[Earendil Halfelven]

Aravir's ears picked up the sound of cheering and mugs clanking as he drew nearer. He lead his horse through the forest while the sun descended into the horizon. He figured that he probably would need his horse, so he stopped at Thranduil's place and picked up his steed. He didn't want to take it into the northlands but his plans changed.

Firelight from the camps shone brightly. Aravir entered the clearing to see many of his kin having a good time as they "prepared" to answer Aragorn's call. He tied his mount to a tree near the other horses, and headed over to find the leader of this band. He saw many of his friends were already here.

"Ahhh, Hervevion! Greetings friend. Glad to see you're part of this motly crew," he said.

Hervevion looked over and nodded. Ha, good ol' Hervevion. He never was one for talking, Aravir thought. He laughed out loud as he headed off, leaving the young Hervevion to packing his horse.

"Aravir, I didn't know you were here," said a voice from behind. He turned and saw that it was another one of his kin, Elleraden.

"Hail, Elleraden. Glad to see you," Aravir said as they clasped hands.

"I thought you were heading up north," Elleraden said.

"I was in sight of the Ered Mithrin, but I was found by an Elven messanger from Elrond. And...here I am," Aravir replied. "I'll just have to put my journey on hold. The Heir of Isildur calls."

"I'm sorry to stop you from looking for your father. I know you were looking forward to that journey," Elleraden said.

"No matter. It'll just wait," Aravir said with a smile. "Oh, who's the leader of this company?"

"Islist," Elleraden replied. He turned and pointed. "He's off in that direction. It would probably be good to report to him."

"You read my mind, friend. After that, you know where to find me...by the malt beer, dwarf malt beer if my nose serves me rightly."

"Ha, you were always one to follow your nose, Aravir," laughed Elleraden. The two headed off as Aravir went to find Islist.

On the way, he saw more of his comrades of old: Dûrvagor, Bramen, Tarannon, Rinoas, and many others.

After he reported to Islist, he headed on over to the malt beer. He needed to make up for lost times. Then he saw another familiar face.

"Sorlas? Is that you?" he said.

The man turned. His face lit up with recognition. "Aravir, old friend! I was kind of hoping you'd show up." The two greeted eachother with clasp hands and a hug.

"I'm glad to see again, Sorlas. Did you find what you were looking for when we went to Fornost?" Aravir asked.

"Unfortunately, no. Maybe another journey somewhere in the future will have different results," Sorlas replied.

"Well, old friend, why don't we make up for lost time around a nice mug of malt beer," Aravir suggested with a wink.

Sorlas laughed as they headed on over to make merry with the rest. Aravir knew, that with many of his friends and kin in the group, the journey to Gondor was going to be a delightful one.