Passage of the day: The old man was too quick for him. He sprang to his feet and leaped to the top of a large rock. There he stood, grown suddenly tall, towering above them. His hood and his grey rags were flung away. His white garments shone. He lifted up his staff, and Gimlis axe leaped from his grasp and fell ringing on the ground. The sword of Aragorn, stiff in his motionless hand, blazed with a sudden fire. Legolas gave a great shout and shot an arrow high into the air: it vanished in a flash of flame. Mithrandir! he cried. Mithrandir! Well met, I say to you again. Legolas! said the old man. They all gazed at him. His hair was white as snow in the sunshine; and gleaming white was his robe; the eyes under his deep brows were bright, piercing as the rays of the sun; power was in his hand. Between wonder, joy, and fear they stood and found no words to say. At last Aragorn stirred. Gandalf! he said. Beyond all hope you return to us in our need! What veil was over my sight? Gandalf! Gimli said nothing, hut sank to his knees, shading his eyes. Gandalf, the old man repeated, as if recalling from old memory a long disused word. Yes, that was the name. I was Gandalf. ~Evenstar
Posted on: Tue, 09 Sep 2014 20:07:19 +0000
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