Author's Note: I updated this story to Rating M, just to be safe. One of the most recent Chapter Updates includes a scene that is in flashback form but I wanted to cover myself so everyone knows.

The sunlight spilled through the window, lighting the features of her sleeping face. The light woke her slowly, as if the sun itself did not yet want to rise. Truth be told, she knew what awaited her when she awoke fully—the misery of a morning illness.

Her stomach did a slight turnover, and that was the moment she first realized that she must be fully awake. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her swirling stomach. Rolling gently onto her back, she tried to soothe the feeling of throwing up all she had for dinner last evening. She hated waking up to that feeling, but there had not been an option lately. What she did like waking up to every morning was the man she knew lay beside her, and of late, the notion that she was with child. With child…

The thought made a smile break onto her beautiful face, and she turned her head to her left to look on the handsome form of her beloved. She watched as the sun slowly rose in the window, lifting the light on his face upward with it. He slept peacefully, and she smiled again, moving her hand forward to run her fingers through his long, soft brown hair. He smiled.

She gave him a suspicious look. "Aragorn…" she whispered softly, "are you awake, melda?" She traced her fingers down his cheek, feeling the prickliness of his beard, and then realized that he was not awake. He must be having a very good dream. For him to smile in his sleep was rare, and the days she caught him were even more so. She treasured the days when she awoke first, for normally, she would wake and find him watching her sleep. Today, she could watch him slowly awaken with the dawn. She must have kept him up too late last night. Ah well… She smiled at the thought of keeping him up late again…though she could not do it too often, the Council would complain that he was lacking as a King, though he never was. Aragorn lived for the people, and no matter what job was required of him, he did it with his whole heart. She loved him so, and her smile grew as she thought of it.

Her smile faded, and she swallowed again, closing her eyes against the feel of the morning breeze on her cheek. Calm stomach…calm… How she hated that feeling! She rolled onto her left side for a moment and gently brushed his lips with hers. Carefully, she slipped from their bed, allowing him to stay asleep for however much longer his own body would permit. Slipping on her robe and tying it, she moved quietly to the window, thinking of her morning illness, but even more thinking of what that meant.

A child…a babe that was hers and Aragorn's. He was the happiest man in the world, not that he had not been happy before, but they had waited so long; nearly seven years they had been wed and they had no children. He would be the most wonderful father, for she had always thought so and had never doubted for a moment how badly either of them wanted children. From the old days, it had always been difficult for elves to have children, and she was so certain that they had been blessed. She and Aragorn had been blessed with a child, and from the moment it was discovered, they had been thanking Eru ever since. It did not matter to her whether the child was boy or girl, just that it was hers and Aragorn's…that the child was of their union and of Eru's making. No matter how difficult the carrying of this child would be, she would gladly bear it.

She rested her head against the wooden border of the window of the King's House—their home. Gondor never looked more beautiful than just before morning and just before nightfall. Her mind still focused on the small life within her; she began to sing softly to that life, a lullaby that she remembered since she was just a little girl:

Lissë titta lapsë, hlaralye sina nînóma?

Lissë titta hina, rato nuvalye ranquiesse nîn.

Lissë titta lapsë, rato cenuvalye i récal.

Lissë titta hina, rato nuvalye ranquiesse nîn.

Lissë titta lapsë, oloe i réieva túl.

Lissë titta hina, rato nuvalye ranquiesse nîn.

Lissë titta lapsë, hina nîn, i menelanna.

Lissë titta hina, rato nuvalye ranquiesse nîn.

Rato nuvalye ranquiesse nîn.

"[Sweet little babe, can you hear this voice of mine? Sweet little child, soon you will be in my arms. Sweet little babe, soon you will see the light of day. Sweet little child, soon you will be in my arms. Sweet little babe, dream of the days to come. Sweet little child, soon you will be in my arms. Sweet little babe, my child, the gift from heaven. Sweet little child, soon you will be in my arms. Soon you will be in my arms.]"

She had been so focused on the small soul within her that she had not heard Aragorn rise from the bed. He had listened to her nearly whispered song, and had almost fallen back asleep to it. She looked so radiant standing there in the morning light that she took his breath away; he took in her long legs, her dark hair, her lithe figure…. As her voice trailed off, he moved up behind her and gently placed his arms about her, his hands stretching gently over her womb. She closed her eyes, and laid her head back against his chest, feeling the soft fabric of his robe brush her cheek. She smiled softly.

"Arwen…" he whispered, and brushed his lips to her neck, trailing kisses along her jaw. She laid a hand on his face, feeling his beard once again, and she held his chin as she gave him a gentle kiss. She slipped her left hand over his. "How are you feeling this morning, beloved?"

She smiled at him, and swallowed again. "The usual, verno." He lifted her chin so that his eyes met hers, and he looked at her seriously.

"That badly?" he questioned her, his expression concerned. "Perhaps you should still be in bed." She laughed gently, her voice filling the room, and she shook her head at him.

"If I were to lie down at every ill moment, I would not get out of our bed."

He smiled then. "Then to think, you would always be where I want you," he laughed.

She slapped the arm wrapped about her waist. "Where you want me?"

"Well…not always; this morning I hoped you would be feeling well enough for a ride. Asfaloth has been questioning me quite a bit lately, and I thought perhaps you would go down and calm his fear that you no longer love him as much as you once did." She frowned.

"I do not see him as often as I would like," she admitted.

"He knows you still love him," he said, stroking her hair away from her face. "But he misses you, nonetheless."

"I do not think I will make it down there today, but I still think that you should go. Do not punish Brego and Asfaloth for your wife's sake. Take them for their ride."

"They enjoy it when you come," he said seriously.

She smiled tenderly at him. "I know it. However…"

"I understand. And you are right; Brego will be angry with me if I do not go down. I will give your love to them, of course." He sighed, and then his face became affectionate. "How is our child this morning?"

"Not kicking yet," she laughed, "but I am certain she is wonderful."

"And soothed by your loving voice, no doubt." She smiled at him as he ran his hands along the small bump that was her womb.

"You heard me," she stated.

"Near the end of your song, I did wake," he said, and then he tilted his head over her shoulder and looked down at her belly. "Good morning, little one. Daddy was listening to Mother sing to you; her voice is so beautiful, is it not? And when you are here with us, in our arms, Mommy will sing to you all the time."

"And Daddy," Arwen said softly and he leaned his face into her throat and kissed her skin. She trembled, smiling slyly to herself. "And here, I thought Daddy was so tired that his body had abandoned all sense of time."

His eyes darkened, and certainly not with anger. "If there were enough time—"

"Ah…but then you would be exhausted again, and Faramir would say that you are too tired to be King Elessar today."

He gave her a look that at any other time would have taken down the walls she had in place to protect herself from him taking her back to their bed. She quickly looked away and moved from his arms. He reached out to grab her, but she slipped out of his reach with a short laugh.

She glanced back at him and saw his desire for her in his eyes. "Aragorn…must I get a rein for you as well as for Brego?" she asked. He gave her that smile, the one only meant for her.

"My love…a bit as well."

"Aragorn…" she warned, as he moved a step closer to her. She held out her hand palm outward, and he stopped short. "Control yourself…behave…" she scolded. "You have much to do today…your work with Legolas and Gimli on the rebuilding of the wall—"

"Legolas and Gimli may wait." He took a step closer.

"—Faramir may need your help with the guards—"

"Faramir can deal with it alone." He took another step.

"—Brego will be angry—"

"If Brego had a wife such as you, he would completely understand. Nevertheless, I will explain the situation to him and he will realize that he should not be angry." He was within an arm's length of her now, and her hand was pressed against his chest, still holding him at bay.

She laughed. "You will tell Brego?"

"Everything…" he said softly, lowering his voice purposely to seduce her to lean closer to hear him. "Brego hears all; he will understand."

"I do not—Aragorn!" At the last moment, he reached for her, and she just escaped, hurrying out of his reach. Instead of giving up like she thought he would, he gave chase. She burst out laughing as he chased her out of their bedroom, through the sitting room, around their dining room table, and back into the bedroom. She rounded the doorway, just as he caught up with her. He reached out and snatched her about the little bump, his arm wrapping lower over her hips, and she cried out in laughter as he pulled her towards him and then pushed her back gently up against the wall. He held one arm on either side of her to keep her in place. Bending his head low, he gave her a gentle kiss.

She sighed after kissing him in return. "You should go now," she said softly. He nodded slightly, and leaned over to kiss her again, this time on her forehead. He straightened and brushed her hair from her face. Smiling, he turned away to get dressed. She laughed and eyed his back suspiciously. "You had no intention of seducing me…"

He flashed her a smile over his shoulder. "The thrill of the chase, meleth nîn, though I could have laid you back in that bed. Sadly, I cannot meet you for breakfast. I am going immediately to help supervise the wall after Brego's ride, so I will not see you before dinner. Try not to get into much trouble today, meleth."

"Aragorn, I am going out among the throngs…what could possibly go wrong?"

He laughed. "Have a wonderful time, meleth. I love you." He slipped into the other room, and she smiled at his back.

She laughed again. "Im mela le, Elessar."

"Mān tuile lean, mellon Brego, [Good morning to you, friend Brego,]" said Aragorn as he moved into the great bay's stall. Asfaloth snorted from the one next to him just as Brego nudged Aragorn. "I did not forget you, Asfaloth. Arwen sends her love, but she is still not feeling well, as you both know. Did you believe I was not coming, friends?"

Both horses snorted in reply, and Brego tossed his head, moving it so that it went over the man's shoulder. Aragorn laughed and rubbed his neck.

"I could not go a day without a visit." After a nicker from both of the stallions, Aragorn began to groom the bay. Asfaloth waited patiently for his turn, and it soon arrived, for the man they both loved so much did not waste time. He smiled thoughtfully to himself as he combed the gray's mane. If he did not have these horses in his life, what would he do with himself? Riding had always been one of the greatest pleasures of his life, and he would take advantage of that every moment he could. Brego nickered at him, popping his head over the stall to look at him.

Aragorn's face glowed. "Not for a few more months, at least. We must be patient for the little one, my friend." Asfaloth whinnied. "Yes," Aragorn replied with a laugh, "it is an awfully long time to wait, but we have no choice in the matter. I am certain that Faramir will bring their little one down to see Windfola and Dwimorisen, so perhaps you will get to see at least one child soon."

When he had finished, he walked out of Asfaloth's stall and headed down the aisle. Both stallions joined him, eager to start their morning run. He stroked the noses of Faramir and Éowyn's, Legolas's, and Gimli's horses on his way out of the stable. He walked in between the two huge stallions as they traveled towards the outer city gate. 'Good mornings' were said along the way, followed by many 'hail the King's which Aragorn acknowledged; to him, the morning was not Elessar's time, but Aragorn's.

Reaching the outer gate, Aragorn slowed and stopped, staring out at the large fields that lay for many miles about the City. Asfaloth stared too; however, he was eager to go and snorted. Brego, who was even more impatient than the grey, pawed the ground and bumped Aragorn with his head. He laughed and rubbed the bay's forehead.

"All right, my friend, let us get going, shall we?" Brego tossed his head in reply, and it was Asfaloth's turn to do a stamp of impatience. Aragorn patted his shoulder and then vaulted up onto the bay's back. As soon as Brego knew he had a grip, he and Asfaloth were off faster than an arrow shot from Legolas's bow.

Aragorn realized a moment later, as he usually did every morning, that it was now their time, and he was along for the ride. Clutching Brego's mane and holding on with just the muscles that he had in his legs, Aragorn was ready for another wonderful morning ride.

The Elven maiden tossed her head, allowing her long golden hair to flow free from the hood of her cloak. It was a chilly December morning, but being an elf she did not feel the weather as the humans did in the very human city before her. She wore an Elvish riding outfit that was comfortable and casual, but did nothing to hide her beauty. Anyone that glanced upon her would see the elegance and grace that was typical of her race.

Lothlórien was a long way behind her, but she was glad that she would soon see her good friend. It was an awfully long way to travel to see one person, and in the completely opposite direction than she was supposed to be traveling. As far as she had heard, her friend was the only elf in this strange mortal city, and she intended to find out what that was all about. When she was younger, she had spent many years with Arwen, particularly when the young daughter of Elrond had stayed with her grandmother in Lothlórien. She still could not believe that the young Elven woman she had spent so much time with in Lórien was the same one who had bound herself to a mortal and was now the Queen of the Reunited Kingdom. These stories were not of the Arwen she knew; when had she fallen for a mortal, and what could possibly bring her to the point where she had pledged her life to him, to consent to become his Queen? To get any answers, she would need to speak with Arwen. She reminded herself to try to keep her mind on the moment.

But it was difficult to do so as she had never been anywhere that was strictly Adar; in fact, she had never been outside the borders of Lórien except to journey to the Grey Havens to see her parents away many, many years ago. That was the first, and the last time, she went out to see the world. Now, she had no desire to see the world…only her friend, and then she would be on her way back to the Havens herself for her final journey. Middle-Earth held nothing for her anymore. She was tired…so tired. It was time for her to leave, just as the Lady had left; Lothlórien was a shadow of its former self.

The fair-haired elf looked down at the dark mane of the stallion she rode. It had not been her intention to purchase a horse who was so high-strung. She had been told he was a good mount and that he would carry her well, and elves were known to be naturally good with animals. This horse she had come to find, however, was as stubborn as a mule and at other times as flighty as a deer. He was constant movement, and if she had any sense at all, she would have fared better trekking the entire distance on foot. She had come to calling him 'Avar,' which meant 'refuser;' he was a fire-brand who always chose to do what he wanted whenever he wished to do it. She did try to reward him when he was good, though, and as they jogged nicely towards the many-layered City, she reached down to stroke the black's neck.

"Good boy, Avar; good work." The black snorted and then suddenly exploded beneath her like a cannon, leaping up into the air and rearing, striking out with his front legs, and then leaping again and thrashing out with his back feet. The maiden snatched mane, her left foot slipping from the stirrup as he came back down from his rear, and when he bucked, she was flung out of the saddle. Gripping the stallion's mane and breastcollar, she released the reins, landing hard on her feet with a huff. He bucked once more and she rolled out of the way of his flashing hooves and they both came to a stop in the fields of the Pelennor several feet from each other. Avar dropped his head and began munching on the dying grass, and she, sitting now, glared at him.

"Honestly! What is the matter with you?" she snarled. It had to be the most irritating behavior! She had always been a good rider, but this horse was testing all the limits of her patience; she never had much to begin with, and she had a temper like her father—short, with a snaplike a whip. She rolled her shoulders and neck and brushed grass from her sleeves.

She had to lift her head when she heard hoof beats, as she was not expecting them, being the only one out here on the road between the outer and inner gates. Nearly fifty yards from her were two horses, a gray and a bay, one bearing a man. The black's head shot up as well, and he nickered a greeting. The man stopped a few yards away and dismounted, walking towards her, his features concerned. Her palms suddenly began to sweat, and she readied herself to leap to her feet in defense.

"My Lady, are you all right?" he asked. As he came up to her, she eyed him closely. She might have called him handsome had he not had a beard; she disliked facial hair in general, but then, she was an elf. He had grey eyes and dark hair, and his face was kind…but she knew better than to trust that. It was the gentleness in his voice, the softness in it that surprised her. He wore well-used boots, a simple tunic and leggings, and his horses bore no tack at all—which showed him to be a good rider and from within the walls.

"I am fine, my Lord," she said, and though he reached a hand out to her, she eyed it with distrust. She rose to her feet quite smoothly on her own. "I thank you." The man looked at her and found that not only was she Elvish, she seemed very familiar somehow…but that was impossible.

"Where have you journeyed from, my Lady? The Elvish kingdoms are far…Lothlórien, perhaps?" She seemed wary to say anything to agree or disagree with that assessment, so he continued, trying to make her a bit more at ease. She seemed nervous…like a skittish horse waiting for a reason to explode into motion. "I saw what happened," he said, nodding back towards his horses, which stood behind him. "I was nearby. He is a magnificent stallion…which I think he knows very well." He chuckled and the elf sighed, crossing her arms. "What is his name?"

She glanced behind him towards his horses; the grey was looking towards her black and whinnying, the bay was still as a stone, watching the man speaking with her. "I…Avar is his name. I am a good rider," she said honestly, "but he simply ignores me and breaks into fits of bucking and rearing. Nothing I do seems to calm him."

"You are an elf, my Lady," the man said softly and with a smile, "therefore, you were born to ride." She raised an eyebrow at him, and he continued, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

She did not mean to sound haughty, but it came out that way. "Thank you, my Lord, but I think that if I can do nothing, there is nothing left to do but find him another master. This would seem a decent enough place to do so."

He frowned. "Would you mind if I had a talk with him?" She shrugged, extending a hand, but stared at him, thinking of his words as he turned towards the black and walked over. Talk with him?

"Avar, hmmm?" the man queried, watching the horse carefully. The horse lifted his head and suddenly noticed him; he began to turn away, whirling on his haunches, but the man snatched the end of the horse's bridle and looked the black right in the eye. "You are young…" he muttered, "you are testing this woman, are you not? That is not how we treat humans."

The elf stared at him as he carried on a conversation with the horse; a seemingly one-sided conversation though Avar snorted a few times, but continued to stare into his face, very still. Finally, after about five minutes, the man released the horse's bridle. "Respect her; she has treated you well. You have no right to teach her anything, young as you are." There was a loud snort from the black, and he lowered his head, nibbling grass near the man's feet. Behind the man, the bay peeled back his lip and whinnied loudly, the grey bobbing his head up and down and flinging it into the air.

The man turned back to her and walked back to her side. "He wishes you to know he is sorry for his behavior," he said softly, watching the black. "He promises to better honor you, but he would like you to please call him by the name he has chosen for himself."

The elf stared at him, incredulous that this man had in any way spoken with her horse; he was a simple mortal…and was almost certainly mad. And really, the horse choosing his own name? What did he think she was? "And, pray," she said, sarcasm dripping in her voice, "tell me what is this name, stranger?"

"He wishes for his name to be Morlómërog," the man said with a smile, and the black whinnied, tossing his head up and snorting. "He said it is mighty, where Avar is a mare's name." He shook his head. "His words, but he is a bit headstrong, and has a high opinion of himself."

The elf's eyes narrowed at him. Who was this man? Her temper suddenly flared. Being insulted by a mere mortal was not to be borne; she was Eldar, immortal, practically revered. "Who are you? A man, a simpleton, who has no right to put words in beasts' mouths when they do not speak themselves and certainly no right to tell me what to name my horse." He looked to her, and suddenly realized how insulted she looked…and found himself discovering that she had not believed a single word that he had said had come from the horse's mouth.

"My Lady—"

"Not another word, please!" she snapped, holding up her hand, and striding away from him to grasp her horse's bridle. "I will deal with my horse as I wish, and I most certainly need no more help to be insulted, especially from strangers such as you. Thank you, but no thank you. Ride back to wherever it is you came from, and quickly. Good day." She tugged the black's reins and he followed along behind her, as good as his word to the man. The gate was not very far; she could get there on foot.

Figuring he had better keep his mouth shut, the man sighed and watched after her. "It was nice to have met you, my Lady," he sighed. He knew enough to leave a lady alone, especially when a flare of temper appeared. He spread a hand out towards her in a grandiose gesture, laughing at his own foolishness. "Welcome to Gondor! Enjoy your stay in my fair city." He turned slowly back to Brego and Asfaloth.

Brego snorted and shook his head. Aragorn slapped him under the chin and he popped his head up, squealing.

"What are you laughing at, mellon nîn?"