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Istari Love
Disclaimer: this installment is for the sole purpose of entertainment both the author and the readers.
I do not intent to make money of it, so please don't sue me.
All characters unless noted otherwise are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien.
Pairing: Gandalf/Saruman, Glorfindel/Erestor, Glorfindel-Gandalf-friendship
Beta-read by Cara, all remaining mistakes are intended and for the amusement of the valued reader.
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What Gandalf encountered in Erestor’s mind was difficult to bear. Pain, a multitude of pain and splotches of blackness – erased memories where Sauron had caused damage beyond Elrond’s abilities to heal. Erestor’s mind was like a colorful canvas sprayed with acid: all across the weaving were parts that were blurred as if somebody had been able to wipe off the agent before it managed to eat all the way through the fabric, in other places there were naught but gaping holes.
He had not known the damage had gone so deep beyond the physical! Old guilt welled up anew in the Istar and he talked to Elrond about Erestor’s state before he ventured to discuss his idea with Saruman:
"Lord Elrond told me that it is beyond his powers to help Erestor heal any further." The Grey Wizard ventured one evening in their common chamber, thoughtfully sucking at his pipe.
"Aye. Erestor needs to heal from within...." Saruman nodded slowly.
"But for that to happen he'd need to be fond of himself, be happy and accepting of who he is! How shall he? People reject him and he almost despises himself. Thus he cannot heal. That is a vicious circle, Saruman!" Gandalf was exasperated.
"It is. So what?"
“I would like to try and help him. I owe him as much, as you know.” Gandalf said compassionately.
"You suffered for it a long time ago, my dear." Saruman said with slight condescence in his voice.
"Repentance has not changed what I had done. This is still my responsibility." Gandalf said firmly
"Nay. 'Tis not. you must learn to keep your distance."
"How can I be distant to what I have caused? I feel the obligation to help – especially now that I have glimpsed the true extent of the damage done. His mind will never heal, no matter what I will do."
"That is not why you are here." Saruman reminded Gandalf.
"Pray, tell: Why, then, am I here?" not that he did not know, but Gandalf wanted reassurance.
"WE are here to ultimately destroy Sauron and his makings." Saruman answered calmly.
"For the sake of the free people." Gandalf concluded.
"For the sake of the cause. Because the Valar want us to."
"That is not how I understand it. I was sent to help the free people to overturn Sauron for the sake of their freedom."
"I beg to differ, my dear. The people have nothing to do with the cause. They are mere tools to achieve the final goal." Saruman said coldly.
Gandalf sat up "What about pity?"
"Tsk! Nonsense."
“Nonsense?” Gandalf’s eyebrows arched up, his breath caught in his throat, feeling shocked.
“Pity, Olorin, pity is but an excuse for weakness. Such as yours when you once kept that elf alive because you were too weak to stand by and watch. As you well know you should have done.” Saruman’s voice was schoolmasterly. Gandalf rose from his seat and started to pace the room, upset with his partner’s behaviour.
"How can you be so aloof? What good is all your knowledge and wisdom when it is doled out without a spark of compassion? Please, my love, I BEG you to help me in this one case. I owe Erestor as much. PLEASE!"
"I shall not. You need more distance! Stop investigating those folks and focus on the one important matter, Olorin!"
"Please, Curumo, I need you to help me in this matter." Gandalf’s fingers clawed at Saruman’s robe, feeling desperate for being unable to elicit the slightest bit of pity in his lover and companion.
Saruman, seeing the need in his beloved's eyes found himself unable to resist the plea. He stood and pulled Gandalf into his embrace. "So I shall help you. For your sake, not for Erestor’s. Solely because you seem so troubled by that incident. I hope that will give you peace then."
"Thank you!" Gandalf was genuinely grateful, although a small nagging voice in his head told him that Saruman's idea of their mission was very different from his.
“We will need blood that is freely given.” Saruman informed Gandalf curtly.
“I may know how to obtain that. In fact I am rather optimistic.” Gandalf nodded eagerly, relived that he had succeeded with his plan. He would help Erestor! He would try to make up for his earlier failure.
"Now that this is settled I should ensure that you know how to wield your magic wand properly." Saruman grinned mischievously.
“How can you doubt that?” Gandalf retorted with mock indignation, untying the belt that held his robe, revealing an aged body that was still rather trim and fit from the long travels and regular exercise in sword-fighting.
“I heard it is always a good idea to scrutinize anything. Hmmm…..impressive, my dear.”
“Not half as beautiful as you are. I want to try something new tonight.” Gandalf’s hands caressed his lover’s body, peeling off the thin shirt Saruman usually wore by night.
“Why is it always that you have something new to try when you meet with that infamous Glorfindel?” Saruman asked with mild jealousy.
“Because he is a exceptional teacher in the fields in which we lack much experience. Turn around, my beloved bookworm!”
Saruman complied gladly and before long he learned what incredible things a tongue could do when used with great eagerness. They always tried to prolong the act because it gave them a sense of unison that culminated in that fraction of a moment’s encounter of their souls.
Much to their dismay the afterglow always turned out to be a frustrating moment of the renewed realization of their irreversible isolation. The cold gush of a sobering rainfall that cruelly pulled them back to reality where every soul was cursed to be singular and lonely.
Yet the two Istari could not and would not stop making love. Both had decided for themselves that these moments of ecstatic togetherness were what made their carnal existence bearable for them. Without they would have gone insane within a few years after their arrival.
They fell asleep, tightly wrapped up in each other’s embrace, their minds listening to the dwindling echo of their recent union before drifting away to dreams of Taniquetil and the happy days at Valinor.
~~~
The next morning Gandalf sought out Glorfindel, telling the reborn Elda that he had found a way to help Erestor heal.
“But it requires that a friend would donate some blood. Erestor – well, he seems not to have any thus far and – errrrm – I wanted to ask you –“
“You want me to donate.” Glorfindel ended Gandalf’s request with a sure voice.
“Well, aye. Since you were interested in his history I thought you might well be willing to, well, to acquaint him, make friends with him?” Gandalf looked hopefully.
“I will try. Though it is not easy. He is almost completely unapproachable and what little progress I have made thus far I have ruined few weeks ago when drunk.” Glorfindel sighed.
“It is very strong magic, do you understand?” Gandalf asked seriously.
“Aye. I do. If it helps him then I will do so.”
Gandalf was pleased with Glorfindel’s willingness. It showed that the elf was honestly concerned about Erestor’s well-being. “And in addition, since it will be your blood worked into the spell, it will only work when you yourself apply the ointment. It will not help to simply hand it over to Erestor. Your continuous participation is requested.”
Glorfindel nodded. “I will try to make him trust me that far, although I cannot say if he ever will.”
“We’ll see, my friend, we’ll see.” Gandalf offered a small bowl and Glorfindel cut his wrist to let some drops of his blood fall into the vessel. Seven drops, then Gandalf withdrew the bowl, thanked Glorfindel and told him to wait.
~~~
“Ah, do you have it?” Saruman had already everything prepared.
“Aye. He was more than willing.”
“Well, else it would not work.” Saruman took the bowl and stirred the blood into the salve they had prepared earlier. Gandalf felt almost bad. It was a great hocus-pocus. The blood would do nothing but add a bit of color to the ordinary healing-salve. It would be Glorfindel’s own will and mind that would work the real magic, that would or would not help Erestor to finally heal and recover. Yet it was imperative that Glorfindel believed in the trick.
It would ease Erestor’s life if the two elves became friends and it would work true magic if the friendship become even more.
TBC...
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