Even after Gandalf talked himself hoarse, appealing to both reason and emotion, he failed to change Allen's mind about using the Rings of Power.
Still, Allen used the opportunity to keep his silver-haired, gray-robed old friend in Fisslet. The Wizard intended to check on his young friend from time to time, lest the darkness Allen used corrupt him into something neither living nor dead.
After all, ordinary humans had very little resistance to darkness.
Of course, Allen made a concession as well. He simply could not win against Gandalf's persistence, and promised that if the ring proved no help to his upcoming plans, he would let the Wizard take it away without asking where it would end up.
Allen knew, however, that there were at most two places it could go. One was Rivendell, where Gandalf could ask Elrond how to destroy it. The other was Lothlórien, where he could seek Lady Galadriel's advice.
If there was a third option, it would most likely be to throw it into Belegaer, letting the turbulent sea thwart any attempt by the enemy to recover the ring.
Neither Morgoth nor Sauron had ever conquered the sea, and Ulmo, who ruled its waters, would not stand idly by while Morgoth's power ran rampant upon it.
Yet the old man in gray remained as mysterious as ever, never staying in the city for long. Someone might have seen him drinking in a tavern one day, only for him to vanish to who knew where the next.
One improvement over before was that people now caught sight of Gandalf somewhere in Rhovanion every so often and received his help. Perhaps it was a piece of advice, or perhaps a delightful little trick that brightened their entire day.
Before long, the city, which had grown somewhat unsettled