What has become of the Firstborn?
What has become of the King?
What has become of the seats of banquet?
Where are the joys of the hall?
O for the bright cup!
O for the white towers!
O for the glory of the Prince!
How that time has passed away
And grown dark under cover of night
As if it never had been…
The Lay of the Passing Ages
The first and second ages belonged to the Elves, and much of the Third Age as well. The Fourth Age began with the departing of Elrond for Valinor, and this age was the Age of Men. And also, in no small measure, the Age of Halflings, who had come into great regard and renown in the kingdoms of Men for the courage of Frodo Baggins, the Ring-bearer. The king was restored, and Elessar was his name, and under his rule Gondor flourished, and Rohan became its most powerful ally. And so the happy days passed, full of rebuilding and restoring and rejoicing. The world seemed created or washed anew.
And the glory of the Prince, and the beauty of the King, was the source of great joy among the people of Gondor. The kingdom was restored; the standard of sable with the silver tree and the seven stars flew again high atop the citadel. And for many lives of Men the world prospered.
Then came the famine. It came during the reign of Elnaurion, son of Eldarion. An evil wind rose from the East and blew much of the good soil on the shores of Rhun into the desert of Near Harad. The crops of the Pelennor began to fail. "It is a malice," said farmers and historians alike. "It is the spirit of Sauron, riding on the wind and making what little trouble he can though he has perished."
"My father's father did not labour for nothing," spoke Elnaurion. "I will not allow Sauron to tarnish what he cannot now destroy." And so saying he sent scouts to Mordor to watch for happenings, for evidences of life or Orcs gathering. They brought reports that nothing stirred in the Black Land.
Meanwhile, farmers of Gondor sought audiences with the king. They had fled their homes when their crops died, and begged Elnaurion to do something. All he could say in reply was, "Even a king of Gondor cannot control the soil of the earth." Men even within the walls of Minas Tirith began to give up food so that their wives and children could be fed. The people cried to the king, pleading for help, for men had begun dying of starvation already. Elnaurion knew from Harad's ambassador that the desert land had much grain stored away, and so he set out with a company of his most trusted men to barter food from the Haradrim.
When they reached the border between the countries, an emissary from Harad brought word that his king would like to treat with the King of Gondor. He could not, or would not, say any more. Elnaurion warily chose the most loyal men of his fellowship to accompany him into the desert.
But the emissary, though he served the good ruler of Harad, was evil in his own right. A force of renegade soldiers ambushed Elnaurion's party as they entered the desert. The king might have been able to defeat his attackers had he brought all his company with them, but the enemy's numbers were too great for the small band. Elnaurion's men valiantly defended him to the last, but they were all slain, save one, who hid himself under the body of one of his fellows and feigned death. The king had been killed viciously. The one soldier who remained brought the body of Elnaurion back to the city, weeping as he lay the man down inside the gates. The great king was placed in the Hallows next to Elessar his grandfather and amid the mourning of Minas Tirith. "The line has failed!" men cried. "It did not last even four generations. Now Gondor shall fall into its old decay, and we shall be a stewardship for ever."
But it soon became clear that the royal line was not doomed: the queen was found to be with child. The people were greatly relieved, and for nine months the city waited, tension gathering beneath the daily goings-on of life and the ever-tightening grip of the famine. One day the word spread quickly: the child is being born. Long into the night, men and women in every level of the city stayed awake, awaiting news of the child. Near the stroke of midnight, there were born two children to the queen: a boy and a girl. She instructed the herald to wait until dawn to announce the birth. A scribe sitting quietly near her recorded the names of the children: Elvedui and Pendem. When the slight warmth of dawn crept over the city, the herald blew a great trumpet from the citadel and proclaimed the names of the children to all who could hear him. Those who could not make out his words were given the tidings by those who lived on the upper levels. The people of the city marveled at the strange names the queen had chosen for her children. The meaning behind them seemed clear to those who knew some of the Elven tongue- Last Elf and Sad One – but they sounded strange for royalty. Still, the City rejoiced, for these children carriedf or them the hope that had made the kingdom of Gondor great under Elessar. Perhaps this same hope and strength of spirit would carry them through the famine, and whatever came after, until the ending of the age.
A/N: Thank you very very much for reading this... I'm not sure what to call it. Is is a one-shot? It could be. It seems like more of a prologue. In any case, thank you for reading it. I hope you enjoyed it. If you have anything to say about it, please, by all means, review. Constructive criticism is welcomed with open arms (especially on this one, because I'm trying very hard to write more Tolkien-ish-ly than I would normally).