A/N: Hello again!
Much shorter than the previous chapter... but I hope you'll forgive me that in the light of me telling you were pretty close to the finishing line. I've a feeling it's only a chapter or two - maybe three depending on what I decide to include.
And then, a response to a review I got for chapter 24 and Marigold from Borys68: Yeah, that wasn't my strongest moment of naming, but what's done is done and she's Marigold. If it makes you feel better, imagine her having a sister named Violet and be happy she's not in the story ;)
Thank you very much for all your support (and reviews) everyone, I love getting email from FF ^^
Aefwyn blew out a sigh of relief as the contraction passed. Her time was coming, but it was not yet, and not for two more months. Her body was preparing for delivery, and her worried state made her contractions come earlier than they had with the previous children.
She untangled herself from the sweaty sheets and sat up. Her bladder was full to bursting, or so it felt, and she twinged when the baby seemed to deliberately aim a few sharp kicks that way. This one was strong; it's kicks fiercer every passing day. Perhaps it did feel the air grow thick with worry and wished to leave her protective womb.
After she had washed her face and dressed with the aid of Marigold, she waddled to the main hall to break her fast. The king's advisors came to her, eager to know of any messenger, but after missives had been received of the victory in Pelennor Fields, silence had yet again reigned.
With the missives she had received a few lines from Éomer, telling her that indeed Éowyn had been with the Rohirrim army, and that she had been wounded in the battle. She was relieved to learn that at the time of writing, Éowyn had been recovering, albeit she had been bedridden and weakened. Edoras had gone to mourning after hearing the other news the letter bore: King Théoden had perished in battle.
That was why Aefwyn was also wearing black. The color suited her ill, but this was the only mourning gown in all of Edoras that would fit her expanding girth. She would have much preferred dark grey, but had sensibly thought that having a new gown made at such a late stage of her pregnancy would be a waste of money. Especially when she had no idea whether her womb would ever quicken again – she would not remarry, should Éomer never return. She could not.
The letter had ended in ominous words: We shall tomorrow morning at first light ride toward the Black Gates to challenge the Dark Lord. Such a challenge it shall be that we have no hope of victory, unless the love of Béma shine over us. I have been told of a young hobbit, a Ringbearer, for whom we attempt this final decoy. You shall have all my love, my heart and my soul, whether they should perish beneath the gates or nay. –Yours, Éomer.
Her heart clenched as the words came back to her. She had taken up a habit of walking through the city to the eastern tower of the city walls. From the tower, she could watch over the road east. No one had come through that way for days, but today she again ascended the stairwell.
The sky above the eastern horizon looked slightly less ominous today, the darkest clouds having dispersed during the night. Still, there were dark clouds looming in the horizon, but the pale pink dawn somehow encouraged her.
The sky had been so dark the past weeks, especially before the battle, that this new light seemed overly bright to her. She wondered if it meant that against all odds the army had managed to win.
oOo
It was in the beginning of the third week of April that Aefwyn finally received official news of the victory in Gondor. She summoned the Advisors of the King to the library, and spoke to them:
"My Lords, this morning a messenger came to me, bearing a letter from my lord husband. It is dated 12th of April month, and has been sent to me from Minas Tirith.
Here he tells you, that the Dark Lord Sauron has been defeated and destroyed and his Ring of Power has returned to whence it came. I shall not read to you his entire tale of Frodo, the Ringbearer, but if you wish you may peruse the page later.
He also bids you to know that the Age of Kings is returning in Gondor, that the Dúnadan Aragorn son of Arathorn shall be crowned king of Gondor in a week's time. After the coronation my lord husband is intent on returning to Edoras with the Lady Éowyn."
The councilmen regarded her silently. Despite their curiosity they loved her not, for they were sons of high lords of Rohan, and mighty lords in their own right. She was to them an upjumped scullion, despite the fact that her father was as much a lord of the realm as they were. And despite the fact that she was the mother of the heir apparent, now that her husband was king.
"Is there something you wish us to do, my lady?" One of the councilmen asked. He was younger than most of them, perhaps forty, and one that did not regard her with as obvious disdain as the rest.
"My lord husband tells me, that as they return they shall not yet bring with them the remains of Théoden King, but that the building of his tomb should be commenced. Also, a feast celebrating the memory of those who perished before the walls of Minas Tirith and the Black Gate should be organized to be held shortly after their return – that shall also act as my lord husband's coronation, as per his wishes - with a funeral feast to the King held after his body has been brought back to Edoras."
"A tomb and a feast. As you wish, my lady." The councilman nodded solemnly.
"You are dismissed until my lord returns. He shall wish to address you personally upon his arrival." The men filed out of the room, each giving her a small bow on their way out. She didn't bother to remark that as she was their future queen, their bows should have been significantly more reverent.
As the last of the men had left, she sighed and sat down with enjoyment. It would be a month yet before her time came, and her body felt unwieldy. Her ankles were swollen, and standing for any extended period of time made her feet ache.
Morwen came out from behind the King's table, and sat again at her feet.
"Why were you here, sweetheart?" Aefwyn asked her.
"I was here before you came with the Council and then I didn't want to leave when you were talking." Her daughter was holding a book in her small hands.
"I wanted something to read." Morwen had learned to read easily, and Aefwyn feared the library of Meduseld would be too small and rather boring for a girl her age. She would have to order some books from Gondor soon, especially now that the war had been won and Morwen would need to learn Westron at some point.
She smiled at her daughter and held out her hand for the girl.
"Perhaps a bite to eat, now that were finished here?" Morwen nodded, her serious gaze unreadable as always. In some ways Aefwyn knew her firstborn like the back of her hand, but in others the girl was a mystery to her. Éomer was closer to the girl, as they spent much time at the stables together when Éomer was at home.
"Why don't they like you?" Aefwyn glanced at the girl, surprised. And she had thought the men had been subtle in their dislike.
"They think I'm too low-born to have married your father." She saw no reason to hide it. Morwen would never be as lowly in their eyes as she was because of Éomer.
"But what about grandfather?"
"They mustn't remember him at all. He hasn't been here often since my mother passed. He has only once been to Aldburg, when Éomund was a baby."
"I remember that… I think." The girl looked up to her, a small smile on her lips. Aefwyn smiled back, unsure whether the memory was real or not.
oOo
She fidgeted. She had tried holding her hands still in her lap, but had failed miserably. Aefwyn had taken a seat next to the King's throne, on the right side. Her seat was smaller in every way than the magnificent carved behemoth to her side, but still the only chair with armrests wide enough for her to sit comfortably. The birth was nigh, she could feel the baby settling lower in her stomach. Not today, she prayed, for today was the day of Éomer's return.
She had taken her seat early, for she couldn't imagine walking to the gates and her chambers felt too tight and airless. She had been nervous of seeing her lord husband again, nervous of lady Éowyn returning, nervous of the councilmen who now looked at her with calculation in their eyes.
Marigold entered the hall from the opposite end and came to her. The girl was thin as a willow-wand, pretty as only a young girl was. Her golden hair was braided and the other end hung over the shoulder of her black dress. Even the servants were in deep mourning for their dead king, and the color suited her as ill as it did Aefwyn.
"My lady, they have entered the city." Aefwyn smiled and nodded.
"Do you wish to go outside?" The girl was prepared to haul her up and help her walk outside, but she was in no mood to rise.
"No, better I wait here. I feel like an overripe melon ready to burst." It was true. She had contractions every day now, still weak, but she thought if she would rise her water would break. Even though Éomer would be thrilled to welcome the baby, he wouldn't probably want her to give birth outside where everyone could see. The girl smiled and took her place behind her chair.
It did not take overly long for the yet-uncrowned king and his retinue to reach Meduseld. It did take long enough for Aefwyn to start feel sullen again, bound indoors with her big belly and surrounded by different levels of hostility.
Oddly, Odwyn had made herself scarce in Aefwyn's presence of late, likely out of fear of being put out of the manor should she displease the queen apparent. Aefwyn had toyed with the thought but didn't want to stoop to the head maid's level.
Aefwyn would have rather hoped that the councilmen would have made themselves as scarce as the head maid. She could feel the wheels turning in their heads, and she knew they bore no good will for her. They were planning something, she could feel it in her bones.
Before she could brood any longer, the doors were opened and her lord husband strode in, flanked by several high ranking Riders she recognized. There were several faces she had grown accustomed to seeing in her husband's presence who were missing, but nevertheless she could feel a smile forming on her face.
Éomer strode straight toward her, a smile brighter than the sun lighting his features. He kneeled at her feet, very unceremoniously, and kissed her hands, gripping them tightly.
"Against all odds, my dearest, I've come home." He stood up, taking in her form with a long glance that promised he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, and turned to his councilmen.
"Is everything prepared as per my wishes?" The men nodded, clearly more eager to please him than they'd ever been for her.
"Indeed, my liege, the building of King Théoden's mound has been begun, as you must have seen, and the feast is prepared for tomorrow night." The eldest councilman intoned, serious, a victorious look on his face for getting the chance to speak.
"I will speak with you after I've had a word with the council." Éomer whispered to her and she nodded, smiling up on him. He went with the men and there was Éowyn, smiling.
There was a new light upon her features, her eyes were bright and shining. Aefwyn could only wonder what had brought about this newfound happiness, but felt assured she would find out very soon.
"Éowyn!"
A/N: Admittedly a very weak cliffhanger (again), but seeing that my chapters are pretty few and far between (sorry about that) I really don't want to leave it with some major cliffie - not that I'd have one, to be honest.
Seeing that Aefwyn has been pretty brooding, I didn't think it a good idea to try and change the feel of the chapter too much by getting all happy and reunion-y all of the sudden. If you think I should have, feel free to review and tell me so...
And on another note, I'll be putting up a preview of a second fic idea I've been toying with on my profile later this week. If you're the least bit interested, check it out.