I have no good excuses for my lack of posting except a complete lack of creativity and motivation. I've made this update extra long in an attempt to apologize. Enjoy!

Chapter Forty-One (Mareke)

I clung to my eldest son much to his irritation. He knew nothing of what had passed between his grandmother and I before her departure and so he was utterly confused by my behavior.

When we all ate together, though I could not stomach any of the food. Aragorn had to handle Arathorn and he was growing more and more accepting of his father, but he still reached for me until he realized I would not take him onto my lap. I was listless at meals, thinking that the ones we had left together were numbered. I watched Adnan's every move at that time of day especially. Perhaps it was because he had always enjoyed mealtimes so much that I was especially saddened then. Dinner was especially difficult as it was right before he would go to bed and be out of my sight for hours.

Oftentimes I would get out of bed late at night just to go into his room and look at him, to make sure he was still there.

I also followed him to the stables, the practice rings, his archery targets in the garden. Sometimes I brought Arathorn, but most often it was just me.

Watching his lessons, I remembered his entire life. We had hardly been separated. That train of thought would lead me to confronting the vast expanse of time that was more than likely approaching when he would be away from me for indeterminate stretches of time.

When I reached that conclusion over and over again, I had to stand and move around. My breath would go shallow, my stomach would churn, and my vision blurred around the edges.

"Mareke," someone said gently as I paced aimlessly around the ring where Adnan was having a swordplay lesson.

I tried to pull myself from my despair. When I did, Aragorn was before me, worry on his face.

He often came to watch Adnan's lessons when he could get away from his study and his council, but we had not run into each other since my mother had left.

My husband was still sleeping in our chambers and from the outside everything seemed normal. However, I could not stop associating him with the demise of my brother. We barely spoke and I only put on a semblance of a front for the sake of my sons.

He grasped my upper arms when he knew I would try to avoid him.

"You look pale and there is a wild look in your eyes, as though you were trapped," he said quietly.

"I am," I hissed, trying to get out of his hold.

Rather than cause a scene in front of Adnan, he released me. I stepped around him and went back into the palace.

Trapped. I thought about it as I continued my pacing in my bedchambers. That was exactly what I was. By being married to Aragorn I could not return to Harad with Adnan. I would be forced to stay and watch him leave.

"Mama," Arathorn cooed happily as Lady Belethiel let him into my chambers. I waved her away as he toddled towards me. I scooped my youngest up and onto my hip.

Never before had I felt so torn.

After a while of my pacing, Arathorn stopped babbling at me and rested his head on my shoulder.

Lady Belethiel had given him his lunch and so we went into his nursery and settled into the rocking chair.

He was already asleep, but I rocked him for a long while anyways.

I loved Arathorn fiercely just as I loved Adnan. It was so difficult because I was facing the rest of my life with my heart torn in two. Never again would we be able to enjoy being settled in one place together.

I stared down at my youngest son and my heart surged with love for him. He had gotten so big. It seemed as though only a few months prior he had been my tiny infant in his swaddling clothes. With every day he looked more and more like Aragorn. He was hardly any darker than his father, his hair was much lighter than mine and when his eyes were opened they were a striking grey.

His long eyelashes rested on his plump, pink cheeks. He turned in my arms, tucking his fist under his cheek. I continued to rock and pat his bottom even though I long ago could have put him in his crib.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I did not hear the door open. Only when Aragorn reached down and took Arathorn from my arms was I brought out of my trance. My husband did not say a word as he gently laid Arathorn in his crib and pulled me to my feet. He drew me out of the nursery and closed the door gingerly before he turned to me.

"This has to stop, Mareke." He tried to take my hands, but I put them behind my back.

Aragorn's face hardened a bit when I continued to not let him touch me.

My husband was nothing if not determined and so he cupped either side of my face. "You are not eating, you are not sleeping," he sighed.

I did not move away from him.

"Mareke," he repeated my name and I could see the desperation in his eyes. He moved me over to stand before a mirror and I tried not to look, but he held my chin in place and I had no choice. It was as though I was another one of his children.

"If Adnan is truly to leave us, is this how you want him to remember this time? His mother looking gaunt and haunting his steps everywhere he goes?"

I did look terrible. My skin was sallow and there were bags under my eyes. My cheek bones and collarbone were more pronounced than usual and I seemed to be swimming in my dress.

A tear slipped down my cheek as I stared at my reflection.

"Come now," he murmured, turning me in his arms and wiping the tears away with the rough pads of his thumbs. "It does not have to be like this. We can enjoy this time with our son."

"There should not be 'this time.' This should never have been our reality."

"You have spoken of Adnan going back to Harad since you both arrived in Minas Tirith," Aragorn countered. "You knew we would face this one day. The people would not let your brother rule."

"But you hastened his departure along with your brashness!" I exclaimed.

Aragorn sighed and rubbed a hand over his drawn face. "Do you truly fault me for my rage and the urge to protect you?"

"Yes!" I looked up at him indignantly. "You should have left me there. If you had done that, we would not be in this position."

"If I had done that, you would have died and your father would have taken Adnan right back into your brothers' arms!" By then Aragorn was shouting just as loud as I was. "And neither of our sons would have a mother. I would not have a wife."

"I wish I had not been offered to you all of those years ago," I said stonily.

Aragorn's face went hard, his posture stiffened, and he pulled his hands away from where they rested on my upper arms as though my very flesh had burnt him. Before he could say anything, I stepped around him and went into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me so loudly I heard Arathorn wailing in his nursery, but I threw myself on my bed and let his father tend to him.

ooooOoooo

In the days following our argument, Aragorn was icy to me for the first time in our marriage. Before, he had been attempting to speak with me and make me feel better about the situation, but after my harsh words he barely pretended in front of the children.

He used the excuse of being bogged down in his work, but before had had always tried to join us for breakfast or dinner if not both, but he rarely joined us after the argument.

Adnan spoke of Aragorn making appearances at his lessons so I knew he could not be as busy as he said he was.

I had made a real effort to allow Adnan the independence from me that he had garnered as he grew up. As a result, he was more eager to talk to me after his long, full days.

Arathorn and I began to go to the orphanage again as I had let the habit lapse in my obsession with spending every waking moment with my eldest.

The little girls there took great amusement in the Crown Prince. I assured them that they could handle him just as they would any other toddler. It took a while, as it had with Adnan and the young boys who lived there, but eventually they learned they would not be punished or scolded for handling my son.

Oftentimes, he could be found toddling around the orphanage with a little dress over his shirt and breeches, having been dressed up like a doll by the excitable girls.

I had to swear our loyal guards to secrecy as I knew Aragorn's council and the nobility of MInas Tirith would not find it nearly as amusing as I did.

One day when Arathron and I had returned from the orphanage and Adnan was having lunch with us after his morning lessons, Damrod interrupted my son's chattering about archery with Legolas.

"The King requests your presence in the entrance hall, Your Majesty," the young man said after a low bow.

Lady Belethiel stood as I did and took Arathorn from my arms. I said nothing to Adnan even though I could hear him trailing me. I was too lost in thought and my worries.

When I emerged into the entrance hall, two older Haradrim men stood before Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli.

Both of them bowed deeply to me as I approached.

"What is this?" I asked, looking the men over before looking up at my husband.

"We have been sent by King Hashad," one said in heavily accented Sindarin. The other held a rolled piece of parchment out to me.

I scanned it quickly and I knew that Aragorn was reading it over my shoulder.

My father had sent tutors.

"What is going on, Mama?" Adnan asked nervously, looking between me and the newcomers that had been sent by his grandfather.

I could not speak. The parchment had fallen limply to my side.

"Your grandfather thinks it is time you received some Haradrim tutoring," Aragorn said gently, ruffling the boy's unruly curls.

I took a step toward the two men from my home. "You may do the jobs you have been sent to do, but you will say nothing to my son about becoming the Crown Prince. Am I understood?" I asked in a deadly whisper.

"Yes, Your Majesty," they responded at the same time.

I turned on my heel and left. My mind was racing as I returned to my rooms. My father's letter had not mentioned my brother. He had said that Adnan needed to have tutors from his own Realm no matter what and so I assumed Na'man still lived.

ooooOoooo

I felt as though I were drowning everytime I sent Adnan to his Haradrim tutors. Of course I wanted him to know his heritage and culture and history, but there was now an end goal to such lessons and that was to mold him into a future King of Harad.

As I sat on a sofa one evening, listening to Adnan read to me from a children's book Legolas had given to him, I could only think how much of a child he was. He was not yet eight years old. THere was still some baby fat on his face, he got overly excited about certain sweet treats, and he could not always focus when I told him to do something. He was not ready to train to be a king.

I stroked his curls as he struggled through the book. His grasp on the Sindarin letters had gotten much better, but I feared that learning how to read and write in his native language might hinder progress on both fronts.

The door to our chambers opened. When I glanced over the back of the sofa, Aragorn was entering much earlier than he had been in the two months since our argument.

Without a word, he sat on a chair across from Adnan and I and listened as our son finished the story. He laid his head on my shoulder, proud of himself.

"That was wonderful," I murmured, kissing the crown of his head.

"Very good indeed," Aragorn agreed. "Do you think you can see yourself off to bed?"

Adnan nodded and stood, kissing my cheek and hugging Aragorn before he went on his way to change into his pajamas and tuck himself in.

I looked at Aragorn expectantly. We had not been alone in months.

"I am not sure what I want to say to you exactly, Mareke," he said quietly.

I had thought of our argument frequently and realized that in the aftermath, I had left myself with no one to turn to, but my pride had not allowed me to apologize. There was no one else besides Aragorn who understood what I was going through, no one else who was losing a child to another Realm. I knew he felt as though Adnan was his own son, but I had not allowed us to grieve or work together.

"You broke my heart," he finally said. "When you spoke of regretting our entire marriage." Aragorn looked away from me as his eyes welled. "It has been a very long time since I have felt so hurt."

I could not speak. My husband stared into the fire that was roaring in the grate.

"All I want to do is to be here for you," he said, still not looking at me. "But you have pushed me away and forced us to suffer on our own." He drug his gray eyes back to mine. "What I have done to make you so cold?"

"Aragorn," I began, but he held up a hand.

"I took you and Adnan in when you were in danger. I knocked down customs and traditions so you would both be more comfortable and happy. I have been like a father to that boy. Yet you want to blame me for this situation and act as though you are the only one who is devastated by this turn of events." He stood and stared down at me. "His departure will destroy me as well, but you want to face it alone and I can think of nothing crueler."

I tried to speak, but found I had no words, only tears in my eyes.

"I have arranged for you and the boys to spend some time in Ithilien with Faramir and Eowyn. They are expecting you in a month."

Without another word he left me sitting before the fire alone, tears rolling down my cheeks.

ooooOoooo

In the month leading up to our departure to Ithilien, Aragorn made it abundantly clear that he had no desire to see me. I was too afraid to apologize to him even though I desperately wanted to reconcile before I left.

Not often had I seen Aragorn so emotional. It caused the selfish haze around me to subside and realize the hurt I had caused.

On the morning of our departure, Aragorn was helping Adnan saddle Fahall for the half day journey. I found myself smiling as I could hear him giving gentle corrections.

Once Adnan was mounted, Aragorn straightened and took Arathorn from my arms without a word.

I mounted as well and reached for my youngest as Aragorn pressed a cheek to his soft cheek.

"Take care of our sons," Aragorn said, squeezing Arathorn's booted foot, not looking at me.

"I will," I whispered.

I did not want to leave. I wanted to take our sons and hide away in our chambers, but I had ruined any chance of that happening.

Without anything else being exchanged between us, Adnan and our guards led us out of the stables. I had tucked Arathorn tightly in his own cloak and then wrapped him in mine so only his face could be seen.

The ride was quiet for me. Arathorn chattered and I responded, but I was morose.

When we arrived, Faramir and Eowyn both came out to greet my sons and I. Adnan hugged Eowyn tightly and then we were ushered inside among a flurry of greetings.

"I am so happy you are here!" Eowyn exclaimed, pulling me against her side.

I tried to smile as we moved through the corridors and to the room I would share with both of the boys.

Eowyn took quick notice of my silence and lack of enthusiasm.

"We should speak privately after you have rested. Faramir can entertain the boys."

I nodded, knowing I might feel better if I could speak to someone.

After Eowyn left us, I followed the boys into our room and found that lunch had been set out for us. Both boys made their way to the table and I let Arathorn sit on my lap, but I could not take a bite.

I felt sick thinking of the last few interactions I had had with my husband, especially the cold manner in which we had parted that very morning.

When Adnan was through eating, he looked up at me.

"Is something the matter, Mama?" he asked, raising a dark eyebrow. Aragorn had told me that he looked just like me when he had picked up the habit.

I was constantly reminded that my eldest was extremely intuitive and he only grew more so as he aged.

I shook my head. "No, everything is fine."

Adnan studied me for a moment longer and I had to question who was the parent.

That afternoon Arathron took a nap and Adnan and I did some reading in front of the fire together. He improved every time he picked up a book it seemed. I was impressed at how far the little boy who could barely string the Sindarin alphabet together had come. I still worried what grasping another language would do to that progress.

Arathorn slept for a long while after the morning's journey and finally I woke him so he would still go to bed at a decent hour that night.

Before dinner there was a knock at the door and I bid a servant to enter.

"If it pleases your Majesty, the princes have been invited to have dinner with the Steward and his son," the woman said after a deep curtsy.

"Of course," I said with a smile. I knew it was Eowyn's roundabout way of summoning me.

Arathorn fussed until I firmly told him that he would be going with his brother. My youngest was not often around children his own age so I hoped that being around Elboron might be a refreshing change of pace for him.

When they had left with the servant and their guards, I made my way to Faramir and Eowyn's chambers. From memory, I wound around until I was in the nursery.

Eowyn sat rocking the newest addition to their family, the few weeks old Finduilas. There was a pang in my heart at seeing the infant, but I tried to push those feelings away.

"She is beautiful, Eowyn," I said quietly, stepping into the room.

Eowyn began to rise, but I motioned for her to stay sitting.

"May I?" I asked, reaching for the bundle.

"Of course," she agreed, handing her daughter to me.

"I would exchange pleasantries with you, Mareke, but I can sense something is the matter."

I sighed.

"It must be. I cannot imagine that this is where you want to be," she continued.

I shook my head. "Eowyn, I am beyond happy for you."

The pale woman continued to look at me. "I know this hurts you, Mareke. Why are you here?"

I had to look away from her searching gaze. Unfortunately, that meant I was looking down at the tiny babe in my arms. When I looked at her, I could not help but think of the child I had lost who would have only been a few months older than Finduilas.

"I was sent away," I whispered, allowing myself to touch the babe's soft cheek with the back of my fingers.

"By whom?" Eowyn demanded, seemingly wanting to come to my rescue.

"Aragorn," I said, looking back up at her.

She spluttered, confused. "What do you mean? What happened?"

I explained our situation to Eowyn. Trying not to cry, I told her how it seemed that Adnan would be summoned to Harad to be my people's Crown Prince. I spared no details of how I had treated Aragorn after receiving the news. There was no justification for my behavior and I had no right to attempt to flatter myself.

"Of course it was not his fault. I spoke harshly out of anger and fear to the one person who might possibly understand what I am feeling."

Eowyn was silent for a long moment,surely shocked by how ungratefully I had acted towards Aragorn.

"I do not deserve half of what he has done for me," I said miserably.

"Of course you do," Eowyn said quickly. "This is an extremely trying situation." She shook her head. "I cannot imagine facing the prospect of being parted from either of my children."

"But you would not lash out at Faramir if you were."

"Who is to say I would not? I have never experienced such a thing."

I was grateful for her fairness, but my heart still ached thinking of my actions and how I had parted from Aragorn.

"What am I going to do?"

Eowyn took a deep breath. "You are going to stay here and gather yourself for a few days at the very least, spend time with your sons away from the court, and then you will go home and speak with your husband."

"You make it sound so simple," I sighed.

"It is," she replied with a soft smile. Her eyes grew fierce though. "And I would tell your father that while he remains in good health, Adnan will remain with you for a few more years at the very least."

I had not thought about that and I did not have time to discuss it with her further as Faramir and all three boys came pouring into the nursery.

Elboron quickly took the opportunity to clamber onto his mother's lap as I was sure it had not been free often of late.

I tilted Finduilas so that my sons could see the tiny babe.

Without warning, Arathorn began to cry and pull at the skirt of my dress while also trying to shove Finduilas away.

I stood and handed the infant, who had also begun crying, to Faramir before lifting Arathorn onto my hip and taking him from the nursery.

His little body trembled in my arms as I tried to soothe him with gentle words and soft touches. Not often did I see my youngest experiencing such big emotions as he was usually stoic like his father.

When he had calmed a little, I looked down into his red rimmed, grey eyes. "What is wrong, my little love?"

"No baby, Mama," he sniffled.

It occurred to me that Arathorn had never seen me with an infant. Elboron and Marilla had both been born before him and we did not often see other children so he was used to always being the youngest in the room.

I tried not to laugh at his selfish reaction to Finduilas as it truly was not funny and boded ill for any future child I might have. At present though, it was doubtful that Aragorn would ever lie with me again.

"You are my baby," I promised him with a kiss on his forehead.

Arathorn burrowed against my chest and I took him back to our rooms.

It had been a long day of travelling and visiting with friends so it was not difficult to soothe my son to sleep.

When he was at peace, he looked so much like his father and my heart ached anew.

I wanted my husband by my side to laugh over the antics of our son together.

I stood staring at Arathorn until I heard the door to our rooms open and close.

Shutting the bedroom door behind me, I emerged to find a curious Adnan.

"What is the matter with Shuk?" he asked.

"He was just a little jealous of Finduilas. He is used to being the baby."

Adnan smirked.

"Let us not be too hasty in judging. I remember another little boy who did not much care for the idea of a new baby either."

Adnan's cheeks flushed.

"But you are glad for your brother now, are you not?"

He nodded. "Are you going to have any more babies?"

"I do not know. I cannot tell the future."

Adnan seemed to take me at face value.

"Should we send for some sweets before bed?" I asked conspiratorially.

When the servants brought us fruit tarts and chocolates, we settled on a sofa before the fire to indulge under a heavy blanket.

"What was I like as a baby?" Adnan asked.

Immediately, I was back in those first weeks and months of his life.

"You were vocal," I said with a light laugh. "You let your father and I know when you were wet, hungry, or tired." I reached over and stroked his dark curls. "But we adored you. You were quick to smile and laugh. You wanted to eat constantly. Some things have not changed."

Adnan giggled as he finished his fruit tart.

I remembered waking to his hungry cries, but before Jibran left to recruit and train men for the War I had not been allowed to rise from the bed as I healed. He had gone to the cradle, waking as many times in a night as I did despite having to wake early in the morning.

"You did everything early. You crawled, talked, walked earlier than most babies."

My son smiled proudly.

Thinking of him as an infant drew my thoughts back to his imminent departure. I pulled him against my side so he would not see the tears that welled in my eyes.

ooooOoooo

We ended up spending a week in Ithilien. Adnan was very taken with Finduilas and whenever her parents would allow him, which was often as they enjoyed the respite, he would cradle her in his arms and coo down at her, Eowyn having bolstered him in a chair with several pillows.

Arathorn had to be reassured that he was the baby in his own family every time he was in the vicinity of the infant.

Adnan also spent a great deal of time with Faramir outdoors despite the cold weather.

"My husband seems a patient man, but he yearns for Elboron to be of an age where he will be able to understand the lessons Faramir has to teach," Eowyn said as we stood at the nursery window and watched Faramir and Adnan traipse through the snow towards a wooded area.

"It is the plight of all fathers," I replied.

After the first of these adventures, Adnan came back thrilled about learning the "stealth of the Rangers of Ithilien" as he termed it.

One afternoon while Faramir and Adnan were outdoors, Eowyn and I sat in the nursery watching Elboron and Arathorn play together with blocks and wooden figurines.

I held Finduilas and stared down at her. Eowyn's gaze on me was a physical force.

"I am fine, Eowyn," I said quietly, not looking at her.

"Are you sure?"

"No."

I had held the babe several times and every time I did my heart surged with joy and love for the tiny girl and her family.

At the same time, the hole in my heart opened anew. It seemed I was addicted to the pleasure and pain the little babe brought to me.

"I am sure, though, that I do not want to talk about it. Only happy topics until we leave."

Eowyn sighed. "Very well."

ooooOoooo

I was not sure how long Aragorn had intended us to stay, but after a week we set off for Minas Tirith.

I was consumed during the entire half day journey, not even able to focus when my sons began bickering with each other, Adnan taunting his younger brother out of boredom.

Lady Belethiel had remained in Minas Tirith and so certainly the guards had to think I was an incompetent mother, unable to control her children without the aid of a nurse.

All I could think of was the reception I would be receiving from my husband.

Finally, we entered the city through Gimli's beautifully restored gateway and I thought my heart could surely be heard by those around me for it was beating so hard and fast.

Arathorn fell quickly asleep on my shoulder as Adnan and I climbed the levels to the palace.

When we got to the top, Aragorn was waiting, face stony and arms crossed over his chest.

My mouth went dry as Adnan rushed to the King, excited to tell him about his time with Faramir and baby Finduilas.

Aragorn ruffled his curls and murmured for the boy to run along to our rooms and we would be right behind him.

"Baran is here," Aragorn said quietly to me when I approached.

"What?" I asked even though I knew what it meant. It meant my brother was dead and that my brother-in-law had come to escort my eldest to Harad.

I felt Aragorn's arm slide around my waist as though he could sense that my world had shifted.

"Come to our rooms," he bid me. "I told him to remain out of sight until you were ready to see him."

I pressed my face into Aragorn's shoulder, but he kept us moving along.

"Lady Belethiel will care for the boys until otherwise noted," Aragorn said as we stepped into our chambers.

My sons' nurse stepped forward and took the sleeping Arathorn from my arms, ushering Adnan in front of her. My eldest stared up at me, knowing that I looked strange if not completely distraught.

"Come Adnan," Lady Belethiel said gently, guiding him away by his shoulder.

With my arms empty and my sons gone, I thought I might collapse.

"Mareke," Aragorn said my name tenderly as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to his chest.

My mouth opened and closed as though I were a fish; unable to make a sound.

Aragorn stroked my hair and a wave of gratitude flooded through the grief.

"I am so sorry," I whispered.

"Not now, Mareke. Now is not the time for all of that."

Tears began to pour down my cheeks. "No, Aragorn. I was absolutely terrible to you. I do not deserve you to be here right now."

"Where else could I possibly be?" he murmured.

I wrapped my arms tightly around his middle, wishing to be consumed by him.

We did not say much the rest of the afternoon. We stayed hidden away in our bedroom, allowing Lady Belethiel to look after the boys.

"We will get through this," Aragorn said as the sun was setting and we had both merely picked at our dinners. "We will get through this together. Adnan will be able to visit and you will go to Harad as often as you like."

I nodded mutely, tears making my tongue too thick to talk.

Thinking of the void that would be left in Adnan's wake, I was unable to sleep that night.

Aragorn apparently could not either as his hands were in my hair and rubbing my back, wordlessly trying to soothe me.

Eventually, he must have fallen asleep for he did not stir when I rose from our bed before the sun. I sat in front of our vanity and began to arrange my hair. I put on one of my most formal gowns, in a deep purple, and then drew out the heavy crown of the Queen of Gondor and Arnor.

"What are you doing, Mareke?" Aragorn asked, waking and propping himself of an elbow.

"I wish to see Baran."

"It is early-" he began.

"Right now."

He rose and began to dress. When he was through he sent a servant to fetch my brother-in-law.

"We have not really discussed what is to happen here," Aragorn said quietly.

"It is not necessary," I replied, donning the crown and going to meet Baran.

"I am so sorry," he said to me when I entered the room.

I held up a hand and I tried to be Eowyn. I had thought of her advice all night.

"You will return to Harad tomorrow and you will tell my father that Adnan will come to take his place among our people when he is twelve years old. If he takes issue with that he may write to me or come for his grandson himself," I said firmly, face showing no emotion. Aragorn was silent behind me. I turned on my heel to leave.

"Mareke," Baran said, alarmed.

I turned. "'Your Majesty,'" I corrected. "You will address me as 'Your Majesty.' And you will be out of Minas Tirith by sunrise tomorrow."

There you have it! I hope some of you are still left to review. I love to know what you're thinking. No hate comments or flames please.

Happy reading,

Avonmora