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A white horse slowly trotted closer and a man of the
Fair Folk gracefully slid off its back. He eyed the two with curiosity and as
soon as he understood they were sick, he knelt down and ushered them to drink
from his flask. He re-kindled the fire and covered the two with his blanket.
Hours later Gandalf looked at him, almost blinded by
the beauty of the elf. “Who are you?” he whispered, his hand thoughtlessly
reaching out to touch this bright being.
“My name is Glorfindel. May I ask who you are?”
“O-“ he stopped. They were not to reveal their true
identities. Manwe and the other Valar had decided that Middle-Earth was to be
defended by its inhabitants. The Istari were sent only to offer advice and
guidance, not to command or force the people of Middle-Earth into submission.
And who would oppose the words of an Istar? So it had been decided to send them
under cover with false names. Only very few would know about them. Gandalf had
nearly tripped. “My name is Gandalf.”
Glorfindel could not hide his surprise. So this was
one – no, they were two of the Istari? He had been sent to the Grey Havens to
inquire for Elrond about their coming and Cirdan had told him they were on
their way already.
The elf bowed “Mae govannen, Lord Gandalf. This is a
fortunate meeting then. Lord Elrond has send me to escort you to Rivendell as
soon as you arrived. Unfortunately I was late – I beg your pardon, my Lord. I
understand that your companion is the Lord Saruman then?”
Gandalf only waved off. He was too weak and too tired.
“But what made you so sick, my Lords?”
“I don’t know. Probably the food?” Gandalf shivered
with fever.
Glorfindel looked around and picked up a red-and-golden
fruit “Did you eat THIS?”
“Why, yes.”
“But this is Honey-Poison! Only few beasts can eat it.
Did nobody tell you what is edible?” Glorfindel was partly amused and
concerned. This was not quite the wise, cunning Maia he had expected to meet.
“Nobody told us anything, my fair elf.” Gandalf retorted.
+++
Two days later Glorfindel decided the two Istari had
recovered enough to continue their travels. He helped them climb the backs of
the two spare horses he had with him and spent the better part of the next days
teaching the two fellows how to ride. If it could be called riding. At least he
told them how to stay on the horses.
Still a swift journey was far from what they
accomplished and their behinds were soon sore. It all went frustratingly slow
and the three of them found themselves in a state of utter frustration, even if
the reasons were all different.
Glorfindel had expected the Istari to arrive in full
power and knowledge. To find them almost incapable of keeping themselves alive,
ignorant of the simplest things (he had to explain to them even how to properly
shit behind a bush and wipe off their rear ends!) made him wonder how they
should ever be of any help.
Saruman was frustrated because he proved to be such a
slow learner. He had expected things to come to him quite as easily as they
always had. Now he found that even such a primitive act like SITTING on a horse was a difficult task. And painful, too!
He felt ashamed and humiliated to admit his limitations to a stranger who so
easily did all those things he had no clue about. He did not like this
Glorfindel.
Gandalf marveled at all things around him and it
bothered him to the degree of anger that he was constantly ushered to go on.
Why could he not talk to that bird? And why did his horse constantly complain
about him? Did he not try hard to make it right? He wanted to learn but could
not. Glorfindel was in some hurry.
…
By the time they reached Rivendell, Gandalf and
Saruman knew how to ride a horse! They were so fed up with the horses, riding,
Glorfindel, each other and sleeping on hard, lumpy ground in the rain they were
glad to get two separate rooms.
TBC...
