Sunday, November 15, 2015

Tales from Valinor: A Garden for Gondor


Frodo eagerly sat down next to Elladan, Elrohir, Celebrian, and Elrond and waited.  

They were sitting in the tower of Tirion upon Tuna, and were looking through the Master Palantir.  Frodo had never seen a Palantir, but he had heard about what they were like from Pippin and Merry.  This was nothing like they described.  It took a whole room to hold the monstrous ball, and there was no way that Pippin could have taken it from Gandalf in his sleep, even if it had been small enough for Gandalf to hold.

From within the Palantir, Aragorn's face appeared.  It did not look like the Strider Frodo remembered, nor did it look like the king from Minas Tirith.  He looked older.  The lines of care were deeper, but there were also more defined lines where it was clear he had smiled and laughed.  His bright blue eyes were as clear as ever, and he still looked honorable and noble.  

"Estel," Elladan said, instinctively.

"No, son.  This is not the Estel of Rivendell who you played with in the woods," Elrond said, smiling, "This is the king of Gondor and of Arnor, his majesty King Elessar."

At this, Aragorn smiled, and looked down modestly.  "Hello, my lords!  And my lady," he said, bowing.  

"Greetings, son of Arathorn," Celebrian chimed in, smiling.  "It is a gift to meet one I have heard my husband speak of so highly."  

Elrond smiled proudly. 

Aragorn returned her greeting.

"Now come, tell me.  Where is my daughter?"  Celebrian asked, excitedly.  Aragorn called gently.

Arwen came into view.  

"Naneth!  Adar!^ Brothers!" She said, joyfully.  They talked for awhile and Elrond shed a couple of tears in his turn, but eventually the conversation became more stable as Aragorn and Arwen sat down.

"How are things there?"  Frodo asked, finally.  He was indeed happy to see his friends, but he wanted to hear more specifically about Pippin, Merry, and especially Sam.

"Things are well," Aragorn began...


Aragorn entered his chamber.  Arwen was sitting on the balcony, absentmindedly playing with a strand of her long dark hair.  "There is a lot of stone in this city..." she said as her new husband took a seat next to her.  He had been at a long council meeting--too long.  There was much to do now that a king had returned.  Things had to be rethought, reverted back into their old ways.  The chair of the stewards was moved into a place of honor, the pyre was dismantled and turned into a fountain.  Faramir had stayed in the city long enough to get Aragorn acquainted with the overall operation, but he had long since moved to Ithilien with Eowyn.  

"Yes, there is a lot of stone," he replied, not sure what Arwen was getting at.

"I think I might like a garden," she mused, "if it pleases your majesty," she said, smiling.  

Aragorn blushed at her use of his title. "I asked you never to call me that," he replied, feigning anger.  She giggled and he sat back on the bench.  

"I think a garden is a wonderful idea.  Where shall we put it?"  He looked over his kingdom.  So large.  So many people milling about in the fading afternoon sun: pulling wagons, children running around, shopkeepers finishing up their day.  So many people counting on him.  He was ready.  He knew it.  He had proved himself throughout the War of the Ring on so many levels.  Now he just had to live it out.

"There," Arwen said suddenly, pointing to an empty courtyard near the Houses of Healing, "so that I may see it when I look over the balcony," she explained.

"That is well," Aragorn replied, "I think that the Lady Eowyn and perhaps the Lord Faramir would approve of that location, as well," he thought.  "I will order it done," he rose and went to write it down.

The spring of the next year was the fairest anyone could remember.  The garden was completed.  Simbelmyne grew all around and in one large mound right in the center to honor Theoden and the Rohirrim.  Kingsfoil grew in abundance in between the stone paths.  It emitted a beautiful fragrance, and the Houses of Healing used it often.

But the most fair thing in the city that spring was the king and queen's son, Eldarion.  He grew swiftly and resembled his mother and father with dark soft hair, but his eyes he took distinctly from his mother: they were piercing and bright elvish blue.


A little boy ran behind Arwen and Aragorn.  "Is that my grandson?" Celebrian asked over the Palantir, tears threatening.

Elrond's smile widened as the little boy's delighted cheers were heard in the background.

"Eldarion, tolo si,*" Aragorn called to his son.  The little boy ran up and jumped on his father's lap.  "This is your grandmother, your grandfather, and your uncles.  And my good friend, Frodo.  Say hello to them."

Eldarion waved shyly.  "Hello.  I'm Eldarion!" He said, proudly.  He hopped away before Aragorn could catch him and Celebrian and Elrond laughed.


^English translation: Mother!  Father!
*English translation: come here

This story was a bit abstract.  I just want to say that it is probably impossible for someone to use a Palantir like this, but I wanted some way to connect Arwen and Aragorn with their families so I could write about them!  Just to be clear, the Palantir part of this story is non-canonical.

This was just a little glimpse into life in Gondor for Aragorn and Arwen.  I basically just wanted to set up how life has been for them thus far and hopefully I can get into some more action in the future.  Remember that I would gladly accept ideas in the comments for any stories you would like told (tidbits from the books that are mysterious and could use elaborating are perfect!).  Thanks for reading!


  1. This is so nice! I love the lightheartedness of this one. It was smart to use a Palantir. Sure it's not possible but it made sense! Gets better and better as I always say! :D

    1. Thanks! Remember if you have any suggestions for plots you want fleshed out to leave them here! Take care :)