Thorin had arrived at some point, his face impassive, but a complex mix of emotions flickering in his eyes as he quietly listened to the argument between the two men below.
Elrond paused and turned to face Gandalf. "The 'dragon-sickness' runs deep in his bloodline, Gandalf. His grandfather, Thrór, was driven mad by it, and his father, Thráin, succumbed to the same affliction. Can you swear to me that Thorin Oakenshield will not fall prey to that sickness?"
Thorin's body tensed almost imperceptibly, shadows falling across his chiselled features. In his voice were pride, anger at having been struck where it hurt, but most of all — a deep, almost agonizing silence.
Gandalf was silent for a few moments, his voice carrying both helplessness and resolve: "Whether we help them or not, the dwarves will still go to the Lonely Mountain. Thorin Oakenshield believes he owes no one any explanations... To be honest, I am beginning to think the same."
They conversed quietly as they ascended the semi-spiral white stone staircase. Leaving the spot where Bilbo and Thorin stood, they made their way toward a small pavilion situated higher up, bathed in moonlight.
Bilbo breathed a sigh of relief, but then was surprised to find Thorin standing directly behind him. However, Thorin seemed not to see him; his gaze remained fixed in the direction where Gandalf and Elrond had disappeared, his eyes darting about.
---
From the pavilion, the view was even more expansive, and the moon hung against the night sky. Elrond stopped and said to Gandalf beside him: "It is not me you need to explain to."
As soon as he finished speaking, he turned slightly and looked toward the observation platform above. Gandalf followed his gaze and saw a tall, graceful Elf-maiden standing quietly there. Gandalf's eyes widened instantly, and a look of surprise appeared on his face. The wrinkles on his face smoothed out, and a genuine, reverent smile bloomed before him. He gave a slight bow and a salute: "Lady Galadriel."
"Mithrandir, it has been a long time," Galadriel said in Elvish.
A flicker of emotion passed through Gandalf's eyes. "Time has changed me, but it has not changed the Lady of the Noldor. I did not know Lord Elrond had informed you of this," Gandalf said, glancing questioningly at Elrond.
"It is not about him, it is about me," came a voice from the shadow of the pillars on the other side, behind Gandalf.
Gandalf's smile instantly froze, replaced by a look of helplessness. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he turned back to face the speaker, a polite smile appeared on his face once more. However, this smile was more deliberate and distant compared to the one he had shown Galadriel. He bowed again in greeting: "Saruman."
From the shadows slowly emerged Saruman, a wizard clad in white. Tall, with white beard and hair, he held a staff, and his white robes were immaculately clean. His expression was indifferent, betraying neither joy nor anger, but rather a condescending and scrutinising gaze.
"It seems you have been very busy lately, my friend," Saruman said in a flat tone.
Gandalf remained composed: "There is no peace in the world, Saruman. There is always something to watch over."
"Such as leading a company of dwarves to disturb a sleeping dragon?" Saruman fixed his gaze on Gandalf.
---
What followed was a debate that continued for nearly the entire night. Gandalf tried his best to describe the shadows spreading across Middle-earth — three trolls, a necromancer, the decay of the forest, and the threat that Smaug might be used for dark purposes. He attempted to convince Saruman that the White Council needed to take more active measures. Supporting the dwarves in reclaiming the Lonely Mountain was crucial to containing potential threats.
However, Saruman took a negative stance, refuting Gandalf's concerns one by one. He attributed it to excessive stress and the influence of Radagast's "bird gossip." He believed that the main enemy, Sauron, had already been defeated, and that it was practically impossible for him to regain his strength, and the remaining armies had also collapsed.
Galadriel mostly listened, slowly pacing the pavilion, her gaze seeming to drift casually over Saruman. In the depths of her keen eyes, a cold gleam occasionally flickered and vanished. She communicated telepathically — a method of communication that only Elrond could perceive.
"Galadriel, Saruman... there is indeed a problem. Saruman's words are not only a denial but also a deliberate attempt to mislead us and lull us into complacency."
"Elrond, Saruman is a Maia. We are here to expose him or confront him — at worst, to destroy his physical form. His spirit will return to Valinor, and we cannot destroy him unless Karl decides to deal with him."
"It seems that is the only way out; for now, let us observe from the shadows."
Saruman stated unequivocally: "...The last of the Seven Dwarven Rings — the Ring of Thráin — vanished long ago. Even if it were still here, Gandalf, without the One Ring, the seven rings would be useless to the enemy. Sauron needed the One Ring to control the others, but that Ring vanished long ago, carried into the sea by the River Anduin!"
Hearing such confident assertions, designed to completely dispel all vigilance regarding the Nazgûl and the other rings... Elrond and Galadriel exchanged glances — were it not for the warning Karl had given them earlier, even they might have been deceived by Saruman's seemingly reasonable but actually malicious words.
The ensuing debate nearly became a one-sided argument between Gandalf and Saruman. Although Gandalf eventually presented the Sword of the Cave that he had obtained from Radagast as irrefutable proof that darkness was indeed awakening, Saruman was still able, through seemingly objective analysis, to casually explain it away as Radagast suffering from drug-induced brain damage. Or perhaps it was a remnant of evil — a frantic denial of the resurgence of organised dark forces.
Galadriel and Elrond played the role of listeners, only speaking when Saruman's gaze swept over them. They gave adequate and measured responses to avoid arousing suspicion.
This long and secret meeting finally ended with Saruman's "victory" at dawn. Saruman successfully dismissed Gandalf's proposal for action, and with a barely concealed satisfaction, was the first to leave the pavilion.
Galadriel, however, remained in Rivendell, stopping not far from Karl's cave. Though she could not directly approach Karl, she could maintain a certain distance, sensing his presence and protecting him.
On the same day that Saruman left, the dwarven expedition was ready to set out at noon. However, Karl was still nowhere to be found, and the dwarves had searched almost every corner of Rivendell they were permitted to enter. They had even asked many passing Elven servants, but received only polite, bewildered shakes of the head in response.