Disclaimer: All recognisable characters, places and names are the property of The Author, JRR Tolkien.
Race with Wrath
"I think, Elrond, that in this matter it would be well to trust rather to their friendship than to great wisdom." – The Ring Goes South, FOTR
Prologue
It was late in the night, and only a few souls in Rivendell still walked the waking world. Thus few marked the arrival of a lone rider atop a splendid white horse, nor see the hushed meeting between the rider and the Master of Imladris under the clear night sky.
"Thank you, Erestor," said Elrond quietly, glad that his sons had just returned from border patrols and were exhausted enough to be sleeping until sunrise, or else he would be jumping at every shadow. Secret meetings in the dead of night drew Elladan and Elrohir like hobbits to a banquet, and where the twins were, Estel was usually only a step behind them. It had actually become quite entertaining the past year, since Estel had learned to follow the twins without them knowing.
His chief advisor bowed and walked off, no doubt to seek his bed. Elrond frowned at the elf for a moment; Erestor's unsteady walk indicated how fatigued he was, and Elrond could still remember one occasion when Erestor had been so exhausted he had wandered into Elrond's room by mistake and had promptly fallen asleep. Unfortunately, Celebrian had been in there, and she had thought he was Elrond.
He couldn't help smiling. To the present day, Glorfindel still reminded Erestor of that occasion when the elf bothered him about the often worn condition of his travelling garments. It had always a secret function of the chief advisor to deliver messages that a ruler didn't want his other advisors to know about.
Suddenly remembering the folded letter in his hand, he returned to his study, where a cheery fire still burned in the fireplace. He deftly broke the seal with his thumb and opened the letter. An even bigger smile graced his ageless face as his eyes quickly read the letter through.
"Well?"
Elrond didn't need to turn to tell who it was; the Istar was one of the handful of people who could walk undetected by elven ears if he wanted to.
"He agreed," Elrond responded, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "He even went on to say that he thought it was a good idea." He made a point of ignoring Mithrandir's I told you so look. "But why, Mithrandir? I deem that there is another reason you wish to encourage this friendship. Will you tell me now?"
The old man looked thoughtfully out of the window. At Eärendil, Elrond noted. "It is something I feel must happen, though more for the other's sake than your son's."
The elf-lord sighed. Men often claimed that elves were cryptic beyond reason, but what of the Istari? He didn't press Mithrandir, though, knowing that to do so was futile. Elrond himself understood that sometimes counsel had to be taken without a complete explanation; he didn't always fully explain the advice he gave.
"Now that that is seen to, I must leave."
Elrond blinked. "Why?" He seemed to be saying that a lot tonight, "Has something happened?"
Mithrandir smiled. "No, calm down, my friend. But it is not yet time for me to meet young Aragorn, though I am keeping an eye on him."
"The day you explain yourself sufficiently will be the day I go over the Sea," Elrond muttered. The Wizard had been heading out the door, beyond the range of elven hearing, yet he turned around and said, "I didn't know you were seer, son of Eärendil."
With a small chuckle at the bewildered look on Elrond's face, he departed.
~*~*~