Two men sat at a table in an outdoor courtyard awash in spring sun.  Except that only one of them was a man, and only half man at that.  The other looked like an old man but was something else entirely.

The one with the pointy blue hat was visiting, passing through as he called it.  His dark-haired host welcomed his visits which often lightened his grave countenance.  They caught up on the affairs of Middle Earth and worried about its future. 

“She has gone over? 

“Yes, Gandalf.  Celebrian no longer felt safe.  Though she survived the attack by the orcs, she had become sundered from Middle Earth in spirit.”

“It is not safe, Elrond, truth be told.” Gandalf replied, “Orcs multiply.  They infest all the passes through the Misty Mountains.  There is no present force to stop them”

“There is a larger problem to the south and east” 

“The Balchoth.” Gandalf replied, puffing on his pipe

“Word has come to me that Gondor intends to make battle with them west of the Undeeps in Calenardhon.”  Elrond unfolded a piece of paper and nudged it Gandalf’s way.

Gandalf perused the message, borne to Rivendell on the wings of a hawk released from Minas Tirith two days past.

“The Northern Army is outnumbered.  They seek aid.”

“We cannot help them in any material way, Gandalf.  And there are no great kingdoms of men who can.  Arnor has disappeared.  Most of Eriador is empty, save for settlements in Bree, Hobbits in the Shire and Dunlendings to their south.”

“What of the men of the north?  The Eotheod grow and prosper.  They are fine horsemen, fierce and well-armed to defend their realm.”  Gandalf replied.

“All well and good they are.  But how likely are they to pick up stakes and ride more than 200 leagues south to join Gondor in engaging the Balchoth in battle?”

“Perhaps we should find out” Gandalf replied

Elrond raised his eyebrows at what seemed to be a spurious thought.

‘Find out?  Do you propose to hazard the orc infested passes and trudge seventy leagues north to pose such a question?  Even if you arrived unscathed, the battle at the Undeeps would be long over ‘ere any aid could arrive” Elrond replied dismissively

“There is one there already who can answer.  I saw him off over a fortnight past as he made way north for a visit he makes once every ten years.”

“Who?”

“Aragost.  He was last there during the reign of Leod.  Leod who is nine years dead with his son Eorl now as Lord of the realm.  Surely we can spare a hawk to make inquiry with a message of our own.  Aragost will attach his reply to it.”

“You cannot expect him to rouse the Eotheod to Gondor’s aid, Gandalf.  They are safe and remote and will not risk all on the word of a single man, even if he is Isildur’s heir, which will mean little to them.”

“I have no expectations.  I am just an old wizard seeking knowledge.”

Elrond looked at him narrowly.

“There is something more to this than meets the eye, but I know better than to spend my time trying to pry it out of you.  Very well.  We shall release a hawk.  With favorable wind and weather, he may return in three days.”

“Plenty of time to get about.  I understand young Aravorn is about with Elladan and Elrohir, learning woodcraft and orc stalking.”

“He is a quick study, Gandalf.  You also might pay a call on Arahad who is my guest for the while, enjoying time with his grandson when the day’s lessons are done.”

“That I will.  Many a year it has been since I met with him and a much younger Aragost at the Prancing Pony to talk of the end of the Watchful Peace.  All in good time.”