Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings, and all its characters, races, and creatures, as well as our beloved Middle Earth, belongs to JRR Tolkien.

The following morning, I rose, and promptly commenced my morning routine. I bounded out of bed having barely opened my eyes and retched in the chamber pot on top of the washstand. This routine was so regular that it was second nature for me to move my stomach's best friend to the washstand the night before. I was so tired of this morning sickness, which coincidentally, occurred not only in the morning, but at noon and night as well, if it had a mind to.

I cleaned up my stomach's companion, and myself, and got some water heating for a cup of tea. That usually settled my stomach, at least for a while. As I got myself dressed, I glanced in the mirror and realized that my belly was getting just the smallest bit rounder. I thought back, counting the weeks and months since the battle on the Pelennor. It had been slightly over three months since then. It would not be long before my condition would become obvious. I finished dressing, and combed my hair, pinning it in its usual knot at the nape of my neck. I already felt as if I had worked an entire shift in the wards, and the sun was not even properly up yet. I had doubts that I would last through my morning walk. However, I knew my attitude would change if Gimli was true to form, and was waiting for me at the lamppost up the street. He always made me feel better, though I hoped it was not obvious to him that I felt poorly almost every day in the week.

I sat with my tea for a few minutes. It was not helping today. In fact, it may just come up before it is even completely down. I placed my arms on the tabletop and lay my forehead where they crossed. I am so tired and feel so sick. Sometimes I wonder how much longer I can endure this. Tristin had never been this bad a boy ever, much less before he was even born! This thought did not bode well for the disposition of the child I now carried. Perhaps Aragorn was a terror as a child. Valar help me, I am getting too old for this.

Gathering every shred of energy—which was not much—I rose from my table. I went back to the washstand to see that all was right with my appearance and then left for my walk. The lamppost was just up the street and Gimli was already waiting for me. I smiled as I greeted him. "Gimli, you are always a welcome sight first thing in the morning!"

He sketched a small bow to me and fell into step by my side. "I may say the same about you, my dear. And, thank you for the compliment. You are the only person who has ever acknowledged my presence in the morning as a pleasant thing. I greatly appreciate it when someone recognizes my better qualities."

"Well, recognized they are, sir," I replied. "Some mornings I do not believe I will make it to the lamppost, until I see you there. And then all my cares are thrown to the wind, for Gimli has come to banish them from my mind!"

"Maeren, did I not know better, I would think you were sweet on me!" Gimli said, laughing.

"Oh, I am much too old for you, Gimli," I said. "And Valar knows you could do so much better than me!"

We both had a good laugh at that and continued walking. I noticed that this was the first morning in a very long time that I had not been sick with worry. I may still have sickness wrought by my condition, but I was no longer worried sick by the thought of telling Aragorn about our baby. My secret was out and plans were in the works. The plans I had made for my life were no longer an issue. I had placed myself into a much larger and daunting plan than I would have ever dreamed was possible. Add to that the number of people involved and my life was virtually not my own right now. That was a scary thought.

I shook the distress from my mind. I would live in the present. And at the present, I was enjoying a walk with a friend. Gimli and I strolled along in companionable silence for a few minutes, when curiosity got the better of me. I often let curiosity lead my tongue into things that were not necessarily my business.

"Gimli, now that the war is over, and things are getting back to normal, what will you do? Where will you go? Will you stay here in Minas Tirith, or return to your folk?"

"Bless my beard, lass!" he replied with a small laugh. "Which of those questions should I reply to first?"

"I am sorry, Gimli," I said ruefully. "It is really none of my business, I was just curious, that is all."

"Well, Maeren," Gimli said, "I mind not answering any of those questions. I was just surprised by the number of them!" We reached the end of the path, crossed the street as we usually did, and proceeded up the other side. "I suppose I will be forced to travel with Legolas for a while. During a weak moment, I promised to go explore Fangorn Forest with him."

The look on Gimli's face, and the way he spat out the words Fangorn Forest, was proof that he really was not looking forward to this particular trip. "Oh Gimli," I said in mock horror. "How could you do such a thing?" I knew not where this Fangorn Forest was, but from the look on my friend's face, it was somewhere he deemed to be dreadful.

He laughed and said, "As I mentioned, it was a weak moment. However, I have exacted my revenge!" At this statement, his index finger was raised in the air in victory. "Legolas made a like promise, only he will be visiting Aglarond with me!"

"The Glittering Caves—at Helm's Deep?" I asked excitedly. "I have heard of them all my life, but have never had the opportunity to visit them. I would dearly love to see them one day!"

"I would invite you to join us, dear lady," Gimli said sheepishly, "but I know not if you could be spared at the Houses of Healing." I could tell he was not giving his true reason for his lack of an invitation, but it did not matter anyway.

"Have no care about that, my friend," I said. "I would not wish to join you at any rate."

He stopped in mid step, and I walked a few paces ahead before I noticed I had left him behind. When I turned and rejoined him, he said, "And why, may I ask, would you not wish to join me?"

Oh dear, I think I have offended him!

"Tis nothing against you, dear Gimli," I hastened to assure him. "I would go with you to the ends of Middle Earth, as you well know!"

"Why then would you not go?" he asked. He still looked a bit miffed.

"I hesitate to tell you, Gimli," I started. "He is your friend—though Eru knows why—"

"It is because of the Elf?" he interrupted to ask me, obviously very surprised.

I was quick to answer, not wanting him to think ill of me. "I have nothing against Elves, Gimli, if that is what you are thinking. It is this particular Elf I have a problem with."

I could tell he was having difficulty keeping a straight face, but this confused me. We began to walk once again.

"Maeren, are you telling me that you dislike Legolas?" Gimli asked incredulously.

"Perhaps dislike is too strong a word," I said. "It is more annoyance, I would say."

Shaking his head with an amused grin on his face, he said, "Legolas will never believe me when I tell him of this!"

This time, it was I who stopped dead in her tracks and Gimli who left me behind. As he rejoined me, I said desperately, "Gimli, do not tell him I said such a thing!"

"And why not, Maeren?" Gimli said, disappointment starting to cloud his smile. "It is so seldom I get the chance to rankle the Elf sufficiently. It would be a special favor you would be granting me. Legolas needs to be reminded from time to time that he is not the only male in Middle Earth! This would give me the perfect ammunition with which to do so. Oh please, Maeren, do not swear me to silence in this!"

I had a momentary flash of memory. I remembered a similar good-natured argument, which had occurred between Aragorn and me. Gimli looked so disheartened I knew not what to say. I began walking again as I thought of my reply. I stole a glace at my friend, a wicked smile beginning to creep across my lips. Not only would Gimli be able to rankle the Elf, I would also, in a round about way.

"Only to you would I allow permission for such a statement of mine to be told to the one I was speaking about," I said, trying to look sincere. "I think so much of you, that I cannot find it in my heart to deny you anything." For dramatic effect, I waited a few seconds to add, "Very well, I give you my permission to tell Legolas what I think of him."

He looked at me excitedly and said, "Yes! You are a princess, as I always knew you were!"

"But Gimli," I was careful to add, "I most assuredly do not wish to be present when you tell him the foul news. Do I have your solemn oath in this?" I also remembered Aragorn's warning, when he told me of Legolas' deadliness.

"You do, my dear," he said. "You most assuredly do."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

I arrived at the wards after my walk, only to find a courier from the King awaiting me. My first thought was to duck and hide behind a cot. But as Faramir had told me yesterday, it was better to face that which I feared, than to let it fester and cause me worry for days.

I opened the message and glanced at the contents. Thanks be, Gimli had gone on ahead to find his Elf friend. I am sure I was pale and beginning to shake. The King and Queen were awaiting me in their personal chambers, and I was definitely not looking forward to hearing what they wished to impart to me. Regardless of having Arwen's assurance that all would be well, I was terrified of facing any of her relatives, given the circumstances.

I wonder if they have begun their journey home yet? I was definitely grasping at straws.

I told the messenger that I would be at the Palace soon, but it seems he had been told in advance that it was a summons and he was to escort me there personally. I ducked my head further into the wards, looking for my friend and ally, Ioreth. I finally spied her down one aisle, and called to her, waving at her to come over to where I stood. She approached with a sour look about her.

She greeted me for the first time this morning with, "Yes, Mistress—what is it now?"

"It is simply," I said, bristling—I was so tired of her attitude; I could throttle her—that the King and Queen have summoned me to the Citadel. You are to take charge. Do you think you can handle that?"

She narrowed her eyes at me and answered, "I believe I can manage, Miss."

Without even bothering to bid her goodbye, I shut the door in her face and followed my escort as he led me to my doom. I wondered which Elven sanctuary I would be residing in for at least the next six months of my life. I also wondered if I would be able to withstand what would surely be a chilly reception from those who lived there.

Lord Elrond was in attendance at this little meeting today, much to my chagrin. He was standing near one of the massive windows that overlooked the city. He turned as he heard me enter the room and bid me good morning pleasantly enough. I returned his greeting in like manner. I received a smile and a nod from Arwen, who was seated in a chair opposite the one in which the King bade me to sit. All the pleasantness of this morning's walk with Gimli was for naught. I was once again sick and tired. I looked at my hands, which were folded—very tightly—in my lap. It was a moment before I realized that I had been addressed.

"I am sorry, my lord," I said hurriedly, embarrassed. "What were you saying? I am afraid I was lost in thought."

Aragorn had been speaking to me. The King—the father of the baby I carried. I still could not believe this was happening to me.

He gave me a sympathetic smile, and repeated, "Lord Elrond has graciously offered Rivendell as sanctuary to you during your confinement." I glanced at the formidable Elven Lord, but he continued to gaze out the window, seemingly oblivious to the conversation taking place not five feet from where he stood. Aragorn continued imparting his rule, it seemed to me. My how the space of months can take a man from a bedraggled ranger to a harried monarch. I wondered how I could ever have been involved with him at all. Not that he was unkind, for he was not. He was just all business. I know not what I expected from him, under the circumstances. I suppose were I to put a finger on what it was I wanted, it would be something a little less businesslike, and a bit more friend like. I again realized, belatedly, that I was being spoken to.

"Your Majesty," I said, "I seem to be distracted this morning. Please forgive me. What were you saying?" I noted his raised eyebrows at my use of his title.

"I was only saying," Aragorn repeated, "that when you have all your interests resolved, send word to me. I have arranged your escort to Rivendell with Legolas and Gimli."

I must have looked as I felt—stunned. He looked at me questioningly, and asked, "You have no objections to the escort I have arranged, do you?" Truth be known, I was not happy about the arrangement, but what stunned me was that now, my friend Gimli knew about me and my little problem. I had hoped that he not find out this way, but I truly had the obligation to tell the father of the child before I began imparting the news to others. He mentioned nothing during our walk this morning. I wondered what he thought of me now that he knew. He gave no indication that he felt any differently than before. I felt terrible that I had been unable to tell him myself.

"No, my lord," I lied, "I have no objections to any of the arrangements." I thought of the weeks it would take to reach Rivendell, and in whose company I would be. Gimli would be a welcome escort. It was his Elven friend I objected to. I was afraid I might enjoy Ioreth's accompaniment more, and that would be tortuous. I turned to Lord Elrond, as he approached us, and said, "My lord, I do thank you for your kindness in sharing your home with me. I will try not to be a burden to you whatsoever."

He simply dipped his head to me in acknowledgment, not even a ghost of a smile on his lips. I did not know whether to take that to mean all was well with him or not. Valar, if I did not die from the indignity of all this, it would be miraculous.

"Well, that is that, then," Aragorn said, slapping his knees as he stood. "I must get to work." He gave Arwen, who had been very quiet this morning, a kiss on the lips and was gone.

I was left sitting there with two Elves staring at me. I could feel myself coloring. I certainly knew not what to say at this point. I could finally stand their perusal no longer, so rose to make my exit.

"Again," I said, "please accept my thanks for seeing to these arrangements. I know neither of you have any obligation to me whatsoever, so I appreciate your kindness. I should be going now."

"Maeren, if you would not mind," Arwen said quietly, "Could you stay? Perhaps have tea with me?"

"I would be honored, my lady," I replied. I wanted nothing more than to be away from this place, but if the Queen requested my attendance, I would not deny her. I meant what I said last night. If there was even the slightest thing she may request of me, and if it were in my power to do it, it would be done. Even if her intent was to rant and rail at me, I would allow her to do so. I sat down once again.

Lord Elrond surprised us both by speaking. He had been so quiet I had almost forgotten he was there. "Arwen, go make arrangements for tea for the two of you, and while you are gone, I wish to have a word with the lady here." His slur to my character was unmistakable. His tone brooked no argument. Even I, who knew him not at all, could recognize this.

Arwen tilted her head to one side, and said, "Father, I wish you to not—"

"Daughter!" he said with quiet anger. "It was not a request. Now go, and arrange for your refreshment." He was not bothering to conceal his ire. I was becoming frightened.

The Queen paled and looked shaken. That did nothing to boost my courage, truth be known. Arwen stood and left the room, closing the door behind her. I was left alone with what was apparently a very outraged Elf.

"Maeren, I mean no disrespect," Elrond said, after Arwen had gone, "but how and under what circumstances, did you and Estel happen be alone together to accomplish this—deed?"

"My lord!" I said, affronted. "If your question was not meant in disrespect, then I do not know the meaning of the word. I think it hardly appropriate for you to be asking me questions of such a personal nature."

"I am sorry, Maeren," Lord Elrond began, without any real apology, "Arwen may be grown and of age, but I am still her father. As such, I feel compelled to look after her welfare, whether others feel it is my business or not." He turned away from me, and walked toward the window overlooking the city. He turned back to me, his eyes wounding me with the daggers they threw. "You have no concept of the magnitude of Arwen's sacrifice to become Estel's wife. And he betrayed her before the wedding even took place! And you. To have the audacity to keep this from her, when there was still time for her to forego their union. I find that to be inexcusable."

Valar, how I wished not to cry. I truly wished it. But I could tell this was one wish I most assuredly would not be granted.

"Perhaps it was inexcusable in your eyes, my lord," I said. I was surprised. Even though there were tears escaping my eyes, my voice did not quaver. "I am sorry, but I was so caught up in my own anguish, the time got away from me and the wedding came and went before I'd decided how to tell Aragorn about this."

He took a deep breath and said without kindness, "I care not for your anguish. It is the anguish of my daughter that concerns me." With his hands clasped behind him, he walked back toward me. "I expect an answer to my initial question."

I was shaking now, as well as weeping. My voice still strong, I said defiantly, "And if I do not answer, will you beat it out of me, as it looks as if you are prepared to do?" I had never been good at confrontation, so I was surprising myself with my ability to hold my own with the Elven Lord. He looked me in the eyes, but did not answer. I am not ashamed to say, it was I who looked away first. He was being inexcusably hostile. I had done nothing to deserve this sort of treatment from him. Even though I looked away, I was determined he would not think me timid.

I decided to give him the answer he sought. I had not an inkling as to why he desired to know the details, unless it was to embarrass me further. If I was to be labeled a lady, I may as well deserve the title.

"Aragorn and I had our tryst a few days before the armies went to the Black Gate. It was just past midnight and I had been in my garden when he intruded on me. When he realized his mistake, he offered to leave. That was when I made my first mistake. I asked him to stay." I rose from my chair, standing as tall as I could, to face my tormentor at his level. My nose came about mid chest on him, but I cared not. I was very angry and hurt now, and he was going to hear exactly what he had asked me to tell him.

"Aragorn was completely bereft. One of his best friends had been killed on the Pelennor that day. In addition, he was having to face the fact that he would be leading men to the Black Gates in a few days' time, and in all probability, none of them would be returning to the city. Not only had he been on the Pelennor during the heat of the battle, he was then called upon to visit the Houses of Healing and was implored to see to the people there who were suffering from what he explained to me was the Black Breath. After hours of toiling there, he escaped, and found his way to the garden where I was in the midst of my own personal crisis. I care not what you say, Lord Elrond, but that is my business—not yours. So you will not be hearing of that!"

I gathered another lung full of air, and continued. "Aragorn was weary beyond words, and sick at heart over the death of his friend—of many of his friends, I am sure. The whole of Middle Earth was seemingly poised on his shoulders. Only the Valar knew when he had last shut his eyes to sleep for more than a few minutes. He was confused, sorrowful, and discouraged. I was likewise bereft. We took comfort in each other. It was not our intent, but it happened nonetheless. I am ashamed of myself. Is that what you wish to hear, my lord?"

We were both startled by the door closing loudly. Aragorn was striding toward us, his face a thundercloud. I briefly wondered at how long he had been listening, and how much he had heard me say. He approached the two of us and stopped beside me, turning to face Lord Elrond, as I was facing him.

"Arwen told me you were in here interrogating Maeren," he said in a deadly quiet voice. "I want this to cease now. She has done nothing to you. She does not deserve your scorn. Turn that on me—it is I who deserves it."

"Go away, Estel," Elrond said dourly. "The sight of you sickens me at present."

Ignoring the Elf Lord's directive, Aragorn turned to me and said, "Maeren, in light of this development, I suppose the arrangements we have made will be abandoned. We will discuss new plans at another time. Let me have someone escort you home, where I want you to rest." He looked me directly in the eyes, as if to stress what he would say next. "Do not go into the wards. I will check up on you and you will hear directly from me if I find you have not heeded my wishes. You must take care of yourself, even if some people are making that difficult for you at the moment." He looked pointedly at the Lord of Imladris.

"To tell you the truth, Aragorn," I said, "I believe I will go. But I will be in the wards if you wish to speak to me. You may be the King, and you may have an interest in this baby I carry, but my life and how I choose to live it, are still very much under my control." I was completely indignant from all the ill treatment that had been visited on me, and was also very tired of being told what was, or was not, going to be. With that, I started to make my way out of the palace. Arwen was standing outside the door as I opened it.

I was flat out weeping by this time, but I hoped I could be understood. I wished very much for her not to feel badly about my departure. Despite all the hurt and anguish I had been subjected to, none of it was her fault. Nothing about this mess was of her doing, and I wanted her to know I was aware of that.

"My Lady." I began. My voice was quavering now. She looked shocked and concerned all at the same time. "Please forgive my rudeness at leaving in this way, but I find the company of your father to be intolerable. I would dearly love to have tea with you, but if you would not mind, it would be better at another time. I seem unable to control my emotions at present, and you deserve my utmost attention. Again, I am sorry. I am sorry about all of this."

The next thing I was aware of was being in my garden, sitting under the Wishing Tree. I knew not at this point if I loved or hated it here in this place. Here was where all my present heartache began. Here in what used to be my sanctuary. It seems that now, my sanctuary may be turning into a prison cell.

Valar, please help me. I should have known—wishing accomplishes nothing.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

It wasn't long before I was intruded upon in my garden. I could not believe it when I heard someone approach. Who now knew about my secret place?

I had not long to wait to discover who was encroaching into my refuge. Of all people—the King. Just who I would not want to see again right now. Why will he not leave me in peace?

I did not look up at his approach. I hoped that if perhaps I ignored him, he might go away. That was not to be either.

"Maeren," Aragorn began quietly, "I am sorry about how things turned out this morning. I promised that you would not be subject to scrutiny, and it seems I was unable to keep my word. I deeply apologize for that."

"Think nothing of it, Your Majesty," I replied bitterly. "I apparently deserved exactly what I got. I know not why I deserved it, though. I have a feeling I was being judged by some obscure Elven law I am ignorant of. The first time I met the Lord of Imladris, he was most gracious to me. Now he accuses me of making his daughter's sacrifice useless. She said nothing of a sacrifice last night, and quite frankly, unless she is a superb actress, I thought her to be taking the news quite well. She certainly did not act as if her life was ruined. Whatever her sacrifice may be, I know not. It is none of my business. But if what Lord Elrond said is true, I am even more ashamed now than I was before, and I thought that to not be possible." My voice had been growing quieter and quieter, so by the time I was finished speaking, it was little more than a whisper.

Aragorn settled himself in the grass beside me. I longed to throw myself into his arms. I very much needed someone to lean on. I had no one. Faramir's reputation could quite possibly be in ruins already because of my leaning on him, and I would not burden my friend Gimli at any rate. And those were really the only two friends I may have confided in at all. I truly had no one. I know not what brought it to mind, but I thought of my father and his favorite lesson. The same lesson I had so recently remembered when I had played the prank on the drunken soldier. You commit the sin, you mop up after yourself as well. I began to sob.

Aragorn made a movement as if to gather me into his arms, and even though I wished it, I knew it would be extremely unwise. "Please, do not touch me, Aragorn," I said, pulling out of his reach. "I wish for you to never touch me again." He sank back away from me. He sat with his legs crossed, and draped his forearms over his knees. He sat that way, his shoulders bent, looking down at the ground. I stole a glance at him, and at first I thought I saw tears on his face. At second glance, I saw that he simply had his eyes shut tightly, as one would shut them in a grimace of pain. I made no move of comfort, nor spoke any words of consolation. I learned a hard lesson after doing that before. I may be impulsive, but I am not insane. We would never touch each other again, in any way, if I had anything to say about it.

"I will leave Minas Tirith of my own accord, Aragorn," I said. "I promise it will be soon—I have no wish to ruin your life as well as your wife's."

At first, he made no sound. After a few moments, I heard him sigh softly. I had a feeling an argument was about to commence. He was King after all, and had probably grown used to having his own way in a very short time. At any rate, I was coming to realize that he had probably always been stubborn. I knew not what gave me this impression, for I definitely did not know him well. Just the same, something in his manner or his face, showed him to be a man who had strong opinions, and felt that he was right in whatever he was considering. I closed my eyes, waiting for the inevitable storm to commence.

It was not long in coming. "Maeren, I cannot allow you do this," he said.

"You have no say in it, Aragorn," I replied evenly. I knew I was pushing the limits of a common lady to royalty relationship, but I sincerely did not care. I had every intention of leaving—I just had no idea where I would go.

"I am the one in possession of the baby, and since he—or she—has taken up residence in my body, I should be free to do what is best for the both of us. And I feel that the best thing will be getting away from the city, and you, and your wife, and all the complications that go along with you. Once I am gone, you need never give another thought to either of us again."

"Where will you go, Maeren?" Aragorn's voice seemed to take on a slightly desperate tone, which surprised me greatly.

"You have no need to concern yourself, Aragorn," I said. "I know not where at this point, but wherever it is, I have no intention of telling you or anyone here. I want no ties to you or your crown.

"I am sorry you feel this way, Maeren," he said. He was getting stubborn on me, I could tell. Continuing, he said, "You cannot simply leave. The child is mine as well as yours." He didn't speak for a few minutes. When he finally broke the silence, his tone had changed to one that was almost pleading. "Please do not take him—or her—away. I have no immediate family related to me by blood, Maeren. I expect to have children with Arwen, to be sure. But this baby is already precious to me, for he is of my blood. He is related to me and I to him. Please do not take him away." The fear of loss was written clearly on his face. I had been wrong. It was desperation I had heard—not stubbornness. He wanted not to go against me, just because he could. He was genuinely fearful that I would take his child from him.

"Aragorn," I said wearily, "could you possibly leave me? I desperately need some time alone. I thought this would be a good place for that, but I forgot you knew of it, also. Please? Just go away." I hoped the bitterness I felt was conveyed in my words. I did not feel like being the only one in misery this day.

He let out a long sigh and climbed to his feet. He stood there for a couple of moments, then he spoke. "Maeren, please. Do nothing rash right now. Give me your word you will not leave. We need to speak about this. I am not going to command you to do anything, as I think you may believe of me. I am asking as your friend. And the father of your child."

Letting out an exasperated sigh, I said, "Very well, Aragorn! I promise not to leave! But do not be sending a courier with a summons commanding me to come to the palace. I will come in my own time, at my own bidding. Are we clear on these terms?"

"We are clear, my lady," he replied, apparently relieved at my answer. He dipped his head to me and walked away, finally leaving me in peace in my garden.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o