Hi everyone! I tried not to have such a long delay this time, but things got a little away from me. This is more or less a filler chapter. The wedding festivities will be covered in the next two. Please let me know if there is anything you think I should include or if you have any ideas for customs in Minas Tirith! I hope you enjoy this!
Chapter Eleven (Aragorn)
My head was pounding viciously and sunlight poured onto my bed.
"The King is awake," Damrod said, rising to his feet quickly.
I waved him away. "Do not alert anyone that I am awake." I gingerly raised myself on an elbow and saw the goblet of water sitting next to my bed. I knew I did not have the foresight to put it there the night before. And then I remembered that Mareke had accompanied me to my bedroom and would have been the only who would have thought to do such a thing. While Damrod was fairly decent at his job, he did not yet have my needs mastered to where I would not have to ask for what I wanted.
"Have a cold bath run for me," I ordered, as I reached for the goblet and drained its contents before setting it back down. I did not usually talk to him so uncourteously, but my mood was foul.
I eventually gathered the energy to move, though even the slightest shuffling walk brought more agony. Groaning, I submerged myself in the frigid bath and felt my muscles tighten even more than they were already.
"Your Majesty," Damrod's voice broke into the peace I had found. The cold water had ridded me of my headache and fogginess. "You will be late to your council meeting," he said quietly.
"I am not going," I said, keeping my eyes closed.
"Pardon?"
"I said I am not going. You can send a messenger to the council chambers to tell them that the meeting will be rescheduled."
"What reason should I give them, Sire?"
"I thought that as the King I did not have to give a reason," I said shortly.
"You do not," Damrod responded quickly. "It will be taken care of."
"Damrod," I said, as I heard him making his exit. "Have breakfast sent for. Eggs, toast, bacon. Everything."
"As you wish."
I was sure I was confusing the poor boy. I normally ate a piece of fruit at best in the mornings and I had never once missed a meeting no matter how foul my mood or how I had grumbled about them in the past. I was flipping the rigid structure I had created on its head.
As I laid with my head resting on the edge of the tub, allowing the cool water to sap the remaining effects of my overindulgence away from the night before, a picture floated through my mind of Mareke reaching out and removing my crown and then gently brushing the flattened hair from my forehead.
I had snapped at her, told her I was not a child, when all she was trying to do was make me comfortable in the best way she knew how, as a mother.
Many of the women I had been presented with before she had come to Minas Tirith would have been at best irritated by my display the previous night, if not downright disgusted, but Mareke had stayed near to me, offered her literal support as I stumbled around and allowed my veiled insults and sour mood to bounce off of her.
"Find out where Princess Mareke is," I told Damrod as I came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around my waist.
"Of course, Your Majesty." He sent several servants out of the room to locate the woman, as I changed for the day and poured myself another goblet of water.
My breakfast was brought to me where I had seated myself at a small table, away from the sunlight. There was a chill in the spring air and I sat staring at the fire as I consumed everything before me.
"The Princess is in the nursery with her son," Damrod said as he came into view silently.
I nodded. "Very good. That is all I will be needing for now."
When I was through with my breakfast I stood and made my way down the corridor to the Queen's chambers and the nursery attached there. The clanking of the armor of the guards that followed me grated on my nerves and I motioned for them to stay posted outside the doors to Mareke's chambers as I entered.
I had not puzzled out what exactly it was that I wanted to say to her just yet, but I knocked on the nursery door regardless.
"Come in," her voice called through the door.
I pushed on it and came upon quite the playful scene. Adnan was positioning little carved men and horses around a block structure that his mother was working diligently on.
My attention was drawn immediately to Mareke and just how young she looked sitting on the floor in an act of play with her son.
There was still a smile playing on her lips when she looked up to greet me. She went to stand, but I gestured for her to remain where she was and I joined her on the floor.
She gave me another smile. "You are looking more chipper than I thought you might this morning, Aragorn."
I gave a light laugh, though I still felt guilty for my behavior the night before. "Someone was kind enough to have the foresight to aid my recovery today," I responded.
"It was nothing," she said quietly, turning back to the project at hand.
"What are you building?" I asked.
"A make believe city," she replied.
"Where men practice with swords and ride horses and that is all!" Adnan exclaimed. He had two such men in his small hands and they were viciously going at one another with the wooden swords extending from their hands.
"And you are the chief architect?" I asked Mareke.
She laughed. "I am the only one with enough focus to see that the city itself is actually built. If I do not complete my task there will be no fortress to defend."
"You cannot defend a fortress without mumakil!" Adnan said in exasperation, giving up the fighting men.
"Mumakil?" I asked. I knew what he was referring to. I had seen the huge creatures charging across Pelennor field. I had felt the earth shudder beneath my feet. I refrained from telling the boy that the side that had won the War had had no such animals on our side. "Hmm. I will see what I can do."
Adnan's eyes brightened at the prospect of new toys with which to simulate a battle.
I picked up one of the wooden horses and ran my fingers over the smooth workmanship. "I came here to apologize for my words and actions last night," I said quietly so as to not draw Adnan's attention to our conversation. He had gone back to training his tiny soldiers.
"Think nothing of it," Mareke replied. "Last night was stressful for all involved."
"That is no excuse," I said, keeping my eyes focused on the intricately carved mane of the stallion in my hand. "There was no reason to speak to you so harshly. None of this is your fault."
"And none of it is yours either, Aragorn," she assured me. "We have been unthinking in our words and actions towards each other, but I believe that means that we can only improve from here."
My eyes finally sought out her face. I wondered if her maturity stemmed from her being a mother or a woman who had seen much too much of the cruelty our world had to offer. I imagined it was a mixture of both. I gave another gentle smile, thinking that I was more than fortunate in having chosen this woman than one of the dozens of others who did not know how the world worked and who cared for nothing but themselves and the jewels they might wear as Queen.
"Thank you for your understanding."
Mareke gave her attention back to building the wall around the city. My curiosity got the better of me as I still sat next to her watching her so easily integrate into the playful nature of her son.
"And whose birthday will we be celebrating next?" I asked, hoping it was a smooth enough transition.
"Adnan will be four on the summer solstice," she replied, not taking her eyes from her project. Mareke was carefully building up a watch tower in the center of the city.
"Well we will have to have a feast in honor of that occasion."
"It seems we will be doing quite a lot of feasting between the wedding and birthdays." She put the final block on her tower and turned her attention back to me.
"And when is yours so I can alert the cooks?" I asked with a jesting smile.
"November second," she responded. "And before you can rudely ask a woman's age, I will just tell you that I will be twenty and four."
The conversation dwindled at that point. Mareke was extremely young. I had not been able to discern her exact age since she arrived. She seemed much older and even looked older than she said she was. Sorrow could do that to a person.
I tried to think of myself at her age. When I had twenty-four years I was still a child, little older than Adnan, but when I thought to myself when I had been physically closer to Mareke's age I had been much happier than she.
At that point, I had met and promised my love to Arwen and had taken over my rightful role as the Cheiftain of the Dunedain. I had been in love, leading a people I admired, finding solace in the wild, guarding the Shire.
My parents had passed away, but I had been so young that I could not have experienced the raw grief of losing a loved one I might have understood as an adult. Those were some of the happiest times of my life. Just looking at Mareke, I knew that the same could not be said for her. I had no idea what it must feel like to be so desolate and alone at such a young age. With so much of your life stretching before her, did she have anything to look forward to or did she fear despair would be her constant companion. At her age, I had thought my future held nothing but brilliance.
"Are you alright?" She asked, taking notice of my distracted silence.
"Just planning birthday celebrations."
"Nothing too overdone, please," she requested.
"It will be completely tasteful," I promised. I went to stand up. "Apparently once you reach the ripe old age of eighty-eight you can no longer sit on the floor for extended periods."
Mareke laughed out loud and reached a hand up for me to pull her to her feet.
"What will Adnan do without his architect?" I asked, as we walked to the nursery window that overlooked the private gardens.
"Tear my structure down within the hour."
I laughed. "I fear he is all boy."
Mareke did not respond, but instead stood at my side, in her own turn falling into a silence.
"You will live a great deal longer than me," she said. It was not a question, but a statement.
I had not thought about that. With Arwen it was always going to be me who passed on first, but because I had not married an Elf or even a woman with the blood of Numenor in her veins, it would be Mareke who would go first. It had been more important to my council to make a strategic match than to ensure that the line of Kings would always possess long life.
"Unless some accident befalls me, I suppose that is the case."
Before she could respond, Adnan had hurried up and grabbed onto her skirts and her attention was diverted.
"Mama, I am starving," he said dramatically.
"Starving?" She replied. "You just ate breakfast!"
He gave her a desperate look and I had to refrain from chuckling. Apparently, it only encouraged children.
"You may have a piece of fruit to tide you over until lunch with Legolas." She took his hand and led him back into her sitting room where there was a bowl of fruit on the low table before the sofa.
Adnan chose a large red apple and bit into it, juice running down his dark chin.
"Do you not have some sort of kingly business to be attending to?" Mareke asked as she took a seat on the sofa and pulled Adnan onto her lap.
"Oh forgive me," I said quickly. "If I am disturbing your morning, I will leave."
She actually laughed. "I forget that everything in your court is some sort of game. I was not masking my actual thoughts, but just asking about your schedule."
"Ah yes, I also forget that you are not from here and are much more straightforward than anyone else I encounter in a given day. I actually cancelled my meeting this morning. I was not quite feeling up to it. And I realized that I am in fact the King and can make such a decision if I so please."
"You are truly growing into the role."
I could tell she was jesting and I was grateful for her light-heartedness despite what she was dealing with. I kept thinking back to what the morning's encounter might have been like with anyone else who was both less understanding and less mature.
"I do have some business to attend to, though I am quite enjoying the sanctuary of your rooms."
"A fortress of my own," she replied as Adnan leapt off her lap. "Legolas will be here soon for your lesson. We should get you dressed."
I had not even noticed that Adnan had been running around in his knee length sleeping shirt.
"You will probably want to excuse yourself before you are subjected to the high pitched screaming that brushing his hair results in. You would think that I am a master of torture."
I stood, ruffling Adnan's curls as he ran by me, dodging his mother's hands. "That might come in useful at some point. I will keep it in mind."
Smiling once more, I removed myself from Mareke's rooms.
ooooOoooo
A month passed and the wedding was looming nearer and nearer. Guests would begin arriving from all over Arda very shortly and my fate would be sealed.
There was still one thing that needed my attention before I could relax a little.
I caught Gimli and Adnan as they entered the palace after a long lesson on who knew what. I had a feeling that Gimli's lessons mostly revolved around telling the boy stories of his adventures and perhaps teaching him some about weaponry. They sometimes came back sweaty and worn out, so it seemed that there were some demonstrations involved as well.
"Strider!" Adnan exclaimed. He ran towards me and I caught him as he leapt into my arms.
Gimli chuckled at the display. "And to think that you were the best warrior I had ever seen."
"A man can be many things on any given day," I replied, as I situated Adnan so he was on my back, hands clinging onto my shoulders.
"So it would seem," he continued to smile as we made our way through the palace. People still stared whenever Adnan and I were together, they still sneered if I held him, but I was growing used to it and there were many who did not. I was grateful for the younger advisors and citizens of my city. They were very much in support of the Haradrim Wedding as it was coming to be called and many of them faced the open opposition to my match with outspokenness in its favor.
"I need a favor, Gimli."
"You mean you need another favor," he responded. "The first was giving that lad there lessons."
"That is true, but I am not sure which of you is getting more from the lessons, you or him."
Gimli spluttered, trying to argue that it was most certainly the boy and then I was the one laughing.
"Very well. I need another favor."
I held the door open and let Gimli enter my study before me and then I sat down with Adnan on my lap, while the Dwarf sat across from us.
"I need a wedding gift for Mareke."
"I assume you have come to me because it will be a jewel of some sort?" He asked, leaning forward and pulling a blank piece of parchment and a quill towards him.
"It is the only thing I can think of and from the few pieces of your work you have already given her, she seems very taken with your craftsmanship."
Gimli nodded, but I could see him smiling under his beard from the praise. "Rings are traditionally given, are they not?"
"They are," I agreed. "I want you to find the darkest stone you have. Black as night if possible."
I rambled on and Gimli sketched on the parchment, listening intently to what I was describing. After a few moments he slid the parchment to me for my approval.
The stone would be an oval set in three delicate bands of mithril intertwining with one another.
"And to think you were one of the best warriors I knew," I said with a grin, returning his line. "And you've become a designer of jewels."
"Only in times of peace, I can assure you."
"It is beautiful. I only hope I have given you enough time."
"Do not fret. It will be done."
I nodded. Adnan was restless on my lap. "Should we go and find your mother?"
He nodded excitedly. The boy, after lessons, was always eager to return to Mareke and I marvelled at the strength of their bond.
ooooOoooo
"This was rather impromptu," Mareke said as she entered my chambers.
"I thought we might have a relaxing evening away from Adnan's constant energy. I fear you do not get those often enough."
I had invited the Princess to join me in my chambers for dinner. Whenever we shared a meal it was always in her chambers and even though Adnan shared many of his own meals with the boys his own age, he was often with us.
"A change of scenery never hurts."
"I would not want them too often," she replied. I was afraid she had missed the thought behind my plans.
"Of course not," I said quickly. "I hope you have not mistaken my meaning."
"No. It is a wonderful gesture," she said. Mareke was not yet a very skilled courtesan and I feared that there was always a divide between what was in her mind and what she said aloud.
"Can I offer you a goblet of wine?" I asked, trying to change the subject.
"That would be lovely," she agreed as she took a seat on the sofa in front of the fire.
"We will not need to have a fire lit every moment of the day soon enough," I promised. The early spring chill was turning into warmth and soon the summer heat would return. "Perhaps you might feel more at home when summer arrives."
She gave a doubtful snort. "You have not felt heat until you have travelled to Harad."
"I hope to someday." I handed her the goblet of wine and sat next to her with my own in hand. I caught her glancing at the goblet briefly, even though she did not mean for me to. "I promise I will be on better behavior this time."
"It is none of my business," she replied with a shrug.
"It is not? I was under the impression we were to be married soon," I said, trying to sound as though I were jesting, but something about her aloof attitude alarmed me.
"I am not sure what that has to do with whether you overindulge or underindulge." Mareke brought the goblet to her full lips and took a delicate sip.
"I would not think you would want a husband who is constantly overindulging or partaking in any other vices, would you?" I raised an eyebrow.
"What would that have to do with me?" She returned, her dark eyes looking into mine curiously.
"Why are you here?"
"You invited me to have dinner with you," Mareke said, her voice laced with confusion.
"No. Why are you in Minas Tirith?"
She shook her head and her curls bounced. "I am truly lost as to where this conversation has gone, Aragorn. What do you mean why am I in Minas Tirith? To marry you of course."
"You just seem so resigned to whatever husband fate might have brought you."
"I did not realize there was another option."
I sighed. "There is always another option."
"Only for some," she replied.
"If this is so disagreeable to you, why did you agree to this marriage?" I asked quickly.
"You act as though I had a choice. How beautiful to have the freedom of a man. I was told that I would be uprooting mine and my son's lives to live in Minas Tirith and would marry the King of Gondor of Arnor." She stood and moved to the small table and poured herself another goblet of wine. There was a flush that was barely discernible on her dark cheeks. "I did not fight the arrangement because this is probably the most worthwhile agenda I can take part in. As a woman, I can not ride off to battle to protect my people, but I can do as my father asked and marry a man who can offer protection and assistance to my people who desperately need it."
Mareke turned back to look at me and once more her dark eyes seemed to be ablaze.
Her voice had grown stronger as she had spoken and I could sense what an important role her home had played in shaping her into the woman who stood before me.
"You would go so far into the unknown to make sure that your people had a better chance? Even if it cost you greatly?"
"If it means that they will not starve and that we will not have to send our young boys and elderly men to defend the Realm from those who would think to take control while we are weakened, then I would do it a thousand times over."
Her face softened as she looked at me. I was not overjoyed to hear her speaking of our impending marriage as though it were a duty. Though I was being very idiotic and idealistic indeed. Of course it was a duty. We were not some shopkeeper's daughter and lowly soldier. We had not met and fallen in love. We had been forced together and would be forced to be together until one or the other of us perished. My heart was not breaking because she was stating that she did not love me. I certainly did not love her. Mareke had sharp, jagged edges and a quick tongue that I was unaccustomed to in a woman.
"And what does that mean for our marriage? We put on a show for the people, conceive an heir and a spare, and then behind closed doors go our separate ways?"
Mareke sat back down beside me. "Oh I hope not," she said genuinely. "I hope we can be friends. I know I could stand to have a friend in this place." She looked deep into my eyes. "I did not mean to imply that I am miserable here, Aragorn. I am sorry if that is how you understood it."
Mareke had been resistant to me touching her, but I risked her annoyance and reached out to cover the dark hand that lay in her lap with my own. "I could also use a friend."
"And truly Adnan has become too taken with you. It would be very difficult for me to be cold or distant from you with him around," she said, a smile playing on her full lips.
I was surprised by my own laughter. I pulled her hand to my lips and kissed the back gently. "Well I will keep him around constantly if he will ensure you goodwill towards me."
There you go! I hope you at least liked it! Please let me know what you thought! I have gotten a lot of inspiration from the ideas of some of my readers for this fic. It's been really helpful! Feel free to give me your ideas!
Happy reading,
Avonmora