Chapter 1: Mildred
Éomer observed Ithílwyn, sitting between him and his sister, twisting her fingers. Her eyes were looking downwards and he could hear her heart beating wildly. Her anxiety was caused mainly by this meeting of his advisors and to announce that he had a wife, and to plan her coronation as Queen of the Mark. He could not describe his joy to know that she would be by his side, to share in his joys and to weather the storms of suffering together. But now, as he beheld her, he deeply longed to hold her and fight on her behalf but he knew she had to defend herself in front of the council as they needed to support her claim to queenship. He understood how nervewracking this must be for his wife, who was clearly intimidated by what would soon take place.
She was certain of the council would react unpleasantly to this news, and Éomer was doubtless that she would be right, it was an unsuitable match on the surface, if one considered frivolous characteristics such as stature, breeding and family lineage important. To him, they all paled in comparison to his wife, who was above such criteria and he knew he would need to convince the convening council what he already knew. Besides a convincing argument, he would also need a level head with him, which he wasn't sure he would possess once they start interrogating Ithílwyn, which would doubtlessly take place. Thus explaining his sister's presence. Her fiancé, the newly appointed Steward of Gondor was with them, but Éomer was worried that they, a suitable match in terms of said frivolous characteristics, would undermine their argument for a love match between the king and a peasant.
As the last person took his seat at the large wooden table in the wooden hall of Edoras, Éomer cleared his throat. "I have not disclosed the reason for calling a meeting this morning, but it is of great importance. I would like to introduce you to my wife," he said proudly, looking over at Ithílwyn. She looked up from the large table (where the council had been convening since the days of Eorl) to observe the disappointed glances of the important men providing advice to the king, and then to her husband, who gazed at her with such adoration and pride that she felt she could be strong enough to face this hostile crowd. That strength soon faltered and Éomer sensed her shoulders stooping with dejection. "My Lord," Ealdriht spoke in a dignified manner, only used when about to refute the king. "It has been three months since the death of Theoden Ednew and the end of the Great War and you have not thought it suitable to mention this crucial detail?"
"It was my fault," Ithílwyn spoke, but in a quiet, almost guilty voice. "I did not know if I wanted to be queen, and I must confess that I am not sure I want it, but I do not wish to part with Éomer."
"Éomer king," another man corrected her as he stood up and cleared his throat, looking at Ithílwyn with subtly deprecating eyes. "I allowed her to address me by my name, Heahset. She is my wife," Éomer said, clenching his fist tightly.
Another man sighed as the one who stood up bowed respectfully to the king. "Are we not your counselors, selected upon your wisdom to give you advice?" he questioned.
"I know in my heart that I will have no other. Perhaps it is a selfish desire, for I love her and cannot pretend to consider another as queen. You have heard her say it, my wife does not want to be queen. She is only acquiescing to my wishes for she loves me, although I do not deserve her. She has taught me to love, to want to pledge my troth and raise a family when before I knew not how to desire such things. If it were not for her, I might stay unmarried for the rest of my life, but now I am in love and have found a woman so wonderful that even the burden of kingship cannot take my joy away." Several men exchanged befuddled looks between themselves at this statement.
"My Lord Éomer, it is apparent to all that you hold much affection for this young woman and the council does not begrudge your feelings. However, it cannot be denied that she is not the most suitable candidate for a wife nor queen. And you, my lord, know better than to place love, or affection, no matter your convictions, above duty. It also stands, my lord, that your marriage should serve as an opportunity to secure political ties with other countries. You know the advantages of entering into such a political union, rebuilding after the war will need a great supply of resources. My lord, you have witnessed the burning of our villages, the destruction of our borders and farmlands. We need the aid of other countries, especially Mundburg and its allies to help." He paused and stared at his king intently before continuing. "Entering into a union with the Princess of Dol Amroth, for instance, will provide a union by marriage, symbolising the peaceful ties between the Mark and Mundburg. And once children are born unto you through such a union, blood ties will also be formed."
"I do not doubt that, my good advisors. It sounds as if my marriage is but a bargain to benefit the Mark disguised as duty. But I do not doubt that my dear friends, King Aragorn and Prince Imrahil would not begrudge me of their assistance should I request for it. Besides, they will have need of their own supplies. Repairing the Mark after such devastation will extend beyond my lifetime, although we would all gladly see the glory of the Mark return sooner."
"Young lady, tell us more about yourself," another advisor spoke. Ithílwyn looked at him with large, terrified eyes. Her husband reached out to give her hand a comforting squeeze underneath the table.
"My name is Mildred, daughter of Aedgar. I apologise for I am aware that I am causing an unfortunate ordeal. Éomer and- Lord Éomer and I were married before he left for battle at the Pelennor Fields. I hesitated to go to him, when he returned to the Mark after the Great War, choosing to deliberate on the good, but mostly the misfortune I may bring him through our union. Even when he was crowned king shortly after Théoden King's funeral, I hesitated to meet him. Our marriage certificate was in my possession, and I was informed that it was my right to declare myself queen, but I did not think it wise. Your advice is sound and I have tried to persuade the king to betroth himself to a lady worthy of him, but he will not listen. Truthfully, I am loth to leave him. I love him, but I would not remain if it would be detrimental to the rebuilding of the Mark." Éomer glared at her in silent anger but she avoided his gaze.
At this juncture, Éowyn interjected. "I have witnessed my brother and... Mildred, and she is a good influence on him, she is able to challenge his stubborn ways in which none of you could. She will make a good queen, as I have witnessed her wisdom and kindness during the war. My brother will undoubtedly discover ruling a country a heavy burden on the mind and the heart. He will need support, and I believe Mildred will accomplish such a role to perfection." Both her brother and his wife stared at her in surprise, for being in love had caused her tongue to drip with honey. Faramir smiled at her, displaying his support for her.
Eowyn's words seemed to have swayed the hearts of the advisors to the king's cause. It was no wonder, she had their respect as the slayer of the Witch King of Angmar, accomplishing such a deed that no man could do with all his strength.
"I believe we shall need to talk with your intended, alone, Éomer King. She is yet a stranger, and we know nothing about her family or her past."
"Is it not enough that I know everything, and that I trust her with my life? This is preposterous! Even as king of the Mark I have to be told who I can or cannot marry?"
"Yes, you are the king, but it is never enough for you to trust someone of your own accord. We would not like a repeat of past experiences, my lord. You only saw how disastrous and how weakened Rohan was with just one corrupt advisor."
"How dare you compare my wife to that slimy, filthy-"
"Éomer, stop. They are wary of strangers, as they have a right to be. I will speak with the council alone," Ithílwyn said, her mouth spread into a grim line on her face.
Éomer sighed wearily. "Not now, it is time for the midday meal. We shall adjourn tomorrow morning."
He stared at her, trying to decipher her expression. "You look as if you have not made a decision," he stated, watching as she chewed on her lower lip. "I need your support. If you insist that you are not the right woman for me to marry, then they will not hesitate to declare you unworthy and cast you out of Edoras."
"But I am not confident. Éomer and when they talk to me, I will be obligated to inform them that I am of Dunland blood, and that I am barren. Would you wish that kind of queen to have by your side? Consider the shame you will have to endure."
"You are not telling them either of these things. They only wish to know your intentions, and that you are not a witch, wishing to manipulate me."
"I love you, Éomer, but-"
"That is enough, as I only need to know that you love me to trust that you will make a wonderful queen." he cupped her cheek, pulling her close to him. Please, I beg of you, do not deny me this for one lifetime. You do not know how much I regret not marrying you sooner, the moment you stepped into Aldburg, nay the moment I laid eyes upon you bathing in the stream, I should have put a ring on your finger and bedded you as my wife. If you leave now, it will be for good. We will never be together. And I cannot bear it, Ithil, please do not leave me," he pleaded, his eyes baring deep desperation as he kissed the back of her hand.
"Oh Éomer, I want you, but I cannot lie to the advisors. Besides, it is inevitable that the truth will be revealed one day. And if I bring you shame, I could not live with myself. Perhaps it is wiser to marry another fairer lady more suitable, for the good of the Mark."
Exasperated, Éomer sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Ithil, if I had little affection for you, I would gladly marry a stranger to fulfill my duty as king, but I cannot because I love you, and will do so until my last breath. If you leave, so will I." She let out a horrified gasp but he nodded with firm resolution. "Surely, we will be together, either as a peasant and his wife, or as king and queen. You may cease loving me, but I cannot. And if you cannot bear any children, then I shall have no heirs of my flesh, for it was my negligence that caused you this pain. Let me honour my pledge Ithil, let me serve you for the rest of my life, let me suffer this glad punishment, to love and comfort you in all your days." He pulled her into his embrace and kissed her tenderly, pressing her body close to him. "That is the choice before you Ithil, and you must decide your future and mine. Even if you do not wish it, your fate is now tied to the future of the Mark."
"Éowyn", she asked, when they were in her room dressing for the evening meal. "Do you consider me selfish for wanting to be with Éomer when I am of lowly birth?" The decision weighed heavily on her mind, perhaps even more so as the time came for her to put forth her choice and accept the consequences of her decision.
"No, you have sacrificed much to love him and you have taught him to love. Even now, you consider naught but of him, and what would be best for my brother. I wonder sometimes if you can be selfish, dear Ithil." Eowyn paused as she put on a gold belt and checked her reflection. She turned to look at Ithílwyn chewing on her lip, dressed in a pale green dress she recognised as one of her older dresses she wore at the age of fifteen. "Do you love my brother?" she asked, gripping her by the shoulders. Ithílwyn nodded earnestly. "And do you want to be by his side, until your death or his?" Again she nodded without hesitation. "Then fight for him, and fight for yourself. You of all people should understand that love must triumph after the darkness that we have endured."
"I want to hold you," he murmured, his breath caressing her soft skin. He had sneaked into her bedroom, annoyed that they were separated though according to the law of his land, they were one in heart and soul and indignant about them sleeping in the same bed as husband and wife.
"I love you," he whispered reverently against her skin as he trailed kisses from the tip of her nose to the underside of her breast.
"Do you think it is enough?" She questioned no one in particular, looking up at the wooden beams.
"You know I don't care if you have four legs and six arms or fins, I will love you and I will demand that you are my queen."
She smiled, "That depends will a six-armed, four-legged Ithílwyn be able to bear children?"
He breathed through his nose and held her closer.
"You do not know the extent of your barrenness. Aragorn is a healer like none that I have witnessed, he has the blood of ancient Westernesse and he cured my sister from the Black Breath after her encounter with the Witch King and his foul dwimmerlaik. Surely, he will be able to help you, besides, there are treatments in the south that you have not heard of. We can have children of our own, it is a hope that we cannot relinquish so soon."
"But it is not certain," she whispered quietly, her features worn with sorrow.
"Nothing is certain, my love, but we must have faith in each other. We have overcome much, and undoubtedly, we will continue to challenge obstacles in our way and prevail. Besides," he flashed her a mischievous smile, "I suspect Éowyn and her betrothed will have children soon, they do not seem capable of being in the same room and being physically separate. Their children can be my heirs just as I am my uncle's heir. Do not fret Ithílwyn, or I will begin to think that you are thinking of excuses to flee from me."
"I do not wish to flee from you, not now when we are married. But Éomer, I am terrified of bringing you shame."
"I know, and I have to confess I worry that I will disappoint you as well. Do you know how much I am indebted to you for all the shame I have brought upon you? If we had married, you would not have been in the stables alone and attacked. We would have had a son, a healthy baby of our own and you would not despise yourself for being barren. You would not have been enslaved to my aunt, or have to run away from Aldburg because you carried a bastard child. Oh Ithílwyn," he groaned, burying his head in her shoulder and startling his wife by weeping.
She was surprised to find herself crying too, as she stroked his back while he wept. "Please, do not leave," he begged, choking back sobs. "I will fight to keep you, but if you do not want this, then I have no choice. Whatever you decide, I do not want you to give up on us."
"I'll try," she whispered.
"I promise not to stay for longer," Éomer insisted as the council convened in the morning, "but I will declare my intentions before taking my leave. You see before you evidence that this marriage was approved and authorised by the king before his passing, it bears the mark of his seal and his signature. There is no doubt about the authenticity of the marriage document. And should Ithílwyn be declared unworthy of being my queen, I shall abdicate from the throne." His advisors let out a synchronised gasp of horror.
Exclamations of "My Lord!" and "Éomer King!" spluttered around the hall amidst the sound of the crackling fire. While her husband had mentioned this, Ithílwyn had not expected him to announce it to his advisors. She looked as flabbergasted as the unbelieving men in the hall.
He left the hall with a light heart before remembering that Ithílwyn was in the hall with a pack of suspicious old men waiting to pounce on her every mistake. Turning around, a man stood and questioned him "My lord, we do not approve of your threatening us. Do you mean to carry out what you have suggested?" "Yes," the king replied immediately. Ithílwyn frowned at him.
"Well, given the circumstances, it seems that we have little say," a stout man with wise eyes named Clanheort spoke. "We do not find any malice or witchcraft in her and her affection for you appears sincere. Though she may not have the desired breeding nor hail from a powerful or wealthy family, we do not see a reason to deter you from marrying her."
Both Ithílwyn and Éomer as well as the rest of the council turned to stare at him. "However, I would advise against this union. Dear daughter, it is cause for heartbreak to love a man whose life belongs to his people. The court of the king is not all peaceful. We are pressed for supplies, peace and restoration. It is a difficult time for Lord Éomer to have inherited kingship. There is turmoil, and unrest in the land and it is a great undertaking to return glory to the Mark. I only bid that you consider your abilities, for the Queen of the Mark must hold her own court with dignity, power and grace."
Before Ithílwyn could say a word, Ealdriht stood up and with respect, he gestured for Éomer to leave the hall. Though he hesitated, he was bound by his word, and reluctantly trudged with heavy steps out the Golden Hall. Once he left, the discussion continued.
"I do not mean to undermine your worth, Lady Mildred but I do not wish you to live a life where you grow to resent your husband, and your life. I perceive that you know of which I am speaking of, for I sense in your heart there remain seeds of doubt. This I find greatly comforting, for I would be concerned should you have insisted on being queen without the foreknowing and wisdom to predict what your future will entail," spoke Clanheort, smiling at her sympathetically.
"Tis true," echoed Scyld, another lord whom Ithílwyn was not introduced to and had not heard a single word from spoke. "Éomer king has spoken of your courage and valour, of which we do not doubt. Alas, if the future of the Mark were not so precariously balanced, we would not pose such a stern opposition to our king's wishes. For you see, dear one, it is a great responsibility to bear; bringing peace to a country torn by conflict and war, and to bring healing to the grieving people of the Mark. It is too great a feat for our king, and it would be more suitable for a queen with royal connections, with influence over other dignitaries and in possession of the power to benefit our people, of which you cannot claim. As queen, you will be required to attend many noble ceremonies and represent the Mark. I do not mean to disparage you, my dear, for we are all delighted to see our king in love; however, this will be your life to come and it may be a burden too heavy to bear."
At length, Ithílwyn spoke again, her voice calm. "I appreciate your honesty, my lords," she said and bowed to them, "and I dread with all my heart the burdens to come, the great undertaking to rebuild this country. I married Éomer in a tent on the eve of war, realising that I loved him and could not hope for his return. I knew and understood that he was heir to the king, but in the face of death it was clear that I was but a woman and he a man whom I loved. We proclaimed solemn vows when we were wed, and I swore to bear his burdens as he should protect and care for me. As a woman of the Mark, I do not intend to break my promise, not to my lord king. I realise that I am not the preferred woman, but I am willing to learn and act the queen the Mark deserves, all I ask is for your assistance in this matter. Are you willing to help me, my lords?"
She looked around the hall, proud that she spoke with some measure of authority. And indeed, Éomer's lords were left bewildered at her words, so passive she had been the day before. Suddenly Scyld stood up and nodded with a grim line. "My honoured lords, I admit that this lady's bravery and her commitment to her pledge is worthy of respect. And I willingly support her as my queen, what say ye?"
Most of the lords responded with "Aye", but only by a slight margin. Though Ithílwyn noticed that less than half of them still eyed her with uncertainty, but in this, she could not blame them.
Thus far, Éomer had tried to eavesdrop, feign indifference to the outcome of the discussion that would determine his life, debate what he thought Ithílwyn might say, ponder on the possibility of Ithílwyn winning a fight against all the men in his council and pacing back and forth. A maidservant came by to inform him that luncheon was prepared but he was far too anxious for food.
At long last and to his great relief, the doors opened and the members of his council filed out, all with inscrutable faces. Last to appear was his wife, smiling shyly at him. Clanheort stood behind her and cried out, "My king and my lords, I am honoured to declare that we will support the Lady Mildred, Queen of the Mark as she stands by the side of Éomer King. Long may they reign!"
He went to her and clasped her hand, beaming at her with pride. "You did it," he whispered, unable to contain his joy as the lords gathered around them and paid allegiance, chorusing in one voice, "Long may they reign!"
A/N: Hello! So this is meant to be the what if. When this story was first conceived, I did not know that the characters of Éomer and Ithílwyn would take on a life of their own. It also occurred to me that it simply wasn't fair that she had sacrificed so much and still missed out on the man she loved. So this is their non-canonical chance at finding love against all odds. Stay tuned, and stay reading!