At the borders of Valinor, in the halls of Manwe on
the peak of Mt.Taniquetil the
nearly ageless spiritual beings called Maiar pursued their innocent pastimes.
They surfed the wind and fooled around in clouds that scratched along the
highest peak of Arda.
Olorin, who was not the most powerful of the beings,
but by Manwe was considered being the wisest, had retreated to the western side of
the mountain, constricting his bodiless spiritual existence to a degree of
almost- perceptibility. It was the only way to have no connection whatsoever
with his fellow Istari. How could a borderless consciousness NOT be in contact
with others of the same kind? Yet Olorin had found a way.
“Olorin?” Curumo let his awareness scan his surroundings. “Olorin! What are you doing?”
A sensation of happiness swelled in Olorin at the
gentle chiding call of his dearest friend Curumo. With a tiny flicker of will
his self expanded, meeting with his kindred, uniting with them as they were
supposed to. Bewilderment welcomed him. His fellow Istari were always deeply disturbed
by his withdrawal and unannounced returns into their community. After a short
moment of surprise the others rejoiced in surfing the wind again.
“Curumo.” Olorin greeted his friend warmly.
“Did you hear?”
“What?”
“Manwe seeks volunteers to be send down to Arda. They
shall help the people of Arda to fight the Fallen One.”
“The Fallen One!” Olorin shied back at the idea.
“Yes. They will be given bodies.” Curumo added
conspiratorially.
“Eeww.”
“No mortal bodies. Supposedly like the Fair Ones,
immortal.”
“Humph........Curumo, what are you up to?”
“Let us volunteer, Olorin!”
“What? No!”
“Olorin, imagine: bodies!”
“Discharge, Curumo. Hurt, wounds, hunger. Arda’s
children suffer constantly. Why would you want that?” Olorin could not
understand.
“Because they can do what we will never be able to.”
Olorin laughed out loud. Now, that was a joke! “What
would that be? What would be worth all the drag such a fleshly existence brings
along?”
“Sex.” Curumo whispered.
“What’s that: seks?”
“Sex. It is.......two beings getting together, being
one. Just you and me, Olorin.”
“We are ONE, Curumo. All the time.” Olorin reminded
his friend.
“Yes. Along with all those other simpletons.” Curumo
said deprecatingly.
A wave of irritation from the others washed over them.
Olorin laughed out loud “Now, who is the simpleton here?”
“Privacy, Olorin. And Sex. Sex must be the greatest
thing. Greater than anything else.”
“Even greater than surfing a down-wind?”
“I guess. Come, I’ll show you.” Curumo stretched his
consciousness downwards to the planes of Arda, Olorin following alongside,
their beings coupled as tightly as they could. It was wonderful to be joined
like this, Olorin always reeled in happiness when they did it. When their
thoughts mingled until they were one, the ecstasy Olorin felt was the best he
could imagine.
They visited some Elves who were busy with some kind
of dance or wrestling. The mental state of the two partners was that of extreme
arousal and bliss and when their action suddenly stilled and ceased, the wave
of ecstasy that washed over the two invisible watchers left Olorin shaken.
Quietly he retreated to the safe heights of Taniquetil.
“Now?” Curumo asked.
“That was......even watching was incredible. I never
felt anything the like, dearest friend.” Olorin was still trying to cope with
the intensity of emotion he had felt.
“Imagine, Olorin, we could have THAT! Oh, beloved, let
us go! Let us feel this! Just you and me.” Curumo tried to usher Olorin,
entwining with his friend until Olorin could hardly think straight any more.
“Yes! Yes, let us go. Come! Let’s talk to Manwe.”
++++
Year III, 1000:
Complete deprivation.
For the first time in his ageless existence Olorin
experienced what being ALONE truly meant. Manwe had just poured Olorin’s
spiritual existence into the body he had chosen for him and when the process
was complete, Olorin was alone.
There was no other mind within reach. No matter how he
tried to expand in search of his fellow Istari, he could not reach them; in
fact it seemed that he could not EXPAND at all. Not further than to the tips of
his fingers or toes.
Combined with this utterly frightening deprivation,
Olorin on the other hand suffered a complete sensory overload. Deafening noise
branded against his ears, bright light blinded his eyes and his skin itched and
tingled and hurt in various places.
Eventually he stood. He was dressed in gray robes and
they were the reason for most of the uncomfortable sensations his skin relayed
to his brain.
Olorin took them off. Only to put them on again immediately
because the wind was so cold, he nearly froze on the spot!
“Curumo?” he called tentatively. His body’s voice
seemed to thunder.
“Curumo has arrived two days ago.” A voice said from
behind. “His name here is Saruman.”
Olorin nearly jumped back out of his new skin, so
scared was he at the sudden assault of his ears. Spoken thoughts! What an
outrageous idea! He turned around to face the speaker.
The man was one of the Fair Folk, that much was clear.
A wave of sympathy and love washed over Olorin, flushing his skin. So many
distracting sensations… “Who are you?”
“I am Cirdan. I am the shipmaker of my people. Welcome
in Arda, Olorin of the Istari.” Cirdan bowed deeply “Your name is to be
Gandalf. I was asked to tell you so.”
“Where can I find Curumo – Sa … Saruman?” Gandalf was
desperate for his friend’s company. He was scared, alone as he was.
“I don’t know. He went this way,” Cirdan pointed
south-eastwards “He was very lost in thought. If you hurry you may reach him
soon.”
So Gandalf set off immediately.
“Wait! You can’t leave without anything to eat.”
Cirdan stopped the Istar and handed him a bedroll to hang across his shoulder
which too contained food and cinder. Equipped like that Gandalf was finally
allowed to set off.
It was a wondrous journey! Gandalf knew most creatures
of Arda from view, had watched them often. To actually travel AMONG them was
entirely different. When he stood on a hill, letting his gaze sweep across the
seemingly endless planes of Arda, a butterfly
landed on Gandalf’s hand. The Istar was so shocked at the sudden
physical contact – in fact the very first with another living being - that he yelped loud and jumped backwards,
tripping over a root and rolling down the hill he had just climbed.
When he came to a halt, Gandalf did not move. He was
hurting in various parts of his body. Pain was another new thing to experience.
He just lay there and cursed in every language he knew. For a second he
considered calling Manwe and telling him to end this silly trip right here and
now. Which was – of course not possible. His connection to Manwe had gone along with
his connection to his fellow spiritual friends. There was no way to cancel this
field trip.
With a sigh Gandalf sat up and finally stood. “Ow!” he
had a sprained ankle and limped back up the hill. This was slowing him down
enormously and by nightfall he had not come much farther.
It was cold!
Fire. Right, he needed a fire. Gandalf went and
collected dead wood. By the time he had finished he was far too unnerved to
bother with the silly tinderbox. Instead he thrust his staff into the the wood
and called out “Naur!”
The flames licked hungrily along the wood and soon
Gandalf had a warm fire going. //at least.// the wizard sat down and warmed his
stiff fingers.
“Olorin?” a bodiless voice came out of the dark. It
was a voice so deep and rich, it send shivers down Gandalf’s spine (who thought
it was caused by the cold).
“Who is it? Who knows my name?” Gandalf stood and
stared into the dark. Steps and then a very tall figure in white appeared in
the firelight. Long white hair, long white beard, white robes and glowing eyes. An
OLD MAN!
“It’s me. Curumo.”
“Oh!” Gandalf immediately tried to link his mind with
Curumo – to no avail. Instead he stepped forward to - //to what? Touch!// to touch Curumo. Their
embrace was electrifying, for both it was the very first intense contact with
another body and they parted immediately again, staring at each other with
shock and surprise. Millions of nerves rioting, relaying the new sensation to a
mind that was not really prepared for this.
Gandalf categorized the sensation and then reached out
again, wanting to touch his friend, wanting to end his painfully torturing
solitude. Saruman gasped when soft fingertips gently slithered across the
planes of his cheek, feeling soft skin, tiny wrinkles and coarse beard. His
happiness found a physical resemblance and a smile spread across Gandalf’s
face.
“Oh, my dearest friend…” Gandalf whispered, shaken by
the new experience. He was actually FEELING his beloved in a way he had never
thought possible. “You are beautiful!” the Istar said with honest admiration.
He had always loved all inhabitants of Middle Earth and how could his beloved
not be beautiful to behold?
“I’m cold.” Saruman complained.
“Oh, come here! Sit down here. I – I can warm you.” Gandalf
embraced Saruman who was slowly getting warmed by the fire.
“I couldn’t start a fire. I was freezing and decided
to go back and ask Cirdan for advice. Thank Manwe that I found you!”
“I’m here now. We’re together, everything will be
fine, beloved.” Gandalf soothed his friend.
He couldn’t sit still, he was feeling full and
uncomfortable and the sensation grew worse the longer it lasted.
“What is it?”
“I … I don’t know. My body…”
“Have you discharged?”
“What?”
“You haven’t. There’s – you’ve got a nozzle down
between your legs. Open your robes, Olorin. There –“ Saruman pointed at
Gandalf’s flaccid penis “aim away from us and relax your muscles.”
Gandalf fingered the strange body-part. It looked like
a tiny copy of an Oliphaunt’s nose. He pulled back the abundant loose skin to
reveal something like a small mouth
that suddenly released a fountain of liquid. “Whoa!” he straightened and jerked
his hand away, spattering his boots with
the liquid. Saruman laughed a bit.
“You must hold it and aim away or you will soil
yourself!”
“Aha.” After it was done, Gandalf felt much better. He
rearranged his robes and sat down at his friend’s side. The warming fire
relaxed both enough to let them feel how tired they truly were. They somehow
knew they needed to sleep, but even that was a new concept for both of them.
In the end they decided to lay down in each other’s
arms because that seemed to give them a sense of safety and togetherness. It
took a while until they had found a comfortable position where neither hair tickled
noses nor bone bore into flesh. By that time they were both drowsy with sleep
and soon drifted off into an unknown state of oblivion.
TBC...
