Chapter Text
There’d been many sightings so far, yet not one of them had heard confirmation nor seen this new one with their own eyes.
The stories spoke of a man, almost Elvin in looks, wearing a green cloak and having a wizard’s staff of polished dark wood with ivy carved on it. A man with eyes like the greenest emeralds or the burning of poisonous magical flames and hair like midnight that was silken yet chopped.
The whispers seemed to precede them and follow the man, neither catching the other. Not until Isengard it seemed. When they arrived there he was exactly like the rumours and so much more, just sitting there on the stairs like he was waiting for them. Probably was, was the thought running through Gandalf’s head.
He was just sitting there, slicing pieces off an apple and eating them with cherish.
Gandalf thought there was something wrong with the man but then again wasn’t there with all of the Istari?
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When Pippin looked into the palantír, Aragorn caught a glimpse of something dark in the eyes of the Green Wizard.
When they fought orcs, there was a sneer on his lips. Legolas was almost certain he’d seen blood coating them. Later, much later after the Fellowship had left, a soldier would claim he’d seen the Green Wizard bite into an orc’s neck and tear out its throat.