Dear Strider

Newly-crowned King Eldarion comes upon a collection of letters amongst his father's possessions.

Author's Note/Foreword: I really have not spent as much time as I would like to writing Lord of the Rings stories (even though they are my favorite books), and part of my reason for abstaining is that there are so many amazing fanfics for that work on this site. I've been struggling for a long time to come up with something original. One of my favorite topics to explore is family relationships, which brings me to my main question: How completely do we know our parents? My own father was 28 years old when I was born, and there is so much you can do in 28 years. At 23, I am still learning a lot about my father's crazy adventures from before I was born (as he lived in a lot of places and knew a lot of people). Reflecting on this, my mind went to Eldarion, the son of Aragorn and Arwen. If there is any person in fiction who had a father who did a truly remarkable amount of living, it would be the son of Aragorn.

My story is set in the aftermath of Aragorn's death and Arwen's departure, in the early days of Eldarion's kingship over Gondor. I am hoping that those who read this story will enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Thank you.

MINAS TIRITH, YEAR 120 OF THE FOURTH AGE OF THE SUN

"I have asked the staff to wait to clear your father's chambers until you had a chance to go through and find what keepsakes you may," said the steward.

"Thank you, Beregond," Eldarion replied. "My father valued your service, and I hope you will continue in that good work." "

Beregond smiled. He was not an old man, but his hair was beginning to show flecks of silver. "It has been an honor for the men of my line to attend you, ever since your father spared my grandfather's life."

"If it had not been for your grandfather, Prince Faramir would have met with a terrible fate. All of Gondor will forever be in debt to him for his heroic actions."

Beregond bowed humbly and low before leaving the chamber. "I'll be outside if you need me, my king."

Eldarion looked around his father's office and chuckled. Elessar had once remarked at dinner that he could organize a kingdom or his chambers, but not both. Eldarion's sister, Gilriel, had remarked that the household staff could keep his office under control.

The household staff had certainly made an effort, but the king thwarted their efforts at every turn. Eldarion's mother said that it was impossible to break all of the king's ranger-like habits.

Eldarion sat down behind his father's polished desk. The desktop was a mess of royal documents, discarded quills, and crumbs of the Elvish waybread of which his father had been so fond.

Sitting at his father's desk made Elessar's death all the more real for Eldarion. His presence was everywhere in this room. He remembers the scolding voices of the royal advisors from the times that Elessar chose to play hide-and-seek and toy swords with his son rather than dealing with matters of state. He learned much later that his father would work late into the night to catch up on the reading and work that he put aside to spend time with his children.

Eldarion had absolutely idolized the man, and they had many moments together, but he still had so many questions about the man his father was before he was king. There was so much more that he had wished to ask him about himself. His father believed in living in the present, but he did allow for some stories.

He told the tale of his great love for Arwen Evenstar and how he finally won her hand.

He told tales of growing up with the elves in Rivendell under the watchful eye of Elrond, Eldarion's maternal grandfather.

He often spoke of the wisdom of Gandalf the wandering wizard.

And of course, Eldarion had heard of the adventures of the Fellowship of the Ring many times. How Aragorn son of Arathorn, Chieftain of the Dunedain had protected Frodo the hobbit and his friends on Amon Sul, how he, with Legolas and Gimli, had chased down the servants of Saruman for days in pursuit of Meriadoc and Peregrin, and how he led the Free Peoples to victory on Pelennor Fields.

But those deeds all seemed suited to King Elessar of the Reunited Kingdom.

Who was he before all of that?

Eldarion began opening desk drawers, and he found few remarkable items. There was a very weathered sketch that could only have been of his mother. The new king bowed his head in remembrance of his mother's departure three nights prior.

There was a curved hunting knife inscribed in elven-fashion. Eldarion did not often hunt, but such a thing was not to be discarded.

In the bottom drawer of the desk, there was a simple, wooden box. Eldarion lifted it onto the desktop and opened it. It contained a stack of folded papers that were quite different than those sprawled on the table. Gondorians, especially Gondorian nobility was fond of using crisp, white parchment and black ink for all writing. These pages were sheaves of brown parchment in green ink. It looked as though they belonged to an older world.

Eldarion took the first page from the top of the stack and began to read.

31 July, 1455

Bag End, Hobbiton

Dear Strider,

Pippin just dropped in to give Rosie and me the news of the birth of your son, Eldarion. My congratulations to you and Arwen! After having thirteen children of our own, we wondered when you would start trying to catch up with us.

It seems like just yesterday that Rosie, Elanor, and I were staying with you in Minas Tirith. I can hardly believe we haven't seen each other in TWELVE YEARS! I can imagine you are very busy running your Reunited Kingdom, so it probably seems like twelve days for you. Time flies when you're busy.

I can only imagine what old Mr. Gandalf would say if he could see all of us now: you, me, Pippin, and Merry all family men, Gimli a great lord, and Legolas doing… whatever it is that Legolas does. I'm sure that he and Mr. Frodo would both be overjoyed at your happy news.

I had a letter from Bob recently saying that old Mr. Butterbur passed away. I wasn't sure if you had heard. After all, The Prancing Pony was the place where we met, and I know it holds great significance for us all. It makes me laugh to think of how suspicious I was of that weather-beaten stranger smoking his pipe in the corner of the inn. Imagine if you had been a king when I said all of those silly things to you back then! I can only imagine what my Gaffer would have thought, rest his soul.

If you are ever staying in Annuminas, we would love to have you stop at Bag End. It isn't too far out of your way, and it would do my heart happy to see you filled with the joy of being a father. As I am writing this, Rosie said that you would probably prefer not to have dinner in a room where your head was constantly hitting the ceiling, so I'll amend my offer to a nice picnic on the front lawn. Mr. Bilbo was fond of those in his younger days.

Write me back if you get the chance. The older I get, the more I feel like reminiscing with my old friends. My children are tired of hearing my old stories, so maybe I can brighten them up with some of your perspective.

Your old friend,

Sam

There was no question in Eldarion's mind that "Sam" was Samwise Gamgee, Frodo's faithful companion on his quest to destroy the One Ring. He recognized some of the names and places in Sam's letter, but some were a mystery.

Butterbur?

The Prancing Pony?

It was amusing to think of King Elessar smoking in the corner of a pub.

And Strider… Eldarion remembered Merry and Pippin called his father by that name when they came to stay in Minas Tirith some years ago. Possibly a nickname from his days as a ranger in the wild?

Eldarion placed the drawing of Arwen and the hunting knife in the wooden box and left the king's chambers, signaling to Beregond that he was finished with his task.

He clutched the box to his chest. He had a lot of reading to do.

Author's Note: I have plans to continue this story, so if you enjoyed what you read, please follow, favorite and review! Thank you for reading!