Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original storylines or characters, only the animals in this story are mine!
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Enjoy!
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Fathers and Sons
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It took a lot of strength to open the heavy door, even though he had already done it a few times.
Eldarion frowned at the guard who was about to help him, and silently shook his head no, then he set his stuffed animal on the floor and stood on the tip of his toes to reach the handle. He pulled it down and slumped forward, not letting go until the door moved a bit.
The little boy giggled, quickly covering his mouth with his hand.
He paused to pick up his toy and tuck it under his arm, then used both hands to give the dark wood a push, careful not to make a noise. When the crack was finally wide enough for him, Eldarion slipped through it.
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The study was quiet, thus he had to be careful not to be heard. He found it hard not to giggle again; tiptoeing towards the large desk, he pressed both his hands on his mouth once more.
He could see that his father was writing something, and hesitated. He was going to surprise Ada, but what if he was so startled that he spilled some ink? Eldarion knew from experience that Ada would get angry with him, and he did not want to risk that. Slowly, the little boy moved sideways to get a better look; he would wait until Ada laid the quill aside.
His father still had not noticed him, since he was deeply immersed in thought. He looked serious, Eldarion thought, and a little sad. The prince remained where he was, cradling his stuffed animal close while watching his father.
Aragorn paused when he registered something, a second presence in the room. He listened intently, his eyes still on the paper in front of him; a few moments later, he relaxed imperceptibly, and pretended to resume his writing.
From the corner of his eyes he could see a small form inch closer, and laid down the quill.
Shortly thereafter, he heard footsteps, then a lithe body slammed against his as Eldarion threw himself upon him: "Surprise, Ada!"
The king caught his squirming little son and pulled him up onto his lap, feigning surprise indeed: "And such a nice one! Did you come here all by yourself?"
Eldarion nodded proudly: "Nanny has fallen asleep in her chair," he announced.
Aragorn did his best to keep a straight face; Eldarion´s nanny was with child and therefore often plagued with fatigue these days. They would have to find a replacement for her soon, since they could not allow Eldarion to wander about on his own, but Aragorn was not too concerned about it, since the prince was safe in the royal residence.
"And I opened the door all by myself," the little boy added. Aragorn fondly stroked his son´s hair: "You are such a strong boy," he smiled.
Eldarion nodded once more, holding up his stuffed animal: "Brown said so, too!" "Did he, now? Well, if Brown said so, it must be right. He is a very old horse and very wise."
Aragorn looked at the stuffed horse; it had been his when he had been little, and it was severely loved off already.
Elladan had brought it to him after the coronation, as if providing a piece of his old home in Rivendell to help him accustom to this new and very different dwelling in Minas Tirith.
Surprised, Aragorn had taken Brown from his brother and had held him close, just like he had used to do a lifetime ago. He had felt the soft material and had taken in its familiar scent, and for a moment he had closed his eyes and allowed himself to be Estel once more, crown- and burdenless.
During that precious moment, white stone had been replaced by green trees and the feeling of utter safety once more.
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Eldarion now twisted to see what was on the desk: "What are you doing, Ada?"
Aragorn helped him turn around so he could have a proper look: "I am writing a letter, squirrel."
"For whom?" "It is a letter to your grandfather." "Naneth´s ada?" Eldarion asked, then frowned: "But how are you going to send it to him? Naneth said we cannot write to him because he is too far away."
Aragorn sighed: "I know... I was not going to send it to him, squirrel." "But why do you write to him then?"
"I am writing to him because I am missing him," he said softly. "And I miss talking to him. As I cannot talk to him, I sometimes write to him and pretend he is going to read it, do you understand that?"
"Yes," Eldarion turned around to look at him, his small face being utterly solemn: "I do. I sometimes talk to Fram."
Aragorn nodded, equally solemn: Fram had been a little sparrow they had found outside one day; it had broken its wing.
Eldarion had pleaded to be allowed to keep it and care for it, thus Aragorn, who had a soft spot for his child, had found himself trying to heal the small creature even though he would have preferred to end the animal´s suffering quickly.
Fram however had not survived, and the whole incident had made a lasting impression on the prince.
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Aragorn marvelled at the compassion the little boy was capable of: "That is very similar to writing to someone," he acknowledged. "And it sometimes helps to sort your thoughts."
Eldarion leaned back: "Can we go and visit Fram?" he asked, for of course the sparrow had received a proper funeral, and they had even planted a tree on his grave.
"You can tell grandpa about it in your letter. And maybe I could draw a picture of Fram for him?"
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Aragorn suddenly felt like weeping; he wrapped his arms around his son and held him close for moment, grateful for this precious being, before he answered: "Yes, squirrel, we shall do
that. I am sure he would appreciate it."
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The End
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