Comes Around Again (Gigolas & Bagginshield)

The White Council

Gimli looked up at Gandalf. "Time to talk," he repeated. "Very well. To whom will I be talking?"

Gandalf frowned. "To Lord Elrond, and to myself," he said. "There is something suspicious about your dreams and we intend to find out what it is." He crossed his arms, hiding his hands in the folds of his robes. He was not carrying his staff, and Gimli did not see it nearby. That, more than anything, made him narrow his eyes.

"You're scared," Gimli said, realizing it as he spoke. "You're scared and yet you leave your staff behind. What is happening, Gandalf?"

But Gandalf's frown only deepened, and he gestured for Gimli to walk before him. Gimli spared a glance up at the balcony, but none of the Company was watching. With a deep breath, Gimli moved, and Gandalf fell into step behind him, placing a deceptively strong hand on his shoulder.

"Many things are happening," Gandalf said softly, once they were down an empty path. "And I fear there are ears everywhere, and not all of them friendly--not even here. The world is in motion, son of Gloin, and your Uncle is not the only one to read portents."

Gimli thought back to the geode, the image of wealth spoiled with sickness. "You fear the return of the Enemy," Gimli said. "You fear the consequences if Smaug is in the mountain when the Enemy rises, and you fear that no one will hear you until it is too late." Gimli looked back at him. "That was why you went to Thorin; only he would dare brave a dragon on its horde. That is why Radagast's words shook you so."

Gandalf raised an eyebrow. "And did your dreams tell you that?"

Gimli scowled. "I don't need dreams to tell me what my eyes can see," he snapped. Gandalf stopped and pulled Gimli to the side of the path.

"Then you are far more perceptive than your kin," Gandalf snapped, "or I would not need to fight with them as I do. Now tell me: what, exactly, do your eyes see?"

Gimli met Gandalf's eyes properly for the first time since they met in Bag End. He stood tall as was his right as a Lord, and let the weight of his memories come forth. Gandalf leaned back, surprised, but Gimli leaned in close. "They see a world headed for war," he whispered intently. "You are not alone in your fears."

Several emotions crossed Gandalf's face -- surprise, worry, fear, annoyance -- and Gimli crossed his arms and waited. A shadow moved, down the path, and his eyes flicked to see. "Lord Elrond approaches," he said, and Gandalf turned to look.

"Lord Elrond," Gandalf greeted warmly, all trace of his earlier mood gone in a flash. Elrond looked at him as if he knew exactly what shift took place and why.

"Gandalf," he greeted, and then looked to Gimli without a trace of surprise. "Gimli," he said.

"Lord Elrond," Gimli said, and bowed. So Gimli would be telling him after all. Good. Elrond had a way of tempering Gandalf, adding a cooling strength to his more passionate plans. Elrond nodded to him and began to walk down the path, Gandalf walking in step. Gimli once again followed behind, and listened to what they had to say.

"So," Elrond said. "Were you planning on telling me of your plans at any point?" Gimli bit his lip to hide a grin. Elrond sounded like his Ma when Gloin did something foolish, like agree to going on a quest against a dragon without consulting her first.

"Of course I was going to tell you; I was waiting for this very chance. And really, I think you can trust that I know what I'm doing," Gandalf said, rather testily.

"Do you?" Elrond said, raising his eyebrow. "That Dragon has slept for sixty years! What would happen if your plan should fail? If you wake the beast?"

"What if we succeed?" Gandalf pressed. "If the dwarves take back the mountain, our defenses in the East will be strengthened."