There was an edge of excitement in the elven haven of Rivendell that mid-summer's morning. Young Estel could feel the abnormal anxiety in the air. His beautiful city was usually so peaceful and lazy, so calm and routine, and even the slightest indication of a special event was easily discovered with his keen senses.

Elrond had informed him the previous evening that he was expecting visitors that morning. His distant kin from the Woodland Realm past the Misty Mountains. Elrond's twin boys, Elladan and Elrohir seemed eager to reunite with these people, Estel himself had not yet met the infamous Legolas and his sister, Eirawyn Ithildin. But from what he had gathered from his friends and neighbours, they were regarded as a little strange, but every bit as lovely as their kindred.

In contained excitement, Estel had been wandering the city since his morning meal, wondering and imagining the sort of elves they would be.

"My son, why are you so restless this beautiful morning?"

Estel turned from his place looking over the balcony. His lovely mother, Gilraen the Fair had come up behind him. He was so lost in his thoughts her presence had not even triggered the usual caution that arose in his mind when he felt eyes on him. This hereditary instinct was not so keen as it usually was this day, his emotion and mentalities were too fixed on the visitors set to arrive within the hour. He smiled, his mother was masterful in the art of softness of step and breath, she had probably found her son easy to startle.

"These suspicious visitors have excited me somewhat mother," he answered with a sigh "Lord Elrond has said so little of them or the culture they hail from. I do not doubt that they are friends and allies on our part, but I would be put more at ease if I knew who I would be meeting this morning."

The older woman smiled softly. She was entering her forty-seventh year but still time had left her virtually untouched. She was still the fair woman his father had fallen in love with so many years before. She was dear to him and he to her.

"Be then at ease, my boy." she told him, her gentle voice immediately reassuring "These elves are in the blossoming era of their youth. And the elves of Mirkwood are not as otherwordly as the elves you dwell with here. They are sharper and nearer to the mortal heart, marvellous and yet not strange. I have met the prince Legolas and the lady Eirawyn, you will surely come to befriend them. I garuntee it."

Estel grinned, his mother was a perceptive woman and an excellent judge of character.

"I do not doubt you mother, yet I wish this meeting over and done with."

Gilraen strode over to her son and took his wiry frame in her own protective arms. He returned her embrace, feeling ridiculously childish, but immensely peaceful. At these times, he cared not if the entire city could see him there in his mother's arms, it was enough to know that she stood with him.

Below their balcony, a clatter of horses' hooves echoed in the courtyard. A company of about seven elves had ridden in, mounted on fine steeds and richly dressed. Estel pulled from his mother's grasp to study the new arrivals.

"Is that them, mother?" he asked, the excitement in his voice hardly restrainable.

"It is." she answered with a warm smile.

The first two riders were both more finely adorned than the others. Though it was plain to see they had chosen more comfortable garments for their journey, they still looked magnificent, as elves usually did. All but one was male, and her beauty was unlike any that the young man had before seen. Her graceful long white hair was braided and piled neatly on her shapely head. It seemed to him that the shimmering locks had trapped the light of the stars and moon and were holding it now, shining for all to see. She was pale, almost white even, but the whiteness was more like the radiance of a heavenly star. She was cloaked in pale blue and rode a bay stallion. But her eyes was what caused Estel to stare far longer than he would have normally dared. They were blue, but not merely blue, a shade unlike anything that he'd ever seen in his life. They burned ever brighter beneath her star-crested brow and held a level of fierceness and loveliness and made him imagine himself gazing up into the night sky and observing the bright little stars. He found himself almost unable to cast his eyes away.

"We must hurry to meet them now." his mother told him, interrupting his fantasies "Come, you are a sight!"

Then she took him by the hand and led him away done the corridors.

His mother was correct of course, he had spent to much of the morning in the stables and by the river bed. And his clothes were older, ruffled and muddied. It wouldn't do to be introduced in his play things. Gilraen instead washed his dirty face, combed his tangled black hair, and dressed him in blue and black. One of Elrond's advisors, Erestor, a stern older elf-man with quick eyes and a sharp mind, came to collect him.

"Don't worry, my son." Gilraen assured him, planting a kiss on his forehead "You will like them. I know."

He nodded in reply and followed Erestor down the halls, the open air halls that exhibited the beautiful Rivendell view for all walking along to see. Even for the long-legged, young man, it was difficult to keep up with Erestor's extended strides. Estel was almost running after him.

"Erestor," Estel began "Why has the Lord Elrond invited these guest on this occasion?"

"Their mother, the lady Beinedhiel, elvenqueen of Mirkwood, has went over the Sea. The elvenking Thranduil greives for her, and his...umm...slightly difficult children are too much for him to manage."

Estel thought about this, surprised. Why would the elvenqueen just leave her husband and children? As he wondered more about it, he realized that many of the elves had been passing over the Sea of late, and with every parting, Elrond grew more worried. Estel recalled the Lady Celebrian, he had never met her himself, but Erestor and his mother had told him about the Lothlorien princess who was attacked and poisoned by an army of goblins. Her sons had rescued her, and Elrond healed her wound as best he could, but she did not fully recover and went over the Sea in a few years. Perhaps Elrond had agreed to harbor the royal elven children out of pity, knowing what it was like to have his own beloved wife taken away from him.

They were drawing closer to the great dining hall, when Elrond's twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir strolled over to them. Both were far older than Estel, but they were all close and on good terms. They acted like brothers to the young boy and he looked up to, and admired them.

"Suilaid, Estel." the greeted in unison. The boy smiled.

"Mae govennen." he answered, the elvish words spilling over his tongue with ease. The older ones smiled.

"You're elvish is improving Estel," Elladan commented "Soon you will be able to understand everything we say about you in secret."

Estel raised his eyebrows and gave them a long, cool stare. They laughed, and Elrohir came forward to playfully punch his shoulder. Erestor coughed to hurry them along.

"Tolo hi!" Erestor commanded, waving them on down the halls.

Entering the great banqueting room, the group of four stopped and waited to be invited in. Elladan and Elrohir took their places to the left of their father, beside the elf Glorfindel, another advisor. Erestor pointed out a seat for Estel before sliding down on Elrond's right.

Quickly, so as not to draw attention to himself, Estel plopped down on the cushioned chairs and waited to begin the meal. He stole a glance upwards, and found himself gazing into the startlingly blue eyes of Eirawyn Ithildin. She gave him a smile that smote his heart.

"Welcome, my sons." Elrond smiled warmly. He turned back to his guests.

"You will remember my children, Elladan and Elrohir." he said, gesturing to the twins. Legolas and Eirawyn nodded in acknowledgment. From this closer distance, Estel could see that Eirawyn was indeed one of the most beautiful ladies he'd ever seen. And her brother was very handsome, they were both lovely elves and they gazed at him with the fondness of a parent.

"And this is young, Estel." Elrond said, introducing the boy "He and his mother are harboring in our safe halls for a time."

"He is child of Men," Legolas commented, studying the boy intently "A descendant of the Numenoreans."

Elrond nodded, but Estel hardly heard him, he was too busy studying these foreign elf-kin. The lord, with his sleek, blonde locks and fresh, sky-blue frock, embroidered in the usual elven-style. And the lady with her burning eyes, shimmery white hair and spotless, white dress. They too, were studying him. Their wise, friendly eyes looking at him so deeply, in such an understanding way, that he wanted to shrink away from their powerful gazes. He attempted a small smile, with downcast eyes. Eirawyn laughed. A gay, free, enchanting sort of laugh, that stirred your heart and altered your definition of joy.

"He is a wise child, I see it in his eyes. A beautiful child as well." she commented. Estel blushed deeply, hoping his strangly, long locks of midnight-black hair were sufficiently covering his cheeks.

"Yes, he is a wise boy." Elrond agreed "And for that, I am grateful."

At this, the elf-lord spread his arms, causing his sleeves to sweep outwards and serve to make him look even more regal.

"Eat, please." he encouraged. Eagerly, Estel attacked his meal, he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast that morning. Purposefully, he worked away at his food, making sure he sat properly, chewed carefully and kept his elbows from the table. Elrond smiled approvingly.

Eirawyn picked lightly at the food, her gaze was consistently on his thin frame. He wondered what she possibly thought of him, but was preoccupied with his meal. Her eyes trailed over his every move, he felt rather uncomfortable at her undivided attentions, but oddly pleased. Once in awhile, he stole a glance into her own pale face and was surprised to see nothing but love and joy in her eyes. Her beauty was so far beyond the understanding of his mortality, her wisdom outside of his own limited knowledge. Looking into her starry, blue eyes he found himself drowning in a sea of joy, peace and love. And he liked it very much.

He scraped the last bit of his meal from his plate and looked over to Elrond.

"You are dismissed, son." the elf-lord said "I have business with our friends to take care of."

Slowly, hesitantly, Estel rose from his seat and left the room. Stealing a final glance behind him, and finding Eirawyn's lovely smile returning his own.

The twilight still lingered as Estel wandered through the shadowy gardens. He always enjoyed his lonely, evening walk and today was no different. The peaceful evening went on before him, the hills climbing into the sky, were shrouded in a thin, wispy mist. The city was pale in the half-light, and the stars glittered brightly above him, shimmering jewels littered across the dark sea of the heavens.

"This is a beautiful city."

He jumped, the words had been soft and kind, but they cut through the stillness with the sharpness of a sword. The elf maiden, Eirawyn, stood behind him, and he found himself unable to reply to her greeting. The sight of her now, seemingly kindled with starry fire, an unexplainable radiance that seemed to come from within her very being, had almost stopped his heart. He continued to stare, and she continued to smile, the corners of her pale lips barely crinkling her flawless white skin.

"And it is a beautiful night, do you not agree?" she asked, moving towards him. He swallowed the lump that rose in his throat and nodded.

"It is, worthy of your lovely presence, milady." he choked out, surprised how suddenly his tongue had become so eloquent.

She laughed. And the silvery leaves on the trees stirred without a breeze.

"Why thank you, little prince." she smiled warmly "I had no idea that the children of this land were so sweet-tongued."

Sweet-tongued? He was sweet-tongued? The warmth in his toes slowly crawled up to his cheeks, he could feel the color burning them. Embarrassed, he dropped his gaze from the pureness of her white raiment. Struggling for words he could not provide.

"Do you always walk in the gardens, dear Estel?" she asked, the sweet tenderness of her tone brought him to his senses, in a way, she spoke like his mother.

"Yes. Usually at least, it brings peace of mind when I walk in the twilight." he twirled the string on his tunic.

"I agree. I enjoy being out of doors, in the open where I can see the stars and moon. In Mirkwood, the trees usually hide the night-sky from me, I do adore visting places like your Rivendell, where I can feel the sun and the wind. I envy you."

She was jealous of him?

"But your land is full of adventure and mystery! Tales of dark forces overcome by your people are told in Elrond's halls. But nothing ever changes in Imladris, every day is the same as the last. To the point where time means nothing anymore."

She laughed, and it pierced him like a dagger blade, striking the deepest recesses of his heart.

"I too, am keen for adventure, young Estel. It awakens in me, something wild and undescribable, something that drives me past fear, to do the task at hand and to accomplish the will of Iluvatar. I love the excitement of my homeland, but the beauty of Imladris has no equal, it is the fairest of lands. At least of lands I have trod."

"I wish I could go on adventures," Estel sighed, his smile fading slightly as he turned to look out at the walls of the valley "But I fear I shall always be stuck here, clinging to my mother's skirts."

Eirawyn's smiled vanished, replaced with a cold, sorrowful look, her grief was poignant, making his heart ache with hers.

"Nay, little one," she answered, her voice sounding darker "I fear that is not your fate. You will be a great man, as great as the kings of old Numenor, you will abandon your elven haven and walk a life of solitude, protecting the North as you were always meant. And someday, your doom will fall, and fall hard."

She paused, seeing the confusion and horror in the boy's bright eyes.

"Oh, do not let your heart be troubled, Estel." she told him, voice tainted with laughter "You can not earn greatness without suffering. And great you shall be, greater than those before you."

Eirawyn knelt down, resting her long, white fingers on his shoulders.

"Our hope rests in the hands of you, Aragorn. You shall not fail us."

Startled, he looked her in the eyes, the lovely star-kindled eyes of fire that stared at him, unblinking.

"Aragorn?" he asked, finding that the name pleased him and awoke in his heart great passion and desire to ride, to run, to fight. She reached her left arm around his neck and gently pushed his forehead down into hers, so that they rested against each other. He found himself lost in fantasies of war and glory and feasts and dancing and laughter. She whispered quickly in the elven tongue, her soft, sweet voice making his skin tingle.

"May goodness and mercy follow you all the days of your life." she ended, drawing away from him and opening her bright eyes. Estel longed for her to stay with him, to stay in her lovely embrace, but she rose gracefully to her feet and started to leave, her pure, white gown floating over the grass.

"Eirawyn!" he called after her, taking a few timid steps in her direction. She stopped and turned to face him.

"Yes?"

"Will I see you again?"

She smiled tenderly, melting his young heart.

"I dearly hope so, Estel." she answered, eyes shimmering with unshed tears "You've made me feel warmer than I've felt in a hundred years."

He grinned, pleased to have had any sort of effect of this ethereal princess.

"Namarie." she said, waving quickly before vanishing into the growing shadows.