Prologue
"Elrond, you must help me," the woman pleaded with the elven lord.
"The boy is just a child. He cannot handle this now. You must take him. Keep him safe."
"Gilraen, so many things are expected from your son. No one planned for Arathorn to meet such an end. The line will be believed to have ended. This boy is the heir to the thrown of Gondor," Elrond tried to explain to the woman.
"Now you must understand. You must see why I'm trying to protect my son from that which you speak of. The Stewards would like nothing better than to see the end of the line of Anarion. Please, you must take Aragorn before they do something drastic. Protect him. Raise him as your own kin," Gilraen was nearly begging him now.
"I shall raise him if that is what you wish. He shall stay in Rivendell, but only until he is of age to prove himself in the world of men. Only until then is he welcome here. I shall call him Estel. He shall be safe with me," Elrond compromised.
The women looked down at the bundle she held in her arms. It was the last thing left in Middle Earth that reminded her of her spent husband. As hard as it was for her to part with the boy, she knew she was doing the right thing. She handed the bundle over to Lord Elrond before she had a chance of changing her mind.
"I must make haste," she called as she leapt onto her horse. "Take care of my baby," she called as she turned and galloped of into the horizon.
Elrond stood with the weight of the warm bundle in his hands as he watched her flowing brown hair sway in the wind as she grew further and further into the distance.
Elrond took the baby boy to Rivendell. He knew that he would be safe there. The child was easily accepted by the elves of Rivendell. As the boy by the name of Estel grew older he thought himself as one of the elves, he became very handy with a bow, and he never asked questions of Lord Elrond concerning his real parents.