Spock allowed himself to flow into the familiar state where the world faded away, where actions became only convenient metaphors, where minds touched and merged.

Something was very different. He could no longer sense that he had merged with only one mind. There might have been one mind or several and there seemed to be no boundaries. He considered breaking the meld, but was immediately inundated by waves of reassurance. Gandalf was not a passive participant, and that was something new.

Spock continued, awed by the sheer size and complexity of the tapestry of memory and knowledge. He began following the threads, easily moving between warp and weft. Images, names and connections appeared to him: Eregion, Elven-smiths, Sauron, Mount Doom, Smeagol, Isildur, the Last Alliance, Saruman, Mordor, …

The landscape of Mordor reminded him of home. Immediately, the image of two trees, one silver and one gold, appeared: Valinor, Telperion, Laurelin, …, and quickly faded, replaced by another: unmistakably Vulcan.