Dragon Witch
By Nezumi
Chapter Four: Flight of Gandalf
If one takes over another's mind. It shouldn't be easy to tell the real from the illusory any longer, in fact, it would be impossible. The person may see every last bit of memory, would he not and would be able to act exactly as he did before the mind was taken over by such a foreign body. Only a wizard would see, with the insight they have, that someone has taken over one, and that the taken over, is dead. For dead is without mind or soul…
Gandalf stood on the road to Mirkwood, a perilous a road it was at this time. He wished deep with every bit of his heart that the lady had traveled with him, or Frodo, or even the senile Bilbo Baggins. True, he was a wizard yet this evil was not to be treaded as lightly on. "athair… iníon…" then all of a sudden he became rigid in stance. "Tréde ara carthar escara: máin, cruth, innraccus." True, it was! Wealth, Beauty, and Worth you did so love your enemies for! So to soothe his senses Gandalf began murmuring the words of Triad in his mind. "…Trí adcoillet gáis: anfis, doas, díchuimne…" Three things that ruin wisdom: ignorance, inaccurate knowledge, and forgetfulness.
The presence suddenly changed and when he looked next, an entire army descended over the hill behind him. "Is fear rith maith ná drochsheasamh," he murmured to no one in particular. Still he doubt himself, many people only turned around to face the fate of danger. The herd of orcs stopped short, in a complete halt, and then fell to their knees murmuring in the foreign language. Though extremely daunted by such an action, Gandalf just ran his horse off the road. Old Forest Road was not known by many, and certainly not Gandalf. He preferred the Western side of the mountains and the land of Gondor with his former fellowship than the land that lay east of it.
With good reason, he'd avoided the east for years. An evil lingered here, and he was linked directly to that evil. He himself was the cause it existed upon the realm. He shouldered the responsibility silently, if asked he would produce such information, but not readily admit to it. Never should Gandalf the Grey turn into Saruman. Ever. Both of the 'S's had caused the Fellowship great torture of the physical and psychological nature—and those two, those two had been but pawns in the Black Queen's game. And the ring, oh, the ring had been but the pawn's sword. Now he feared she played no material death games, well, not anymore; she played only mental ones. A dangerous enemy that made her, and it appeared she enjoyed the torture of Legolas, son to be King of Mirkwood.
Run Gandalf the Grey of Gutless. Run! Because you are a coward. A spineless coward. I should like to hex you but this Legolas of yours, Greenleaf. He's taking too much of my time, and I don't like it.
Gandalf only continued running his steed, without any reply only thinking of his destination. Forcing himself to only think of his destination, less it gave away a certain plan he had been sorting out.
Like any good plan, it required revisions in time. But he must consult Legolas on the particular issues, though he knew not how he would avoid certain questions the elf would have. Gandalf, as wise as he was, and still quite as noble, would never admit such a thing to Middle Earth. Only if Lady Galadriel, former Lady of Lórien would say such for him. Weep not for the memories, Gandalf, weep not, a voice much more pleasant, though still some what the same told him in his mind. I am with you.
Oh sure you are, a sarcastic one ricocheted through the wizard's mind and Gandalf was beginning to be irritated. Women. Elven-women. Always intruding upon a man's thoughts when he needed them for his own time. And Gandalf, the elf has fallen into my trap. So you want to be left alone to your own thoughts? Very well. I suggest we leave him alone Galadriel, no lady are you to me.
And so Gandalf tapped into the elven-woman's thoughts. LITTLE INGRATE!!! Do you show no respect?
To the likes such as you. No. You were supposed to die under my pawn's hand. The other voice, though angelic, seemed to be empty. I suppose I shall have to send a bishop after you Galadriel… a bishop…
Gandalf pulled away from such conversation, though he knew that she was gone. A Black Queen in the game of chess, it seemed she was regarding the situation as. However, he felt she was lying about the pawns. Sauron had been more than her pawn. He had been her other bishop or knight, maybe even a rook. Saruman had been a knight, because it was her favorite piece, he knew for certain, and Saruman's goal had simply been to destroy Gandalf. There were 4 things this Black Queen despised: Elves, in particular Galadriel of Lórien; peace; love; and above all others, even above love and Galadriel, Gandalf the Grey. When she had ran so many centuries ago, he recalled her vow of vengeance and her hate filled eyes that had made him turn away to cry. This being, not even a soul, it was of hate. Pure hate.
How could he tell his comrades this was all his fault? This would never have happened if Gandalf the Grey hadn't been a foolish young wizard.
.-*-.
Translations What I will tell you… the others are secret… Is fear rith maith ná drochsheasamh—A good run is better than a bad stand. Irish Gaelic. Therfore… Irish proverb… Don't ask how to pronounce, I dunno myself.
A.N. Short chapter. Ja? Whaddya think of it? I think I finally know where this is going but then I looked at the philosophy on Ch. 3 and though *CRAP!!!! STUPID ME!!!!* You can see why? Good and evil. Damn. As you can see, I raised the rating to PG-13. Me thinks it best. Just 'cuz I don't want any flames from parents or something, because I corrupted their child. *shrugs* Its happened before. Not a pleasant memory. Well anyways, please review! (We've been over this before) And I be happy. Merry Writings! *in the third chapter I made a couple typos: Grain = Grian.*
Disclaimers Ya saw Chapters 2 and 3. Whaddya readin' this for?
E-Mail messy@usa.com
P.S. Sayings in different language? Ja? Gut! I mean… good. Please send me 'em. *begs on knees*
By Nezumi
Chapter Four: Flight of Gandalf
If one takes over another's mind. It shouldn't be easy to tell the real from the illusory any longer, in fact, it would be impossible. The person may see every last bit of memory, would he not and would be able to act exactly as he did before the mind was taken over by such a foreign body. Only a wizard would see, with the insight they have, that someone has taken over one, and that the taken over, is dead. For dead is without mind or soul…
Gandalf stood on the road to Mirkwood, a perilous a road it was at this time. He wished deep with every bit of his heart that the lady had traveled with him, or Frodo, or even the senile Bilbo Baggins. True, he was a wizard yet this evil was not to be treaded as lightly on. "athair… iníon…" then all of a sudden he became rigid in stance. "Tréde ara carthar escara: máin, cruth, innraccus." True, it was! Wealth, Beauty, and Worth you did so love your enemies for! So to soothe his senses Gandalf began murmuring the words of Triad in his mind. "…Trí adcoillet gáis: anfis, doas, díchuimne…" Three things that ruin wisdom: ignorance, inaccurate knowledge, and forgetfulness.
The presence suddenly changed and when he looked next, an entire army descended over the hill behind him. "Is fear rith maith ná drochsheasamh," he murmured to no one in particular. Still he doubt himself, many people only turned around to face the fate of danger. The herd of orcs stopped short, in a complete halt, and then fell to their knees murmuring in the foreign language. Though extremely daunted by such an action, Gandalf just ran his horse off the road. Old Forest Road was not known by many, and certainly not Gandalf. He preferred the Western side of the mountains and the land of Gondor with his former fellowship than the land that lay east of it.
With good reason, he'd avoided the east for years. An evil lingered here, and he was linked directly to that evil. He himself was the cause it existed upon the realm. He shouldered the responsibility silently, if asked he would produce such information, but not readily admit to it. Never should Gandalf the Grey turn into Saruman. Ever. Both of the 'S's had caused the Fellowship great torture of the physical and psychological nature—and those two, those two had been but pawns in the Black Queen's game. And the ring, oh, the ring had been but the pawn's sword. Now he feared she played no material death games, well, not anymore; she played only mental ones. A dangerous enemy that made her, and it appeared she enjoyed the torture of Legolas, son to be King of Mirkwood.
Run Gandalf the Grey of Gutless. Run! Because you are a coward. A spineless coward. I should like to hex you but this Legolas of yours, Greenleaf. He's taking too much of my time, and I don't like it.
Gandalf only continued running his steed, without any reply only thinking of his destination. Forcing himself to only think of his destination, less it gave away a certain plan he had been sorting out.
Like any good plan, it required revisions in time. But he must consult Legolas on the particular issues, though he knew not how he would avoid certain questions the elf would have. Gandalf, as wise as he was, and still quite as noble, would never admit such a thing to Middle Earth. Only if Lady Galadriel, former Lady of Lórien would say such for him. Weep not for the memories, Gandalf, weep not, a voice much more pleasant, though still some what the same told him in his mind. I am with you.
Oh sure you are, a sarcastic one ricocheted through the wizard's mind and Gandalf was beginning to be irritated. Women. Elven-women. Always intruding upon a man's thoughts when he needed them for his own time. And Gandalf, the elf has fallen into my trap. So you want to be left alone to your own thoughts? Very well. I suggest we leave him alone Galadriel, no lady are you to me.
And so Gandalf tapped into the elven-woman's thoughts. LITTLE INGRATE!!! Do you show no respect?
To the likes such as you. No. You were supposed to die under my pawn's hand. The other voice, though angelic, seemed to be empty. I suppose I shall have to send a bishop after you Galadriel… a bishop…
Gandalf pulled away from such conversation, though he knew that she was gone. A Black Queen in the game of chess, it seemed she was regarding the situation as. However, he felt she was lying about the pawns. Sauron had been more than her pawn. He had been her other bishop or knight, maybe even a rook. Saruman had been a knight, because it was her favorite piece, he knew for certain, and Saruman's goal had simply been to destroy Gandalf. There were 4 things this Black Queen despised: Elves, in particular Galadriel of Lórien; peace; love; and above all others, even above love and Galadriel, Gandalf the Grey. When she had ran so many centuries ago, he recalled her vow of vengeance and her hate filled eyes that had made him turn away to cry. This being, not even a soul, it was of hate. Pure hate.
How could he tell his comrades this was all his fault? This would never have happened if Gandalf the Grey hadn't been a foolish young wizard.
.-*-.
Translations What I will tell you… the others are secret… Is fear rith maith ná drochsheasamh—A good run is better than a bad stand. Irish Gaelic. Therfore… Irish proverb… Don't ask how to pronounce, I dunno myself.
A.N. Short chapter. Ja? Whaddya think of it? I think I finally know where this is going but then I looked at the philosophy on Ch. 3 and though *CRAP!!!! STUPID ME!!!!* You can see why? Good and evil. Damn. As you can see, I raised the rating to PG-13. Me thinks it best. Just 'cuz I don't want any flames from parents or something, because I corrupted their child. *shrugs* Its happened before. Not a pleasant memory. Well anyways, please review! (We've been over this before) And I be happy. Merry Writings! *in the third chapter I made a couple typos: Grain = Grian.*
Disclaimers Ya saw Chapters 2 and 3. Whaddya readin' this for?
E-Mail messy@usa.com
P.S. Sayings in different language? Ja? Gut! I mean… good. Please send me 'em. *begs on knees*