Hmm... I think I have a suitable tale for this....
The teacher Frodo stalked into the Inn of the New Shire like a Nazgûl with a hangover and glared at the wreckage of the chairs and tables. When they didn't repair themselves, he sighed heavily and leaned on the bar and snarled at the Orc who was polishing shards of glass behind the bar. "Morning Mr. Frodo," said the Orc putting his bar-towel down. "Mr. Gandalf has broken all the glassware --" there was a slight pause where the word 'again' should have gone, "-- so I'm serving ale in mugs again. Begging your pardon, sir." Frodo waved an irritated hand and waited. Sure enough, the sound of his name was enough to rouse Gandalf from whatever slumber he had been in, and he emerged from the cellar wreathed in pipe smoke and sparks like an electric balrog during a storm. He raised his staff, and Frodo considered for a moment that he was sure that Gandalf had put Saruman's skull on the end of it, and then he saw who it was. "Oh," he said. "It's you. I suppose I should have guessed. You still haven't learned respect, have you?" "You're a terrible teacher," said Frodo. The Orc behind the bar pushed a pewter mug of something yellowish in front of him. It appeared to be dissolving the inside of the mug. "You use that War as an excuse for all the bad behaviour you weren't allowed to indulge in before it. When's it going to stop, Gandalf? How long before we have a normal community again?" "Hah, you can talk!" Gandalf waved a hand at the Orc who obediently started checking the bottles of spirits. "You were given a simple lesson: take the One Ring of Power to Mount Doom and dispose of it responsibly. From all the reports I've had you treated it as a shopping trip for valuable magical items, an excuse to put a puppet king on a throne, and you murdered Gollum while you were at it." The Orc pushed a mug of something so alcoholic that the fumes made Frodo's eyes water in front of Gandalf and then crouched down on the floor behind the bar. Frodo and Gandalf stared at one another like cats disputing territory.
"Aragorn is not a puppet king," said Frodo. "Not your puppet, whelp," said Gandalf. "But I suppose you might not have known that. You did half-inch Ea's Crystal Veil though." There was a movement you might not have seen if you weren't looking for it, but Gandalf, of course, was. A lacy, crystalline doily of some kind, that might have been a veil if attached properly, clattered onto the bar. "You're trying to teach me?" Gandalf sounded amused. "This isn't how you show respect, boy, this is insolence dressed up for an audience. But..." He eyed the veil greedily. "But perhaps I will teach you something in return for the return of that." "Oh really?" Frodo looked for somewhere to sit and was again reminded by the wreckage around him that there was nowhere. "War changes people," said Gandalf slowly. "Falling off a bridge while trying to ride a Balrog changes people. Finding out that you have to climb out from under an entire bloody mountain by yourself because your companions have gone off to have tea with some spider-demon changes people. But the thing is, is that you can accept those changes and become a different person, or you can resent them and fight against them and become a monster instead. Never doing anything right or properly because you're always at war with yourself over what you should be doing." Frodo nodded slowly. "I'm at war with myself?" "You're at war with everyone," said Gandalf. "You never accepted the responsibility you were given, and until you get past that, you're going to hate everything that this world has become." There was a long silence, and finally Frodo spoke again. "And you?" "Me? I have about four more days of bad behaviour to go," said Gandalf. "After that they'll set old Bombadil on me, and I don't want that. "So... tell you what, as of tomorrow, it's back to old Gandalf. Mostly." Frodo nodded, still deep in thought. "And... maybe new Frodo?" "I doubt you'll change that fast," said Gandalf. "But perhaps there can be signs that the pupil has finally listened to the teacher?"
... ah, no, not at all. Shall I pretend to not be surprised?
Anyway, that was an entertaining ride from start to finish, never quite heading where I thought it might. Curious to see what (mostly) old Gandalf gets up to.
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Hmm... I think I have a suitable tale for this....
The teacher
Frodo stalked into the Inn of the New Shire like a Nazgûl with a hangover and glared at the wreckage of the chairs and tables. When they didn't repair themselves, he sighed heavily and leaned on the bar and snarled at the Orc who was polishing shards of glass behind the bar.
"Morning Mr. Frodo," said the Orc putting his bar-towel down. "Mr. Gandalf has broken all the glassware --" there was a slight pause where the word 'again' should have gone, "-- so I'm serving ale in mugs again. Begging your pardon, sir."
Frodo waved an irritated hand and waited. Sure enough, the sound of his name was enough to rouse Gandalf from whatever slumber he had been in, and he emerged from the cellar wreathed in pipe smoke and sparks like an electric balrog during a storm. He raised his staff, and Frodo considered for a moment that he was sure that Gandalf had put Saruman's skull on the end of it, and then he saw who it was.
"Oh," he said. "It's you. I suppose I should have guessed. You still haven't learned respect, have you?"
"You're a terrible teacher," said Frodo. The Orc behind the bar pushed a pewter mug of something yellowish in front of him. It appeared to be dissolving the inside of the mug. "You use that War as an excuse for all the bad behaviour you weren't allowed to indulge in before it. When's it going to stop, Gandalf? How long before we have a normal community again?"
"Hah, you can talk!" Gandalf waved a hand at the Orc who obediently started checking the bottles of spirits. "You were given a simple lesson: take the One Ring of Power to Mount Doom and dispose of it responsibly. From all the reports I've had you treated it as a shopping trip for valuable magical items, an excuse to put a puppet king on a throne, and you murdered Gollum while you were at it."
The Orc pushed a mug of something so alcoholic that the fumes made Frodo's eyes water in front of Gandalf and then crouched down on the floor behind the bar. Frodo and Gandalf stared at one another like cats disputing territory.
"Aragorn is not a puppet king," said Frodo.
"Not your puppet, whelp," said Gandalf. "But I suppose you might not have known that. You did half-inch Ea's Crystal Veil though."
There was a movement you might not have seen if you weren't looking for it, but Gandalf, of course, was. A lacy, crystalline doily of some kind, that might have been a veil if attached properly, clattered onto the bar.
"You're trying to teach me?" Gandalf sounded amused. "This isn't how you show respect, boy, this is insolence dressed up for an audience. But..." He eyed the veil greedily. "But perhaps I will teach you something in return for the return of that."
"Oh really?" Frodo looked for somewhere to sit and was again reminded by the wreckage around him that there was nowhere.
"War changes people," said Gandalf slowly. "Falling off a bridge while trying to ride a Balrog changes people. Finding out that you have to climb out from under an entire bloody mountain by yourself because your companions have gone off to have tea with some spider-demon changes people. But the thing is, is that you can accept those changes and become a different person, or you can resent them and fight against them and become a monster instead. Never doing anything right or properly because you're always at war with yourself over what you should be doing."
Frodo nodded slowly. "I'm at war with myself?"
"You're at war with everyone," said Gandalf. "You never accepted the responsibility you were given, and until you get past that, you're going to hate everything that this world has become."
There was a long silence, and finally Frodo spoke again. "And you?"
"Me? I have about four more days of bad behaviour to go," said Gandalf. "After that they'll set old Bombadil on me, and I don't want that. "So... tell you what, as of tomorrow, it's back to old Gandalf. Mostly."
Frodo nodded, still deep in thought. "And... maybe new Frodo?"
"I doubt you'll change that fast," said Gandalf. "But perhaps there can be signs that the pupil has finally listened to the teacher?"
Greg - should I be worried?
... ah, no, not at all. Shall I pretend to not be surprised?
Anyway, that was an entertaining ride from start to finish, never quite heading where I thought it might. Curious to see what (mostly) old Gandalf gets up to.
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