This was supposed to be a shorter update, but it turned out to be my longest...I'm not sure what that says about it. But anyway, thank you all so much for the follows, favorites, and reviews! You are making me want to keep writing! This fic has been such a pleasure to write because of you all! Without further ado, here you go!
Chapter Fifteen (Mareke)
"Do as your body is instructing you, Your Grace," the midwife said from her spot crouching a few paces away from the low bed. "Push when you feel the urge and rest when you do not."
The woman was very hands off, though she supervised to make sure that nothing went awry. She had assured me before the delivery that I would be fine. I was young and performing a task that women had been doing for centuries.
I had wanted to roll off of my back as soon as I had laid down and she had encouraged me to do whatever made me most comfortable.
Jibran had one arm looped around the back of my knee to offer some resistance as my body strained against itself and I curled around my stomach, squeezing my eyes closed, bearing down with all my might, until the tightening in my abdomen and back passed. I collapsed onto the pillow and felt his rough hand push back sweaty curls that were escaping the pile on top of my head.
The pains had started very early in the morning, though Jibran had already left our bed to attend to his daily duties of overseeing training practices and tactical discussions. I had not been alarmed then. I had had extensive conversations with my midwife and my mother. Delivering a child was a long process with many stages.
As the pressure slowly became pain, I pulled on a thick slip and went to the private pool that I had frequently been taking to. My condition combined with the incessant heat of my city was nearly unbearable most days and I could be found floating and paddling around at any given time of day in those last few months before the delivery. It offered some relief even as I clenched my jaw and gripped the side of the pool every time a pain seized my body. I rubbed the swollen orb that was our child and felt that it had hardened and lowered considerably more than it had in the previous few days.
"Mareke," I heard Jibran's voice before I saw him and turned from my spot along the opposite side of the pool.
He had made it a habit to check on me during the days ever since I had told him that I was expecting a child. His days were long and arduous, but that did not stop him from seeking me out to see how I was feeling during those long nine months.
"Are you alright?" He asked, pulling his breeches over his knees and sitting on the edge, letting his feet dangle in.
I swam over to him, feeling less graceful than normal, and held onto his knees. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. I could see in the lines of his face how tired he was. The whispers of War had just begun. The promise of an easy victory against the unorganized North and what that would mean for our people was very enticing to my father and husband and so they had gone to work. Jibran, though, had refused to leave the City of Serpents in order to recruit more Haradrim men until his child was born.
"The babe is on its way," I said. My voice was calm as I was in between pains.
"What?" Jibran asked, alarmed. "And you are just going for a swim?" He demanded. He stood quickly and I lost my grip on his legs.
"I feel better in here," I said shortly, reaching for the wall and looking up at him.
"The child cannot be born in the pool, Mareke," he said, walking to the steps into the pool and beckoning for me to get out.
"It has been swimming in water within me for nine months so I do not see why not," I replied, though I had no intention of having the child in the water.
I mounted the steps, feeling my body grow heavier and heavier with every step out of the pool that made me feel buoyant.
Jibran reached his hand out to help me and just as I grabbed it, the worst pain yet tore through my body and had me doubled over, clenching down on his hand with a sharp intake of breath.
"You have practically swam this child out, Your Grace," my midwife had said to me when I had finally managed to change into a dry slip and have her sent for. The examination was uncomfortable, but it let us know that there was not much more time before I could begin the work of bringing our child into the world.
"You are doing magnificent," Jibran said, stroking the inside of my thigh with the arm that was looped behind my knee, bringing it to my chest, as I once more bore down. I grunted and groaned, but had been instructed that screaming and crying out were just a waste of energy. My midwife had told me that I was not to see what my body was doing as painful, but as productive, necessary for the task at hand.
In Harad, deliveries were an intimate occasion, attended only by the mother, father and midwife, who remained at a distance unless her services, besides just instructions, became necessary. The act of bearing a child, for a woman, was considered nearly as heroic as going into battle for a man.
It was most important for the child to be welcomed into the world by those who had created it. They were to be the first to touch, clean, and feed the child.
"A few more good pushes and the child will be in your arms," the midwife observed.
I looked up at Jibran who gave me an encouraging nod. The look on his his face was tender and there was no hint of concern, as though he had all the confidence that I could finish what we had started and so I bore down as the midwife had instructed.
Jibran shifted around so that both of his hands were free and my foot was pushing against his chest.
"Support the head, General," the midwife said. She still had not come near us. The burning sensation came to a peak and then subsided and I once more slumped back on the pillows.
"One more, Mareke," Jibran murmured, not looking at me, but the child that he was ushering into the world.
With the next pain, I bore down with everything I had, but when it was over I did not fall back against the pillow, but propped myself on an elbow and looked at the wailing babe that Jibran held in his large hands. Tears streamed down my cheeks.
The midwife handed me a wet, warm cloth and a light blanket. Jibran handed the baby to me.
"It is a boy," he said, choked up, stroking the baby's head as I took him into my arms. I wiped the infant clean and then wrapped him in the light blanket. His cord was still connected as the midwife had instructed that it should completely drain of blood before being severed.
Jibran had never said a word about hoping for a specific gender, but I had known deep down that he wanted his first child to be a son, one that would follow the path he had made.
Automatically, I freed myself from my slip and without issue the greedy, hungry, wailing mouth found what it sought. I could not stop crying as I looked down at the dark haired bundle in my arms.
Jibran pressed his forehead to mine and one of his tears dropped down onto the babe's forehead.
ooooOoooo
I gasped awake, feeling as though someone had been watching me. I quickly found the culprit. Two dark eyes were peering at me from just above the edge of my bed.
"Adnan, what are you doing?" I demanded, pressing a hand to my pounding heart and propping myself on an elbow.
It was very early in the morning. There was the faintest gray light coming in through the window.
"Is it my birthday yet?" He asked as though there was no problem in waking his mother at such an hour.
"It will only be your birthday if you go to sleep for a few more hours. If you do not, it will be perpetually the day before your birthday and we will not get to celebrate." I did not feel bad for the lie. I needed much more sleep.
My son continued to stand and stare at me.
"You can sleep the rest of the night with me if you like," I said, reaching out for him.
He took my hands and hauled himself into the bed, settling under the covers, his small back pressed against my chest. After a month and a half, Adnan's arm had been declared healed and the cast had been removed. The day of his birthday, his right arm was still a bit paler than his left, but it was as functional as ever.
I began to immediately doze back off, but Adnan began chattering.
"I wonder what presents I will get later. What are we going to do today?" He asked.
"Ssshh," I murmured, moving my hand into his curls. "You will have to wait and see," I said groggily. I continued to run my fingers through his hair until his fidgeting stopped and his body went slack.
I fell back to sleep as well. When I woke next, the door to my bedroom was bumping open and when I opened my eyes, expecting to see a servant bustling around, it was the King carrying a tray full of breakfast food.
Adnan remained asleep on my arm and I realized I could not feel my hand.
"I went to his room first, but did not find him there," Aragorn whispered with a grin.
"Well if he had had his way, he would have woken you up four hours ago so the celebrating could begin," I replied, trying to free myself without waking my son.
I was unsuccessful. Upon waking, Adnan nearly leapt from my bed, but Aragorn stayed him with a look.
"You cannot have your birthday breakfast in bed if you are not in bed, now can you?" He asked.
Adnan immediately plopped back down and Aragorn brought the tray over as I stood.
I did not care about Aragorn seeing me in my nightgown. Since our wedding night, he had come regularly to my bed at night, though every time it was the same, though instead of showing his emotions any longer, he merely left as soon as he was finished with me, without a word.
He never showed any interest in my body and so I went to my closet to change for the day without him paying any attention to me.
When I came back out, Adnan had inhaled what had been brought to him and was nearly vibrating with his excitement for the day ahead.
"Well I have cleared my day for such a special occasion," Aragorn said, looking at me briefly before turning back to Adnan. "How does a birthday ride sound?"
"I can ride Brego?" He asked eagerly.
"I suppose you can if you want, but there may be a better option for you," Aragorn said and I could see the twinkle in his eyes. He had said nothing to me about the colt he and Eomer had discussed at our wedding, but I had a sneaking suspicion that that was Adnan's first birthday gift.
"Perhaps even your mother will join us?" Aragorn looked at me once more.
"Only because it is your birthday," I sighed. "Now I will have to change again." I went to head back into the closet, not looking forward to being on horseback, but I would grin and bear it for Adnan. "You cannot go riding in your sleeping shirt," I called over my shoulder. I heard him go running across the bedroom and Aragorn's chuckle trailing after him.
I came back before Adnan had finished dressing. Aragorn was standing near the window, but turned when I came back in.
"You do not have to go if you do not want to. I can handle him," Aragorn said.
"I know you can. You have proven that time and time again," I said with a gentle smile. "But seeing as it is his birthday, I cannot bow out of this ride."
"Are you angry with me?" He asked. "For taking Eomer up on his offer?"
I laughed. "Even if I am, I will not be able to keep it up. Adnan will be thrilled."
"What will I be thrilled about?" Adnan asked, sprinting back into the room. Surprisingly, his clothes matched well enough.
"You will just have to see," Aragorn said, leading us all down to the stables.
When we arrived, Aragorn lifted Adnan up under his arms and held him so he could see over the gate of one of the stalls.
The colt was larger than I had imagined and black as night.
"Is it mine?" Adnan asked, trying to scramble over the gate and into the stall.
Aragorn laughed out loud. "He is yours. My birthday gift to you."
"Thank you, Strider!" Adnan exclaimed wrapping his arms around Aragorn's neck. "Can I ride him today?"
"Of course you can!" Aragorn set my son down. "Eomer-King also sends you a gift," he said as he went to one of the tack stalls and removed a beautiful leather saddle, a bit smaller than normal.
Adnan was stunned at his gifts.
"Now come help me get your horse ready for your first ride together," Aragorn said, opening the stall door and allowing Adnan to go in before him. I watched my son stroke what he could reach of the horse.
Without warning, I grabbed Aragorn's arm tightly. "Are you sure it is safe?" I asked trying to remain calm.
"The safest," he promised with his gentle smile. "Eomer himself has been training this colt and he has been saddle broken already. The Rohirrim know what they are doing."
I nodded, not able to reply. My palms began to sweat as I watched Aragorn help Adnan to prepare his new mount for the ride.
A stablehand brought my mare out to me and I took the reins in my hand, not paying much attention.
When Adnan's new horse was saddled, I watched my son expertly mount it. The horse stayed completely still.
"Be careful, Adnan." I could barely get the words out I was so nervous.
"Peace, Mother," Aragorn said, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze before he mounted his own horse.
"Peace," I grumbled. "My just barely four-year-old is on a horse by himself." I mounted my mare less than gracefully.
"He would have at least a year on horseback under his belt if he were of the Rohirrim."
"Ah, but he is not," I replied, following Adnan who followed Aragorn out of the stables.
"What are you going to call him?" Aragorn asked, ignoring my concerns. He seemed to find them baseless.
My son seemed quite comfortable on his new gift and the horse did not seem as though it were going to charge off or do anything abrupt. My shoulders relaxed a bit.
"Fahall," Adnan replied.
I snorted. Aragorn looked over his shoulder at me. "Very original," I laughed. "It means stallion."
Aragorn grinned and then looked down at Adnan behind him. "That is quite a fitting name."
We exited the city, not onto Pelennor Field, but onto a small stretch of grass that led into a wooded area.
I could hardly breathe the whole time we were out riding. Adnan handled the horse as though he had been born to do it. Horseback lessons had been incorporated into many of his days under the strictest of guidance, but still I could not wait to return to the city, though the fresh air and new landscape was much welcomed, especially when we dismounted for lunch.
"Are you more at ease now?" Aragorn asked as he spread a blanket on the ground.
"I will be perfectly at ease when the horses are back in their stalls," I replied, digging through the basket one of the guards who had accompanied us handed me.
Adnan eagerly snatched everything from my hands and devoured the salted meats and bread before I could set them on the small plate before him.
I sighed. "You had better grab something if you want to eat before dinner," I told Aragorn, sneakily handing him a large piece of cheese wrapped in cloth. He began cutting it up and handed Adnan some as well.
It was a quiet lunch. My son was silent during two occasions and that was when he was eating or when he had finally surrendered to sleep at the end of a long day.
I sat wondering how four years had passed so quickly. It was the fourth birthday that we had celebrated without Adnan's father. When he had turned one, Jibran had been away recruiting men as he led our army north to fight for Sauron. I had pulled myself out of bed just long enough to see Adnan open his gifts, one of them magically had a tag from me, and eat the cinnamon cake he so loved on his second birthday. After that there had been no hope that it would ever be Jibran and I celebrating our son's birthday.
He looked so much like his father. I dreaded the day when his baby fat would melt away and the man I had married would stand before me, tall and broad, commanding with his very presence. I could see Jibran in the set of Adnan's eyes and the exact shade of his skin.
"Mareke!"
Aragorn was on his feet, drawing a blade from his boot.
"Mama!" Adnan screamed and lunged toward me. They had both seen something I had not and when I looked around frantically I saw that we had been joined by a dozen or so orcs. I had been blinded and deafened by my melancholy reverie.
"Get the Queen out of here!" Aragorn roared over the melee, the beasts were approaching him and his men surrounded him.
Startled into action, I jerked Adnan onto my hip and nearly threw him onto my horse. Before I mounted, I noticed Aragorn's sword strapped to Brego's saddle.
With nimble fingers, I untied it. "Aragorn!"
He turned at the sound of my voice and I hurled the sheathed blade to him. "Go! Go!" He yelled as he caught it.
Guards trailed Adan and I as we fled from the forest. Adnan was not crying, but he was riding backwards and his face was pressed against my chest. His hands had taken handfuls of my riding tunic into his fists. I had one arm wrapped tightly around him as we came flying out of the forest and towards the side entrance to the city.
I halted the horse abruptly.
"Your Majesty!" One of the guards exclaimed. "What are you doing?"
"Go back to the King," I ordered them. "I can get us to the gate. Both of you back to the King!"
They looked at me skeptically and then took off back to the woods.
My mare's hooves clattered as we thundered back through the gate and towards the stables.
As I slipped from the saddle, Adnan was still clinging to me and I rushed through the levels of the city. A few guards from the stables followed me, noticing that I had no one with me. When we finally arrived on the terrace level, I made my way to the West side where I could see the wooded area we had been picnicking in moments ago.
"Where is Strider?" Adnan whispered into my hair. During the raucous he had wrapped his fist in my curls that had fallen down, something he had done when he was very young.
"He will be here soon," I murmured not taking my eyes from the wooded area.
It was only a moment longer when the King rode out of the woods at the head of the guards. I could see one man holding his arm to his chest, but other than that they seemed unscathed.
I intercepted Aragorn at the entrance of the palace.
"Are you alright?" I asked quietly. From a quick once over, he seemed to only have a cut on his cheek.
"Fine," he said shortly, chest heaving.
"Strider," Adnan said and finally released his grip on my neck, reaching for the King.
Such a simple gesture nearly tore my heart from my chest. Every day, Adnan and Aragorn strengthened their bond and I was the only one left remembering his father.
Aragorn hefted the boy's weight onto his hip. My son reached his hand up to touch the cut.
"Adnan!" I said sharply and he quickly drew his hand back.
"He is alright," Aragorn said, running his own thumb along the cut which had already dried. "Tis just a flesh wound."
He led us back towards my chambers. The palace was already buzzing with the rumored orc attack.
"Have the head of my Western Patrol sent to me," Aragorn said quietly to a servant who was bustling around my room. I saw the look of confusion on the woman's face and I was sure she did not know who she was supposed to find. I certainly did not know who he referred to, but asking questions was not an option and she slipped out of the room.
"You are going to need a bath before your birthday dinner guests arrive," I said to Adnan who was still in Aragorn's arms, staring at the King in awe and admiration. I thought that he might need a rest after what he had just faced.
"His birthday dinner?" Aragorn asked, looking at me sharply. "Is it a good idea to continue on with that? Is Adnan up to it?"
"By tomorrow it will just be a grand adventure." If I knew anything it was that my son would not let his birthday celebrations, small as they may be, be deterred by orcs interrupting his lunch. "But if you think it best, we can cancel it."
Adnan looked at the King in alarm. "I can see that I have misspoken," Aragorn smiled at the boy. "We will have your dinner. Only if you take a bath."
The King sent another servant to fill the tub.
After a few moments, Aragorn moved with him into the bathroom and I followed. When he was on the floor, I stripped him quickly, his clothes smelled of horse and hay and little boy sweat.
"In you get," I bid my son who eagerly climbed into the warm water. I knelt by the edge of the tub, which was practically big enough for him to swim in, which he tried to do every time he had a bath.
Aragorn leaned against the counter, arms folded over his chest, not leaving us, but chuckling as he watched Adnan.
Bathing was a long process for Adnan. He made it so difficult for me to get my hands on him, only wanting to play in the water.
"He is quite comfortable in all settings it would seem. On horseback, in the water," Aragorn mused.
"We swam quite often in Harad. It is the one foolproof way to escape the heat."
"Where is Fahall?" Adnan asked, splashing me with water in his abrupt movement to gain his footing so he could look at Aragorn.
"Sit down." I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. He had stood up and faced the King in such a serious manner, though he was in all of his naked glory, water droplets running down his little brown body.
I heard Aragorn choke on his own laughter behind me. "He is safe in the stables," he replied when he had finally gotten a grip on himself.
Adnan smiled broadly. "You saved him!"
"I did," the King replied.
I took my chance to grab Adnan and massaged soap into his hair and scrubbed his body with a wet cloth.
The serving woman that Aragorn had sent on his task poked her head into the bathroom. "Your Majesty, the patrolman is here."
"Excuse me," Aragorn said curtly, any trace of a smile leaving his face.
As I dried Adnan off with a soft, fluffy towel I could hear Aragorn's raised voice in the next room.
"You are going to take a quick nap before dinner," I told Adnan. He looked at me in displeasure. "Or at least some quiet time in your room before everyone arrives. Go put some clothes on." I shooed him toward the other door of the bathroom that led to his nursery.
I quietly posted myself at the door, cracking it just enough so that I could hear better what was being said between the two men.
"Where do you think the orcs came from?" Aragorn demanded. "From the White Mountains, which I believe are on our border. Are you not the head of our border patrols?"
"I am, Your Majesty," the man stuttered and for a moment I felt bad for him.
"Then I expect you to see to it that the men under your command go into the mountains on a regular basis to monitor such things. These beasts were hungry and desperate, they cared not for the danger; completely rogue."
I had never heard Aragorn raise his voice, but he was certainly displeased with how our afternoon ride had turned out.
"I took my family out for a pleasant afternoon and instead of enjoying ourselves their lives were put in danger," his voice lowered and to me that sounded more dangerous than his yelling. "Because of your carelessness the Queen and Prince were put in a very dire situation."
"I will send men into the Mountains right now, Your Majesty."
"I should think so," Aragorn replied shortly, signalling the conversation was over.
I slowly backed away from the door and went to make sure that Adnan was occupying himself. He was playing quietly with his blocks and so I went back into my own room to prepare for the small dinner we would be having in Adnan's honor.
When I came into the sitting room an hour or so, Legolas and Gimli had already arrived and to my mock horror I saw Adnan trying to decide which play weapon to use first, the wooden axe Gimli had given him or the dulled bow and arrow set from the Elf.
"How lovely," I said, giving an admonishing look to the duo. "More weapons."
"Next time I will fight the orcs!" Adnan exclaimed, wielding the axe wildly.
"We heard you had quite the exciting day," Legolas said softly, standing next to me, watching my son with a bemused smile on his face.
"A grand adventure," I agreed.
The next, and only other guests to have been invited, were Beinion and Vanya.
Vanya hugged me warmly and Adnan came running up to her. She pressed her hand to her chest in mock surprise. "Who is this fierce warrior?" She asked me. "I thought we were here to celebrate Adnan's birthday
"It is Adnan, silly," he said with a burst of childish laughter.
"Oh, there you are. I truly did not recognize you with the axe."
Vanya handed him the package that she had carried in. He tore it open and inside there was a painting set filled with beautiful colors and several blank of sheets of parchment.
"I tried to bring something more exciting, but Vanya insisted on that," Beinion whispered though of course his wife could hear him. She nudged him. "But it seems he already has plenty of weapons."
Adnan was not disappointed in the gift. "Can I paint, mama?" He asked.
"After dinner," I promised. He gave me a disappointed look, but quickly picked up the bow. I was afraid that we would all end up bruised if he began to send those dulled arrows flying. "Careful," I admonished.
"It is important to nourish the arts as well as the warfare," Vanya said, pleased that her gift had been a success.
"I completely agree."
Aragorn entered just before we were going to sit down to dinner. From his demeanor I could tell that he was still not in a very good mood after the day's events. Everyone made the appropriate greetings and he led us into my small dining room. The menu I had prepared was a strange one. There was nothing in common that held the menu together. Only Adnan's favorites from Gondor were being served.
My son piled his plate high with roast beef, carrots and potatoes, fried white fish, bread, cheese, an apple, fruit tarts, and a piece of a chocolate cake.
"Surely he will not eat all of that," Vanya said when I did not stop him from putting so much on his plate.
"You will be surprised."
Everyone present was surprised when Adnan completely cleaned his plate, except his mother. I had seen it too many times. I did not know where he put it all, but it gave him ample energy.
We all chatted and laughed throughout dinner, though I noticed that Aragorn hardly said a word. I raised a brow at him when I caught his eye, but he shook his head.
"If the men are through eating I would ask that they come to my study. There is something we must discuss," he said, rising from his chair at the head of the table.
Adnan went to follow them out of the door, trying to not be noticed, but I grabbed his arm. "I thought you wanted to paint?"
"But I am a man," he protested.
"Not quite, though you break my heart wishing for such a thing," I said dramatically.
He sighed and took the painting kit and laid on the floor in my sitting room with it.
Vanya joined me on the sofa.
"Paint on the stone floor, not the rug," I told him, not wanting him to stain anything.
"I do not know how you do it," Vanya said, watching Adnan dip his brush in sky blue paint. "I have many friends with children, but none are as hands on as you are with him."
I shrugged. "Harad is not like Gondor for many reasons, but childrearing is a big one. He had a nurse in Harad, but she was rarely used. It is not common to have your children away from you all day every day there."
"I have followed your fashion leadership, but I am not sure if I will be able to follow in your mothering footsteps as well," Vanya said.
I looked at her curiously and immediately had my question answered by her broad smile.
"Does Beinion know? When are you due?" I asked excitedly, wrapping her tightly in my embrace.
"He does. He is over the moon," she said beaming. "The child should be here around the new year."
"I am so happy for you!"
"That makes one of us. I am so nervous," she admitted.
"As are all first time mothers, I can promise you that."
"I will be badgering you with questions until the child is here. And probably long after that," she laughed lightly.
"I will be more than happy to provide any comfort I can."
Vanya had not been kidding. She immediately began to ask me questions about how I had felt while carrying Adnan, if I had craved any strange foods, if he had arrived late or early.
Adnan had been unusually quiet throughout our conversation and when I looked over to where he was painting, I saw that he had fallen asleep. His cheek was pressed against the parchment he had been painting on and I could see a blue smudge of paint there.
"That will have to be dealt with in the morning," I sighed, going over to lift him from the floor.
He subconsciously wrapped his arms and legs around me and I took him into his bedroom, carefully laying him in his bed, before removing his boots and covering him up. His cheek was covered in blue paint, but I did not want to wake him to scrub it off.
When I re-emerged into the sitting room, Aragorn and Beinion were back.
"Wife, you have paint on your neck," Aragorn said with a curious look.
"I am sure I do," I responded with a light laugh.
"Come Vanya. We should get home. It is getting late." Beinion offered his wife his arm and with one more smile in my direction, they were on their way.
As soon as the door closed behind them, Aragorn collapsed into a chair. I sat on the sofa across from him, but did not speak, unsure of what to say. He had been quite affected by the events of the day.
"I am sorry," he said quietly.
"Sorry?" I asked, confused. "Whatever for?"
"For putting you and Adnan in danger this afternoon," he replied, looking at me with weary eyes.
"I had not realized you did it on purpose," I said offering him a gentle smile.
"Please do not take it lightly, Mareke," he said. "You could have died. Adnan could have been killed."
"That never seemed like a possibility. I did not think for one second that that would be the outcome."
"Perhaps you should have."
I sat staring at him for a moment. He had cleaned his cut earlier, but it was still raw and red. He seemed very concerned about the matter and I could not understand why. I had not figured that I was of great import to him since I had arrived. His behavior towards me was always polite and friendly, but nothing had changed since our wedding nearly two months earlier. He had a great fondness for my son, though.
"You would never have let anything happen to Adnan," I said finally. "I can see how much you care for him in the way your face softens when he is around." I paused. "A few orcs were not as dire as all that. Especially after all your men and you have seen on a battlefield."
Aragorn nodded. "Regardless, some things are out of even my control."
"It will be one of Adnan's favorite birthdays for the rest of his life, I am sure," I said quietly, once more trying to lighten his mood.
"I could not have lived with myself if he had not lived to see his fifth," Aragorn put his head in his hands.
"But he will see his next birthday, so perhaps we should let today remain in the past. I am sure you have taken care of it."
"You are sure because you were eavesdropping from the bathroom earlier," he said with a twinkle in his eye when he looked back up at me.
My cheeks flushed.
"You seem guilty," he laughed. It was the first time he had done so since we had been on our ride.
"I have no defense. You have caught me."
"Well," he said, standing. "I will have to come up with a proper punishment." The twinkle was still in his eyes. As he passed by me on the sofa, heading for the door, he gave my hand a gentle squeeze and was gone.
Per usual, I hope you enjoyed it! I love hearing from both my regular reviewers and those who are giving their first review on my story. Let me know what you think about this update and give me any ideas that you have for future chapters!
Happy reading,
Avonmora