Not long after Gandalf left the tower of Orthanc.
Lothlórien.
A gentle golden radiance enveloped the entire forest, dyeing even the air in gold.
"Gandalf."
Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel stepped out from the great hall to meet him.
"My greetings to you both."
Gandalf gave a slight bow.
Lady Galadriel spoke softly, asking, "What tidings do you bring?"
"The White Council," Gandalf told them about the convening of the council.
At the end, he added, "By the way, my lady, do you know anything of Saruman of late?"
Galadriel and Celeborn exchanged a glance, each seeing puzzlement in the other's eyes.
"I have not heard any recent news."
"Oh, then I was being presumptuous, please forgive me. I just came from Orthanc, and I saw his right cheek swollen and red. I was quite concerned..."
The three conversed on this matter.
Months later, the same scene unfolded in Lindon.
"I do not know," Círdan also shook his head.
And so Gandalf went around asking for nearly a year, until at last he came to Wayfort.
"Yes, I hit him. He deserved it."
Bzzz.
Garrett stood at the enchanting table, enchanting each of the standard weapons of the fortress, while answering Gandalf.
"What happened?"
"He found the Elendilmir, and kept it hidden in his tower for thousands of years."
"I intended to make a fair trade with him for that gem, but he was too greedy. I had no choice but to... engage in a friendly exchange."
"Friendly... well, relatively speaking, it was friendly."
If it hadn't been, there would be nothing left of him but ashes.
Still...
"So the Elendilmir has been found. And what of the other item lost with it?"
Both of them knew very well what that "other item" was.
"It's not in his possession," Garrett declared with certainty.
"Very well then."
Gandalf let out a sigh.
Perhaps it was also a breath of relief.
He asked again, "The wise from all lands are gathering in Rivendell. What say you?"
Garrett paused in his work.
"Elrond has already spoken with me about this matter. I will attend."
Gandalf nodded.
"The time is near. We can set out together."
"Then let's go."
Finishing the enchantment on one last sword, Garrett placed it upon the rack, beckoned Gandalf, and departed straightaway.
That year, Middle-earth still remained in relative peace.
Both Rohan and Gondor welcomed new rulers.
The twenty-fifth ruling Steward, Ecthelion, and the sixteenth King of Rohan, Thengel.
These two wise rulers would usher in a new era.
Perhaps sensing the coming of a new age, the Wise once again proposed a White Council, and thus they journeyed to Rivendell.
In the spring of 2953, the latest council was convened.
This time, Saruman once again took the leader's seat. The chief participants included Gandalf, Galadriel, Elrond, Círdan, and Garrett.
Of course, the White Council consisted of more than just these few. They were the principal members, but there were also various lords who, in name, were part of the council as well. Most of those lords did not take part directly in discussions, to them, the council's deliberations were more like serious recommendations than binding decrees.
For in the end, even though its members were all great personages, the White Council was only a loosely organized body that met irregularly, without binding authority. No realm was truly obliged to heed its call.
Ah, but this time might be different. That new member, with a single wave of his hand, could summon a formidable host.
In a certain sense, his influence even surpassed that of the High King of the Second Age.
When the council members gathered in Rivendell, every one of them, without speaking, cast a glance at Saruman's right cheek.
So much time had passed that the bruise was long gone, but this act alone deeply offended Saruman.
He shot a glance at Garrett, who did not look his way, only tilting his head as if studying the clouds in the distant sky.
The clouds looked like... well, clouds.
Looking again, Gandalf too was staring upward, seemingly distracted.
Elrond, noticing the oddity, could not help but imagine Saruman's face black and blue.
The three of them each had their own thoughts and quickly looked away.
Only Lady Galadriel and Círdan, their composure refined, appeared no different than usual, betraying nothing of what they were thinking.
But Gandalf, with that loose tongue of his...
Saruman held no expectations.
His face was pulled tight, beard trembling, his mouth twitching askew.
Still, since no one openly exposed him, he could say nothing. After all, hiding away the Elendilmir was, in truth, not an honorable act. Even if people whispered behind his back, he had little choice but to endure.
Once it was confirmed all members were gathered, the council began.
The subject this time was clear: the whereabouts of the One Ring.
Each had their own view, and debate quickly arose.
Gandalf spoke first.
"I saw a ring upon the hand of one of the Nazgûl. It should have been one of the Nine, given to Men."
"That wraith wore the ring while attempting to seize the shipyards at Harlond, but it was driven back."
"The fate of the other Rings is meaningless."
Saruman cut him off:
"We all know that to wield dominion over the other Rings, the Enemy must first have the One."
"The Nazgûl are the exception. They have long been utterly corrupted. Even without the One Ring, the Enemy controls them fully. News of them is irrelevant."
"As for that Ring, it has been lost for ages, unseen for thousands of years."
"My position remains as last time: from all my inquiries, it was long ago carried by the waters of Anduin into the sea. It cannot be found."
"There is no cause for concern."
"You speak of your inquiries?" Garrett interjected.
"I fear they are not so reliable."
At once Saruman's brows knit.
"You never mentioned the Elendilmir was in your possession. You found Isildur's remains, yet secretly took what he carried and hid it away."
At those words, every gaze turned toward him, and Saruman's face grew tight.
"It is no longer with me, but in the hands of a brigand now."
"Did I not pay you your reward?"
Garrett stepped away from the stone pillar he had been leaning on, fixing his eyes on the once-bruised side of Saruman's face.
"Someone suddenly went back on his word. I had no choice but to employ... methods outside of negotiation."
"I merely wished to discuss things further, but you had no patience at all. Your head is filled with nothing but muscle, fight, fight, fight..."
"You were the one who broke your word first, and now you slander me?"
"Enough."
Seeing the council veer off course, Elrond, master of the house, had no choice but to intervene as mediator.
"Garrett has already returned the Elendilmir to the Dúnedain. This matter need not be pursued further."
His words closed Saruman's mouth.
Knowing further debate would only harm him, Saruman swallowed his retort.
Gandalf chuckled under his breath. Saruman cast him a glance, and he quickly regained a grave expression.
"The One Ring has indeed been lost for a long time," Gandalf continued, offering his thoughts:
"For a thousand years, not only Saruman but I myself have searched the vale of Anduin many times, yet never once found a trace of it. Perhaps it truly is no longer in Middle-earth."
"But we must remain vigilant. For even if it has been swept into the sea, it will seek a way to return to its true master."
"Know this: it is not only the wise who can be ensnared by its lure. Fish, sea-beasts, all manner of creatures might be drawn to it and carry it back."
"One day, it could just as easily be dredged up by a wandering fisherman or some traveler by a stream, and then bring about disaster."
"Gandalf speaks true," Lady Galadriel said. "The Enemy's power still gathers. He has never abandoned his designs."
Saruman nodded in agreement.
Thus the tone and course of the meeting were set. Though Saruman's standing in the eyes of the others dropped again, and his pride smarted, the outcome was still favorable to him.
All were convinced the One Ring had been carried into the sea. Their caution was directed elsewhere.
Through it all, the only one who remained mostly silent was Círdan. Though he was a principal member, and Rivendell's ancient guest, he was content simply to bear witness to the great matters of Middle-earth.
Once the council ended, he departed again for Lindon.
Whoosh.
When the meeting concluded, Saruman finally let out a breath of relief, rose, and prepared to depart.
But as he reached the steps, a sudden tremor seized his heart.
He froze and turned back.
There was Garrett, also looking his way, smiling at him with a meaning that could not be mistaken.