A/N Ahhhh snow days, there have been soooo many lately. But check it OUT. New chapter drop.
There are so many dwarves to handle, omg.
Also does anybody else get super sad that Ori is the dead dwarf in Moria who wrote the book in the chamber of Marzarbul? Cause I'm pretty much constantly torn up about it.
Also in other news that's not really news cause it's basically been a constant since I started writing this series, but y'all are amazing, I hope you know that.
When she'd asked Lord Elrond for a private location to meet with the Company that she could be sure was kept away from by the elves for a bit, she hadn't expected to be shown to the pavilion where the White Council would be held. But, given that it was high up on the edge of the valley and Lindir had been instructed to practically stand guard at the base of the path up, she supposed it was a comfortably safe fit.
The dwarves, for all their shenanigans, were punctual and there when she arrived. They were sitting in a half circle of chairs around the edge of the pavilion, the table in the center way too small to hold thirteen dwarves, Bilbo, and then Gandalf who parked himself by the entryway.
"What's all this about then?" Ori asked when she stepped up to the table.
"Exactly." Bofur added. "Awful lot of ceremony when ye could just talk to us anywhere."
Thorin cleared his throat. "Perhaps she has come to share some of her wisdom. Isn't that what you lot of have been complaining about for weeks?" He looked around from the center of the chairs in a clear command to shut up so she could talk.
Josephine appreciated his order, if they got going she'd have to fight to get a word in edgewise and she'd be exhausted before she even got to the important parts. She gave it a couple of seconds to make sure everyone was ready to follow through with the quiet before clearing her throat and starting.
"So you all know I'm from the future and you all know I know what's going to happen on this quest. Correct?" Of course they did, but she figured the best way to keep them all on track was to start from the very beginning and move forward from there.
Nods went around the room and she went on.
"And given that you're all dwarves, or wizards, or hobbits, depending on how far in the future I'm from, you may still be around when I am in my time. And since that's technically my past, I won't know any of you personally yet, despite the fact that you know me."
"So you want us to explain how we know you then?" Oin filled in.
"Literally the last thing I want any of you to do, that's why we're here. If any of you ever meet me again in the future, you tell me absolutely fucking nothing." Gloin sure kept quiet when he met her, but she appreciated that it didn't stop him from befriending her a second time either.
Bombur looked surprised. "You want us to pretend you're a stranger because otherwise we'd be telling you your future?"
"Exactly." Gold star for Bombur. "But it's gonna be a little more encompassing than that." She put her hands on the stone table. "When this is all over, whatever happens to me or…wherever I end up, every single one of you has to do something."
Bilbo leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. "What do we have to do?"
"Erase me from the story. I was never here, never a part of any of this. If you write down accounts of what happened or tell people about it, leave me and anything to do with me, out."
"But you should be remembered for your deeds just like the rest of us!" Kili said.
"And if word of those deeds get back to past me and it tips me off that something weird is going on?" Beyond the weird stuff that already went one. "I know I can't stop up every hole, I can't swear everyone we meet into silence. But the accounts that all of you will tell from this quest, will set the narrative. Everything else is just…"
"Rumors that will fade with time." Thorin finished. "And those we can deny when we hear them. Few will dispute us if we tell them you were simply that. A rumor."
Ten gold stars for Thorin. "Look, I don't know what could happen if I found out I was a part of this quest before I arrived in the Shire, but that's not a risk I'm going to take. On top of that if the wrong people caught wind of me before certain events I could end up dead or worse." That was why she had to meet Saruman for the first time at Orthanc. Why the most that could ever reach Barad-dur was some vague lore about a seer a long time ago who disappeared.
"We will guard your secret as closely as if it were our own." Thorin promised her with a firm gaze that made it impossible for her to not trust his words.
"Now, on a more specific note, if Elrond within the next century ever calls a council, the only member of this Company who goes is Gloin and he'll bring Gimli with him."
"Mah wee lad?" Gloin asked with his brows pushed together.
"I don't care if Elrond calls for anyone else here, you don't show up and whoever's in charge makes sure Gloin comes."
"Does that mean I'll see ye again for that council?"
"If we're lucky and we don't fuck this all up, yes." She crossed her arms and looked around at them all. "The moral of the story is this: I never existed and anyone who says I did is either wrong or it wasn't actually me they're talking about. Only Gloin comes to that council out of all the dwarves here, and he says absolutely nothing about this quest or anyone involved in it or anything about Erebor." Rumors of a seer were fine, it had given her hope of answers and everyone had made it vague enough that she had no reason to think she was involved. "Are we all clear on this?"
The Company nodded in agreement and relief came over Josephine. That had been significantly easier than she'd expected, strangely enough. She had a feeling Thorin might have had something to do with that.
She glanced over her shoulder at Gandalf who nodded, like he was agreeing that it seemed to have gone well.
"Well, all right then." She shrugged. "I guess we're done here. Back to deconstructing Rivendell's furniture for campfires I guess."
There was a scrape of chair legs on the stone as the heavy dwarves got up and Nori hefted his above his head to take with him, probably to do exactly what she'd been half joking about.
They all filed out and down the path including Bilbo and Gandalf, but Thorin stayed behind and waited until everyone was out of earshot.
"And if you manage to save my nephews, I presume you cannot know they still live?"
"Them…Or you."
He didn't seem surprised by her admission of his own potential death. She imagined that with the risk of the quest he was already wondering if he'd survive it. But he had to know if he was still there and became King under the Mountain, that too had to be kept secret from her.
She hadn't heard either way from anyone during the War. With everything going on, Erebor was far away and dealing with its own battles. Once it was all over, marriage congratulations had come from many of the leaders in Middle-Earth along with gifts and well wishes, but she'd been so overwhelmed, she couldn't remember reading many of them herself. Hell, the necklace she'd worn on her wedding day had been a gift from the king of Erebor but she'd just assumed it was from Dain because why wouldn't she have? Could it have actually come from Thorin or one of his nephews?
"I will see it done."
Josephine knew she shouldn't leave a trace behind, it was just asking for trouble, but if she didn't return to Gondor…She knew she could entrust Lord Elrond with seeing that a letter was delivered to Gondor when it was clear she wasn't coming back.
She'd sat on her balcony for hours with a quill in hand, trying to understand how to write a goodbye letter without breaking her own heart in the process. How did she pour onto the page how much she loved him and thought about him, how she was doing everything she could to return but if he was reading her words, it hadn't been enough? How did she bear to write the words that would tell him to let her go when she didn't believe she could survive moving on from him?
Pages littered the floor around her as she scratched out sentences and wiped at her eyes, hoping all the pain she was going through now would be for naught at the end, and that the next time her letter was opened, it was by her with Aragorn at her side.
A soft knock interrupted her and she jumped, trying to straighten up the pages and cursing how red and puffy her eyes probably looked. Cautiously opening the door she found Ori waiting outside looking somewhat nervous.
"Scuse' me, Lady Josephine, I'm sorry to disturb. But I was thinkin' on what you said at the council about erasing you from the story and…well I'd already started recording you in it so I wanted you to know I'm going to redo it so you don't worry."
The Company's self appointed scribe, he'd follow Balin to Moria and record the words that had haunted her for months before entering the halls. Drums. Drums in the deep. She swallowed the lump forming in her throat as she imagined his future and turned her mind back to the young Ori in front of her.
"Thank you, I know that's got to be a lot of work."
"Won't be so bad, not since we're all here restin' anyway. I took the pages out, thought you might like to destroy them yer'self."
He handed her six or so crinkled pages of text written in Khuzdul, unreadable for her but she appreciated that he wanted her to have them.
"Also, one other thing for ye."
He handed her another page, this time with a sketch on it like the one of Bilbo he'd have in the Red Book when he wrote There and Back Again. Except this sketch wasn't of Bilbo, it was of her.
"I want to do one of everyone in the company." Ori continued.
"You should." She smiled, looking down at the page and thinking he'd managed to make her look a lot cooler than she probably was, all geared up and ready to fight orcs. "Thank you for this."
"Y'er quite welcome, Lady Josephine. I'll let you go back to things."
He left in a hurry and she closed the door, still looking over the pages of text and the sketch. They should get destroyed, really. But she couldn't bear it, to burn Ori's records and drawing just in case. There would be one place where it might be safe to keep it, and maybe it would bring Aragorn comfort, if the worst did happen.
Eventually she finished her letter, signing her name at the bottom of the several pages she'd spent saying her goodbyes. She folded the parchment gently, not minding the tear or two that fell on the corner and smudged one of the words as she did. Then, with the sketch and Ori's accounts, she placed all of it in an oilskin and tied it shut.
Josephine found Elrond in his study and she held the oilskin out to him. "Will you hide this and keep it safe?"
He took it, not opening it, but being curious. "For how long should I do so?"
"Until I come back from this quest, or until…" Her throat clenched. "Until you're sure I won't."
"And if that time comes, what actions would you like me to take?" He spoke quietly, with a soft expression that made her feel like he already had an idea.
Her voice cracked and her chest felt like it was full of rocks. "Will you make sure he gets it?" Elrond had already figured it out, he knew who she was talking about, she was sure of it.
Catching her off guard, he cupped her chin in his hand. "I will bring it to Aragorn myself. You have my word, Josephine." He used his thumb to wipe away a tear that rolled down her cheek and smiled. "But I very much hope that it will not be necessary."
