It's about two weeks before Midsummer, and the new gossip is that Mithrandir has stopped by again in his travels - this time with a group of twelve dwarves in tow. Why is a matter of some debate, as is what the dwarves are doing, so far from both their mountain dwellings and from the main road to the east and south.
"We'd be glad to have you. Come, let's meet the others." He stands, sending a few last puffs of smoke into the air before putting away his pipe.
She smiles and gestures for him to lead the way.
The dwarves are gathered in one of the halls, speaking in groups among themselves. Some of the younger looking ones are laughing loudly. One of the older dwarves looks over when Silivchen and the wizard approach, and says, "Gandalf. Who is this?"
"An old friend of mine," the wizard replies. "And perhaps a solution to some of your problems."
"I'm Silivchen, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." She smiles.
"Thorin," the dwarf says, evaluating her. "Leader of this Company."
"Mithrandir tells me you're seeking to retake Erebor."
"That is our goal, yes. Though many seem to seek to stand in our way."
"Could you explain what you mean by that?"
"Beyond those we would expect as our enemies? Many people have been trying to argue us out of this proposition, or actively delay us."
"That must be frustrating. Are people concerned that you'll be unable to defeat Smaug without significant collateral damage?"
Privately to Mithrandir she asks Why are you choosing now to support this expedition? Erebor fell centuries ago.
"I suspect that's the most common objection, yes. Our current plan doesn't involve direct confrontation at all, but they don't seem to believe we have any concept of misdirection or stealth."
'Well, there really is no time like the present. The whole situation has been rather languishing.'