"All right. Thank you… I'll do my best," said Miquella as he carefully stored both seeds. Yavanna did not avert her gaze for a single moment. "But I still believe you're placing too much hope in my choices… in my morals, which I myself don't consider reliable," he added with a bitter smile.
"Perhaps…" she replied, thoughtful. "But maybe the time I spent with your sister gave me the impression I could trust you."
"Sister!?" exclaimed Miquella, leaping to his feet. His countenance changed instantly, leaving all serenity behind.
"I think you could call her that, couldn't you?" murmured Yavanna, as if still pondering the word.
"What sister!? Who!? When!?" he asked, completely agitated. She had touched his most sensitive nerve. The emotions he thought he had under control overflowed at once.
"I'm sorry… but I can't tell you," Yavanna replied, genuine sorrow in her eyes.
"Why not?! TELL ME!!" he demanded, stepping forward, on the verge of seizing her and shaking her just to force out the truth. If one of his sisters was here, in this world, he had to know.
"Because I don't think it's what she wants," she answered calmly, unfazed by his outburst. "I thought that by the time she came, she would've already found you, just as she said she would. But when I saw your reaction to me, I knew it wasn't so. I'm sorry, but you'll have to wait a little longer. She will come to you… and with her will come many answers. I don't want to spoil that moment or reveal something she isn't ready to tell you." She paused, sighing as if reliving old memories. "After all, I believe we can consider ourselves old companions," she added with a faint smile. "We worked together in the past. If you don't believe me, you can go to the Grey Mountains and see the result of her collaboration with my husband… Though, well, part of that legacy rests with some of the companions you now have."
Miquella trembled within. He felt the truth was within reach… and yet it slipped away. One of his sisters? Here? And she didn't want him to know yet? It was too much. He debated whether to do everything in his power to tear the information from the Valar, or accept that he would have to wait… a little longer… for what might be the best news since he had arrived in this world.
In the end, all he could do was release a sigh heavy with frustration, clenching his fists as he gathered strength for the day that awaited reunion might finally come.
"I'm sorry," Yavanna continued, in an almost maternal tone. "But I believe she has her reasons. In any case… it was my mistake to present myself so soon. I imagine she'll be upset for not being able to surprise you with her appearance. She had been waiting for that reunion for a long time…" Her words were meant as comfort, though their effect was minimal. "If you don't mind, I can try to answer another question, while I can."
Miquella nodded, containing the storm in his chest.
"Fine… I have one question," he said at last, surrendering for now on the previous topic. "Why place so much hope in me? If you so desire this world to be saved… why don't you, or the other Valar, come directly and end the problem? You managed to 'slip away,' as you call it. Why not give these seeds, or some other weapon, to the natives of Arda so they can destroy Melkor's servants once and for all?"
Yavanna lowered her gaze, sighed, and then answered, staring into the horizon:
"Little Maiar… our Father imposed rules. It was through those very rules that I was able to come here, exploiting their gaps… but those same rules also keep us from doing more. Listen well, because this is something you will have to understand when the time comes: the Valar can only fight other Valar. We cannot intervene directly, unless another Valar is involved. That is the law." She paused, as if weighing her words. "Now you bear the power of a Maiar, but if one day you reach our level, you will have to obey those same rules. That is how all of us act in Arda. Remember it well… for yourself, and for those who will stand beside you. This struggle is more complex than you think. And you will need to understand this in order to move your pieces when the moment comes."
Miquella observed her in silence. He knew much more was left unsaid.
He still had a thousand questions. How rigid were those rules, truly? Didn't giving him the seeds count as "intervention"? How much leeway did the Valar really have? What exactly did "interfere" mean?
And above all… which of his sisters was here? Malenia? Ranni…? Melina…?
But he had no chance to voice them.
The conversation, like morning mist, faded away without leaving a trace. Yavanna simply… would not say more.
"Well… I suppose I should leave before they notice my absence and discover I came to see you," Yavanna said with a touch of resignation. "Though… it's likely Manwë has already noticed."
"I suppose this is the end…" sighed Miquella, still processing everything he had just lived. He had not imagined having such a conversation today. "I hope we can speak again soon… I have many more questions."
Yavanna smiled… but her reply was disconcerting.
"Hehe… I hope not."
Miquella raised an eyebrow, puzzled.
"Mandos warned me," she continued, amused. "He said he had foretold a future where you, young Miquella, might become the downfall of many of us… the female Ainur. That you would drag us into carnal delight, robbing us of our place among the divine, and that some of us would even accept it gladly."
Miquella watched in astonishment as the Valar spoke those words. She said them with the same natural ease with which she maintained her smile, with no trace of concern on her face.
"But… if you do things right," she said, gently caressing the divine child's cheek, "I see no problem in sacrificing myself for this world. Even if that means frolicking in your bed as a mortal woman… if you can grant this world a better future, I think I wouldn't mind."
The woman smiled one last time before withdrawing her hand from Miquella's face. Then she turned and walked away, but not without uttering a few final words.
"You should return soon. Your followers might end up ravaging the forest in their search for you. Ah… and my husband's children are about to get themselves into trouble. I imagine you'll want to give them a hand." She paused for a moment, as if recalling something else. "And… if it's not too much to ask, could you keep an eye on Radagast? He's a good soul, though a bit lost. Perhaps you can help him resume his mission in a way… more fitting for him."
Yavanna resumed her graceful stride, but just before disappearing completely into the magical mist of the forest, and as if she had felt Miquella's intense gaze on her back, she lifted her dress to reveal, for only a couple of seconds, the divine curve of her flawless body and her intimacy… as provocative as it was unforgettable.
"Be a good boy… and give your sister my regards," she said with a melodious voice, just before vanishing completely.
And with her, the forest in which they stood also vanished, as if all had been but a dream.
Miquella stood there, frozen in place. He could not erase from his mind that rear and that forbidden valley of divine beauty.
"Damn it," he exclaimed aloud, unable to contain himself. "For some reason, I suddenly feel an immense urge to save this world."
Sighing inwardly, Miquella decided to leave his questions for later and focus on what was happening now. He raised his hand with the ring and, in a clear voice, proclaimed:
"ELDENS!"
From the ring, an invisible wave spread through the forest like a great tide, altering nothing visible… until it struck certain figures desperately searching among the trees.
Leda and the others felt their lord's presence like a whisper in their souls. A silent yet unmistakable call that shook them to the core. Without hesitation, they ran toward the origin of the call.
Miquella watched them appear one by one, with eyes full of worry but also relief at finding him. Leda, in particular, could barely remain standing from the accumulated tension. She almost fell to her knees upon seeing him.
"My lord…" she murmured weakly, struggling to straighten herself.
"Forgive my absence," said Miquella firmly, approaching her and trying to help her up, with little success. "I had an… unexpected meeting. But there's no time now. Ready your weapons. We must save some dwarves."
The Eldens asked no questions. They accepted the order with their characteristic efficiency. Even Leda, though still exhausted, straightened with determination, ready to follow him.
"Yes, my lord!" they replied in unison, and began the march.
Miquella climbed onto Freya's back so as not to slow the advance. Besides, none wished to lose sight of him again.
…
Meanwhile, the situation with the dwarves had become chaotic… and no one understood how it had escalated so quickly. Bilbo, for his part, only wanted to sit down and cry.
First, he had gone to look for the Eldens in vain. Then, upon returning to warn his companions, he had the misfortune of being captured by a troll trying to steal the ponies. The hobbit ended up being dragged along as either dessert or main course—it wasn't clear yet: the trolls argued over the preparation while he struggled.
Fortunately, two dwarf sisters heard his cries. They rushed to rescue him and nearly succeeded. Though both were skilled warriors, the trolls were strong, numerous, and had the advantage: a hostage.
The dwarves fought back, but the result was a bitter trade. One managed to free Bilbo but was trapped in exchange. When the rest of the company arrived after searching for them desperately, they found a desperate scene: the trolls held Kilian in their claws, threatening to tear her apart if they did not surrender.
Thorin could not refuse. He could not allow anyone in the Company to suffer such a fate, least of all his niece.
"Do not surrender! Attack!" shouted Kilian, ready to die. She had fulfilled her goal: rescuing the hobbit, the valuable friend of the Elden leader.
"Shut up!" growled Guille, squeezing the young dwarf so hard she cried out in pain.
"Let her go!" roared Thorin, eyes blazing with rage, gripping his sword even tighter. "We surrender!"
"Attack! I'm dead anyway!" insisted Kilian desperately, knowing it was her life or everyone else's.
One of the trolls, Bert, raised his fist to intimidate her with another squeeze—not enough to kill her, of course; they knew their hostage was their greatest advantage—but at that very moment, one of them released the dwarf as he let out a piercing cry.
"Aaaauuuu! My back! My baaaack!" screamed Tom, writhing as he tried, with clumsy hands, to reach something on his back that clearly tormented him.
Turning, the dwarves and Bilbo saw in astonishment that the troll's back was covered in blue blades, deeply embedded. They glowed briefly before vanishing like smoke.
At that instant, war cries erupted from the forest. The Eldens burst forth like a pack of starving wolves, hurling themselves mercilessly at the trolls, with the fury of those long under strain… (and perhaps their lord's disappearance had nothing to do with it).
The dwarves did not take long to react. Filian and Kilian were the first to act. Filian, now held by only one troll, drew a hidden knife and drove it into the hand restraining her. Kilian, for her part, unsheathed her bow and loosed a precise arrow… straight into the giant's groin. Thus, the hostage was freed.
The battle quickly turned in favor of what could well be called the Company of Erebor. Together, dwarves and Eldens fought fiercely, but the trolls were no easy prey. These specimens, hailing from the northern mountains, had skin as tough as stone, hard to pierce.
The first to fall was Tom, already weakened by Miquella's magic. He was followed by Guille, whose guard completely broke after taking several arrows in a… delicate area.
Only Bert remained, and upon seeing his brothers fall, he exploded into a savage fury. He charged like an unleashed beast, hurling several dwarves and Eldens through the air, or forcing them aside to avoid his path. His gaze was fixed on the dwarf sisters, whom he blamed for everything.
But Thorin intervened. He leapt onto the troll with his sword raised, plunging it deep into his clavicle. He managed to divert the deadly charge… but at the cost of being dragged along by Bert's massive body. Both tumbled several meters away from the rest of the group, separated and vulnerable.
Bert failed his goal, but though wounded and aware of his imminent end, he was determined to take someone with him. With Thorin in his sights, the troll lunged at him with erratic movements and open jaws, ready to bite him to death. Just as the others realized they wouldn't reach in time, an unexpected salvation arrived.
Bilbo, who had been watching everything from a safe distance, was now the closest. Seeing Thorin defenseless and about to be devoured, something stirred within him… courage. Perhaps it was thanks to the training and many stumbles during the journey, or perhaps it was pure bravery he'd always had deep inside… but without thinking, he ran toward the troll.
With agility, he climbed Bert's back, took the knife hanging from his belt, and in a desperate act, drove it with all his strength into one of his eyes.
The troll roared in agony. His body no longer responded as before, and the hobbit's attack—using his own weapon against him—took him completely by surprise.
Thorin, shaking off his daze, rose just in time to help Bilbo drive the blade deeper.
But Bert, in his last breath, rammed his massive head forward, striking them both brutally. He didn't care about losing an eye if he was already going to die. He ignored the pain. He only wanted to take someone with him.
With the knife still lodged in his face, a dwarven sword in his torso, and dozens of arrows in his back from the dwarven reinforcements coming after him, Bert prepared for his final strike.
It was then that—
*Puff!*
A long, sturdy staff pierced his second eye, sinking so deep the troll barely had time to let out a dry groan before collapsing like a felled tree.
Gandalf, withdrawing the base of his staff from the beast's skull, remarked:
"Seems I almost arrived late to the party."
With those words, the looming death dissipated. Thorin and Bilbo, freed from the tension, let out a deep sigh and collapsed to the ground, gasping.