(Author Note: these will be used to designate the different language – “English”, “Sindarin”, “Quenya”, “Westron” and “Goa’uld”)

“What the hell happened here?” O’Neill demanded as the wormhole shut off.

“It looks like there has been a fight, sir,” Carter replied, sounding perfectly reasonable.

“I can see that, Carter,” he responded, pulling out a zat gun and vaporising the Jaffa lying around the gate. “But since when do arrows win against zat guns and staff weapons?”

“Since today I guess.”

“The warrior who did this was a good shot.” Teal’c commented from where he was by the dead Goa’uld. He pointed to the hand device that had one of the green fletched arrows through the centre circle and out the back of the hand. “They would have had bare seconds to make that shot. To get the arrow through the centre like it is would have taken great strength.”

From where they were hidden Legolas and Strider shared a look. Another group of people, speaking another incomprehensible language. At least it was a different language from the last group, but that didn’t mean they weren’t just as dangerous.

“I’m more amazed by the one through the neck,” Carter commented. “That would have killed both the host and symbiont instantly.”

“What I’m more worried about is the bodies are still warm,” Jack stated.

“You think the ones who killed them are still nearby, sir?” Carter asked.

“I’d bet on it. Take a look around but be careful, they may have killed the Goa’uld but that doesn’t mean they won’t kill us.”

Daniel barely acknowledged the order drifting further from the site of the battle, finding plenty of things to fascinate him. At least until he pulled up short with a long, sharp looking sword at his throat.

“Um...hi,” he stammered, for want of anything else to say. The man holding the sword looked human enough, but the being behind him with him firmly in the sights of his readied bow wasn’t. In fact...he looked like a... “Chalk another legend up as actually being true,” he mumbled softly.

“What are you doing here?” The blond elf demanded, not that Daniel could understand the language, beautiful though it was.

“What?”

“Try Westron,” the human suggested.

“What are you doing here?”

Daniel guessed that the words were likely the same as the previous sentence, as it was obviously a different language, but he was no closer to knowing what had been said then the first question.

The man sighed and spoke yet another language. “What are you doing here?” Unfortunately it met with the same results.

Jack, Sam and Teal’c had approached cautiously, trying to indicate that they didn’t want to fight. They froze when Legolas shifted his aim to them.

“Stay back!”

“I don’t need a linguist to interpret that one,” Jack quipped.

“Yes, but how do we convince them that we’re not the enemy?”

“Are you not a threat then?” A strong voice intruded, causing the three to jump. Daniel didn’t dare startle but he saw the look of relief flit over the faces of the two in front of him.

“Would we be standing here like this rather than shooting at them if we were a threat?” Jack demanded.

“Great one, Colonel,” Sam sighed. “Antagonise the only person on this planet who speaks English.”

The tall being stepped out of the trees shrouded in a grey cloak but far from being offended he chuckled.

“Shooting didn’t do the Goa’uld much good did it?”

“You know of the Goa’uld?”

“They are the reason this Stargate was buried,” he replied, the shadow of some bad memory flickering across his aged face.

“Mithrandir,” Strider interrupted, “it is great that you can speak their language. But it would be nice to know what is going on.”

“Patience, Strider. I am in the process of finding out why they are here.” He turned back to SG1, “Why are you here?”

“We heard some rumours that the Goa’uld had taken an increased interest in this world. We were sent to make sure they didn’t get their hands on it.”

“By destroying it?”

“No! By protecting it if at all possible. By helping you protect yourselves. By warning you to bury the Stargate again. Any of those ways but certainly not by destroying it,” Daniel exclaimed.

“You are a scholar, your companions are warriors. I am sure they see it differently.”

Jack shifted uncomfortably. “That would be a last resort, and only if it were a device.”

Gandalf looked at him intently then nodded as if satisfied. “Legolas, Strider. Stand down, they are not our enemies.” Immediately Strider lowered the sword and Legolas relaxed, returning the arrow to his quiver.

“What languages were those three?” Daniel asked curiously, his fascination with anything new coming to the fore now that he no longer had a sword at his throat.

Mithrandir chuckled, “First let me introduce us. I am Gandalf, called Mithrandir by the elves. The archer is Legolas, an elf from Mirkwood. And the swordsman is Strider, a Ranger of the North.”

“I’m Jack O’Neil,” Jack responded, then nodded at each of his companions in turn. “Samantha Carter, Teal’c, and Daniel Jackson.”

Mithrandir translated smoothly for the elf and ranger then turned back to Daniel. “You asked about the three languages. Legolas first spoke Sindarin to you, then Westron; the most widely spoken language in Arda, then Strider spoke in Quenya.”

Hearing the language names spoken Strider guessed the general topic that they were talking about and commented, “I was going to try Dwarvish next.”

Mithrandir chuckled, then answered Daniel’s curious look, “He was going to try Dwarvish next if I had not shown up when I did.”

“There are Dwarves here too?”

“Oh yes. Hobbits too, and several races of Man as well as a lot of less savoury species.”

“Goa’uld?” Jack asked tensely.

Mithrandir hesitated before answering, “That is a long complicated story, Jack O’Neil. And would be best told if we were not standing under the shadow of that thing over there.”

SG1 agreed cautiously and, after a bit of translating back and forth, Legolas and Strider led them to their camp.