Chapter One

FA 3

Even Frodo had to smile when the golden haired elven prince bounded through the door.

"Well met, Little Sister!" he laughed, swinging her around in a circle.

"Finrod!" Galadriel scolded him. "Put me down!" Still laughing, he complied.

"What?" he asked innocently. "Can I not be happy to see my sister?"

Galadriel merely snorted in answer. Frodo glanced between the two, still grinning. When he had first met the elven princess, she had been fighting the long defeat, wise and perilous. Here, another side of her personality had come to the fore. Daughter and sister, she seemed younger.

Finrod had been a shock to first meet. Frodo had expected to meet a dignified Elf-lord, wise and powerful. While there was no doubting his wisdom or power, he actually reminded Frodo of Pippin; he always seemed to be on the edge of bouncing up and down. The Crown Prince of the Noldor faced life with an exuberance rarely seen in the elves.

Frodo was trying to figure out if they reminded him more of Pervinca and Pippin, or Freddy and Estella, when a voice cut through his thoughts.

"Will the two of you kindly act your ages?"

Finrod spun around and grinned.

"Which one?" he asked innocently. Olórin, for it was he who had entered, snorted.

"Either, as you are acting far younger than both," he said.

Frodo's grin faded from amused to nostalgic. It had been a slight shock to realize his friend was a Maia in the service of the Elder King, but Olórin was much the same as he was in Middle-earth.

His appearance had changed, of course. The white hair had become a white blond, and the black eyes had become a deep purple. But the twinkle in them was the same. Frodo had no problems recognizing Gandalf.

"Ah, Gandalf! I suppose that means something is going on," Bilbo said, with an amused smirk. Frodo's smile grew fond. While the old Hobbit was still frail, here on Tol Eressëa his mind was again sharp. While Bilbo had no intention of staying much longer, Frodo was glad that his uncle could spend his last years among the elves, and enjoy hearing first hand the tales he had spent his life studying.

"Can I not simply drop in to see a few old friends?" Olórin asked, mock grumbling.

"No," Bilbo grinned. "Any self-respecting Hobbit knows that your appearance means to look out: you are sure to drag someone on a mad adventure into the blue!"

The Hobbit and Maia exchanged grins. Frodo could still remember when Bilbo told Olórin that he had no intention of calling him anything other than Gandalf.

"I was introduced to you as Gandalf and called you Gandalf my whole life, even when I lived in Rivendell and everyone called you Mithrandir, and I have no intention of changing!" he'd said, as pert as a hundred and thirty-one year old hobbit could be. Olórin had laughed, and told Bilbo he could continue to call him Gandalf. Frodo himself tried to remember to call the Maia by his true name, and was mostly successful, though he did forget a few times.

"Truthfully, I am here for a very important purpose," Olórin began somberly. "I was invited to dinner."

Bilbo laughed. "Very important indeed!" he agreed.

Dinner was an interesting event, combining the culinary talents of both hobbits with those of Galadriel and her mother Eärwen. Eärwen and Finrod were visiting, reacquainting themselves with their daughter and sister. Arafinwë had come a few times, but either he or Finrod needed to be in Tirion, so they had never visited together after meeting the ship carrying the Ring-bearers at the harbor.

Eärwen had grown up as a princess of the Teleri, and so knew numerous ways to cook the fish that were so plentiful on Tol Eressëa. Galadriel contributed dishes that were a blend of Noldorin and Sindarin tastes, and the hobbits provided good Shire food. Everyone agreed it was a cultural blending of the most delicious kind.

Frodo was able to loose himself in the good food, and pleasant company. The amusing verbal sparing matches between the siblings, Eärwen's gentle nature and good humor, and of course Gandalf and Bilbo.

Dinner was a prolonged affair, but end it did. The talk for a time continued, but eventually Bilbo begged off, claiming he was too old to stay up any longer. They bid him goodnight, and then the company split; Galadriel and Eärwen remained indoors, quietly talking, while Finrod convinced Frodo and Olórin to wander the beach and look at the stars.

Frodo was convinced that there was an ulterior motive to Finrod's plan, either to get Eärwen and Galadriel alone, or to speak privately with him. The first to his mind seemed more likely, as he knew no reason Finrod would need to speak with him alone.

The conversation remained light as they wandered down the beach, Frodo marveling at the amount of stars visible: in the sky, mirrored in the water, or reflected in the jewels littering the sand.

"So now that the very important business of dinner is over, I suppose you are going to disappear again?" Frodo asked Olórin. "That is, if you truly have no plans to drag Bilbo or me off on an adventure."

Olórin hesitated. "Truthfully Frodo, we did have another reason for coming tonight," he said softly. Frodo was for some reason unsurprised. It seemed that this walk indeed had been proposed to get him alone.

"What is it?" he asked. Finrod stopped walking and looked the hobbit firmly in the eyes.

"First of all, know that you can refuse and everyone will understand and respect that," he said firmly. Frodo suddenly got the feeling that he was not going to like what was coming next. Finrod continued.

"The Valar are deciding Sauron's ultimate fate, and, should we wish it, the two of us also get a say as to what we believe it should be."

Frodo froze. "Why?" he demanded. Finrod shrugged.

"I am not sure, but I believe it is because Sauron for the past ages has been the enemy of both Men and Elves. It makes sense that the Valar would wish to include representatives of both." Finrod stopped and seemed to consider how to phrase what he said next. "I also had the feeling that if Celebrimbor and Ereinion Gil-galad were reborn they too would be included."

Frodo nodded, understanding what Finrod had been saying with his last sentence. The ones most hurt by Sauron would get a voice in his fate. He turned to Olórin, who had been standing there silent.

"What about you?" he asked. "You fought against him for so long."

Olórin sighed softly. "I could if I wished it," he admitted. "But I do not. I would be biased in this matter." Frodo cocked his head to the side, knowing there was more behind that than what his old friend was saying. Olórin smiled softly, recognizing the tenacious curiosity that Frodo inherited from his Took ancestry.

"He was my brother, Frodo," he explained quietly. "And I was the one who realized that he had turned his allegiance to Morgoth." He paused, and Frodo tried to take that information in.

"I agreed to go to Middle-earth to stand against him, but I did not know how effective I would be. He was always more powerful than I, and I was worried that my feelings would hinder me." He broke off, shaking his head. "But by the time the Istari were sent, there was almost nothing left of him that I recognized. He had lost himself long ago."

Olórin sighed, and his gaze slid out over the ocean to the East. "But I am still biased in this matter," he said, not looking at the Elf or Hobbit. "Even after all he has done, he is still my brother."

Frodo stared at his friend, compassion piercing him deeply. How many lives had been destroyed or forever changed in the long wars against the Darkness? His mind suddenly made up, he turned back to Finrod.

"I will come," he said simply.