"She must at least have the right to choose. My wife has passed away; she has gone to that place where the souls of Men go. I have accepted that. But should not my daughter be given the Choice [1]?"
"She was born of a mortal, Pallando [2]. As such, she cannot come to the shores of Aman."
Despair coursed through his heart, more despair than he had ever thought possible in Aman. Was this to be his fate: to be sundered from his beloved daughter until the End simply because she was part mortal? He knew that it was wrong to rebel against his Lord, but he had to try, at least, to fight for what he believed was right.
It was wrong of me to give up on her so easily, he thought sadly. What sort of father was he, abandoning his own flesh and blood to the harshness of Arda, when she could live with him in joy and bliss in Aman, until the End? He should have known that Aman would prove to be no escape from the emptiness he felt without his daughter, that the ties of blood he shared with her would call out to him even across the Sundering Seas.
And she was in danger, that much he knew: that much he had known while he was still in Arda. He had tried to teach her as best as he could during the last three years of his stay with his family, but it was not nearly enough.
He had left her his staff in the hopes that someday she would learn enough and be powerful enough to use it, but he doubted it. Without his guidance, she could not learn how to manipulate the power that was threaded through her blood. He had taught her enough in her childhood that she would be able to keep it under control, but to be able to use it to the fullest extent required a longer period of time – one that he was not able to have with her.
Yes, he feared for her, as a father fears for his child when he is certain that something great and terrible is about to befall her. His blood was both a gift to her, and a curse: while on one hand it made it possible for her to wield powers greater than those that other mortals had been allowed to use, it also threatened to rend her asunder, threatened to harm not just her, but all those around her.
But that was not the only danger. The waters of Arda had brought rumor of war flaring hot and fierce in the South, a war that was driven by a greed for power that should never be touched.
And he knew – he had always known, since her birth – that his daughter would be in the center of the storm.
He shook his head. No, he would not give up on her so easily.
"Yet my blood flows through her veins as well, does it not? My Lord, you know of the dangers of that: of a mortal girl having the blood of the Maiar in her veins. You know well what is going on in the South and in the East. There is war there, My Lord. The people are greedy for power. My daughter shall be caught in the midst of this war, and because of her gifts she may be used by those with evil intentions." He bowed his head. "I only wish to see her safe and sound. She is my daughter, My Lord, my own flesh and blood. Any father in the same position as I would do all he could to make sure his daughter was safe, especially if he knew of the dangers his child was in."
"She is still a mortal."
" She does not have to be mortal if she is allowed to make a choice. My Lord, please… I have asked of no favor from you until now. I beg of you, grant me this one boon."
"… Very well then. I shall give you my decision tomorrow, after I have spoken to Manwë."
He smiled, and sighed in relief as he bowed. So there was still hope after all! "Thank you, My Lord Ulmo."
Olórin [3] wandered the Gardens of Lórien, searching for his friend, Pallando. As he searched, he wondered why his old friend would seek him out for counsel. It had been long since they last spoke to one another. That had been fifteen years ago, when he and his friend Alatar [4] had returned to Aman on the last Elven-ship that would ever leave from the shores of Arda. Pallando was a vassal of Ulmo, while Alatar served Oromë. The Valar had sent the two of them as emissaries during the Third Age of Arda. The other three were Curumo [5], Aiwendil [6], and himself, Olórin. In Arda, they went under the guise of Wizards, aiding the people of Middle-Earth in their struggle against the evil of Gorthaur.
Of course, it had not gone has Olórin had hoped – not all of it, at least. First Aiwendil decided to cloister himself in the forests and held himself aloof from the very struggles they had come to solve, and then Curumo had tried to gain power for himself. But all was resolved in the end. Gorthaur was defeated, and cast into the Void with his master, Melkor.
As for Alatar and Pallando…well, that was an entirely different matter altogether. They had gone south and east beyond Mordor, and into the lands of the Haradrim and the kingdoms of Men in what was once called Hildorien. He had spoken much with Alatar of his comings and goings in that place, for Alatar had told tales of a kingdom there ruled by Men, which was prosperous in its own right, and as beautiful as Gondor, but with different beliefs and philosophies from those who lived in the White City.
But Pallando had not spoken of his time in the South. Not a single story passed his lips about what had happened there. His report to Lord Ulmo was done behind closed doors, and thus went unheard by Olórin, Alatar, and all the other Maiar. Olórin speculated that it was because something had happened there that Pallando did not want to remember, but he did not go so far as to push the issue with his friend. He knew that the story would come out in time, and he would get his knowledge then.
"Olórin."
Olórin turned to the voice that had mentioned his name, and smiled. "Pallando, old friend! It is good to see you again."
Pallando laughed, his iridescent blue robes shimmering in the soft dreamlike silver light of Lórien, and nodded. "And it is good to see you again, Olórin. How fare things here?"
"Everything is well." Olórin gazed at Pallando with a serious mien. "You desired to speak with me about something?"
Pallando sighed, and nodded. "Yes. I came to ask for your aid."
Olórin was a little surprised. He did not know how he could aid Pallando, or why he would come to seek his aid in the first place. "And what aid may I provide you?"
"I seek your wisdom in finding my daughter."
Olórin's eyes widened in disbelief at what Pallando had just said. He had not anticipated that at all. "A daughter? You did not tell me of this when you returned from Arda!"
Pallando smiled and bowed his head ruefully. "I had intended to keep it secret, hoping to forget as time went by, but I cannot forget my child."
Olórin shook his head. The union of one of the Maiar and one of the Children of Iluvatar was not unheard-of, but it had happened only once. The union was that of Melyanna, a handmaid of Vána and Estë, and Elwë Singollo, who had been known in Beleriand as Melian and Elu Thingol. Their child was Lúthien Tinúviel, who, because of her love for the mortal Beren Erchamion, sang for the Vala Námo that they be given one more chance to be together. But Lúthien paid a price: she was reborn as a mortal, and died a mortal's death with her husband. Thus, Olórin knew, if Pallando did have a child, that child would have been of the same rank as Lúthien – meaning that she should have made the journey to the Undying Lands with her father and mother. But why had they not? "The last Elven ship arrived with you in it. If you had taken a wife and had a child, they would be with you on that ship."
"They could not come with me. Our Lords would not have permitted it."
"Why? Surely they would welcome an Elf-female and her child, regardless if the child had been yours or not."
"That is what I mean." Pallando looked up at him a meaningful gaze. "My wife is not an Elf. She is mortal."
Olórin was stunned beyond belief. A mortal woman? Pallando had taken a mortal for a wife? How could that be? Why had he done so? It was an unprecedented occurrence: one of the Maiar taking a mortal for a wife and having a child by her. He would not have been so surprised if it had been an Elf-lady, but it was not. Why Pallando, he wondered as he stared at his friend. Why a mortal?
Pallando chuckled wearily. "I see the question in your eyes, Olórin. Why did I do it? Why a mortal? Those are questions I tried to answer over the five years spent with my family and the fifteen since I returned, but I can give no answer save that love has the power to encompass all races, and that it is powerful enough to shatter all barriers. I truly love my wife, and our daughter is the most precious gift I have ever received. Her very existence seems to say that Eru approves of the love my wife and I share, for I doubt if He would ever have allowed our daughter to be conceived and born had He thought otherwise."
Olórin nodded slowly, digesting all of this information. It was almost too much to handle. A child of Maiar and Adan blood was something he had not encountered before…and something very, very dangerous. Olórin was well aware of all the possibilities that such a union presented: Lúthien herself was proof of that. A child born of the Maiar was possessed of many gifts – gifts that were both wondrous and perilous. It was only because of Melyanna's tutelage that Lúthien was not consumed by the power that throbbed within her blood. What would happen to a child – a half-mortal child, at that – without the proper guidance? The idea frightened him. "Why did you not take her with you?"
"I did not wish to do such a thing without the permission of my Lords," Pallando replied. "And…I thought that by returning here, I would be able to forget. I did not wish to interfere with their lives anymore, for I am a Maia and they are mortal, and have their own lives to lead. But I cannot bear to be separated from my child, my own flesh and blood. It is painful enough to be torn away from my wife until the End, but from my child as well?"
Olórin smiled slightly and patted Pallando on the shoulder in a comforting gesture. "All will be well, my friend. Did you speak to your Lords about this?"
Pallando nodded. "I have. I spoke to Lord Ulmo first, and he brought the message to Lord Manwë. They agreed to have a small group of the Quendi return to Arda and search for her."
Olórin smiled. "Well then, your troubles are solved! The people of Gondor still remember much of the lore of the Elves. Even then, they never truly forget the Quendi, for the ruling house of Telcontar does not forget its origins in the union of Aragorn Elessar and Arwen Undómiel. They will help you find your child."
Pallando shook his head. "No, they cannot help. My daughter was not born of the people in the North. She was born of the people in the South, those who inhabit the area of the Great Desert."
Olórin's eyes widened. The South was a dangerous place, one where the Quendi had never ventured before. "But the Quendi have never ventured that far before. They do not know what the land is like."
Pallando smiled grimly. "That is what I feared. They are unfamiliar with the people and the land, and that may lead to their failure. But whom else shall we send? Our Lords will not allow us to return to Arda, and so I cannot venture there myself to find my daughter. The Quendi who will be sent are my only hope of ever seeing my daughter again.
"That is why I came to you, old friend. You are most familiar with the Quendi. I ask you to name those amongst them who can be sent as emissaries to Arda, to seek and find my daughter, and return with her to Aman."
Olórin gazed at his friend. He sensed the desperation in Pallando's plight, as well as the deep love he felt for his child. It was true: the greatest wrong one can commit against a parent is to tear him or her away from his or her child, and never have contact with said offspring.
And, if he was correct, then Pallando's child was quite possibly in danger. After all, a child of Maiar blood would be possessed of powers the other mortal magic-users in the South of Arda would kill to own.
"I believe I know of a few who may be able to help," Olórin said slowly. "But you must tell me all you know about the South, for I will only be able to decide if I know what conditions they must face…"
[1]= A term used for the choice that the Half-Elves – Eärendil, Elwing, and all their descendants – had to make (or rather, were privileged to make): whether to be mortal or to be immortal.
[2]= He is one of the two Blue Wizards mentioned in The Unfinished Tales. His name in Middle-Earth is not mentioned, and neither are his doings. All that is known is that he ventured either to the South or to the East, and there accomplished whatever mission the Valar assigned to him. In The Unfinished Tales, Pallando is a vassal of either Oromë, or Mandos and Nienna. For this story, I am going against all of that, and assigning Pallando to Ulmo.
[3]= This is Gandalf's original name, the one that was used by the Valar and his fellow Maiar when he was in the Undying Lands.
[4]= He is one of the two Blue Wizards mentioned in The Unfinished Tales. Like Pallando, his name in Middle-Earth is not mentioned, and the same thing goes for what he did. All that is known is that he either went South or East as the Valar assigned him. In The Unfinished Tales Alatar is a vassal of Oromë.
[5]= This is Saruman's original name.
[6]= This is Radagast's original name.