Post by Admin on Jan 10, 2021 1:12:08 GMT
Author: Darkover
Ranking: 2nd place
Summary: Being the son of a legendary man can be difficult.
Rating: K+, for mention of canonical character death.
Disclaimer: The characters of “The Lord of the Rings” were created by J.R.R. Tolkien, not by me. No copyright violation is intended. I believe the good professor would understand that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, and would not want anyone to sue me.
Characters: Aragorn, Eldarion, Arwen
How does one follow a legend? That was Eldarion’s thought, as he gazed down at the King, who had lain himself down on the bier prepared for him in Rath Dinen.
King Elessar. My father.
Behind him, his sisters were weeping, many of the others present as well, but Eldarion dared not. For I shall be King when my father departs, and a king must not be seen to weep.
But did he really believe that? As his father said his goodbyes to everyone—the servants, his sisters, their husbands, Steward Elboron—a part of Eldarion thought it unnatural that he did not weep. Certainly he wanted to. In the back of his mind a part of him was crying; “Ada! Ada, don’t go!” over and over again. Judging by the sorrowful countenance of his mother, she also felt that the King was leaving too soon.
The King. Always, that has been synonymous with my father. But once he accepts the Gift of the One, when the Men of Gondor and Arnor speak of the King, they shall refer to me. Long have I known that this responsibility would be mine, and I accept it. But how can I ever be the man my father is? There is no greater Man in all of Arda!
His sisters, one by one, drew near to the bier to say goodbye. His father clasped each daughter’s hand and spoke last words just for her. At the end, each of King Elessar’s three daughters kissed their father’s brow, and then stood back, weeping softly.
King Elessar looked at them all. “Leave us,” he said. “I would speak with my son alone.”
Eldarion was surprised, but his mother clearly was not. “We shall return when you have finished speaking to him,” Queen Arwen said quietly. She bent over, kissed her husband, and shepherded the others out the door. Father and son were left alone together. Their gazes met. Fighting back tears, Eldarion took his father’s hand.
“You are a man full grown, and ripe for the kingship,” Elessar said. “I am proud of you, my son. It is a comfort to me, to know that our people shall be left in capable hands.”
“Those hands have always been yours,” Eldarion answered. “Many of your subjects have known no ruler other than Elessar the Great. How can I follow a legend?” He flushed, embarrassed at letting those words past his lips, ashamed that he could think of himself at a time such as this. My father is dying, and I am concerned about how it will affect me?
His father only smiled. “A legend? I am but a man, my son.”
“You have always been known as ‘the hardiest of living Men,’ and justly so,” his heir insisted. “You are Aragorn Elessar, ruler of the reunited Kingdom, Healer and Redeemer. You are the Heir of Isildur and also the wielder of Anduril, the Sword Reforged; you are the great warrior who fought in the War of the Ring and defeated the Dark Lord Sauron. You have earned your kingdom, Ada! Great things have you accomplished, while I am but your son.”
“And my heir.” Elessar clasped the younger man’s hand. “You are of the line of Luthien, and that line does not fail. Do not underestimate yourself.”
“You are a great man, Atarinya,” Eldarion said passionately. “I shall protect, defend, and care for our people as best I may, but never shall I be as great as you.”
Elessar’s grip tightened. “You should not seek to be me, Eldarion, nor should you seek to be any man other than yourself. You will do well as king, for your thought, as always, was to care for our people, and that is the mark of a true leader. I am but a man, my son, and like all Men, I must die. See to your mother. I fear she will find the Gift of Illuvatar to Men to be a bitter one.”
Eldarion knelt beside the bier; it was only when Elessar reached up and gently brushed away his tears that he realized he had begun to weep openly. “I shall, Atarinya,” he promised, and then kissed his father’s brow.
His father smiled. “Call them all back inside.”
Eldarion rose and did so. When the King’s family and his Steward had returned, King Elessar, in the sight of them all, gave the winged crown of Gondor and the scepter of Arnor into his son’s hands. Then Eldarion kissed his father’s brow one last time, and departed the room with his sisters and the Steward, leaving their mother and father alone.
Outside, they all wept and embraced each other, Eldarion and Elboron, too. After some minutes, the Queen came out, and it was clear to Eldarion that his mother had wept. It seemed also that the light in the eyes of Queen Arwen had been quenched. For the first time that any could recall, she appeared aged.
“Mother…?” one of her daughters said.
“The King is dead,” Queen Arwen said flatly. “Long live the King!”
Steward Elboron immediately bent the knee, and so did his sisters’ husbands, as well as the guards, and all the servants. To Eldarion’s astonishment, his sisters also curtsied, and even his lady mother did so. He immediately moved to raise Arwen up.
“Lady, you were my mother before ever I was your king,” he told her.
“And now you must rule,” she said.
There was nothing to be said to that, but Eldarion no longer felt any apprehension. Perhaps it came of knowing that his father was at peace.
His mother said farewell to Eldarion, to her daughters, and to all those whom she loved. Then, at her request, King Eldarion had her escorted from Minas Tirith, from Gondor, and to where Lothlorien once had been; there she remained until such time as the Gift of Illuvatar to Men came to her. For many years afterward, at least insofar as Men deem such things, Eldarion King ruled the reunited lands justly and well, passing them on in due time to his own son. And if he was never known as “the Great,” as his father had been, he came to be known among Men as “King Eldarion the Good,” and that is no small thing.
Ranking: 2nd place
Summary: Being the son of a legendary man can be difficult.
Rating: K+, for mention of canonical character death.
Disclaimer: The characters of “The Lord of the Rings” were created by J.R.R. Tolkien, not by me. No copyright violation is intended. I believe the good professor would understand that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, and would not want anyone to sue me.
Characters: Aragorn, Eldarion, Arwen
How does one follow a legend? That was Eldarion’s thought, as he gazed down at the King, who had lain himself down on the bier prepared for him in Rath Dinen.
King Elessar. My father.
Behind him, his sisters were weeping, many of the others present as well, but Eldarion dared not. For I shall be King when my father departs, and a king must not be seen to weep.
But did he really believe that? As his father said his goodbyes to everyone—the servants, his sisters, their husbands, Steward Elboron—a part of Eldarion thought it unnatural that he did not weep. Certainly he wanted to. In the back of his mind a part of him was crying; “Ada! Ada, don’t go!” over and over again. Judging by the sorrowful countenance of his mother, she also felt that the King was leaving too soon.
The King. Always, that has been synonymous with my father. But once he accepts the Gift of the One, when the Men of Gondor and Arnor speak of the King, they shall refer to me. Long have I known that this responsibility would be mine, and I accept it. But how can I ever be the man my father is? There is no greater Man in all of Arda!
His sisters, one by one, drew near to the bier to say goodbye. His father clasped each daughter’s hand and spoke last words just for her. At the end, each of King Elessar’s three daughters kissed their father’s brow, and then stood back, weeping softly.
King Elessar looked at them all. “Leave us,” he said. “I would speak with my son alone.”
Eldarion was surprised, but his mother clearly was not. “We shall return when you have finished speaking to him,” Queen Arwen said quietly. She bent over, kissed her husband, and shepherded the others out the door. Father and son were left alone together. Their gazes met. Fighting back tears, Eldarion took his father’s hand.
“You are a man full grown, and ripe for the kingship,” Elessar said. “I am proud of you, my son. It is a comfort to me, to know that our people shall be left in capable hands.”
“Those hands have always been yours,” Eldarion answered. “Many of your subjects have known no ruler other than Elessar the Great. How can I follow a legend?” He flushed, embarrassed at letting those words past his lips, ashamed that he could think of himself at a time such as this. My father is dying, and I am concerned about how it will affect me?
His father only smiled. “A legend? I am but a man, my son.”
“You have always been known as ‘the hardiest of living Men,’ and justly so,” his heir insisted. “You are Aragorn Elessar, ruler of the reunited Kingdom, Healer and Redeemer. You are the Heir of Isildur and also the wielder of Anduril, the Sword Reforged; you are the great warrior who fought in the War of the Ring and defeated the Dark Lord Sauron. You have earned your kingdom, Ada! Great things have you accomplished, while I am but your son.”
“And my heir.” Elessar clasped the younger man’s hand. “You are of the line of Luthien, and that line does not fail. Do not underestimate yourself.”
“You are a great man, Atarinya,” Eldarion said passionately. “I shall protect, defend, and care for our people as best I may, but never shall I be as great as you.”
Elessar’s grip tightened. “You should not seek to be me, Eldarion, nor should you seek to be any man other than yourself. You will do well as king, for your thought, as always, was to care for our people, and that is the mark of a true leader. I am but a man, my son, and like all Men, I must die. See to your mother. I fear she will find the Gift of Illuvatar to Men to be a bitter one.”
Eldarion knelt beside the bier; it was only when Elessar reached up and gently brushed away his tears that he realized he had begun to weep openly. “I shall, Atarinya,” he promised, and then kissed his father’s brow.
His father smiled. “Call them all back inside.”
Eldarion rose and did so. When the King’s family and his Steward had returned, King Elessar, in the sight of them all, gave the winged crown of Gondor and the scepter of Arnor into his son’s hands. Then Eldarion kissed his father’s brow one last time, and departed the room with his sisters and the Steward, leaving their mother and father alone.
Outside, they all wept and embraced each other, Eldarion and Elboron, too. After some minutes, the Queen came out, and it was clear to Eldarion that his mother had wept. It seemed also that the light in the eyes of Queen Arwen had been quenched. For the first time that any could recall, she appeared aged.
“Mother…?” one of her daughters said.
“The King is dead,” Queen Arwen said flatly. “Long live the King!”
Steward Elboron immediately bent the knee, and so did his sisters’ husbands, as well as the guards, and all the servants. To Eldarion’s astonishment, his sisters also curtsied, and even his lady mother did so. He immediately moved to raise Arwen up.
“Lady, you were my mother before ever I was your king,” he told her.
“And now you must rule,” she said.
There was nothing to be said to that, but Eldarion no longer felt any apprehension. Perhaps it came of knowing that his father was at peace.
His mother said farewell to Eldarion, to her daughters, and to all those whom she loved. Then, at her request, King Eldarion had her escorted from Minas Tirith, from Gondor, and to where Lothlorien once had been; there she remained until such time as the Gift of Illuvatar to Men came to her. For many years afterward, at least insofar as Men deem such things, Eldarion King ruled the reunited lands justly and well, passing them on in due time to his own son. And if he was never known as “the Great,” as his father had been, he came to be known among Men as “King Eldarion the Good,” and that is no small thing.