Chapter 50- Worries

Eldarion couldn't sleep, too many things plagued his mind, the least prevalent was not the girl in his arms, her head smuggled into the crook of his neck deep in dreams. Naeva was always on his mind, he couldn't go through a day without thinking about her or seeing her.

Or ambushing her in a dark corner and all but ripping her clothes off.

He was the King of Men, the heir of Telcontar, Elessar's son, but he was a slave to his love for this servant girl. Eldarion glanced to his bureau and his eyes glazed over, inside was a white and silver crown with wings designs etched into the circlet's smooth surface. On his finger was his father's ring. The ring given to Eldarion's mother when Aragorn proposed to her. The ring that Eldarion desperately wanted to give Naeva.

He wasn't getting younger, he needed a wife, an heir, he *wanted* Naeva and any child she'd bear him.

Under normal circumstances he probably would be planning his wedding at this moment but he'd scarcely had time to dream about his beloved before he had to help his sister again.

Leyadriel had never been an easy younger sister to have, constantly throughout her childhood she was awoken drenched in her own blood and all the attention that had been given to her siblings was immediately transferred to her. Even when Eldarion was sick, Leyadriel's wounds took priority. And she was always arrogant, not enough so to be poor company but it was the air of the Eldar that clung to her. She was elvish, and she'd always known that without being conscious of it. That was something Eldarion had always noticed about his elvish kin, they walked with their noses raised, their heads higher then perhaps they should be.

He loved his sister dearly, and he always forgave her snobbery when he had suffered it, and he understood that she was tormented by her curse, that it was crucial to heal her wounds right away.

But even so, Leyadriel was becoming a nuisance to her brother. She lived in his palace, making Minas Tirith double as the Gondorian and Elvish capitals. The elves that had moved here to stay near their queen were not having a positive effect on the Gondorian economy, all the mortals strove to buy their products but the elves seldom returned the favor. Therefore a lot of Gondorian currency went to the elves, but they didn't give any back, preferring to trade it with the Dwarves or their elvish kindred in Ithilien.

And this was his home. Not that it wasn't also his sister's but this was where he was supposed to raise his family, to marry and care for his children. Leyadriel's current condition made him realize more and more acutely that there was not enough room for her family and his to share the palace. He did not want to evict his little sister, especially after all the trauma of her recent days but he could not abide her to stay forever.

Also, her decisions had been taxing his patience and reserve of late. First she flees after Legolas when he left her, returning half dead in body and mind. Her recklessness nearly killed her, nearly stole his sister from him so soon after loosing both of his parents...he wouldn't have been able to cope with her loss, he knew. After that, she frees Lord Pengwaith from his cell, claiming him a changed man, claiming that he'd not hurt her again.

Eldarion had not trusted Pengwaith since he was been a small child holding Leyadriel's hand at formal dinners and bringing her flowers and then throwing a royal fit when she didn't agree with everything he said. His abuse of her was one thing and he hated the man for it, but he hated his sister more for defending her lover's actions. So much more.

And after she had finally put him in his proper place, awaiting trial in a small barred enclosure, her heart softens to him yet again and she releases him, accepts him. Accepted him far too well, and now she bore the consequences.

Even he, just a mortal looking in at elvish life, knew that elvish hearts claimed but one other, that to refuse that claim could have deadly consequences. And still his sister was so sure that she was above those consequences.

And now she would bear one.

Leyadriel's announcement that she was pregnant had shattered most of the calm left in his life. He went along with his sister's plot to cover up her fall from grace, though he knew she'd long since lost her virtue she had never been soiled in his mind until she announced his nephew or niece to him. That was the moment, the first true time, that he had ever thought his sister whore-ish. She leapt into Pengwaith's bed so young, so naïve to life's treacherous whips and then she shared the Mirkwood Prince's. He knew this, for she had confided in him, how greatly she missed her Lord, how much she wished him return, how Pengwaith's hands would ever be cold, clammy, and clumsy besides Legolas'. An over-share on her part, he thought.

Then she went to Pengwaith's bed again, and now she was heavy with child. Just a few more months and she would be holding her shame in her arms, would be looking after its wellbeing for the rest of its life.

He, at least, would never be able to look at his nephew without remembering the state of its conception. The slut's escape from pain that Leyadriel had chosen.

But then again, he thought silently, I am no better.

He gazed at Naeva, still young to be as learned as she was in bed, and her virtue belonged to him, he had taught her everything. She was his escape, his freedom, the one thing that Leyadriel's burdens hadn't completely intruded on.

But it wasn't just Leyadriel, he conceded. Galaniel had joined the Rangers, proudly flaunting her father's blood with her skill. Celebrene journeyed with Prince Imrahil's daughter to Rohan, for both sought the hand of Eomer, and Silmarwen was courting as well, many Gondorian men sought her favor.

Between his sisters and his love, he scarcely had time to be worried. And yet he was.

What if something ill happened to them? What if Galaniel fell? What if Celebrene's friend won Eomer's heart and she did not? What if Silmarwen's match was as poor as Leyadriel's first one had been?

What if Leyadriel miscarried?

Though, an evil thought crept into his mind, it would almost be more fair to Leyadriel if she did loose the child, then at least she would not have to suffer the knowledge that it was Pengwaith's son for the rest of eternity.

What if Naeva left him? His heart sank, what if she got pregnant?

Simple enough, he'd marry her. He'd rather her be shamed then her leave him. He wouldn't be able to bear it if she left him. She was the only thing that kept him sane.

And he wanted to keep his sanity.

Thinking that it was time he stopped procrastinating, he gently slipped the Telcontar crest onto her slender finger.

He heaved a great sigh, one less worry.

A/N- I know I;m a horrible horrible author, when was the last time I updated? Sorry girls! I've got a new love: Underworld. If you haven't seen this movie (and fallen head over heels for Lucian's story) then ...your just not cool, lol. PLEASE REVIEW! Please please please please. I promise I'll attempt to update quicker.