Weaving a Song

Chapter 49

c. 2851 TA

Gandalf entered the council chambers where Saruman, Galadriel, Círdan, Elrond, and a few others waited on him. "Mithrandir," Galadriel said, "We were wondering if you would arrive."

"We all know he is never on time." Elrond said smiling.

"I am never late, nor early," Gandalf said "I arrive precisely when I mean too." He said quite definitively. Saruman did not seem as amused as the Elves did, but he said nothing (this could possibly be due to the fact that it was something Gandalf said almost every time he showed up anywhere, because he was, indeed, never on time).

The Council opened with smaller matters, matters that probably would not be the end of the world if left unsaid. Until, that is, Gandalf brought up the matter of Dol Guldur. "I have examined the stronghold myself." He said. "It is none other than Sauron that resides there. I believe we should attack it as soon as possible."

"What proof have you of that?" Saruman asked.

"Three prisoners word as well as my own and that of one other." Gandalf said.

"Not Radagast again," Saruman said.

"No, not Radagast, but I will leave Galadriel and Elrond both to vouch for their own people." Gandalf said. Saruman looked questioningly at two of the Elves in attendance.

"Indeed," Elrond said, "One of the prisoners was an Elf from Imladris long thought dead. He was restored to health and now can testify to the fact that it was indeed Sauron who has been his tormentor."

"The same with the Elf from my realm." Galadriel said.

"A Necromancer, a sorcerer, would have the power to bewitch his prisoners into thinking such thoughts." Saruman said, "But who was the third prisoner? And this other?"

"The prisoner was the King Under the Mountain." Gandalf said.

"Thráin?" Saruman asked incredulous.

"The same, he died shortly after, but before he did he confirmed it as well. He was sane enough to speak of his son and Erebor."

"Proof of nothing," Saruman said, "Do you have any that can be accountable?"

"Yes," Gandalf said, "King Thranduil and his people all have said much the same, and they live close in proximity to this Necromancer."

"Ha, they live in ever encroaching darkness. Who says they are sane? They spend all their time in trees and feasts and strong wine, not much for a reliable people. Besides, were they not considered mad for closing their borders?"

"They are Elves," Galadriel said strangely defensive, "And filled with as much wisdom as they can be. They are deadlier, yes, because they are forced to live in guerrilla warfare with Orcs on a daily basis. Their King, Prince, and Princess have proven themselves wise many times over and I should think they knew a Nazgûl when they saw one. The Nazgûl was even better proof that it is indeed Sauron."

"Nazgûl? The attack on the Queen?" Saruman laughed. "I highly doubt that was actually a Nazgûl. Orcs are well taught in the art of poison, it was only the weakness of the household that caused their Queen to fall." When the other three remained uncomfortably silent, he frowned. Everyone else was watching confused, and slightly scared to intervene. "You really believe a Ringwraith dared attack what you say is a wise Elven realm?"

"I do," Elrond said. "For I treated the Queen myself. I could not rid her of the poison with my power, nor could her sickness be defeated with light. It was an illness of pure darkness and it was that that killed the beloved Queen. Nor do I think Thranduil is easily spied upon as you seem to think. His borders are well guarded and his household is strong, stronger than most because of the imminent darkness." Saruman considered their words.