The White Council's meeting

Lothlórien was one of the few Elven realms remaining at the end of the Third Age, and the most prosperous and powerful of them all.

Many kinds of Elves lived there, including Noldor Elves, Sindar Elves, and the native Nandor Elves (the Silvan Elves were a branch of the Nandor Elves).

Its current rulers were Celeborn and his wife, Lady Galadriel.

Celeborn belonged to the royal line of the Sindar Elves. If one traced his genealogy, he might even turn out to be related to Thranduil of the Woodland Realm.

His wife, Lady Galadriel, had a far more remarkable history than Celeborn.

She was an Elf of the Light who had bathed in the radiance of the Two Trees, a princess of the Noldor Elves, and the most powerful Elf in Middle-earth. She guarded and wielded Nenya, the Ring of Water, one of the Three Elven Rings.

And now this noble, powerful lady stood before Allen.

She gazed at Allen as he bowed his head, her gentle eyes seeming to see straight into his heart.

Under those circumstances, Allen simply could not hold her gaze for long.

He could only steal a glance at her face, which seemed brighter than starlight and softer than moonlight, before lowering his head.

There were too many secrets in his mind that he could not reveal.

Concealing them only deepened the shame in Allen's heart.

Then a gentle voice sounded beside his ear.

"You seem to be carrying so much in your heart. Do not dwell on it. You have the kindness to care for the weak and the courage to resist darkness. Such a noble heart matters far more than anything else. Raise your head. There is no need for this."

Soothed by her voice, Allen finally raised his head and saw Lady Galadriel smiling at him.

She said softly, "Mithrandir told me that he received important information from you. We will be holding another meeting soon, and we may need you to attend. Stay here for now. The Galadhrim will see that you are well cared for."

Before this lady, Allen found himself nodding involuntarily, unable to say anything else.

He stayed there.

Gandalf truly had not lied. Lothlórien was indeed a very, very beautiful place.

It was autumn, and the beautiful mallorn trees, which grew only here, had silver bark and golden leaves.

By day, they glittered in the sunlight. When a breeze blew through, their leaves seemed like a golden sea rippling before his eyes.

At night, the Elves' magical lamps shone everywhere, looking for all the world like countless brilliant stars in the heavens.

The Elves here were also warm and hospitable toward their friends, attending to Allen's every need.

Living here, Allen truly felt as though he had lost all sense of time passing.

It seemed that only a brief moment had gone by before Gandalf appeared before him again and told him the meeting was about to begin.

At first, Allen had actually been a little annoyed with Gandalf.

After bringing Allen here, the fellow had vanished in the blink of an eye.

He had left Allen standing alone at the entrance for a long time, until Lady Galadriel appeared before him.

But that slight resentment had long since disappeared amid the comforts of life in Lothlórien.

Now, when Allen heard that he was to attend the meeting, he followed Gandalf straight to the venue.

Calling it a venue was rather grand. It was only a small, open-air banquet hall.

Three people were already seated inside. Besides Lady Galadriel, whom Allen already knew, there was another Elf.

His face bore no trace of age, although his black hairline seemed to have receded a little.

His gray eyes were exceptionally bright, as though they held the radiance of the stars. He looked gently at Allen and nodded in greeting.

This was Lord Elrond, the lord of Rivendell and bearer of Vilya, the Ring of Air, one of the Three Elven Rings.

This half-Elven lord was very curious about Allen. In fact, he possessed some ability to see into people's hearts.

He could discern nothing suspicious in Allen's heart for now. At the very least, Allen did not appear to be a servant of darkness.

Yet even when it happened, only a handful of people should have known that Isildur possessed the One Ring.

Even if a few vague legends had circulated at the beginning of the age, they should have faded away long ago with the passing years.

Over all these years, Elrond had merely recorded those events in his books and had spoken of them to very few people.

What intrigued him was how Allen's people had learned of them.

Still, as an exceedingly kind half-Elf, he had no desire to pry too deeply, so long as Allen was not a minion of darkness.

The other person was an elderly human dressed in white robes, his hair, eyebrows, and beard meticulously groomed.

His expression was very stern, as though he were struggling to suppress his anger.

His bright, piercing eyes fixed on Gandalf and Allen as they approached. This was Saruman, the guardian of Isengard.

Saruman had no idea where that irritating Gandalf had learned about the One Ring. Worse, he had happened upon the men Saruman had sent to watch the Orcs near the Golden Iris River.

This was not good news for him. He could no longer conceal his knowledge of the One Ring.

Saruman was also considering how to divert Gandalf and the others' attention so that he would have more time to search for the One Ring.

The White Council had five principal members. The remaining member was Círdan, who lived in the Grey Havens-the legendary Elf who had given Gandalf the Ring of Fire all those years ago.

But Círdan was a mariner, and he was not in the Grey Havens at present.

Thus, only four of the Wise attended this meeting: Lady Galadriel, Saruman the White Wizard, Elrond the lord of Rivendell, and Gandalf the Grey.

Allen could also be counted as a participant, though for most of the meeting, his role was simply to listen.

No, listening was all he could do. Any one of these people could probably thrash Allen without breaking a sweat.

Allen had no wish to draw attention to himself. Being allowed to attend a meeting like this already made the journey worthwhile.

Yet even with renowned sages of Middle-earth making up the gathering, the meeting was far from smooth.

First, Gandalf recounted the information he had received and what he had witnessed at the Golden Iris River.

Then Saruman criticized Gandalf for believing every rumor he heard and lacking both patience and respect, while heaping scorn on Radagast, who had provided the information.

At the same time, he insisted that he too had only just learned about the Rings of Power and had merely sent people to the Golden Iris River to verify the report.

Saruman then declared with absolute confidence that, according to his information, the One Ring had been carried down the Anduin River into the sea, and there was no reason for anyone to worry about it.

In truth, this was merely a story he had devised because he wanted the One Ring for himself. He had even found Isildur's body, but not the One Ring.

Lady Galadriel did not join the two men's discussion, merely listening to everything with a smile.

Lord Elrond had long since decided that he and his people would move to Aman.

Of course, he would never shirk his duty to resist darkness, but that was not his chief concern at present.

From time to time, he glanced at Allen sitting in the corner, apparently more interested in this young human.

Sitting in the corner, Allen knew that this meeting had come too early. These matters should only have been discussed at the two meetings in the years 2941 and 2951 of the Third Age.

So many things were happening ahead of schedule. Allen was finally beginning to worry whether the Battle of Five Armies would happen at all.

Soon, with Saruman, the head of the White Council, blocking further discussion, the subject of the One Ring was dropped. The others accepted his claim that the One Ring had flowed into the sea and would no longer threaten the good peoples of the world.

They now discussed how to deal with the darkness in Dol Guldur. Gandalf strongly urged them to gather their forces and attack it.

Unlike in the original story, no one objected this time. Even Saruman did not try to stop them, because he already knew that Sauron had begun searching for the One Ring. Better to strike first.

At this point, Allen, who had been practically invisible all along, raised his hand to indicate that he had something to say.

Although Saruman had little interest in this minor follower trailing behind Gandalf, Lady Galadriel gave Allen permission to speak.

A little nervous in front of so many powerful figures, Allen cleared his throat.

Then he said, "If I understood correctly, you intend to launch an attack on Dol Guldur. In that case, I have a few pieces of information to share. First, my villagers told me that a pale Orc missing a hand often appears near Dol Guldur. If I am not mistaken, he should be the pale Orc who was active in Moria—Azog the Defiler. Some say the Dwarves Prince Thorin Oakenshield killed him a hundred years ago, but clearly, his desecrations have not ended."

Allen paused.

"Second, I ambushed Azog's son, Bolg, in a tunnel in the Misty Mountains. He came from Mount Gundabad. Clearly, Azog still rules some or all of the Half-orcs living there, but that is not the worst of it. Third, although I have no conclusive evidence, various signs suggest that Smaug, the dragon lying in the Lonely Mountain, has reached some sort of understanding with the darkness in Dol Guldur. At the very least, I have never seen him come into conflict with the Half-orcs of Mount Gundabad. That is all the information I can offer."

After finishing, Allen quietly settled back into his corner and went on making himself inconspicuous.

But his words left the leading figures of the White Council deep in thought.

The enemy's strength clearly exceeded their estimates.

If they wanted to attack Dol Guldur now, they would have to face not only the evil within that sinister fortress.

They would also have to contend with Half-orcs from the Misty Mountains and a dragon that might fly in at any moment.

This was not something the Elves of Lothlórien could handle alone. An uneasy silence fell over the gathering.

After a long while, Gandalf spoke, his voice heavy with resignation.

"In fact, my original plan was to organize an expedition of Durin's Folk next year. I have certain things in my possession that could persuade Thorin Oakenshield to call a council of the Dwarves. Then I would help him recover the King's Jewel, allowing him to muster all the Dwarven armies and march against the dragon occupying the Lonely Mountain. I had only intended to reclaim a strategic stronghold in the north, to prepare for the darkness that might rise at any time."

Gandalf sighed before continuing, "It seems this matter is no longer so simple. I will make arrangements for the expedition as soon as possible. If we can drive out the dragon occupying the Lonely Mountain, we will not only reclaim that vital northern stronghold, but also remove an obstacle to our attack on Dol Guldur. Even if we cannot drive him out, the enemy hiding in the shadows will not remain indifferent once Thorin Oakenshield appears at the Lonely Mountain. Perhaps that will give us a better opportunity."

Saruman offered no opinion on Gandalf's proposal. Lord Elrond said that they could come to him if they needed any help.

So long as they did not ask him to arrange for Elves to escort stubborn Dwarves, that was. That would surely be a disaster.

Lady Galadriel endorsed the proposal, leaving most of those present in agreement.

Saruman did not object. Instead, he said that Isengard, which he guarded, was too far from the Lonely Mountain for him to provide any effective assistance, but he would certainly take part in the attack on Dol Guldur.

In truth, Gandalf had never expected Saruman to offer any help with the expedition.

It would be enough if he did not get in the way. Besides Lord Elrond, the one who might truly have to contribute was Allen, sitting over there in the corner and pretending to be invisible.

With that thought, Gandalf went over to Allen, sat down beside him, and said with a smile, "Allen, I am sorry to tell you that our journey must end here. I had hoped to show you the beautiful scenery of Dimrill Dale and the customs of Rhûn, but that is no longer possible. I will have to make other preparations now. I need to travel north and gather the Rangers there in readiness for the attack on Dol Guldur."

Having said this, Gandalf's smile grew even more kindly. To Allen, it even carried a hint of the big bad wolf luring Little Red Riding Hood away.

"However, I will be setting out on another adventure next year. It will begin in the Shire, and if nothing unexpected happens, it will take us all the way to the Dwarves' kingdom in the north, the Lonely Mountain. That was once a flourishing, prosperous place, with countless treasures gathered within it. Would you be interested?"

Allen had known he could not avoid this, nor did he want to.

Quite apart from having taken Beorn's role in the original story, he had many goals of his own in this war. Even if Gandalf had not approached him, Allen would have eagerly sought a way to take part.

"Of course, Gandalf. I will accept your invitation again. I must say, traveling with you has been a real pleasure. If there is anything I can do to help, please do not hesitate to ask. Allen of Wilderness Town is at your service."

A flicker of emotion crossed Gandalf's face at Allen's words, but he quickly composed himself. The meeting was over, and he had a great deal to attend to.

Leaving aside Saruman, who glanced at Allen and departed without a word, Lord Elrond approached Allen and extended an invitation.

"Young human lord, should you have the opportunity, you are welcome to visit Rivendell. You will certainly be treated well there."

Allen was rather surprised to hear this. He barely knew Elrond at all, but he still had his manners.

"Thank you very much, Lord Elrond. I am sure there will be an opportunity."

As he said this, Allen glanced at Gandalf, who was speaking with Lady Galadriel.

Lord Elrond clearly understood what Allen meant. He smiled softly, patted Allen's shoulder, and left.

In his previous life, Allen had often speculated about the relationship between Lady Galadriel and Gandalf.

Many people said that Gandalf was one of the Maiar and far older than Lady Galadriel. That was certainly true. As Olórin, his Maia identity, Gandalf was at least an entire age older than all the Elves, if not more.

But Gandalf was a different identity. When the Maiar left for Middle-earth, they relinquished their power and wisdom and appeared there in the guise of elderly humans.

Viewed that way, it was really no different from being born anew. Presumably, they had relinquished almost all their memories as Maiar too.

If it counted as a new birth, then there was nothing wrong with Lady Galadriel viewing Gandalf as someone of a younger generation.

Yet some people actually claimed that Gandalf and Lady Galadriel were lovers, making a cuckold of Celeborn on the spot.

Now that Allen had met the lady, he wanted to drown anyone who said that in a mouthful of phlegm. How could such a thing be possible? Anyone who said it in front of Gimli would surely get an axe for their trouble.

But these were only idle thoughts. Allen would soon be leaving Lothlórien.

The White Council's meeting had ended, and Allen had to return home.

He was reluctant to leave, but he also knew that he still had many things to do.

Before his departure, Lady Galadriel gave Allen an extraordinary gift.

It was a large quantity of soil imbued with the power of the Ring of Water. Lady Galadriel told Allen that scattering just a little of it over his fields would ensure that the plants within that area grew lush and strong.

Its effects would last a very, very long time. Allen thanked Lady Galadriel and accepted the precious gift. It was something Wilderness Town needed.

Soon, escorted by a small company of Elves from Lothlórien, Allen set out once more on the road back to Wilderness Village. This time, he would have no leisure when he returned, for a great war was approaching.