It was in the garden pavilion, sheltered from the cold, that Elrond found his foster son one morning. Drawing up a chair he set a long wooden box at his feet and settled comfortably; waiting patiently, as elven kind are wont, for Estel to awaken. It was the sound of the noonday bell that finally woke the youth and he sat up in surprise when he discovered that he had company.

"I am sorry. I did not hear you arrive."

"Indeed. You were asleep, an occupation of which I approve in your current circumstances. That is why I did not awaken you. How do you fare today, Estel?"

"I do not have a headache, which is an improvement. But why am I so slow to heal? This enforced rest is driving me to distraction. I need to be doing things." Estel smacked his hand upon the couch in emphasis and Elrond smiled at the impatience of all youth.

"It will come, with time. You are already much improved and the signs are good that you will make a full recovery. You have youth and strength on your side and more than a little determination."

Estel sighed. "When I do get better I suspect my mother will keep me locked within the borders of Imladris for the rest of my life."

"Can you blame her? You have caused her much distress."

Estel looked appropriately contrite. "I know. I wanted to show everyone that I was a grown man, capable of making decisions and defending myself. And all I have done is show that, grown or not, I am only capable of making very poor decisions."

"It was but one decision. You have merely shown that you can make mistakes, just like the rest of us," Elrond replied as he laid a comforting hand upon his foster son's arm. "But mistakes are opportunities to learn. What have you learned from this experience?"

Estel snorted. "That my foster brothers can lead me into a lot of trouble?"

Elrond chuckled. "You learned that years ago, when they left you up a tree all morning. But what have you truly learned from this experience?"

Estel considered for a moment, watching a blackbird foraging for worms on the lawn. "To think for myself. Not to blindly follow others into danger."

"Very good. Thinking ahead and weighing the dangers are both qualities required in a leader."

"You think I could be a leader of others one day?" Estel asked with some surprise.

"You were born to it. You know that the name 'Estel' means Hope. Do you know why that name was chosen for you?"

"I have always assumed my father chose it, but what he hoped for I do not know since he did not live long enough to tell me."

"It was I who named you Hope. Your true name was hidden to protect you, for there are those who would do you harm if they knew your heritage."

"My heritage? My mother would not even tell me my father's name, only that he was dead. She grew distressed whenever I enquired about him so I stopped asking years ago. And why would anyone want to harm me?" Estel was fully awake now and trying to push to his feet to pace, as was his wont when agitated.

Elrond moved his stick out of reach and placed a restraining hand upon his arm once more. "Be still, child although perhaps I should call you child no longer. I believe you to be mature enough now know what you inherit. You are Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Chieftain of the Dunadain who was slain by orcs when you were still a babe." Having dropped his rather large stone Elrond sat back to watch the ripples. Despite his recent mishap he knew Estel to be intelligent. He had seen to the man's education personally and knew that he would put two and two together quickly. He smiled when he saw comprehension dawn.

"The Chieftains of the Dunadain are descendents of the House of Elros Tar Minyator, your search brother and first High King." Aragorn's eyes widened. "That would make me heir to the combined thrones of Gondor and Arnor! Surely you are mistaken?"

Elrond's brow rose as he reached into a pocket and drew out a ring. "Do you think that as Elros' search brother I would be mistaken in tracing his descendents? Here is a jewel that I have long held in safe keeping for you." He offered the ring in his palm. "This is the ring that Felegund gave to Barahir in token of their abiding friendship, wrought for Finrod before him." Elrond's eyes grew distant, his voice taking on a singsong tone:

"Proud are the words, and all there turned
to see the jewels green that burned
in Beren's ring. These Gnomes had set
as eyes of serpents twined that met
beneath a golden crown of flowers,
that one upholds and one devours:
the badge that Finrod made of yore
and Felagund his son now bore." (a)

And indeed the silver ring clearly showed the badge of Finarfin and his house. "As a descendent many generations removed this comes to you."

Aragorn hesitated then picked it up, turning it to the light so that the green gems flashed even in the weak winter sunlight. Still he hesitated to put it on and Elrond took it from him and slid it onto his foster son's finger for him. For a moment it felt too big and then it seemed to draw in to fit snugly.

Elrond lifted the box and laid it across his lap. "And I have other heirlooms of your house for you are also descended from Isildur." He lifted aside the cloth to reveal the shards of a mighty sword, the remnants of its blade blackened. "These are the shards of Narsil, Elendil's sword that cut the one ring from Sauron's hand."

In growing wonder Aragorn reached out to run his finger along one of the pieces, discovering that it still held an edge after all these generations. Elrond continued.

"Great deeds await you Aragorn. I cannot foresee the full tale of your life but I do know that it has the potential to be longer than other mortals, unless evil befalls you, as it did your father. I sense a coming together of many threads soon. A great nexus of events is ahead and you will be a part of it, but I cannot see any more than that. It may be that your house will finally come into its inheritance through you. If it does I have one other heirloom, the Sceptre of Annuminas. This I will present to you only when you wear the crown."

Aragorn shook his head. "I am not ready to be a king. The events of these past weeks have shown that at least."

"Indeed you are not," was his foster father dry assertion. "That is why you must go out into the world and learn. I have kept you safe and taught you all that I can. The rest you will glean only through experience."

Aragorn smiled at last. "To learn to fight you must fight."

Elrond rose, his smile echoing Aragorn's. "You will discover that thrones are won and held by much more than fighting."

The Lay of Leithian by JRR Tolkien – from The Lays of Beleriand