A/N: As my first story appears on the horizon of the fanfiction world, I review my story and contemplate: "How will this story be received?" The only way that my question shall be answered is by the reviews of others. Therefore, I humbly request that this story is reviewed by the greatest of fanfiction authors, including yourself. A warning to those interested only in the Lord of the Rings characters and not the story itself, this story takes place after the Battle for Middle-Earth. That means no Aragorn, Frodo, Gimli, Sam, or even our hero Legolas. Sorry, but it was a necessary thing.

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters in this chapter. I do not wish nor ever will wish to be paid for these stories. All hail J. R. R. Tolkien!

-----

The maid held up the child to the Elven Queen. "It is a boy," she said.

Queen Arwen smiled at her child. "He shall be called Eldarion, for he shall open new worlds to Gondor like his forefathers."

A page ran off to spread the good news around the kingdom. "The child is a boy! The heir to the throne has come!"

-----

"Mother, what is wrong?" The child asked with more than just his voice.

The once fair elven face had turned gray as stone. Never before had she felt such grief. She knew now how her people could die of such a pain.

"You are old enough, my son. Old enough to rule this kingdom."

"What do you mean, Mother?"

"Tar-Elessar has passed. Now begins the rule of his son, Tar-Eldarion. May your rule be long and prosperous."

-----

The new king walked the hallways of the Citadel, filled with grief. His father was gone; his elvish mother disappeared as well. He was left alone. He remembered the stories he was told, how his father was the last of the Numenorean line, why the Shire was now protected from unlicenced travelers, how Men were returning to power.

"Eldarion."

The king turned to see who addressed him without his title. "What do you want?" he he saw who it was he was addressing. It was one he deemed an elven king with great knowledge. "I reserve a week for mourning. No king can deny me that," exclaimed Eldarion apologetically.

"I am no king of the Eldar," said the vision. "I am Manwe, messenger of Eru. I have come to give you a proposition."

"What kind of 'proposition'?"

"One that will better your pitiful race," Manwe thundered the words with disgust. He obviously agreed little with the proposition of Eru.

"Forgive me, milord! I have had a horrible week, with my mother leaving and Southrons invading and–"

"Silence, Eldarion, Son of Elessar! Your father was the last of the Numenoreans, the final Dunedain. Eru feels need to grant him his one request. Yes, Son of Elessar, he came to the halls of Manwe like Eärendil before him. He is the second of your race to do so. It is a blessing given only by Eru."

"What was my father's request?" the king asked timidly.

"He requested that his heirs be bestowed with like splendor as his forefathers: another race of Numenoreans. Your father's true name was Estel, Hope. We name you the Estelli, the Hopeful People. Forthree thousand years, your people will have longer life, greater strength, greater wisdom, honour, and courage than any of the rest of your pitiful tribe! We onlybestow upon you the same condition of your forefathers. Do not sail beyond sight of Middle-Earth!"

"Milord!" the king whispered. "We shall not fail you with this honor!"

"Remember that your forefathers made this same promise! When they failed, the sinking of Numenor flooded part of Middle-Earth! Go now, and restore your land! Wash away the filth of Sauron and become the greatest nation of this Middle-Earth! Peace I leave with you, and may you distribute it fairly."

-----

A/N: Please review! This being my first fan-fiction, I expect and welcome criticism. Just try to keep it helpful. Also, thanks to Dalamar Nightson for beta-ing this, my first project. Don't worry, it gets much better... Much thanks! –Valgoruth