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Title: Love at First Sight It was love at first sight again, Aragorn thought. He tenderly contemplated the babe he held in his arms. The poets were wrong when they claimed this happened but once in a lifetime. Indeed, it was so when he had met his beloved Arwen, but there were other kinds of love too, less exciting and overwhelming, but no less deep and true. He had loved all his children, his son and daughters, from the moment they had first been placed in his arms. Friends as well, he had had loved from the beginning, as well the faithful steed, Roheryn, his lady's gift. Éomer who could so easily have slain him and his companions, the fair Éowyn, and Faramir, the possible rival whom he had snatched back from the Shadow. Faramir had become the son of his heart. This little one sprang from so many he loved, from Arwen, from their son, from Faramir and Éowyn and their daughter. Aragorn smiled as he handed the babe back to his mother. He had been blessed to know so much love throughout his long life; from the moment of his birth until today. Love was the greatest gift, worth more than any crown. Title: The Hope of Spring Written in honour of Aragorn's birthday and as a belated birthday gift for Estelcontar. Written in haste when I realised the date, therefore not as polished as it might be for which I apologise. Disclaimer - These characters all belong to the estate of J.R.R. Tolkien. This story was written for pleasure and not for financial gain. Spring was in the air, despite the lingering chill. It came early to this Elven haven. Gilraen looked out of the window and was greeted by the joyous singing of the birds. The crocuses were in full bloom, covering the ground with a brilliant carpet of yellow and purple. Gilraen dressed her young son warmly. Aragorn; or Estel, as she must how call him, chattered happily as she led him by the hand outside. His childish fingers already grasped hers with an unusual strength for a child so young. He laughed happily as she let him lead her to where the young lambs were frisking in a nearby field. Despite the lingering sorrow in her heart, Gilraen felt a sudden surge of joy. Her child was thriving and had reached his fourth birthday unscathed, and safely hidden. Every day her love for her son increased until it almost overwhelmed her. He was growing tall and strong, a lively child with a warm and loving heart. "Hope" they called him, and if any hope remained for their people, it was through this child. How could any mother not rejoice in such a son? As winter gave way to spring, she had borne him; and like the spring he had brought new life to the weary Dúnedain. His smile had melted the frost that had threatened to engulf her heart when Arathorn fell. Spring though, must give way to summer; a child must become a man. A flash of foresight came upon Gilraen and for an instant; there was no longer a child before her, but a man, robed in splendour, a star blazing upon his brow, a green jewel upon his breast and a mighty sword in his hand. Gilraen swayed as if she were about to swoon. She blinked and rubbed her eyes. "Naneth, don't be sad, Estel will make it better!" Gilraen smiled as Estel's warm fingers pressed a flower in her hand. She stooped and he reached up to kiss her cheek. Maybe her son was destined to break the grip of the Dark Lord's winter? She scooped him up in her arms and said, " No, I am not sad, Estel. Your naneth is happy today for it is your birthday, and who could be heavy of heart when spring is almost here?" A skylark soared above, flying ever higher, singing exultantly as it sought its mate.
Title: The King's Blessings Author: Linda Hoyland Arwen looked up, her eyes alight with love as her husband entered the room. A little way behind him came his Steward. Both men looked weary. “I am sorry I am late my love,” said the King, embracing her warmly. ”Do you mind if Faramir dines with us? The Council meeting went on too long for him to return home to Éowyn tonight.” “He is always most welcome at our table as he has become one of our family,” said the Queen. “Come and sit down. Farawyn took her first steps today. I have been waiting for you to come home to tell you, Estel.” “That is wonderful news! Our little girl is growing so fast.” Aragorn took his place at the table. After the three had observed the Standing Silence a servant brought them the soup, a delicious mixture of tomato and basil, both grown in the Citadel gardens and freshly harvested that day. Aragorn found himself thinking just how fortunate he was as he looked across at his wife. She was his to love and cherish to the end of his days. There had been times he had despaired of ever winning her love, and then fulfilling the conditions her father had set for her hand, but he had succeeded. Marriage to Arwen was an even greater bliss than he had dared imagine and they now had a fair daughter as well as their beloved Eldarion; the children he had always longed for and feared he would never have. “You are most gracious to invite me,” Faramir said, raising his spoon to his lips. “I am blessed by your friendship.” “As we are by yours.” Aragorn regarded his young Steward fondly; the man was a true treasure, who had done everything to assist his lord, when he could so easily have resented yielding the rod to another. Faramir had become the best and truest friend that any man could ever wish for. The King’s eyes wandered over to the window. His weariness had left him It was a fine night and Gondor lay peaceful beneath a cloudless sky. No clouds of war threatened her horizons. Even the weather had been fair this year and the harvest was plentiful. Aragorn smiled. He had so much to be thankful for. Was ever any King, or man more fortunate than he? Silently he gave thanks to Eru, the giver of all.
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