The Painting

I woke sweating, wide-eyed, and missing a few screws in my head, if the look on my already awake roomate's was not a response to an invisible freaky act of nature.

"Zira, are you alright?" she asked, concerned. "why are you fully dressed in bed, and the contents of your slingbag..." I lifted my left hand, palm facing her.

"No worries, Ainy. Just another one of those things," I replied smoothly. Her eyebrows shot up.

"But we already took care of that,are you..." she gulped, "are you seeking them out on purpose? Are you mad? You know what the stories say, the nicest of them are like the most evil of men!"

I sighed, knowing the truth of that statement, except that she's talking about djinns, and I'm dealing with elves. Surviving descriptions of djinns include blood red eyes, 2-storey heights, muscular body covered in fur, and hair longer than what elves' are used to, but you never know. Ainy was right to err on the side of caution.

"I'll keep that in mind," I frowned, musing over the "HE" that both Aredhel and Luthien was talking about. I considered He for Aredhel might be Eol, and that for Luthien it could possibly be King Thengel still pissed off at her for falling for Beren. Yes, that could be it.

"Zira."

"Hrrmmm?"

"Be careful, okay," my roomate held my gaze, and seeing the worry in her eyes, I smiled warmly back. No need to include her in the looney bin club.

"It was just a nightmare, love," I patted her arm, and went off to the shower.

--

Since I was rudely interrupted while talking to Luthien, so I have certainly failed in my 'mission' to acquire more information. Since my former choices are whacked, I decided to learn from my mistake and pick a picture of someone who doesn't have anyone chasing after him, and is wisest to boot.

Who else?

I'll need someone wise, someone still alive, and definitely someone nice.

I picked Gandalf, purely because he's such a superbly nice old granfatherly fellow that I figured I couldn't possibly detract and end up as another gaping graceless human girl session. With Gandalf, however, it is mighty tricky. That old Maia's been around a lot, and many, many battle scenes are available.

I certainly don't want to end up anywhere near the Balrog, Witch King or the Mines of Moria, Allah forbid Mordor or anywhere fatally dangerous. The red haired elleth proved to me that getting hurt here means my physical self is hurt too.

Of course, I thought to myself. It must be after the War of The Ring. It must be somewhere nice and safe. It must be somewhere where no one would barge him, and plus, this Maia can do his shining light thingy and protect me from HIM, just in case this nameless foe wasn't chasing after the women that I was talking to.

I must admit though, I was tempted to pick a Lego inspire picture of Gandalf. It would be cute to talk to a square Lego Gandalf.

So, Billy Mosig's Gandalf it was then.

When I 'arrived', I was surprised to find that it was in colour, because the picture was basically a backgroundless sketch. Here, Gandalf was dressed in white, his beard and hair slightly wavy, and that twinkle in his eyes definitely spelled 'not human, missy'. My bare feet felt the rich damp earth, sprouts of new grass shooting through and it looks like we were at the remade Tower of Orthanc which the Maia Saruman had defiled and ravaged. Can't remember the new name. The sun was bright, yet gently so and the sky was blue. It even smells of daisies and dandelions, very nice.

Odd.

He looks like he was telepathically talking to a relatively young tree who I swear 'shhh shhh-ed' by rustling its leaves in return, his free palm flat on its bark, a crystal staff in the other.

"Greetings, Gandalf!" I said cheerfully.

"Ah," I felt a gentle nudge in my mind and allowed him limited entrance, "Azira it is, hrmm? Hello, hello, welcome to my humble abode." He beckoned me to follow him, which I complied obediently. "Come, little one," he said in his usual way, changing in a new colour hasn't affected his personality much, it seems.

I followed him up the winding stairs, past a few massive closed doors until finally we reached his main study, a few floors shy of the highest point where he was, I knew, imprisoned by Saruman before.

A table appeared out of the piles of scrolls and books that was unceremoniously pushed down to a little hill of more scrolls and books on the floor beside it, another chair appeared for me, and from a room I couldn't discern Gandalf returned with a freshly made pot of tea, some honeycakes and little surprise there two pipes and some pipeweed, of which I politely declined.

We made small talk, the honeycakes were delicious, the tea wholesome, but back to business before something else pops up.

"Are you aware of my purpose here, Gandalf?" I asked him. He blew a perfect donut in the air.

"Hmm, yes, little one," he sighed, placing his pipe's mouthpiece at the very tip of his mouth, elbow on the table, a gesture which amused me very much. "For surely, you do not brave the tales of old without reason?"

"I am here to help find the Straight Way for elves, for all that I am mortal and from a different dimension," I said bluntly. I hope he's not going to speak in riddles some more.

"Ah, the Straight Way as they call is no mere road any could walk, it is a a path meant for only elves, or the immortal beings to pursue, and was never allowed for any other save three, Earendil the Mariner, his wife Elwing and elf friend Gimli son of Gloin."

"Mmmmkay," tell me something I don't know please, grandpa.

"You must seek the grace that was lost," he said in that whistling baritone voice of his.

"Lost grace?" I stupily echoed, stumped. "What lost grace? Losing one's virgi-err mind?"

He shook his head in equal comraderie of cluelessness. "Of all the gifts I was given, all-knowing is not mine, for that is Ea's claim."

I snorted. I should've known this was coming. Wizards and their riddles!

"GANDALF!!!" I nearly dropped my teacup at the bellow.

"Stay there, little one, now, now, don't drop it, it's a gift from Eldarion," he chattered as if a raw, scorching voice yelling loudly from below with such intensity that it seems like it was yelled into one's ear was the most normal thing in the world. Oh, old wizard you are aware of how tall the Tower of Orthanc is, right?

"GANDALF!!!! I KNOW SHE IS HERE!!!"

I gulped, and looked wide eyed into Gandalf's calm eyes. He popped his head out a window and looked down, "QUIET DOWN, I'LL BE JOINING YOU IN A WHILE!" He deftly dropped another honeycake on my plate, "Now, eat another, you are too slender and I'll be up in a..."

"I WILL NOT BE THWARTED!"

My jaw dropped as in my gut the most malicious, evil, threatening feeling fed upon my fleeting courage as I tasted irrational fear, the honeycake forgotten. My chest seemed to be clenched by an invisible force that my head reeled in reflexive adrenaline, the muscles of my entire body suddenly tightened in spasms and cramps.

I dropped my teacup and saucer, and as it crashes upon the marble floor my eyes teared up in pain, I was gasping for breath.

I was seated facing the window behind Gandalf's study chair, and in passing I glimpsed a humungus beastlike shadow with wings going 'flap, flap, flap, flap', a loud breathing with growlings, almost like how it sounds like when people can't breathe, only much louder and feral.

Another attack seized me and I saw blinding lights, and Gandalf was bellowing something back at it. He chanted something, I guess, because just right before I passed out, I could vaguely registered a frustrated hiss saying "Ssshee's miiiine, MAIA..."

--

Strange.

I'm floating in thin air, little stars raining, or more accurately in the same stasis condition I was in. I cupped one in my right palm an noted its puffer-fish like shape, round, the light in its midst, and the pointed edges sparkling. I looked down, and saw that I am dressed in a scanty white shift, no bra, and felt a little exposed. I looked beyond that and discovered nothing but the deep velvet violet of darkness that looked no different than a clear night sky.

Maybe I'm in space, I mused.

Then something that looks like a black hole extended its blob of darkness towards me. Reflexively, I grasped the little stars and tossed one in its wake. It stalled, and recoiled from it. I turned around, and willed myself as far away from that dark blob that is possible. I then discovered that I had fluffy white wings, but I guess my first crash course on how to use them was borne of desperation as I somehow glided across the span of velvet night sky.

Several times it tried to reach out to me, and several more I managed to avoid it, an screamed out loud when one finally managed to grasp my hand. I stabbed it with one of the stars, it let me go.

I frantically searched for a safe haven, but there is nothing but empty space.

Again and again, it attacked me. Again and again, I somehow just managed to get away. I was flying, or gliding in circles, zig zags, anything I could think of.

'Help me someone! Please, help me!' I begged to no one.

Suddenly.

"Little one, return to the light," a voice called out to me.

'Where?'

"Come to the light," another familiar voice called to me. Who?

"Where, Gandalf, where?"

"Little one, return to the light," the blob had finally caught up with me, absorbing my insubstantial form into its darkness.

'Wait' I paused.

I saw a blinding light not unlike the sun, only in the cooler shade of the moon and instinctively reached out to it, my fingers barely touching its source and I felt like I was sucked into the midst of the blob. I felt stretched, as both the light and the blob played tug-of-war with my body.

It was getting colder.

'Ah.'

My right index finger touched on something warm.

My will failing me, I lost consciousness.

--