Author's Note: Wow…long time since we updated this chapter. I can't offer anything but a heartfelt "Sorry" on that topic. I've had the majority of this written for months, but I had no decent ending for it, and finishing university so I could graduate this December was of the utmost importance, hence my fanfiction writing came to a complete stop for about three or four months. I'm terribly sorry about that, but I think you'll like this chapter, and hopefully it will have been worth the wait. I certainly tried to make it as long as I possibly could to make up for it, but still make it very interesting with lots of little juicy plot threads to keep you intrigued.

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After our first night in Mordor, our lives fell more or less into a routine. Ereinion would normally awaken early get on with 'paper shuffling', often things that he hadn't finished the night before because he got distracted by me. I myself would get out of bed just in time to dress and have breakfast with him before we would go our separate ways – me, to the healers to learn the different herbs and their uses, and him to his advisors and commanders to learn if the enemy looked like attacking any time soon. He would have lunch in the command pavilion and I would have mine with the healers. I would spend an hour after lunch learning from Sadoriel. Those lessons basically consisted of everything from the foundations of Elvish history to etiquette and how to conduct myself like a proper lady. Thankfully once those lessons ended (I sometimes despaired I would ever get the hang of things!), she would help me change into tunic and breeches for my 'arts of war' lesson with Ereinion and Glorfindel.
These lessons consisted of Minaimîr and I being taught archery and how to wield a sword properly by each of our husbands. At first it seemed strange to see Ereinion wielding a sword instead of his usual spear Aeglos. But Minaimîr and I took those lessons more seriously than any of the other ones we'd received so far, and that soon didn't matter so much as it did to perform the defensive manoeuvre exactly right.
Our war lessons only ended when dinner started to be served. This could usually be accurately judged by observing the number of Elves who came to watch with a bowl of soup or stew in their hands so that they could eat while they watched us. I wished they wouldn't. I felt embarrassed enough about how bad my skills were already without having anyone else watching me.
I was conscious of the fact that I had become an icon of sorts, a renewed hope for the soldiers in my husband's army. There was a lot of pressure on me to learn things fast and to perform them as perfectly as possible. Not to mention there was the ever lingering issue of the High King being still without an heir. I noticed on more than one occasion that some of the soldiers would try to be discreet in looking over my stomach for signs that I might be pregnant. Ereinion, if he was with me, would usually wrap his arm around me and hold me closer at that point.

After dinner, Sadoriel usually had a hot bath already prepared for me and I'd soak in that until the water became tepid. Every once in a while Ereinion would join me.

I don't think you need to know anymore than that to guess how our nights were usually ended before we went to sleep.

Once a week though, Ereinion would take me to the command pavilion and give me private lessons in battle strategy. It was nice for me to be able to ask questions without needing to feel stupid in front of his commanders. We'd continue those lessons until Ereinion judged me to be getting too tired, at which point we retired to our tent.

Funny how he thought I was too tired to study battle tactics anymore, but not too tired for other certain activities. Not that I was complaining, mind you…naughty grins

It was not quite seven weeks since my wedding, and I slept with the first real peace that I had felt since entering the desolate land of Mordor. Wrapped gently in my husband's arms, I knew that I was safe. That sense of security was short-lived, however, since I was soon awoken by another vision of foresight.
I gasped, lifting my head from Ereinion's warm chest as I struggled to convince my body to leave his snug and welcoming embrace. Knowing through our bond that I had foreseen something, Ereinion too had woken from the path of dreams. What is it? he asked quietly, shifting tiredly to let me roll over to one side, as I propelled myself into full alertness.
They're going to attack, I replied uneasily. Very soon. Sauron's planning to hit Thranduil's army the hardest – he'll massacre them if we do not warn them. Then he will turn to our armies. We're unprepared…the losses would be devastating.
Grimly, Ereinion pushed back the blankets and stepped into his breeches. Following suit, I got out of bed and began quickly dressing.
What do you think you're doing?
I turned to see Ereinion glaring commandingly at me. I was taken aback by his question. I have to help warn them-
You need to stay where it is safe, Ereinion countered firmly. He glanced pointedly at the bed.
It was my turn to glare at him. If you think for one second that I am going to lie in bed while you-
Anórmír! We don't have time to argue this-
You will alert Círdan, Nîthion will alert Elendil and his sons, Sadoriel can inform the healers of the imminent battle and I will take my guards to warn Thranduil, I interrupted impatiently. I gave Ereinion half a second to consider it before I added, It's only logical.
Though he thoroughly disapproved of the idea, Ereinion knew, as I did, that I was right. Thranduil would be more receptive to listening to me about this matter. Very reluctantly, Ereinion consented. Be very careful, Anórmír, he warned.
Since I didn't need to wear armour to deliver a message, I stepped into the antechamber and roused Nîthion, Berialagor and Sadoriel quickly giving them their instructions. Sadoriel disappeared immediately out of the tent. As Nîthion and Berialagor finished buckling on their armour with my help, Ereinion emerged from our bedchamber ready for battle.
Get moving, Anórmír, he ordered brusquely. I didn't take offence at his stern tone. I knew that he was anxious for me to complete my task and be safely back within his own protection once again.
Berialagor and I slipped out of the tent and headed for Thranduil's tent will considerable speed. We did not run, since it would have attracted more attention than necessary, but it was certainly the fastest walk I'd ever taken.
There was a small gap between Círdan's command and Thranduil's, but we crossed it without incident. My guards and I, cloaked and hooded as we were, attracted a few looks from the sparse number of wood Elves that were not on sentry or resting in their tents. As we approached Thranduil's tent, I briefly wondered how much time had passed already and how much longer we had before the orcs attacked.
Thranduil had only two guards watching his tent. Two guards were all it took to delay us.
"Would you kindly tell your King that Anórmír, wife of Gil-galad, urgently needs to speak with him," I requested quite firmly, struggling to keep my edginess from my tone. Here we were, short on time, being held up by stupid protocol!
One of the guards gave a stiff nod of his head, clearly not liking the tone of my voice, and entered the tent, whilst his companion politely but resolutely kept us from intruding. Underneath my cloak, I crossed my arms to stop myself from fidgeting anxiously. I hoped the darkness was enough so that the remaining guard would not be able to see my scowl beneath my hood either.
The guard came back after several moments that seemed to take an eternity. "The Queen may enter, but only with one of her guard," the Elf informed us pompously.
I sensed my other four guards tense and prepare themselves to argue, but we had wasted enough time already so I said impetuously, "Fine. Berialagor, come with me." I hastened into the tent.
Thranduil was standing by his desk, dressed only in tunic and breeches, when I entered the inner sanctum. "Queen Anórmír," he greeted casually. "I was most surprised when my guard told me you were here to see me. Can I offer you a glass of wine?"
I shook my head impatiently. "No, thank you."
Pouring a glass for himself, he asked, "Then what brings you to my camp at such an unusual hour, Your Majesty?"
"Sauron's preparing to attack very soon," I said bluntly. "If my vision is correct, he plans to strike your army hardest of all before he turns to the others, Your Highness," I added, remembering to use the appropriate formality.
Thranduil's manner became immediately business-like. He put his glass on the table. "How soon?" he asked solemnly.
"Any time now-" The words had barely left my mouth than I blinked and in that moment I foresaw the large boulder hurtling through the air to land smack in the middle of Thranduil's tent… Pulling my mind back to reality, I reacted immediately. "Get to the walls!" I ordered, reaching forward to grab his sleeve and drag him to the tent side that I knew would be furthest away from the impact zone.
Berialagor pushed us both to the wall just as the tent roof collapsed in, causing the tent poles to break and the tent collapse all around us, surrounding us in darkness. I heard the sounds of fabric been ripped and was soon being pulled out of the fallen tent by my guards who had remained outside. Thranduil, likewise, had been cut from the wreckage and pulled out by his own guards. Thranduil gave them hasty orders, and they left, before he turned to me.
"I hope you'll excuse me, Your Majesty. There are pressing matters I need to oversee, you understand," he remarked with an air of dry humour. To my guards he said, "Get her back to the safety of her husband's tent."
I didn't have time to feel irritated by his orders (when will people give me some credit for intelligence?), since my guards had already moved to do just that. I was hustled in the direction of the main camp of the Elves, my guards forming a tight group around me.
As we moved, we saw Thranduil's Elves yelling and running towards the frontline all around us.

By the time we reached the short gap between Thranduil and Cirdan's camps, the battle was in full swing on all sides. The orcs were quite close to where we were about to cross. Berialagor hesitated, obviously trying to decide whether to risk crossing here or if it would be safer to take me further out of reach before crossing.
The orcs made the decision for her. They surged forward, forcing Thranduil's and Círdan's armies aside to run unchecked down that gap towards us. Berialagor and my guards unsheathed their swords, even as they propelled me forwards, hoping to reach Círdan's camp before they engaged the orcs in battle, though I did not know what good it would do. There were none in Círdan's camp nearby that could come to our aid; they were all at the front, fighting.
We were only a few yards from the nearest tent when the orcs caught up to us. Surrounded as I was by my guards, I could not run, even if there had been a way through the swarm of orcs encircling us. I was nauseated by the severity of my situation; I was unarmed and without a means of escape. The presence of my guards meant that I was not defenceless, but they could only focus on fighting so many orcs at a time. They could not protect me against them all.
An orc flung itself forward, creating a rift between two of my guards – I couldn't see who – that was just enough for other orcs to get behind the defence perimeter my guards had set up around me. Grabbing the blade off a dead orc, I took up my place in the ensuing battle.

Not so surprisingly, Minaimîr arrived soon after and began hacking at orcs at a rapid pace. Glorfindel should be proud of the way she held her sword and fought. It may not have been perfect, but she looked darned good at it to me.

We couldn't seem to cut down the orcs fast enough to make those final yards within Círdan's camp. Minaimîr and my guards fought desperately to force the orcs back at least long enough so that I would be spared from using my temporary sword, but to no avail. Mentally, I swore that I didn't care what Ereinion said or what anyone thought, I was going to keep a sword at my side permanently from then on. From the corner of my eye, I saw some of Círdan's people cutting their way through the orcs towards us as well.
Relief rushed through me but my elation was premature and short-lived. In that moment of distraction, an orc had circumvented my guards' lethal blades and swung its sword at me before I realised it was there. I leapt back, stumbling on the corpses littering the ground, but not before the orc's blade slashed through my left upper arm. I cried out in pain. Falling backwards, I obtained further cuts and bruises from the discarded weapons of the dead. Even as I dropped my sword and grasped the bleeding wound on my arm, I felt a spear cut painfully through my right thigh.
Remembering the battle, I looked up and saw that Minaimîr had savagely done away with the orc who had wounded me and found that Círdan's Elves had finally reached us. Cursing myself for forgetting the battle and putting myself in danger by dropping my weapon, I crawled to my feet and, limping, made my way into Círdan's camp as the orc numbers rapidly thinned.
Berialagor, ever aware of where I was and what I was doing, was by my side in a heart beat and lead me through the Shipwright's camp to the main pavilion of Ereinion's own camp. As we stopped so that she could open the tent flap, I quickly glanced around and made sure all four of my other guards were still with me and not badly injured before I let her push me inside and set me on a stool. Minaimîr had stayed to battle the orcs.
"Let me look at that," Berialagor instructed, pulling my hand away from the profusely bleeding wound in my arm. I was thankful that she didn't berate me for not jumping out of the way quickly enough. "You'll need to see a healer, but they'll have worse patients than you to tend to over the next few hours."
"I'll be fine," I assured her, rueful of the fact that I had managed to obtained such injuries. Ereinion was not going to be pleased.
Berialagor found some strips of fabric that she could use as bandages and wrapped them around the wounds on my arm and thigh. The bleeding slowly ebbed. Nevertheless, the blood was evident on the bandages by the time Ereinion and his commanders returned to the main pavilion.
"Anórmír," Ereinion said in surprise when he first saw me. He quickly took in my battered appearance and his expression soured to a reprimanding look of disapproval. I thought I told you to take care and stay out of the battle!
He hadn't actually told me to stay out of the battle, just to take care, but I didn't think he'd appreciated me being pedantic about it now. The battle started a little earlier than we anticipated. The orcs got through the gap between Thranduil's and Círdan's camps. We got caught there. It couldn't be helped, Ereinion. I quickly filled him in, flashing images from my memory into his mind.
Ereinion sighed and took his place next to me. "You are not badly injured?" He eyed the bloodied bandages. Regardless, you should be more careful now…
Though he didn't say it, I knew what he was thinking and I managed to restrain myself from glaring at him, which might have dared him to add those words that he had carefully left off his sentence.
"I'll live," I told him. "It looks worse than it actually is."
"I sent Rúmion to the healers, but there were none to be spared, my Lord," Berialagor reported.
Ereinion nodded. "I would expect as much." He glanced at me before taking his usual place around the table to wait for the reports to come in. My husband seemed content to allow me to stay by his side for the moment.

That was how I was present when Ereinion's quartermaster, Narwanár, entered the tent covered with bandages and wounds to announce grimly that several of the Elves who helped him keep track of the supplies and such like had been killed. He didn't give the specifics, but it didn't really matter how they had died, so much as it did that they were now gone and Narwanár would need help.
I felt Ereinion push aside his grief for the loss of his people's lives and knew that at the same time he was silently contemplating what to do now.
"Ereinion?" I interrupted softly. No sooner than the words left my mouth than I silently cursed myself for saying it aloud. I should have spoken within our mind-link before I said anything within the hearing of Ereinion's commanders and advisors.
Ereinion turned to look at me.
Too late to back down, I tried not to sound timid as I said, "I can still write…and I am not doing anything particularly useful at the moment…even if it's only temporary, I could help Narwanár."
Ereinion considered it for a second before turning to Narwanár. "Would you accept the help of my Lady for the time being?"
Narwanár, usually a solemn Elf, gave a weary smile. "The Lady has spoken…and I would be glad for her help."
"Send a messenger and see if Minaimîr is not other wise engaged," Ereinion suggested. "This is a useful occupation for her time also."

So that was how I found my position within the Last Alliance. It was a little hectic at first, especially since Minaimîr and I had to use our link to our husbands to understand a lot of what was written (it was all in Elvish, of course), but we quickly picked things up and were able to read and write well enough to cope. Narwanár, as I had already noted, was a solemn Elf for most of the time, but working with us produced more smiles to his face (sometimes he tried to turn away to hide it from us) than I had ever seen on him before as our quick wit knocked him over.
It was three days after the battle, however, that Minaimîr arrived at the quartermaster's tent rather squeamish. She couldn't sit still for a second. Anyone would have thought she had fire-ants in her underwear.
Narwanár and I tried to pretend nothing was wrong (after being snapped at for asking what was wrong, wouldn't you?) but it was just before lunch that my Elvish sister cracked it. She threw the quill onto the desk and stood up. "That's it!" she declared in an irate tone as though we had done something totally wrong. "I'm going to find Glorfy!"
I exchanged puzzled glances with Narwanár, who gestured that I could leave to find out what was wrong with my sister. I hurried out of the tent and in the direction of my sister, my baffled guards surrounding me quickly as I tried to catch up to Minaimîr. I sent a mental warning to Ereinion about her imminent arrival once I realised where she was heading.
I entered the main pavilion of my husband's camp to find the answer to my sister's strange behaviour.

Once Minaimîr had Glorfindel in her sights, she marched up to him and grabbed hold of his arm and said bluntly, "You. Bed. NOW."
"Oh," I murmured, stepping aside so that Minaimîr could drag a bewildered and blushing Glorfindel out of the tent. The guards either side of the tent door held the flap open just long enough for me to see my sister and her husband hurrying in the direction of their tent.
I looked back at the somewhat shocked gathering of my husband and his council. "Was that…?" I bit my lip, regretting having started to ask such a personal question.
"Aye," Elrond confirmed. That the person who had explained the 'nature of Elves' to us said it, I knew that he had understood my question and was equally answering it.
I struggled to control my expression as I tried desperately to suppress a giggle and a blush at the same time. Instead I looked down and chewed on my lip, my eyes almost watering with the effort. Ereinion strolled over and shielded me from the others in the tent, sparing me some of the embarrassment. I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face in his shoulder (which was a little uncomfortable, what with his armour and all).
Someone entered the tent behind me. "Oh, not another one!" Serkewen blurted out in frustration. Startled, I turned around as she surveyed at Ereinion and I. Serkewen held Ereinion's gaze. "There's been a sudden outbreak of married Elven women desiring their husbands-" Ah! So there is a 'nice' way of putting it…I still prefer the term Minaimîr and I invented for it though – 'horny week'. Serkewen continued. "For the ones who are not currently in bed with their husbands, they are becoming increasingly aggravated and it will not be long until they go in search of their husbands as well – but there is nowhere for the couples to go! Such private rooms as we knew of are all taken by now." She eyed my blushing cheeks and looked back up to my husband. "You'd better get her to your tent before she starts-"
"I'm FINE!" I replied a little more loudly than I intended. Calming down so that I could prove my point, I continued on in a more measured tone, "I am only here because I followed my sister out of concern that she was behaving so strangely. I wish someone had told us before of the symptoms she was having…her snippy mood might have made more sense then."
Serkewen raised an eyebrow, first at me then Ereinion.
"I think it would be best if you were to wait in our tent anyway," Ereinion decided at last. "I will send someone to inform Narwanár where you have gone and that you will not be able to assist him for the rest of the day. I am sure Sadoriel has something else she would like to teach you."
I resisted the urge to sigh aloud as Berialagor escorted me out of the tent. To this day, I'm not quite sure why he did that. I would have been perfectly fine going back to Narwanár and continuing on with my paper shuffling. He knew I was not in the least bit danger of having my 'horny week' since I was already pregnant at that point. Maybe it was so that everyone would think it was a 'just in case' sort of situation.

Regardless of reason, sitting on the bed in my husband's tent, even with Berialagor and Sadoriel for company, is a boring occupation of anyone's time. There's no news or gossip, no usefulness in anything I do. There's nothing to do and nothing in particular that we can discuss to take my mind of the bizarre situation in which every married Elf-woman in the camp suddenly has her 'horny week', excepting the one who was already pregnant – me.
Sadoriel was trying to engage my interest in practising my grasp on the Elvish language, but having my concentration divided in two places became too much and I began to feel rather light-headed. Sadoriel quickly noticed that I wasn't going to be distracted and instead, lead me to my bed and lay me down, retrieving my comb so that she could brush my hair.
Slowly, I drifted off into a restless sort of sleep that lasted only until Ereinion entered the room to take me to the dining tent.
With gossip travelling faster than a crossbow bolt, I pretended not to see the disappointed looks on the faces of the soldiers when they saw that I wasn't in the midst of my 'horny week'. I overheard one Elf trying to reassure his companion that it must be my youth that prevented me from sudden 'outbreak' which had suddenly affected every other married female Elf in the camps.
The rest of that week passed in a series of small interesting events. I continued to help Narwanár with the paper shuffling involved in dealing with supplies. I heard from several others, mostly my husband, of Minaimîr's frequent interruptions whenever Glorfindel somehow managed to escape her clutches. Ereinion tried to hide his amusement, because – as I had already instinctively known – it's impolite to laugh at an Elf during her 'horny week' because she's not very much in control of her actions, but I could tell he was finding it quite funny. I hoped my own 'horny week', whenever it comes after my child is born, would not be quite as embarrassing. Minaimîr can get away with it, but as Queen I'm supposed to be a little more…composed, regardless of the situation.

The next incidence of small interest, however, landed at my door, with myself being thrown unwillingly into the spotlight. I'm rather embarrassed about it, so I'll cut straight to the point. I fainted in the dining tent.

I don't recall what happened next as even my usual gift of Sight failed me. When I awoke, I was no longer in the dining tent, but being carried by Berialagor and my sister Minaimîr. "Let me sit," I said in a weary voice as I slowly regained full consciousness.
"You alright?" I heard Minaimîr say as they helped me into the study room and then to sit on Ereinion's chair. I know she said something as well, but I couldn't grasp her words. "…we can't have everyone worried about our queen now, can we?"
"Thanks," I murmured, more out of habit than because I knew what she'd said. I know that it might have been something to reassure me though.
By the time I was starting to feel a little more like myself, Elrond arrived with a bowl of water, which Sadoriel took from him and placed on the desk. Using a cloth, Sadoriel immediately started dabbing the cool water on my face and neck.
"Tell me what happened," Elrond commanded quietly.
It was Minaimîr who answered him. "She passed out on the table. She'd been a bit dizzy about ten minutes before that, but I'd convinced her to get something to eat."
Elrond nodded as he stepped in front of me and felt my forehead with his hand. It made me think of the number of times my mother had done that while I was a child. I pushed the thought aside before I could be overcome with homesickness again.
"There's no sign of a fever," he concluded. He gently tilted my head upwards, gently searching for a bump or bruise on my head with his hands and eyes. "And there's no head wounds…" He placed a hand on each of my cheeks and held my head steady as he looked into my eyes and concentrated.
After a moment, he blinked and I saw the hidden surprise that his eyes betrayed but his face did not. I don't know how, but it suddenly occurred to me that he had just discovered that I was pregnant.
He stood up straight and turned to my sister. "Lady Minaimîr, please fetch the High King."
"I would rather not leave her-" she began hotly.
Elrond's voice was a little more firm but still calm as he interrupted her. "Please, Minaimîr. This is a task only you can undertake. I would send Berialagor, but I fear she has already been given orders not to leave the queen's side for any reason."
Minaimîr seemed a little stunned by that, but she understood and immediately gave a nod of her head. "Ok. Don't worry, Fe," she added to me, just before she left. "I'll be right back."

I couldn't help smiling at my sister's concern. I was now feeling well again, if only a bit nervous that now someone else apart from Ereinion and myself knew about my pregnancy.
We waited in silence until my sister returned with my husband. The only infringement on the silence was my sigh. Elrond looked at me, his face unreadable.

To occupy my boredom, I searched for Ereinion with my mind. It seemed Minaimîr had met up with him on his way here. Not that it surprised me that my husband had known I fainted. I think Elrond's just discovered our little secret, I warned Ereinion.
Though Ereinion did not reply, I felt his mental acknowledgement all the same. He seemed a bit grim, as well for some reason.

"Elrond?" he queried the moment he stepped into the study.
Elrond was quick to reassure him that I was not in any danger. "It was a minor fainting spell, but it was not caused by fever or poison."
"Then what caused it?" Ereinion asked. I noticed that he was keeping a carefully neutral expression, far more than usual.
Elrond took a deep breath and said softly, so that everyone had to move closer to hear him, "You may want to sit down, my Lord."
Ereinion nodded, as Elrond confirmed our suspicions. "Then it happened because Anórmír is pregnant," my husband surmised.
Elrond seemed just as shocked as Berialagor and Minaimîr were to hear him say it. "You already knew," Elrond accused.
Ereinion and I exchanged small smiles as we reached to clasp our hands together. "Anórmír informed me soon after she conceived – not long before her vision about the last battle."
Berialagor seemed palest upon hearing that news. "So…the High Queen was already pregnant when-" she broke off to moisten her dry lips and throat. "-when we crossed to King Thranduil's camp?" Her question implied that she wished to know whether I was already with child at the time that I was injured by orcs.
"Aye," Ereinion said gravely. Berialagor's expression became one of anguish.
Not knowing how to alleviate Berialagor's sense of failure, I added softly, "'Tis a boy."
Elrond seemed to shift between joy and sadness. My sister, however, looked like she was about to faint herself. Instead, she settled for letting her legs buckle beneath her, bringing her abruptly to ground level.
"You must speak of this to no one," Ereinion warned them all. "Anórmír and I will inform those who need to know about her condition. But if the Enemy were to find out…"
"I get the picture," Minaimîr assured him, as though his warning had been intentionally directed at her. I wished I could have told her that he had been generally speaking in regards to his caution.
"Should I arrange for the High Queen's departure?" Berialagor asked Ereinion. Her shame at not having protected me from all harm, seemed only to have doubled since finding out that I was 'knocked up' at the time.
"Departure?" I repeated in alarm.
"No." Ereinion said firmly. "Anórmír must stay."
"Anórmír must have her husband's support in bearing the child," Elrond sighed in agreement. I could tell by his tone of voice that I would later face him in argument when he judged that the benefits of Ereinion's support were not as great as the danger I would be in if I were to remain. But for the moment, Elrond was on my side and I would be grateful for his aid. "Anórmír is too young to be trying to sustain both the body and spirit of the babe without Gil-galad's strength to help her. She would fade and die before the babe could be delivered, if we were to send her away now."

Eeeep! I think someone might have forgotten to mention that to me beforehand!

With that clarified, I felt fear grip my heart. I'd already been nervous about the idea of having to be separated from Ereinion before I was pregnant, but now it was almost as though an internal panic had set in that was simply waiting until it was definite that I had to go before becoming visible to anyone else.
Ereinion lifted my hand and lightly kissed it in reassurance. You need not fear. I will allow nothing to cause you any harm.
"It will be impossible to hide for very long," Berialagor advised. "The soldiers already watch the Queen closely for any sign that she might be with child. Any change we make to the Queen's activities are bound to attract attention and speculation, not to mention that in time her pregnancy will become obvious."
Ereinion inclined his head in acknowledgement. He bowed his head, thinking.
"I can write to Lady Tinnulin, requesting gowns of a looser style for the Queen to wear that would help to hide the Queen's abdomen as it grows," Sadoriel put forward. "I am sure I can come up with plausible reason for the request to Lady Tinnulin. The only problem would be coming up with a reason for the soldiers to hear about the Queen's sudden change of wardrobe. It would help if her activities could be stated as a reason, if anyone can come up with a suggestion."
Ereinion nodded in agreement. "Anórmír will have to stop her war lessons," he added. "If we fill in that time with something else, it will gather less notice if she no longer wears tunics and breeches."
I couldn't help noticing the sudden relief he felt upon saying that. I was annoyed that he had finally gotten his way, since I had just been getting good enough to actually join the battles. All those lessons with Sadoriel had helped me to keep control of my expressions however, and I kept my face to a carefully neutral expression.
With a sigh, I suggested, "More lady lessons? Perhaps fill some of the time in with more lessons in reading and writing the Elvish tongues? If anyone asks, tell them that I was worried that I wasn't learning how to be a proper Queen or something. It's only a small stretch of the truth."
I found myself subjected to sympathetic smiles from not only my husband, but Elrond, Sadoriel and Berialagor as well. They knew only too well that I had been thrust into this position with little warning and without the knowledge of how to 'play the part' appropriately. On several occasions when I had been speaking to each of them privately, they had all reassured me that I was doing well. No matter what they said though, I was all too aware that I wasn't quite what was expected and that I had a lot to live up to as Ereinion's bride and Queen.
Ereinion kissed my hand again. He knew exactly what I was feeling at that moment and I could sense his pride as well. He had not truly wanted to be King, particularly not since it had meant the deaths of his grandfather, father and uncle that made him King. He had accepted it nonetheless, and for love of him, I would do the same. Ereinion cherished the strength I showed each day to stand up beside him.
"Yes, that would be best. You could also work more with Narwanár, I know how much work he gets. Narwanár's former apprentice was in charge of decoding messages that we steal from our enemies, and since you have shown a great aptitude for quick-learning, I imagine you would do well in that position. Even without the war lessons, you will find your days every bit as occupied as before." He smiled at me.
In recent weeks, he'd given up the idea of trying to send me to the healers – I was much better at organising and writing than I had been at healing, and I had enjoyed my work as the quartermaster's assistant. It had surprised Ereinion but he had quickly accepted the truth of the matter and encouraged me to persist in my studies and duties therein.
Ereinion suddenly became grim and stern as he added, "I am going to insist that you rest when you need to and not to push yourself. It will not be good for the baby or for your own health. I give Berialagor and Sadoriel full leave to recall you to our tent for rest and relaxation if they think that you need it."
Berialagor and Sadoriel nodded keenly. I had little doubt that they would indeed use that authority to its fullest if I wasn't careful. My acting skills needed a bit more polishing if I was going to fool those two…
"Elrond," Ereinion turned to his herald. "Once a week, I would like you to come here under the guise of needing to discuss a matter with me, but in truth I would like you to check up on Anórmír's progress and make sure both she and the baby are well."
Elrond bowed solemnly. "Of course, my Lord."
Since everything seemed to be decided, I glanced at Rhiannon who still hadn't gotten to her feet yet. "I recommend that Minaimîr has a glass of water before she attempts to leave, lest Glorfindel think we have neglected her," I said.
Everyone smiled, Rhiannon's smile slightly goofy and lop-sided. Elrond and Sadoriel helped her to her feet, before we all dispersed to begin our assigned tasks.

Ereinion smoothly eased me out of fighting lessons, which wasn't hard considering the amount of work the quartermaster had to deal with. My grasp of Elvish improved out of sight, especially since Sadoriel helped to educate me more in my spare time, often deciding that practising Elvish would be better for me than continuing lady lessons (mostly on days where I was feeling irritable).
Sadoriel's request to Lady Tinnulin came through and before it became apparent to all that their wish for an heir had been granted, I switched to wearing the flowing gowns that helped to hide any evidence of my pregnancy.

I want it noted that Ereinion liked when I began wearing those dresses too. It meant that I no longer wore tunics or breeches, but was always dressed in beautiful gowns, because of which Sadoriel insisted I must wear just a hint of make up as well. I argued with her that I was already going to look out of place in the gown when we were surrounded by warriors, but Sadoriel merely raised an eyebrow at me and gestured to the chair.
"Sit," she said simply. I swear I never knew what an iron will my usually gentle lady-in-waiting had. "I will not have people thinking that our Queen is not being properly cared for by her handmaiden."
I felt very sour at hearing that. It didn't help that Berialagor was trying desperately not to crack a smile in the background.
Nevertheless, I grew used to it and even felt as though it helped to create the mask of serenity that I was always supposed to show to everyone. This was especially useful when I was feeling miserable.

The weeks rolled by and my stomach soon had an undeniable bulge to it. It was hard not to press a hand to my belly to remind myself that I wasn't just dreaming it all. I think Narwanár might have suspected the truth after he caught me rubbing my stomach slightly one time. He and I both acted like nothing had happened, but it was clear by the smile I saw flittered across his face as he turned away and the relief in his eyes that he had figured out why I might be doing that. He never said anything to me, and I knew that we could trust him not to say anything to anyone else. I did inform Ereinion just in case though.
Rhiannon also discovered some unexpected events, least of which was an ability to control lightning. Remind me not to annoy her. I'd hate to be on the receiving end of one of those bolts…

I was five months pregnant as humans count months, when the call for battle sounded. Narwanár and I looked up briefly from our work, exchanged grim glances and then continued writing. There was nothing I could do to help them.
Narwanár finished what he was writing before coming over to my small desk. "My Lady," he greeted. "I'm going to go and see what the situation is for supplies in Thranduil's camp. If they need something, we'll have to request additional supplies on top of what we've already asked for from Lindon."
I nodded. Since the incident in which I had warned Thranduil of the imminent attack upon his camp in particular, he had become considerably more co-operative with the rest of the Alliance.

So it was that Narwanár was absent when a young healer came to obtain more bandages and herbs that we had stocked in our tent adjoining our 'office'.
"Both the northern and southern healing stations have run out of bandages," the healer explained, panting.
I dropped what I was doing immediately and guided her to the supplies where she rattled off a list of items needed. By the time I had finished gathering everything, there was enough for several trips already to each healing tent.
"I'll go to the southern healing station, you go to the northern one," I directed, picking up a bag and stuffing bandages and herb jars into it.
Berialagor, who had been silently keeping standing guard over me until that point, protested. "My Lady, it would not-"
I spun around and glared her. "There's no time. I will be quick and it's well within our camp," I reminded her, perhaps a bit rudely. I softened my expression. "Please Berialagor."
As the other healer left to accomplish her own task, Berialagor closed her eyes and turned her face skyward. "Elbereth help me," she sighed. She opened her eyes and turned to me. "It is not my place to stand in my Lady's way unless she is walking into deliberate danger."
I flashed my protector a grin and grabbed the bag I had filled, hastily jogging out of the tent and in the direction of my destination, Berialagor just a step behind me. My other four guards were quick to catch up and surround us.

The first trip to the healing station was uneventful. So was the second. The third trip, even though there at least another two of those trips that I needed to make, ended up being the last.
I was halfway there when I heard an awful voice in the air, just a murmur…a whisper that I alone could hear. "Anórmír," that terrible voice said.
It was so disconcerting that I halted abruptly, and shuddered violently for a moment. When the feeling passed, I gasped for breath.
"My Lady?" Berialagor queried, putting a hand on my back in reassurance.
I looked up at Barad-dûr and froze in fear. For an instant I thought I saw the face of Sauron's helmet at one of the topmost windows, but it was gone so quickly that I couldn't be sure. I couldn't move though.
I saw without really seeing the trebuchet launch its contents, the blazing ball of flame reaching over the battles and headed straight…for us.
I remember hearing one of my guards yell and then felt myself being suddenly and forcibly propelled forward. I do not know why, but I cannot remember how far we got out of the path of the flaming boulder before it hit the ground. I only have vague recollections of the moment of impact itself. After that, I lapsed into complete unconsciousness.

It seems that something happened in that incident that let my mind wander in the present where my body could not. My next memory was seeing that orcs had somehow gotten a hold of my body and were carrying it towards Barad-dûr, whilst trying to fend off the Alliance and also trying not to let it be obvious that I was in their possession.
The horror of that particular situation drove me into unconsciousness again, as my mind desperately told my body to fight back even though it seemed my conscious mind was not currently attached...
I confess I do not entirely understand what was happening or why.

Later, I remember seeing Ereinion return to the command pavilion with his commanders and there was Narwanár, standing with his head bowed and his face grim.

"Your Majesty," he half-greeted, half-apologised.
"Narwanár," Ereinion said in surprise. But then I felt Ereinion connect his uneasiness to Narwanár's appearance in the command pavilion. "Is Anórmír well?"
"I do not know, sire," Narwanár admitted, wincing slightly. "I left her in our office while I went to check supplies elsewhere and when I returned she was gone…"
Ereinion's expression became grim. "What else do you know of the situation?"
"I came to understand that the Queen was transporting healing supplies to the southern healing station of our camp, sire," Narwanár reported. "Only after the second time, she never arrived with the third load. The young healer I spoke to said that undoubtedly the Queen had come back and taken with her another load of supplies. But after the healer finished her run to the northern station, there were still two more loads left, so she took them and learnt what I have told you."
"What of Anórmír's guards?" Ereinion demanded.
"I have heard nothing of her guards, neither sight nor word of them has reached me," Narwanár confessed.
At that moment, Tereva entered the tent, her face pale and concerned. "My Lords…" she began, but stopped uncertain of what to say. Seeing the quartermaster she murmured anxiously, "Dear Elbereth, Narwanár please tell me that the Queen is safe?"
The eyes of every commander there opened wide in fear.
"Tell me what you know," Ereinion requested, disguising his own fears well. I could feel the icicles of fear stabbing into his heart.
"Four of the Queen's guards have appeared in our healing tent, seriously injured," Tereva informed them solemnly. "A fifth is dead, burned and crushed to death."
Ereinion closed his eyes and clenched his fists. When he opened them, he turned to Elrond and Narwanár. "Find her," he ordered them in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

It was at that point that I slowly became aware that my mind was most definitely still attached to my body, even if I was able to see things quite some distance away at the same moment that it was happening.
My body felt weak…and heavy. I tried moving, but found that I couldn't. As my mind became accustomed to being back in its rightful place, I realised that I was trapped underneath something heavy. Wriggling my arm up to my head and touching the object along the way, I was able to form a mental picture of what it was without even having to open my eyes.

I was trapped underneath the corpse of an orc.