Disclaimer — The usual…no profit being made, all the characters belong Tolkien, P.J., etc… I give them back to their owners kindly used.

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With a sigh, Aragorn closed the door to his chambers behind him and carefully laid the heavy crown on a nearby table. He had no doubt that someone would put it where it belonged in its velvet-lined box, but at the moment, he felt too drained to care.

"Estel?" Arwen’s soft tones made him turn and hold her close enough to feel himself getting lost in her embrace. "What troubles you so, my love?"

He drew her to sit on the window seat that overlooked her garden. "The cares of a King grow burdensome on one used to being a Ranger," he answered. "A leader in battles and watchfulness. Gondor is somewhat larger and more unpredictable than the wilds in its way."

Laughing softly, Arwen shook her head, her dark hair brushing against his neck and shoulder. "My brothers and I used to joke about the number of roles and names you’d taken, Estel. You gather names as some would gather belongings, cherishing each one…I sometimes wonder which you would prefer."

He ticked them off on his fingers with a smile. "Estel to all those in Imladris until I was grown, Thorongil to the folk of this city so long ago, Aragorn and Strider to the hobbits, King Elessar of Gondor and Arnor, a husband, a father…" He let his voice trail off into a whispered list that finally came to an end. "Certainly more than I can count on these hands. I certainly cannot choose a favorite."

His wife reached across her lap to stroke her hand across the back of his, following the many lines of scars from blades and sharp stones. "Your hands, meleth nín, have had many tasks to complete over the years." She kissed his hand gently and rose to cross the room in a sweep of silk and the scent of roses.

Aragorn watched her move with weary pleasure, and she lifted their son from his bed to carry the child across the room.

"Here you are, then." Arwen murmured lovingly, and she relinquished Eldarion into his father’s outstretched arms.

Carefully sitting the toddler up and supporting him, Aragorn gazed into the tiny face. A pair of wide, grey eyes looked back at him.

"’Da! A-da!" Eldarion crowed, reaching for his father’s shirt-laces. And suddenly, Aragorn knew which name in the list would always have the highest place in his heart.