A Letter

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that is vaguely recognizable.

Author's note: A little bit odder than what I write, but I hope it is still pleasant. Enjoy!


Brandybuck Hall

Buckland

Shire

Date: 15th of Astron, Fourth Age 62


Dear Aragorn,

I hope this letter finds you in the best of health. You know, I wonder why, after all this time, I bother writing that to you. Perhaps, as Bilbo would say, it is to remain polite. After all, you are not that dark, broody ranger that we first met all those years ago, but instead a king of a great part of Middle Earth west of the Misty Mountains, and East of it too. But I believe that it is more because of the fact that I often find myself at the loss of words when writing letters.

Speaking of all those years ago... do you remember? The days when the Fellowship was not yet broken, not even formed? Back when Frodo and Sam had not yet sailed, and Boromir was not yet dead, and Legolas not yet singing sorrowfully of the West? I do, yet in my old age, the memories slowly slip by, even as Pippin and I meet to reminisce. But you do not have our curse, to die without any warning. You have a choice.

Sam is still fresh in my mind. The ever-loyal Samwise Gamgee, the only one to ever give up the Ring freely; the ever-brave, the only one of us who still followed his vow to stick to Frodo. And And then to believe that once I had thought less of his courage and steadfastness! But the past does not matter, yet it does, as the last of the Ringbearers has left for the Undying Lands. I wonder how much time it will take for those of the Fellowship that remain to depart beyond the Circles of the World too?

For even though you are of Westernesse, you are of men, and in the end, your choice does not matter. One day Pippin and I will die, and so will Gimli, and Legolas will take a grey boat West. And then, years and decades later, all those who remember the dark days of the War of the Ring shall leave the circles of the world. And then, what?

Have you ever wondered what happens to men when they die? I have wondered many times- both during the Quest, and after it. The last time I was in Gondor, in its libraries I found a stack of papers. In it was a particular essay, or record, you might say. I still remember the title, the curved font- 'Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth'. Then, I did not yet know of Finrod Felagund, or Andreth Saelind (of her I yet know little, for she is rarely mentioned). But I would not be as well-versed as I am in Elvish history if I did not know of Finrod Felagund.

In the debate between them, Andreth says that men were originally immortal, and that it was Morgoth who had given them mortality. I shall neither agree nor disagree with this notion, for it is not a tale of us hobbits- but instead of men. Yet, sometimes I wonder, will the 'gift' of men, and their final resting place, will extend to us too.

Once, in the early days of the journey, when we travelled first to Rivendell, you sang to us the song of Beren and Luthien. It was sweet, and lovely, yet now I know the full story- and I wonder, that when Luthien sang in front of Mandos, did she know of the tales that would be sung of her? When Andreth and Finrod debated, did they know that Finrod would learn to know death better, for it was the fate Aegnor would face, and Finrod himself? Did the candle pity the moth in the end- or was it heartbroken instead?

(In this letter, I seem to meander off the topic incredibly, don't I? But now that we have come to this point, it is perhaps better to finish this train of thought, first.)

If it is so, then maybe, just maybe, we shall reunite again, the nine of us, 'ere the ending of the world. But that is a long way away yet, and we wait, I suppose now.

But Aragorn, death is steadily approaching for me, and I know it is only a matter of years. My old wanderlust hits me again (must be the Tookish blood), and my feet itch to wander once more. Perhaps, I shall soon set out to wander- maybe in two years' time, after tying up all loose threads. Maybe, Pippin shall come too.

I laugh now, as I look at this letter. For years, I have not written to you, yet when I sit and write, it seems that all eloquence and diplomacy has abandoned me.

I have no more time to write, the messenger leaves in five minutes, but I shall send you another letter as soon as I am able.

Give my love to Elanor, Eldarion, Elmirë, Faelwen and Arwen. I shall try to come to Eldarion's begetting day next month, but if I am not able, I will indeed send a letter.

Yours

Merry


Probably not what I had planned for this day, but still. I hope you guys liked this.