Disclaimers: I do not own Lord of the Rings or anyone in it. You should all know whom it really belongs to. (Even if I'm not completely sure.)
Note: For those of you who maybe haven't read the books, Estel is Aragorn/Strider's Elven name and the name does not belong to a fan character. I admit that I haven't read all of the books, but I'm going to do this with my usual obsessive fervor. If I am wrong about something, please correct me, but also show me where the correct information is. Enough blabbing. On with the story. By the way, I might actually put a plot in here somewhere.
Estel's Childhood
Gilraen looked down at her arms, panting. Her brow was covered in sweat and her entire body ached, but she felt immense joy. In her arms was a small bundle of blankets. Through them, she could just see the face of her son, Aragorn.
The midwife bustled around her, making sure she was all right. Finally, when the time was deemed proper, the door was opened and Gilraen's husband walked in. He went to stand next to her, looking down into the face of his child.
'What is his name?' Arathorn finally asked.
'Aragorn,' she told him.
'Tis a good name,' he replied, still looking at his newborn son
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Gilraen sat in her chair, watching Aragorn play on the floor. Arathorn walked in, a grave expression on his face. 'What is it, my love?" she asked him.
'I have received news from the north,' he told her. 'The Orcs are attacking. I am going to fight them with the sons of Elrond.'
'Very well,' she sighed. 'I shall be waiting here for your return.'
Arathorn bent down and kissed her gently on the cheek before leaving to prepare.
Many long days Gilraen waited for her husband to come back. Often, Aragorn would ask where his father was and she would tell her son that his father would be coming back. She feared the worst and her fears were soon proved true.
One day, she heard a knock at her chamber door and got up to open it. An Elven messenger stood outside, a serious look on his fair face. She could tell from his clothing that he came all the way from Rivendell, where Lord Elrond ruled.
'What news, good Elf?' she asked him.
'Bad news, my lady,' he told her. 'Arathorn, your husband, has been killed.'
She gasped, though she had been half-expecting it. His father had been against him marrying because it had been foreseen that he would die young. For that same reason his mother had wanted them to wed all the faster, saying that perhaps there would be hope if they got married sooner. 'How did it happen?' she asked after taking a moment to regain her composure.
The Elf stood there as if nothing had happened. 'He was shot through the eye with an Orc-arrow,' he responded.
Her resolve broke and she sobbed openly. She moved closer to the Elf and started sobbing into his chest. He looked down at her and raised his hand to pat her awkwardly, for an Elf that is, on the shoulder.
She finally stopped and pulled away from him. His clothes were stained with tears but he paid them no notice. 'The Lord Elrond invites you to come to Imladris, my lady,' he said to her.
'But how then shall I bring Aragorn?' she asked. 'He is still young, though he be the heir of Isildur.'
'Lord Elrond knew this,' the Elf replied bowing his head. 'I have a carriage for you and your son to ride in.'
'Very well. I accept Lord Elrond's invitation. Please stay with me while I prepare.'
'Thank you, my lady,' the Elf said as he walked into her chambers.
Gilraen was ready to leave the next day. Aragorn was in the main room playing
amongst their bags. She went to the room that Ceroán was staying in.
He was lying on the bed, fully dressed, with his thin hands resting gently on
his breast. His eyes were open and he seemed to be staring at the ceiling. She
walked up to him quietly. She would never get used to the fact that Elves slept
with their eyes open.
She was about to wake him when he blinked and turned his head to look at her.
'Are you ready to go, my lady?' he asked.
'Yes,' she replied, walking out of the room. Ceroán soon followed her. He had bound his hair into a braid at the back of his head and still wore the clothes he had arrived in. He helped her carry the bags to the carriage and hooked the white horses to it before helping her and her son in.
They spent many weeks on the road, making their way to Imladris, or Rivendell in the Westron tongue. They traveled up the great Anduin River, past the Mirkwood forest, and over the Misty Mountains, finally coming to the great valley where Imladris was nestled. The Bruinen rushed beneath it as they approached. They crossed the bridge and came to the House of Elrond.
Many people walked in the halls of the great house as Ceroán led her to a room. Most of the people were Elves, but there were some other races there seeking Lord Elrond's counsel, for he was very wise.
Gilraen heard beautiful music in an equally beautiful language as she passed the great hall, smelled wonderful things as she passed the kitchens. The sun was starting to sink behind the western edge of the vale, casting a rich golden light over everything.
The room she was shown to was spacious enough for her with a second room off it for Aragorn. She put the toddler into his bed before laying down in her own and falling into a deep sleep.
She was awakened the next morning by the sunlight streaming in the large windows. She heard Aragorn making contented noises from where he lay. She found a tray of food sitting on a small table. It had a goblet of wine, some pieces of fruit, and a couple of lembas.
It was mid-morning before someone came to fetch her, an Elven maiden this time. She was told that Lord Elrond requested her presence. The Elf waited by the door while Gilraen went to fetch Aragorn. The three of them walked to the Elven-king's office.
It was white, as were most of the other rooms. A large desk stood at the far end of the room in front of the hazy curtains that half-hid the balcony beyond. The person sitting behind the desk, though, was more magnificent than anything she had seen of Imladris. He had the fair skin, lithe build, and delicate ears of the other Fair Folk but the dark hair of Men.
Even if she hadn't already known who he was, she would probably have guessed that he was Lord Elrond, Half-Elven. She approached his chair meekly, with Aragorn perched on her hip. He bowed his head to her in greeting, his robes rustling as he did so.
'How are you today, fair lady?' he asked.
'I am well, your Excellency,' she answered, bowing as low as she could without dropping her child.
His warm chuckle filled the room. "Elrond, please,' he told her. His gaze turned to the bright eyed toddler she held. "And this must be Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir of Isildur.'
'Yes, your-Elrond,' she said, interrupting herself. She saw another small smile grace his lips.
'I have been watching you people for a long time, since the end of the Second Age, and I shall continue to watch for a while to come. I have seen what fate has in store for your son and I wish for you to both remain here, safe from anyone who might want to hurt you.'
'What of our people, sir?'
'I think it would be safer for you to remain here, in Imladris. Then the boy
may grow to maturity without being in danger of his life.'
'I thank you for your generosity, but I must consider this offer.'
'Then I leave you to consider, Lady. You only need to tell my servant when you wish to talk to me.' Elrond waved one of his thin, bejewelled hands and Gilraen took that as her signal to leave.
She was led back to her chambers by the same Elf-maid.
She spent many a day considering Lord Elrond's offer and turning it over in her mind. If she went back to the north, Aragorn might be recognized for what he was, heir to the Throne of Isildur. But that held risks, because there were surely some who would not want the Heir of Isildur alive. She finally made her decision and called Galánda, the servant Lord Elrond had appointed to wait on her.
Galánda went away for a few minutes, to see if Lord Elrond was currently occupied. She came back a few moments later and motioned for Gilraen to follow her.
Once again, Gilraen found herself standing in Lord Elrond's office, facing the Elven-king. Both he and the room were every bit as majestic as before, if not more so. He stared at her with his intent, dark eyes. She felt a little uncomfortable.
'I take it you have reached a decision, Lady?' he asked her.
'Yes, Lord,' she replied. 'I have thought long and hard about this and I have decided to accept your offer.'
'Good. I shall arrange for long-term accommodations for you and the boy. Farewell for now, Lady.'
Gilraen again took her leave of the Master of Imladris.
They met again over the next few days to work out the details of this arrangement, It was during these talks that they came to the agreement that Aragorn should be known as Estel, which means "hope" in Elvish. Also, Elrond's sons, Elladan and Elrohir would train him in the arts of fighting, hunting, and tracking.
So it was that Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Heir of Isildur, came to live in Imladris and received the name Estel.
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I hope you like this; I tried to keep as close to the books as possible, at least what I've read of them.
Also, later in this story, I will be trying to use Elvish, but I haven't found
an Elvish dictionary fully based on Tolkien's works yet. If anyone knows where
to find one, I would appreciate it. Otherwise, I will be using the Dictionary
and Phrase Book from the Grey Company website. I think it's at www.grey-company.org,
but I'm not sure.