The Dream - Part 5

by Bex

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, I stirred, opened an eye, and crept out of bed, still in Imladris...and no lightning struck. Instead, bright morning sunlight streamed through the windows.

So far, so good.

I sat on the edge of my bed and stared at my bare toes where they peeked out from under the edge of the white linen shift, and considered my situation.

Still here. My second day (third if you counted the time they claimed I'd been unconscious) in another world...or dreaming. I'd never heard of a dream where one slept...but that didn't necessarily prove anything. After all, while you were in it it might seem completely real in all respects... right?

Which begged the unsettling question of what was left at that point to make it 'unreal'.

Gods, when was I going to wake up?! Then again...why hurry back? If one had to be pulled into a different world...one could do so much worse than Imladris.

The House was apparently, among other things, the local equivalent of a 4 star hotel. I performed cursory morning abulations, twisted my hair into a knot using my hair elastic, then slid the utterly simple blue-gray linen shift/overtunic I'd worn yesterday over my head, slipped on sandles, and set off to re-find the dining hall.

Temeril materialized at my elbow before I'd gone ten paces from my room. One moment I was glancing out a hall window, the next he was there--

I let out a squeak of surprise, then stared at him with narrowed eyes. He smiled warily as he wished me a good morning, aware that I was suddenly irritated at him but perhaps not quite certain why.

"Good morning," I reciprocated a trifle sourly. "And how long were you there waiting for me?"

He shrugged slightly. "I rose early, attended to some duties, then came here."

I noted that he hadn't answered my question, but already another question begged to be asked. "Don't you have family here? Where are your mother and father?"

To my surprise, he shook his head, then explained that his parents lived in the settlement at the Gray Havens, involved in the rather crucial trade of the building of ships fit to make the voyage to Valinor. Sindril and Aevis of the Havens. They had arranged for his residence here in Imladris, under Elrond's authority, until he was (by elvish standards) an adult, a status he'd attained about five years ago. At that time, he'd pledged service to the lord of Imladris for a further period. Apparently a custom not dissimilar to the old Earth custom of fosterage - with post-doctorates - held sway here.

"Oh." I smiled, my mood settling back down again. "Have you made yourself my squire, then?"

Picking up on both the teasing and the actual question, he pulled a face before answering, with a smile, "Would you have me abandon you to wander Imladris alone, after leading you here?"

He had a point - this was apparently a lad who took his responsibilities seriously. "As long as I don't keep you away from your other duties..."

"In this sort of situation one might expect some exceptions to be made to the usual routine." The voice was tinged with amusement, and belonged to Gandalf, watching us from the dining hall's porch as we approached.

"Good morning to you, too." I wasn't quite so intimidated by him now...though still wary. But more because of the changeable nature and hidden power I sensed from him than any feeling of specific threat. At any rate, my smile now was genuine and spontaneous. Somewhat to my own surprise.

He inclined his head a fraction in the usual subtle, classy, and all-purpose Ardan greeting.

But as we mounted the steps and were about to pass inside, he asked suddenly, "Lady Sarah...a moment of you time, if you will. What were your...duties in the land from whence you came?"

I paused, considering how to best word it. Non-fiction writing, some of it quite technical... "I was...a scribe of sorts," I told him finally. He nodded. "But at night, on my own time"... and here I smiled broadly... "I wrote original stories...stories never seen before."

He nodded again, slowly. "You were a recorder of tales."

"A creator of stories. New tales," I corrected him proudly. And then my guide and I continued inside, leaving the wizard to peer after us. I was left with the impression that he was mulling over my choice of words.

*****

As I had expected, I was called to council after breakfast. Temeril was not. I seated myself at a table in one of the library rooms, as close to a proper conferance room as I'd seen thus far.

Several other people had joined us this time. A blond elf who exuded a wise mien rather similar to Imladris's lord, another dark-haired elf, and a fair-haired she-elf.

Elrond introduced them briefly: Glorfindal, Mearin, and Jonil. Each inclined his or her head in greeting, then fastened their gazes on me. "You may speak freely here," he added.

Of course I could. I stared back at them and wondered how to begin. Then, the most urgent and salient question came to mind. "What year is it?"

"3018, by our reckoning. Spring, as you can see - April." It was Gandalf who answered.

"Were you on your way to or from the Shire when you stopped here?"

"I am on my way there."

I let out a sigh of relief. "All right, good. It's not too late, and events here seem to synch with the details in the tales I have heard. You do understand that they may not match in all respects?"

Heads nodded.

"To establish a bit of credibility, I shall tell you this. If it matches enough, then we'll have something to work with, yes? Something few to none outside this room should know."

More nods.

"The One Ring has been found, and is currently but unwittingly in the hands of Frodo Baggins of Bag End, Hobbiton."

The room went very still. There was a long moment of silence. Then, across the table, Gandalf sighed and nodded, glancing down, as if all his strength had momentarily run out of him with the admission.

"You were on your way there now to perform one last test, and warn him."

"Yes." His glance returned to my face as he recovered himself.

My God, the power I held right now...if one counted information as power. It was a heady... and terrifying moment.

I looked at my own recently-gnawed fingernails for a moment, then back up at my companions. "Do you want to know what happens?" I asked quietly, but before anyone could answer, I added, "There's just one problem: How do I know that telling you won't set in motion changes that lead to a different outcome than what our tales told?"

Glances were passed around the table.

"Maybe I wasn't supposed to come here. Maybe this is all a big mistake." You understand now?

"In the tales you heard... The outcome was... positive?" Glorfindal asked.

"Ultimately, yes."

"In what way?" That was Elrond.

I considered my words carefully. 'Sauron's threat to Arda was ended."

More glances flew around the table. More than glances, too. Without being able to see the 'content' this time, I sensed information was being passed and shared as well.

"Also...just because I have heard the tales of...what came to pass...does not mean it will all come to pass exactly so, here."

Gandalf peered at me intently. "Nor does it mean it will necessarily not come to pass."

"True," I conceeded. "But it all comes down to this: Do you still feel I was meant to come here and tell you this?"

Their gazes turned thoughtful, Gandalf's and Elrond's especially so, perhaps as the impetus behind some of my unanswered questions from yesterday became clear.

Maerin, the blond-haired female elf, spoke then. "You have asked us this question...what does your own heart say?" I shot her a panicked glance. Oh, no - they weren't putting that onus on me! "Don't ask me that." This wasn't even my world; they expected me to make that sort of judgement call?!

"For all your protestations, you are here now," Elrond helpfully reminded me. "What does that tell you?"

I snarled inwardly. "That I'm unusually unlucky?" Across the table, Gandalf's mouth quirked momentarily.

Jonil had said nothing thus far; simply listened. But now he spoke. "Why did you speak of this at all, if you are so unwilling to do so now?"

Five gazes fastened expectantly on me. And waited. That was the salient question. Why had I opened my mouth last night; what urgency had propelled me?

I want to save lives, I thought to myself. I want to avoid the suffering. I know what's going to happen; like a gigantic obstacle course, I would detour around it, if I could. So many lives saved; so much horror averted...

Five gazes softened somewhat, and Elrond spoke. "Some destinies, it seems, cannot be averted... Yet, had I known in my past what I know now...I cannot say that I would not have taken...certain actions, if I could," he admitted quietly.

I thought of the failed chance to destroy the Ring that first time, upon Mount Doom, and nodded. I would, too. I would, too. To Hell with 'History' and 'noble quests'. This isn't a stirring tale, this is peoples' lives! I also thought of the mutability...that sometimes occured in the affairs of Arda. Hell, across from me sat a being who'd gotten to come back from the dead! I glanced away self-consciously as Glorfindal's gaze sharpened again. All right, it didn't happen often, but those sorts of...'reboots' did happen from time to time here. Was it so different, or wrong, to simply use information to our best advantage?

Knowledge was power...and I had it.

Feel like playing God...Sarah?

And the answer to that was...YES.

~End part 5~