Chapter 13

Mithrandir is back

Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR, or Neal or Kel or Harry Potter. What I do own are my random ideas and the ability to get high off my own laughter.

Aragorn paused, scanning the ground for any traces of the hobbits. Sighing, he straightened up, not having found anything. Suddenly, all 6 of them tensed up. Something was behind them. Simultaneously, they turned around, weapons up. An old man was standing a few feet away, his figure silhouetted by the feeble light shining through the treetops.

"Who are you and what do you want?" Aragorn demanded.

"I know who you are looking for. "The man said, not responding to Aragorn's question. "They passed by not too long ago, and met someone they did not expect to meet."

"Who are you?" Aragorn emphasized the words, as if the man didn't speak the common tongue.

"We have traveled together before, Isildur's heir."

Aragorn's eyes widened. The stranger knew Aragorn as the heir of Isildur. That was uncommon. Only the people they knew would know Aragorn's true identity. A stranger on the road would only see him as a typical Gondorian. Aragorn could blend in very well when he wished. This made everyone suspicious, especially Legolas. Thinking he was an enemy of the line of Isildur, he shot an arrow at the old man, but the arrow suddenly changed direction in midair, going off to the side.

"We are old friends. Do you not remember. . . Legolas?"

Legolas froze. The man took off the hood of his white cloak. Emily found herself staring into Gandalf's face.

"Gandalf?" she gasped.

"Yes, I was called that once," he frowned, as if trying to remember.

Itarilde looked relieved. "I thought you were Saruman."

Gandalf nodded. "But I am Saruman."

The Emilys and Harry recoiled in fear and confusion.

"I am Saruman," Gandalf repeated, "If not in physical appearance, in his rank, for I am now Gandalf the White."

Legolas gaped. He pulled himself together and cried, "Gandalf! I am sorry I shot at you! I thought you were an enemy, and. . . and how in Middle-Earth did you survive that fall?"

"Tell us what happened," Emily pleaded.

"I don't know if I am ready yet to relive the grim tale, but here is the story from my account," Gandalf replied.

Flashback:

Down he fell. Down, down, down. . . Gandalf squinted in the dark, trying to locate his foe. Suddenly, a blast of fire surrounded him, burning his robe to ashes. And yet they still kept falling. . .

Then, quite abruptly, both Gandalf and the balrog fell into a deep pool of icy water. Shivering, the wizard followed the balrog into a dry tunnel at the bottom of the pool, leading right into the heart of Moria, into the uttermost foundations of stone. After their trip through the water the balrog had been extinguished of all flame. He was now a snake-like writhing creature, fleeing along the tunnels, with Gandalf behind him all the while, slicing at him with his sword. They groped along in the dark until they came to the foot of a set of long stairs. They climbed up, higher, higher, higher. . . Gandalf wasn't sure how much more he could take. He was a maia, yes, but he did have human limits.

When he thought he had just about finished off his strength, they reached the top. On the very summit of the tower of Celebdil the balrog sprang to life with new flames, brighter and more fiery than before. By now Gandalf had to reach into his inner self, calling on the last reserves of his strength. With a great cry he leaped toward the balrog, striking rapidly with his sword. Eventually, the balrog, annoyed by his attacking, moved backward, out of reach of Gandalf's sword. In doing so, he stepped over the edge of the tower and fell to his doom. This time, though, Gandalf watched the flame-whip carefully, making sure it wasn't going to come back up and bring him down again. It was then that he saw the black dots dancing at the edge of his vision. He staggered back from the drop before him and collapsed onto the hard stone with a loud grunt.

End of Flashback.

"It was then that Gwaihir the eagle bore me to the woods of Lorien, and there I was given the white garments I wear now."

"So you're here, but now where are we going?" Harry asked, now that they had their leader back.

"We are going to Edoras," replied the old wizard. "Much devilry has been at work at Meduseld."

"Devilry?" asked Itarilde, "What devilry?"

"Saruman has his ways. You will see when we get there," Gandalf would say no more.

"How will we get to Edoras? On foot? Our horses have run away." Legolas informed Gandalf.

Gandalf smiled slightly. "I think not." He whistled, and the most beautiful horse Itarilde had ever seen came galloping over. His gaits looked effortless. It wouldn't have made much difference if he had been galloping on cloud. He stopped and stood beside Gandalf, and Itarilde admired his well-defined withers, his sloping hindquarters, and the way he held his proud head. She was so immersed, staring at this handsome creature, that she almost didn't notice Galad nuzzling her arm. At first she was startled, wondering where her horse had come from, but quickly realized that the image before her eyes was real and she wasted no time in wrapping her arms around her horse.

"I'm so glad you're safe," Itarilde whispered to her horse, "I would never have forgiven myself if anything had happened to you."

She had a thing for horses, apparently.

"Um. . . Itarilde?"

Itarilde looked up and found everyone staring at her. She then noticed that she was literally clinging onto Galad's neck, much like a young child onto her parents. Blushing furiously, she let go and mounted up.

They would ride bareback for now, as the saddles were still back at their former campsite. When everybody had mounted, Gandalf led the way at a walk.

"Where were the horses?" Harry asked, holding his horse's mane in an iron grip, hoping he wouldn't fall off.

"When the horses ran away last night, they must have met Shadowfax, Gandalf's horse. Because Shadowfax is one of the Maeras, Theoden's best horses, they would have met him before. My guess is that they stayed with him until Gandalf called him over." Aragorn responded. "Is that right, Gandalf?"

Gandalf nodded absently, his eyes trained on something far off into the distance. Without warning, he led them all into a canter. And so they started their journey to Meduseld.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I've added something to the end of chapter one, a description of the Emilys, in case you were wondering who they are and all. I've put off putting that up for a while. . .