EPIC: A Demigod's Tale by Frodo Baggins

Chapter 11

Gandalf hunkered down on the top of the tower of Orthanc, shivering in the nighttime cold. During the day, there was no shade. He had lost his hat in the battle with Saruman, and the sun had roasted him. But now it was nightfall, and Gandalf faced the problem of not wearing enough layers. To make things worse, the surface of the tower was incredibly hard and uncomfortable to sit on, but there weren't any chairs or anything to rest on. Gandalf hadn't managed to get much sleep up here because he was afraid if he moved around in his sleep too much, he would accidently roll right off the edge of the tower. 

Curse that Saruman, leaving an old man to rot up here like this, Gandalf thought unhappily. He watched as leaves and flower petals blew along in the cold wind. Wait a second...

He studied the clusters of leaves blowing thickly on the zephyr, before a lightbulb illuminated in his head. He stood up and walked to the tower's edge. 

"Excuse me," he called out. He waited as the flower petals whirled about in a flurry before taking on the rough shape of a woman. She said nothing but studied him as she hovered over the edge of the tower. 

"Dear dryad, I need your help," he began, and proceeded to relate Saruman's recent turn to the dark side. Then he asked the dryad if she might be able to find assistance from someone who sympathized with the League of Heroes. 

"This is grave news," the dryad replied solemnly. "But I think I may be able to find someone to provide assistance, Gandalf the Gray."

"Oh, thank goodness," Gandalf breathed out in relief. Help couldn't possibly come too soon.

Another breeze ruffled through the night, and the flower petals dispersed and flowed on the breeze, a messenger of hope for the wizard.