Sanctuary of Arda

Year 2063 of the Third Age, Middle-Earth, Arda

I pulled back on the bow and released the arrow; the bow sang as the arrow was released and embedded itself in the centre of the target. This was no ordinary target, however. As it swung on a pendulum axis, it gave me the degree of difficulty in not only finding the mark, but also to practise the timing of its delivery. The elf archers that were present in Imladris, already swore by the training device that I had conjured, and they used it extensively. The device itself was mounted in the large courtyard and should any arrow miss the mark for some reason it would safely fall into the pool of the waterfall many feet below.

"Impressive," said a voice that I had not heard in slightly less than a century. I turned and smiled.

"Gandalf." I greeted my only close friend among the five wizards with a brief hug. Radagast I also liked, mainly due to the wizard's skill with animals and beasts, he reminded me a lot of Hagrid. But Radagast kept himself aloof as he worked his magic and duties and only corresponded in letters with me.

"And how are you my friend?" said Gandalf, sitting with a huff on a nearby chair and using his gnarled staff to help.

"Well, thank you, and you?" I asked, putting my bow down and taking a seat next to the grey bearded wizard.

"I am well," said Gandalf, "and I have travelled many a league through the West, helping where I can."

"Verily," I laughed, "I hear many names given to you, and your deeds do reach my ears, as no doubt, mine reaches yours. Mithrandir the men of Gondor call you, the Grey Pilgrim they call you in Rohan."

"As the Ents say Harold, your name is the story of your deeds, I tolerate the names," sighed Gandalf, "and speaking of deeds, the Men of Arnor owes you a debt that never can be truly repaid."

"I seek no material reward beyond when the time comes to call upon their aid in times of strife," I said.

"Very noble, Harold," said Gandalf, "and deeds are the reason why I am here: Dol Goldur." I frowned for a moment in puzzlement at what the old wizard was getting at.

"You want to travel there?" I asked curiously.

"Yes," nodded Gandalf, "you remember three years ago that the Wise feared that Sauron might finally be taking shape again?"

"Of course," I replied, the correspondence between the Chief Eldar and the wizards I kept fresh in my mind always.

"I want to see if indeed it is Sauron, and I would ask that you enchant a travelling spell for me through your arts, you are the only one of us that have been there," said Gandalf. I did not answer for a while mulling over the request.

"I do not question your proficiency Gandalf but are you sure it is wise, you might encounter Sauron personally in that fortress," I finally said with worry evident in my voice.

"There is that danger," said Gandalf, "but this must be done."

"Very well," I agreed reluctantly, "you will want to appear on the battlements, the gate will obviously be shut and breaking it down with a spell will rather ruin any elements of stealth you want to keep."

I bid Gandalf to remain there for a moment as I quickly went up to my quarters and enchanted a silver plated necklace with a small phoenix pendant that hung from it.

"Thank you Harold," said Gandalf, accepting the device.

"My pleasure," I said "if you want to use it hold the pendant in your hand and speak the word 'nymph', when you want to return to Imladris simply use the word 'tonks'. It's permanently enchanted so you can use it as many times as you want."

"Truly an amazing art," said Gandalf distractedly as he stared at the Portkey.

"I should just point out that it is not a comfortable means of journey, however brief, expect to lose your balance when you arrive, even I can not arrive flawlessly by using a device such as this," I said with a chuckle.

"What other arts of travel does your realm possess?" asked Gandalf curiously.

"If you refer to magical means of travel then we also have what we call Floo, all the chimney places in my realm are connected magically to each other through the element of fire, using it a wizard can cross great distances in mere moments. Personally I dislike it the most, as when you are in transit it feels like you are spinning at great speed and your clothes get full of dust and ash, and you can't eat a meal before the time unless you want to throw it back up," I said with a faint smile. Gandalf for his part looked rather amused.

"I trust I won't heave my meal if I use the device?" asked Gandalf, mirth twinkling in his eyes.

"No," I laughed, "you only get the physical sensation of a invisible hook pulling you irresistibly forward at the navel, and the swirling colours around you are quite beautiful in fact, but the device operates in moments so you don't have long to take a look around."

I spent a long afternoon talking with Gandalf after that, catching up on any new developments and news that the old wizard was forthcoming with. He spoke of his travels and the tales of his meetings with the Periannath or Hobbits as they called themselves. I knew that during the Great Plague that Gandalf had gone to their aid, but I myself had never seen a hobbit before. I made a mental note to rectify that problem.

"When will you be leaving?" I asked.

"I want to take a few days rest here before going to Dol Goldur," replied Gandalf. The old wizard frowned for a moment as if considering something and then in a hesitant voice: "I also wonder if I could finally meet your mentor? You mentioned that you somehow still had access to him here. I would like to seek his counsel on a matter."

"Ah," I responded and considered the request, "what matter is this?"

"The One Ring, I would like his input or any insights he could offer in our quest for the destruction of Sauron," said Gandalf.

"Is there a reason for your sudden concern about the Ring?" I asked with a frown.

"Yes, but I would please explain it to you and your mentor," replied Gandalf.

"Very well," I nodded and beckoned Gandalf to follow me.

We passed into the guest quarters of the household and walked into my home. Enebaiel was not here, as she was at the House of Healing giving instruction to apprentices. The small lounge before the bedroom had a warm pleasing Gryffindor red and gold motif and a fireplace. I invited Gandalf to sit in one of the plush armchairs as I headed into the bedroom and fetched the runic stone basin that was the Pensive. I gingerly placed it on a small table in front the fireplace. Gandalf leaned over and glanced at the swirling silvery substance that glowed ethereally.

"This is a Pensive, a basin that contains the magical essence of thought and memories, before I left for this realm my mentor enchanted this to help me learn, it is also further unique that it also contains the avatar of my mentor, and I am able to relate to him as if he were with me," I explained. I reached into the folds of my white-blue elf robes and pulled out my wand and stirred the silvery essence for a few times.

"How I wish I had brought my wand with me to Middle-Earth," said Gandalf, "so much more precise than a staff."

"But lazy," I chided. Gandalf smirked.

"What now?"

"Give me your hand," I instructed and grabbed the proffered hand of Gandalf in a strong grip and touched my nose to the essence of the Pensive. With a jerk the world dissolved around us to a dark black fog and we both experienced the sensation of being flipped head over heels. We regained our footing after a few moments as the world around us resolved to the library I knew so well. Gandalf had to shake his head a bit to regain balance and his eyes took in the new surroundings. I waited for a while to let Gandalf settle himself and that was when the old wizard spied the still figure of Albus sitting in his armchair.

I gave a flick of my wand and the memory Dumbledore came to life and the world of the library suddenly felt alive.

"Ah Harry," said Albus, "how long?"

"Just a week," I answered. Albus was referring to the measures we had devised to protect the contents of the Pensive. It had remained active for well over a thousand five hundred years and with it standing in an overtly magical realm as Imladris, its inherent magic was becoming way too strong to remain contained in the Pensive. It would probably get to the point where I would have to fashion a brand new basin for the essence to be contained safely. A stop gap measure I had devised was to freeze the thoughts in the Pensive when I was not using it or when Albus had nothing to work on or research.

"You brought a visitor," said Albus twinkling at the frowning gaze of Gandalf.

"Yes, he wished to speak with both of us, but where are my manners," I said genially, "Gandalf, this is Albus Dumbledore, Albus meet Gandalf the Grey." The two ancient looking wizards shook hands briefly and with a gesture Albus conjured comfy armchairs to appear for them.

"It is truly a pleasure to meet the mentor of such a wizard as Harold the Black," said Gandalf.

"The pleasure is mine, dear wizard, Harold has spoken quite highly of you as well, I am sad that we did not get to meet sooner," said Albus. Gandalf nodded. "While I am sure we would enjoy idle conversation, let's get to the matter at hand first."

"Very well," said Gandalf with a sigh, "how much do you know?"

"I know all that Harold knows," said Albus.

"Good, my heart has been troubled of late," said Gandalf, "that we have reached the edge of a precipice. I am also concerned about the heightened activity of the enemy. He is showing himself to no one and only the minds of the Wise can perceive his malice driving his slaves forward."

"Once again all these machinations you speak of must be linked towards the One," said Albus.

"But the One Ring was lost down the Anduin, it might have passed beyond into the Sea," I said.

"Not necessarily Harold," said Albus, "the One Ring I believe would need to remain in Middle-Earth for Sauron to be regaining strength. If it had passed beyond, Sauron would have remained a mere malice of shadow gnawing itself in the dark and his Nazgul would not have found the strength to come forth."

"So his ultimate obvious goal would be to regain it," murmured Gandalf, "since Sauron endowed it with the best and strongest part of himself."

"Indeed," nodded Albus, "but I have long theorized about the One Ring and given thought to how it may be destroyed and what energies drive the Ring."

"Why would you want to know that?" asked Gandalf with a suspicious glint in his eyes.

"There is an age old saying in the realm I come from Gandalf: Keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer. Is it not prudent that we know all the devices and powers of the enemy, thus we may devise the where he is weak and in what he is strong," explained Albus.

"And what are your conclusions?" asked Gandalf with a sigh, conceding the point.

"My conclusion is simple, that if Sauron endowed the One with the best part of himself, then it would be logical to conclude that the Ring is sentient to the degree that Sauron is. The Ring will influence things around it, so that it could be found again. We do not have to search for it, the Ring will come forth of its own accord, when it perceives it's time has come. It could be the very reason Sauron and his Nazgul are instigating all these minor conflicts that is waning the strength of all his foe's," answered Albus

"A very simple theory Dumbledore, yet brilliant," said Gandalf, "why did I not think of this?"

"It is my experience that if you are too close to a problem then you can no longer perceive it for it what simply is," said Albus with a grin and a twinkle in his eye.

*****

I emerged from the Pensive with Gandalf and by the look of the light outside we must have spent over four hours with Albus. The sun outside was setting and the sky was awash with red as the twilight hours neared.

"You truly have a fascinating mentor my dear Harold," grinned Gandalf, "I can now truly see his teachings in you as you wield your power and mind."

I was about to reply when the beautiful sight of my wife entered the room with a smile on her face that would have inspired a painting.

"Gandalf," she greeted with a slight bow of her head.

"Lady Enebaiel, a pleasure to see you again," smiled the elder wizard. I linked hands with her and her eyes gazed at me with a look that I knew all too well.

"What brings you to Imladris this day?" she asked.

"Counsel from your husband's mentor I required," said Gandalf, "and its counsel that has redirected me back on my path and for that I am supremely grateful."

"Albus has the gift of rather being a moral and philosophical compass," said Enebaiel, "he's not infallible but he's correct more often than not."

"Truer words were never spoken," said Gandalf, "but look at the time, its best that I be on my way to some rest. Goodnight."

"Goodnight old friend," I replied as Gandalf walked out of the quarters, shutting the door to the hallway behind him.

"You were saying my love," I chuckled. She did not respond but placed a gentle hand on my chest and lightly pushed me towards the bedroom. I saw her eyes were darkened with desire and she smirked.

"I was saying that those apprentices are driving me nuts," said Enebaiel.

"My dear," I gasped in feigned shock, "since when do you use the vocabulary of my realm."

"I'll use it when I have rather little patience for trivialities," she replied, "and I greatly desire you." She said this last statement with such fervour and seduction that I found myself getting aroused already. I was most definitely going to need to ward the room for sound.

Year 2509 of the Third Age, Middle-Earth, Arda

"You called Ada?" I asked. Elrond was seated in the Hall of Fire staring into the single flame in the middle of the room with a troubled look in his eyes. That in itself was unusual for the powerful Chief Eldar and immediately caused me some worry. I could sense in the air around my adoptive father that there was much tension in him.

"Yes I did Istar-ion," replied Elrond solemnly.

"Is something the matter Ada?" I let my concern flow through my voice. For a while Elrond stared into space and said nothing but eventually he answered.

"Your Naneth, has prevailed upon me to accede to her a journey to Lorien, she longs to visit her kin again," said Elrond. If I was worried before, nothing compared to what I was now feeling.

"That is troubling," I replied, "the journey would be unnecessarily long during this time of year as the High Pass is frozen closed. The next logical route through the Misty Mountains would be the Redhorn Pass, and after that the Gap of Rohan. Travelling problems aside Ada, you know of my recent scouting of the Misty Mountains."

"The 'secret' Orc dens you sensed," nodded Elrond.

"Correct, I have no doubt that any party trying to cross the Mountains would be subjected to some kind of harassment or attack from orcs. The Gap of Rohan would be far safer in that regard, as the Rohirrim slay any orcs that dare venture into their land," I explained and with some distaste I added: "and Saruman the White is now resident in Isengard, his sphere of influence allows no orc to come near the Gap."

"Could you not enchant a device that would allow her to travel to Lorien safely?" asked Elrond with undisguised hope flowing in his voice.

"I can," I grimaced, "but Ada you of all people know what Celebrian would say to that."

Elrond stood restlessly and walked towards to pedestal that held the fire aloft and rested both his arms against it. I could clearly see his eyes were glaring daggers at the tongues of flame that were dancing in front of him.

"She would say no," grumbled Elrond.

"Ada, have you Seen something?" I asked in a tentative voice.

"Yes," replied the Chief Eldar, "I have seen a future that my beloved will depart over the Sea before the end of next year."

"WHAT?" I asked in alarm and stood clutching my Phoenix staff reflexively.

"I wish it were not so, but it is the truth," replied Elrond in a voice of sorrow.

"What is it with the bloody stubbornness in all the females of my life?!" I asked rhetorically in a voice barely below an angry roar. I could no longer repress my mood and started pacing.

"Truly," agreed Elrond weakly.

"I'll stun, bind and transfigure her if I have to, if that would get her to take a Portkey trip to Lorien!" I declared.

"I wish you luck and good health when you revive her," said Elrond dryly.

"It is better that she is angry with me than dying in a boat sailing into the West!" I snarled hitting my staff into ground causing a resounding boom to shake the earth beneath the house.

"Calm yourself Istar-ion," instructed Elrond. I took a few deep breaths regaining control over the power within me.

"I have lost enough loved ones in my native realm, and it will not happen here as well," I stated with conviction and power radiating from me. There was not much more to be said between us and I stormed out of the Hall of Fire. My staff echoing around the hallways as it tapped on the floor. The Elves who saw me hurriedly backed out of the way their eyes wide in awe and even a little fear. I did not blame them I suppose; I must have looked a fright. My destination was the library. I burst through the doors and spied Elladan and Elohir sitting opposite Celebrian, all were buried in books as they were clearly looking for something. This did not faze me in the slightest, nor give me pause for taking my next actions. All three's heads snapped up in my entrance and my adopted family gazed at me in concern.

I raised my staff and sent a jet of red light at Celebrian that caused her to slump into sleep. The Twins reacted and Elladan flung his dagger at me, while Elohir had drawn his sword and was advancing towards me. The dagger rebounded harmlessly off my shield charm while I threw a disarming charm at Elohir that threw his sword away and sent him sprawling into a bookshelf. Elladan had also drawn his sword and started to attack as well but a simple stunning spell sent him crashing to the floor.

I whirled and slashed my staff upwards which caused the few Elves who had heard the commotion and wanted to intervene to fly backwards. I threw a complex shutting spell on the doors to the library. Grumbling angry words under my breath at my Naneth's stubbornness I lifted her sleeping form easily by placing my arm around her waist and flinging her left arm around the back of my neck.

I closed my eyes and concentrated for a few moments, and with a pop, of displaced air I apparated myself and Celebrian smack into the hall of Caras Galadhorn, just before the seats of Celeborn and Galadriel.

Our sudden appearance caused a few of the guards to draw swords but they sheathed them again when they saw who it was. I looked forward and saw that only Galadriel was seated and Celeborn was nowhere in sight.

I slowly lowered my adopted mother to the floor and conjured a pillow for her head, this would take some explaining.

"Greetings Daer-Naneth," I bowed my head slightly, in respect for Galadriel. The Lady of the Wood for her part wore a confused frown and the sight of her unconscious daughter was more than worrying.

"I pray you have good reason for dropping in so unexpected," said Galadriel.

"Yes I do," I replied, "my Naneth was determined to travel to Lorien in a few days time and had convinced Elrond to the idea. I have merely acceded to her desires." Galadriel sighed and knew her daughter would have wanted to travel the old fashioned way, to her it was the journey that was important not the destination.

"And your means to achieve this seems rather rash," said Galadriel. I related the news of my scouting of the Misty Mountains in response to this. "Most worrying, Sauron is clearly trying to isolate parts of Middle-Earth from each other, using the Misty Mountains as his shield from the West," said Galadriel.

"Yes," I replied and with a light touch of my staff to her head I ended the sleeping spell on Celebrian. She took a while to properly awake but eventually her eyes snapped open and quickly assessed her surroundings. Celebrian stood slowly and greeted her mother with a hug murmuring words to each other. She then turned around and regarded me impassively. I stood resolutely my staff clutched in my right hand and raised a defiant chin.

"ISTAR-ION!" burst out Celebrian in anger. It turns out my Naneth has an impressive temper when properly inspired, which I just did.

"Be angry at me all you want Naneth," I invited, "but I am not sorry for the outcome of my actions, I am sorry for the means though."

"What did you do to the Twins?! They would surely have not stood by while you cursed me!" roared Celebrian. Galadriel was now wearing a look of amusement at her uppity daughter's temper.

"I did not curse you!" I countered hotly, "I enchanted you to sleep. And the Twins will merely have a few bumps and bruises, nothing my wife can't fix up in a trice. Did you not listen to Ada when he told you of my discovery of the Orc dens in the Misty Mountains?!"

"A risk we all take!" roared Celebrian.

"A risk you are totally disregarding for some reason," I shouted, "you can clearly wait the six months it would take for the High Pass to become accessible again, it is the only pass that can be relatively secured for your journey. But there is no dire need for this journey!"

"Yes, but thanks to you there is no journey now, is there?" she sniped back.

"I will most surely regret saying this, but not twenty minutes ago Elrond glimpsed with his Foresight that you would depart over the Sea before next year is done with the malice of death hanging over you," I countered. The shock this caused in all present was clearly evident. I could see Galadriel shed a single tear and look down not wanting anyone to witness her discomfort at hearing those words. My words had clearly taken the winds from my Naneth's sails.

"The future is always in motion, it is not certain," said Celebrian weakly, it had clearly taken a lot out of her to be this angry with me.

"That is true," I replied softly and closed the distance between us. She flung her arms around me and hugged me; I hugged back for all I was worth, staff not withstanding. "But I do not want you take unnecessary risk." I reached into the pockets of my robes and pulled out a Phoenix pendant and placed around her neck. "This is a device that will allow you travel between Imladris and Caras Galadhorn instantaneously. Just hold it in your hands and clearly think of your destination and then speak 'Lend'"

(Travel)

"Thank you son," murmured Celebrian, she sniffed slightly and I cleaned a few tears away from her face with pad of my thumb.

"Daer Naneth, ava le echad he band?" I asked in a wavering voice. (Grandmother will you make sure she stays safe?)

"Do not despair, with your device the perils of journey during these times are removed," said Galadriel, "and if Celebrian respects the gifts of her husband she will heed his Foresight." Celebrian stepped away from me and got a glint in her eye.

"Now you best go back and rectify that mess you left in the library," instructed Celebrian.

"Very well," I sighed and with a moment of thought the world around me shifted as I apparated back into the Library. I had to defend myself in an instant as Elohir swung his sword at me; I ducked underneath the blade and banished the twin so that he flew a few feet through the air. Elohir turned his fall into a roll and tried to rush at me again but with a casual gesture of my staff I petrified him. I immediately thought that I had to address both twins so I revived Elladan and petrified him as well.

It looked quite humorous, both twins were glaring daggers at me with their eyes, but they could not move an inch.

"Now that we can talk peaceably, our mother is at this moment safely in Lorien," I said, and with flick of my finger lifted the locking spell on the doors. Walking calmly through the doors was Elrond who merely looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Rather uncouth your methods are Istar-ion," said Elrond.

"I know and I'm sorry, but Naneth has reluctantly agreed to use a Portkey," I responded, "and she knows of your Foresight."

"Very well," nodded Elrond, "I shall deal with the twins."

"Thank you Ada," I said and bowed my head slightly; "the spell will release them when I close the door behind me."

Year 2740 of the Third Age, Middle-Earth, Arda

It was just past dawn as I encouraged my pure white stallion Hasufel to a gallop as I passed over the Brandywine Bridge. My black robes made for a striking contrast but I could not be worried about stealth at the moment. For time was clearly of the essence in my current endeavour. I was on my way to the Shire, or more specifically Hobbiton, which was still another thirty miles distant. I kept to the road and on the odd occasion saw the odd hobbit tilling the fields or pushing a cart full of produce along the road. I did my best to steer around them.

I knew that most of the Hobbits who saw me would think I was a queer member of the Big Folk. But they would surely see my staff and some who were clever enough would make the link to Gandalf the Grey, and would recognize that I was a wizard. I doubt that there was any memory of my previous passing through the Shire a few hundred years ago, my visit was not enough to earn a place in their songs and literature, which was how they remembered the tale of events past.

I was unfortunately quite sure that I would find myself in that history quite soon.

My speed was swift, and by afternoon I could soon see Hobbiton stretching below me as I crested over the fertile green hills that surrounded the small town. Great trees were dotted everywhere, the grass so green that it almost looked unreal. Yet it also amazed me that the Hobbits could live in so great a number and still maintain a picture of undisturbed nature to the landscape. Hobbits of course live in subterranean dwellings, but they were by no means just holes in the ground, the insides were furbished as richly as you could expect from any House of Man; walls, adornments, furnishings and doors, the only thing lacking was plumbing. I allowed myself a few moments to take in the beauty of the area.

"Ego ammen rinc Hasufel," I murmured softly to my horse, patting the strong stallion on the neck. (Off we go Hasufel) The stallion neighed and surged forward with power. Soon I entered the outskirts of Hobbiton and it was then that I became the object of much curiosity. Hobbits lived uncomplicated peaceful lives, they are pacifist by nature and do not interfere in the affairs of other races, which is just as well, as Hobbits were not suited in stature and strength for open warfare. They were skilled hunters though, and those living by the river had craft to fish, and Gandalf told me that a Hobbit could move in woods and at night as silent as ghosts, due in part to their large padded hairy feet.

A small crowd of Hobbits had by now started to walk behind my trotting horse. I pulled down the hood of my cloak and allowed them to see my face fully. I hoped it would at least convey of my non-hostile intentions. I then spied an elder Hobbit walking along with a cane, and stopped my horse next to him.

"Excuse me Master Hobbit," I prompted. The wizened Hobbit stopped and turned to me, but I was surprised as a flash of recognition settled on the Halfling's face.

"My word," exclaimed the old Hobbit, "I hardly thought I would ever see you again."

"You remember me?" I asked in astonishment.

"Yes," nodded the old Hobbit, "my name is Ferdibrand Hilldweller and I was but a wee lad of nine when you last came through the Shire, Harold the Black."

"It's nice to see that someone remembers me, but I come on urgent business and I must speak with the Mayor," I said with seriousness.

"Yes, you were never one to mince words, unlike Gandalf the Grey," said Ferdibrand, "the Mayor's name is Bandorbras Took and you will undoubtedly find him in the town hall at the moment, organising his sister's birthday party."

"That is unfortunate," I replied, "for there will be no parties in the coming days for the Shire."

"What is the matter?" asked Ferdibrand in a worried tone.

"Prudence says I should speak with the Mayor first Ferdibrand, but the day will come soon when the Shire must pick up sword and bow and defend itself," I said darkly and Hasufel sprung forward to a half gallop. The town hall was not a hall in the sense of the word, but more of a dwelling the resided next to a small open field where a huge tree resided. A raised platform stood at its foot allowing the speaker to address the crowd that would assemble on the field. I stopped Hasufel on the small road next to the dwelling and with a few words of elfish let the horse meander on the field and get a few bites of grass if he so choose.

I walked through the small fence of the dwelling and admired the lush garden for a moment before using the reverse end of my staff to knock on the rounded door.

"Coming!" called a voice. I kneeled to lower my height as I knew Hobbits found the Big Folk to be very intimidating. In my standing position I already stood a few inches over the topmost reaches of the round door, which a Hobbit would have to jump to barely touch. The door opened and a sandy haired hobbit appeared wearing a formal suit of sorts, he had blue eyes and his big feet rather stood out in the whole ensemble.

"Bandorbras Took, Mayor of Hobbiton, I offer you my greetings," I nodded to the surprised Hobbit, "my name is Harold the Black."

"Oh dear," stuttered the Hobbit, "forgive my surprise, it's not everyday a wizard knocks on my door. But please, come in and let me offer what hospitality I can. A wizard never comes but in urgent need or peril it is said."

I stood and had to bend my head to get in the door, and rather embarrassingly I found than even inside the entrance hall of the dwelling, my head just barely touched the highest part of the ceiling. Bandobras showed to the fireplace where a few comfy armchairs stood, there was no way I would be fitting in them, but the Mayor carried a kitchen stool, which would sort that problem out. Once we were both comfortable and had cups of tea in our hands we got down to business so to speak.

"What brings you to Hobbiton Harold the Black?" asked Bandobras.

"I ride four days ahead of a host of Orcs which have surged out of the Misty Mountains, they have caught the Elves and Men unawares and have slipped past the vigilance of Rivendell and Arnor, and they are on a direct path towards the Shire," I said with a sigh, cursing that we had been blind to the threat that was approaching. Bandobras for his part only frowned slightly at this news and his jaw was taut.

"How many in this host and how far away?" asked the Mayor.

"They are three hundred strong and will reach Bree at the end of this day, whether the town will be razed to the ground I do not know," I explained.

"But what is the purpose of this?" asked Bandobras. "I mean, what kind of threat are we to the enemy?"

"Its purpose I believe is two fold, to test your strength and to simply kill all that the move can," I replied. The Mayor rose to his feet in agitation and started to pace, and mutter to himself.

"They have to cross Brandywine Bridge to get to Hobbiton," said Bandobras.

"Are you suggesting you concentrate your defence there?" I asked.

"The greatest portion of it, yes," said the Mayor, "the Brandywine River is very deep and I doubt the Orcs have floats to cross it."

"How many Hobbits can you call to arms?" I asked with a curious frown.

"Any lad from between the ages of twenty five and eighty five can be liable to heed the call to defence, I expect we could easily match the numbers of orcs just from getting all the lads from Hobbiton," explained Bandobras.

"You will need surprise at your side as well," I stated, "and I don't think it would be wise to stand openly in defiance on the bridge."

"Of course we won't," said Bandobras, "we know our own strengths Harold the Black, and we play to them."

"Good," I replied, "and will you lead the defence?"

"Yes, it's the Mayor's duty in such times," replied Bandobras.

"Then I am at your disposal, so to speak," I smiled.

"Oh," said Bandobras his eyebrows shooting up in astonishment and his eyes narrowed in thought, "I suppose it would give the orcs pause to see you just beyond the bridge."

"You want to use me as bait in a trap?" I asked with a chuckle. It clearly seemed that Bandobras suddenly feared me, as he thought I would not like the idea at all. His face paled.

"You can be in the..re..ar," the hobbit stuttered. This only served to amuse me further but I clamped down on it.

"My dear Hobbit, it's a good idea, and I am all for it, in fact I prefer it," I said with the corners of my mouth twitching.

"Oh good," sighed the Mayor with relief, "thought I was going to be turned into some animal."

"Why on earth would I do that?" I scoffed.

"Well Gandalf did a number on a few Trolls that was harassing the Shire a few years back, turned them into bunny rabbits," the Mayor replied. I laughed outright at this story.

"Yes, that's Gandalf, he has the most perverse sense of humour of any wizard I know," I chuckled.

"So anyway, that's that, I figure we must rouse the Shire to the defence," sighed the Mayor and stood to take the cups of tea for washing, "those orcs are getting closer by the hour and no time to waste."

Year 2770 of the Third Age, Middle-Earth, Arda

It was night and I sat solemnly on my mount looking towards the mountain in the distance where the dwarf haven of Dain stood, or rather should I say, once stood. Even from this distance I could hear the roars of that accursed dragon, and now and then a great spout of flame shot out and into the air. Next to me stood Thror looking grimly as his home was destroyed and the dragon claimed the hoard of riches inside. Next to him stood his two sons, Thrain and Thorin, both barely on the cusp of adulthood. The two seemed barely to be containing the tears that were threatening to spill forth.

"I thank you for your aid today Harold the Black," said Thror in a deep rumbling voice, "if not for you many more dwarves would have died."

"No need for thanks Thror," I replied grimly, "lives have still been lost and that is grievous to bear."

"Aye," nodded the chief dwarf.

"I wish I could have come sooner," I sighed, feeling the familiar weight of the burden of lives won and lost on the whims of my choices.

"Smaug the Dragon is devious Harold the Black," said Thrain, "it is almost impossible to deign its next strategy, no more to predict the malice of the enemy that wields him."

"Now I wish I had Charles the Red with me now and a team of his wizards," I sighed.

"Who is this?" asked Thorin in curiosity.

"A wizard from my youth who specializes in the handling of dragons," I replied with a fond smile of nostalgia, "in the realm from which I come, dragons have been hunted to near extinction. He manages and preserves a sanctuary for them, and if necessary kills them if their numbers become too great."

"Hammer and Tongs, why on earth would you want to keep dragons alive?" exclaimed Thorin.

"Many things harvested from a dragon are of use to a wizard Thorin," I replied insistently, "even beyond that, a dragon is a natural being who deserves his place in nature surely as much as you do Thorin. Do not fault all the dragons for the malice that drives them forward to do this madness."

"My sons, please go the encampment, I need to speak to Harold alone," said Thror. Both sons nodded in respect and ambled down the hill to the temporary encampment.

"Is it safe? Do you still have it?" I asked gravely.

"Aye, it's still around my finger," said the elder dwarf, reflexively clutching at the ring underneath his leather glove.

"When is the last time you used it?" I asked.

"I used it briefly when it was passed from my father to me," sighed Thror, "I swore never to do so again."

"You were exposed to him?" I asked gently.

"Aye," whispered the elder dwarf, and for the first time I detected a hint of fear in his voice, "it was horrible, I had used it to bend the earth to my will, so I could mine for riches but I used it too greatly, and unwittingly opened my mind to the enemy. It is but for the quick actions of my father in pulling the ring off my finger that saved me from becoming a maddened slave of Sauron."

"If it is comfort to you Thror," I said, "the Elves have the same problem's you do in the uses of their Rings."

"I have no doubt of that," said the dwarf gruffly.

"You must be increasingly vigilant now," I advised, "Sauron will not let any rings in the hands of his foes remain there if his machinations are to be interpreted."

"I will keep that in mind," nodded Thror. I bid goodbye to the elder dwarf and his people and trotted off into the night, apparating with my horse back to Imladris.

Year 2850 of the Third Age, Middle-Earth, Arda

The dungeons of Dol Goldur could possibly be rated as the vilest place on Middle-Earth, save for the erstwhile prison in the lower levels of Barad-Dur. There was no light, it was pitch dark, and you could wave your hand in front of your face and not see it move. There were no guards, only the occasional orc that would come and bring the prisoners stale bread and half a cup of water.

I was amazed at how effectively this prison achieved the same level of despair in its inmates that the dementor infested Azkaban could. The very air seemed to weigh down on my lungs; it was rotten and stale with smell of death in it.

"Well Gandalf," I sighed, pointing my staff so it could light the way ahead down the corridor of the cells, "you wanted to search the dungeons, here we are." The Grey Pilgrim shone his own staff down the corridor and looked grimly down it, and I saw his eyes calculating our next move.

"I sincerely hope Harold, that I have not led us on a fool's errand," said Gandalf darkly.

"Your suspicions are sound Gandalf," I said, "don't doubt yourself, I'm sure he is here."

"Yes," sighed the grey wizard, "but we must hurry, the master of this fortress will not remain blind to our presence for long."

We walked through the dungeons, meticulously looking through each cell. The only sound to be heard was our muffled footsteps, the rustling of our robes and our breathing; loud and reverberating in our ears. It took almost two hours of searching to find a living person in a cell. It was a man and by the look of his tattered ripped clothing it seemed that he was a Harad. He did not respond to the magical light, his eyes were devoid of life, staring blankly forward. I had to work to keep my lunch down as I saw that the man had barely any fingers left, as he had clawed them away in madness and insanity of being left in this evil place.

Further into the dungeons we finally found the person we had been looking for the past ten years. Thrain the dwarf, son of Thorin, and bearer of the last Dwarf Ring of Power wearily raised his hand to shield his eyes from the light. I dimmed the light coming from my staff to the level that one would expect to see on a full moon, Gandalf followed suite.

With a casual gesture of my staff at the cell door I sent an unlocking spell on it. Gandalf pulled open the door and entered. I stayed outside keeping a lookout to either side of the corridor.

"It is good to see you again Gandalf," wheezed Thrain, "and you Harold."

"I wish this could have been under better circumstances, and we do not have much time," said Gandalf, "but the White Council must know if you still have possession of the last Ring?"

"No, it was taken," said Thrain and coughed heavily, "the enemy has it now, I would not have believed it but I briefly saw a few other rings in his possession as well."

"Which ones?" said Gandalf with a deep urgency in his voice.

"He has two other rings, both are of the Seven," said Thrain weakly, "he also asked me all news or knowledge I had of Isuldur's Heir and the One Ring."

"Did you tell him what you knew?" asked Gandalf.

"I told him nothing, which is why you find me in this fashion," said Thrain, "he would prefer to keep me alive, but I will die before I serve that evil thing," he spat viciously.

"Gandalf, we must get him out of here," I stated.

"I am too weak to move my friends," said Thrain sadly.

"Gandalf, give him the Travelling device and activate it, he will be safe there and taken care of," I declared. The grey wizard nodded and put the Portkey around Thrain's neck and with a murmured word and pop of displaced air the captive dwarf vanished.

"Now we just have to get ourselves out of here," said Gandalf.

"I'm afraid my old friend that will be quite difficult," I said grimly. Gandalf rushed out of the cell and glanced down the corridor that I was lighting. A thick wall of orcs was approaching our position. I drew my sword and it gleamed bright blue with the presence of the foul creatures, Gandalf had also armed himself with his long blade and looked at the approaching enemy grimly.

"I think it's time to make a dent in the numbers of orcs in this fortress," I declared, "Sauron is such a clever coward." I brought my staff to bear and with a wicked gleam in my voice I incanted: "Avada Kedavra." A rush of green light shot forth from my staff. A Death Eater who would have looked at the curse would be puzzled by its effect. The curse moved forward as a wave crashing against a beach. The orcs like the sand upon the beach was swept away and taken. Their bodies fell lifeless.

It was the only spell I could get off before the orcs had managed to close the gap between Gandalf and me. It helped that they had to climb over a few dozen of the comrades to do so. Orthorum rose and fell in grand sweeping arcs, hewing any orc that dared near me. Gandalf was making a similar impression with his blade.

But the orcs would drown us soon in sheer numbers, it did not matter how skilled Gandalf and I were.

"Gandalf, I think a bit of Istari wizardry is called for, buy me some time to make a device to get us out of here!" I screamed as I hewed an orc's head off. The Grey wizard did not debate the issue with me as he immediately raised his staff and called forth on the creation of Arda. With a slashing motion of his staff he wrought the roof above the assailing orcs, and it collapsed down on top of them.

Taking advantage of the reprieve I looked desperately for any object to enchant. A loose cobbled stone at my foot was the only thing that I could see working.

"Portus," I snapped, touching the stone with the base of my staff. It glowed blue and I picked it up quickly. Gandalf rushed over and placed a hand on it as well. "Now," I mumbled. The sensation of being pulled irresistibly forward, with a hook behind the navel overtook me; the world swirled around us in a blurry mass of colour.

Year 2851 of the Third Age, Middle-Earth, Arda

I sat with a grim expression in the Circle of Meeting, just outside the main courtyard of Imladris. It was the place that Elrond had built for the meetings of the White Council; an assemblage of all the wizards and Chief Eldar of Middle-Earth. It was mid afternoon and to my left sat Gandalf, to my right sat Radagast, and the other wizards. Across from me sat Elrond, Cirdain, and Galadriel, all of them wearing expressions of deep thought.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Saruman. Never in my life did I expect to see another wizard like Severus Snape, but yet here he was, reincarnated to haunt my steps for a seeming eternity. I now had a good idea what it would be like if Snape was the head of the Order of the Phoenix.

Gandalf had just finished his speech on urging a direct attack upon Dol Goldur by the combined power of the Council without delay.

Saruman's response to this was simple; he overruled Gandalf, saying that the time was not right. No, Saruman was not Snape, but more like if Snape and Fudge were to merge into one being.

"When would the time be right Saruman?" I sneered.

"Would you strike a knight where his armour is the thickest? And he is insurmountable in battle? No, I deem it best to wait till he thinks he is safe, and lets down his guard, then we will plunge the dagger into his back," said Saruman. It made sense from a certain point of view, but how longer was Saruman prepared to wait.

"And how will we know when the time is right Saruman? If Sauron ever lets down his guard, it will surely be a first for him," I countered.

"I have the means to know this," said Saruman, "which is beyond your wit Harold the Black."

"Really," I sneered, "you by some art unknown can deign the state of mind of that fallen Maiar?"

"Yes, I can," said Saruman.

"That is dangerous Saruman the White," said Elrond.

"I know the risk Lord Elrond, and it is a risk I deem worthy of taking," said Saruman, "the potential rewards are great."

I could not help but shudder at the eager tone in the White Wizard's voice. It was as if he was looking forward to using this art to look at that force of evil and malice. I hoped dearly it would not snare him, and doom us all. I knew that Saruman had long studied the arts of the enemy, to help to better counteract Sauron. This was clearly wise. But with great power comes the temptation to use it. Saruman clearly was a powerful and wise wizard, I hoped we would not come to rue the day he was elected as ruler of this council.

Year 2933 of the Third Age, Middle-Earth, Arda

I had decided for the day to volunteer for sentry duty in the grounds around Imladris. I had been busy with a lot of research and library work of late, and felt that the outside air would do me good. I took a horse from the stables that the elves called Berio. The horse had a deep chestnut mane and was as thoroughbred as any he had seen in his native realm, Rohan would be envious.

I was rather conflicted whether to change my appearance to that of an elf, or my true form of a wizard. Eventually I decided that a sentry had to be stealthy, therefore I changed into my elvish warrior clothes and leather gauntlets with a leather shoulder guards. I brought my bow, sword and wand. With a last thought I morphed my ears and tied my long black hair into the braids that an elf warrior sported.

"It's been a long time since I have seen Thaurdacil among us," said a laughing musical voice. I turned to see Elladan approaching the rally point, where I was waiting for the day's sentry duty. I grinned back at the twin.

"It has been too long since I have adopted this form, I rather miss it, hence the reason you see me," I grinned, "I have grown a bit tired of the affairs of wizardry."

"I imagine so, anyone who has to deal with Saruman the White on a regular basis, would feel this way," said Elladan with a grin.

"Tell me about it," I muttered dryly.

"Ah here comes everyone else," said Elladan, turning around in his saddle to see two dozen mounted elf warriors approaching the rally point. The Captain of the Sentry, Ellerosse, regarded me in a welcome surprise.

"It is good to see you as you truly are to us, Prince Thaurdacil," said Ellerosse.

"I agree, it's been way too long, and it's good to be back," I smiled, "so what are we doing today, standard patrol?"

"Yes," nodded Ellerosse, "we will stagger in even distances and relieve the current sentries." We spent another ten minutes going over strategy discussions for any scenario that might crop up. With a command Ellerosse ordered the patrol to begin. I started off first and with a light trot went off into the west. The light woods surrounding the valley where Imladris lay was a beauty to behold at this time of year, green everywhere and the soft breeze rustling through the leaves.

I travelled the south-western, western, and northern borders of Imladris during the before midday uneventfully, my mind was open and alert, but not to the degree where I could not enjoy the sights of the unspoilt nature around me, the musical chirping of the birds.

I broke out some lemdas and munched on it as for lunch as I traversed the eastern boundaries. I completed the circuit of Imladris once and continued forth on my second lap around the boundary. It was as I reached the south-western boundary an hour later that I detected something approaching. I halted my horse and concentrated. I leapt off Berio and told the horse to stay quiet and hide in the nearby concentration of trees. The person was approaching and had just crossed the nearby Bruinen Fords. I broke off on a silent run through the trees, the road from the fords passing my right as I ran. Getting closer I sensed that this person was travelling by horse. Using the trees to cover my approach I decided that I was close enough and vaulted into a tree overlooking the road. Soon I was perched on a high branch and could see for much farther.

Approaching me was a white horse with its rider robed in black, a hood obscuring...her face; I was judging gender by the broadness of the shoulders. I could see the sheath of a sword along the saddle of the horse. I pulled an arrow in my bow and aimed.

"Daro!" I commanded with a strong voice. (Halt!) My voice rang out across the road and it startled the horse she was riding on briefly, but she kept it under tight reign. She seemed to understand my order. "Pedo o le!" (Identify yourself!) I could see a hesitation in her actions but she eventually let down her hood. She was a woman, with braided light blonde hair that was escaping untidily and blue eyes, her face was dirty with sweat and grime of travel. I repeated my command and frustration was building on her face, she looked around frantically for me but could not hope to spot me in the dense forest.

"Please," she said with a rich voice, "I speak not the fair tongue, but a few words I understand. Reveal yourself, so I may address you." I considered my options for a few moments and relaxed my bow, and sheathed the arrow. With a few movements and swings I was back on the forest floor and stalked slowly up on her flank. She kept looking up and ahead for me and had not spotted me until I was almost within arm's reach. She gasped and placed a hand over her chest.

"Pardon me, lady," I apologized bowing my head slightly, "but we take no chances in this day and age. I am Prince Thaurdacil of Imladris, the place of which you have entered the boundaries of."

"So then I am at the right place," she sighed in relief, "my name is Gilraen and I come to your realm for the safekeeping of one dear to my heart." As she said this she parted her cloak to reveal a sling tied around her body, and in it was a sleeping baby. A nagging suspicion about her name prickled a memory of long ago in my mind.

"Who is the father if I may ask?"

"It pains me to say it, but his name was Arathorn II of the Dunedain," she replied, her voice conveying her sorrow and despair.

"It pains me to hear that Lady Gilraen," I said, "For I fought alongside the forefathers of this baby to free Arnor of the malice of the enemy. I hold still great love for them and their deeds. What is the child's name?"

"Aragorn I named him," replied Gilraen. I nodded and imbued magic in my voice to whistle with a scale of high to low notes. The sound travelled far and reached many ears. Soon Berio appeared out of the trees and trotted onto the road, and I mounted the horse.

"Follow me, Lady Gilraen, I will take you to Lord Elrond," I said and with a word of encouragement to Berio, the horse started to trot forward. Gilraen rode alongside me in silence. I escorted her into Rivendell proper and she gasped at the beauty of the sight. It was a sight that never failed to take my breath away as well.

We passed under the archway and into the Last Homely House. Our horses were taken and I led her to the courtyard where Elrond was standing solemnly in his blue and white flowing robes. I introduced them to each other and it was then that Gilraen finally told her of her plight.

"I fear for the safety of not only myself, but of my infant son, as he is in lines long traced; Isuldur's only remaining Heir," she said grimly. I on the other hand had to fight to stop myself from gaping like a fish at her in astonishment. "The Dunedain remnant can no longer protect me, they are too few and those who remain prefer a life of wandering solitude, hunting evil in the wilderness as Rangers."

It was hard to believe that this woman held the key to placing a King back on the throne of Men. But there was no lie in her eyes. I looked to my adopted father and wondered what he was thinking, but his face was as unfathomable as always.

"May I see the child?" asked Elrond, Gilraen nodded and unfurled the sling around her and cradled the infant in her arms, exposing the face of the baby. Elrond's gaze travelled over the baby and he lightly touched the forehead of the child. "The blood of Numenor flows pure in this child, and he is indeed Isildur's Heir, the cords of Fate twirls around him," said Elrond, "What is it you wish?"

"For him to be raised in your care as foster-father, and if you would be so kind that I remain as well," said Gilraen. I knew Elrond would never send her to fend for herself in the world, not when her son was here.

"Fear not, Lady Gilraen, you will stay in Rivendell and raise your son, the elves will provide for his education in the arts of life and war," said Elrond. The look of relief on her face was telling. "His true ancestry and name will be concealed, the elves will call him Estel, (hope) I suggest you do to."

"I thank you Lord Elrond for your kindness," said Gilraen with a bow of her head. Elrond beckoned a few elves to him and snapped orders to them to prepare quarters and lodging. "Lord Elrond?" The Chief Eldar turned to her with a curious expression. "It is said among the Dunedain that Rivendell is home to the wizard Harold the Black, if this is true, is he here?" Elrond smiled at this question and looked at me.

"Harold the Black does make this place his home, and yes he is here," said Elrond and turned to walk back into the house. Gilraen had a confused look on her face and turned to look at me.

"Why would you want to meet him?" I asked.

"Well he is legendary among the Dunedain for the many deeds he has done in their aid, some say he helped the Kingdom of Arnor endure for eight centuries longer than it would have otherwise," said Gilraen, "who would not want to meet him?"

"Indeed," I said, "well when he returns from his errantry I would be sure to introduce you to him Lady Gilraen, but come, let me take you to the guest quarters."

Year 3002 of the Third Age, Middle-Earth, Arda

I walked into the Hall of Fire and found the newest guest to make his home in Rivendell. A hobbit with rapidly greying curly hair, and a rounded face was staring into a book on his lap and wore a deep frown of concentration as he pondered the next lines of his book. Next to him sat an inkwell and his quill was being played by his fingers. I was in my true guise as a wizard and stood observing the hobbit called Bilbo Baggins for a while, I had willed myself to be invisible so as to not startle Bilbo.

I found it amazing that despite being one hundred and twelve years old, that the hobbit was still looking so young. But I merely had to gaze at Bilbo with my magical sense and I could see the dark power which had extended his life, and gained a foothold in his heart. But it was thankfully leaving him, thanks to the influence of the elves and Rivendell itself.

"Hello Master Bilbo," I greeted softly and became visible and walked into the light cast by the flame in the centre of the hall. Despite my efforts it seemed I did frighten the hobbit, as the inkwell was knocked over and it spilled over the floor. I walked closer, the tapping sound of my staff resonating across the hall.

"My word," exclaimed Bilbo. It must have been a bit strange for the hobbit seeing a legend come to life and start talking. I knew that they kept a portrait of me in 'The Green Dragon' an Inn in Hobbiton. They insisted on taking my likeness after I had helped in the defeat of a great host of orcs that threatened the Shire. The story was still well and alive among them in lore. I sat next to the astonished hobbit and gave him a friendly smile.

"I am Harold the Black," I greeted and with a small flick of my staff caused the ink that had run all over the floor to run back into the inkwell which had reassembled itself with a Repair Charm. "Sorry about that, I did try not to startle you, but no harm done," I grinned.

"I thought I had seen many things in my life's adventures, but this surely takes the cake," said Bilbo, and he shook my hand vigorously, "a pleasure to meet you Harold."

"The pleasure is mine, Bilbo," I said.

"So what can I do for you?" asked Bilbo eagerly.

"I have come to ask you about a certain item that remained in your possession for nearly sixty years, I am sure you know of what I speak?" I asked. The hobbit seemed to shrink at the question, and his features darkened. I met his eyes and had to shudder at the memories I could see flashing in them.

"Yes, I know," said Bilbo, his voice suddenly hoarse.

"All I want is just for you to describe its appearance to me," I stated. For a long time Bilbo remained silent his eyes staring into nothingness, but nevertheless replaying a lifetime of insidiousness and temptation.

"Its circle measures an inch all around, it's a thick solid gold with no adornment or jewel set in it," said Bilbo in a hollow voice, "whenever I put it on it made me invisible, came quite in handy a few times." I sighed wearily at this description, it confirmed my suspicions, I had the account of Isildur copied when I visited the library of Gondor long ago, and it was placed within my Pensive.

"What did you do with it?" I asked.

"I left it with Gandalf the night of my farewell party," said Bilbo. I was shocked at this news, surely Gandalf was wise enough not to touch the thing or use it or even contemplate using it!

"Bilbo, this is important, did Gandalf give you the impression that he wanted the Ring for himself?" I asked with despair.

"No," said Bilbo, "he asked me merely to leave it, and he stated he wanted to help me. It was the most difficult thing I have ever done, I had it in my hand and dropped it in the entrance hall and hurried out of my house," said Bilbo with strain in his voice. I breathed a bit of relief and placed my hand over the hobbit's heart and cast a Calming Charm. I stood and walked towards the fire.

"I thank you for that Bilbo, it is not easy to speak of that thing if it has had a hold on you for so long," I said.

"Are you worried for Gandalf?" asked Bilbo.

"I am worried for everyone Bilbo," I said, "for now that the Ring has at last revealed itself, it can mean only the beginning of a perilous new time for all, a time where our doom falls on the edge of a knife."