“You came at just the right time, my friend.”

In Rivendell, upon hearing of Garrett’s arrival, Elrond personally came out to greet him.

“Just the right time? How so?”

Garrett handed his horse over to the stablehand, reminding him once again to simply leave the horse in the stall without worrying about it too much, before joining Elrond for a walk.

Elrond said slowly, “Estel has already come of age. He is about to set out into the world for his true trials.”

“Before that, I intend to tell him his true name, his lineage, and everything about his heritage.”

Yes, at this time, Aragorn did not even know his real name. Everyone he had contact with called him only by the alias Estel, meaning “Hope.”

It was a form of protection.

But now that he had grown to manhood, that protection was ready to fall away.

“It’s about time,” Garrett agreed. “There are some things he must face on his own.”

“Indeed.”

The two of them spoke words few others could understand, like riddles.

“Where is he now?”

“Likely in the garden. I’ll take you to see him.”

Garrett nodded.

“The last time I met him was more than ten years ago. Let’s see how much the boy has grown, whether he’s become stronger.”

“He’s grown more than just taller…” Elrond murmured with a sigh.

“Oh?”

—

In the garden, the young future chieftain of the Dúnedain walked slowly, his eyes shifting as if searching for something.

“Estel…”

Suddenly, a clear voice called to him from behind.

An elven maiden appeared silently at his back.

Aragorn turned, and his eyes lit up.

There stood a noble maiden, beautiful and radiant, like Eärendil’s star shining forth at twilight.

“Arwen.”

Aragorn quickly stepped forward and took her hand.

Arwen smiled gently. The two of them, keeping just the proper distance, sat together on the bench beside the fountain, savoring the moment of peace.

“That boy really has grown up,” Garrett muttered from a high terrace in the distance, watching the scene between Man and Elf. Elrond, beside him, pressed his fingers to his temple.

“This is what I meant.”

The father sighed again, weariness in his voice.

“The love between Elves and Men can end only in endless sorrow.”

As a father, Elrond clearly did not wish to see his daughter fall into such a fate.

“Moments of happiness are always fleeting. And in the long ages that follow, what could possibly fill the emptiness in her heart?”

For Elves, overwhelming grief could mean death.

And Arwen, so beautiful that even Elves compared her to Lúthien herself, her fate would indeed be to let grief consume her, to give up her immortality willingly, dying as mortals do.

“Not necessarily. Life always has meaning. If all one has is a long life but nothing truly worth cherishing in it, then is that long life meaningful at all?”

“She still has her family, me, and her two brothers.”

“But now she has met someone she cares for even more, hasn’t she?”

“How can you say that? Nothing is settled yet. We’ve lived together for thousands of years, and the two of them have only known each other for a single year.”

Elrond shook his head.

“Perhaps it’s only a passing fancy,” he tried to reassure himself, though he did not much believe the words himself.

The two continued murmuring on the high terrace, observing and commenting on the scene below.

But Aragorn and Arwen noticed nothing.

After a while, the pair on the terrace felt their own behavior wasn’t quite appropriate.

Better to leave the young ones a bit of privacy.

So, only Aragorn and Arwen remained by the fountain.

Moments later, the two said their farewells.

A brief meeting thus ended. They had done nothing more than sit together on a bench, looking at the scenery. Few words were exchanged, and the most intimate gesture between them was simply holding hands.

Awkward and innocent.

“Tomorrow then. Tomorrow Aragorn shall learn his true identity,” Elrond decided elsewhere.

It was hard to say whether he was somewhat motivated to hasten Aragorn’s departure for training in the outside world.

Garrett, standing nearby, said, “I have something to give him. Remember to call me when the time comes.”

“Of course. I was just about to invite you to witness it together. Not only I, but Estel will be glad as well. But I’m curious, what is it you plan to give him?”

“You’ll find out tomorrow.”

With that, Garrett took his leave.

Elrond stood where he was, pondering for a moment, then shook his head and abandoned the attempt to guess Garrett’s intentions.

As for Garrett, he went straight to Erestor’s household, joined them for a light meal, cooked a little himself, and enjoyed a small gathering.

In Rivendell, time always seemed to pass quickly, as if hastened.

Whether living or not, things here showed no change even over hundreds or thousands of years. Staying here, unless one deliberately kept count, it was hard to judge how much time had actually gone by.

In the blink of an eye, the next day arrived.

That day, Garrett walked side by side with Elrond into a great hall.

Someone was already waiting inside.

“Garrett!”

At the sight of him, Aragorn immediately called out and came over in greeting.

“It’s been a long time, Ar… Estel.”

Elrond, who had been smiling, suddenly turned his head and gave Garrett a questioning look.

Hadn’t they avoided saying Estel’s true name yesterday?

Just now… was that a slip of the tongue?

Not noticing Elrond’s reaction, Garrett patted Aragorn on the shoulder, unable to help sighing. “It feels like only yesterday, and yet you’ve already grown taller than me.”

The young man was at least six and a half feet by now.

“In my heart, you’ll always be the one I look up to,” Aragorn replied humbly.

“No one can say what the future holds. After all, your journey has only just begun.”

“Yes, I am ready,” Aragorn nodded.

At this point, he only knew that he was about to set out for a long period of training in the wider world. As for other matters, he knew little.

“I didn’t expect you to come in person. I feel truly honored,” he went on, still speaking to Garrett.

“Garrett said he has something to give you,” Elrond interjected, drawing Aragorn’s attention to himself. But at the mention, Aragorn turned his head back toward Garrett.

“But that will be after this matter,” Elrond added, pulling Aragorn’s gaze back again.

“This matter?”

“Yes.”

“Estel, are you ready to learn everything about yourself?”

Aragorn’s expression grew serious.

“Everything about me?”

At that moment, Aragorn’s mother entered the hall as well, standing quietly not far behind him.

Elrond spoke, “Your true name is Aragorn. Your father was Arathorn, the fifteenth chieftain of the Dúnedain. And you are the sixteenth, the current chieftain of the Dúnedain.”

“Moreover, the blood of kings runs in your veins, of both Arnor and Gondor.”

—

—

Completed at Chapter 405!

Visit my profile page for more information.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep