~Return of a Friend~
It was the seventh day of Coirë (17 February) in the year 3019 of the Third Age when a large shadow was observed above the canopy of mellyrn in Caras Galadhon. 'What does this portend?' we wondered. Just the day before the Company from Imladris had set off down the Anduin in boats provided by Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. We feared that perhaps the company was being pursued by some enemy from above.
'Archers, stay your arrows!' cried Celeborn. 'This is no enemy but a friend, Gwaihir, lord of the Great Eagles.' We knew not why Gwaihir had come, but would soon learn of his purpose.
Lady Galadriel summoned me to her garden. As I approached I saw an old man in white standing some distance behind her. 'Curunír!' I cried with alarm. The Lady comforted me saying, 'Fear not, Thibinoriel, it is not the traitor of Isengard.'
'Do you not recognize an old friend?' laughed the old man.
'Mithrandir!' I joyfully exclaimed. 'We were told that you--'
'Had fallen?' he asked. 'I did, but have returned.' Evidently, Gwaihir had carried Mithrandir to Lothlórien from where the wizard had fallen on the peak of Celebdil.
'But you are dressed in white?' I asked with confusion.
'In clothing provided by the ladies of Lothlórien,' Mithrandir answered.
'Mithrandir is now head of the Heren Istarion,' Lady Galadriel explained. 'His purpose in Middle-earth has not yet been fulfilled.'
'I believe I now understand,' I said with a sigh of relief.
'I have a request to make of you, Thibinoriel,' Mithrandir stated. 'I wish you to write me a song.'
'What sort of song?' I asked.
'A song fit for a king,' Mithrandir replied.
~Fit for a King~
The next morning I delivered a scroll to Mithrandir on which I had written the poem. Accompanied by Thalinras the harpist, I sang the song for the wizard. He listened attentively.
'If I stood before Gil-galad himself there is no song I would rather sing,' he said.
'You flatter me, Mithrandir!' I said, blushing.
'Alas, Gil-galad sits no more upon his throne,' the wizard said sadly. 'I go not to Lindon, nor to the hall of any Elven King. Rather, I go to Edoras in Rohan where Théoden sits upon his throne in Meduseld. I believe Théoden would appreciate your song. Very much so, in fact. You may be surprised to learn that Sindarin is his mother tongue for he was born in Lossarnach, the land of Morwen his mother. However, others in the court of Meduseld would not,' the wizard explained. 'I require a song in Westron, the common tongue of Men.'
Flustered, I replied, 'If only I had known, Mithrandir!' I thought for a moment, then added, 'I will compose a shorter, simpler song. I will have it to you by noonday.'
'I fear that will not be soon enough,' the wizard answered. 'I am in great haste, and must leave immediately.'
'I am terribly sorry, Mithrandir,' I said mournfully.
'Do not fret, dear lady,' said Mithrandir. 'I will improvise something. Farewell!' And he was gone.
~Fangorn Forest~
As told to me by Legolas, Prince of the Woodland Realm, he and his companions Gimli the Dwarf and Elessar encountered Mithrandir in Fangorn Forest where they were searching for their companions, Meriadoc and Peregrin, who had escaped from their captors, orcs of Isengard. The two halflings were safe in the hands of Fangorn the Onod, Mithrandir explained.
Elessar had promished Éomer that he would return to Edoras the horses they had been lent when he had completed his search for the two missing halflings. Mithrandir, also, was obliged to return his steed Shadowfax to Théoden. So the four rode to Edoras where the King of the Horselords resided in his Golden Hall of Meduseld.
~Edoras~
Arriving in Edoras on the nineteenth day of Coirë (2 March), the four companions were met by the doorwarden Háma, who allowed them enter the hall only after they set aside their weapons. The companions did so albeit grudgingly. Mithrandir, however, pursuaded Háma to permit him his staff, which the wizard claimed was a prop to support him in his dotage. Háma, being a kindly man, allowed it.
The king's counselor Gríma Wormtongue, whom Mithrandir would soon reveal as Curunír's spy, hurled insults upon the visitors as they stood before the throne. 'Láthspell I name you, Ill-news; and ill news is an ill guest they say,' he said to the wizard. 'But who are these that follow on your tail? Three ragged wanderers in grey, and you yourself the most beggar-like of the four!'[1] Mithrandir's white robes were concealed under his cloak.
'The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessend of late,' said Mithrandir to the King. 'Grey is their raiment, for the Elves clad them, and thus they have passed through the shadow of great perils to your hall.'[2]
'Then it is true, as Éomer reported, that you are in league with the Sorceress of the Golden Wood?' the King's counseler said accusingly. 'It is not to be wondered at: webs of deceit were ever woven in Dwimordene.'[3]
Mithrandir had to restrain Gimli's anger. The wizard instead replied with a song:
In Dwimordene, in Lórien
Seldom have walked the feet of Men,
Few mortal eyes have seen the light
That lies there ever, long and bright.
Galadriel! Galadriel!
Clear is the water of your well;
White is the star in your white hand;
Unmarred, unstained is leaf and land
In Dwimordene, in Lórien
More fair than thoughts of Mortal Men.[4]
Rebuking Wormtongue, Mithrandir threw off his outer cloak to reveal his new form and power. The wizard healed Théoden King of the hurt caused by Wormtongue's twisted mutterings, and pursuaded the King to lead his people to the Hornburg in Helm's Deep where they could better defend themselves from Curunír's vast army of uruks.
~The End~
[1] J.R.R. Tolkien, 'The Two Towers', The King of the Golden Hall
[2] ibid.
[3] ibid.
[4] ibid.
