The fresh winter air blew frostily through the open window of a common-sized room, caressing the walls lined with books both ancient and contemporary. Dusty volumes on the history of Middle-Earth stood in chronological order alongside journals concerning the medicinal properties of various plants. A fire blazed in the substantial hearth opposite the door, throwing an amber hue on the four walls and a sturdy oak table dominating the centre of the room. Its' smooth surface was covered by various maps illustrating Mordor, Gondor, Rohan and an assortment of other realms. A candle flickered stubbornly on the table, struggling against the biting wind until finally it was extinguished by a gnarled hand.
Closing the unlatched window an old man shuffled towards the map-laden table. Resting both hands on its edge he contemplated the collection terrains, chewing on tobacco as he did so. His face, both young and old, filled with wisdom and at the same time an exuberance that only youth can enjoy, was bent in the low firelight with rapturous attention. His eyebrows knit together as he studied the maps, tracing mountains and rivers with his fingers. The Loudwater, the Misty Mountains, the Anduin, Lorien, Fangorn, the Falls of Rauros, Emyn Muil, the Dead Marshes and finally Mordor. A journey filled with challenges, but something that this man had faced many times over.
"East to West, North to South I have traveled and, nonetheless, never again shall I face such a journey in my lifetime." He muttered.
Hacking loudly he collapsed into the grand armchair beside the fire; staring into its depths he prepared his pipe. Grave and contemplative he puffed with ease as he considered the glow of the blaze before him. A pointed hat, of a like colour to his grey robes, rested on a corner of the headrest while a staff, large and insipid, leaned against his forearm. Everything from his posture to his movements heaved with weariness and belied his age. It was during these silent, solitary times that he felt the culmination of his years fall like a lodestone around his neck.
"Old bones, young spirit" he chuckled to himself.
He had not long been seated thus when the door silently opened and closed as if a gust of wind had gained entry and left as soon as it had come, depositing a tall, wraith-like figure within. It approached the armchair slowly taking in the picturesque portrait of the elderly man in his pensive state. He did not budge as it knelt at his side and joined him in his scrutiny of the ochre warmth.
"I trust you slept well."
It was more of a statement than a question but the figure sensed the old mans' question behind it.
"I did. Who has been known not to have enjoyed the deepest slumber when benefiting from the hospitality of Lord Elrond, except maybe for one of your hobbit friends. He may be excused however; the circumstances were unusual to say the least."
A twitch of the lips was all the reaction the man gave as he listened to its reply. Shifting his weight slowly he turned to face the hooded figure beside him. Analysing it steadily with probing eyes he paused, deciding on something.
"You have not answered my question Luthien."
Prompted by the name spoken the figure drew its gaze from the hearth to the armrest of the chair and lingered in thought.
"It has been a while since I have heard the name of my early days Olorin. In answer to your question the same as always. I am visited by memories I cannot banish from my mind."
Abruptly the old man placed his hand within the depths of the dark cowl; turning it to face him he searched its shadows. The only thing that revealed his disturbance was a flicker in his eyes beneath his bushy brows. A few moments passed before he rose carefully and gestured towards the table. Busying himself with the candle and parchments he waited for the other to join him.
"You have aged since I met with you last. It is in your walk, your breath and your movements my friend."
The necromancer smiled to himself while organising the collection of maps before him.
"Forgive me but that was barely a few weeks ago, has my degeneration been so rapid."
The wraith stirred and in one swift movement was alongside him. It looked at the man before it who was preoccupied with the parchments in his hands.
"You know what I mean Olorin. It was after the last meeting of the White Council. Saruman the deceiver declared the one ring had been carried to the sea by the Anduin."
When the maps were organised he turned to face his companion. Smiling he grasped its shoulders in both hands and surveyed it thoughtfully.
"Yes, it has been too long my friend. Much too long but you know as well as I do that matters have taken themselves into their own hands and I must be here to oversee proceedings."
The weathered faced smiled for a while longer before turning to look out the window. Four little people sat laughing and chattering amongst themselves in the courtyard below. Their gaiety and innocence made the old man frown broodingly.
"You cannot protect them. They will not always have you there Olorin, both you and I know this. Do not burden yourself with things you could not have prevented."
"They have endured enough already. Have seen enough already. He should not have to bear this burden."
The figure stood silently in thought before moving to the old mans side. Drawing back its hood it gazed upon the Halflings below.
"It is as the Valar have deemed it. I sense a strength in Frodo you do not give him credit for, a strength that all four possess. Their loyalty to each other will see them through many difficulties."
The old man smiled at his friend. Her ebony hair pulled back by warrior braids either side of her head accentuated her clear green eyes, which gleamed in the sunlight.
"I see none of your beauty has deserted you my dear."
Unexpectedly he was rewarded with a smile before her face returned to its customary neutral expression.
"It can be both a curse and blessing at times."
"I'm sure," he chuckled "men staring with gaping mouths are a true blight and nuisance. Of course I prefer them charging at me swords drawn!"
Shrugging exasperatedly she returned to the table to examine the detailed map of Mordor.
"It is a curse my friend. Women are not given the same consideration as men unless they are of high birth and that is slight even then. Maybe the Valar were mistaken in sending the women youthful and the men elderly. Perhaps it should have been the other way around."
The necromancer stood opposite her, wondering slightly at her choice.
"Yes, I was there long enough to remember every hill, pit and scorched stone," she whispered as if reading his thoughts "but every so often I like to see it placed in front of me. It does not seem so terrifying compared to the images that are stored in my mind."
Her face remained statuesque, like marble, but he could feel the underlying despair radiating from her.
"Come," he boomed jovially, breaking the silence between them, "it is nearly noon. We have tarried here for longer than I had anticipated."
Jolted from her thoughts she regarded him inquisitively.
"Where are we meant to be?"
"You have students to meet and educate," he laughed. "We should not keep them too long from their studies."
Matching his light mood she smiled softly and replaced the map as he strode towards the door. Turning to follow him she cast one last glance in the table's direction before closing the door firmly behind her.
Authors note:
Thanks to my reviewers! It is greatly appreciated.
Hope to keep the updating as frequent as possible but I have Christmas Exams coming up so please bear with me!
My feckin computer doesn't seem to be able to keep the spacing format when i transfer these chapters to the web. If any one out there has any clue how to fix this give me a heads up PLEASE. It's really annoying for me and for you lot to read.