Disclaimers: None of the characters are mine, and I make no money from this. All of the characters and the world of Middle earth belong to Tolkien.

2006 MEFA nominee, Second place in the Best Young-Drama category in the Mellon Chronicle Awards.

' thoughts '
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Chapter One

"Why not?"

Elrond looked at his youngest son and only with the greatest effort did he hold back a long-suffering sigh. "Because I said so."

"That is not a reason, Ada," Estel said.

This time, Elrond didn't manage to hold back the sigh. "I have given you many reasons, Estel. You simply will not hear them." This particular conversation had gone on for nearly an hour, and Lord Elrond was nearing his wit's end. "You will not change my mind by wearing me down, Estel. You are not going on patrol with your brothers today. You are not yet ready."

"But I am ready, Ada. I have been on many hunts with my brothers." He looked over to Elladan and Elrohir, who were each perusing a book in an effort to keep from being drawn into the argument. " 'Dan, 'Ro, tell him. I'm nearly as good with a bow as you, and I have been doing very well in my swordfighting lessons. You told me that not two days ago."

Elladan closed his eyes, then opened them and turned to face his human brother. "Yes, I did say that. And it was true. You are doing very well at learning to fight. But you are still learning, Estel. You need more training before you put yourself in a position where you may have to fight for your life."

Estel glared at him with a betrayed look in his eyes. "On the last hunt, I was the first to shoot a stag. I am well trained in the techniques of battle."

Elrond spoke to focus Estel's attention on him. "All of the hunts that you have been on have been well within the protected boundaries of Imladris. It is too dangerous for you to venture further. You will be a great warrior one day, Estel. I simply want to keep you alive long enough to grow into the man you will become."

"I am not a child, Ada," Estel protested.

Elrond looked at his sixteen year old son and just barely managed to hide his amusement. "To one who has seen three ages of Middle-earth, you are still a child, Estel."

"Ai, Elbereth, Ada!"

"Estel, " Elrond said warningly.

"Sorry, Ada," Estel responded quickly. "But if you use that to judge my age, I will never be old enough to leave Imladris. I am a human, Ada. I do not age as elves do. While I may seem a child to you, in the world of men, I am full grown."

At Elrond's raised eyebrow and knowing gaze, Estel amended his statement. "Well, I am nearly an adult."

"Then, as an adult, you will accept that I am only doing what is best for you, Estel. When you are older and more experienced, you can go on patrol."

"How am I to gain experience if I cannot leave the safe borders of Imladris?" Estel was getting rather frustrated at his father's continuing refusal to allow him to go on patrol.

Elrond decided a slight change in topic was needed. "Have your brothers ever told you the tale of their first patrol?"

At Elrond's words, two identical faces turned toward Elrond in horror.

"No, Ada!"

"You wouldn't!"

Estel looked quizzically at the twins, then back at his father. "They told me that they encountered a band of orcs, fought them off, and returned home with only minor injuries." He glanced back at his brothers, who were looking at their father with pleading eyes. "But was that not the truth?"

"Only partly," Elrond answered. "For their first patrol, I had them ride with Glorfindel's patrol. He was one of the few I trusted to keep them under control."

"Ada!" two voices protested in unison.

Elrond ignored them. "Glorfindel had enough experience with them to be wary, but he agreed to allow them to join his patrol. And, you were correct, Estel. They did run into a band of orcs. There was a fierce battle, during which Elladan received an arrow through his leg. Glorfindel removed the arrow and bandaged his leg before they returned home."

Estel was confused. "That is much the same story I was told, Ada." He glanced over at the twins, who were beginning to turn an interesting shade of red. "What is wrong?"

A small smile touched Elrond's lips. "I believe your brothers left out one small detail. It was not an orc arrow that Glorfindel pulled from Elladan's leg."

"Then who shot the arrow?" Estel was confused once more.

"The arrow bore Elrohir's markings," Elrond said.

Estel spun to face Elrohir, his mouth falling open in surprise. "You shot Elladan?"

Elrohir shrugged self-consciously. "I had never been in a real battle before. Things were…confused. Elladan moved in front of the orc I was aiming at, but I had already released the arrow."

"Your memory grows dim with the passing years, brother. I did not move in front of your arrow. You simply missed your target."

"I did not miss, Elladan. You…"

"Enough," Elrond said firmly, interrupting the argument. "Have you not tired of this argument after more than two thousand years?"

"You brought it up, Ada," Elladan pointed out.

"And I regret it," Elrond replied. He turned back to Estel. "Your brothers had had many more years of training than you, and they still ended up injuring each other. It was many more years before they were allowed to re-join any of the patrols. I only want you to have more training before you go out. You can go when you are older."

"How much older, Ada? Seventeen? Twenty, thirty, fifty? How old must I be before I am an adult in your eyes?" He was frustrated with Elrond's persistent refusal.

"Older than you are now," Elrond responded firmly. "You are not going today, Estel. Now stop arguing and let your brothers go on their way."

Estel narrowed his eyes, but reluctantly gave in. When his father had that tone of voice, there really was no changing his mind. "Very well, Ada, you know best." His tone was grudging.

Now that the argument was over, the twins approached their little brother.

"Your time will come, Estel," Elrohir said.

"And we will continue your training as soon as we get back" Elladan offered.

Estel just nodded glumly. The twins looked at each other, then at their father.

He nodded to them, indicating that they should go. "Be careful, my sons. Stay alert."

"As always, Ada," Elladan said. They returned their father's nod, then turned and left the room.

Estel wandered out to the nearest balcony to watch as his brothers double-checked their travel packs, mounted their horses, and rode out of Imladris with the other three elves in their patrol.

Elrond watched Estel on the balcony. He knew Estel would have given anything to be able to ride out with his brothers. 'Why do the young ones always want to grow up so quickly?' He turned away and closed his eyes. Aragorn, son of Arathorn, was destined to have a difficult life full of hardship. Elrond knew that one day, he would have to tell him the full truth and set him on his path. That time had not yet come. Estel was still innocent and unknowing of the perils that lay before him. Elrond wanted to keep him that way as long as possible. For now, Estel was simply his son, not heir to the throne of Gondor and Arnor. And it may have been selfish, but he was not yet ready to share his son with all of Middle-Earth. Estel would grow up quickly enough. For now, Elrond would keep him here, where it was safe. He would allow Estel to enjoy those years of his childhood that yet remained, whether Estel appreciated it or not.

Elrond approached his son. "Estel?"

Estel turned to face him. "May I be excused, Ada?"

Elrond nodded. "Of course." He sighed as he watched Estel walk toward his room. 'Estel is angry with me now', Elrond mused. 'But at least he is safe.'

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Estel stomped into his room and threw himself onto his bed. He lay on his back and brought his arms back to rest underneath his head. "Ada doesn't understand," he muttered. "He does not know what it is to be the only human in a house of elves. I am nothing more than a child to all of them. Compared to them, I will never be anything else. On my deathbed, they would still not consider me an adult. Ada will never let me leave Imladris."

Estel lay on his back and pondered his options. 'I have to prove to him that I am not a child. That will not happen here. I can follow the patrol and reveal myself when they are too far from home to send me back. Ada will not be happy, though. He will be sure to assign me kitchen duty, or make me clean the stables for the next few weeks. If I can prove my point, though, the punishment will be well worth it.' The longer he thought about it, the better the idea seemed. He began making his plans. Leaving now would not be a good idea, for his absence would be noticed too quickly. Besides, he needed time to prepare.

From the hunts he had participated in, he knew he would need to pack food, healing herbs, and warm clothing to fight off the evening chill. Some of that could be packed now, but Elrond would ask questions if he started gathering medicines and herbs from his father's rooms. He would wait until the others went to sleep tonight. Then he would gather the supplies and weapons he would need. If he left a couple of hours before dawn, he would have a good amount of time before he was missed. The idea of traveling in the dark worried him, but this way, he would still be in familiar territory while it was dark. He wasn't worried about trailing the patrol. Out of all his lessons, he was best at tracking. His brothers had not been able to throw him off their trail for nearly a year. He had learned to read every mark upon the ground as easily as one would read a book. In fact, tracking was easier than trying to read many of the books in his father's library.

He got up and started packing his bag, then hid it under the bed. He joined his father for the evening meal and acted like the argument earlier in the day had never happened. Guilt struck him when Elrond seemed relieved that the argument was seemingly forgotten. However, he had made up his mind, and he couldn't let a little guilt stop him.

He went to bed at his normal time and waited. Once the house grew still, he quietly crept around, gathering herbs, food and weapons. Going back to his room, he packed it all up, and stored it safely under his bed. Satisfied, he lay down to rest for a couple of hours. His excitement and nervousness did not allow him to sleep long, and he easily woke up hours before the rest of the household. After dressing warmly, he grabbed his supplies and crept out of the house to the stables. He saddled his horse and quickly left the protected valley, following the same path his brothers had taken earlier. Knowing where they planned to go, he did not have to worry about tracking them in the dark.

The further from Imladris he got, the more relaxed he became. He wasn't often able to get out on his own; oh, he had free reign to wander Imladris as he liked, and he often took solitary walks. There was just something different about truly being out on his own, though. Now, he was the only one responsible for himself. Here, there was no one looking out for him, trying to protect him from harm. He felt…free. He looked up through the branches of the trees to the sky above. It was a cloudless night, and the moon was nearly full, casting a warm glow over the world below. Estel didn't have the sharper vision of the elves, but there was enough light that he had no trouble seeing the path in front of him.

Peeking down through the tops of the trees was Valacirca, the Sickle of the Valar. Menelmacar and Elenhu were his favorite constellations, but they only showed themselves in the winter, and it was still early fall. He loved gazing at the stars. Growing up among the elves, he had acquired a great reverence for the stars. He could still remember the first time his father took him up on the roof and told him about the celestial hunt involving the Swordsman of the sky and his canine companion. The guilt brought about by the memory was quickly pushed aside.

As he rode on, he enjoyed the silence and the beauty of the forest. The world around him brightened as the sun rose slowly over the horizon. As the sun lit the forest, he could clearly see the tracks of the patrol he was following. They had half a day's lead on him, so he knew that he could not waste time if he wished to catch up to them. He traveled quickly throughout the day, following his brother's tracks, only stopping when necessary to give his horse a chance to rest. When night fell, he allowed himself to stop and make camp for the night. He knew he was making good time and should catch up with them in the morning.