Frodo came down the steps from the bedroom gallery, Sam at his heels, and turned in the tall back doors to the King’s hall. This was a long marble vaulted room lined with statues and stone benches. Gandalf was there, sitting near the back door, his robes and hair even whiter than the wall behind him. And next to him was what could only be another wizard. The two Hobbits stopped and stared.

Gandalf called them over. “Frodo, Sam.” they exchanged a look and went. “I would like you two to meet my cousin Lehtan Bluecloak.”

Frodo bowed , trying not to stare. The strange wizard was white haired and bearded like Gandalf with pale grey eyes set in a tanned and weathered face, and wrapped in a blue cloak - just as his name suggested. Frodo had a feeling he’d heard it somewhere before but it was Sam who placed it.

“Lehtan Bluecloak from the old stories?” he frowned, almost combatively. “Where‘s Dagen then?”

The strange wizard laughed. “So the Little Ones remember us still. Good.” he had a deep, mellow voice brimming with warmth and humor, just the way Gandalf’s did when he was in a good mood. “Dagen is still with the Rhovanioni, but he will be joining us here in due time.”

Sam turned to Gandalf. “*You’re* not in the old stories!”

Their wizard friend smiled. “I didn’t come to know Hobbits until after you’d settled in your Shire.”

“Well after you had passed out of our ken.” said Lehtan.

By now Frodo had remembered the stories too...not ancient Elven tales but bedtime stories for young Hobbits. “You and Dagen killed the Black Beast.” he said, remembering.

Lehtan smiled again. “That’s right. Beast killing is our speciality. We live in the East, when your folk passed over the mountains they passed out of our care.” he glanced sidelong at his fellow wizard. “Fortunately Gandalf was there to take you in hand.”

“Say rather to be taken in hand!” Gandalf laughed.

“Imagine Lehtan and Dagen from the old stories, large as life if not as natural.” Sam said shaking his head as they continued on to their usual haunt in the herb court. “I don’t know why I’m so surprised, we’ve been surrounded by old stories come to life ever since we started on this business.”

“I suppose the difference is the Blue Wizards are one of our legends, not a tale of Elves or Men.” Frodo offered.

“I expect you and Dagen to spend at least some of your time here in the West after I am gone.” Gandalf was saying to his kinsman back in the hall.

Lehtan nodded. “Of course.” then he smiled. “We will do our best to take your place.”

“And Saruman’s.” Gandalf sighed.

Both wizards were silent an long moment, mourning the fall of their comrade.

“I remember, when first we were chosen for this task, of us all Curumo alone was not afraid.” Lehtan said at last.

“Perhaps that should have warned us.” said Gandalf sadly.

“As I recall at the time we took it as a mark of grace.” Lehtan replied wryly.

Gandalf sighed again. “So we did.” then shrugged regret aside and turned the subject. “We were speaking of Tal-argan.”

“Or Runa as he is most often named in the East.” Lehtan agreed. “He was already known to Morinehtar and Romestamo when we joined them in the Eastlands but worked in his own ways apart from them.”

“Was he blind?”

Lehtan nodded. “Yes. I know no more than you how or when it happened. Our Elven colleagues might know but they have never spoken of it.”

“He should return with us to the Blessed Lands.” Gandalf said.

Lehtan’s brows rose. “Should he? I doubt he will think so.”

“Then I will convince him otherwise.” Gandalf said determinedly. But it was not until that evening that he found an opportunity to speak alone with Tal-argan.

The aged Elf had spent his day spreading his unique form of healing among the wounded Men in the lower galleries, guided by both Frodo and Sam who seemed to find a curious kind of solace in the work. Aragorn and Eomer had returned to the camp taking Legolas, Merry and Pippin with them so it was a very small company indeed that sat down to sup together and sit smoking on the gallery afterward, just the Ringbearers, Gandalf and his brother wizard. The sickle of the old moon was high in the starry sky when the Hobbits finally went off to bed leaving Gandalf free to seek out Tal-argan in his little chamber off the herb court.

The Elf lay, darkened eyes closed, on the bed but they opened the moment Gandalf’s shadow fell across him. “Olorin?”

“Yes.” the wizard came into the room, white robes faintly luminous in the dimness. “I would talk with you if I may.”

“Of course.” Tal-argan said politely. Gandalf found a chair and sat gazing sadly at the ruin before him. “What is it you would say to me?” the Elf prompted.

“The Third Age is ended and the Fourth Age will be an age of Men, it is time for remnants of the Elder Days to leave Middle Earth and return their long home in the West.”

A slow smile spread over Tal-argan’s ravaged face. “And you would include me among the remnants? No, Mithrandir. I have rejected Blessedness and been rejected by it. I stay here.”

“It is true that you have rejected us but never have we rejected you.” Gandalf said earnestly.

Thin arched brows rose. “No? ’On the House of Feanor the wrath of the Valar lieth from the West unto the uttermost East, and upon all that will follow them it shall be laid also.’ the Doomsman said: ‘And your houseless spirits shall come then to Mandos. There long shall ye abide and yearn for your bodies and find little pity though all whom ye have slain shall entreat for you.’ Thank you, Mithrandir but given a choice I would prefer not to spend the remaining Ages of the World in the Dark Halls!”

“You have indeed spent too much time among Men if like them you believe the Valar to be both unreasonable and unkind.” Gandalf replied heavily. “Are you not already punished far more cruelly than any sentence my Masters would impose?”

Tal-argan shook his head. “Penance is not punishment, Mithrandir. I think blindness a most fitting expiation for my sins, as is the work I do among Men.” then more gently. “I know very well the Valar are merciful as well as just, perhaps more merciful than I deserve. But I have surrendered myself to the One above them. By Him I swore and His justice I will abide, trusting also in His mercy. And while I wait for His judgment I will do His work among His children.”

“In a ruined body.” Gandalf said sadly.

Tal-argan laughed. “Ruined? Not so, Mithrandir! I am as hardy as ever I was - if not so pretty. And if I have my aches and pains they but help me relate to the mortals around me.” then more seriously. “Better a damaged body than a damaged soul. Believe me, Mithrandir, I prefer my present state a thousand times over to my former one!”

Gandalf studied him thoughtfully. “Lehtan said you would not wish to go, and hinted he thought it right that you stayed. And I...I find myself halfway agreeing with you both.”

‘That is good.” Tal-argan smiled, then said soberly. “If I am commanded to return I will obey. But I wish to stay, just as I am, here in Middle Earth.”

“I do not command you, I cannot.” Gandalf rose. “I must think on what you have said. We will speak further.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Tal-argan returned with a glint of humor.

****

Down in the King’s camp a wakeful Pippin was talking to Legolas. They sat outside the King’s tent where lights still burned and the voices of captains and scouts murmured, the Hobbit with his pipe and the Elf sitting upwind fletching arrows.

“Frodo is better, much better.” Pippin was saying. “But he’s not back to his old self yet.”

“Nor will he ever be.” said the Elf.

“Legolas!” Pippin protested

“Frodo cannot go back to what he was after all he has seen and suffered.” the Elf explained patiently. “Any more than you can, Peregrin Took.”

“Me?” Pippin said blinking in astonishment. “I’m all right.”

“Indeed you are, Sir Peregrin Trollbane. But you are not the heedless young Hobbit that set off on this quest. You too and been changed.” Legolas smiled wryly. “As have I, old as I am by your measures. I have learned much of Men and befriended a Dwarf and come to understand that my folk have not always been in the right in their dealings with others.”

“Well, nobody’s perfect. Not even Elves.” said Pippin.

“Alas all too true.” Legolas agreed. “But my point is none of us are as we were. We have passed together through fire and death and darkness and come back into the light reborn and renewed and no longer the Elf or Man or Dwarf or Hobbit we were before.”

“Except for Boromir.” Pippin said, tears starting in his eyes.

“No, Pippin, no! Boromir is the most changed of us all.” Legolas protested. “He passed through terrible trials, but in the end he prevailed and gave up a soul strengthened and purified to the One.”

“But he died!” Pippin cried.

“Death is not the worst thing that can befall us, as you should know very well by now my Little Friend.” the Elf chided gently.

“That’s true.” Pippin sighed. “But I still wish Boromir were here to enjoy our victory.”

“As do I.” Legolas sighed. “But never fear, Pippin. Though Boromir is not with us, he knows and is happy in the fall of Sauron and the saving of his City. And where-ever he is he wishes you and us all well.”

“I hope you’re right.” said Pippin.