tasks. To them he spoke only of growing darkness in the east, and that it must involve in some way the darker forces remaining after the fall of Gorthaur and the victory of the Last Alliance.
The Istari passed over the sea, how is not recorded, and first appeared at Mithlond, where their arrival was perceived with astonishment and joy by Cirdan. From there they dispersed, Alatar and Pallando to the far eastern lands beyond the kingdoms of the Edain, Aiwendil to the east but less far, to regions still mostly wild but bounded by Gondor, Curumo to the centers of power of the Edain. As for Olórin, he remained at first with Cirdan, then with Elrond in Imladris, then with Galadriel and Celeborn in Lothlorien. Olórin had sympathy and love for all living beings in Middle Earth, but he deemed that resistance to dark spirits would be strongest among the Eldar, and especially the bearers of the Three Rings. These he encouraged most, to look beyond their cloistered homes with appreciation for the efforts of men to improve themselves, and pity for their endless struggles. In the aftermath of the Last Alliance, the Eldar were increasingly disposed to ignore men, and even to leave Middle Earth for Aman. To them the past looked ever more attractive than the future, as the long years of their lives began to burden them. Cirdan, while the weakest of the three Ringbearers, and perhaps for that reason, was most in sympathy with Olórin's mind, to the extent that he ultimately gifted Olórin his own Ring, Narya the Ring of Fire (it is elsewhere stated that Cirdan offered Olórin his Ring upon Olórin's arrival). This act, while selfless and bold, led to confusion among the other Istari and Ringbearers. While helping Olórin in his dealings with the Children of Ilúvatar, his bearing a Ring was viewed with some suspicion by the Wise, who feared (needlessly as it transpired) that its power might corrupt him through pride. Thus the Three Rings were instruments both of good and ill, made as they were with knowledge gained partly from Sauron though his own hands never touched them.
In any case, the centuries passed in Middle Earth. Sauron's realms in the east became strong. He set in motion great migrations, driving tribes of warlike men to move west and assail the realms of the Edain and their distant cousins to the north. Sauron himself grew in power until he could act at further remove, causing plagues and famines in the kingdoms of the Edain. Against these, Aiwendil and Curumo labored mightily, greatly reducing their potency, which otherwise might have led to the total fall of the kingdoms without further need of direct war on Sauron's part. Lacking the One Ring on his hand, Sauron retained great fear of the Heirs of Isildur and their people in both Gondor and Arnor, and hesitated to risk himself in open battle as he had once done. But his servants of old, the Nazgúl, were sent forth especially in the North, where Arnor was riven by internal disputes among claimants for the crown, and was weaker in resistance thereby. The Istari became aware of the Nazgúl, but again failed to perceive their true natures, and thought them lesser spirits, further escapees from the defeat of Melkor. Likewise they did not (or at least those other than Curumo) did not appreciate that a single mind now directed the various assaults on the Edain and Eldar.
Olórin, having spent much time among the Eldar, and having seen their reluctance to be more directly concerned with the fate of Middle Earth, determined to explore the other peoples: the great Edain, other western men of lesser lineage and accomplishments, men of the far east and south, dwarves, even orcs when he could do so safely. He travelled widely, most often on foot, cloaked in grey with a tall grey hat. He acted rarely, though those with keen eyes perceived his great strength and firmness of purpose. The other Istari, especially Curumo their chief, while respecting him, thought him weak or walking in fear, unable or unwilling to fight. In time it became clear to the Istari that a true spirit of malignance dwelt in the east, though they were unable to perceive it directly or put a name to it. They knew however of the Valarauka hiding deep below the dwarvish mines of Moria, and of course of the great dragon Smaug, now crouched over dwarves' gold in the Lonely Mountain. They imagined that the darkness in the east was some other such lesser servant of Melkor who had survived or avoided the great wars of both the First and Second Ages. It did not occur to them that that spirit could be Sauron, assuming that such a foe would be so great they would not have been tasked by the Valar with this challenge.
It was during these long years of weary travel and observation, that Olórin found himself equally astonished, the day his path crossed that of a vibrant community of strange beings. Small of stature they were, but hardy. They were civilized, and had with them ponies and wagons, full with foodstuffs, iron implements, and cloths. They were simply but tastefully clad, but for their feet which were bare, tough-bottomed and covered on top with abundant hair. They came from further east, though this meeting occurred south and west of the Hithaeglir, the Misty Mountains. They were rustic folk, farmers by preference, with simple pleasures and kind hearts. They spoke of a sense of dread over the lands from whence they had come, and at the same time the expansion of men encroaching on their fields, and said they sought free and safe lands to the west, where they might re-establish themselves and prosper. They had had dealings with men, dwarves and rarely even elves, and told Olórin that these had called them Periannath, or Halflings. They called themselves hobbits. It was by pure chance that Olórin had not met them, in their previous dwelling places along the great river Andúin.
The Periannath were simple folk, but Olórin perceived their worth. They cared for each other, the strong aided the weak among them. None starved while others ate well. They had strong family ties, and gave themselves odd and incongruous names, mixing the simple and the exotic. With no explicit thought of these small folk aiding his fight against dark powers, Olórin was greatly moved to help them. He was aware that empty lands were indeed to be found north and west, in regions of Arnor that had been depopulated through war and pestilence. Therefore he accompanied the Periannath for a time, but also with the aid of Aiwendil, sent messages by bird to the King in Arnor. He urged the King to grant lands to these folk, where they might settle and be absorbed into the kingdom. And so it came to pass, so that in the following years, despite Olórin's departure, the Periannath were welcomed to Arnor, and accorded a large, fertile but empty region which they named the Shire. For hundreds of years thereafter, the Shire folk focused on their own world and participated little but as they could to the needs of the kingdom. As times grew darker and eventually Arnor was defeated and fallen into ruin, luckily the dark forces which overwhelmed it themselves overlooked the Shire. Eventually the Periannath, while acknowledging the outside world, paid less and less attention to it and came to believe (unfortunately and wrongly) that that world meant nothing to them.
All this Manwë perceived, and considered in his study in Valmar. He hesitated to act further, the agents of the Valar in Middle Earth were acting according to their natures, and he had received no further guidance from Eru. Until the day that Ulmo knocked upon his door.