Chapter 3: Monarch

Ithílwyn relied heavily on advice by Mathilde and Éomer to guide her through the first few weeks of her new occupation as queen. Aethelwyn was a great comfort to her, though Mathilde did comment that Ithílwyn allowed her too great a freedom, and disrespected the new queen more often than she was aware. But Ithílwyn did not mind, and she allowed Aethelwyn to call her by her name, excepting formal events and when present in public places. That was when Mathilde would warn her soundly of her place and the etiquette expected of a lady-in-waiting.

Aethelwyn was a surprise addition to her retinue. It was at Mathilde's insistence that the queen have a lady-in-waiting, but she conifded in the matron that she did not favour any of the noble ladies who came to court. She suspected that they did not approve of her, and wished to supplant her position as queen. It was obvious in they manner with which they fawned over their king and supplied him with flattering words. Although Mathilde knew it was important for the queen to have allies in court, she knew that the queen spoke naught but the truth. Ithíl hesitated, and waited to appoint a lady-in-waiting, much to Mathilde's disappointment. To aid the process, she arranged for a luncheon in the queen's honour, and invited the eligible noblewomen to attend. The young queen had fretted about the food, and the furniture but no one had arrived.

"It is such a waste of food, Mathilde," the queen commented, and the matron could see that her eyes were glistening with tears. "Could you invite the servants to clear the room, and inform them that they are free to feast or pack food home for their families?" the queen spoke, her voice faltering. "Please take some as well, I heard Lord Scyld has a weakness for berry biscuits."

"Yes, I can see the evidence in his burgeoning waistline," she quipped, just to elicit a smile from the queen, but there was no allowance for humour. Usually it was the queen who would attempt to jest with the stern matron, but she sensed that this disaster was beginning to break the young woman's spirit. "My lady, forgive me," she said, bowing her head.

"Oh Mathilde, do not apologise, it is I whom they have rejected. You must not blame yourself, I am grateful for your assistance and your kind interest in aiding me, but I am afraid that the search for a lady-in-waiting might take longer than expected. I need to rest, excuse me," she muttered and exited swiftly. The matron shook her head, cursing the un-noblewomen for disrespecting not only their queen, but also their lord king. They had spited her with their absence, and Mathilde grew so furious that she pestered the queen no more. She was worried that she would be chastised, but she discovered that the queen had breathed no word of what happened to the king. Her allegiance was sealed, there was not one noblewoman in Edoras who could match the grace and gentleness embodied in this young woman.

Aethelwyn arrived at Meduseld on a rainy morning several weeks after that disastrous luncheon seeking for a lady named Ithílwyn. Although Mathilde did not recognise the name, the queen took her in and requested that some tea be brought to this stranger. The matron glanced over her, noting the fair face and crown of golden hair. This woman was young, perhaps as young as the queen, and her clothes hung over her gaunt frame.

"My lady, I am Aethelwyn, I have heard about you from my sisters, Aetheflaed and Aetheline. They remember you from Aldburg, where you showed much kindness towards them. I married a Rider from the Westmark, but he perished in the War. His mother is ailing, and I am loth to leave her to return to my family in the Eastfold. I plead that you show me the same kindness as you once did to my sisters and allow me to serve you. I can wash, and sew, anything you need." There was desperation in her eyes, but Mathilde respected that she was willing to work for her food. Ithíl smiled knowingly, glancing up at the matron.

"May I speak with Lady Mathilde for a moment, dear Aethelwyn. Please help yourself to some broth and bread," she said, signaling a maidservant for some food. She drew the matron to a quiet corner.

"No," Mathilde whispered vehemently.

"I trust her," the young queen replied.

"You have only been in her acquaintance for all of two minutes," the matron replied.

"I know her sisters, and her eyes do not lie."

"She is not a noblewoman," the matron reminded her.

"Neither am I, Mathilde, and the noblewomen I know have not been kind, present company excluded of course." The matron exhaled, her temples aching.

"We can start her as a lady's maid and observe how she fares. There is much work to be done if we are to present her as a noblewoman."

"Well, you have done marvellously with me," the queen chirped, elbowing the matron.

"That remains to be seen," the matron grumbled under her breath after the queen left her side to share the news with Aethelwyn.

While her duties were not yet cast in stone, she was kept busy. There was much to do in Edoras and Mathilde proved helpful in elucidating concerns that plagued the people. She spoke with several council members, consisting of lords as well as village chiefs and listened as they conveyed what their people needed. Many were homeless, and struggling to put food in their mouths. Women had lost husbands, sons, brothers and they were left to fend for themselves. Ithílwyn, with Mathilde's help opened the Edoras kitchens during midday, ensuring that those who were starving had at least a meal a day.

Through the midday meals, she discovered that there were many women with established trades but without occupations. In her presence were skilled smiths, bakers, woodcarvers, farmers, builders, carpenters, forlorn and without hope. One midday, just as the first arrivals had finished their stew and bread, she addressed them. "Good people, I have had the great honour of meeting you, and have a favour to ask of you." They looked up at her, confused.

"The king has requested that a nearby village be repaired, it is located along the Snowbourn and has fertile soil suitable for farming. There will be coin, and food provided for those who will pledge their aid. I know there are plenty among you who can lend your knowledge to help. We shall set out at morn two days from now. Are there any who will pledge their service?" An awkward silence filled the air, until two women rose and approached her.

"I am Burga, my lady, and this is Ealdrynel. We are builders and would gladly pledge our service to the king, and the promise of coin and food in exchange for honest work."

"Thank you, for your service," Ithílwyn replied, casting a grateful smile. After the two women had left, several more came to announce that they would join in service to their king. Several men came forth, they had been recuperating in the infirmary and put forth a suggestion to offer their strength to help the women. It was well approved by Ithílwyn, who had hoped that they would be taking the first steps to establishing a life after the war.

Two days later, Ithílwyn, accompanied by Mathilde, Aethelwyn and about twenty men and women travelled to the bank of the Snowbourn and began setting up camp. With them were building materials, plentiful food supplies and seeds ready for planting. Burga immediately took charge, as her father and his fathers before him were builders. She surveyed the land, noting that some buildings were still repairable while others had to be torn down and rebuilt. "My lady," she addressed, bowing respectfully as she briefed Ithílwyn on the current situation. Not long after, Wulfgar then came up to them and joined the discussion as they planned on the necessary actions to take and what additional supplies they would need. While the others busied themselves with setting up camp and cooking the midday meal, Burga, Ealdrynel and Wulfgard were surveying the land. Ithíl knew there was no need for her presence, but she desired to observe how they were planning to rebuild the village. The original foundations were still strong, but Burga disapproved of the layout of the houses and proposed a different arrangement. Ealdrynel took a large piece of parchment and began drawing as Burga and Wulfgar took counsel.

After the midday meal, Burga informed the new settlers about their plans. Several changes were made to Ealdrynel's map as the other skilled workmen contributed suggestions. As the bowls were cleared, Ithíl marvelled at the speed at which they had formed a cohesive group, and the light in their eyes.

In a matter of hours, the workforce had been segmented into their respective vocations. The farmers had begun sectioning off land for tilling and selecting crops to plant. Most of the lumber was already removed from the wagons. Ithílwyn soon joined the fray, tearing down planks from half-destroyed houses to be salvaged for further use. Mathilde joined the group of farmers as they cleared debris and weeds from long unused fields. Aethelwyn assisted in serving meat and bread to those working, also ensuring that a supply of clean water was available for those who were thirsty. Work had also begun on constructing a well to provide a source of drinkable water, and a complementary irrigation system based on a Gondorian book Ithílwyn had found in the library yesterday.

She was in the midst of deciphering how the irrigation system worked when Éomer entered their bedchamber. "You look confused," he remarked, chuckling at how adorable she looked with her brow furrowed. There was a stack of books by her side that had not been there the day before. "I have not seen hide nor hair of you all day. Where were you?"

"I may have used your name to start a rebuilding endeavour," she admitted sheepishly. Éomer look surprised, but not offended.

"Éomer, there are many who have lost their livelihoods, and the war has dealt such a heavy blow and they seem so hopeless. You mentioned something about rebuilding a village near the Snowbourn, as it was important to support the garrison nearby. Some wanted to aid in this effort, and it has been very good. Some of them have found friends amidst their loss in the span of a day, and much progress has already been made. We have already cordoned off land suitable for farming, and the builders have begun laying the foundation for a barn and a granary."

"This is wonderful news, forgive me, I should have provided more opportunity for you to help in the rebuilding efforts. It brings my heart joy that your plans have come to fruition. How may I help?"

"You are far too busy to even kiss me," she pouted, "and I did not expect to be so actively involved either, but there is a great need for labour and all must do their part. How are you feeling?" she asked, putting her book down to embrace her weary-looking husband.

He sighed. "Exhausted, I would sooner battle Orcs than have to sit through another day of council meetings." He slumped at the foot of the bed, chuckling to himself.

"My poor husband," Ithílwyn cooed, helping him remove his shirt. "Go wash up, I will make you some tea." She kissed him on the cheek, filling a small kettle with water and putting it to boil by the fire. When it had boiled, she put a few strange leaves in the kettle and took it off the hook, placing it on a table. Éomer meanwhile clambered into bed, approving of the pleasant smell wafting from the kettle. Ithílwyn poured a generous amount of tea and handed it to him before climbing into bed beside him. "This smells wonderful," he said before carefully sipping on the hot beverage. "What is in it?" he asked. "It is a secret," she whispered cheekily, "but the tea is supposed to help you sleep, and give you strength for tomorrow."

"Thank you," he replied, drinking more of the tea. Ithílwyn began combing his hair, helping to get him ready for bed. "Ahh," he let out a contented sigh after he finished his tea and sank his head into soft pillows. "Comfortable?" his wife whispered, putting her arms around him. "Very," he replied, and leaned over to kiss her.

As the days wore on, more men and women displaced from the war began to join in their rebuilding efforts. The fields were already tilled and farmers were beginning to sow their seeds. Ithílwyn, with the help of several injured Gondorian soldiers who had remained in Edoras since the Théoden's funeral, managed to figure out the irrigation system through many trials. The farmers were equally joyful to witness their plants being watered without their effort. A small shed had also been built to store farming tools, seeds and manure.

The main framework of the barn was in place and several cows were brought over from Edoras to live there. Pens for sheep and pigs were nearly complete and a few houses were ready to be inhabited. Burga had taken up residence with four others in one of the repaired homes and about eleven other individuals had moved their personal possessions and taken up residence in the other rebuilt houses. To Ithílwyn's delight, they had made a space in the middle of the houses where the new villagers met and shared their evening meals, beside the much needed companionship. The once forsaken village was now coming to life again, with new inhabitants who were ready to embrace the new possibilities life had to offer.

When she returned to Edoras later that evening, she found Éomer dressed in full armour consulting with Erkenbrand, West Marshal of the Riddermark. "My lady," the older man bowed before her as she approached. "Good evening, Lord Erkenbrand. What has happened?" she questioned.

"King Aragorn has issued the Red Arrow; Mundburg has need of its allies. Lord Erkenbrand has been appointed to the office of Underking until my return," he explained, noticing how distressed Ithílwyn appeared at the news. "It is in fulfilment to the Oath of Eorl in the days when we were a people without land. Erkenbrand, I trust you will manage the affairs of the Mark well in my stead. Now, I must see to my queen." The West Marshal bowed and dismissed himself. "The evening meal is ready, and I have requested to dine with you within the privacy of our chambers," he whispered, taking her arm and leading her away from the hall. "You leave so soon," she remarked, fear filling her heart.

"You have nothing to fear, dear one, do not worry so. I promise to return to you, as I am now. Have I not survived leading my men as East Marshal defending this land from Orcs, rode to aid Gondor in battle at Pelennor Fields and aid King Aragorn in defeating the Great Eye in accursed Mordor? I will return, do not fret, now can you muster enough courage for one meal with me? Besides, I would like another cup of that tea you made last night." "Oh Éomer," she cried, holding him close, despising how cowardly she was. "Come here," he cooed, lifting her up and entering their chambers, kicking the door shut with his left leg. He put her down and bolted the door. "I regret that I have to leave so soon, but this is a duty I do not begrudge the King Aragorn, a dear and much admired friend. I ride to a battle of lesser enemies, but we need to secure the safety of the inhabitants of Gondor and the borders of the Mark. Now, I do not know how long I shall be apart from you, so I propose that we use what remaining hours we have to compensate for the time where we are cleaved from one another," he murmured, fastening his arms around her waist leaving no space between them. She kissed him desperately, her hands gripping on to his shoulders as she clung on to his frame, wanting to lose herself in his grasp.

Dinner was cold when they ate, and Ithíl was tired from her rebuilding efforts despite her eagerness to remain awake for Éomer's sake. "If I had known how eager you were for marital passions, dear wife," he chuckled and nuzzled her neck, "then I should leave more often." He watched her fight the urge to sleep and brushed silky locks of dark hair from her fair face.

"You must not jest like that," she mumbled sleepily, smacking him weakly on the chest. "I miss you already," she pouted and yawned.

"Go to sleep," he murmured, placing kisses on her neck. He felt her curl against him and smiled, rubbing her back and inhaling her sweet scent, not regretting that he had spilled half a bottle of scented oils into the tub when his wife had mounted him. "I love you," he whispered countlessly, holding her in his arms as she slept, tracing the contours of her face and the worried lines that had formed. He knew he hardly demonstrated how much he appreciated that she was willing to take up the burden of queenship for his sake, and he knew that despite the chilly reception she received at court, she did not spare any effort to serve the people of Rohan. He glanced loveingly at his queen, feeling an overwhelming surge of affection for her and pressed his cheek to the top of her head as tears rolled down his eyes.

"You will write to me?" he asked the next morning, kissing her deeply, ignoring the howling and whistling of his men. She nodded, pressing him closer as he leaned in to kiss her again. Beside them, Erkenbrand cleared his throat and Éomer broke the kiss, leaving Ithílwyn gasping for air. She watched with dread in her heart as he mounted his horse with practised ease. With one final wink in her direction, he turned his horse and commanded his men to war. The heralds blew the trumpets and they began their march, the beating hoofs against the green plains stirring the quick beating in his heart. How had he missed the wide plains, and the rushing of the wind as he rode hard, the banner of Eorl flowing before him.

Ithílwyn occupied herself with as much as she could, in an effort to reduce thoughts of Éomer dying on the battlefield. She knew it was nonsense, and he would be as hale as when he had departed. But the thought of one stray arrow that found its way between the gaps in his armour and... or a deadly infection caused by an unnoticed wound. "Stop it," she chastised herself, standing up and heading to the library. She knew there was much to do, yet she felt so restless that she found little energy to put her plans into action because her constant worrying had left her with little strength. There was some comfort in writing unnecessarily long letters to her husband that contained more nonsense than ought to be, and Ithílwyn soon found herself embroiled in another complicated situation.

It had been raised by several villagers and brought to the attention of Erkenbrand, who requested to share the evening meal with her. "Lord Éomer spoke of your contributions to the restoration of the village. Perhaps you may help with this issue." He then spoke about a number of orphans throughout the Mark who had no homes, nor parents to look after them. They had to survive by begging for food around homes, or resort to stealing whatever they could.

"But where do they sleep?" she asked.

"On the plains, or outside of garrisons, by the fires. Reports have arrived stating that several dead bodies of children have been discovered."Ithílwyn felt sick and pushed her plate away. "Forgive me, my lady, I did not mean to upset you," the West Marshal said.

"Do not apologise, I am glad to have heard about this plight, but what shall we do?"

"That is why I have broached the issue with you, my lady. I lack the sensitivity when it concerns matters that are not about war."

She paused to think for a moment. "Well, we have plenty of room in Edoras. Most of the barracks have been emptied. And is it foolish to speculate that some of these children are perhaps displaced from their parents?"

"Yes, I assume so, my lady."

"Then they shall have at least a bed to sleep in and a roof over their heads while they remain at Edoras. At least they will be safe and fed while we figure out how we can best help them."

The next day, she found Mathilde and sought her opinions regarding the matter. The matron was confounded, but alluded with her decision to keep the orphans alive for the moment, and hope that most of their parents claim them and bring them back home, if they were alive.

"What about the other children?" she asked, hoping that Mathilde would have a wise solution that would resolve the problem.

"Well, my lady, we shall have to be clever and quick about it."

They did not have much time to dwell on the matter, for Ithílwyn went to visit the village's new inhabitants after breakfast, utterly amazed at the transformation. More people had come to live in the newly thatched and repaired houses, and there were animals baying, bleating, neighing and clucking amongst the friendly chatter and saucy gossip. The village had been brought to life. She visited Burga, who was still living with Ealdrynel, but there were two Gondorian soldiers which had also apparently joined their household.

"Yes, they desired to stay,"said Burga sheepishly, her cheeks flushed.

"Is that all they desired?" Mathilde questioned, flustering the builder.

"How wonderful," Ithílwyn gushed, clasping her hands, peering inquisitively at Ealdrynel, who was in the midst of whispering with her lover. Burga cleared her throat and began to explain all that had happened while she was away, showing her around the village.

"Frankly, my lady, I am truly happy with this opportunity but there is a neighbouring village and it has seen better days. I do not wish to appear ungrateful, but..." she paused and stared at a dark-haired man, "my new husband and I would like, with a number of the friends we have made, to rebuild that village also."

"Burga, I am so pleased! That is excellent news, would you be in need of supplies?" she asked. The lady nodded, beginning to list down her plans for the rebuilding work to be done. Mathilde turned to Aethelwyn and shook her head as she watched the builder put a friendly arm around the queen's shoulders.

"She has yet to tell them she is queen, they should not be treating her as such," she said in a hushed tone.

"It is not their fault, sometimes even I forget who she is, more like a friend she seems to me," said Aethelwyn, smiling fondly at the disappearing silhouette of the queen.

Missives were soon sent out to all village chieftains to send orphans in need of shelter and food to Edoras although it would take some time before they reached. In the meantime, Ithílwyn was busy seeing to preparations for their arrival. Mathilde assured her that there would be enough food, and insisted that the queen leave the arrangements of bedding, clothing and food to her. With time to spare, Ithílwyn began reading on agricultural tomes, and wondered if such knowledge would be useful to the new farmers.

She knew Burga had planned to weather the winter with Ealdrynel and several others but would depart in the spring to start work on the neighbouring village. Several other couples had formed and were married in Meduseld in the span of several weeks, meaning that Erkenbrand was busy indeed. It was around four weeks since Éomer had left for Mundburg that the Ithílwyn caught the advisors casting strange looks in her direction. Every day, as she walked about Edoras, they looked at her in that peculiar manner, as if they expected something from her and were disappointed. It made her feel dreadful, and she began to grow nervous. She lost her appetite, and suffered persistent nightmares, often waking up in cold sweat.

One night, as Mathilde informed her that the first wagon transporting displaced orphans to Meduseld was expected to arrive in the morning, the matron noticed that the queen was looking sickly.

"My lady, are you alright?"

"Yes, Mathilde, I am..." she paused, and tried to wipe away tears. "I miss Éomer, I mean Éomer King. I cannot lose this notion that I am guilty of some unknown wrong. The members of the council keep directing these glances at me."

"Oh," Mathilde said after a short pause. "My lady, from what I know about my husband, and the rest of the advisors, they have been especially anxious because of the king's long absence. Éomer King is the first of his line, and although it is too soon to expect so, they hope that you are with child and will provide him with an heir quickly."

Ithílwyn's face turned ashen, her grief-stricken expression prompting Mathilde to fear that she had misspoke. "No, I am not with child. I bled two weeks ago," she said quietly, and walked away.

"My lady, forgive me," Mathilde called out.

"No, Mathilde, you were not at fault. Thank you, for your insight. I am glad to learn more about what is expected of me, as the queen. If I may ask a favour, will you keep this information from your husband, I would prefer if they come to realise that I cannot yet fulfil their hopes with time." Mathilde nodded, and the queen attempted to smile, but there was still sorrow reflected in her eyes.

Éomer returned a few days later, much to her relief. He had sent word of the successful military conquest, and explained that if not for the series of skirmishes he had to participate in, he would have returned with all haste. Despite the advancement of Erkenbrand and several advisors, he ignored them and rushed toward her at first sight and lifted her in the air. Amidst their calling for his attention to matters of the state, he kissed her and spirited her to their chambers, tossing her on the bed unceremoniously and bolting the door before launching himself on top of her.

"How I have missed you," he moaned, grabbing fistfuls of her hair and inhaling her sweet scent. She laughed, glad at his eagerness and reciprocated by undoing the latches of his armour. He kissed her, and his hands roamed hungrily over her body, touching and caressing every inch of skin. Unable to remove his armour, she groaned impatiently and targeted his trousers instead. Amused at her apparent grudge against his trouser ties, he laughed. "If I am not mistaken, I think you are happy to see me as well," he chuckled and kissed her deeply, leaving her gasping for air. She yanked his trousers off and started pulling up her dress. Éomer cursed under his breath, biting his lower lip as he viewed her half naked body, writhing with need.

"Look how excited you are," she murmured, smirking at him as she took his length in her hand, gently stroking his erect cock, throbbing as it lay on her stomach. He grunted, glad for her touch but was painfully aware that he wanted more. "Later," he croaked, "I cannot wait," he admitted. "I know," she replied, smiling as she guided him inside her. She gasped, her arms wrapped tightly around his frame as he filled her depths with one desperate thrust of his hips.

"Oh Éomer," she sighed and pushed herself upwards to kiss him. He laughed, and she laughed along, happy to be reunited. "I missed you so much," she whispered, stroking the side of his face as her eyes filled with tears. Her husband wiped her wet cheeks and smiled down at her. "Do not be sad," he said tenderly, brushing stray wisps of dark hair behind one ear.

"No, I am so happy. You are here, with me, actually, inside me..." she paused and smiled saucily at him. "Béma, what a naughty mouth. I think it needs to be punished," he said, clicking his teeth disapprovingly. Before she could question her punishment, he kissed her hard on the lips and bucked his hips forward. She let out a small moan as he made circling motions around her folds with his thumb. "Ithílwyn, I have been dreaming about this for a long, long time," he whispered, nibbling her ear. She nodded her head in mutual understanding. "So, I will not stop for a long, long time either," he added in a husky voice. "Yes, please," she replied, surrendering to his masterful ministrations, sinking into the bed with a contented sigh.