GANDALF (Wraith)

The morning of June 2, 3019 - In a high, secluded valley of the White Mountains, Pippin sat upon a rock and looked down at the trail below him. The sight he beheld brought tears to his eyes. There below him he saw the refugees - women and children; aged and infirm carried on litters by those able; wounded soldiers hobbling on makeshift crutches and canes. Pippin wonders, "How long has it been now that we have been traveling? Let me see... it is June the 2nd. We started May 15... 18 days."

He sees Bergil climbing up and he wipes the tears from his eyes with his sleeve. Pippin thinks, "Not good for a ten-year-old to see me crying." He begins to hum a tune, but he knows it is really just false bravado. He wonders if they still call him "ernil i pheriannath," Prince of the Halflings.

"Pippin!" Bergil calls and goes and sits beside him on the rock. "That was a bit of a storm last night!"

"Yes, but at least now it is over and we should make good time today." Pippin thinks that he could use a pipe and some ale about this time, but provisions are scarce and it has been a long time since he had any Longbottom Leaf.

Bergil says, "My father says that we are making good time really, considering that there are so many poor folk that can barely keep up with the pace." Pippin thinks of the soldiers of the South who guard the refugees - the tall, proud men with their grim dignity and bearing - and how he has come to call them all "friend" over the past months of victory and defeat.

Pip sighs and says, "I never thought it would come to this, a sorrowful retreat. It is not even a retreat really, because where is there a place to go now?"

He hears hoofbeats approaching from farther up the trail. "Gandalf?"

Bergil cocks his head and looks quizically at Pippin. "It's not like you to lose heart," he says. "Do you really think there is any hope?"

Pippin looks sympathetically into the boy's wide eyes and remembers when he himself asked the same thing of Gandalf. The hobbit forces himself to grin. "Of course!" he says. "We all have stout hearts and strong bodies. That's all we need! And we have the White Wizard as well!" He hears hoofbeats from farther off the trail and sees a pale speck of a rider appear. "Gandalf? Right on cue!" he laughs.

Bergil laughs too, then nudges Pippin. "Tell me the story about the Balrog again!"

Pippin groans. "Oh, not now, Bergil!"

"Tell me the story about the Balrog and I'll give you this apple."

Pippin looks at the juicy, beautiful, red apple. His mouth waters. He just can't get used to the little bit of food these men eat, only three meals a day! And it is even worse now that they have to ration everything to make sure they don't run out. He'd tell the whole journey of the Fellowship for that apple.

He begins the story with gusto. He paints the dark suspense of Moria so well that Bergil feels he himself is running from orcs and trolls with the Fellowship. Each time Pippin has told the story, the Balrog has gotten bigger and scarier, and Gandalf's heroics have grown more and more extreme. This is Pippin's best rendition yet. Savoring the story, Bergil reacts as though he didn't know every detail of it. His jaw drops involuntarily when the horrible beast of flame and shadow appears. He gives a cry of dismay when the brave wizard falls down the chasm. He is downcast until Pippin describes, with a flourish, the return of the White Rider in Fangorn Forest. Bergil applauds and tosses Pippin the apple.

Suddenly they hear a chuckle. Gandalf has been standing before the oblivious pair for quite a while, and has managed to restrain his deep, hearty laughter until now.

Suddenly they hear a chuckle. Gandalf has been standing before the oblivious pair for quite a while, and has managed to restrain his deep, hearty laughter until now.

"Peregrin! Now you are earning your food by telling stories! A good profession it might be for you." A twinkle comes into his eye and he laughs heartily. "Now, beside being the bard of the White Mountains, I wonder what else have you been up to! Now do you two have any more apples for Shadowfax?" Shadowfax munches the tender, spring grass that grows so well in this high valley, but he looks over when he hears his name mentioned.

Gandalf sits beside them on the rock and looks back at the long line of refugees below them. A grave look comes over his face. "This valley should be safe for now, I think. Aragorn and I have decided that the men and boys who are willing and able to fight must increase the pace, lest we will not get to our destination in time and I know in my heart that we are needed desperately in Rohan."

Time passes as they rest upon the rock and now Shadowfax is in a playful mood. He comes over to the rock upon which the three sit. He nudges Bergil and hopes he has another apple hidden in his pocket.

Gandalf smiles at this. "Bergil, do you have any more for him? He will be disappointed if you don't."

"A guard commanded by your father Beregond will be left to protect these folks and will help them set up a camp. The people will profit by the rest anyway. Bergil, you will stay with your father and soon Peregrin, you will ride with me. We must make haste! We have an appointment with Saruman at Orthnac!"

(Another separation for Pippin)

"A guard commanded by your father Beregond will be left to protect these
folks and will help them set up a camp. The people will profit by the rest anyway.
Bergil, you will stay with your father and soon Peregrin, you will ride with
me. We must make haste! We have an appointment with Saruman at Orthnac!"

Gandalf's words seem familiar to Pippin. "Soon, Peregrin, you will ride with me. We must make haste!" Gandalf said that in Gondor, when Pippin, wrapped in a blanket, was recovering from his encounter with the palantir. Gandalf had lifted Pippin onto Shadowfax before he even had time to bid farewell to Merry. Pippin craned his neck to look back at his friend. Merry was waving and shouting something, but the hooves beat so loudly that Pippin couldn't understand it. "Goodbye, Merry!" he shouted, then leaned back against Gandalf as if nothing was wrong.

Now the memory makes the burning grief rise too powerfully for Pippin to conceal it from Bergil. He nods politely to Gandalf, then walks a few yards away and stands with his back to the pair. His shoulders heave as he tries to compose himself. "Yes, goodbye, Merry," he whispers, wiping his eyes.

His fingers feel something hard and smooth. He looks down. Bergil is pressing another apple into his hand.

"What's this?" Pippin says, trying to sound cheerful. "You were supposed to give the other apples to Shadowfax."

"Gandalf said I could give it to you," Bergil smiles.

June 2, mid-afternoon

<<Now the memory makes the burning grief rise too powerfully for Pippin to conceal it from Bergil. He nods politely to Gandalf, then walks a few yards away and stands with his back to the pair. His shoulders heave as he tries to compose himself. "Yes, goodbye, Merry," he whispers, wiping his eyes.>>

Gandalf walks over to Pippin and stands beside him quietly for a while. "Peregrin, we never really say goodbye to those who were good and true. Their memories are always with us deep in our hearts. Would Merry want you to cry? No, I think not, but he would want you to remember him and all that he said and did with joy. Don't you think so, my boy?"

Then a shadow passes over Gandalf's face and he seems to talk to himself. "There is not enough joy in this world. Now I sense that there that the Enemy brews some strange new evil, as if he had not contrived enough already." He pauses. "But there is still hope. There is always hope."

"Peregrin, we must leave now! We must descend down the mountains. Take your apples with you and eat them as we travel. Now let us go see if Saruman still has any Longbottom Leaf left!"

Gandalf lifts Pippin onto Shadowfax and jumps on quickly behind him, and then they are off down 30 miles of steep mountain trail, but Shadowfax has never failed them yet.

GANDALF (Wraith)

June 3, 3019

After a dizzying journey down from the place of refuge in the White Mountains, at last Pippin can see the Great West Road. Gandalf halts Shadowfax so Pippin can have a brief moment of rest, but the pause will not be long, for they must make haste. "Peregrin, do you have any of those apples left? Perhaps now is the time to eat one, for there will be little opportunity on the miles ahead to stop and take refreshment." Ahead of them on the road lies first Edoras. Then will come Helms Deep, a strong fortress once again, much of the damage done by the fires of Orthnac having been repaired by the surrendered Dunlendings. They will stop at neither for Orthnac is still many miles ahead. Pippin finishes chewing the remainder of the apple, and then Gandalf says, "Shadowfax, show us the meaning of haste!"

June 6
Orthnac

The journey has been long, but at last Gandalf and Pippin reach Orthnac. Pippin wonders at the strange black cloud that has gathered over the high towers of Orthnac. "Gandalf," he says, and in spite of himself, he begins to stammer. "What is that!"

"A foul portent of the enemy, Peregrin. His evil spreads far, but the evil that lies within Isengard has weakened, and will weaken more."

Through the gathering shadows, Pippin sees a familiar shape approaching. "Treebeard!" Pippin cries in surprise.

"Hoom, hoom. Saruman has been quiet the past few days, brooding on his misfortunes."

Gandalf says, "Yes, and he will think he has far more than he ever did before after today. He will either join us, or go into even greater darkness than that which is contained within him!"

Gandalf dismounts from Shadowfax at the door of Isengard, and then assists Pippin in getting off. "Saruman! Come forth. We will speak." Silence meets his words, but then a figure can be seen on the balcony over the stairs.

"Gandalf, Gandalf," they hear a whining voice. "Why do you trouble me now?"

Gandalf says, "I see you have not learned your lesson yet, Saruman."

"The lessons you teach are not to my liking! Were things so bad for you in the South, Gandalf, that you now come north to Orthanc to trouble me yet again?"

"Saruman, it is my hope that some goodness still remains in your heart, but trouble you will receive if you do not know to do that which is right. Your freedom, I offer you, if you will join us and help in this desparate fight we now face."

Saruman says, "What freedom is this? You offer me slavery under your will. I will not join you now or forever!"

"Then you shall join us, or you will go for evermore to your dark Master. Hand over the keys to Orthnac."

Saruman, greatly diminished in power, has very little left now save the persuasion in his voice. There will be no argument in him, for he knows he could not stand against Gandalf. Pippin hears the sound of metal hitting stone, and Gandalf bends down to pick up the keys to Orthnac.

The two figures that come down from Orthnac a short while later speak not a word to Gandalf, and their figures are soon lost as they head Southeast in the gloom.

Pippin says, "I wonder if there is any of that weed from the Southfarthing left in there?"

Gandalf laughs. "You would think of that, Peregrin, wouldn't you, at a time like this?"

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