One Geek to Rule Them All

Many Meetings

"You?" cried Frodo.

"Yes, I, Gandalf the Grey," the wizard said solemnly. "There are many powers in the world, for good or for evil. Some are greater than I am. Against some I have not yet been measured. But my time is coming. The Morgul-lord and his Black Riders have come forth. War is preparing!"

"Then you knew of the Riders already—before I met them?"

"Yes, I knew of them. And I spoke of them once to you; for the Black Riders are the Ringwraiths, the Nine Servants of the Lord of the Rings. But I did not know that they had arisen again or I should have fled with you at once. I heard news of them only after I left you in June; but that story must wait. For the moment we have been saved from disaster, by Aragorn and those girls. Devin saved you when you stopped breathing at the Ford."

"Yes," said Frodo, "it was Strider, Devin, and Kitty that saved us. Yet I was afraid of them at first. Sam never quite trusted them, I think, not at any rate until we met Lady Arwen."

Gandalf smiled. "I have heard all about Sam," he said. "He has no more doubts now."

"I am glad," Frodo said. "For I have become very fond of them. Well, fond is not the right word. I mean they are dear to me; though they are strange, and grim at times. In fact, they remind me often of you. I didn't know that any of the Big People were like that; though Devin is rather small for one. I thought, well, that they were just big, and rather stupid: kind and stupid like Butterbur; or stupid and wicked like Bill Ferny. But then we don't know much about Men in the Shire, except perhaps Breelanders."

"You don't know much even about them, if you think old Barliman is stupid," said Gandalf. "He is wise enough on his own ground. He thinks less than he talks, and slower; yet he can see through a brick wall in time (as they say in Bree). But there are few left in Middle Earth like Aragorn son of Arathorn. The race of Kings from over the Sea is nearly at an end. It may be that this War of the Ring will be their last adventure."

"Do you really mean that Strider is one of the people of the old Kings?" said Frodo in wonder. "I thought they had all vanished long ago. I thought he was only a Ranger."

"Only a Ranger!" cried Gandalf. "My dear Frodo, that is just what Rangers are: the last remnant in the North of the great people, the Men of the West. They have helped me before; and I shall need their help in the days to come; for we have reached Rivendell, but the Ring is not yet at rest."

"I suppose not," said Frodo. "But so far my only thought has been to get here; and I hope I shan't have to go any further. It is very pleasant just to rest. I have had a month of exile and adventure, and I find that has been as much as I want."

"Frodo!" Sam cried with excitement when he entered the room and saw him awake. "Mr. Frodo!" He ran over to his bedside. Gandalf raised an eyebrow. It would seem his advice to get some sleep had been ignored.

"Sam," Frodo said, pleasantly surprised.

"Bless you, you're awake!" said Sam.

"I thought you were supposed to be resting?" said Frodo.

"I couldn't sleep," Sam said. "We were that worried about you. Weren't we, Mr. Gandalf?"

"By the skills of Lord Elrond, you're beginning to mend," Gandalf answered, as the elf-lord entered the room to check on his patient. The face of Elrond was ageless, neither old nor young, though in it was written the memory of many things both glad and sorrowful. His hair was dark as the shadows of twilight, and upon his brow was set a circlet of silver; his eyes were grey as a clear evening, and in them was a light like the light of stars. Venerable he seemed as a king crowned with many winters, and yet hale as a tried warrior in the fullness of his strength. He was the Lord of Rivendell and mighty among both Elves and Men.