When I finished the last Eomer and Mareke story, I couldn't wait to start the next one. I'm so excited to get this out and can't wait to hear what people think. I'm trying to be much more descriptive in my writing and I hope that comes through in this story. Enjoy!

Indifference

Chapter One

Five years into the Fourth Age, delegations from across Middle Earth were spilling into Minas Tirith. It had been several years since the White City had been such a bustling hive of activity, but the King of Gondor and Arnor had summoned what leaders were interested in order to reevaluate and create treaties and alliances.

Our delegation from Harad had arrived on a brisk, spring morning and we uncertainly made our way up the levels of the city to the Citadel and the royal residence.

I glanced sidelong at my brother. He had barely spoken since we had stepped off the boat from crossing the Anduin and finished the journey to Minas Tirith.

I thought to myself that my brother looked a great deal older than his twenty and nine years, but he carried the weight of our world on his shoulders and that had been known to age a man.

Na'man had asked me to come rather than bringing his wife and son along. He had not said as much, but I knew that we had bolstered one another throughout the last several years without our father. He had married his wife, Fisrah, because he loved her and I found that admirable, but he apparently trusted me to be his partner in this diplomatic mission.

More and more citizens began to realize that the Haradrim party had arrived and I edged closer to my brother. There were no outright hostilities, no shouted curses, or thrown items, but whispers ran through the gathering crowd and I could hear that many of them were outraged to have their enemies welcomed with open arms into their city.

Slipping my arm through my brother's, I kept my eyes straight ahead as we mounted the last set of stairs and emerged to see the Citadel and a gathering of people waiting for us.

"King Na'man," a very tall man with dark, graying hair stepped forward and grasped Na'man's forearm in the way of greeting. "We are so glad you are here," he said genuinely.

"Your Majesty," Na'man returned nervously.

The man turned his gray eyes to me. "And this must be your wife."

"My sister. Princess Mareke," Na'man said quickly as I dropped into a deep and reverent curtsy. "King Elessar," I murmured softly when I rose, not meeting his eyes.

"My apologies," King Elessar said with a smile. "Let me introduce you to a few people before we see you to your rooms."

King Elessar held an arm out and the most beautiful woman that either myself or Na'man had ever seen stepped forward. It was the first time that either of us had encountered a member of the Fairest Race.

"My wife, Queen Arwen," the man said beaming at her, seemingly unable to control himself.

I managed another curtsy, but unlike when I had looked away from the King out of deference, I could not look away from his Queen.

Her black hair fell in waves to her waist, her skin was like alabaster and incredibly clear, and when I met her gaze it was as though I was seeing the heavens, the light blue dress and silver coronet only making them that much more distinctive.

"Papa!"

Somehow both Na'man and I had missed the little boy that Queen Arwen held on her hip, so entranced were we in her beauty.

"Of course. How rude of me," King Elessar chuckled. "Our son, The Crown Prince, Eldarion."

"It is truly a pleasure to have you both in the White City," Arwen said in the most melodic voice we had ever heard. She gave us another warm smile before taking a step back, allowing two others to step forward in her place.

"The Prince and Lady of Ithilien," King Elessar said. "Lord Faramir also serves as the Steward of this city."

"Your Majesty," the fair man stepped forward with a gracious smile, also clasping Na'man's forearm.

His wife stepped forward and there was a coldness there as she curtsied, even in her heavily pregnant state, to my brother. "Your Majesty," she barely muttered, her thin lips never once breaking into a smile. I watched her, as we were technically peers and did not have to acknowledge one another with any formalities. Her long, yellow hair fluttered in the wind, but the rest of her seemed unmovable.

"There are many more people to meet, but you should rest first. It is a very long journey from your home," King Elessar said, leading them into the Citadel. "I hope it was without event."

"It was, Your Majesty," Na'man replied.

"I am glad to hear it."

Servants were ushered forward to show us to our rooms. "I am afraid you will not have a great long while to rest. The opening feast is this evening and we begin our councils in the morning," King Elessar said. "It was a pleasure to meet you both and I look forward to getting to know you better," he said in my direction. "And to seeing how we might benefit one another," he said to Na'man.

We both bowed our heads and then followed the serving girl down the long corridors. She and her companion threw wary looks behind them at us.

Na'man and I struggled to keep a straight face. The poor girl looked as though she were afraid we might curse her or some such nonsense.

"Y-y-your Majesty, Your H-h-higness" she finally managed as she held a door open for us.

I was not sure what I was expecting, but it certainly was not the sitting room before us, though I should not have been surprised.

Minas Tirith was called the White City, but for some reason I had believed that our chambers while there would resemble the bright and colorful ones of our home.

The walls were bare stone only sporting an oil painting here and there to liven up the space, though they were mostly depictions of battle scenes or oaths being taken as far as I could tell. They did not lend an air of festivity or of peace.

Na'man and I went our separate ways to look over our bedchambers, but they were not in much better shape.

"This is horrendous, is it not?" I looked over in the corner of the room, to find my companion, Oyna, unpacking and putting garments into a bureau of drawers.

I snorted. Oyna and I had been together since we were children and she had never been one to mince words.

"I suppose we will make do," I replied, sitting on the edge of the bed. It seemed to be a decent enough feather mattress with heavy quilts to keep out the still chilled air. I wrapped my arms around myself completely unused to such temperatures. "What is the washing situation? Apparently we do not have much time before the opening celebrations."

"There is actually quite a nice tub. I could send to have it filled for you," she offered.

"That would be lovely, thank you," I replied.

Half an hour later, after being glared at by the servants who brought in the boiling hot water in buckets, I was submerged in the tub, sloughing off the grit, grime, dirt, and dust of traveling for nigh a fortnight.

"You would think I was the one who had brought War to them," I said to Oyna who was sitting on a stool next to me, passing me items as I required them.

"Well your brother did," she replied, watching in amusement as I pulled a tortoise shell comb through my wet curls, wincing all the while.

"That is not very helpful," I said, rolling my eyes and wincing at a particularly bad knot.

"It was not meant to be, but you do need to understand what these people are going to be feeling. Especially the serving folk," she said. While she was not of the serving class, being a daughter of a nobleman, she interacted much more with the servants than I did. "They hold grudges…and superstitions."

I handed the comb back to her and she passed me the vial of coconut oil that I massaged from my scalp to the ends of my curls.

"Yes I thought the poor girl who led us to our rooms was going to give herself a fit worrying if I was going to turn her into a toad or something of the like."

Oyna laughed. "Indeed. I heard a few of the serving boys when they were stoking the fire say they would not be opposed to a little bit of your black magic or a love spell."

"Oyna!"

"I did not say it!"

We both dissolved into a fit of giggles, me clinging to the side of the tub so I would not go all the way under and have to start all over again with my hair.

When we had regained ourselves, we began the process of preparing me for the feast.

"What outfit would you like to wear?" Oyna asked, laying a few options on the bed.

"Well I do not want to stand out too much," I said thoughtfully.

"You jest, do you not?" she asked, looking me up and down. "You and His Majesty shall look like two almonds floating in a bowl of milk."

"Again, Oyna, you are not very helpful," I said, though I knew she was right and my stomach had begun to churn at the thought. "The plum should work."

"Not to mention your wild hair, nose ring, and tattoos," my companion continued as though she hadn't heard me.

I glanced down at my body before she began to dress me. There were rings tattooed on my wrist to indicate my nineteen years of age, a sun around my navel to indicate that I was Haradrim, and a serpent wound its way around my right upper arm, letting those who understood know that I was a member of the royal family. There were a few others scattered about, but those would be what were visible during the celebration.

"Mareke!" I heard my brother's voice through the bedroom door. "We are going to be late!"

I opened the door for him and then sat at the vanity so that Oyna could finish preparing me.

"You look terrible," I said to my brother before I was forced to look at the ceiling, Oyna applying kohl around my eyes.

Na'man began fussing with his outfit, dark breeches and an ornately embroidered navy silk tunic.

"It is not your clothes," I replied.

"I am nervous," he said. "I feel as though I might be sick."

I nodded. "I can finish the rest," I said to Oyna. "Could you fetch my healing things?"

Without a word, she knelt and pulled a large wooden box from under the bed where she had stowed it.

I put in several golden hoop earrings in each ear and then attached one, with a very fine golden chain, to the hoop that I always wore in my nose. The final piece was a golden head chain that ran along the part in my hair and fell in three circles around my head, with a clear jewel dropping on the center of my forehead.

"Now then," I said as Oyna placed the box on the vanity where I had cleared a space. I pulled out a jar and removed the canvas top. Luckily, the porters on our ship and in our traveling group had listened when I said that the box could not be jostled or placed on an uneven surface.

"My breath will be foul from that," Na'man complained when I pulled a pale sliver of ginger from the vinegar, salt, and sugar it had pickled in.

"Luckily for you, mint also helps with nausea," I replied.

Na'man grimaced as he popped the wet sliver into his mouth and began to chew. "I cannot see how this works as the texture alone could make me ill," he said, chewing slowly.

"If you would just swallow it, it would help."

With a gulp, the ginger was gone. I put the jar back and pulled out a mesh bag that contained large mint leaves.

"Now chew on that until we leave." I glanced over my shoulder. "Oyna, could you give us a moment, please?"

"Of course." She dipped her head in my brother's direction. "Your Majesty."

I pretended that I was still putting the finishing touches to my appearance and learned toward the full length looking glass that leaned against the wall near the lavatory. I could see my brother behind me, but I did not let him know I was watching him as he paced.

"You will be fine," I said, smudging the kohl around my eyes. "You have been preparing for this for nigh on a year."

"Yes, but I am afraid that not many others will be receptive besides King Elessar. I am not sure that many approve of him extending the invitation to Harad."

"That is not your concern," I replied. "He did extend the invitation. And now you must use it."

I adjusted the plum colored top to make sure I was adequately covered and then reached for the cloth of gold woven belt that Oyna had laid on the bed. For the important occasion of the opening feast, it would enhance the otherwise fairly plain outfit.

"And if I do not use it, that shall be the end of my reign," Na'man said morosely.

"You cannot think like that. You will be fine and I will do all in my power to help you, though I am sure you will not need it. People cannot help but to like you," I said.

"Not the Lady of Ithilien," he replied.

I had to agree. I had expected certain things from our visit, but her icy reception in particular had been unnerving.

"It is said she went to battle herself and was gravely injured,"

"Went to battle? During the War" I asked as we exited our chambers.

"On Pelennor Field." Na'man nodded. "It is what is said."

"As though I were not intimidated enough earlier," I sighed.

Coming around a corner, we entered a main corridor and joined a throng of people heading for Merethrond, The Great Hall of Feasts.

The chattering and laughter around us died immediately when my dark brother and I joined the ranks. Once more, I slipped my arm through his and gave him a squeeze. "All will be well," I murmured in Haradrim so as not to be overhead. I imagined that we would have to be very careful of speaking in our own language around those who were already wary of us.

We were put into a queue to be announced as we entered Merethrond. When it was our turn, the entire hall fell quiet. No one moved or spoke.

"King Na'man and Princess Mareke of Harad," the herald called out, though he could have whispered and everyone would have heard him.

I felt the gazes of those around us, eyeing my inked skin, bared midriff, and sleeveless top.

We gave uncertain smiles to those around us and then ambled out of the way of the next pair, the chattering eventually resuming.

A servant passed us with a tray of full wine goblets and we both took one, thinking to make the mingling easier for ourselves.

My first swallow of the bitter liquid took my breath away. I could tell that Na'man was having a similar reaction. "Well that had better get me absolutely drunk," he said, scrunching his nose.

I took another tentative sip. It was nothing like our native raki, made with aniseed and deliciously sweet.

"It will have to do," I said, trying once more and hoping to feel the slightest effect as soon as possible.

Everyone was staring at us.

"King Na'man, Princess Mareke."

We both turned to see King Elessar making his way toward us, a friendly smile on his features.

"I hope you found your chambers to your liking."

"Everything is quite pleasant," Na'man said and I nodded my agreement, turning my face into a mask.

"Wonderful. I am very glad to hear it." He offered me his arm. "There are several people I would like to introduce the both of you to. Many have been eager to meet the young King of Harad."

I gave a smile. Of course people wanted to meet such an oddity as my brother. They had never seen anything like him, or me for that matter

"Prince Imrahil," King Elessar said, catching the attention of an older gentleman amongst a group of other nobles. "I was just telling King Na'man and his sister that you had been very keen to meet them both."

Prince Imrahil gave a warm smile that crinkled the skin around his eyes and mouth. Though he was more advanced in years than those around him, he was every bit the fine Numenorean specimen with dark hair and clear gray eyes.

"Indeed I have. I am a little embarrassed to admit, but I am a great admirer of your culture. I have studied what I could, but it is not nearly enough."

I was quite taken aback by the older man who was looking between my brother and I eagerly.

"Perhaps we might leave your sister to that conversation," I heard King Elessar say, guiding Na'man away to meet more important men, or so I presumed.

"I would be happy to tell you all I can," I said with my own smile, being welcomed into his group, which it turned out was mostly composed of three sons. They were all kind enough, but I found the youngest one, Amrothos, studying me intently as I spoke with his father. Throughout our conversation I learned a bit about the royal family of Dol Amroth as well and found them rather pleasant.

I told Imrahil about our own palace and the dwelling places of Harad's inhabitants. I tried to explain our food and beverages, and then I began telling them how our celebrations compared to the one I was taking part in.

"And after the meal we would dance long into the morning," I said. There was music playing faintly in the background and it didn't sound anything like the percussiveness of our Haradrim music. The beat of it drove hips and shoulders. "Often the women perform together as a bit of entertainment for guests."

"I would not mind seeing that," Amrothos said.

I glanced at him.

"Oh no, I would enjoy that tremendously," Prince Imrahil agreed, though the look he gave me was not as lascivious as his son's.

"I know after our time in Gondor, my brother would love to host our new friends in our home so that you could see it all for yourself."

"That will certainly have to be arranged," Imrahil said enthusiastically. "I am much looking forward to speaking with your brother tomorrow." He offered his arm to me. "But we do not need to speak of such boring things now. Please, join us at our table, Princess."

I obliged, but looked around for Na'man. I found him making his way to join the Prince of Ithilien at his table.

It was true that we had always bolstered each other, but perhaps it was best to divide and conquer as he prepared to face the councils the following day. It was all important that we left with powerful allies.

More wine was poured and then course after course was served.

"Let me know if there is anything you are unfamiliar with, my dear," Imrahil said.

"All of it," I laughed. He joined me, but kindly explained the different dishes as they were presented. There were broths and stews followed by a wide array of meats including salted beef, smoked pheasant and quail, fresh trout and pike from the Anduin served in rich sauces. Accompanying the meats were sides of potatoes, carrots, mushrooms, and watercress.

By the time the dessert platters were placed before us, I was nearly stuffed.

"You must try the fruit. It is cooked in the wine and I believe you might enjoy that a little more than you seem to the beverage on its own."

I had to smile at the perceptive older man. I watched as he reached through the bowls of puddings, trays of tarts, and the wafers to serve me a spoonful of the fruit. I took a small bite, afraid that it would taste like the wine, but it didn't at all.

"Oh that is wonderful," I said, closing my eyes.

"I thought you might like that," he said. "It is a favorite in our home as well."

"If you visit us," Amrothos said. "You could have as much as you like."

"An enticing notion," I said as neutrally as I could.

Finally, the procession of platters ended and the music began playing louder. I watched with a small smile as King Elessar and Queen Arwen took to the floor. After an acceptable amount of time, the Steward and his wife did the same. The nobility joined when the second song began.

After sitting for a few songs, I had fallen into a daze from the wine, which I kept drinking despite its taste, and the courses and courses of food.

"Princess?" I looked up to see Prince Faramir holding his hand out. "Might I have a dance?"

"Oh," I said, a bit taken aback. "I have practiced the steps in theory, but they have never been put to the test."

"I have very tough feet," he assured me with a kind smile.

"I hope you do," I replied, placing my dark hand in his and rising to my feet.

Once we were on the dancefloor and moving around it in great arcs, he glanced at the table I had come from. "I see you met my cousins?"

"Your cousins?"

"Yes. Imrahil and my mother were siblings."

"I see. Well yes. We spent quite a lovely meal together. They were all very gracious and helpful as I had quite a lot to learn."

I glanced up at Faramir and thought to myself that he was doing more for diplomacy by dancing with me than would be accomplished in any talks. As I looked around the dancefloor, I saw Queen Arwen taking my brother onto the floor and was sure that she had the same idea as Prince Faramir.

"I am sure there are many more connections in this room. Tell me some of them."

"Well, you see that man who is now sitting to Aragorn's right?"

It took me a moment to realize of whom he spoke. The King of the Reunited Kingdoms had many names. When it came to me, I looked at the King and then the man beside him.

I had never seen a man so big in my entire life. He was all broad shoulders and chest with arms as thick as my thighs crossed and even sitting down I could tell he would be nearly as tall as King Elessar when standing.

His hair and beard was a beautiful shade of gold, almost as though the mineral had been pounded out and cut into tiny individual pieces that glimmered in the torchlight. He had a heavy brow over brown eyes and his mouth was set in a straight line.

"That is the King of Rohan. He is my wife's brother," Faramir said.

"My brother told me something that cannot possibly be true," I said, looking back at Faramir who arched an eyebrow at me. "He said that your wife went to battle during the War."

Faramir chuckled. "She did indeed. She is fearsome, I can tell you that."

I had to smile, though the woman had intimidated me badly. It was obvious how much Faramir cared for her.

"If she had not been injured we would not have met in the Houses of Healing and we would certainly not be here together."

"It is interesting how things work out sometimes," I said.

"It truly is," he agreed. "And you? You came here with your brother, but are you married or betrothed?"

My cheeks went warm at the suggestion. "I am not," I said quietly. Luckily, the music died down and I was allowed to go back to my table.

ooooOoooo

After breakfast the next morning, the men headed for King Elessar's council chambers while the women took suggestions from Queen Arwen on how to spend their time.

I had been taken with the idea of visiting the Court of the Fountain and seeing the White Tree for myself.

The day had dawned rather gloomy and so there were only a few people milling about. As I made my way towards the tree and fountain, I glanced back at the White Tower of Ecthelion. The height and the contrast of the white against the mountain backdrop nearly took my breath away.

I had found Minas Tirith lacking in a few places, but there were also instances of incredible beauty.

As I approached the fountain and, within it, the White Tree, I found myself drawn to sit on the stone edge of the fountain rather than a bench from across it. I trailed my fingertips in the cool water as I looked up at the tree.

I had never seen anything like it. There was not a blemish or a gnarl in the trunk and the flowering limbs were white to match the bark.

"Where are the fish?" A little voice demanded.

I looked down to see a girl of about five or six years with deep chestnut hair that hung long and straight in a plait down her back with vaguely familiar brown eyes.

"Oh," I said, a little taken aback. "I am not sure."

"Well in the spring and summer in Edoras, we have fish in our fountain," she said matter-of-factly.

I stifled a laugh as I watched her scramble up onto the ledge next to me. It seemed she did not care at all about the other beauty around her, but was wildly disappointed in the lack of fish in the fountain.

I looked around, but it seemed the little girl was alone so I kept an eye on her.

"Tell me more of Edoras," I said as she wobbled precariously near the chilly water.

"Well, I am a princess there," she said, in her straightforward way. "I am Princess Artanis. My father is Eomer-King."

"I see," I responded, more concerned than ever that she was not accompanied. I glanced at my own guards who were standing a ways away, but who were always watching and on alert.

"And who are you?" She looked me up and down appraisingly.

"I am Princess Mareke of Harad," I replied with a small smile.

"Mareke." She paused. "Mareke." She tried again until she had it right. "Well that is an odd name," she said frankly.

"Perhaps I think yours is odd," I replied.

The little girl looked affronted. "My Aunt Eowyn says you are not to be trusted," she said, in retaliation, folding her arms across her bony chest, another faintly familiar gesture.

"I am sure she does," I said, thinking back to the chilly reception we had received from the Lady of Ithilien. "I hope you will make the decision for yourself though."

"Princess Artanis!"

We both looked quickly up to see a stout older woman hurrying down the path towards us trailed by two guards. The little princess let out a huff of a breath. "Yes Dernhild?"

"You must stop running away from me and your guards," the older woman said when she caught her breath.

"I did not run."

"We shall not get into the semantics today," Dernhild said, exasperated.

I was trying not to laugh, finding that I quite enjoyed the little girl's verve and wit.

"Come, Princess," Dernhild held her hand out. "Your father will be out of his meetings soon and we will have to tell him about this."

Dernhild seemed completely unperturbed at the thought of facing her father.

"Farewell Princess Mareke," the girl said with a mischievous grin. "I think we might be friends."

ooooOoooo

"How was it?" I asked Na'man, later that evening when we had all gathered once more for the evening meal.

"Surprisingly well," he said with a smile, happily taking a swallow of wine.

"I can see that," I laughed.

The meal was much less of a to-do than the night before and there was no dancing. The men seemed tired from their long day of meetings and so it was an early night.

Na'man and I sat for a while in our shared sitting room, trying to accustom ourselves to the wine.

"You are optimistic?" I asked.

"More so than yesterday," he replied. "Many of them seemed interested in all that we could provide that they do not currently have access to."

"And they would back you against our brothers?"

"Half-brothers," Na'man growled. "And we have not gotten that far. But of course, I am the most open to a relationship with the Realms of the North. It will be explained that they will likely lose our resources if I am dethroned."

I shook my head, not wanting to think of what 'dethroned' would mean for my brother. It would not be peaceful and he would not survive.

In Harad, King's had historically kept a great many lesser wives in a harem, in addition to their chief wife, Na'man and I's mother.

After the War, when Na'man had ascended the throne and made it clear that he meant to form bonds with other Realms, two of our half-brothers had launched separate campaigns to have Na'man removed from the throne and one of them put on it. There would, without a doubt, be a secondary bloody struggle to determine who would actually end up the next King of Harad.

While there were many who agreed with my brother's strategy to form alliances in order to strengthen Harad, there were those who wished to continue on in Harad's legacy of isolation.

"Whatever happens, I can tell you that I will not ever have Amir in this position," Na'man said firmly.

I thought of my nephew, the toddler Crown Prince, back in Harad and I knew that his father would do anything to keep him safe and on the path to take the throne when he was an appropriate age with no obstacles.

"This shall be the end of the harems."

ooooOoooo

We continued on in quite the same way for several days, with Na'man attending meetings and me wandering through the Citadel with Oyna to occupy my time.

My brother was experiencing much more success than he had anticipated, but I had always believed in him.

Every evening when I was with him in the Merethrond, I could not help but look to him with pride as he was surrounded by the men he was building very beneficial relationships with.

On the fourth afternoon, Na'man came to our chambers while I was preparing for the evening meal. It was the first time he had done so and I looked up at him with a smile when he came into my bedchamber.

I was sitting before the vanity as Oyna once more lined my eyes.

"This is a pleasant surprise," I said.

"I have news," Na'man said.

I stilled Oyna's hand at the strange tone in my brother's voice. I had never heard it before. He was obviously excited, but also apprehensive.

He remained silent, shifting from foot to foot and wringing his hands before him.

"Out with it," I said.

"You are to marry Eomer-King of Rohan."

The jar of kohl clattered from Oyna's hand and shattered, black liquid oozing across the white stone floor.

As she knelt to clean it, we both heard her mutter, "His sister will love that."

There you have it! I'm pretty pleased with this first chapter and I hope you loved it as well! I'd love to hear what you think and any ideas you already have. I love nothing more than a good headcanon and some of you have known Mareke for quite a while now so please share anything you'd like to see!

Happy reading,

Avonmora