A/N: This is an AU (alternate universe) fic. The only difference you need to know really is that Arathorn is the King of Gondor as his family reclaimed the throne three generations ago. There are other differences but I think the rest will be revealed within the fic itself. Although if you have any questions ask. My email is TrinityHope8587@aol.com or you can ask through a review and I'll answer them in the next post.
Also this is my first shot at a serious LotR fic but I would still recommend reading my other fic (see my profile)
Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings is not mine it belongs to Tolkien.
Summary: AU. Aragorn is born into a situation very different from his situation in the books. He is born a Prince but that's not all… *chapter 1* The months leading up to the birth and the morning after.
"Are you certain?" Arathorn whispered gently into his wife's ear.
"I couldn't be more so. Isn't this what you wanted?" Gilraen said pulling away slowly from her husband's touch.
"You know it is. I just didn't think it would happen so soon. I'm still happy though," he answered. Arathorn's hand slipped down to his wife's stomach. He stroked it gently, "when is he due?"
"Seven and a half months. If I got it right then we should have a baby in the middle of March.
"March…" Arathorn shook his head in disbelief.
The couple sat in silence. Gilraen's brow wrinkled as she gave a puzzled look to her husband, "he? How do you know it's a he?"
"What do you mean?" Arathorn asked.
"Before, you said he."
"So I did. I guess I just thought it sounded right," he said. Arathorn kissed the dark hair of his wife. She just smiled in return.
"If you're interested," Gilraen whispered into his ear," I agree with you."
** Seven Months Later **
"Are you sure you don't mind me going?" Arathorn asked his wife for what seemed to be the hundredth time that morning.
"Of course I am. You really aren't going far away. You'll be back within a week." Gilraen replied sounding bored at repeating herself yet again.
"What about the baby?" Arathorn asked.
Gilraen smiled this time. She said, "the baby isn't due for another two and a half weeks. You'll be back in time. Besides you're needed more elsewhere. I knew that I'd have to share you when I married you."
"Ah yes one of the worst parts of marrying a King." Arathorn joked as he picked up his bag of travelling essentials.
"A minor inconvenience when you love him as much as I love you," she said smiling at her husband.
Arathorn walked over to his wife slowly. He bent his head and planted a kiss on her lips. "I love you too. I'll be back as soon as I can, if not sooner."
"Be careful," Gilraen said as he walked out of the door.
** The Next Day **
"Is there anything else you need?" the maid asked.
"No, thank you Adrienne," Gilraen replied. With that Adrienne left. Although Gilraen did enjoy Adrienne's company she would rather be alone at this time. She sat in the chair and tried to make herself comfortable. When she managed to find a position which could be called comfortable she took a book from the nearby table. She opened it to the page marked with the bookmark. A strange bookmark really, a flower. Arathorn had given it to her after they had been for a walk. She had started the book just after and couldn't find her old marker. Twirling the flower between her fingers she began to read.
She didn't get very far into the next part however as a series of sharp kicks from the baby within disturbed her. She carefully placed the flower back inside her book. It fitted comfortably between the pages. The book was placed on the table to be returned to later.
Gilraen managed to stand quickly considering the strain her enlarged midriff placed on her back. She placed a hand on her stomach in an attempt to calm the child within. It did work to some extent but Gilraen decided it would be best to see the healer anyway.
* * * * *
"Your highness?" the mounted messenger queried. Arathorn turned away from the meal he had been enjoying to face the younger man. He stood to talk to him. Several guards who had also been sat around the fire made to stand. Arathorn waved his hand to show that he thought it unnecessary they should follow him.
"What is it?" Arathorn asked politely.
"I bring news from Minas Tirith," Arathorn nodded for the messenger to continue, "it's the queen."
"What about her?" Arathorn asked. He was panicking before he had heard the news. He had a feeling it was bad news; Gilraen wouldn't send someone to get him for nothing.
"She went in to labour about half an hour before I left, just before noon," the messenger explained.
"She's having the baby. Can I borrow your horse?" Ours are settled for the night," Arathorn said desperately.
"Of course your majesty," the messenger said dismounting.
Arathorn jumped on the horse. He turned to face his companions, "you should go on. I don't need you to follow me but you are needed elsewhere. My wife needs me though, now more than ever." With that he rode off as fast as the horse would carry him.
Dawn was just breaking as the familiar sight of his home welcomed Arathorn. A stable-hand was waiting to collect his horse as he pulled up. Arathorn asked him where Gilraen was.
"The healer's room," was the answer given by the youth. Arathorn nodded his thanks. He ran steadily towards the healer's room. All the time he was hoping the baby would be safe.
He was met with silence upon entering the wing. He slowed down on the corridor. He opened the oak door in front of him silently praying the sight to meet him would be a good one. The first thing he noticed was the bed with his wife on. She appeared to be sleeping but Arathorn felt the something was wrong. He strode over to the bed and took her hand in his.
"No, please no," he begged. He looked up to find the healer, "tell me… Tell me she isn't… isn't dead."
The healer shook his head, "I'm sorry. She died about an hour ago. She tried so hard to hold on for you."
Arathorn could hear the healer continue talking but he didn't hear the healer. The healer was wrong, she couldn't be gone. Even as his mind suggested it the cold hand within his proved it. She was gone. All this time he had been worried about the baby. Worried about the baby when this was happening to his wife. His wife, the constant in his life. She was the one thing he couldn't live without. He had been worried about the baby, the thing that did this to her. It had killed her.
By the time Arathorn had come to this conclusion the healer had finished talking. Arathorn didn't know if it was because he had finished or if he realised he had been ignored.
"How did she die?" Arathorn asked quietly holding back the tears.
"She went into labour early. The baby was in an awkward position. She lost too much blood." He explained simply.
"Why didn't you stop her losing the blood?" Arathorn asked. His voice was emotionless but inside he felt the need to blame someone. First the baby and now the healer.
"We did everything we could but it was difficult. We thought she had pulled through but she took a turn for the worse. I'm sorry."
"Sorry won't bring her back," Arathorn snapped. He sat in silence still holding his wife's hand. "I should have been here," he muttered five minutes later, "you shouldn't have been alone. Why did you let me leave?" The healer remained silent.
Arathorn stared at the wall. He wanted her back, even if only to say goodbye. He would never get to say goodbye to the woman he loved. She had died alone, more than likely hating him. Arathorn shook his head gently; his wife would never hate anyone. She didn't have it in her. She hadn't had it in her, his mind corrected, hadn't.
"What about the baby?" Arathorn asked. The question had been in his mind all along but until now it seemed unimportant.
"A healthy baby boy," the healer answered. Arathorn offered a hollow laugh, one displaying no joy. The baby was fine. The baby was healthy but it had cost his wife her life.
"Where is he?" Arathorn asked. He wanted to know. He just wasn't sure if he was ready.
"A maid took him. I can't remember her name but I could…"
"Adrienne?" Arathorn guessed, "I don't think anyone else would."
"That's right," the healer said thoughtfully. "The queen asked for her by name. She was with her until the end." The healer paused to allow Arathorn time to digest this information. Then he asked, "would you like me to go and find her?"
Arathorn didn't answer immediately. He sat and thought. After a minutes silence he said, "that would be helpful. Thank you."
The healer nodded, bowed and left the room.
It didn't seem long until Adrienne walked into the room. It could have been hours but Arathorn didn't notice.
Adrienne carried a bundle of blankets in her arms. There was no doubt the baby was in there. His son. The thought in his head was without love. How could he ever love the thing that killed his wife?
Adrienne sat down opposite Arathorn. She looked at the dead body of her friend and then at the man she had loved. Arathorn noticed Adrienne's eyes were also red and puffy from crying. She tried to smile for his sake but it didn't work. She ended up crying again, "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," Arathorn said. How could he comfort someone when his own heart still felt as though it had been shattered into millions of tiny pieces?
"She told me not to. I can't even do that for her," Adrienne said.
"I still think you're doing better than me," Arathorn stated.
"You were closer to her than anyone. I've never known two people so in love," Adrienne said. Arathorn really didn't know how to respond to that. Holding the baby out to Arathorn she asked, "do you want to hold him?"
"I can't. Not yet anyway," Arathorn said. His tone of voice was apologetic, as though he believed he should take the baby.
To Arathorn's surprise the woman didn't push. She nodded and moved the bundle within her arms.
"Do you want something to eat?" You must be starving."
"I am but I can't leave her," he replied.
"That's not her. She's gone. If you change you mind I'll be in the lounge," Adrienne said softly. Arathorn knew she didn't want to push him or hurt him. She just wanted to help him. Her saying the words out loud made it real. He had been telling himself but her words made it real. The healer's hadn't but hers did.
Adrienne was just about to leave when he asked, "did she say anything else?"
"She said that she didn't blame you and that she'd always love you," Adrienne said. She took one last look at the man beside the bed then left
"She was right wasn't she?" Arathorn asked. "You aren't here now. I'm going to go. It'll probably be best. What you would have wanted." Arathorn stood up. Tears ran down his cheek but made no sound. He bent over and kissed her lips. They were as cold as the rest of the body. Another piece of the horrible truth. Quietly he said, "goodbye, my love. I will always love you."
Slowly he let go of her hand. He placed it on top of the other, resting on her stomach. He took one last look at her face. She was beautiful, even in death. He turned away. The first time he had since entering. The door was still slightly ajar when Arathorn reached it. Normally he would have feared he was being watched. No feeling like that came at this time. There was no one there when he opened the door anyway. He walked out of the room without looking back. He then began the slow walk towards the lounge.