Aragorn not only grew quickly, but he grew strong and was an apt learner amongst the elves. It came then, that he would grow into manhood at a young age. At the age of sixteen, he was not only a skilled swordsman, but becoming skilled as well with the bow and arrow.

The dusty gray of the evening sky drew but a small shadow over the radiant gardens that seemed to flow like water from the mountains and through the valley like a lake of lush greenery. In the shadows of a gentle birch stood a figure adorned in blue and gray. His deep brown hair flowed down only to his ears. The boy was not yet a man, but was almost to age. From underneath a few loose locks of hair, glacier blue eyes glistened like the stars in the heavens. His hand gripped the hilt of an elvin sword, it's blade inscribed with runes of that of the elves. Skillfully, he spun it, the polished steel glimmering in the dwindling daylight.

"Estel!" called a voice from behind him. At the top of a grand staircase, a figure stood, his brown hair waived gently in the breeze, then fell softly against his teal attire. His gentle complexion seemed to match that of his surroundings; fair, yet fading like the fading of autumn into winter. His ears came slightly to a point for he was an Elf. At the sound of the call, the boy looked up at him, smiling.

"Elladan!" he ran forward, greeting him as one would greet a brother. "Your father told me that you were searching for me?" When he finally reached his friend at the top of the stone staircase, he sheathed his sword, then looked long at his friend.

"That I was." The Elf's eyes studied the garden for a moment, then turned to the one he had called Estel. His face was warm and gentle in the same way that his father, Elrond, was; welcoming but always troubled.

Estel's joy seemed to fade slightly, though it seemed that he had been overcome by a great joy that day. "What was it that you wanted?" he prompted.

"Elrohir and I are leaving on a journey sometime in months ahead," he began. "My father thought it a good idea if you were to come with us." The news was indeed surprising. An even greater smile crossed his face.

"Journey?"

"Yes, we are to ride to Forodwaith late in Lothron." It was clear that Estel wished to go.

For a moment, Estel thought. Never has Lord Elrond willed for me to leave the valley of Imladris, and now he wishes for me to ride with Elladan and Elrohir north to Forodwaith. "Do you will it?" Though Elladan was ages older than Estel, they seemed almost akin; like brothers.

"Of course, Estel," he smiled warmly and placed his hand on Estel's shoulder. "With your sword, you will yet do great things."

And so in late Lothron, the sons of Elrond rode forth from Rivendell; Estel in their company. The three defeated many dangers and the first of the great deeds of Aragorn were amongst the brethren that his own father had fallen amongst. Months passed before he returned to Rivendell, but he would soon leave for yet more adventure. In this same fashion, four years passed.