Chapter 12: The White Council and the Elders of the Eldar

Bilbo Baggins enjoyed his time in Rivendell. It was peaceful, with all the comforts of home and plenty of good food, including meat this time. He did his best to avoid the dwarves while he was there. Though he was fond of them, they were acting insufferably as guests in the valley. Elenath and Ithilel took the liberty of showing him all the interesting places in the valley and the best walks to take. They introduced him to Elrond's sons, with whom he found great companionship and conversation.

There were, of course, less pleasant moments, such as when he insisted on accompanying Elenath and Ithilel to meet with a group of rangers stopping for the night in Rivendell. Elenath and Ithilel approached a fresh-faced young ranger with brown hair and his dark-haired companion.

"Halbarad, Estel," greeted Elenath. "It does my heart good to see you both in good health."

Ithilel echoed a similar greeting, and Bilbo bowed deeply to them.

Both young rangers returned the greeting before casting a curious look toward the Hobbit.

"It is not common to see one of the small folk so far from the Shire and Bree. What brings you here, halfling?" asked Halbarad, as his silent companion tilted his head in interest.

"I have been traveling with a company of dwarves," answered Bilbo, before asking, "You speak like one who knows the Shire. Have you been there?"

"Not myself," answered Halbarad, "but I have just received an assignment from my teacher to travel to the borders of the Shire to guard them. I will be heading that way tomorrow, but I will tarry a little at my family farm before I travel there. If you wish to return to the Shire, you are free to accompany me."

The cold feeling that had left Bilbo when the talk of his beloved Shire had passed through the strangers' mouths returned, and he was abruptly reminded of why he and the elves were here.

"Halbarad," started Elenath, "we bring grave news of your family…"

"What has happened?!" cried out Halbarad, interrupting the elf. "Are they alright? Are my sisters and parents well?"

"Halbarad," repeated Elenath, gently placing a hand on his shoulder, "I am afraid that your family has passed on to the Halls of Mandos and are in the heart of Ilúvatar."

"No, no, NO!" shouted Halbarad. "That is impossible. I saw them not three years past, and they were in good health, and the farm was prosperous. You must be mistaken."

Halbarad pulled away from Elenath's hand and stood trembling, his eyes darting between the two elves and Bilbo, who had hung his head. The ranger's companion, Estel, placed his arms around his trembling friend and pulled him into a tight hug.

"I wish with all my heart that we were mistaken," spoke Ithilel, kneeling down in front of the two young rangers, "but it is without question."

"What happened to them?" Halbarad asked in a quavering voice.

Both elves glanced at each other before Elenath let out a breath and closed her eyes, while Ithilel bowed her head and muttered something in Elvish, which Bilbo guessed was a prayer.

"Stone Trolls came down from the Ettenmoors and took up residence in a cave near your family's home," answered Elenath, finally opening her piercing blue eyes to meet the Dúnedain's gaze.

"Stone Trolls," whispered the young man as he buried his face in his friend's shoulder.

"Yes," answered Ithilel, sorrow in her voice.

"But the justice of the Valar found them," cried Bilbo, speaking for the first time and imitating the formal speech of the elves. "They met their doom in the sunlight and are now condemned to remain as stone statues until the breaking of the world!"

Halbarad looked at Bilbo for a long moment before turning again and sobbing into Estel's shoulder. Estel hugged him tighter before turning to the elves and the Hobbit and saying,

"I will take him to his quarters and stay with him. I believe he will need some time to process this pain. If you could speak to our teacher and Master Elrond, I believe we should hold a funeral for them, at least."

Both elves nodded in agreement and went about fulfilling the young ranger's request. They had already informed Elrond and his sons of the tragedy that had befallen the farm and Halbarad's family. Elrond had been greatly grieved to hear of it and had sent his sons and some warriors to recover what they could of the family and their possessions. He had also set preparations for the funeral in motion.

The funeral took place two days after the news was given to their son. There were no bodies to bury, but there were some clothes and weapons. Elrond had his stonemasons construct a single tomb for them, as was the custom in Gondor and Númenor of old. The masons had not had time to create effigies of the family, but they would in days to come.

In the place of bodies, the father Abrazîr's sword had been bound in one of his tunics and placed next to his wife Loriena's dress, which was adorned with her family's simple jewelry. Below those were Elowen and Lúthiel's blue dresses, bound with the beads they had strung and wrapped around the small wooden bows Elenath had taught them to make as children, while Mirandë's green tunic had the small wooden sword Ithilel had gifted her resting on top.

Halbarad arranged them personally in the tomb while his friend Estel, Gandalf, Ithilel, Elenath, and the sons of Elrond stood nearby. Elrond himself stood a few paces back with the rangers and other elves of Rivendell. Even Bilbo had been invited to come by Estel.

Bilbo stood in the back since he was not truly acquainted with the family. Next to him stood a tall elf woman in bright white. He did not know her, but she felt cold and powerful, though not someone he should fear. Standing a step behind the lady were three blond elves dressed in grey cloaks with green leaf brooches, their similar faces marking them as brothers.

As Halbarad gently arranged the bundles in the tomb, Estel sang in a clear voice:

"When the cold of winter comes,

Starless nights will cover day.

In the veiling of the sun,

We will walk in bitter rain.

But in dreams,

I can hear your name,

And in dreams,

We will meet again.

When the seas and mountains fall

And we come to the end of days,

In the dark I hear a call,

Calling me there—

I will go there,

And back again."

Bilbo remained at the back as many elves and rangers stepped forward to offer their respects and words of comfort to the grieving son. Even Elenath and Ithilel spoke quietly to him, but they were far enough away that Bilbo couldn't hear their words.

Glancing around, Bilbo suddenly realized that the woman and her guards had disappeared. He searched the area but saw no sign of them. Feeling out of place, Bilbo bowed once, then quietly slipped away from the scene, wandering through the elven home as dusk settled over the valley.

He was about to return to his room when he heard voices nearby and stopped to listen.

"…And really, I think you can trust that I know what I am doing," Gandalf stated firmly. He was speaking to Elrond as they, along with Ithilel and Elenath, passed by above where Bilbo stood hidden. Elenath and Ithilel had both changed since Bilbo last saw them. Elenath now wore robes similar to Elrond's, but of even finer quality. Ithilel had exchanged her ranger's outfit for silver armor and green robes.

"Do you? That dragon has slept for sixty years. What will happen if your plan fails and you wake that beast?" Elrond asked, his voice filled with concern.

"It takes much more time than that for a dragon to die," Ithilel added. "Sixty years is enough only to make it hungry. This quest could end in disaster—we no longer have the weapons to fight dragons."

"But what if we succeed?" Gandalf countered. "If the dwarves reclaim the mountain, our defenses in the east will be strengthened."

"It is a dangerous gamble, Gandalf," Elrond remarked.

"And what of the other dangers that lurk in that mountain besides the dragon?" Elenath asked, her tone sharp.

"It is equally dangerous to do nothing," Gandalf retorted. "The throne of Erebor is Thorin's birthright. What is it that you fear?"

"Have you forgotten?" Elrond replied, his voice lowering. "As Elenath reminded you, a strain of madness runs deep in Thorin's family. His grandfather lost his mind, and his father succumbed to the same sickness. Can you swear Thorin Oakenshield will not fall as they did? These decisions do not rest with us alone. It is not up to you or me to redraw the map of Middle-earth."

"With or without our help, the dwarves will march on the mountain," Gandalf said, his resolve unwavering. "I don't believe Thorin feels answerable to anyone—nor, for that matter, am I."

As the conversation continued, the small group ascended a flight of stairs, arriving at a secluded stone pavilion where their voices would not be overheard.

"It is not me you must answer to," Elrond said, glancing toward the far end of the pavilion.

Gandalf looked up and saw the Lady Galadriel standing at the edge, turning to face them.

"Lady Galadriel," Gandalf bowed.

"Mithrandir. It has been a long time," she replied with a graceful nod.

"Age may have changed me, but not the Lady of Lórien," Gandalf responded, switching to Elvish for his compliment.

"I had no idea Lord Elrond had sent for you," Gandalf added, returning to the common tongue.

"He didn't. I did," came the deep, gruff voice of Saruman, who entered the pavilion from a separate entrance.

"Saruman," Gandalf greeted him with another bow.

"You've been busy, my friend," Saruman replied, before turning to Elenath and Ithilel. "Princess Elenath, former commander Ithilel—it has been many years." The White Wizard took a seat at the stone table, and Gandalf followed suit. Elrond and Galadriel remained standing, walking slowly around the pavilion. Ithilel positioned herself behind Elenath, standing still as a statue.

"Tell me, Gandalf," Saruman said, his eyes sharp. "Did you think these plans of yours would go unnoticed?"

"Unnoticed? No," Gandalf answered calmly. "I'm simply doing what I believe to be right."

"The dragon has long been on your mind," Galadriel observed as she passed by Gandalf.

"Indeed, my lady. Smaug owes allegiance to no one. But if he sides with the enemy, a dragon could wreak terrible destruction," Gandalf explained.

"What enemy?" Saruman scoffed. "Sauron is vanquished. He can never regain his full strength."

"For four hundred years, we have lived in peace," Elrond interjected, "a hard-won, watchful peace."

"But not a complete victory," Elenath added from her seat.

"Are we truly at peace?" Gandalf questioned. "Trolls have descended from the mountains, raiding villages, destroying farms. Orcs have attacked us on the road."

"Hardly the prelude to war," Elrond said, though his face betrayed concern.

"You always meddle, looking for trouble where none exists," Saruman remarked.

"Let him speak," Galadriel commanded, silencing the others.

"There is something at work beyond Smaug," Gandalf continued. "Something far more powerful. We may ignore it, but it will not ignore us. A sickness lies over the Greenwood. The woodsmen who live there now call it 'Mirkwood.' And they say—"

"Well, don't stop now," Saruman interrupted with mock interest. "Tell us what the woodsmen say."

Gandalf turned to Ithilel, who responded, "There is a Necromancer living in Dol Guldur, a sorcerer who some claim can summon the dead."

"That's absurd!" Saruman scoffed. "No such power exists. This 'Necromancer' is merely a mortal man, dabbling in black magic."

"And yet Radagast has seen—" Gandalf began.

"Radagast?" Saruman interrupted again, disdain dripping from his voice. "Do not speak to me about Radagast the Brown. He's a foolish fellow."

"Well, he's odd, I grant you," Gandalf admitted. "But his power remains strong, and his knowledge of the creatures of the forest is vast."

"It's not that," Saruman countered, "it's his excessive consumption of mushrooms."

Gandalf reached into his robe and pulled out a cloth-wrapped bundle, placing it on the table.

"What is that?" Elrond asked warily, while Elenath blanched.

"A relic of Mordor," Gandalf said gravely.

Elrond reached out to unwrap it, then hesitated before opening it fully, revealing the dagger Radagast had taken from Dol Guldur.

Shock rippled through the group. Elrond and Ithilel recoiled, and Elenath placed a hand on her temple as if to ward off a headache.

"Made for the Witch-king of Angmar," Galadriel explained. "It was buried with him in the High Fells of Rhudaur."

"This is impossible," Elrond muttered. "A powerful spell seals those tombs—they cannot be opened."

"And yet darkness is where creatures like him thrive," Elenath said grimly.

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

"I have none," Gandalf admitted.

"Is this dagger not proof enough?" Elenath demanded.

Saruman hesitated, then began again, "A single Orc pack crossing the Bruinen, a dagger from a bygone age, and a mortal sorcerer calling himself the Necromancer—it's not much."

"There is more to this quest than meets the eye," Elenath interjected. "I feel it in my bones—this journey will change the course of Middle-earth."

"I've sensed it too," Elrond agreed. "A great change is coming."

"What possible good could come from a treasure hunt?" Saruman scoffed.

"That remains to be seen," Elenath replied. "But the quest must proceed, and I will do all I can to help them."

"We," Ithilel corrected, her voice firm. "I may find these dwarves insufferably arrogant and incurably stupid, but I am not going to force you to suffer them alone."

Suddenly, Lindir appeared, breathless. "My Lord Elrond, the dwarves—they've gone."

"As expected," Saruman muttered, rising to leave, followed by Elrond and Lindir.

Ithilel collapsed into a chair, groaning, "Wizards…"

"You will follow them," Galadriel said softly.

The remaining members of the council nodded.

"You are right to help Thorin Oakenshield," Galadriel told Gandalf. "But I fear this quest has set in motion forces we do not yet understand. The riddle of the Morgul Blade must be answered. Something moves in the shadow's unseen, hidden from our sight. It will not show itself. Not yet. But every day it grows in strength. You must be careful"

"Middle-earth is changing," Elenath added. "This age is ending."

They fell into silence until Galadriel spoke again. "Mithrandir, why the Halfling?"

"I don't know," Gandalf confessed. "Perhaps because I'm afraid, and he gives me courage."

"Sometimes it is the smallest deeds that shape the fate of the world," Elenath mused.

"Lady Elenath is correct, and do not be afraid, Mithrandir. You are not alone," Galadriel reassured the wizard.

This is set in the Hobbit movie canon where Aragon was old enough to be a ranger.