All things were now made ready in the city, though the lingering scars from the battle remained in certain levels. There was a great concourse of people, for the tidings had gone out into all parts of Gondor, from Min-Rimmon even to Pinnath Gelin and the far coasts of the sea; and all that could come to the City made haste. Minas Tirith was filled again with women and fair children that returned to their homes laden with flowers, and from Dol Amroth came the most skilled harpers in all the land, and the clear-voiced singers from the vales of Lebennin.
Aeardis had been gifted a fine gown of deep blue, the same sapphire shade of Boromir's own mantle. He had waited outside her chambers while the maids garbed her and made intricate braids with jewels and flowers within her dark hair. It was still early in the morning, with the sun not having rose yet. Yet the two walked past the Fountain Court and White Tree to look over the fields of Pelennor, now green and flowering again.
And when the sun rose in the clear morning above the mountains in the East, where shadows no longer lay, all the bells and trumpets rang, and all the banners broke and flowed in the wind. The White Tower of the citadel bore the standard of the Stewards, bright argent like snow in the sun was raised over Gondor for the last time.
It had seemed strange, at first, hearing others address him as the Steward, but the position had fallen to him upon his return. He was not a politician though, but a soldier and in truth, most of the affairs had been handled by his beloved. Though, after today the reign of the Stewards would come to an end.
Before the Tower Hall stood men at arms in silver and black with long swords drawn. Before the barrier stood Boromir the Steward, and his ladyship Aeardis of Tol Eressëa, and Galdor Warden of the Keys, and other captains of Gondor. His brother, the Lady Éowyn of Rohan with Elfhelm the Marshal and many knights of the Mark were present too and upon either side of the promenade was a great press of denizens.
A hush fell upon all as out from the Tower Hall stepped the Dúnedain in silver and grey, before them came Aragorn, Isildur's heir. He was clad in black mail girt with silver and wore a long mantle of navy clasped at the throat with a great jewel of green that shone from afar.
Boromir met Aragorn in the midst of those there assembled, and knelt, "the last Steward of Gondor begs leave to surrender his office." His father would have never surrendered the rule of Gondor to a stranger, yet for all their past disagreements, Boromir knew him to be noble and honest. Aragorn bade him rise. "That office has not yet ended, let it remain with the House of Húrin." He extended his hands and presented Boromir with the Horn of Gondor, once cloven in two but now repaired.
When the trumpets rang out, Boromir lifted the warhorn to his lips and a mighty sound resounded that echoed off the white stone. Gandalf came forward robed in all white and proclaimed before all those gathered: "Here is Aragorn son of Arathorn, chieftain of the Dúnedain of Arnor, Captain of the Host of the West, wielder of the Sword Reforged, victorious in battle, Elessar of the line of Valandil, Isildur's son, Elendil's son of Númenor."
Gimli stood next to the Wizard, bearing the crown of Gondor. Aragorn knelt before Gandalf, who held the ancient crown high and settled it upon his brow. "Now come the days of the King, may they be blessed."
And so began the Fourth Age of Middle Earth.
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In the days that followed his crowning, Aragorn sat on his throne in the Hall of the Kings and pronounced his judgments of those within the cities and from other close lands. Embassies came from many places, from the East and the South, and from the borders of Mirkwood, and from Dunland in the west.
Though this day had been dedicated to a meeting of the high council. Between Aeardis and Faramir, Aragorn did not have need of one more adviser and so Boromir tended to what remained of the broken army. Knowing his brother and beloved well, it was probably a mercy he was not there at the council meeting.
Several of the elders that had been on Denethor's council remained, seated at a long wooden table. Aragorn sat in the King's chair with the crown upon his brow. She thought he looked more at ease wearing the worn clothing of the rangers. "Aeardis," he greeted. She stooped down into a curtsy before the high throne, "my king."
Aragorn descended the steps, shaking his head. "Please, there is no need for such formality among friends," he took her hands, seeing the silver-blue glint of Ulmocor. "I wish for you to retain your position as a counselor," the new King stated, "though I would also have you be my personal advisor. You know the people within this city better than I ever could."
There had been a reason that the people of Minas Tirith came to her for aid and lay their woes bare. For she had compassion and understanding that Lord Denethor had not. Heat rose to her cheeks at the flattery. She caught Faramir's gaze, he was smiling at her, so were the remaining members of the council. Aeardis looked up at Aragorn and smiled. "I would be honored."
Aragorn motioned toward the table, where to the right of an empty highback chair was another seat, one indicative of her new position.
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This would have made the third time within a week that Boromir had caught Aeardis heaving up the contents of her stomach in the morning hours. He frowned. "I will carry you to Ioreth if I must."
Aeardis righted herself and returned to her desk. "I'm not as stubborn as you, Boromir," she chided, "let me finish this ledger and then I will take myself. Besides, you have work to see to." He was Steward of the city and his self-appointed task was to see the White City repaired in full.
Before noon, she had gone to the Houses of Healing. Aeardis sat on the bench with her hands twisting together, anxious to know of what diagnosis she would be given with the symptoms. It was nausea, particularly in the morning hours with a low fever and aching back. More of a nuisance than anything. Ioreth handed her a cup of tea and sat by her side, judging by the old healer's expression, it was not a serious affliction.
"When is the last time you have bled, my lady?" Aeardis almost choked on the tea upon the suddenness of the question.
She set the cup aside and frowned, "two moon's ago." She hadn't thought much of it, it was not uncommon for her to go a month or two without bleeding if she did an extensive amount of riding and work, which she had been doing as of late, but it was the sickness that was new. Aeardis paled.
Ioreth smiled and laid her withered hand upon Aeardis's knee. "You are with child." The healer rose and quickly returned with a small stone container filled with ground tea leaves, herbs, and fruits. She passed it to Aeardis, "this will help with the morning sickness."
There was a lump in her throat that she could not swallow. "Thank you, Ioreth." The old healer smiled, having an intuitive thought about what troubled the young advisor. "I can see the apprehension in your eyes. Don't wait or think about it, just tell him."
Throughout the day she slowly came to terms that a child was growing inside her. Her child. Our child. The thought alone frightened her. Aeardis returned to her desk and scrolls, continuing to work with a growing sense of joy about the revelation.
Boromir returned for the evening with hair clinging to his face and neck, the tunic he wore was transparent from the labors to rebuild the city. Aragorn had entrusted him to this task and he would see it down properly, even if it meant he had to lift every stone.
She was sitting at her desk, scribing a letter to King Éomer of Rohan to inform him of his invitation to the summer harvest. Her dress of a pale green, hair a dark brown, and skin flushed from the heat, but there was something radiant within her that made him smile.
"You are glowing," he noted, making her jump in surprise. Aeardis returned her quill to its inkpot and stood, smoothing down the folds of her skirt, though she let her hands rest on her stomach.
"With good reason," she noted. He raised a brow in question. She had thought to inform him in a different manner, over dinner perhaps, or after the harvest, but with her excitement, that moment seemed as good as any. "I am with child, Boromir."
Aeardis looked at him and saw his gaze trail down to her stomach. Her smile was causing creases at the corners of her murky eyes, now illuminated with delight. Boromir remained speechless at the news. Nevertheless, joy began to form in his heart. It spread to his limbs. A growing grin preceded his embrace of her.
"Aeardis, you are certain? Beyond any doubt?" She gave him a look, which was similar to the one she had often given him when he appeared in her room in need of her care. "Yes, my love, I am most certain." She took his hand in hers and placed it on her stomach. "Now are you?"
Boromir's other arm fell from her arm to rest on her waist. He wanted to feel, to begin to know the new life that had begun. Their child. His child. A child that would grow up in happiness and peace. Aeardis would not have to fear the loss of a son to war. So many possibilities now existed for everyone, every child.
"I had thought that elation was when you accepted my proposal, but this... is pure bliss." Thoughts started to form. Would it be a boy or a girl? Would it take after Aeardis or him? Should the child be raised in the city or should they move to one of the outlying villages? They could go to Dol Amroth, find a small house by the sea...panic crept into his mind. He did not have much time to figure it all out. It would all have to be perfect for Aeardis and the little one.
"I-" He halted. Steel eyes studied his friend, his wife, his love. She remained looking at him expectantly. There would be time enough to settle it all. With a contented sigh, a tender kiss settled on her lips.