Chapter Six: White Wizard, White City

Morning came bright and clear, stirring me from a deep slumber. I wondered vaguely how I could have slept after what I had heard the previous night, but I was distracted by Legolas' voice calling me. "Hurry it up, Isilden! Everyone else is ready. We're waiting for you."

Nodding hurriedly, I scrambled upright and joined my six comrades. Aragorn handed me an apple, which I accepted gratefully. I hadn't eaten for quite a while, more than two days. The man smiled at me as I devoured my breakfast ravenously. "Hungry, are you?"

"Starving," I answered, swallowing a juicy mouthful and wiping my lips. "Did you sleep well?"

"Well enough," he replied. "And you?"

I hesitated, wondering whether or not to reveal to Aragorn what I had overheard just hours ago. I looked around nervously; Boromir was talking with Legolas, and seemed not to be paying attention to anything else.

Taking a deep breath, I told my friend what I could remember of Boromir's lustful, angry, fearful words. I related how Boromir had repeated his words of the previous day, when he had been fighting with Frodo for the Ring: "It should have been mine…"

The man's face grew troubled as I went on to explain Boromir's thoughts of anger at Frodo's betrayal, and then of sympathy for "the little ones", as he had called them. Aragorn cast a sidelong glance at his kinsman before turning back to me. "Did you hear anything else?"

"No," I replied, shaking my head. "That's all."

"I see." Aragorn's eyes flicked over to Boromir once again before he nodded to me again. "Come on. We do not stop until nightfall."

"What about breakfast?" Pippin's voice piped up from beside me.

"We've already had it," the man replied.

"We've had one, yes," the hobbit said, grinning, "but what about second breakfast?"

There was no reply from Aragorn. Merry leaned over to his friend, murmuring in his ear, "I don't think he knows about second breakfast, Pip."

Pippin grew worried at this statement. "What about elevenses?" he asked. "Luncheon? Afternoon tea… dinner… supper? D'you think he knows about them?"

"I wouldn't count on it," Merry replied gravely.

Pippin glanced questioningly at him, and frowned as an apple landed in his friend's hands. Merry handed the fruit to his young companion, just as another apple struck Pippin on the forehead. I couldn't suppress a laugh.

We walked on, down the Hill of Hearing and across the Nindalf. I avoided eye contact with Boromir whenever possible, but was forced to talk with him as he asked me about my first night as a member of the Fellowship. I replied that it was a lot better than other recent nights, which was true. But I didn't bring up the topic of the man's unconscious mumblings.

As Aragorn had instructed, we didn't stop for a rest until dusk fell. It was too soggy in the marshes to build a fire, so we ate a cold supper of lembas bread and whatever else we could find in our packs. We slept on the driest patches of land we each could find; it was every man (or elf, dwarf, hobbit or Uruk) for himself.

Later on that night, I was roused from a light sleep by Legolas and Aragorn's voices whispering nearby. It seemed to be important, but they didn't wake the rest of their comrades. I pretended to sleep as I listened.

"…You are sure of this?" Aragorn asked.

"Yes," Legolas replied gravely. "Lye aphadar aen. Nim Istar tulea." (We are being followed. The White Wizard comes.)

"Saruman?" Aragorn whispered. I snapped awake at the name, my heart thumping in my chest. Legolas nodded.

"Manke?" (Where?) the Ranger asked.

The elf pointed toward the west. Aragorn reached for his sword, which was in his belt where he always kept it. Legolas picked up his bow and a quiver of arrows. They both rose, and then Aragorn murmured, "Wait. Do you think we should tell Isilden?"

"I don't know," Legolas replied. "It would probably frighten him to know that his worst enemy is so near, and he might also want revenge."

Aragorn nodded. "We should leave him. He's better off not knowing."

"Right," the elf nodded. "Let's go."

----

As my two companions slipped away, I got up silently, but hesitated before following them. What if Saruman wanted vengeance on me for my treachery? What if he wanted to show me Elennar's mangled corpse?

A sob caught in my throat at the thought. Then I remembered Legolas' words about me: "…he might also want revenge."

I wanted revenge, all right. There was almost nothing I wanted more, except to see my sister safe again. With that, I braced myself for what I would face and made to leave. But suddenly a gruff whisper made me freeze in my tracks.

"Just where do you think you're off to?"

"N- nowhere," I lied hurriedly, glancing over my shoulder at Gimli. "I can't sleep. I'm just going for a walk."

"Right," the dwarf snorted. "A walk after Aragorn and Legolas, to find the White Wizard. Hah."

"Well…" I had to admit defeat. "Yes, actually; I was going to follow them. I want vengeance for what Saruman did to me, and for my sister. I'll no longer rest in peace until I have it."

"Brave words," said Gimli admiringly. "But I'm coming with you, laddie." He moved to my side. "Which way did they go?"

"West," I replied. "Come on. Don't wake any of the others."

Gimli nodded, closing his fingers firmly around the handle of his broad axe. "Shall we?"

I nodded, my eyes narrowing. "Yes. I've got a score to settle with that pile of Orc dung they call a wizard."

Aragorn and Legolas were not far ahead, but even before we had taken a few steps I heard the elf hiss, "He heard us, Aragorn. Here he comes now, and Gimli as well. It was bound to happen."

"You're right," Aragorn sighed. He half-turned toward us, calling, "Well, come on then."

Gimli and I quickly caught up to our companions, moving like shadows across the marshes. Legolas glanced down at me as we made our way west.

"Aren't you scared, Isilden? Saruman is second only to Sauron himself. You should be terrified of him; think of what he did to you, what he might have done to Elennar..."

"I know," I replied icily. "I know I should be frightened, but I'm just too angry to feel the fear. All I want right now is revenge; cold, sweet revenge."

"Revenge can be sweet," the elf informed me. "But often it turns sour, when the one wanting vengeance is the one who pays the toll. Are you sure you want to risk it?"

"Of course I do!" I cried, my eyes blazing with hatred and rage. "I'd do anything for my sister. She's the whole world to me; I'd willingly die for her, if it came to that."

"Don't make too many rash promises, Isilden," Aragorn warned. "They may turn against you in the end."

"I don't care," I snarled. "I just want to see Saruman dead, and be the first to spit on his grave."

"Don't we all," Gimli muttered beside me. "I wouldn't mind taking his head off myself, now you bring it up. And I'll wager Legolas is just itching to use him for target practise." He glanced up at the elf, whose lips formed a tiny, furtive smile. Aragorn frowned at him, then suddenly halted and put a finger to his lips. "Shh…"

"What is it?" I whispered. "Is it him?"

One bleak nod confirmed my thoughts, as well as tightening my resolve. Legolas gazed down at me and held something out. "Here. If you want revenge, you'll need this."

I accepted the object, one of his long hunting knives. "Thanks. I'll make good use of this."

Legolas nodded, his hand tightening around his bow. "He's here somewhere. I can feel it."

"Do not let him speak," Aragorn whispered. "He will cast a spell on us." He slowly drew his sword and held it at the ready. "We must be quick."

I gripped Legolas' knife firmly as I advanced with my comrades. "Come out, Saruman," I muttered under my breath. "I'm ready for you."

There seemed to be no reply from the darkness. But Aragorn raised his blade high and lunged, yelling, "Now!"

Legolas instantly released an arrow from his bow as Gimli swung his axe. Both weapons were swiftly deflected in a burst of white light, startling their carriers. At the same time, Aragorn yelled in pain as his sword glowed red-hot. He dropped it as if it were a poisonous serpent. There was only the White Wizard and I.

"All right, you," I snarled, advancing upon the source of the glow. "Prepare to die, Saruman!" This is for you, Elennar! I thought as I leapt. "AAAAHHHHH!"

I was actually in midair when some powerful force blasted me backward, knocking me to the ground and forcing the breath from my lungs. The knife flew from my fingers and zinged away into the gloom as a deep, resonant voice emanated from the center of the Wizard's bright radiance.

"You're a bit too late for that, I'm afraid. I've done that already; quite recently, in fact."

"Who are you?" Aragorn shouted. "Show yourself!"

The light faded, and I gasped at the figure it revealed…

A tall man stood before me, clad all in shining white, like the sun gleaming upon new snow. A staff was held in his right hand, but not the black staff of Saruman. It was white, with an intricately-carved top. The hand that held it wore a ring on its finger, a gold band set with a blood-red ruby.

The man's eyes were pale blue, like a clear summer sky. He was smiling calmly at us, and I heard Aragorn gasp in shock. "It can't be!"

"Forgive me!" Legolas cried, bowing low. "I mistook you for Saruman."

"I am Saruman," the wizard replied. "Or rather, Saruman as he should have been."

"But – you fell!" Aragorn cried in disbelief. "I saw you!"

"Through fire and water," the wizard nodded. "On the lowest dungeon, on the highest peak I fought him, the Balrog of Morgoth. Until at last I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountainside."

My three companions stared at the man as he continued to speak, his eyes roving over each of them in turn. "Darkness took me, and I strayed out of thought and time. The stars wheeled overhead, and every day was as long as a life age of the earth. But it was not the end; I felt life in me again. I've been sent back, until my task is done."

Aragorn suddenly seemed to understand. "Gandalf?" he cried.

Gandalf nodded. "Yes. That is what they used to call me… Gandalf the Grey. That was my name."

Legolas nodded, and the wizard said, "I am Gandalf the White, and I come back to you now at the turn of the tide." Then his gaze dropped down to me, and he held out his hand. "Here, let me help you."

Still slightly winded by my fall, I allowed Gandalf to pull me to my feet. Gimli was still gawping mutely at the wizard as I found Legolas' knife and returned it to the elf.

"Come," said Aragorn, turning to leave and looking at us over his shoulder. "We should tell the others of this."

Gandalf, Legolas, Gimli and I all nodded, and followed him silently back to our campsite.