Okay, now where was I? Oh, right, Bonnie was in the process of trying to barf up a kidney and fjdsapioew;'j;' Ack! Folks, that was my sister's kitty, Pooh-Cat. It seems that Mr. Pooh would like to cuddle. Right now. On the keyboard. Wait a second while I try and appease His Majesty. Oh, da ba-aby, da sweet baby kit-ty. Mau-uu... I love you, Pooh! Dis sweet snoogy Mau-face googy wuvvy-snuz! Much squealing Da squishy Mau-face wuvvy. Baby kit-teaeaeaeaee!...More squealing, much kitty fluff flying in the air
Whew. Okay, I did NOT just lose it, my sister has rules about how to snuggle her kitty...fortunately, he likes being fussed over. However, I think I'll start the story now, because judging from that bug-eyed look on your faces, if I don't soon do something that resembles sanity, you will run away and never come back. And I really want reviewers! One last thing: ldssunshinegrl, they say great minds think alike. It must be true, because the next words out of Bonnie's mouth will be:...
She was burning. The wizard frowned. You are becoming feverish. The rain, it seems, chilled you more than you knew.
Bonnie coughed and spat repeatedly, trying to rid her mouth of the bitterness. If Saruman's down there, I hope I hit him, she muttered. She offered Gandalf a half-smile and crawled away from the edge to lay curled on her side, letting the cold, stone floor cool her heated forehead. She sat up suddenly. Well, never-mind that. Too cold. She coughed again.
Gandalf watched her with uneasiness. He knew that once his strength returned he could heal the girl easily enough, alas, as yet, fatigue was upon him still. Anger and grief burned in him. When did Saruman the Wise abandon reason for madness? The news of his treachery was indeed more than enough to trouble Gandalf's heart, but this young one next to him... Saruman had left her neither cloak nor food. How long did he intend to hold her prisoner? How long, in such cold, could she possibly last?
Bonnie sat rocking forward and back slightly, something she did oft in times of distress. She looked curiously at...what did he call himself?... Gandalf the Grey... who appeared deep in thought. No sound save the wind could she hear, and the silence seemed to press in round her.
So. Are the two of you...brothers or something? she asked, stirring the wizard out of reverie. Gandalf looked at her. You look it, anyway, though he doesn't exactly display "brotherly love"...
In a manner of speaking, I suppose you may say we are brothers. She looked at him expressionlessly. He tried again. He and I are of the same Order.
Bonnie looked perplexed. That didn't help at all, really, she said honestly. She remembered her other question and decided to drop this one for now. A.N.: She's not a ditz, she's just tired, sick, and under the influence of someone writing a sloppy chapter.
You never did answer me...sir, she said. He looked at her in question. You said you were CALLED Gandalf the Grey. Isn't it your name?
Gandalf knew the girl's true implication: she was afraid, in need of diversion, and he took pity on her. Many are my names in many countries. Mithrandir among the Elves, Tharkun to the Dwarves; Olorin I was in my youth in the West that is forgotten, in the South Incanus, in the North Gandalf; to the east I go not.
Had Bonnie not seen outlandish fiends in burned skins, were she not before now subjected to the voice of Saruman, she would have thought him senile or a liar, naming such creatures as Elves and Dwarves. But she had seen things; things she knew could not be reasoned away. They actually exist? The...the Elves and Dwarves? What were those other things, the monsters or Goblins or whatever they were?
Goblins, yes. They are called Orcs, he replied. Most are not that big, or black-skinned. These are Uruk-Hai. Saruman is breeding an army, one that can move in sunlight, and cover great distance and speed.
Bonnie shuddered. An army? Why?
The wizard hesitated. He had already told her more than he intended to, and why he was not certain.
Bonnie noted his hesitation and decided on a change of subject. You must travel a lot, then. Gandalf smiled. This was something of an understatement. She continued, I've always wanted to travel. I've never been more than a hundred miles from home, but...I want so badly to. There's so much I've never seen, so much I want to know.
Gandalf noted the longing in her eyes with fondness. She was likeable, humble, with an eagerness he found endearing, like a new fawn learning to stand. She looked at him, and then smiled wanly.
No one has that many names where I come from. Do they all mean the same thing?
They all mean me, he said somewhat vaguely.
Gandalf the Grey, Olorin, In-Incanus...what was the other one?
Mithrandir and Tharkun, he reminded.
She shook head in amazement. Name and word meanings have always fascinated me, she explained, coughing once again. Most people where I'm from have only three: first, middle, and last, but their not called names based on different directions on a map--it's just whatever their parents named them. Well, the first two anyway--the last one's the family name.
And you, lady, what are your two other names?
She told him. Bonnie means "goodness" and "beautiful", and Brae, of course, is a hillside or a meadow. My family name means "hero with the strength of the bear". Quite a mouthful, really, but I kind of like it... Please stop calling me a lady. It's kind of unnerving.
Is it? And why is that, La—Bonnie, I mean? he asked.
Bonnie shrugged her shoulders. It just is. It sounds too stuffy, I guess, she said. She chuckled a little. Call me Bonnie, unless I should have another name for wherever I am now.
Gandalf looked at her thoughtfully. Marevanye, he said.
She cocked her head to the side. What?
Mah-ray-vahn-yah, the wizard repeated, sounding it out for her. High Elvish for 'Good Beauty'. It is your first name in Elvish.
Bonnie grinned. I really like that. It has a nice rolling sound: Marevanye. Call me that, if you want to.
Gandalf smiled at the girl fondly. Marevanye it is.
Suddenly her face faulted slightly. Speaking like this, it's hard, she explained. It makes my head hurt after a while. She curled up tighter.
Time for a Song Break:
...Isn't anyone tryin to find me?
Won't someone please take me home
It's a damp cold night
Trying to figure out this life
Wont you take me by the hand
take me somewhere new
I don't know who you are
but I'm, I'm with you
I'm looking for a place
searching for a face
is there anybody here I know
cause nothings going right
and everything's a mess
and no one likes to be alone
Isn't anyone tryin to find me?
Won't someone please take me home
It's a damp cold night
Trying to figure out this life
Wont you take me by the hand
take me somewhere new
I don't know who you are
but I'm, I'm with you
Oh why is everything so confusing
maybe I'm just out of my mind
yea yea yea
It's a damp cold night
Trying to figure out this life
Wont you take me by the hand
take me somewhere new
I don't know who you are
but I'm, I'm with you
The song "I'm With You" performed by Avril Lavigne is the theme for this chapter. But I couldn't find where I wanted it, so I just insert the thing here. I changed one of there words, some of you may notice, because I just don't want any curse words in my story, so that word was replaced with the word "damp."
"Gwaihir, go," Gandalf whispered to the fuzzy little moth cradled in his hand. "Gwaihir, go..." The small creature took off fluttering its pale, moonlit wings as fast as it could.
The wizard eyed the girl as she shivered, attempting to sleep, but clearly having a very bad time of it. She huddled next to him for body heat, wrapped tight in his outer cloak—underneath he had an equally dilapidated Elven robe—though neither offered much guard against the wind. Gandalf was deep in thought. It had not escaped his notice that there was a great deal more to this girl than what met the eye. Marevanye had been taken from some other world to this one, an extraordinarily uncommon happening. She had recognized the danger in Saruman's voice and had resisted him, she spoke mind to mind, she even illustrated for him how she'd come to be in the Pinnacle of Orthanc, as though Gandalf had been right beside her at that moment. That took a rare strength indeed. It did not fail to occur to him that her arrival coincided with the time of his appeal of help to Illuvatar.
She also asked intelligent questions—she stirred suddenly, interrupting his thoughts again. She turned to him, a feverish glint shown in her eyes. Her fever was not improving.
I—I don't feel good, she whimpered. I dreamt—it was real, it's still echoing in my head...
Show me, the wizard breathed.
Marevanye pulled Gandalf into her fevered dream. The girl stood in a Golden Wood which was turned silvery on a moonlit night, eyeing a liquid mirror. She trembled with a sense of uncertainty and trepidation as a voice emanated from the mirror, rich and soft as velvet, beautiful and perceiving. The words were foreign and unintelligible, and whispered almost inaudibly.
Then feathers fell around her like snow. A deeper, masculine voice, patient as time, drowned out the first voice. This one called from behind, "Eagle of Manwe..." Marevanye turned to the voice, but saw not the speaker, but an Eagle enormous in size. It resembled a golden eagle, but only slightly. The creature one could never merely call a "bird" was an emblem of virtue and nobility with great, golden eyes full of wisdom and age, deeper than the seas. Integrity shone in his countenance, and Marevanye's eyes stung at the beauty and purity of him.
"Thorondor, Eagle of Manwe," the voice repeated, "For the loyalty and devotion..."
The original voice, the velvety, perceiving voice, intercepted the conversation, profuse with conviction and accosting the girl in mid-dream: Dorthach vi mar han? Dagrathach go hain? Marevanye turned again to the mirror, at first seeing only her own reflection wavering as the words vibrated again.
Dorthach vi mar han? Dagrathach go hain?
Her heart felt pierced by an arrow. The image before her changed. She saw the blade of a sword with white-hot crack lines, as if it had been broken and was being made whole. It shined so that it hurt her eyes to look. The image changed to one of a child among adults, looking vulnerable and frightened, yet noble and determined. Marevanye felt moved with compassion for him, heart breaking at the look in his eyes. Again the image shifted, and there were people crying, and then another fast shifting. Wings outlined with a blinding light.
Dorthach vi mar han? Dagrathach go hain?
And then Gandalf was back on the Pinnacle of Orthanc with the shivering human girl. She was whispering the last words of her dream again and again, not knowing their meaning.
She looked at Gandalf with feverish, tired eyes. Marevanye knows not those words or their language, she murmured, inadvertently mimicking Gandalf's speaking . Does her friend The Grey know them? Before he could answer, she slumped against his shoulder, utterly exhausted. Yes, he sighed to himself, he did know them. He knew their meaning all too well. What The Grey did not know was why this human child was given a question such as that.
Staring up at the moon, he drowned out the din of destruction taking place so far below.
"Almighty Illuvatar, Father of All, I thank You for hearing the cries of Your servants. I thank You that even now You are working to bring things around to the greatest possible Good—but I confess, my Lord, that I understand not the ways in which You work. This innocent who lies here beside me is here by Your leave alone, else she would not be here at all. I cannot see neither how, nor why, she has appeared in these fateful hours, but neither must I know yet.
"You, O Lord, make all things clear in the fullness of Your time. I will wait upon You, the One who has never deserted me. Though you slay me, yet will I serve You. But, my Father, I cannot believe You would send Your daughter here to die on this Pinnacle, when she's only just arrived. I ask You to see her through to fulfill her purpose, and I ask the same for all of us who fight for the Good of this world and the others. And I ask for help to fly to our aid with all speed. "I thank You that You work in ways I cannot understand, for it demonstrates how truly wondrous are the works of Your hands, through those You have called to take part in Your plan.
When no other words would come, the Grey sat in stillness and awareness of the ever-presence of his King.
"So be it, in the name of Illuvatar."
And he waited patiently.
A.N.: Okay, brownie points to whoever can tell me where those Bible references came from in Gandalf's prayer, or what that bit of Elvish meant, which WILL be revealed in a later chapter.
I hope that prayer didn't sound too stuffy. I think that God doesn't care how formal we sound when we pray, because we shouldn't be praying to impress God with big vocabulary words, but that IS how Gandalf talks, at least as close as my imitations come, so he was speaking from the heart, and praying IN FAITH.
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