Disclaimer: All recognizable events, places, and characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien and possibly New Line Cinema. I am not profiting from this fanfiction, it is written purely for my own enjoyment and that of any who read it.

A/N: The final chapter is here, and I can finally write something else, something more angsty! I tried to continue writing other fics while writing this one, and failed miserably; I kept putting humor in places where it really didn't fit. I can write multiple fics of similar moods at once, but when the atmospheres are complete opposites, it doesn't turn out so well. I actually caught myself forcing Aragorn to crack jokes to his widow-and-orphan-to-be on his death bed, and that's seriously inappropriate. ;)

Thanks to juliette black and iccle fairy for reviewing the last chapter, you have both been very encouraging! :)

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"Ada! That's not fair!" a high, childish voice chided in a sullen tone.

"Eldarion, you did not tell anyone where you were going! Your guards were ready to send search parties to cover every inch of ground from here to Bree." a man's exasperated voice responded to the child's.

"But...but...but Ellie's not getting punished!" Eldarion cried indignantly.

Aragorn turned in surprise, quirking a dark eyebrow at his son.

"Is that what this is about? Do you truly want Elanor to be punished for following your own lead? That is not wise, ion-nîn."

The little boy's jaw dropped, and he quickly backtracked, deciding to try a different tactic.

"No! Ada, I just - I just wanted to teach Ellie to defend herself! I didn't mean to make you worry!"

Aragorn's face softened, and he knelt down in front of his son, enfolding him into a warm embrace.

"Eldarion, that's fine. Truly. But please, next time tell someone when you're going to leave; don't just slip out while everyone distracted." He pulled away and studied his son's face, waiting for a reponse.

"Yes, Ada."

"Good. Now, we really should be getting on to the inn, because if our luck so far on this trip holds, that hobbit will have misplaced half of our belongings and all of our horses."

Arwen interrupted, "Really, Aragorn, Lettice wasn't that bad. Just a little - ah, starstruck."

Aragorn grunted. "Starstruck. Right. The child couldn't even form a sentence in your presence."

The Queen of Gondor smiled mysteriously and said no more.

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Three sets of wide eyes watched from behind three heads of fair hair as the handle on the front door of The Green Dragon slowly turned.

"This better be them, brother, because if they are not, I am going to make Father give you my kitchen work for the next week." The tallest figure joked to the smallest, who looked less than amused.

"I swear they were here, and they have to come back soon, because they left their baggage here." the shortest hobbit responded quickly, watching the door nervously.

As the door creaked open, the siblings fell silent, intent upon the objects of their attention.

First, a small figure appeared, followed closely by two tall figure, who in turn were tailed by a dozen Big People of varying degrees of largeness.

"See!" the smallest hobbit whispered excitedly. "It's them!"

"Hush up, Lettice." the second-tallest hobbit responded, clapping his hand over his younger brother's mouth. "We can't see them clearly yet. How do we know it's really them?"

As the group made their way further into the lobby of the inn, one of the tall figures made his way swiftly towards the bar, but before he could ask for a drink, the figure behind him called out in an obviously feminine, and obviously amused tone.

"Elessar! Come away from there; we have to leave this night and travel far, and you will be in no fit condition to do so if I allow you to consume some of that vile ale."

The trio of hobbits gasped in unison, turned to stare at each other in wonder.

"Elessar? Isn't that the King of the West?"

"Did she say Elessar? I didn't know his name before!"

"She might be his wife; I heard he married an elf! The lucky lad!"

In their astonishment, they forgot to lower their voices, and the eldest sibling's final comment fell upon an entirely silent room, much to the amusement of the party of newcomers, and the chagrin of the hobbits.

"Did you hear that, meleth nîn?" the elf's voice rang with ill-concealed laughter. "Our friend here approves of our marriage!"

The man by the bar shook back the hood of his cloak, revealing chiseled features and dark, slightly wavy hair that fell to his shoulders.

"Aye, I heard it." he responded, eyes crinkling in mirth. "It is good that he at least approves, because Lord Elrond had enough disapproval of our relationship to fill the hearts of several hobbits."

One of the guards supressed a chuckle at this statement.

Arwen narrowed her eyes at her husband.

"Estel, anglenno. I will not have your health compromised this night by a momentary lapse of judgement."

Aragorn looked quite sullen at this. "My lady, you insult me. Think you I cannot handle a glass of ale, made by only the finest, and a gift from Mithrandir himself?"*

"I do not doubt your ability to hold alcohol, dearest, after all, you and your people frequented Bree's tavern often enough in past days to develop a sour reputation, but I would prefer you not endulge this habit tonight."

Aragorn sighed and gave up, but as he returned to his wife's side, he muttered, "Eldarion has caused enough stress this night to silver my hair prematurely, and now you're doing it too."

Arwen simply smiled and drew Aragorn closer before settling her attention back on the three hobbits who had started their conversation.

"Lettice, would you please alert the stablehand that we would like our horses to be ready shortly? We plan to be on our way within the hour."

Lettice nodded and sprinted out the open door, leaving his two brothers to gape helplessly at the newly revealed royalty before their eyes.

The smaller of the two broke his silence first, with a soft squeak followed by a swift retreat into the kitchens.

Arwen's eyes followed the hobbit's progress openly. Eldarion, who had been mercifully quiet until this point, chose to speak at just the right moment. Just after the eldest sibling realized he had been left in the presence of a family of unfathomable grandoise, the little boy asked such a refreshingly normal question that the young perian could have cried in relief.

"Excuse me, when is breakfast to be served?"

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The hooves of fifteen horses clattered down the rustic path, their destination within sight. Four small figures stood at the end of the road, two even smaller than their parents.

"Elda'ron!" a high voice bridged the remaining distance between the friends.

"'Lo, Ellie." the prince of Gondor responded, trying valiantly to keep the despondent edge out of his greeting. Unfortunately, he failed.

"What's wrong, Elda'ron?" The fair haired little girl wriggled out of her father's arms and craned her neck to look up at her new friend, whose face now sat several feet above her own.

Eldarion sighed, a sound far too old for his years, and Arwen reflected that he must have learned it from his father as she helped him dismount from his young horse.

"We're leaving, Ellie." he said quietly, apparently having forgotten that he was surrounded by nearly two dozen others.

The hobbit lass smiled. "I know. Is that all?"

Eldarion gaped, clearly astonished that his friend did not share his view that this must be the end of the world.

"Elda'ron, we're not sayin' goodbye, we're sayin' farewell. We'll see each other again."

Aragorn glanced knowingly at Sam, who smiled sheepishly at his old friend and confirmed his suspicions with a nod. It was obvious that Elanor was repeating her father's wisdom, as Aragorn had done himself with Elrond's words as a child.

Both children smiled at each other.

"I guess we will, Ellie. I guess we will." Eldarion agreed. He looked at Elanor a moment longer, then turned abuptly.

"Come on, Ada, Nana. We have to go home now." he told his parents, allowing his mother to help him mount his steed again.

Aragorn smiled at his son, then nodded at the Gamgees.

"We'll return soon enough. Namárië, my friends, until our next meeting."

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*I stole this from The Prancing Pony, which, according to the chapter 'The Council of Elrond' in the Fellowship of the Ring, has been fortunate enough to have its beer enchanted by Gandalf. I thought it would be fun to give the enchanted ale to The Green Dragon instead.

meleth nîn - my love

Estel, anglenno - Estel, come closer.

Namárië - farewell

A/N: Many thanks to all those who read, reviewed, or otherwise offered support and/or feedback throughout the (short) course of this story! You're all very much appreciated, and I'll never forget my surprise when I checked the traffic for Chapter Three and found that the view count had passed 100 in less than a single day. You guys all rock.