A/N I know that this is completely AU but this has been something in the making for quite some time now. I would like to thank Raider-K for taking the time to help me plan this and for coming up with the title.

Dear Estel,

I haven't even met you yet, or kissed you, or even held you, but I want you to know how much I love you already. A while back I decided to write you a few letters, a reminder of something you could keep and hold onto, to know how much you are loved. You are very dear to us, but you are also dear for another very important reason. You come from the line of Kings of Gondor. Your family legacy traces back to the high kings of Gondor, and for that reason, your life will come with challenges most people would never understand. The enemy would see our line ended forever; they fear what you could become. For that reason, your kin and family have always been hunted…

2933 of the Third Age

Arathorn, Elladan, Elrohir and a small group of Rangers were walking back to the tiny village of Taurdal. They had been out nearly all day tracking a group of orcs which were rumored to be coming too close to their village. Arathorn knew the enemy was searching for him and as a result, his people were being slaughtered. "I am not sure how much more we can fight off these constant attacks Halbaron. Every day, more of our people are killed on my account," Arathorn said softly avoiding eye contact with his trusted friend.

Halbaron glanced at Arathorn. He felt for his lord and stopped to look at him. "Arathorn, we will continue to fight by your side till either you die or we all die. Do not lose hope, for a day will come when we will not need to hide who we are, and we can walk freely in peace."

Arathorn smiled softly at his friend. "I do not know what I would do without you, my friend. I am lucky…" Arathorn was suddenly cut off when he heard one of his Ranger's shout.

"We are under attack! Arm yourselves!"

Without a word, Arathorn drew his sword and began to run head first into the battle where the rest of his people – including the twin sons of Elrond – were already fighting. They were sorely outnumbered. Gilraen had wanted him to bring at least twenty men with him, but he had insisted most of the Rangers stay behind in case they were attacked. Now, he was beginning to wish he had listened to her. Already, three of his men were struck down and if things did not change in their favor soon, they would all be killed.

"Quick, form a circle, it is our only chance!" Arathorn shouted as he struck down another orc.

No sooner had Arathorn given the order then the remaining Dúnedain and the twins formed a tight circle. In perfect harmony, they were shooting the orcs down one by one. Soon, the numbers were becoming more even, and the Rangers were finding themselves on the winning side of the battle. Eventually, however, they found themselves once more fighting sword to sword.

As the battle raged on, Arathorn found himself separated from the others as he fought with the leader of the orcs. Arathorn thanked the Valar for his finesse as the leader was an unusually large brute who would not go down. In the end, however, Arathorn managed to catch the orc off guard and ran his sword through his chest. As the orc lay drowning in his blood Arathorn heard Elrohir shout out a warning to him. "Arathorn, behind you!"

Arathorn turned to face his new opponent only to see an arrow flying straight at his head. Before he could maneuver to the side, the arrow hit the young Chieftain in his eye. Arathorn felt a searing pain rip through his head as the arrow found its mark causing him to fall to the ground motionless. In an instant, the rest of the Rangers and the twins leaped to their leader's aid, and in no time, the rest of the orcs were dead or fleeing into the woods.

When they were sure the threat had passed, Elladan, Elrohir, and Halbaron were already by Arathorn's side. Elrohir knelt down and turned Arathorn to his side and cringed at the sight. He knew from the sight Arathorn would not survive this injury. "He is quickly dying. We must bring him back to the village so the Lady Gilraen can see him one last time."

Gilraen was pacing back and forth. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she had a horrible feeling something was not right. Her mother had tried to get her daughter to sit as she reassured her all was well, but she would not listen. Minutes later Gilraen heard several villagers call out. "They have returned!"

Sighing in relief, Gilraen rushed out to meet her husband, but soon her relief was replaced by horror as she saw her husband on a gurney. "Arathorn!" she screamed as she ran to his side crying.

Elladan and Elrohir quickly lowered the front of the gurney and Gilraen fell to her knees sobbing uncontrollably. "No, please, you can't die. You must live!"

Arathorn opened his eyes and smiled weakly. "I am sorry, my love, but I am afraid the Line of Kings has ended. Our people will fall, and the darkness will win."

"No, it has not ended, it will continue," Gilraen said as she placed his hand on her belly.