Gwaihir folded his enormous wings, settled upon the rock, and carefully studied the person before him.

The Great Eagles were messengers of the Valar, serving under Manwë, the chief among the Valar.

Manwë, the Lord of Air and Wind, and the appointed steward of Arda under Ilúvatar, the One, maintained the harmony of the world, using his power to correct all that fell into discord.

As messengers of the King of Arda, the Great Eagles possessed extremely long lifespans; many were no younger than the Eldar themselves. They had already witnessed countless ages of history.

“I hope my construction work hasn’t disturbed your lives.”

From the very first moment, Garrett didn’t bother with pleasantries, he went straight to the heart of the matter.

“None can truly disturb our lives. You worry too much, Garrett the Renowned,” Gwaihir replied, his tone remarkably gentle.

The man before him was far too extraordinary, to have forged so many legends in such a brief span was a rarity even across all the ages.

And “legend” was only part of it; in truth, to Gwaihir and the Great Eagles, that aspect didn’t even carry the most significance.

It was mainly that his manner of dealing with the world felt strangely familiar. If anything, it reminded him somewhat of Gandalf standing nearby.

Before coming to Middle-earth, Gandalf, or rather, Olórin, had most loved to wander in grey robes, witnessing all kind of events and learning the wisdom they contained. At times, he would even take the form of an Elf, offering guidance to the Firstborn and helping them flourish.

Many moments of inspiration in elven minds were in fact because of him, though they never knew it. For the one who offered the hint would always vanish without trace immediately afterward.

Olórin never sought reward for this; to him, all such returns were meaningless. His attitude was as if a Vala were walking among the Children of Ilúvatar.

No, it should be said he truly was a Maia dwelling among mortals.

Still, though there was a similarity in temperament, it was far from certain.

After all, this lord had appeared for only a very short time, merely a few years. That was far too little to see anything clearly.

Given another century… even a millennium, some truths might finally emerge.

“That’s good, then,” Garrett nodded.

After a pause, he continued, “In fact, I’ve already noticed that many enemies have ill intent toward this road, including the spiders and orcs concealed within Mirkwood, as well as other foes still roaming the wild lands…”

Some spiders had attempted to climb the decorative support pillars, but because the columns were far too tall and smooth, they failed.

Even if a few reached the treetops, the blazing sunlight would drive them back; at most, they could only move about beneath the canopy.

The spiders were not much to fear. More troublesome were the orcs and various beasts still lurking in the Mountains of Mirkwood, remnants that had escaped from Dol Guldur.

Besides Dol Guldur, there was also Mount Gundabad. The Battle of Five Armies had sharply reduced Gundabad’s orc numbers, but it remained one of their major strongholds, connected with many evil creatures in the North. Even if Garrett personally swept through it repeatedly, he could not completely eliminate them.

Some level of vigilance remained necessary.

“I know there is no creature in this world whose eyesight can compare to that of the Great Eagles,” Garrett said, revealing his purpose.

“If you notice any unusual movements, I hope you can inform us.”

The aerie lay atop a peak on the eastern side of the Misty Mountains. From there, one could see the entire forest, the river valley, and even Erebor itself.

As long as it lay within sight, nothing could escape the eyes of the Great Eagles.

If he could gain their cooperation, then everything occurring across this vast region would be as clear as crystal.

“That is no burdensome matter,” Gwaihir said proudly, lifting his head.

“We have always shared tidings with our friends nearby.”

At this, Gandalf stepped forward to explain, “The Great Eagles often assist the Elves of Rivendell and Radagast in gathering information. Sometimes I myself request their aid, and they have never refused.”

“But the Men of Rhovanion…”

He slowly shook his head and gently reminded Garrett, “They are not particularly friendly toward the eagles. There were some ignorant folk who, fearing that the eagles might carry off their sheep, once raised their longbows against them. Since then, the eagles have had no dealings with the Men of this region.”

Garrett’s mouth twitched slightly.

The Men of Rhovanion… they might as well have simply named Dale and Lake-town outright.

In truth, they could hardly be blamed.

After all, Men did not live as long as Elves or Istari. Their ancestors might have known what the Great Eagles were, but after a few generations, that knowledge would not necessarily endure.

“I apologize for the recklessness of those people.”

“It matters not,” Gwaihir replied. “We shall continue to watch over this region. If anything noteworthy occurs, you will not be left uninformed.”

And as for the price of sharing such intelligence…

“Simply have your people put away their bows,” he said, a statement that came as quite a surprise.

A man’s name casts a shadow, just as a tree does.

The widely spread tales had long proven that the Vales were no longer what they once were.

“I believe that under your leadership, the Men of the Vales will no longer commit such foolish acts.”

“I’m glad that the unpleasantness of the past hasn’t affected our meeting today,” Garrett said. “I hope we can always live in harmony.”

With Gandalf as witness, Garrett and Gwaihir reached an agreement. The rift between the Great Eagles and the Men of the North was mended, and friendship was restored.

In addition, as a gesture of reciprocity and recompense, the Great Eagles would no longer need to exhaust themselves daily searching the wilds for prey and food. Just as it had been in ages past, they would once more have a provider.

Meat and provisions of all kinds were never in short supply within Garrett’s domain, sharing a portion was enough to feed the entire eagle clan.

For so small a cost, the Great Eagles would aid in gathering intelligence, and could also serve as vigilant sentries in the skies, keeping watch even over things like bat swarms. It was quite a bargain.

Still, beyond food as payment…

Garrett glanced around, shaking his head thoughtfully. He felt the aerie was rather austere and perhaps could benefit from some renovation when time permitted. Surely there was an architectural style they would appreciate.

Reviewing the many building designs in his mind, his hands nearly itched to begin construction.

Atop the aerie, having settled the initial terms of cooperation, the two men and the great eagle were discussing the future development of the region and various minor matters, when suddenly Gwaihir lifted his head and gazed northward.

He stood there, staring into the distance, motionless for quite some time.

“What is it?” Gandalf finally inquired.

“From the direction of Mount Gundabad,” Gwaihir warned. “Some beasts and orcs have set forth, quite a number, at least a thousand. They’re descending the mountainside at speed.”

“Will they attack Dale or Lake-town?” Gandalf turned to Garrett.

“Hmm?”

An enemy delivered straight to his doorstep?

Rubbing his hands together, Garrett felt a surge of anticipation.

Could it be that without proper leadership, these orcs had finally gone completely mad?

But thinking it over, it didn’t quite make sense.

The chances of the orcs attacking those two settlements wasn’t particularly high.

Even if, for argument’s sake, they did plan to assault Lake-town or Dale, this wasn’t the route they would take. From their direction, were they planning to pass through Mirkwood?

If so, they wouldn’t even need Dale’s army to deal with them, the moment they set foot in Mirkwood, the Woodland Elves would likely annihilate them entirely.

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