I know I didn't update last week, like I told my reviewers I would and there's no excuse. I was a little stuck and waiting for inspiration to strike, which it luckily did! I hope you enjoy it. I enjoyed writing this update.

Chapter Seven (Aragorn)

I had been stirred from my haze of apathy after having dinner with Mareke the night of her forced transformation into the perfect Gondoran Queen. That night, I had seen the pain in her eyes at being separated from her son. It was obvious that they were never separated for more than a few hours, let alone the span of the day that had been forced upon them both.

Mareke was an adult, but her son was not even four years old. He knew no one besides his mother and he had woken up one day and she had not been there. I had been shocked upon seeing the transformation of Mareke's appearance. I could not begin to fathom what the little boy thought of his mother when he was finally able to see her for a few moments.

I had been irritated by the customs that were thrown my way upon taking the throne. I did not care for them and found them stifling, but I was a grown man as well and I had known, somewhat, what to expect. Adnan must have been terrified and that turned my irritation into blatant anger. Changes would have to be made and I would be the one who would have to make them. I was the only one who could.

My wedding to the Princess of Harad was fast approaching. I mused upon what could be done then to show a large group of my people that things were going to be different under my rule.

No one living in Minas Tirith then had ever lived under a King. It had been nine hundred and sixty-nine years since the last King, Earnur had ruled. Stewards had taken over in the interim. In my mind, I had every right to make changes. I was being subjected to what seemed like a million and three different rules, but those rules had applied to Stewards and their courts. Things were going to be different.

I summoned Legolas and Damrod to my study. "What plans have been made for the wedding?" I asked, fingers templed and pressed against my lips.

Damrod looked at me curiously. "Practically everything is prepared, Your Majesty, I can assure you."

"I am not worried about that," I replied.

"Then what are we here for?" Legolas asked. As my personal friend, he was able to be a bit more bold than Damrod.

"I am tired of these stuffy customs and binding ways that have been handed down from Steward's court to Steward's court."

Damrod was wringing his hands nervously. "Your Majesty?"

I was silent for a moment. "I am not sure exactly what I have in mind just yet, but I want everything to be different. All of the plans that have been laid for this wedding can be scrapped."

"Scrapped!?" Damrod yelped.

Legolas was merely standing to the young man's side, smiling.

"Yes. They can be done away with."

"Your Majesty, I must say this is quite sudden and I am not sure what can be done at this point," Damrod stammered.

"I am sure it will be a challenge, but you are quite resourceful." I looked over my fingers at my young assistant. "Perhaps you can start with the music. If I have to sit through one more feast with the court musicians playing what sounds like funeral music I will pitch my crown across the hall."

Legolas tried to stifle laughter.

"Surely there are more lively musicians in the city. This is a wedding after all. I do not want our soon to be Queen feeling like we are in mourning at her arrival."

Damrod nodded. "Very well, Sire. I will see what I can arrange." He bowed low and left Legolas and I alone.

"I cannot say I am displeased by this change in your attitude, Aragorn, but what is the reasoning behind it?"

I sighed. "Nearly a week ago, I had a private dinner with Mareke and she had been completely changed. Her clothes were different and I believe she had layers of makeup on. She was not the young woman who had come seeking our help. Adnan had been sent to tutors for an entire day. It was terrible."

Legolas nodded. "I understand."

"I have hated what has been done to me upon taking over the rule of Gondor, but seeing it done to a lonely little boy was too much to bear. And when I sat down to mull it over, I realized that as the King, I am the only person who can make such changes."

My friend raised an appreciative eyebrow. "I have missed you, mellon. Please let me know what I can do to help."

"As you can tell, I have not actually thought this through."

Legolas laughed. "Yes I can see that. But we have enough time. It will come together beautifully."

"I hope so."

"I will find out what has been planned and what can reasonably be changed and report back," Legolas said, heading for the door.

When it closed behind him, I rested my head in my hands. I was taking on something huge. Traditions in Gondor had stood for almost ten centuries the way they were and I intended to knock quite a few of them completely to the ground.

I regained my composure and sent for Mareke and Lady Ioreth, who would surely be one of my biggest adversaries.

"Your Majesty," they both said as they entered the room, curtsying. My eyes were on Mareke and her movements. They were stiff and ungraceful and when she straightened she pressed a hand to her stomach.

"Please, have a seat ladies."

They did as I bid. Mareke sat rod straight. The garment truly allowed for no movement.

"I have been in discussion with some of my attendants about making changes to the upcoming wedding ceremony and festivities."

"Your Majesty?" Lady Ioreth looked personally scandalized.

"Since taking the throne, several things about Minas Tirith have seemed quite stuffy. Do you not agree, Lady Ioreth?"

She shrugged. "I do not know, Sire. They have worked for many many years in the past."

I nodded. "Yes well, as the new King I am finding some things hard to adjust to after living the life I have. I would like to see my court a bit more lively and open and what better time to promote that ideology than at my wedding to Princess Mareke."

Lady Ioreth looked as though I had reached across my desk and slapped her face. Mareke sat absolutely still and silent, dumbstruck.

After a few long moments of silence, Lady Ioreth regained hold of herself. "I am here to serve the Princess and of course yourself, Your Majesty. I will be happy to assist in whatever way you wish."

She looked as though assisting me was the last thing she wanted to do. Lady Ioreth was a product of living in Minas Tirith under the Stewards for her entire life. Her face was visibly pulled back from the tightness of her bun, her makeup expertly applied, and her posture completely perfect. I had thought that it would be hard to find someone to help Mareke in Gondor, but Lady Ioreth had practically volunteered for the position, more than willing to transform someone so different into the perfect Queen of Gondor.

"Excellent. I have been thinking of how out of place Mareke looks in her new wardrobe. She looked much more natural and comfortable when she arrived here from Harad."

Lady Ioreth's face fell. She could tell where I was headed.

"I am sure you already have a splendid wedding gown for the Princess, but if it is anything like what she has been wearing recently, I think we should make some alterations."

"Alterations?" Lady Ioreth's face began turning red. "Your Majesty, it is the most magnificent gown I have ever seen. It is truly fit for a Queen of Gondor. In all my years, none of the Stewards' wives had anything so grand."

"Then there is no doubt in my mind that something can be put together that will be just as grand in another style."

Lady Ioreth struggled for words and then remembered that she was in front of the King. "Very well, Sire. I will see what I can do."

"Thank you, Lady Ioreth. You may leave us."

I waited to speak until the door was shut soundly behind the older woman.

"You have been quiet, Mareke," I said, a smile playing on my lips.

"That is not exactly what I thought I was being called into your office for," she replied.

"Was this an unsatisfactory turn of events?" I inquired.

"Not at all. Though I never thought that you would take such an interest in clothing, I must say."

"Neither did I. You are lucky your discomfort is so evident on your face when you are wearing our clothes or I might never have given it a thought."

Mareke laughed. "I tried to hide it."

"Was the wedding gown terrible?" I asked.

"A monstrosity," Mareke agreed, being a little more free with her criticism than she had been since arriving.

"Perhaps you could blend our cultures," I mused.

Mareke thought for a moment. "I am no good with a needle, but my lady that I brought from Harad, Oyna, is extraordinary. I have no doubt that she could put something together."

I nodded. "See to it then. And perhaps see if she could help our cooks with different recipes for the feast."

Mareke actually allowed herself to smile, but then faltered.

"This will cause great backlash from your people. I do not want you to take that one just because I am here. I knew that things would be different. I had prepared myself to deal with it."

I stood and walked to the window, my back to her. "Well apparently I was not so prepared. I should have taken this challenge on when I first took the throne, but I did not. It is long past due." I paused and then turned to look at her. "I do not want you to think that this is your doing or your fault."

Mareke nodded.

I said no more and she left, giving another painful looking curtsy.

ooooOoooo

A little over a week later, wedding plans had been rearranged and were seemingly being taken care of with the highest secrecy. I wanted no one complaining and protesting before the ceremony and I wanted them shocked into silence on the day of the wedding so I did not have to hear it.

I summoned Gimli and Legolas to my study, where I was taking a break and lounging on the sofa, smoking one of the rare pipes I had time for. I had seen that things would change for Mareke, but her son weighed heavily on my mind.

"Did you spend your childhoods locked up in stone walls listening to the droning of tutors?" I asked them when they were settled in chairs opposite me.

"Of course not!" Gimli exclaimed roughly. "Mine was spent exploring and working in the mines. I got most of my lessons from history to logistics at the feet of my father when he talked to the men around him. I barely had any formal lessons."

I glanced at Legolas.

"I cannot say that I did. I practically lived outdoors. I read everything I could get my hands on and spent a good deal of time with my own father before I learned everything else by joining the guard. Why are you asking?"

"I am not sure that Prince Adnan has seen the sun since he first arrived. I find that problematic."

What Gimli and Legolas had said of their childhoods reflected mine in Rivendell. My lessons had not been lectures. I had learned almost everything informally. I knew I did not have the time to keep Adnan with me constantly, but I had two very good men with me in Minas Tirith that would be very beneficial to the boy.

"He is only three after all," I added.

I sat up straighter and looked at my friends. "I was wondering if you two might be willing to help me?"

"I thought that is what we were here for," Gimli replied.

"I hate to think of that little boy trapped in those rooms all day every day. That is no way to raise an upstanding young man."

"Not at all," Gimli agreed. Legolas waited to hear my request patiently.

"Perhaps the three of us could take on the majority of his education while you are both here."

Gimli spluttered a little. "I have never taught a child!"

"You said yourself that you did not learn at the hands of a teacher, but at the hands of the men around you. Adnan is far from his home and what remains of his family. Does that not make us the men around him?" I asked.

Gimli was still searching for the words.

"It does," Legolas agreed.

"What are we supposed to teach him?" Gimli demanded.

"As I said, he is but three. He will absorb anything and everything outside of the stuffy walls of his classroom." I turned to Legolas. "He is still trying to learn Sindarin, which you obviously speak very well. Perhaps it would be more exciting for him to learn the language in a more hands on manner than sitting at a desk and reciting what the tutor feeds to him."
Legolas gave his gentle smile. "I would be happy to do that."

"And Gimli, you know more about history than anyone I know. You can tell stories about everything. Perhaps your stories of battles and celebrations will stick with him more than the words off of crumbling old parchment."

Gimli beamed in pride. "I suppose I could do that."

"There will be no more well-rounded boy in Minas Tirith if he learns from all of us, if I do say so myself."

"Does his mother know of this plan?" Gimli asked, trying to keep his excitement in check.

"Not yet, but I cannot imagine that she will protest. This way she will get to spend more time with him. She has much to teach him as well." I stood and stretched. "But I will ask her this afternoon as I am going to treat him to his first lesson in swordplay."

Gimli looked a bit crestfallen. "Do not worry, my friend. You can teach him all you know about battle and strategy from your firsthand experience as well."

I headed for the door after sending a servant to clear a practice field for Adnan and myself.

"Thank you for your willingness to assist in this matter. It is crucial in my plan to upheave all of Minas Tirith's restraining traditions."

The two laughed as I left and headed for Mareke's chambers. Adnan had said he had been able to bring his wooden sword from Harad and I was hoping she could find it for me.

I found her in the room where her desk was. She was sitting up straight, a quill moving across the parchment in front of her, but to me it looked as though she was doodling and not actually writing anything.

"Oh, Your Majesty!" Lady Ioreth stood quickly, surprised by my unexpected arrival. I could tell that she enjoyed the rigidness of a strict schedule.

"Mareke, might I borrow you for a moment?" I asked, when she had stood and straightened herself.

"Of course. Excuse us," she said to Lady Ioreth. I think we both took some pleasure in shutting the door on the severe woman.

"What can I help you with, Aragorn?" She asked as we moved across her sitting room towards Adnan's bedroom.

"I was hoping you might be able to help me find your son's wooden sword," I said.

Mareke arched a dark brow at me. "His sword?"

I nodded uncertainly. "He said he brought one with him from Harad." I was hesitant to say that he had said his father had had it made for him.

"He did. I have seen it. I am confused as to why you need it, though I suppose it is not my place to question your wants and needs."

"Question away," I responded with a smile.

"Why exactly do you need his sword? He is with his tutors right now."

"I know he is, but that also has to end. I have an idea to present to you that I have been working out."
"Go on," Mareke replied hesitantly.

"I would like to place Adnan with new tutors if you are alright with that."

"New tutors? I thought he was already with the best tutors your city has to offer."

"I suppose that depends on how you rate such things." I took her gently by the arm and sat her down on the edge of a sofa. "I have been talking with Gimli and Legolas and we all agreed that the way Adnan is learning is the most terrible of ways to learn and he will suffer for it as he grows older." I looked into her very dark eyes. "I want the best for your son and so I want to radicalize, if you will, his education."

Mareke looked as though she was struggling to comprehend what I was saying. "Radicalize?"

"In a manner of speaking yes. The three of us learned from the men we were around most when we were young. Very little of our time was spent in formal lessons. Adnan has the privilege to be around a very unique group of men who could teach him much about this world and its history, not to mention the normal things a man of his rank will need to know."

"I must admit," she began. "It sounds wonderful. Nothing would make me happier than for him to be out of those rooms. It is not healthy for a child."

I shook my head. "You are absolutely right. So starting right now, Adnan will spend very little of his time with his formal tutors. He will learn Sindarin from Legolas, history and whatever else he decides to tell the boy will come from Gimli, and I will keep him with me for a portion of time every other day so that he will one day grow to be a great asset to the throne of Gondor. Of course, this will mean that he will get to spend much more time with you. I do not want him to forget his heritage and personal history and I am afraid the tutors are helping him already to forget it. No one can teach him more about that than you."

Tears welled in Mareke's eyes.

"Do not cry!" I exclaimed. "If you do not like this plan it does not have to be."

She shook her head and wiped at her eyes. "No, I love your plan. I am crying because I am so grateful that you even care about him, let alone to this extent."

I chuckled. "I have a soft spot for children, but keep that to yourself. I am a King. I have a reputation to uphold."

Mareke laughed even as she sniffled. "Your secret is safe with me." She stood. "I will find his sword for you."

"Do not worry," I said. "I will make sure that Lady Ioreth and Lady Belethiel know of our new arrangement."

I walked down the short corridor to where Adnan was with his tutors. The door was open a crack and I pushed it open without anyone noticing for a moment. The poor boy had his head resting on his hand and I imagined he could barely stay awake after hours of the insufferable droning of the old tutor.

Finally, I cleared my throat. Adnan turned quicker than I had imagined he would in his hazy state.

"Strider!" He exclaimed, jumping from his seat.

"Your Majesty," the tutor said, bowing so low his beard practically grazed the floor.

I kept the sword hidden behind my back.

"What can Prince Adnan and I do for you, Sire?" The old man asked.

"I was hoping to take the Prince for the afternoon," I said evenly.

"Your Majesty, of course, but we are in the middle of a lesson," the man replied careful to watch his tone.

"I can see that," I replied. "I am sure you will be able to resume presently." They were appeasing words, when I knew that Adnan would rarely see his formal tutor after that very afternoon.

Adnan was looking hopefully up at me, surely seeing me as the hero who could rescue him from his boredom.

"Very well, Sire," the man said.

"Come Adnan," I said, reaching my free hand out for his. Without hesitation, he slipped his small, soft hand into mine.

When we were out of earshot of the tutor, I pulled his sword into view.

"Where did you find that?" He gasped.

"Your mother helped me," I explained. "I told you I would teach you how to use it and so we are going to have our first lesson."

"Truly?"

"Truly," I repeated, leading him down to the training fields again. "I have reserved one of the fields just for us and we will come down here at least once a week."

"What about lessons?" He asked, eyes wide, as I pushed open a gate into one of the practice circles.

"I have decided to change your education a bit if that is alright with you."

"I do not mind at all," he said with a huge smile.

I went into the small outbuilding on the edge of the circle and began rummaging through trying to find a wooden sword for myself that was suitable. The guards I had brought with me tried to help, but I waved them away. One would think that being a King made me completely incapable of completing any task on my own.

"Good. After our lesson you will meet a couple of my friends who will be other tutors of yours now."

The boy was practically bursting with excitement when I emerged with my own sword.

"Today we are going to practice your grip," I began.

For the next hour, over and over again, my hands covered the child's correcting the proper grip for each swing so that it would stick in his mind.

Adnan truly gave it all he had, but when the hour came to a close I could see the exhaustion on his face.

"That was good work, lad!" I heard Gimli call.

I turned to find him and Legolas standing at the fence to the training circle.

Adnan gave the most tired of smiles. "Thank you."

"Prince Adnan, I would like to introduce you to your other tutors. This is Legolas," I gestured at the Elf. "He will be helping you with your Sindarin." I turned to Gimli. "And this is Gimli. He will teach you a little of everything, history, strategy, whatever you'd like to know, Gimli already does."

"Well met, Prince Adnan," Legolas said gently.

Adnan stared in awe at both the Elf and the Dwarf. I imagined he had never seen either being before.

"Today though, it looks as though you have tired yourself out too much for more lessons," I said. He reached for my hand once more and the four of us began to climb our way back to the highest level.

After we had climbed a few, Adnan was lagging behind, a constant pull on my arm. I did not wish to overstep my bounds with him. He was huffing and puffing and I knew he was worn out.

"I can carry you if you like," I said quietly to him. The boy studied me for a moment and then gave me a nod.

I hefted his weight up and settled him on my hip. I could feel eyes on me and I turned to see Legolas' staring at me with a benign smile.

It was the only friendly look I received. My people had learned of the Haradrim princess' arrival and most were not pleased. When they saw me carrying her son through the city I received only looks of contempt and disgust, but I ignored them. I kept my eyes straight ahead. It was another difficulty that I would have to work through, but not right then.

"We will see you tomorrow, lad," Gimli said to Adnan as we parted ways so I could take him back to his mother.

When I came into her rooms, I found her reading the history of Gondor I had brought her when she first arrived. She sat the book down and began to rise. I gestured for her to remain seated and as gently as I could deposited her exhausted son into her arms, taking a seat next to them.

"Are you ready to take on an army, my son?" She asked, with a light laugh.

Adnan buried his head in her neck and she ran her fingers through his damp, raven curls.

"We are working on it," I said.

The prince moved his head onto her shoulder and gave me a drowsy smile while Mareke continued to stroke his hair, pressing kisses to his temple.

"My little warrior," she whispered as he his eyes finally surrendered and closed.

With the hand that was not cradling her son she reached out and squeezed mine. "Thank you so much."

I hope you loved it! You guys are being so awesome with all of your detailed reviews! I am absolutely thrilled by what you're telling me. So please review this update, let me know what you thought. I'm not afraid of a little constructive criticism and I love to hear any ideas that you have or what you want to see happen with these characters.

Happy reading,

Avonmora