I can't believe they did it.
All wisdom said that I had sent Frodo to his certain death, and Samwise with him. All the evidence before anyone's eyes would have indicated that two small hobbits wouldn't be able to even make it to Mordor alone, let alone get through that evil land, bearing the one object that Sauron most desired, destroy it, and get out again safely. I was almost certain they had died on the way.
Well, that just proves that even I don't know everything. They came through it whole (if you don't count a finger) and sane - which, especially for poor Frodo, was a lot. It had occurred to me that the Ring could get its talons deep enough into him that its destruction would wreak irreparable harm on his mind; it didn't. Everything and everyone succeeded admirably - the suicidal attack on the Black Gates, Frodo and Sam's perilous mission, everything.
And yet, success is not free. All around us are reminders of the epic struggle that took place in order to end Sauron's life. Osgiliath is a near ruin, and Minas Tirith will forever bear the scars of battle that took place outside and inside it. Rohan has borne the depredations of Saruman, and its people will remember, even though the more transient structures of wood will not bear the physical marks as long as the stone of Gondor. The memories of the people run long.
I am grateful that the darkness did not come as far as the Shire. I have always borne in my heart a special affection for the Hobbitfolk, and even the slightest touch of darkness upon their happy existence would leave a long-lasting stain.
I know that I am not long to stay here; the power of Men is ascendant and the magics of old are fading, but Middle-Earth is a special place, and I am happy to see it preserved, not perhaps entirely intact, but in the core of its being whole and strong. Like a tree blasted by lightning, it has sustained injury, but its roots are strong and it will flourish again stronger than before. Aragorn is a wise man to lead the realm of Gondor; I cannot imagine a better king than one raised and educated by the Elves. It gives him a vision not easily granted to others. I can but hope his line will continue as strong; I will not be there to see it.
I regret my leaving already, although there is a little time yet before I must go. A few years, when I have walked this land for millennia? It seems a little while, and not enough to say all the goodbyes that must be said, see all done that must be cared for. I have great affection for this land, and for the people in it; they have been my friends, and even something like my children, for longer than any of them can remember. Who will care for them when I have gone with the Elves?
Aragorn will, as long and as much as he can. His heart is great; he will be not only a leader but a father to his people, for all that he is not old among them. He has learned to rule well, and will do so.
I will miss this land.
I have passed so many pleasant times among the people of Middle Earth, in all places from the grandeur of Minas Tirith to the simple pleasures of the Shire. My time here has been long, so long that these who are my friends cannot conceive of it, and maybe it's selfish to wish for yet more time, and yet I do. I long for the time to see Aragorn as King, to watch his reign and the reigns of his sons and grandsons, time to watch the hobbits enjoy their simple pleasures, to watch the herds of Rohan spread and grow. The journey has been long, but suddenly it seems too quick, as though the past three hundred lives of men had been but an instant. It has been so dear.
And yet, I still enjoy it. The faces of the hobbits, as all kneel to them, still fill me with delight; they are such simple creatures, at least in their motivations and pleasures. Kingship to them is something to be avoided, glory, a nuisance. Frodo has done everything he can, in these past few days since we carried him from Mount Doom, to avoid those who would see him. He has only been willing to speak with those who were of the Fellowship; the few times he has come in contact with the people of Gondor, Rohan, or the Elvish lands, he has been embarrassed and done his best to shrink down to nothing. Even the long contact with the Ring did not succeed in truly poisoning him, despite the pain he will carry all his life. Like these lands, Frodo has been injured but will continue to grow strong. And I believe Samwise will aid in ensuring that Frodo continues to take pleasure in life - I have not missed the glances between those two, although they think they are being very subtle and discreet. Well, all to the better. Frodo could not have done all he did without the stalwart aid of his companion; that much is obvious. Now, he will need to heal, and a soothing presence will aid him greatly in that. Meriadoc and Peregrin have been their usual selves - I think sometimes that nothing will ever alter those two. Even staring eye-to-Eye with Sauron, through the medium of the Palantir, and striking at the King of the Nazgul will not dampen the mischief and merriment of those two - nor will it cure Peregrin's foolishness! For all I have called him a fool a hundred times over on this journey - for such is he! - I will miss him, too. It is part of a hobbit's charm that he never truly grows up.
Legolas and Gimli have joined their respective peoples, Elves and Dwarves standing far apart on this citytop plaza, and yet... do I imagine, or are they not quite so far apart as before? Legolas and Gimli stand the nearer of their two delgations, occasionally glance at each other, smiling. I am glad - it only took the near destruction of all we hold dear to make an Elf and a Dwarf become friends! Their journey has been no less remarkable than that of the hobbits, and again I am cheered. Perhaps this will pave the way toward greater amity in the future - the future which I will not witness. It is almost like pondering death, I suddenly realize. Loss of the familiar, and travel to somewhere new that will be devoid of all I once knew. I want to remember and be remembered, but I would be happiest if I never had to leave! I have watched and guided the peoples of Middle-Earth for so long, it will be strange to let them go off alone. Old meddlesome Gandalf will become naught but a legend and a name, not a peregrine presence that comes and goes as he will.
Would that some things would never change. No matter how dark times seem, there will always be spots of joy in the world. They must be cherished and treasured, for without the mischief of a hobbit, or the banter between an Elf and Dwarf paving the way to friendship, Middle-Earth would be a very dull place indeed.
All wisdom said that I had sent Frodo to his certain death, and Samwise with him. All the evidence before anyone's eyes would have indicated that two small hobbits wouldn't be able to even make it to Mordor alone, let alone get through that evil land, bearing the one object that Sauron most desired, destroy it, and get out again safely. I was almost certain they had died on the way.
Well, that just proves that even I don't know everything. They came through it whole (if you don't count a finger) and sane - which, especially for poor Frodo, was a lot. It had occurred to me that the Ring could get its talons deep enough into him that its destruction would wreak irreparable harm on his mind; it didn't. Everything and everyone succeeded admirably - the suicidal attack on the Black Gates, Frodo and Sam's perilous mission, everything.
And yet, success is not free. All around us are reminders of the epic struggle that took place in order to end Sauron's life. Osgiliath is a near ruin, and Minas Tirith will forever bear the scars of battle that took place outside and inside it. Rohan has borne the depredations of Saruman, and its people will remember, even though the more transient structures of wood will not bear the physical marks as long as the stone of Gondor. The memories of the people run long.
I am grateful that the darkness did not come as far as the Shire. I have always borne in my heart a special affection for the Hobbitfolk, and even the slightest touch of darkness upon their happy existence would leave a long-lasting stain.
I know that I am not long to stay here; the power of Men is ascendant and the magics of old are fading, but Middle-Earth is a special place, and I am happy to see it preserved, not perhaps entirely intact, but in the core of its being whole and strong. Like a tree blasted by lightning, it has sustained injury, but its roots are strong and it will flourish again stronger than before. Aragorn is a wise man to lead the realm of Gondor; I cannot imagine a better king than one raised and educated by the Elves. It gives him a vision not easily granted to others. I can but hope his line will continue as strong; I will not be there to see it.
I regret my leaving already, although there is a little time yet before I must go. A few years, when I have walked this land for millennia? It seems a little while, and not enough to say all the goodbyes that must be said, see all done that must be cared for. I have great affection for this land, and for the people in it; they have been my friends, and even something like my children, for longer than any of them can remember. Who will care for them when I have gone with the Elves?
Aragorn will, as long and as much as he can. His heart is great; he will be not only a leader but a father to his people, for all that he is not old among them. He has learned to rule well, and will do so.
I will miss this land.
I have passed so many pleasant times among the people of Middle Earth, in all places from the grandeur of Minas Tirith to the simple pleasures of the Shire. My time here has been long, so long that these who are my friends cannot conceive of it, and maybe it's selfish to wish for yet more time, and yet I do. I long for the time to see Aragorn as King, to watch his reign and the reigns of his sons and grandsons, time to watch the hobbits enjoy their simple pleasures, to watch the herds of Rohan spread and grow. The journey has been long, but suddenly it seems too quick, as though the past three hundred lives of men had been but an instant. It has been so dear.
And yet, I still enjoy it. The faces of the hobbits, as all kneel to them, still fill me with delight; they are such simple creatures, at least in their motivations and pleasures. Kingship to them is something to be avoided, glory, a nuisance. Frodo has done everything he can, in these past few days since we carried him from Mount Doom, to avoid those who would see him. He has only been willing to speak with those who were of the Fellowship; the few times he has come in contact with the people of Gondor, Rohan, or the Elvish lands, he has been embarrassed and done his best to shrink down to nothing. Even the long contact with the Ring did not succeed in truly poisoning him, despite the pain he will carry all his life. Like these lands, Frodo has been injured but will continue to grow strong. And I believe Samwise will aid in ensuring that Frodo continues to take pleasure in life - I have not missed the glances between those two, although they think they are being very subtle and discreet. Well, all to the better. Frodo could not have done all he did without the stalwart aid of his companion; that much is obvious. Now, he will need to heal, and a soothing presence will aid him greatly in that. Meriadoc and Peregrin have been their usual selves - I think sometimes that nothing will ever alter those two. Even staring eye-to-Eye with Sauron, through the medium of the Palantir, and striking at the King of the Nazgul will not dampen the mischief and merriment of those two - nor will it cure Peregrin's foolishness! For all I have called him a fool a hundred times over on this journey - for such is he! - I will miss him, too. It is part of a hobbit's charm that he never truly grows up.
Legolas and Gimli have joined their respective peoples, Elves and Dwarves standing far apart on this citytop plaza, and yet... do I imagine, or are they not quite so far apart as before? Legolas and Gimli stand the nearer of their two delgations, occasionally glance at each other, smiling. I am glad - it only took the near destruction of all we hold dear to make an Elf and a Dwarf become friends! Their journey has been no less remarkable than that of the hobbits, and again I am cheered. Perhaps this will pave the way toward greater amity in the future - the future which I will not witness. It is almost like pondering death, I suddenly realize. Loss of the familiar, and travel to somewhere new that will be devoid of all I once knew. I want to remember and be remembered, but I would be happiest if I never had to leave! I have watched and guided the peoples of Middle-Earth for so long, it will be strange to let them go off alone. Old meddlesome Gandalf will become naught but a legend and a name, not a peregrine presence that comes and goes as he will.
Would that some things would never change. No matter how dark times seem, there will always be spots of joy in the world. They must be cherished and treasured, for without the mischief of a hobbit, or the banter between an Elf and Dwarf paving the way to friendship, Middle-Earth would be a very dull place indeed.