Sam watches him. He doesn't trust that one.
"We are all on the same side, yes," Gandalf nods, his busy brows falling low over his eyes and shading them as his white glow dims in the small enclosure of Samwise the Third's kitchen table. "But does that mean we all have the same objectives?"
"These... silmarillion," Luke says. "We have to have them."
"I'm afraid that is out of the question," Gandalf replies. "I cannot trust them falling into the wrong hands."
"That is exactly why I want them at the Temple. Where they're secure."
"Where your father killed dozens of children? Is that the security you're talking about?" interrupts Sam.
"Watch it, half-pint," says the piratey-one in the vest. "Kids should be seen and not heard."
"It's okay, Han, I've got this," Luke says.
Sam holds tight to the table and grits his teeth, watching the one called Luke close his eyes, slowly, and open them.
"My father made mistakes," he says. "But so did you."
"The mere making of the rings let loose forces that we are still trying to combat here on our world, and it has taken centuries for me to make this place habitable and round them up. When the rings were forged," Gandalf sighs, "we had no idea what power was actually being used. We thought it was power within us, within the elves, within the dwarves, within Sauron. It was not."
"I know," Luke responds. He takes a sip of his beer, the hobbit-mug looking tiny in his hands. "We all thought, at first, that the Force was a mystical presence that surrounded us. We didn't know it was life forms."
"And you didn't suspect, either..." Gandalf pauses. His eyes are fully closed. He looks tired.
"That they were sentient?" Luke shakes his head. "I had no idea."
"Look," Han interjects. "I'm getting tired of this mumbo-jumbo. We've tracked the source of this disturbance thing Luke is talking about to your world, you've admitted you've got these Silmarillion things, and whether you like it or not, you're part of the New Republic. Luke here's a Jedi, so hand them over."
"I cannot," Gandalf says.
Beneath the table, his foot taps Sam's a few times. Sam looks away from Han, who he dislikes even more, and up at Gandalf.
Run, Gandalf mouths.
"What was that all about," Han says, and stands up, blaster in hand, Luke reaching to stop his old friend from doing something foolish but Gandalf is even faster and his staff comes arcing down, white lightning trailing from it as it impacts the end of the blaster, which has already started to shoot. The gun crumbles into trailing embers, Han letting go as it disintegrates and shaking his hand, which is already red from the burning.
As that happens, the laser bolt strikes Gandalf squarely in the chest and Sam, not running, yells "No!" but Gandalf only nods at him.
"Samwise, did you think I could be killed by light?"
Luke is now standing, half-crouched. They all are up, the table still between them.
"I'm sorry about my friend," Luke tells Gandalf. "But he's right. I need those rings."
"This I can not do."
"They no longer exist."
The silence in the kitchen seems to go on forever, and Sam remembers what Gandalf said. He edges back just a little bit.
Gandalf appears to be growing fuzzier in his outline -- brighter, but less distinct. It is as if he is made up of millions, billions, of tiny dots, dots that glow and hum and buzz and flit about in the shape of a Gandalf -- and he raises his dot-made head, pixillated and strange, to finally open his eyes and stare at Luke.
They all gasp, except for Gandalf. The eyes are bright, bright yellow and illuminate the kitchen as though the sun itself were in Gandalf's head.
"I found all the Silmarillion," he says.
"And when I did," he continues, "I began to study them and realized what we had done: trapped, in the rings, in all the rings, billions of sentient beings. And when I realized that, and I thought of the ring we had thrown into the fire, I began to cry. I was not Gandalf the White anymore. I was Gandalf The Genocidal. And so I vowed to free the beings, the inhabitants, the midichlorians, from the rings. I studied and studied and studied and one day, I found a method that would let me break the seal on the rings, to let these tiny, powerful beings out and free them."
The yellow glow fades, and then rises as Gandalf becomes more fractured looking. Sam realizes he is also growing larger, looming now in the confines of the kitchen.
"And they were angry," Gandalf finishes.
His eyes suddenly turned black as night.
That's all the time I've got today. I'm going to take the boys and Sweetie to look at Cows On The Concourse, where the farmers bring their cows up to Capitol Square for people to look at.
I will be reposting the poems from yesterday's question throughout today and tomorrow and updating scores as I do so, so keep posted. But for now, COWS, we're comin'!
"Blue Milk" won the 2006 award for best Star Wars fan film. Who directed it, and what was the first fan movie he directed?
1. The question is worth 1,000 points if you're the first commenter. It's worth an addtional 1,000 points for each place of comment you leave -- so if, for example, you leave two comments before answering and answer in the 3rd, it's worth 3,000.
2.Mention Andrew Leon's class' book on your blog, get 1,000 points (leave me a link.)
3. You get 15,000 points for finding and posting in the comments a link to a working video of "Blue Milk." This is not that video. I mean the fan film.