Not All Who Wander Are Lost... by Kaylee Arafinwiel

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Title: Not All Who Wander Are Lost

Author: Kaylee

Rating: G

Summary: Long after their failed mission, two are reunited with their Masters and have a LOT of explaining to do...  

A/N: My friend Lou and I were discussing the Istari, and then she had to go and...well, never mind. On with the story. I just thought the title might fit. Brief shout out to Fiondil; for those of us who know his fics, there was the tiniest cameo from one! :) ~Kaylee


  Aman, sometime during the Seventh Age of the Sun...        

"My Lords? They are here..." Eonwe sounded uncertain as he stood among the fourteen Valar, each seated on the thrones of their own making. Manwe's eyebrows rose. Uncertainty after all this time from his Chief Maia and Herald? Well, perhaps so. After all, Atar had said things would be different now that the World was to be Remade.      

"Show them in, by all means, Eonwe," he said mildly, as though he'd invited the two over for tea instead of summoning them to stand before the Valar in the Mahanaxar.      

 Eonwe bowed and left the Ring of Doom, re-entering shortly with two figures in tow. What were they wearing? Manwe asked himself silently. Gone were the robes which they had worn at their setting forth so long ago...though, he noted with mild amusement, they still wore blue. They seemed to have eschewed their robes for the particularly singular type of leggings the Secondborn, particularly the youth or the laborers, appeared to favor these days. The blue cloth was immaculate, so they had that in their favour.      

They wore identical white shirts, emblazoned with a logo of a strange figure, a sort of rectangle with white dots upon it. Under this were written words, though Manwe had never bothered to learn the written tongues of the Secondborn, leaving such pursuits to Namo and Orome. He squinted, though, at the white box one of them was carrying.  

It had a most enticing smell coming from it...  

 Namo was staring at the box with interest, and Manwe remembered to his dismay what happened the first time the Doomsman had gotten his hands on strange food as an Incarnate.  

"Alatar. Pallando." Manwe said sharply, and the two figures started, only dimly recognizing the names as theirs.  

"Actually...it's 'Alexander' and 'Paul' now...lord," Alatar said, sounding very young indeed. Pallando...Manwe could not think of him as 'Paul'...looked dismayed. "We're sorry," he said, staring at the ground. "But it was all so interesting..."  

Manwe glanced at Nienna. She rose from her throne and walked over to Pallando, gazing at her former Chief Maia with motherly concern. "What was interesting, child?"  

 "The...the Secondborn, Lady," Pallando replied breathlessly. "We've been integrating with them, learning their ways..." He shifted the box he carried, and the overpowering, enticing scent was wafted among them again.


"Child..." Nienna said, "what...is that?" She pointed to the box, and Alatar reached over to open it.  

"Would you like a slice of pizza, my lords?" he asked hopefully.  

(The end)

 




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