Magic, Wizards, and Other Special Considerations

For this is what your folk would call magic, I believe; though I do not understand clearly what they mean; and they seem to use the same word of the deceits of the Enemy. But this, if you will, is the magic of Galadriel.”

—Galadriel in JRR Tolkien’s The Fellowship of the Ring

Curiously, for anyone who visits Middle-earth for the first time, there doesn’t seem to be a great deal of magic on display. Gandalf, it’s true, employs fireworks (both as entertainment and as practical magic, when he’s lighting a fire in the middle of a snowstorm far up on a mountainside in the Misty Mountains), but for the most part there’s little magic readily available. Consider:

When Glóin and Óin light a fire in The Hobbit, they use flint and steel, not magic.
When Elrond reads the Moon Letters on the map of the Lonely Mountain possessed by Thorin, he uses ordinary skill (which, apparently, neither Thorin nor Gandalf possess, since they’re both astonished that the map has Moon Runes).
Hobbits are not in possession of magic, save “the ordinary everyday sort” that allows them to escape the notice of most of the creatures of Middle-earth. Bilbo is quite astonished at Gandalf’s abilities to produce fire at a moment’s notice.
The elves of Mirkwood are apparently unable to conjure sufficient magic to guard their gates against escaping hobbits or to at least detect invisible burglars in their midst. With such loose security protocols, you’d think they’d have long ago been invaded by goblins… or something worse.
Even Smaug—as magical a creature as it’s possible to conceive—seems curiously lacking in magic. He relies on his fiery breath, his claws, and his great size to impose fear. The Lake-men, on the other hand, have the ability to speak with birds, which gives Bard the clue to the dragon’s critical weakness.

When Guarding Against Magic

Never Mind About Counterspells

When Gandalf, challenged by the balrog in the depths of Moria, tries to put a counterspell on a door, the balrog replies with a counterspell that is so powerful it bursts the door and brings down the roof of the cavern. Gandalf assumes—mistakenly, it turns out—that the creature has buried itself and its supporting force of orcs. In fact, the logical conclusion of this episode is: Don’t bother with counterspells when you’re confronted with powerful magic. Just run. Fast. Away.

Know What Sort of Magic You’re Dealing With

Middle-earth displays various kinds of magic. Some of it’s benevolent (say, Gandalf’s fireworks, used to entertain hobbits); some of it’s weird but on the whole, good (Galadriel’s mirror, which freaks out Samwise but otherwise is okay); and some of it’s downright awful. For example, when the Fellowship is stranded in the Misty Mountains in the middle of a raging snowstorm, Boromir speculates that this may possibly be the work of Sauron.

“His arm has grown indeed,” remarks Gimli, “ if he can draw snow down from the North to trouble us here three hundred leagues away.”

“His arm has grown long,” replies Gandalf.

Don’t Be Frightened By Magic

Some magic is scary (such as that employed by the Dark Lord) and some of it is just strange. But some of it is, well, a bit out of the ordinary. For example, when the hobbits Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin are staying with Tom Bombadil, they’re exposed to several different kinds of magic, all of it relatively good.

There’s good magic when Tom chastises Old Man Willow and makes the troublesome tree release Merry and Pippin from its grip.
There’s weird magic, when Tom makes clear that the Ring of Power has no power over him.
There’s powerful magic, when Tom forces the barrow wight to release the four hobbits and breaks the spell of the barrow.

The rule to be derived from such encounters is this: Magic comes in all shapes and sizes. Don’t be overly concerned by the form it takes. Just pay attention to what it does.

How to Call on Magic

It’s best to start by recalling Gildor’s words to Frodo: “Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger.” Wizards are the beings of Middle-earth who have the right and the ability to use magic on a daily basis, although there are some others—elves, Dunedain, select dwarves—who take it upon themselves to try. The basic point here is, don’t use what you don’t understand. If you don’t know the words of a spell, don’t try to fake it. Elbereth knows what you’ll accidentally call up!

Magic Is All Around Us

Magic, as anyone in Middle-earth can tell you, isn’t usually a matter of spells and incantations. It’s more a matter of proper appreciation of what you have to work with. Take the Lady Galadriel: When she works “magic” for Sam and Frodo with her mirror, all she does is pour some water in a bowl, breathe on it, and tell them to look. That’s hardly an impressive display of incantational powers. (Of course, it works, and, as is usual in such situations, they see much more than they intend to.)

The Proper Use of Palantiri

“Seeing stones” or palantiri are among the most powerful magical artifacts left by the ancient elves and others. Fëanor created the seeing stones in the distant depths of time, and even wizards are somewhat frightened of them. The palantiri in existence during the War of the Ring were:

THE SEEING STONE OF MORDOR. Controlled by Sauron, this stone could see the other stones and could control, to some extent, what those who looked into them saw.
THE PALANTIR OF ORTHANC. Possessed by Saruman, this stone was originally used for good. But as the white wizard increasingly sank into madness and evil, this palantir came increasingly under the domination of Sauron. In the end, it was appropriated by Aragorn and, by supreme effort, wrenched to his will.
THE PALANTIR OF MINAS TIRITH. One of the seeing stones had been kept in the Tower of the Guard from time immemorial. Denethor, son of Ecthelion, began increasingly to use it during the period prior to the War of the Ring. Sauron, unable to break his will, was nonetheless able to control what he saw, sufficient to drive the steward of Gondor to madness and eventual suicide.

It’s possible that Aragorn, at the end of the War of the Ring, was able to use the palantir to keep track of his friends as they returned to their separate homes in the West. It’s more likely that it is of little use to him. Possibly he and Arwen can use it as a sort of Middle-earth-style big screen television. After all, he can’t look into the palantir of Minas Tirith (it only shows two hands withering in fire); and he can’t look at the palantir of Barad-dûr (it was destroyed during the collapse of the Dark Tower). What’s he going to watch? ESPN?

Wizards’ Staves

Well, it’s not quite like Harry Potter (in which the wand chooses the wizard), but there does seem to be something similar going on in Middle-earth. After all, when Gandalf confronts Saruman in the ruins of Isengard, he tells him that he wants his staff and the Key of Orthanc. “They shall be pledges of your conduct, to be returned later, if you merit them.” Also, apparently footwear is involved, since Saruman sneers, “Later, yes, when you have the keys of Barad-dûr itself, I suppose, and the crowns of seven kings and the rods of the Five Wizards and have purchased yourself a pair of boots many sizes larger than those you wear now!” Aside from what wizards wear for walking, what’s the deal with their staves?

Gandalf himself relies on his staff during his confrontation with Wormtongue at Meduseld. Despite the best efforts of Théoden’s counselor to keep it outside, Gandalf takes his staff into the Golden Hall and there works magic upon the enspelled king. During his confrontation with the balrog on the Bridge of Khazad-dûm, his staff is broken; presumably it’s restored to him by the Lady Galadriel during his long healing in Lothlórien. (This point is never explained; I suppose Tolkien expected readers to work it out on our own.)

Wizards’ staves are clearly key to their magic, and an enterprising hobbit (or anyone else) would be well advised to pay close attention to what these wise beings do with them.

Offensive Magic

Considering the number of fights that they get into, hobbits setting out on adventures would be smart to find someone or something capable of launching magical attacks on dangerous creatures such as goblins and wargs. In The Hobbit, the only person capable of doing so is Gandalf; the dwarves in the party are no help as far as magic is concerned. (Indeed, the dwarves of The Hobbit spend most of their time running away from danger rather than confronting it, and their ability to do so is usually the result of Bilbo or Gandalf’s timely intervention.)

Fireballs

Common though these may be in other magical adventures, the use of fireballs in a hobbit’s world is strictly limited. Perhaps it’s because fireballs tend to kill everything and everyone around them when they explode, including enemies, friends, and innocent bystanders. If you have the capacity to unleash a fireball (and you probably don’t unless you’re a wizard), be sparing of them and use them only for emergencies. If, for instance, your dwarven companions are being interrogated by the Great Goblin while their ponies are being prepared for the goblin knackers, it’s acceptable to launch a fireball that creates a diversion sounding like “several hundred dogs and cats being roasted alive.”

Blasts

When Gandalf, the dwarves, and the hobbit are trapped in fifteen fir trees by a combined force of goblins and wolves, the wizard, in a last desperate blast of magic, prepares to come crashing down amid the goblins and wargs, taking as many of them as he can. He’s providentially saved from going this course by the king of the eagles, who swoops down and grabs him. This is a good course for those bent on suicide. If you want to live a bit longer, you might want to think of a different plan.

Sheets of Fire

In moments of extreme tension, wizards can pull off some pretty spectacular special effects—George Lucas has nothing on Gandalf. Take, for instance, the moment when the balrog challenges the wizard on the Bridge of Khazad-dúm. Gandalf, crying aloud (presumably shouting out the words to a spell), hits the bridge in front of him with his staff, cracking and breaking both of them: the staff and the bridge. A “sheet of flame” flares up. That’s bad news for the balrog, who realizes he’s met his match.

Balrog Fighting Tip

The best kinds of spells to use when fighting a balrog are those that can be launched from a distance. Trying to have a sword fight on a narrow bridge over a bottomless chasm with a creature that’s about ten times taller than you while trying to protect your friends who just want to get the hell out of there… well, that probably won’t end well, will it?

Fiery Trees

When the Fellowship is trapped on the top of a small hill by an attacking force of wolves, Gandalf solves the problem by setting the trees surrounding the hill on fire. It’s hard to see how doing so is going to do any good—the wolves are quite equal to jumping between the tree trunks, and aside from giving the defenders better light to see, it doesn’t really do anything to help—except it does. The wargs are frightened off by the spectacular display, the last arrow of Legolas ignites in the air before plunging into the heart of the wolf chieftain, and the rest of the night passes without incident. So the lesson here is, if you’re threatened with an attack, set the wallpaper on fire. At the very least, it’ll scare the hell out of your opponent.

A Light in the Dark

Gandalf, when push comes to shove, can produce light out of pretty much nothing. When the Fellowship enters the Mines of Moria, he produces a light at the end of his staff. As a wizard, you’d think he’d be able to do a bit more, but any light’s a comfort as the party proceeds. For one thing, it stops them from falling into abandoned wells—as Pippin and Merry almost do at one point. Gandalf’s light, while not technically offensive, offers a guide to others.

Defensive Magic

The most obvious absence in the Fellowship, as any good role player will tell you, is a healer. That is to say, the group needs someone who can take care of battle-earned injuries quickly and efficiently, and without fainting at the sight of blood. Sam is probably the best naturally equipped to deal with this, but it’s Aragorn who falls into the role, because he’s king. This seems logical—a king heals the land as well as his subjects, and he relates to individuals as well as to the whole. Aragorn knows herb lore as well as battle smarts, and thus he’s indicated as the true king of Gondor. The lesson? Anyone who’s as well rounded as Aragorn and as good-looking as Viggo Mortensen is probably good at healing as well as hurting. At any rate, there are an awful lot of women who’d like to let him try.

Healing Magic

Some magic works to heal wounds, whether physical or psychic. In any circumstance in which you might be groping for a band-aid, consider instead trying a healing spell. Of course, it helps if you’re an elf (their race excels in such magic) or a Númenórean king (since the hands of the king are the hands of a healer, as Ioreth of Minas Tirith never ceases to say). In any case, if you’re attempting to heal someone of wounds taken in battle, here are some guidelines.

Athelas Is Pretty Much Good for Anything

It’s also called kingsfoil, asea aronian, and probably some other names. It grows widely and in different climates. Aragorn finds it first in the north to treat Frodo and then in the south to heal Faramir. Whatever the case, it is remarkably simple in its preparation:

Cut some fresh athelas—a bunchful should do the trick in the case of most wounds.
Crush several leaves and rub them together.
Breathe deeply to impress those around you.
Throw the leaves into bowls of steaming (but not boiling) water and let the steam waft through the room.
Tell everyone how much better they feel. Repeat as necessary.

Athelas is considered a common herb and is handy for use with many wounds and ailments: orc spear stab wounds, Morgul knife wounds, exposure to the Black Breath, and just general depression brought on by the Dark Lord and his powers.

Don’t be Afraid to Use Splints

Just because you’re living in a fantasy world doesn’t mean old-fashioned medical methods aren’t going to work. If someone breaks an arm, tie it up tightly in a rigid position and fasten it with a branch or stick so it doesn’t move. Slings are useful to support injured limbs. So are miscellaneous bandages, especially for those who’ve been wounded in the head while slaying forty-two orcs.

Magical Therapy 101

In the case of those who may have succumbed to evil magic (and there’s a lot of that floating around), restorative is indicated. Wizards can perform spells to break evil spirit possession, and the elves are always available to heal the tortured soul, if not through magic directly, then through the long healing arts of the Undying Lands.

Magical Artifacts

We’ve already touched on the palantiri, wrought by Feanor in the depths of the Second Age. Hobbits and their kin are well advised to stay away from objects so powerful. Likewise, there’s no good reason to mess around with the Rings of Power, wizards’ staves, or any of the most ominous magical artifacts that are strewn through Middle-earth.

Galadriel’s Mirror

Sam, naively, asks to see some elf magic, and Galadriel obliges with the mirror. Who wouldn’t want to see a magical mirror that tells the future? It’s a very old fantasy trope: the magical mirror from Snow White, the mirror that tells Beauty that her father is dying and she must leave the Beast to save him. The list goes on and on.

Galadriel’s mirror differs in two ways:

She creates the mirror from water, which means its surface is highly changeable and transient.
She warns both Sam and Frodo that the mirror is unreliable. Most other mirror users don’t acknowledge this fact. Snow White’s wicked queen completely believes the mirror on the wall when it says she’s not the fairest one of all.

The mirror of Galadriel seems to be an artifact that’s bound to her own magical powers; that is to say, it can’t appear without her. Presumably we’d be able to see and use the mirror from Snow White, if we could get the wicked queen away from it for five minutes.

The Mere of Khazad-Dûm

After the Fellowship of the Ring’s horrible experience’s in Moria, including the loss of their leader, a centuries-old wizard who was the only one with a clear idea of how to accomplish the quest of Mount Doom, Gimli’s idea is naturally to take Frodo to look at the Mirrormere. I mean, what else would you do after a disaster of such epic proportions? As it turns out, it’s a spiritual experience for both Frodo and for Sam, who tags along, as usual, uninvited. All Frodo and Sam see when they look in the Mere is a circle of stars, like a crown, encircling the mountains, and no sign of their own reflections. On the whole, the Mirrormere is pretty disappointing, making Galadriel’s mirror appear even more impressive.

The Phial of Galadriel

For someone with the perception of a five thousand-year-old elf princess/queen, you’d think she’d be better at giving momentous gifts. She gives Frodo Baggins an incredibly important, valuable gift at the crucial stage of his quest (“it stands upon a knife blade”) and doesn’t explain how to use it. Fortunately for him, he has some instincts in the matter, realizing that when you wield magical elf objects, the best thing is to accompany them with magical elf words such as Elbereth Githoniel. This works in the lair of Shelob, again in the tower of Cirith Ungol, but not so much in the depths of Mount Doom. Later in the story, Frodo gives Sting to Sam, as well as his suit of elf mail, which he got from Bilbo. But he never explains what he did with the Phial of Galadriel, which Sam faithfully carried for him in Mordor. Could it be that Frodo takes it with him to the Undying Lands? (Where, one would think, it would be sort of pointless.)

The Rings of Power

We know, in the end, that Elrond held Vilya, the most important of the three elven rings; Gandalf held Narya the Great; and Galadriel held Nenya, a ring created of mithril which Frodo and Sam saw for the first time in Lothlórien (Sam actually thought it was a star seen through Galadriel’s fingers). With the three elven rings, we approach the essence of magical power in Middle-earth. With these rings, the three mightiest magical figures of the age created and maintained the world. The lesson for those of hobbit persuasion setting off on adventure seems clear: Make friends with Ringbearers. Good things come to those who are loyal and see adventures through to the end. In fact, in the case of Samwise Gamgee, bearing a ring for a while guarantees the possibility of leaving the Grey Havens and traveling over the Sundering Seas to the Undying Lands. And that’s not a bad reward for a life well lived.

The Cracks of Doom

Well, okay. The Cracks of Doom, in the middle of Mount Doom, are a really evil, crappy place to wind up, especially after weeks of traveling on limited rations and practically no water. We get that. But the Cracks are also the ancient forges of Sauron. Really? Seriously? How does he do it? How does he create the most powerful magical artifacts in the history of Middle-earth out of a couple of chasms in a mountain tunnel? In point of fact, Sauron has magical powers that are centered on the Cracks of Doom and the Ring, and it doesn’t do anyone any good to mess with them.

Magical Beings

If you’re setting off on an adventure, you can certainly expect to encounter magical creatures of varying powers and attitudes. These range from the ordinary (elves) to the surprising (trolls) to the epic (Ringwraiths). The average adventurer, in order to live a comfortable life, should be prepared to deal with each of these.

Elves

By the time certain hobbits start having adventures, elves have become relatively rare—almost as rare as dwarves and hobbits. Most of them are leaving Middle-earth, on their way to the West, and they aren’t interested in being bothered. Elves are a bit like the French: They once had a great empire, are still unreasonably proud of it, and don’t care to talk about what happened to it. They enjoy a lot of magic, more than most other races of Middle-earth, but it’s not very helpful in the day-to-day.

Dwarves

Dwarves possess very little magic, partly it would seem from living so physically close to the earth. Still, no one is better at getting a fire started, even in rainy weather, and that’s pretty magical. Dwarves are also good at finding their way about underground and at fixing broken stonework. These are some excellent talents that others should emulate.

Men

The men of Númenor are about the only magical figures left among men. Besides being long-lived, they remember ancient magic from the days of Númenor and Gondolin. Aragorn, however, throughout The Lord of the Rings, comes across as singularly unmagical. Bard of Lake-town, on the other hand, understands the languages of thrushes, a language that gives him a considerable advantage in the battle with Smaug.

Hobbits

Hobbits are about the least magical race one can imagine. Though in The Hobbit it’s said that they boast “ordinary magic” that allows them to vanish when the “Big People” come blundering along, we’re also told that their abilities to vanish are actually just a highly developed hiding capacity “so that to humans it may look magical.” As a rule, hobbits don’t like magic very much, unless it’s the kind used at a child’s birthday party.

Ask yourself the following questions to determine which of Middle-earth’s races you most resemble:

When confronted by a dangerous situation do you:
1. roll up your sleeves and prepare for battle
2. think back on the long line of your ancestors who fought evil and compose an epic poem about it
3. take a deep draft of mead, sharpen your axe, and smile
4. lock the door, turn up the light, and go to bed with some extra covers.
If you could obtain a chest of gold, you’d:
1. say, “Great!” and start spending your newfound money
2. reject gold, since you’re above money
3. bury the gold safely, with many spells and enchantments, so you can come back and retrieve it at a future date
4. ignore it. It’s probably Evil Enchanted Gold anyway.
In talking to a dragon, you’d probably:
1. be constantly thinking about soft points, as well as how to get away so I can relay that information to others
2. wouldn’t say anything; why would I be talking to anything like a dragon anyway?
3. be very clever, ferreting out as much information about the beast’s hoard as possible, or
4. Dragon? What dragon? I see no dragon. After all, if I can’t see it, it can’t see me.

If you answered mostly:

You’re human.
You’re an elf. An annoying elf.
You’re a dwarf.
You’re a hobbit. If there’s an adventure, you’d prefer to be left out of it.

Good Wizard or Bad Wizard

There are five wizards in Middle-earth (Gandalf the Grey; Saruman the White; Radagast the Brown; and two others unnamed, whom Tolkien mentioned in later correspondence as “Blue”). Saruman is evil in the latter part of his life, and Gandalf is “the enemy of Sauron”—in other words, the epitome of good. However, it’s not always easy to tell a good wizard from a bad wizard.

To determine whether a wizard is bad or good, uncover their opinions on the following questions:

Are men hopelessly corrupt and weak, and do they require a strong hand to guide them and keep them from getting into trouble?
In the interest of the Greater Good, is it okay to sacrifice numerous members of lesser races (including Ents, elves, and hobbits)?
Is the most important thing in the world:
1. order
2. security
3. an almost fanatical devotion to our lord and master Sauron the Great
4. the peace and happiness of the races of the West
In securing the safety of the peoples of Middle-earth, would you be prepared to:
1. enslave them
2. help someone else enslave them
3. take on the burden of bearing the One Ring, though it would be a tremendous personal sacrifice
4. sacrifice your own safety and comfort?
Elves are:
1. an annoyance
2. an anachronism
3. food
4. the bearers of ancient wisdom.

If the wizard answers “yes” to the first two questions and anything but (d) to the remaining four, run. Run fast.

One of the confusing things about wizards is that they tend to look alike. Gandalf and Saruman, for instance, are both old men who wear robes of white (although Saruman’s robe isn’t really white, if you look at it closely enough; it shimmers and seems to incorporate all color). You cannot trust appearance alone, so probe deeper. For example:

If the wizard is riding on a shining white horse and is followed by an army of animate trees, he’s good.
If the wizard is ragged, unkempt, and clinging to a tobacco pouch with the monogram “M.B.”, he’s bad.
If the wizard is riding on the back of an eagle, he’s good.
If the wizard is slinking around the edges of a forest, he’s bad.
If the wizard is in command of a giant army of orcs and wargs laying waste to everything they see, he’s bad. Stay out of his way.

Wizards are ancient spirits of Middle-earth (called “Maiar”). What other creatures encountered in Tolkien’s works are Maiar in a different form?

Elves
Hobbits
Balrogs
Dragons
Orc chieftains

The answer is c, balrogs.

Don’t Make a Wizard Angry

Wizards are notoriously short-tempered. It’s easy to tell when a wizard is angry, because he starts growling, his eyebrows bristle, he stops answering questions, and he gives short, sharp puffs on his pipe. He also stops blowing smoke rings and becomes snappish. On the other hand, a happy wizard laughs, plays practical jokes on his friends, and eats and drinks a lot. Especially drinks. A lot.

The Magic of Wizards

Every wizard has his own special type of magic. Gandalf’s, for instance, is fire based: He can create fire from pretty much nothing; his fireworks are legendary; and he can set treetops on fire to repel an attack by magical wolves. Saruman, on the other hand, in his latter, evil phase, can corrupt the hearts of men using his voice. Even when Saruman’s powers have been largely taken away from him and his staff is broken, his voice can still move men—and hobbits—to evil. Radagast is a master of shapes and hues and can talk to birds and beasts. So the wise hobbit will learn to use all the strengths and weaknesses of wizards, and avoid irritating them unnecessarily.

Elf Magic

Aside from the magic displayed by Galadriel’s mirror for the benefit of Frodo and Sam, there’s not much elf magic on offer in Middle-earth. That is, unless you look a little closer. Elves have an inherent magical quality; after all, they’re immortal beings, blessed by the Valar, which makes them magical to begin with. Those places most infested with elves acquire a magical quality that lingers long after the elves have gone. The enterprising adventurer will seek out these places and benefit from the remnants of magical power there.

Lothlórien

This is, perhaps, the most magical place in all of Middle-earth: the Golden Wood, ruled by Galadriel and her consort, Celeborn. Outsiders can perceive the power there, and it’s viewed with great concern by Sauron, but he can do nothing directly to combat it. (Lothlórien is, effectively, the counterpart of Dol Guldur, Sauron’s former fastness in southern Mirkwood.) Should an adventurer visit Lothlórien, he will find his hurts healed and his spirit renewed. He’ll also spend a lot more time there than he bargained for, since time flows very quickly and slowly in this land. What might seem a few weeks will turn out to be several months. If you have an urgent errand to carry out, Lothlórien might be a good place to avoid. However, if you want to view the heart of elfdom in Middle-earth, this is the place to go.

Post-Galadriel Lothlórien

When Galadriel leaves Middle-earth on the same boat that carries Gandalf, Bilbo, and Frodo, much of the magic leaves the Golden Wood, though Celeborn stays there for a while. Places such as Lothlórien are few and far between, but the magic in them is so strong that even today you can find it in remote wooded glades and the depths of primeval forests.

Mirkwood

If you happen to stray into Mirkwood the Great, be advised not to leave the path to chase will-o’-the-wisp lights. If you’re searching for the elves who inhabit this great forest, don’t worry, they’ll find you first. Elves in this forbidding wood often feast in the forest, especially in the late autumn. Outsiders definitely aren’t welcome and are likely to find themselves wandering in the dark, bumping into spiders if they try to interrupt an elven feast. The lesson is: Wait for an invitation. If the elves want to talk to you, they’ll find a way. After all, you’re on their turf now.

Elf Gifts

If, by chance, you’re lucky enough to spend some time with the elves, these gracious hosts may give you some very handy parting gifts. Treasure them. Some examples:

A scabbard for your sword that ensures your sword won’t ever be broken or tarnished. That’s got to be good.
A box of magical dust that enables you to grow a garden in record time.
A vial containing pure light, which you can shine in moments of despair and darkness (until you get really close to the enemy, in which case the vial becomes useless).
Some hairs from the head of an elf queen. They’ll be useful for… well, I’m sure they’ll be helpful at some point.
Belts. They keep your trousers up when you haven’t eaten a decent meal in weeks.

Dwarf Magic

Dwarves aren’t a particularly magical race; most of their magic is devoted to finding their way around dark mines and tunnels and delving for precious stones and metals. Not that such things aren’t useful—it’s just that dwarves aren’t obviously magical the way that elves are, the big show-offs!

If you want to see some dwarf magic, go to one of the following places.

The Bridge of Khazad-dûm

Strictly speaking, this is more a feat of engineering than of magic. A single span of stone, jumping more than fifty feet over a bottomless chasm. It has no rails and is very narrow, allowing trespassers into the underground realm to cross only in single file (and be picked off by dwarf archers on the far side). However, we might pause to ask how such a bridge could possibly support the weight of dwarves, elves, humans, hobbits, and in an extreme case, a balrog. The answer seems pretty clearly to be magic, especially when Gandalf, fighting the balrog, uses magic to break the bridge. If the dwarves, after returning to Moria upon the defeat of Sauron, rebuilt the bridge, visiting it is certainly an adventure to put on your bucket list.

The Mirrormere

We mentioned this earlier. Not, perhaps, the most exciting place, but if you’re doing a tour of Dwarf Magical Sites, it’s not to be missed.

The Lonely Mountain

Again, this is less about magic than about a famous site of a magical battle. It was the refuge of Smaug after he smoked out the dwarves and took over their kingdom. And it was also the location of the Battle of Five Armies, fought between elves, dwarves, men, orcs, and wargs. Gandalf, who was present at the battle, seems to have refrained from any last-minute blasts of magic, but there’s probably plenty of magical energy lingering on the surrounding countryside. After the battle, the mountain became the site of a dwarf kingdom, ruled by Dáin Ironfoot (eventually killed in battle with Sauron’s forces during an outlying battle of the War of the Ring), and there are plenty of things to see and do if you care to visit there.

Miscellaneous Magical Sites

Middle-earth has plenty of magic for anyone who looks for it. So does the rest of the world, for that matter. The trick is to look in the right places. Places that have been the sites of great battles. Places that are associated with ancient artifacts. Places that have been the location of great evil or good. Among such places in Middle-earth, we mustn’t leave out the following.

Weathertop

Once the great fortress of Amon-sul, this is now a sad, lonely ruin on a mountaintop that surveys the surrounding countryside. It was the site of an epic confrontation between the Ringwraiths and Frodo and Aragorn, and some of the old magic lingers. Anyone trying to reach Rivendell won’t want to pass this mountain without climbing it and, perhaps, spending a night in the dell below the peak.

Meduseld

The Golden Hall, foundation of the nation of Rohan, and former seat of Théoden, son of Thengel (and later the seat of Eomer, son of Eomund). What little magic the Riders of Rohan have is centered on horses, their first love. In the Golden Hall, you’ll find many tributes to the close bond that exists between the people of Rohan and their steeds, including the mearas, the greatest horses in all Middle-earth. Generally, alert and enterprising adventurers can talk to or at least understand the speech of most animals. This is especially true of the Riders of Rohan and their horses. The skill may not be technically magical, but it’s extremely useful in battle.

Isengard

The fortress of Saruman was largely destroyed by Ents during the War of the Ring, but they couldn’t damage the tower of Isengard itself, which is certainly magical and designed to withstand any assault, magic or otherwise. Isengard consists of a large rock ring, within which are avenues leading to the tower at the center. This, in turn, divides into two towers as it rises, and between the towers at the top is a narrow platform, inscribed with mystic symbols, the sort of thing wizards like to meditate on. Below, there are all sorts of tunnels and caverns, probably reeking with magic, though not the sort of magic you’d care to mess with. The keys of Orthanc (another name for Isengard) are in the care of the king of Gondor.