13. Conversations with Allies

A/N: You're back! Marvellous. I hope your fingers aren't too sore from that cliffhanger in the last chapter. Thank you once again to Illogical Human, Jozko Mrkvicka and Realworld no Shinobi for your excellent reviews.

'I suspect,' Gandalf said, 'that Elrond will soon make an attempt to dissuade us, definitively, from going any further in our quest.'

Thorin threw up his arms - he'd been saying exactly this since the Lone-lands - but let the Wizard continue.

'Therefore I think it would be wise not to outstay our welcome. You should all gather your belongings and be ready to leave - discreetly - before first light.'

'Which way do we leave?' Dwalin said. 'We cannot go back the way we came, that'll just take us back through the valley. We'll lose time.'

'There is a gate off the northwest garden,' Gandalf said. 'It is the furthest distance from the main grounds and so is seldom visited during the day, and virtually never in the night. It lies just beyond a waterfall by a statue of an enchantress. You cannot miss it.'

'Well, you'll know the way at any rate,' Bilbo said, before catching Gandalf's ambivalent expression. 'You will lead us out, won't you?'

'I will be right behind you,' he said, 'but if I stay here into the daylight hours I may be able to occupy Elrond for long enough that he will not notice your departure immediately. That ought to give you a good head start. I will catch up to you in the Misty Mountains as soon as I can get away.'

'Right then,' Dwalin nodded. 'Thorin?'

'A good plan,' the leader agreed, eyes downcast in thought. 'But one question remains.'

'Oh?' Gandalf said.

'Will Miss Stokes be coming with us?' He raised his eyes to her, standing on the threshold at the edge of the company. 'Or are you staying with the Elves?'

The others looked her way. Sarah reflexively turned to a blank spot in her sketchbook before realizing she didn't actually know what to write. Her pencil hovered over the paper. She looked to Bilbo, to Gandalf, to Kili.

'They haven't found a door back to your world,' Thorin said. 'Perhaps one day they will, but we cannot afford to wait while they exhaust all possibilities. You can. That is, unless you wish to carry on with us.'

Sarah remembered what Kili had said about the way Thorin saw her. This was almost certainly a test of her loyalty. She checked her watch: still two hours until midnight. Elrond's tone had been maddeningly enigmatic, but also enticing with promise.

'You have travelled well, lass,' Balin said, 'but life on the road will only get harder from here on out. No one would judge you if you'd prefer to stay where it is safe and where, I hope, you find the answers you need.'

Dwalin, Nori and Dori were quick to nod and affirm the truth of Balin's words.

'Oh, but … well,' Bofur said, looking disappointed, 'it's just been quite nice having you around. An extra pair of hands for all the daily chores, that's never a bad thing.'

'And what if we run into more trolls?' Ori said with a small smile. 'Who'll scare them off then?'

Bilbo and Kili kept quiet, but looked at her longingly. The other Dwarves seemed non-partisan, ready to accept whatever answer Sarah would give. If only she knew.

I haven't decided yet, she wrote at last.

'You don't have long,' Thorin said. 'As Gandalf said, we'll leave before first light. Without delay.'

She nodded. Understood. She watched as Gandalf departed via the left staircase, followed by Thorin a while later, and the Dwarves began - slowly, so as not to arouse suspicion - packing up their things. Sarah watched them, and the hours. She'd barely unpacked anything in her room, so if the meeting with Elrond led nowhere she could still get herself out of her dress and back into her jeans in a matter of minutes.

If she wanted to go. Did she want to go?

Balin wasn't wrong: the journey would only get harder and downright scarier from here. What if she turned into more of a hindrance than help, and the Dwarves sent her back to Rivendell anyway?

Sarah turned these thoughts over and over in her head, achieving nothing except a heightened sense of anxiety, until she heard Gandalf and Elrond's voices carry from one of the bridges below. She edged to the top of the staircase; Bilbo was listening too, from the bottom step.

'Well of course I was going to tell you … eventually,' Gandalf was saying. 'And really, I think you can trust that I know what I am doing.'

'Do you?' Elrond retorted. 'That dragon has slept for sixty years. What will happen if your plan should fail? If you wake that beast?'

'What if we succeed? If the Dwarves take back the mountain, our defences in the East will be strengthened.'

They turned off the bridge and drew near the base of the tower where the Dwarves were situated. Wait a minute - Sarah checked her watch again - it was twenty minutes to midnight. She gasped without sound. Elrond's midnight meeting wasn't just any meeting, he was inviting her to sit in on the meeting of the White Council.

'Sarah,' Elrond called up. 'Excellent timing. Please, won't you join us?'

Bilbo and Thorin both glanced back at her from the shadows. Elrond's voice had also captured the other Dwarves' attention, the question of what he had in store for her plain on their faces. She kept her own face composed, remembering from the film that this meeting would drag on all night. Gandalf wouldn't be able to get away before dawn, and neither would she.

She raised a hand and waved down. One moment, please.

The Dwarves' fire was still alight, but winding down a little, just enough to keep their faces aglow. She didn't have time to give them the farewells and explanations she wanted, so she settled on whatever she could think of in the moment. She swept her arms in an arc, articulating each word precisely:

I wish you all the luck in the world. She clasped both hands over her heart. My friends.

Then, before courage deserted her, and because she'd probably never get the chance again, Sarah planted a quick kiss on Kili's cheek. As Fili was standing directly on her other side she kissed his cheek too, for good measure. So long, sweet princes.

She hurried down the stairs without looking back but, from the clatter and spirited laughter that sounded behind her, she inferred that Kili had fallen off his chair.

Sarah gave Bilbo's shoulder a fleeting but meaningful squeeze, and looked to Thorin for possibly the last time. There was so much she wanted to say, and no time to say it in. So she said nothing, and neither did he. Oh God, he was going to take this as proof that she'd chosen the Elves over his kin after all. That she was content to sever her ties to the company just as they'd started to strengthen.

'Are you ready?' Elrond asked her. Sarah nodded, though it was mostly a lie. Literally and figuratively in the dark, she followed him and Gandalf back towards the bridge. 'I still believe this is a dangerous move, Gandalf.'

'It is also dangerous to do nothing,' Gandalf said. 'Oh come, the throne of Erebor is Thorin's birthright. What is it you fear?'

'Have you forgotten? A strain of madness runs deep in that family. His grandfather lost his mind. His father succumbed to the same sickness. Can you swear Thorin Oakenshield will not fall? Gandalf, these decisions do not rest with us alone. It is not up to you, or me, to redraw the map of Middle Earth.'

They ascended a familiar white stone staircase, water cascading beside them.

'With or without our help,' Gandalf reminded Elrond, 'these Dwarves will march on the mountain. They're determined to reclaim their homeland. I do not believe Thorin Oakenshield feels that he's answerable to anyone. Nor for that matter am I.'

'But it's not me you must answer to,' Elrond said, as they reached the top of the steps and entered the circular meeting tower, lit by soft white lamps. Sarah stopped just as suddenly as Gandalf did.

Between the revelations about Tolkien and her indecision over whether to stay or go, Sarah had all but forgotten that Galadriel would grace them with her presence. Such poise! Such radiance! If anyone deserved the prefix of "galand" or "light" it was her, not Sarah.

'Mithrandir,' she said, her voice rich with time and wisdom. She greeted Gandalf in Elvish, and he bowed deeply.

'I had no idea Lord Elrond had sent for you,' he said.

'He didn't,' came Saruman's voice. 'I did.'

'Saruman,' Gandalf said, clearly not expecting quite such a busy meeting.

Oh fuck, Sarah thought, before hastily imagining a white paint roller over every swear word that crossed her mind. She'd been fine up until now, relying on her voicelessness not to betray her foreknowledge of Middle Earth's timeline. But now she was in the presence of, as Elrond had said, one of the noblest and most powerful Elves to ever live, someone who could dip into her thoughts as easily as a hand into a pond. She'd have to be careful. Really careful. Take it one thought at a time, box it up, give nothing away.

That is, if she hadn't already — Galadriel and Saruman were both looking at her. Oh dear. Ohhhh dear.

'You've been busy of late, my friend,' Saruman said. Understatement of the year.

Gandalf turned to Elrond. 'Have you already told him, about … ?'

'Your galandrandir?' Saruman supplied. 'Yes. It takes a great deal to surprise me, but you have managed it. What an intriguing event. The arrival of a new galandrandir, and the first female. Some explanations are in order.'

'Yes,' Gandalf said, resigning himself to a long night ahead. 'I suppose they are.'

He and Saruman took seats at opposite ends of the oval table in the centre of the court, while Sarah and the Elves remained standing. Sarah kept as still as possible, hoping that as they talked about and around her, her physical presence would fade into the background, where it was safe.

Gandalf recounted how Sarah had accidentally found her way into the Shire and lost her voice along the way. He skipped all but the salient details of their journey to Rivendell, saying only that Sarah had travelled alongside the company of Thorin Oakenshield for a few weeks, unable to communicate much.

'And you thought nothing of bringing this strange young woman in such close proximity to danger?' Saruman said. Sarah knew he was using "strange" to mean "outsider", but it still rubbed her the wrong way.

'Sarah has proved herself quite capable of surviving danger as well as any of us,' Gandalf rebuffed on her behalf. 'And even were this not so, I cannot see what alternative we had — it's not as if anyone from Hobbiton would have accompanied her here.'

'What I fail to understand,' Elrond said, 'is why now. Why, after over a thousand years, are we suddenly graced with a wanderer from another world?'

'I think it is a sign,' Gandalf said. 'An auspicious one, at that. She arrived on the eve of the Dwarves' quest. That cannot be mere coincidence.'

'Of course it can be a coincidence,' Saruman chided. 'You simply choose not to interpret it as such.'

'Perhaps we are both reading too much into this, Gandalf,' Elrond wondered. 'Not even Sarah herself knows the reason - if any - she should land in Middle Earth at all, let alone at this particular point in time.'

Are you certain of that?

Galadriel's voice came into her head like sunlight through curtains. Sarah tried not to look as unsettled as she felt. She dared to meet the Elf Queen's eye. Was that a rhetorical question?

Do not be alarmed, strange lander. You have nothing to fear from me.

Sarah would have to take her word for it.

'A stranger in a strange land,' Galadriel said, out loud. 'The one who came before you did not intend to cross into our world either. Not the first time.'

'The first?' Elrond echoed. 'I did not know he returned a second time.'

'What you thought was his first visit was, in fact, his second,' Galadriel corrected. 'On his first crossing, he had been wounded in one of the bloodiest battles his world had ever witnessed. During a period of recuperation, he lay in the dark and prayed, repeatedly, for some respite from the nightmares he lived in sleeping and waking hours alike. Where the higher powers of his world failed to listen, ours succeeded.'

In battle? Sarah shifted the word from Middle Earth back to Earth. Oh God, of course — Tolkien had fought in the trenches. He must have felt like the world was ending too, only much faster and more violently.

Indeed. 'John and Sarah hail from the same world,' Galadriel continued, 'but different ages, and very different upheavals. Sarah's presence in Middle Earth may well be a sign, Mithrandir, or it may have nothing to do with your quest at all. Sarah yearned to escape her world, and so it came to pass.'

'Perhaps, my lady,' Gandalf mused. 'Perhaps.'

Sarah couldn't deny that. But she'd hardly been the only one yearning. If everyone fell through a mystery door into another world when their current one was too much to bear, Earth would be empty. Why her? What was she to these people, some kind of "Chosen One"? God help us all.

'But in any case,' Gandalf continued, 'let us put aside whatever brought her here in the first place and focus on the fact that Sarah ultimately wishes to return to her world. Correct me if I am mistaken, but you were the only witness to John's return, were you not?'

'I was.'

'How did he do it?'

'He walked through the same door that brought him here.' Galadriel held up a hand in anticipation of further questions from both Gandalf and Sarah. 'It did not appear in the same place. Nor did it appear at his bidding, or mine. One day it was simply there.'

'You have no control over when and where these mysterious doors appear,' Saruman surmised.

'Even my powers do not extend to such heights,' Galadriel said neutrally. 'Some days prior to John's return, however, I awoke to a small golden key in the palm of my hand.'

'Has any such key come to you recently?' Elrond asked. Galadriel shook her head, and Sarah's heart sank.

'Do not lose hope,' the Elf Queen told her. 'I do not know precisely when your door will reappear but, from what John and I learned, it will be whenever you find meaning in your time here. When you have banished the darkness from your soul.'

Sarah wasn't the only one who stared at Galadriel just then. Find meaning? Banish darkness? Great. Talk about a wide net.

I wish I could offer you more, strange lander. But this is all I have.

Oops, Sarah thought. Sorry. She tried to hold on to the slivers of hope between Galadriel's words. It wasn't about if the door reappeared, but when. Could be today, tomorrow, fifty years from now ... okay yikes, let's not go there.

Sarah finally remembered to use her sketchbook, so she and Galadriel weren't just conferring with each other. In the meantime, where does that leave me? What should I do?

It felt like such a naïve question to pose, but she was tired, and it was the most honest one she had. Someone, please, just tell me where to go next.

'We already know what one person thought you should do,' Elrond said, looking knowingly at Gandalf. 'To follow the company of Thorin Oakenshield, through goodness only knows what sort of hazardous terrain, in their attempt to take back the Lonely Mountain. As if it were not only the Dwarves' destiny to reclaim it, but your destiny to keep silent vigil over them.'

And so the discussion circled back to the merits and drawbacks of the quest. Elrond looked relieved to have someone of Saruman's standing on his side, in the (very much misplaced) hope that Gandalf might yet come to his senses. Galadriel circled the table slowly, deep in thought but acutely tuned in to everything around her. Sarah tried not to stare at her too often, but it wasn't easy — she was breathtaking.

Thank you.

Jesus Christ, Stokes. Get a hold of yourself.

'Tell me, Gandalf,' Saruman said, 'did you think these plans and schemes of yours would go unnoticed?'

'Unnoticed? No … I'm simply doing what I feel to be right.'

The sky was beginning to change, gold and grey bleeding into the court. The lamps died down. Bilbo and the Dwarves were probably— nope. Nope. Stop right there. Don't— think about something else. Quick.

Sarah glanced at Galadriel, but she seemed too preoccupied with Gandalf's thoughts to register hers: 'The dragon has long been on your mind.'

'It is true, my lady. Smaug owes allegiance to no one. But if he should side with the enemy, the dragon could be used to terrible effect.'

'What enemy?' Saruman said. 'Gandalf, the enemy is defeated. Sauron is vanquished. He can never regain his full strength.'

'Gandalf,' Elrond sighed. 'For four hundred years we have lived in peace. A hard-won, watchful peace.'

'Are we?' Gandalf challenged, his energy undeterred by the creeping dawn. 'Are we at peace? Trolls have come down from the mountains. They are raiding villages, destroying farms. Orcs have attacked us on the road.'

'Hardly a prelude to war,' Elrond said.

'Always you must meddle,' Saruman said. 'Looking for trouble where none exists.'

'Let him speak,' Galadriel said, softly but firmly.

'There is something at work beyond the evil of Smaug,' Gandalf said. 'Something far more powerful. We can remain blind to it, but it will not be ignoring us, that I can promise you. A sickness lies over the Greenwood. The woodsmen who live there now call it "Mirkwood", and they … they say …'

'Well, don't stop now,' Saruman said drily. 'Tell us what the woodsmen say.'

'They speak of a Necromancer,' Gandalf said, as if tasting something bitter, 'living in Dol Guldur. A sorcerer who can summon the dead.'

'That's absurd. No such power exists in this world.' Saruman paused and suddenly glanced beyond Gandalf's shoulder to Sarah.

She hastily scribbled a reply: Nor in mine.

'This "Necromancer" is nothing more than a mortal man. A conjurer dabbling in black magic.'

'And so I thought too. But Radagast has seen—'

'Radagast? Do not speak to me of Radagast the Brown. He's a foolish fellow.'

'Well, he's odd, I grant you. He lives a solitary life.'

'It's not that,' Saruman said with contempt. 'It's his excessive consumption of mushrooms. They've addled his brain and yellowed his teeth. I warned him. It is unbefitting, an Istar wandering the woods in circles, communing with creatures no more sophisticated than crows and hedgehogs.'

As he spoke, the look Galadriel cast towards Gandalf was not lost on Sarah. She was encouraging him to bring out the blade that Radagast had retrieved from Dol Guldur.

'Are you even listening, Gandalf?' Saruman said. 'Am I talking to myself?'

His mood shifted when Gandalf set the clothbound blade in the middle of the table with a thud.

'What is that?' Elrond said, approaching slowly.

'A relic of Mordor,' Galadriel said.

Elrond tensed when he unwrapped the cloth. 'A Morgul blade.'

'Made for the Witch-King of Angmar, and … buried with him.' Galadriel looked grave. 'When Angmar fell, the men of the North took his body, and all that he possessed, and sealed it within the high fells of Rhudaur. Deep within the rock they buried him, in a tomb so dark it would never come to light.'

'This is not possible,' Elrond said, though his face was cast in doubt. 'A powerful spell lies upon those tombs. They cannot be opened.'

'What proof do we have that this weapon came from Angmar's grave?' Saruman said.

Gandalf was starting to look weary now. 'I have none.'

'Because there is none,' Saruman insisted. 'Let us examine what we know: a single Orc pack has dared to cross the Bruinen. A dagger from a bygone age has been found. And a human sorcerer, who calls himself the Necromancer, has taken up residence in a ruined fortress. It's not so very much, after all.'

Sarah raised her hand between notes, but before she could finish writing, Galadriel advocated on her behalf.

'The strange lander raises a point worthy of consideration. These omens may be small, but perhaps they should not be dismissed out of hand. The most recent atrocities in Sarah's world have come about not from a single declaration of war, or over the course of one dark night. They have come about because leaders chose to ignore incremental omens until it was too late.'

Sarah held her sketchbook to her chest and stayed stoic even as Saruman frowned at her. It was true — his kind of thinking was how the UK had ended up reacting to the pandemic criminally slowly, even as they'd all watched it sweep through China, Italy and Spain in real time.

Elrond looked deeply reluctant to take Galadriel's words to heart. Sarah couldn't exactly blame him. He'd fought in the war against Sauron; he wanted to leave those gruesome memories in the past where they belonged.

'The question of this Dwarvish company, however,' Saruman said after a tense silence, 'troubles me deeply. I'm not convinced, Gandalf. I do not feel I can condone such a quest. If they'd come to me, I might have spared them this disappointment. I will not pretend to understand your reasons for raising their hopes, but that is of no consequence now. Elrond, I suggest you post guards at every entrance and exit—'

'My Lord Elrond,' Lindir said, interrupting the proceedings and looking apprehensive about how his news would be received. 'The Dwarves. They're gone.'

'What?' Elrond said, bewildered, if only for a moment. 'Already? How … Gandalf.'

The wizard shrugged sheepishly. Sarah cracked a small smile and - she could have sworn - so did Galadriel.

'But of course,' Saruman said, sitting back in his chair. 'I should have known better than to trust that you would not engage in some manner of trickery or subterfuge.'

'As I said, I am doing what I feel to be right.'

'Feeling is not the same as knowing,' Saruman said, patently unimpressed. He rose to his feet. 'When this excursion of yours goes up in smoke, you shall have no one to blame but yourself. It is futile for me to expend further energy on dissuading you from what you have already set in motion. Therefore, I respectfully take my leave. Lord Elrond. Lady Galadriel.' Almost as an afterthought, he nodded to Sarah too. 'Galandrandir. Wherever your ultimate destination lies, may you travel safely.'

She nodded back, watching him descend the staircase with shivers at the thought of the darkness into which his character would eventually descend.

'Well,' Elrond said, 'that took an interesting turn. You certainly know how to cause a stir wherever you go, Mithrandir.'

'I sincerely apologize for the inconvenience and intrusion,' Gandalf said, looking only half-sincere. He too rose from the table. 'I hold your opinions in high regard but, for better or worse, I am an irredeemably stubborn Wizard. The Dwarves are set on this path, and so am I.'

'On your own head be it,' Elrond said, echoing Saruman's sentiment without the aggravation.

'Now, if you and Lady Galadriel will excuse us, I believe that Sarah and I have a company to rejoin.' He turned to her with a twinkle in his eye. 'That is, if you wish.'

Well, Sarah reasoned, in light of what she'd learned, her door could show up at literally any time — it was out of her hands. All she could do now was try to follow Galadriel's guidance and search for meaning in Middle Earth. Something she was more likely to achieve by physically going out into it, rather than sequestering herself in Rivendell, beautiful as it was. Did she really want to swap one kind of lockdown for another?

She bowed deeply to both Galadriel and Elrond, then grinned at Gandalf and nodded her decision at last. Let's go.

Just as she was halfway through the white stone arch, Galadriel said, 'Without repayment of your loan?'

Sarah and Gandalf turned around, equally confused. My loan? Sarah repeated, for Galadriel was looking at her. What loan?

'I was surprised, Mithrandir, when you said that Sarah's voice was the "price" she had paid to cross into our world. I thought you would know the lore of the strange lander better than to use such a common misquotation.'

'Misquotation?' Gandalf said.

Galadriel reached down to her side and brought something out from under the folds of her sheer, glittering cloak that Sarah hadn't noticed before: a small bag. And from within the bag: a glass vial with a beautifully cut stopper. And within the vial: a sun ray swirling in mist. That's what it looked like, at any rate.

Sarah raised a hand to her lips, then pointed at the vial with trembling fingers. Is that … ?

'John wept when he tasted his first meal, many weeks into his wanderings,' Galadriel said, smiling at the memory. 'A honey cake. Such a simple thing. Like laughter, or a sigh, or a single word.'

Sarah walked towards the Elf Queen, desperate to hold the vial with her own hands and also terrified that she would drop it.

'You will not drop it. Do not be afraid. Here.' She held it out. Sarah took it, gazing in awe along with Gandalf and Elrond.

'It moves like a living thing,' Elrond observed.

'A powerful thing,' Galadriel said.

They waited as Sarah cautiously unscrewed the stopper. She half-expected the glowing voice to leap out and disappear into the sky, but it continued swirling inside the vial, patient and docile. She held it to her lips and tipped her head back.

She almost did drop the vial, from shock. Her voice rushed back to her with ferocious cold, as if she'd stepped into Arctic wilderness. She brought her hands to her throat, the cold burning under her fingers. It was at once agonizing and exquisite. She gasped.

She gasped.

For the first time in over a fortnight, Sarah heard her breath cycle through her lungs.

'It … worked,' she whispered. Tears misted her eyes, falling even faster than she fell to her knees. 'It worked! Thank you, Galadriel. Thank you. I could say it a thousand times and it wouldn't be enough. Thank you.'

'It brings me joy to reunite you with what is rightfully yours.' She took Sarah's hands and helped her to her feet. Her skin was unbelievably soft — the priciest moisturizers on Earth couldn't compete with this. 'Perhaps you will find joy in reuniting the Dwarves with what is rightfully theirs.'

'Yes,' Sarah said, unable to stop smiling. 'Perhaps I will.' Each new word shone as if she were encountering it for the first time. Elrond looked glad for her; Gandalf was positively thrilled.

'If you intend to travel beyond the Bruinen,' Elrond said, glancing at her dress, 'then we shall have to ensure you are well-equipped for whatever lies ahead. I will have the Elf-maids bring some suitable apparel to your room, if you have the time to spare.'

'We can afford to leave a half-day or so between ourselves and the Dwarves,' Gandalf said. 'They are travelling on foot — Sarah and I will have no problem catching up.'

Elrond nodded. Whatever reservations he had about the quest, he seemed willing to put aside for the time being. 'Is there anything else you might need on the road?'

Sarah glanced at Galadriel before mentally reviewing what lay ahead on the Hobbit timeline. The Elf Queen already had the means of seeing "things that have not yet come to pass" with her Mirror in Lothlorien, so this was hardly any different. And Sarah trusted by now that she wouldn't divulge anything to the others unnecessarily. So she thought, hard. She thought of what she could avoid, what she couldn't, and what might go one way or the other.

'If it's not too much to ask,' she finally said to Elrond, 'please could I have a coil of rope and a small bag of powdered chalk.'

Elrond laughed. He didn't conceal his bemusement at Sarah's requests, but assented to them nonetheless. 'Very well. The galandrandir has spoken.'