LOTR/ TH Imagines

Wizards of Battle- Mentor!Gandalf

-.-Edited-.-

FLASHBACK

The grass was coarse and it scratched against your legs as you sat down, defeated. The dizziness soon subsided but the feeling that a hand was clamping down on your lungs stayed.

"Y/n," said Gandalf impatiently.

You sighed. "I will never be as great of a wizard as you."

Gandalf had been training you non-stop, day after day ever since he found out you had magic abilities. Learning to wield and control your powers was the most difficult thing you had to do.

"You have only just started your road. Magic takes time to advance and be controlled." You saw the swish of your mentor's white robes as he stood before you. You knew he thought highly of you-- you just didn't want to disappoint him.

You outstretched your hand and plucked a dead daisy from the earth. It levitated and bloomed back to life. You set it back and let its roots reconnect with the dirt and grass. "Very good," Gandalf mused, "but learning to regrow flowers won't help you on the battlefield."

"Battle?"

"It's time for you to start dueling."

You looked up and saw that Gandalf was serious; this was no joke. You knew he was right. Being a wizard meant you were targeted as magic was both feared and respected. There would always be those in Middle Earth that meant you harm. You stood up, putting on a brave face, and grabbed your staff.

FLASHBACK OVER

"Gandalf?" you yelled worriedly. Gondor was under attack and you left with him to assist on the battlefield. You spun in a circle, staff in one hand, sword in the other. You had been trained in every weapon range from the last few years: Legolas taught you archery, Aragorn taught you sword fighting, Gimli taught you ax techniques, and of course, you already knew spells.

An earsplitting screech echoed above you as a Nazgul swooped and knocked men off their horses. The dark shadow fell over you for a moment. You ducked to the ground. Your heart beating, hands shaking, eyes darting across the plains.

'Fear is essential to battle,' Gandalf once told you. 'But you must learn to control it.'

You took a deep breath and ignored the smell of dust, sweat, blood, and death. You allowed yourself to become aware of your surroundings. You shook off the adrenaline and stood, weapons in hand.

There were no enemies around you; however, there were no allies either. You spotted Gandalf in the distance and began to jog towards him.

The Nazgul let out another terrible call as it dove towards the land, right toward your mentor.

You screamed, "Watch out!" You shoved men aside, earning angry shouts as you did so, and stabbed orcs trying to get to him and help. The Nazgul knocked him aside. The wizard fell unconscious and the enemy advanced to finish him.

Raising your staff, you blinded the Rider with a simple light spell. Anything to distract it from going in for the kill. "Don't touch him," you cried.

"Foolish girl," the hooded creature sneered. His great steed turned toward you. Its breath tousled your hair and covered you with the rotting stench. "Don't you know better to come between a Nazgul and his prey?"

"That's exactly what the Witch King said before he got killed," you answered defiantly. "Wasn't he your companion? You should know better than to face a woman on the battlefield." You raised your staff to the air, trying to make yourself look taller.

'Sometimes confidence can be intimidating for others-- and possibly help you avoid conflict.'

You looked back to your fellow wizard. Gandalf groaned but did not wake up. With some relief, you focused back on your opponent.

You swung your sword in a massive arch and brought it down on the beast's neck, just how stories explained how Eowyn did it. The Nazgul reared and the Rider fell off, then with one last screech, it collapsed to the ground, wings still twitching.

The Rider let out an angry call as he stood up. Swinging a club towards at your head, he started the attack.

You lifted your staff and formed a shield around yourself, the club hit it and bounced off. Your shield disappeared after the impact.

Amber flames pulsed through your fingertips. You let your staff absorb the magic and amplify it; the column of fire redirected toward the Rider. He laughed and deflected your magic. It had no effect on him.

You racked through your memories to find a weakness-- every creature has one! Then you remembered that riders hate water.

Using your hand and your staff you created a large ball of water and caught the Rider in it. You concentrated and allow the liquid to hover over the air. A fast current swirled throughout it, keeping the Rider locked inside. He writhed and fought but he couldn't get out. You smiled just a little bit.

Not breaking your concentration from your spell, you grabbed your sword and advanced on your drowning attacker. He seemed to stop struggling as you neared, perhaps he knew he was about to meet is inevitable doom. You moved closer to finish him.

"Behind you!" you heard Gandalf splutter. You turned, breaking your concentration, and chopped off the head of an orc coming behind you. Clearly, that was a mistake, the ball of water dropped. Water swirled around your feet and into the earth.

The Rider then came up behind you and shoved a Morgul Blade into your back. The knife sunk deep enough to make you scream. Your skin tore itself to shreds as the blade was twisted further, coming out of your stomach.

You took your own sword, knowing that the Rider was still standing behind you. If you aimed just right, you could hit a crucial organ.

You stabbed your sword through your chest and into his own. He stumbled away in shock. You turned and sunk a spare knife into his helmet. Your hand burned as he shrieked and shriveled up, collapsing onto the battlefield. Orcs screamed and fled, only to be chased down by the remaining warriors.

The Morgul poison fired in your veins, you shouted in agony. Blood seeped onto your clothing. The men who hadn't been watching you defeat the Nazgul turned and stared, unable to help.

"No!" Gandalf rasped. He caught you as you fell to your knees. Blood roared in your ears as Gandalf said an incantation that drew the poison out, but he didn't have the magic to heal your wounds. The Rider had placed the blade carefully; the wound would kill you. Already your elevated heart rate was weakening. You couldn't help but feel anxious and confused. "Eyes on me, Y/n," you mentor commanded. You looked up to the wizard, he had tears in his eyes.

You tried to focus on him, but your vision blurred with lethargy. You opened your mouth to speak, probably to tell him what a good teacher he was, but the words were caught in your throat. You tried to control your breathing-- fast and shallow-- but that made you panic. You were losing blood too fast. The shock was doing nothing for your pain.

Gandalf mumbled a spell that allowed you to relax. You sighed gratefully and managed to smile. With a new sense of peace, you looked up to the watercolor sky of twilight. Your staff fell out of your hand with a thud and blackness embraced you with open arms.

...I'll never be as great of a wizard as you...

"No, you were better..."