Estel is in the stables when Glorfindel leads an unfamiliar horse in. He watches after feeding an apple to one of Elrond's mares. The stallion is a striking white color and wears no saddle or bridle. Glorfindel guides him with just a light hand to the head. The young human stands silently while Glorfindel leads him into an empty stall. The tall elf rubs the horse's neck and then backs out, shutting the bottom half of the door. Estel speaks before the elf can leave.

"Whose horse is that, Lord Glorfindel? I have not seen him before."

The blond elf turns back to the boy and smiles slightly. "He is my horse, Estel. His name is Asfaloth."

The boy is awed. He hasn't seen Asfaloth previously, nor heard of him, though he has been at Rivendell for just over four years. The horse is large, even for an elven horse, but he seems especially massive to six-year-old Estel. He comes closer to the great stallion but takes a step back when the great horse lowers his head within the boy's reach. Glorfindel smiles as Estel reaches forward and places a tentative hand on the muzzle. The boy, quickly at ease with the giant animal, turns from him and faces Glorfindel. "Where has he been? Have you been at Rivendell for years and not ridden?"

Glorfindel hesitates, watching Asfaloth and the boy interact. He finally looks down at Estel and speaks to him. "Asfaloth has been with Arwen Undómiel, daughter of Elrond, in the realm of Lothlórien."

Here, the boy interrupts him, clearly surprised. "Lord Elrond has a daughter? I had thought that his only children were Elladan and Elrohir!"

Glorfindel takes a deep breath and begins to explain to him the circumstances surrounding Arwen. "Nay, young Estel. Lady Arwen is the youngest child and only daughter of the Lord Elrond and the Lady Celebrían. After her mother's leaving, she left for her mother's kin in Lothlórien. She has dwelt there for years, but she isthe sole Lady of Rivendell and has made a few visits to Imladris. These visits are brief; soon she will return to Lórien with Asfaloth."

"Maybe she will stay this time, and you can ride Asfaloth for me," Estel says hopefully, wanting to see this horse run. He quickly quells the dream of riding him himself.

Glorfindel shakes his head, resigned that soon the she-elf will leave and take his horse with her. "Do you not need to be at your archery lesson with Lindir?" He asks Estel, knowing very well that he is supposed to be.

The young boy pauses a second and then says, "Oh, yes!" He takes off running, and calls over his shoulder to the elf, "Thank you, Lord Glorfindel!"

After Estel is gone, Glorfindel moves to Asfaloth. He touches the horse's face and is rewarded with the stallion playfully shoving at his hand. When he begins to speak, the horse quiets. "Perhaps she will stay this time. There is hope she will linger." Glorfindel stands there in the stable for some time with his hand resting on Asfaloth. When one of the mares nickers, he steps back from his horse. Asfaloth watches him as the elf turns and walks swiftly out of the stables with his cloak billowing behind him.

Arwen Undómiel sits in her father's office, filling him in on the happenings in Lothlórien and the East. It is late at night, though they can still hear elves laughing and singing in the distance. Every time she visits, albeit rather rare occasions, he puts on an impressive feast. Many elves are invited and most stay up late, happy to celebrate by drinking and dining and merrymaking. Both she and the elf-lord left early, a tradition so they can talk without being bothered.

Though Elrond is still, she can sense he is restless. His eyes don't focus on her when she speaks and he is rubbing at a scar on his wrist. She remembers this habit from her childhood, when he was anxious about her twin brothers. Once she asked why he didn't hide the scar and he told her that it was a reminder. Of what, he didn't say and she didn't ask. She asks him now, "What's wrong?"

His eyes flick up to her and away and back again. "This is the time I would ordinarily check on Estel." Before she can say something, he explains. "I assume you have heard of the young human I am fostering."

"Yes, Ada; word reached Lórien years ago." She spares her father a quick glance, but he is focused elsewhere. "He is said to be Isidur's Heir."

"Indeed," Elrond murmurs. "Estel doesn't have knowledge of his heritage or his destiny. I have concealed his ancestry and will keep it hidden until he comes of age. At the moment he is but a six year old that is untouched by expectation and responsibility." She can tell from the warmth in his voice that he is fond of the boy.

She stands. He rises as well when she requests to see Estel. He nods and leads the way out the door. She follows him, slowing somewhat as they walk down familiar halls. The sounds of the feast fade as they move farther from the dining hall.

Elrond sweeps around a corner, and Arwen is surprised to find herself looking around the passage where her family's bedrooms are. The elf-lord stops and gestures toward a doorway. Arwen peeks into the room, which is surprisingly bare. A single bed is tucked in the corner and Estel sleeps there, tangled in the sheets.

A dark head of hair is the most Arwen can see. She leans forward, then steps silently into the room. Estel is lean and small, about half her height. One hand is resting on his pillow. His hair is long, curling to past his ears. His face is relaxed and he sleeps soundly, the soft noise of his breathing stirring the air. Everything about him signals innocence and youth. Arwen feels a surge of affection for the boy she hasn't even spoken too. Strange, she thinks, that a boy can affect me so much and I have not even seen him awake.

She doesn't know how long she stands there staring at him when she feels a presence at her side. It is her father. He smiles down at Estel, then touches her shoulder. Arwen takes one last look then leaves with him.

Once they are out of the room, she heads down the hall to her old bedroom; it is still the room she stays in when she visits now. Elrond comes in behind. When she sits on her bed he wishes her a good night, and begins to leave when she calls him back.

He comes toward her and smiles when she asks, "Why Hope?"

After taking the time to lean down and take her hands, his response is short and soft. "I expect you will find out." He straightens and departs, leaving Arwen to her many thoughts.