"What you're seeing may not be an empty surface at all, but a pair of eyes staring back at you..."
The thought grew more unsettling the more Garrett considered it.
Stiffly, he raised a hand and waved at the presence in the Mirror, his attempt at a greeting.
What happened next differed somewhat from what he'd expected. The "other him" within the water did nothing dramatic; he merely smiled, an enigmatic smile that, upon closer inspection, even carried a trace of warmth.
He nodded at Garrett in acknowledgment.
At the same time, ripples spread across the basin.
The vision vanished.
"What did you see?" Lady Galadriel asked, leaning closer and finding only an ordinary, placid bowl of water.
"Nothing much, looks like I was startled by some future version of myself playing a prank."
Lady Galadriel closed the silver ewer in silence; for a moment she had no idea how to respond. Frightening one's past self... well, that was certainly characteristic of this ally of hers.
"I hope your future brings you joy," she said at last.
"Thank you. And may yours be as well."
With that, the brief interlude concluded.
Garrett did not sleep that night. Instead, he found a platform high among the branches where the view was splendid and lay there watching the scenery until dawn.
Though things felt somewhat enclosed below, from up in the tree the panorama was magnificent, especially from so tall a mallorn. From there he could see above the forest canopy.
Day or night, the sight was breathtaking.
At sunrise he headed back toward the guest quarters. Reaching the base of the tree, he noticed an elf standing at the doorway, hand raised as though about to knock.
"I'm over here!" Garrett called, waving.
"Ah, there you are," the elf said.
He gestured toward two large burlap sacks. When Garrett opened them, he found them filled with neat, square wafers wrapped in mallorn leaves.
"So many..."
Two large sacks, there had to be hundreds.
They were being remarkably generous.
"Please convey my gratitude to Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn," Garrett said.
At those words, the elf's expression showed understanding. "The Lady foresaw that you would say so. She told me you needn't give it another thought. Whenever you wish, you're welcome to visit us again."
Garrett smiled. "I will remember."
"Please wait a moment—"
Just as Garrett finished storing the lembas, the elf spoke again, "I've heard many tales of your deeds. I have a personal request..."
"Of course."
"May I examine your sword?"
"Of course. Here."
Garrett drew Bane and handed it to him.
"My thanks."
The elf unsheathed the longsword, studying it from tip to guard. He brushed a hand along the edge, feeling its keen bite.
"I can sense it, our people's blessing lies upon this blade."
"May its master cleave through thorns and darkness, pass through flame and shadow."
He added his own blessing.
The sword slid back into its scabbard, and he returned it to Garrett.
"I should be the one thanking you," Garrett said sincerely. "Might I learn your name?"
The elf shook his head. "Think nothing of it, my friend."
"I can feel the darkness growing stronger, like a deepening shadow, slow and heavy. It has retreated for now, but it will soon return. If this blessing can aid you when that time comes, that will be the finest repayment I could ask."
With that, he turned and walked away without looking back.
Garrett stood there, watching the elf's departing figure.
"...Alright. I will. I promise."
But...
Sometimes, the mysterious mannerisms and reserved ways of elves really could be somewhat vexing. Not even leaving a name behind?
Still, that was no obstacle for him.
He went straight to someone familiar: Haldir.
"Do you know the elf who brought me the lembas?"
"Oh?"
Haldir thought for a moment, then said, "I did see an elf carrying two large sacks toward your quarters. If I'm not mistaken, that was Kern."
"What about him?"
Garrett recounted what had happened earlier that morning.
Haldir chuckled. "Not surprising. Among us, he's always been rather unconventional. If you rise early enough, you'll often spot him on the highest platform, gazing at the sunrise, every morning, without fail."
"Ah, a light-loving elf, then."
"Exactly. He's always been drawn to things that shine brightly."
"Things that shine..."
Something clicked in Garrett's mind.
"This journey's brought me much, but it's time I moved on."
He bid farewell to Haldir, then stopped by the central hall to pay his respects to the Lord and Lady once more.
"May Eärendil's light guide your path," they said, seeing him off and indicating the way.
Before long, Garrett found himself on a vast flower-covered plain beyond the forest, but he didn't head home. Instead, he changed direction and set out for Lake-town.
---
At the borders of Mirkwood, people moved constantly up and down the lifts. Minecart tracks clattered as cart after cart of stone rumbled past.
"That's it, just like that, set that block down! Good! Next one!"
At the construction site, dwarves were directing the roadworks, providing safety instructions and sharing their expertise.
"You there! Make sure that rope's secure. Don't worry, it's as tough as my beard. Won't let you fall."
That just made them more anxious.
Still, the remark made one worker smile despite himself. For some reason, hearing the dwarves' gruff voices and the occasional rough-edged dwarvish humor made people at the construction site less fearful of the height. Some even started to grow accustomed to it, working while exchanging banter with the dwarves.
It had to be said, thanks to the dwarves' experience and equipment, progress on the wide, elevated road was not only swift but accelerating.
"At this rate, it won't even take ten years to finish. No, not even five, maybe even less..."
---
At Lake-town, in the administrative office, Bard stared at the latest reports, letting out a sigh of wonder.
"Remarkable progress, isn't it?"
Garrett openened the door and stepped in. "Thranduil simply granted all the airspace the skybridge will pass through, it's now technically within my territory. Makes it pretty secure."
"When everyone supports something, it's difficult for it to fail," Bard said. "Unless all those people are your enemies."
"How have you been lately?"
"Not bad. Took a little trip to Azog's old home, but let's just say his family wasn't very welcoming. And there's a big guy there, bigger trouble than a dragon. We fought for days without a clear winner."
"Someone who can match you for days?"
Bard raised his eyebrows, intrigued.
As he poured tea for Garrett, he said, "I'd genuinely like to witness that. If you ever need assistance, my bow remains ready. I haven't allowed my skills to deteriorate."
"No need," Garrett replied, drinking the still-steaming tea in one go. "I believe you'd have the courage to face it, but that thing isn't something any mortal could handle"
No matter how skilled the mortal.
"Whether it's your bow, the dwarves' crossbows, or even the Black Arrow, it's all useless. Ordinary attacks melt before they even get close."
"To it, dragons are just mounts, you understand?"
"...What is this creature you're describing? Is it truly that formidable?"
Bard was clearly skeptical now.
"That's a being even Sauron himself must treat with caution. A creature of ancient malice, the very force that destroyed the dwarven kingdom of Khazad-dûm, a Balrog."