When Gandalf comes back at last, an hour after dark, he has only half a dozen parsnips and a fistful of discolored dandelion greens to show for his lengthy absence. I don't ask whether he had failed to catch anything or if he simply declined to try. I meekly heat stones to boil water and after scraping the parsnips cook the roots until they are soft enough to afford a little comfort to our stomachs despite our marked lack of flavor. Gandalf says little as he finishes his meal and goes to turn my clothing so that it might dry better. Knowing that my words will not be welcome, I sit in silence for a long while, trying to work up the courage to speak.

,,We cannot turn back," I say when I finally have determined that I can delay no longer. ,,we must know if…" Even under the open skies of Eriador we have never spoken of Bilbo's ring aloud. In this dark and debatable land, it will be the pinnacle of folly to do so. I continue with care. ,,... if our friend's bauble is of any value. We must learn what the creature knows: we must find him." Gandalf doesn't look at me.

,,I tell you, I cannot go on. My patience is spent. We have no hope of success and there may be another way."

,,Another way?" My brow furrows. If there is another way, why did we waste fifteen years scouring the Wilderland in search of a being that did not want to be found? The wizard exhales heavily.

,,You probably do not remember, for you were only a young woman at the time, but the council met for a final time in the year that Turgon of Gondor perished."

,,I remember. I rode as far as the last spur of the Misty Mountains in the escort of Elrond. I should have ridden to Isengard with him, but he felt it would be wiser for me to keep well away." I glance over my shoulder, listening for noises in the night. Lowering my voice I add: ,,We have spoken also of that which was discussed at that meeting, but you told me that little of use was said."

,,Little indeed and so viciously did we squabble that in the end it was agreed that unless direst need forced us, we would not gather again, for it seems that we could do no more than argue. Yet I said little, not nothing, and as I walked tonight words half-forgotten returned to me. Saruman, well-versed in the lore of such trinkets, made mention of the humble appearance of the thing: simple, unadorned. But its maker set marks upon it that the skilled, maybe, could still see and read."

,,What manner of marks?"

,,That he did not say. Yet his words came to me tonight as I was walking. If he had such knowledge, it must have a source. Long had the thing been lost by the time we came to these shores: he must have gained the information indirectly. The marker of course would know, but one other hand held the article; a hand that might have left a written record of his observations."

,,Isildur." It's less than a whisper, scarcely more than an unmistakable movement of my lips. Still Gandalf hears me and nods.

,,And if such is the case, perhaps that account still exists in the vaults of lore in Minas Tirith, where he spent much of the last two years of his life. Saruman had easy access to those libraries in the years before a viper poisoned the Lord Ecthelion against him."

,,As I understand it, Captain Thorongil did not so much counsel against Saruman as he advocated for you. And in his time in the Citadel Thorongil never came across any scrolls so ancient as that."

,,Ah, but Thorongil's leisure was limited, or so he gave me to understand. His access was curtailed by one perhaps jealous of his grasp of ancient tongues, and certainly suspicious of his interest in ancient history."

,,So it was. Then do you mean to abandon the hunt and travel to the White City to seek out this hypothetical account?"

,,I have better hope of finding that than we have of finding Gollum in the mountains," Gandalf says. ,,Denethor will not deny me so easily as he denied Thorongil and as a last resort I might yet travel to Orthanc and question Saruman, though with the danger to the Shire I am loath to trust anyone but you."

,,I am touched. Yet as Thorongil counseled Ecthelion, so I must counsel you: be wary of friendship with the White Wizard. He has less care for his allies then he has for himself, or he would never have taken Isengard for his own. He betrayed a dead friend: shall he consider living ones more sacred?"

,,That is an old song, my friend." Gandalf chuckles.

,,Well, when you are in Minas Tirith, occasionally raise your head from the books to observe how her folk fare. I would be glad of tidings."

,,Come with me and see for yourself."

,,You know that is impossible," I mutter, casting my eyes away. ,,If I were recognized…"

,,You have changed more than you think from the fair young captain who inspired love in the hearts of all who beheld her and swayed the affections of the daughters of the lords of Gondor." Gandalf says, smiling sadly to take the sting out of the cruel words. ,,No one would know you now."

,,Denethor would know."

,,I did not say: come with me to the Citadel. I shall have enough difficulty with Denethor without antagonizing him openly. But there is no reason you could not find lodgings in the lower city and rest of time while I labored. There you might gather all the tidings you wish."

,,It is impossible. It is not my fate to take that road."

,,Then I will free you from your promise." Gandalf says. ,,Return to the North, my friend. Go to Mirkwood and walk beneath the trees with your beloved." I shake my head. I cannot afford to think upon that enticement.

,,No." I repeat a few times. It's an unworthy thought. I have given my word to find the creature, and find him I will - or else while I have strength of will and breath in my body - I will continue the search. ,,I shall continue the hunt for a time. I want to go into the mountains. Perhaps I can find the trail again." Gandalf looks at me.

,,Have you still hope?" He asks me. ,,After all this time, when my heart is filled with despair, can it be that you still believe success is possible?"

,,I can do nothing but hope. Besides, the days grow ever shorter. I do not relish the thought of walking North into winter lands wearing only my light summer garb. I will hunt for another reason, at least. Who can say? Perhaps I shall find some success at last."

,,Perhaps." Gandalf mutters bleakly, his voice only holds bitterness.