I watch the little boy playing in my garden and I must make a decision.

The one that means Imladris is his home I made long ago and I will not rescind it. This distant nephew of mine needs help, support, and a father. Should that father be me?

In two hundred years he will be merely a memory, another name in history. I am not sure I want to watch this boy die as his fathers did. Yet when I look at Aragorn I know I cannot refuse him.

There is no decision, my mind is already made up.