"The Doctor? What kind of a name is that?"

"My name."

"... Who are you, really?"

"Someone who knows the Daleks. Someone who has beaten the Daleks time and time again. I'm here to save you."

"... Why should we trust you?"

"You don't have to, if you'd want to die. I really don't see another alternative."

"We can outlast them! Celibana can maintain her shield indefinitely -"

"You'll starve. Anyway, they'll just leave after they've got what they've come for and literally blow up this planet, killing you all regardless of your magical shield. They are undoubtedly technologically superior. You need my help."

"Fine then. Tell me what you would do."

I looked at this 'Doctor.' I didn't know if I could trust him, but I didn't have a choice. He looked me dead in the eyes.

"Get me a council of the Elven leaders."

It was less than an hour later when all the surviving Elven leaders had gathered to discuss matters with this 'Doctor', supposed bringer of our salvation. Thranduil, Lord of Mirkwood. Celeborn, the Lord of Amon Lanc. Celibana, newly appointed as the heir to Amon Lanc. Two seats at the council were notably empty. One would've gone to Elladan, or Elrohir, whichever of Elrond's twin sons decided to arrive. But Rivendell was overrun, and they were dead now. Finally, the last seat would've gone to any other high ranking noble Elf to spare. But Celeburn refused to come. He simply would not because he believed there was no longer any chance of victory. And the only other candidate, Legolas, did not return from his last journey.

"Well, is this everyone?" asked the Doctor. "Let's get started then."

"So… Doctor. How can you save us from these… Daleks?" asked Thranduil.

"It's hard to describe, but I have a ship that can travel through time and space - and on land - and can carry an infinite amount of your soldiers."

"What?" asked Celeborn, curious.

"I call it my TARDIS. It's how I got here. The Daleks are threatening the very stability of this universe, because of their mithril harvesting. They are using it to significantly augment their powers."

"How do we know we can trust you?" I asked.

"... You can't, really. I've helped and saved people before, but you don't have proof of that. What I know… is that you need my help. We have to beat the Daleks. I'm doing this for your good and the good of the universe."

"Lasdir, apologies, but we are going to trust this Doctor. I cannot see an alternative solution," said Thranduil.

"Great! So… do any of you guys have a plan?" asked the Doctor.

"Do you mean you do not have a plan?" inquired Celeborn.

"Not yet…" he said, scratching the back of his head in shame.

The room fell silent. A few minutes later, he broke the silence.

"Wait. I can make you trust me."