The truth of the matter was, that Gandalf had been stricken by the spiders. After Ingeras had run out of sight, Gandalf had fought hard and true against the large beasts. Yet, even a wizard does not have eyes in the back of his head. Gandalf had been engrossed in fending off two spiders at once, that he did not notice the one directly behind him! It had stung him through the chest. Gandalf then flinched, stunned, almost paralyzed, and had fallen to the ground. And the spiders would've taken him and strung him up then and there, had Gandalf, though weak, not snatched up his staff and teleported himself to the West gate, just on the outskirts of the forest. Safe from the spiders, he became fully paralyzed as the spider venom invaded his veins.
Beorn, the skin-changer, had sensed the wizard's presence and investigated the edge of his borders. He'd carried the old friend to his dwelling, and summoning the Eagles, the great birds had come for Gandalf and taken him as fast as they could to Lothlorien. Lady Galadriel was most alarmed when the Eagles had flown in, bearing her dear friend.
Even with the Golden Wood's best healers at work, it had taken a full week to get the spider venom out of Gandalf's body-not used to dealing with such a catastrophe regarding spiders, it had taken them a while to produce an antidote-, and then he'd had to remain bedridden to regain his much lost strength, the skirmish having left him greatly weakened.
One of those nights, Gandalf was semi-conscious, lying in his bed with Celeborn and Galadriel each at his side, keeping watch over him. Galadriel mentally spoke to him:
You have brought one not of our world to Middle Earth, for refuge.
Yes. I had to do it! Gandalf replied in his mind.
You were hindered from completing your task by the spiders.
Aye. And I must take leave of you, my dear lady, as soon as my strength is regained. The poor lad will believe I have abandoned him. I must see this done! I promised his father.
Galadriel stroked the old man's head. Do not fret too much about the boy, Mithrandir. She said tenderly. For I see that he is safe. He is in Rivendell, under the roof of Elrond. They will look after him and give him the help his faint heart needs.
Is he? Good. Gandalf thought in great relief. I am glad to know. Yet, this promise will not go unfulfilled. I must go back to his own world. There I must find the tormented soul who would give anything to return to the life he loved. Ingeras must be with his father, the last family he has! Without the other, both of them are broken, maybe beyond repair.
And you will find him. Galadriel assured him. But he will not abide as you ask.
Nonsense! Of course he will. Gandalf argued. Galadriel merely smiled at him.
Gandalf struggled to be a pious patient, but he was itching to leave and complete his mission. The moment the healers said he was well enough to travel, he instantly snatched up his staff and his signature pointed hat. "Forgive me, dear lady." He bowed respectively to Celeborn and Galadriel. "But I must take leave of you now. Time is of the essence, and I must find an old friend...or at least, what became of him! I thank you for your kindness and gracious hospitality."
"You are always welcome here, Mithrandir." Celeborn said.
"If ever you need my help, I will come." Galadriel smiled divinely, her otherworldly gaze bearing into the old wizard, warming his heart. With that, Gandalf bid them farewell.
Gandalf traveled by foot to Mehmed's camp, the last place he'd seen Vlad. The lavish tents had been destroyed, and Gandalf had to brace himself as the nauseating scent of decaying flesh hit his nostrils. The people of Transylvania who had not received Vlad's blood when he offered it, had rid themselves of any Turkish luxuries or banners when they'd discovered the camp. But they chose to leave the bodies to rot in the sun. After how the brutal Turks had treated their people and tried to take their sons, the people felt they deserved to die an undignified death.
Gandalf frowned as he stepped around the hideous corpses. Oh, he'd been in war, many times! He was not a stranger to the aftermath of bloody battles. But with every step he took, he dreaded coming upon the body of Prince Vlad, even though by now the only recognizable part of him would be his dragon armor. Gandalf forlornly searched among the carnage but to his relief, he did not come upon Vlad's cadaver. Yet, the wizard was also dismayed: where was the prince?
"You search for the master, eh? He is not here." A scraggly voice slurred behind Gandalf. Gandalf rolled his eyes. It was Shkelgim, the gypsy. Gandalf, usually a very kind-hearted person, had never liked the miscreant. He had an odd fancy for dark and paranormal things. Gandalf frowned darkly, turning around to face and stare down the mysterious gypsy.
"Your master and I have no ties whatsoever." Gandalf growled. "Now if you'll excuse me." He turned on his heel.
"Ahh, but you do, master wizard. You do." Shkelgim grinned.
"I do not know your master, nor do I care to!" Gandalf huffed. "Be on your way, rodent. I won't have anything to do with the dark lord you serve! Leave me be." Gandalf began to march away.
"You look for the prince, no?" Shkelgim asked. Gandalf halted.
"Aye." He grunted.
"If you follow me, good wizard, I can take you to him."
"No thank you. I prefer to find him myself." Gandalf said abruptly.
"You can search for days, you won't find him." Shkelgim sneered. Gandalf glared down at him.
"Show me!" He demanded.
Gandalf begrudgingly followed the gypsy to the last place in Transylvania he'd wanted to investigate. He was led to a dark, ominous looking mountain that thundered and clashed with lightning on the very top. Gandalf did not like this. This couldn't be anything good! Broken Tooth, the dreaded mountain. "Pray tell, just why have you brought me here?" He asked gruffly.
"You look for the prince. You will find him in there." Shkelgim pointed up to a high ledge on the mountain.
"You lie!" Gandalf hissed.
"Nay, good master wizard. The old master has departed. You look for the prince, the Son of the Dragon. You must go up there."
Gandalf pursed his lips. He didn't want to believe it! Nothing but bad news ever came out of this mountain! But he was anxious to find Vlad. He prayed that the gypsy was dead wrong! "Leave me." Gandalf said dryly. The gypsy bowed and scuttled away. Gandalf took one long, deep breath then began the dreadful ascent.
The higher the wizard climbed, the thicker and fouler the air became. Gandalf finally clambered over the ledge. He frowned deeply with sorrow as he gazed dismally at the open mouth of the cave. Unsheathing his sword, and lighting up his staff, he cautiously approached. A swarm of bats zoomed out. Gandalf furrowed his brows. Bats never came out in the day time. "Something's disturbed them." Gandalf breathed then stepped inside.
Despite being a powerful wizard, Gandalf's knees were buckling. This dark, foreboding cave whispered nothing but of evil. Gandalf came to a layout of some sort. He cringed to find skulls and crushed bone under his feet. He thought he heard something! A whoosh of some kind, and what sounded like an animal snarl. "Who's there?!" Gandalf bellowed. When nothing came and no one answered. Gandalf pounded his staff into the ground and a blinding light swept through the cave, shaking the floor. A pained cry like an animal in distress shrieked from somewhere in the shadows. Gandalf, raising his sword, approached the sound.
"Show yourself!" Gandalf yelled, pounding his staff again. Another cry rang out and Gandalf heard footsteps coming his way. He braced himself. A shadowed figure slowly emerged from the shadows, panting with sweat. He stopped at the mouth of another cavern and would not come any closer to the light.
"Gandalf!" The creature sputtered. Gandalf gasped and gaped in horrified disbelief.
"It cannot be!" He moaned.
"It is. It's me." Vlad said dryly. Gandalf winced.
"Vlad...Vlad Tepes..." He sniffled and tried to step closer.
"Don't come near me." Vlad warned him. "I cannot bear the light of your staff." Gandalf lowered his sword.
"Vlad, my dear boy! What has befallen you that this is what you would become?" Gandalf asked sadly.
"I wish you didn't have to see me like this. You shouldn't have come here, Gandalf." Vlad said.
"I had to." Gandalf interjected. "What happened to you?" Vlad's eyes fell to the ground.
"I didn't want to become this, Gandalf!" He cried. "I fought against it. I resisted! It was the only way I could defeat the Turks, and save my people...save my family."
"And how? Selling your soul to the devil? Did you think that wise?" Gandalf asked angrily.
"Do you know what it's like, to be backed up against the wall? And knowing that one of two decisions you choose is going to destroy someone either way?" Vlad retorted sharply. "I had to become this, Gandalf! It was the only way. The sultan wanted our sons. So they would grow to be monsters just like them..." he slowly looked back into the wizard's face, "...like I was before." Gandalf sighed silently. Yes, he knew the history of Vlad's past as a child under the Turks. "He wanted my son! I was not about to shove my son into the hands of brutes, to take away his innocent soul and turn him into a creature of hate! And if it meant becoming this, then so be it!"
"And what would Mirena say, if she knew?" Gandalf asked.
"Mirena is dead. She knew. She kept me going. I was tested, forced to go three days resisting the blood I craved insatiably. Then the Turks came, and it was almost sunrise. I was about to be restored!" There were heavy tears pouring down Vlad's face now. "Mehmed tricked me. And by the time I got to Mirena, it was too late. They took Ingeras. Mirena was too far gone."
"You fed." Gandalf said lowly. Vlad's shoulders shook with sobbing as he nodded.
"She told me to do it. I didn't want to!" Vlad wailed. "Believe me, Gandalf. She was my wife! My beloved one, and the light of my life. I didn't want to kill her! I didn't! I loved her!" He sobbed heavily, dropping to his knees. "But she was dying in my arms, and our son was in danger...she...she told me to do it. She told me to! She told me..." At that point, Vlad threw himself to the ground, weeping like a child. Gandalf bit his lip sympathetically. He stooped down next to the crying prince and touched his shoulder.
"Your son needs you, Vlad." Gandalf told him. Vlad looked up at him.
"Ingeras! Is he?"
"He's safe, my boy. He is in Rivendell, under the House of Lord Elrond. Trust me, he could not be in a better place at a time like this." Gandalf smiled warmly. Vlad breathed a sigh of relief.
"What I wouldn't give to be with him again." He whispered.
"You still can." Gandalf said encouragingly.
"No." Vlad shook his head.
"What?" Gandalf sputtered.
"I cannot go to him, let him see me like this, what I have become. What is left of my people fear me, and I cannot expose myself to the sunlight. I am condemned, Gandalf. I am a scourge on this earth. There is no hope for me." Vlad said in defeat.
"There is hope, dear boy." Gandalf shook his head. "You come with me to Middle Earth, away from those who knew you. And I can bring you to people who can help you."
"It's not possible!" Vlad laughed mirthlessly.
"It is possible," Gandalf looked closely at him. Vlad gazed at the old wizard who'd been his friend for years. Gandalf would not give him false hope. Would he?
"Like I said, Gandalf. It's not possible. So go. Be on your way, and leave me in peace."
"It is possible! You just need to believe." Gandalf said firmly. Vlad froze. He stared skeptically at Gandalf, afraid to hope that he could ever be set free of this wretched monster he'd become. It couldn't be possible! Gandalf rolled his eyes and sat down. "Confound you, Vlad Tepes, you are as stubborn as a dwarf!" Gandalf huffed. "Well, I can wait just as long as you can."
"Well, then you will have a very long wait, my friend." Vlad said.
"We'll see about that." Gandalf smirked, crossing his arms.
