Author's Notes: I own nothing and no one. Radagast was feeling unloved, so I attempted to assuage him. The name at the end, for folk unfamiliar with Sindarin, translates as Sea-son, unlike Garion, which translates as spear-son, and comes from an entirely different (and much better) storyline, The Belgariad. Yes, the Eddings bunnies are on the loose again, trying to get me to finally crack down and do a Silk story. Soon as I finish this one, I promise. Thanks to DreamingFifi-Olthadvaivai for the translation. Don't just sit there, go review before the plot-bunnies return. Maybe you can head them off.
Radagast had not kept his telescope trained upon the far off, now invisible shore, nor had he made very frequent checks of the palantir. Despite Palansül's assurances to the contrary, the Elwing would not run herself, and neither would Miriel, her councilor feared. The ship at least he could do something about, reorganizing the sailor's gear, patching holes in the sail, and whatnot, but all that the wizard could do for his ward was to insure that she ate, and then hang back, and watch Palansül work his own type of magic upon the lady.
Those two should get along wonderfully; it was not as if they had not been chosen for one another. Let Gandalf and Saruman roll their eyes at Radagast's clumsy matchmaking, they had their own silly hobbies to pass the time between great events, as sure as he. The white wizard was even beginning to get in the spirit of Ragastion's breeding programs, even if the brown Istar suspected that Curunir did so only to humor his subordinate. It was of no matter, though.
Radagast had been fascinated with all living things, ever since he was first sent to Middle Earth. He had made a plan to study a few hundred species each century, focusing on individuals in order to try to get a slice of the whole. For humans, these individuals included Miriel and Palansül, and Radagast was often surprised at how well and how strangely these two adapted, even when he had put a hand into their genetics, in Miriel's case, or upbringing, as in Palansül's.
Miriel's grandmother had been difficult to get in to the queenship, all her high lineage aside, as the royal line had become ever more suspicious of elves and their sympathizers over the past decades, but the resultant heir had been well worth the trouble. If only the second-born son had matched his brother in wisdom and kindness, and not outmatched him so in ambition and ruthlessness, or even if Gimilkhad's son had not matched his father in temperament, Radagast would not have had this problem. But he was always so focused on one thing at a time that he could not see the forest for its trees. Once again, the brown-robed Maiar felt, he had made a mess of things by not paying attention and following through. He could practically hear Saruman sneering at him all ready. The white wizard appeared to understand Radagast better than most of the others, but the head of the order could be such an arrogant prig. Nevertheless, Radagast the Brown would show them this time. He would not foul up his assigned task. Ragastion would bloody well keep the royal bloodline safe and loyal to the elves, if that were the will of the council. He might have to bend a few rules in order to do so, but he would manage it.
Luckily, the wizard had found the perfect ally in a young fisherman's son. Palansül had needed only a slight push in order to learn elvish and take his boat a wee bit further west every day in his fishing trips. For better or for worse, as Palansül was rather nearsighted for one of the Dunedain, he had also started tinkering about with glass lenses to keep the shoreline in sight. They were too imprecise now, but they had led to instruments not only good enough for improving the personal vision of an individual over normal distances, but also bringing objects normally too distant for even sharp-eyed men to see them into focus. These had been the start, and then the palantir had come along by some stroke of luck. Let Palansül believe what he willed, Radagast strongly suspected one of his fellows had given him that helpful nudge to get the wizard and explorer closer to their destination and allowed the Samaritan to check in on the brown wizard's progress at the same time. None would admit to it, but Pallandro's half-smile at their councils spoke wonders. It would figure if the blues had done that, as they were the only ones willing to accompany Radagast upon the occasional nature hike. The councilor figured he ought to remember to gift those two with some of the higher-grade telescopic lenses the next time they got together. He used them for bird watching, but the blue wizards would doubtless find them useful for their nightly stargazing fix. Thinking of his associates, Radagast had glanced up at the stars the other night. That bright one was Earendil, he was fairly certain, but the other constellations eluded him. It had been too long since he had been by the order. Next he would forget his own areas of expertise as he tried to keep up with mortal politics.
All matters of intra-order management aside, Radagast knew he had business to attend to here. There were elves that accepted him and Palansül, elves who were even friendly with them, but there were also those that disapproved of the maiar's arrival, much less the mortal sailor's. They would certainly not be pleased with Miriel.
Gaerion. He needed Gaerion. The elf was not perhaps their most influential supporter, but he could at least find a comfortable place for Miriel, where she would not be noticed, until Radagast was ready for it. Turning the telescope so that it faced west into deeper fog, Ragastion prayed that their first encounter would be with a friendly face.