July 1 FA

The weather was quite fine in Rohan of late and was welcomed by most inhabitants of Edoras and the neighbouring villages. However in the stuffy confines of the Golden Hall the usually quiet corridors and rooms were filled with the screams of their Queen as she grappled with the heat and the onset of labour.

The usually genteel and kindly woman was unceremonious and uncommonly gruff with those that attended her that day. Her mood already low from the pain that she felt, wasn't made any lighter upon the suggestion of her midwife to light the fires in her chamber. Dressed in nothing than her loosest shift- which had now become saturated with her sweat -the Queen paced about her room, breathing heavily and extendedly.

"That's it my lady, just keep breathing, that's it." Meldis soothed,

"I am breathing damn it!" she cried back, "Forgive me Meldis, I did not mean it." She softened.

"I know my Lady but will you please come rest? You exert yourself too much." The maid replied,

"The pain is worse when I lay down Meldis,"

Lothiriel bent double over the covers of her bed and clenched tightly to the post at its foot, screaming through the fresh new pain that tore within her.

"They're getting closer," Ealdwen the midwife spoke knowingly, "Your highness; you must lie down now it won't be long."

Lothiriel nodded but as she clenched her teeth could not utter a sound.

Meldis supported her ladies weight and helped lower her onto the mattress. The usual thick furs and soft linens that covered the King and Queens bed had been replaced with coarse cloth more suitable to boil washing. Ealdwen rolled the hem of Lothiriel's dress up past her knees and spread the Queen's ankles wide so to get a better look at her opening. She nodded to the old matron and grasped her small ankles more firmly,

"Alright my Lady, you need to push now."

The terrified Queen gripped Meldis' hand and steeled herself to push.

o0o

The next few hours in the Golden Hall were tense. The usually bustling corridors were still and the only sound amidst the building was the intermittent screams from along the hallway towards the royal chambers.

Eomer was not allowed admittance to their room whilst Lothiriel gave birth; and the hardened King was grateful. He had fought many battles, tendered countless wounds and witnessed various atrocities in his short years, but even he had to admit the idea of his wife in pain, was more than he could bear. The anxious man attempted to keep himself busy in his study, yet it had not worked. Eomer had scanned the same text three times and had not read any further. His study was situated far away enough from their chambers that usually he could sit there for hours without being disturbed; but the lack of incumbents had made the corridors echo eerily. Every now and then the King was sure he heard the high pitched tones of his wife, and with every fresh new scream Eomer ran to the door of his offices to peer down the hallway expectantly.

It had been some years since the King had wished for his Father to be with him now; to offer some encouraging words. His Uncle, King Theoden had cared for him and loved him as his own son over the years, but the deceased King never spoke to Eomer about wifing and having children – as his own wife had died during childbirth. He knew his own Father would have been able to give some useful advice and comfort having gone through childbirth with his mother twice.

The worrying King put the papers down on his desk, ran his fingers through his loose hair and began pacing the floor. Suddenly there was quiet and stillness in the Golden hall. Those that could spare the moment stopped whatever work they were doing to listen more closely. There had not been silence like that for a long time, and the calm felt unnervingly ominous. Fears subsided as a child's cries echoed throughout Meduseld and the shouts of a lad mixed in with it,

"A boy, a boy has been born this day in Edoras. Bless Foldewyn, bless the King and Queen!"

Eomer swung the oaken door of his study open with such force that he almost ripped it from the hinges. He strode down the corridors as fast as he could and broke into a run through the last one until he came to the doors of his room. There Meldis stood wearing an apron covered in blood and a look of plague on her face. The anxious King stopped in front of her, pretending not to notice the red stained cloth, that the maid tore from around her waist in an attempt to hide it,

"Meldis how fares the child?" he asked eagerly,

"The child is fine my Lord," the matron replied flatly, "but my Lady," she paused.

Eomer grew grave and grasped the older woman's shoulders, "What Meldis, what is wrong with Lothiriel?"

The woman sobbed profusely and could not utter a sound.

"Whatever it is, I would have you tell me. How is my wife?" he spoke more desperately.

"She tore dreadfully, there was so much blood"

"Does she live?" he barely uttered.

"She lives my king. But we were unable to repair the tear." She replied grimly.

"What does that mean Meldis?"

"We are unsure as of yet my Lord, but there is a chance," she drew breath, "There is a chance she may not fully recover."

Eomer searched the maid's eyes for some clarification but could not find any; she was telling the truth, which scared him all the more.

The King waited patiently outside their room for some hours until he was allowed admittance. He was usually a level headed man who was not easily tempered, but as time wore on he grew impatient and irritant as various people entered and exited his wife's room, and he was still barred from entering. Eventually Ealdwen opened the door wide and beckoned the now frantic man inside.

As Eomer walked through the door he saw the small cradle that had been made especially for their child's birth placed next to their bed. From inside he could hear the soft gurgle and breathing of the small infant. He walked slowly over to the cot and peered inside and saw a small, wrinkly child, who seemed too small for the bed he now lay in. His head was covered with thick dark hair – attributed to his mother- and his tiny hands were curled into fists and placed around his head. Eomer smiled and glanced towards his own bed, where Lothiriel lay although her back was turned away from their son, the King glanced at the last two people that remained in the room and had been there with his wife through the day's events. Both gave nothing away with the looks upon their faces so it was left up to him to ask,

"What news?" he said nervously,

Both women looked at each other first, but it was Ealdwen to speak first,

"We could not repair the tear my Lord. The only way to prevent the risk of infection was to," she paused,

Eomer urged her to continue with a look,

"The only wat to prevent infection was to remove the womb."

The King looked from Ealdwen to his wife and noticed for the first time that she was crying uncontrollably.