Well it seems I have lost some of regulars due to my long absences and that breaks my heart! Although, I am grateful for all of the new reviewers that I have heard from. I do apologize for this rough transition I am having, but know that I am trying and have no intention of abandoning this story. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this update!

Chapter Twenty-Seven (Aragorn)

The days had grown colder once more and I found myself worrying constantly over Mareke's health. The winter before she had gotten a terrible cold. I feared that she might be just as susceptible as her body was focused on carrying our child.

From what had been estimated as the date of conception, she could be due as early as the end of the year which was rapidly approaching.

I could tell she was exhausted of it and bored to death. Between Herion's directives to remain in the palace and the cold weather barring her from even a walk around the garden there were not many activities open to her, especially with Adnan spending the largest part of his days with tutors.

There was not much I could think of that would lift her spirits, though I spent a great deal of time trying to come up with something.

As her birthday approached, I began to make it a little more of an affair. We had not celebrated the year before as she had been ill, but I thought it would be something she would enjoy if I planned something more than a dinner.

I sent invitations to the few of her friends that could potentially attend on such short notice.

To my delight, Eowyn and Faramir responded in the affirmative as did the siblings from Dol Amroth.

The only person I told was Legolas, as I could not trust Adnan or Gimli with the surprise. The Dwarf spent much of his spare time with Mareke. I was grateful that he cared so much for her, but I knew that he could not keep a secret.

I enlisted the help of Oyna for two different parts of planning: designing a dress that would make Mareke feel more comfortable and attractive as well as overseeing the cooking of a Haradrim dinner.

Gimli of course knew that it was Mareke's birthday and on top of his own gift, which he would not disclose, I had commissioned him to craft an ornate, gold inlaid map of Harad that could be hung in her small study.

As she had grown more comfortable in Minas Tirith she had transformed the small space so that it resembled her home. There were silks draped everywhere and incense burned that she had brought from home. Oftentimes, even when Adnan was not with her, Duma could be found curled under her desk though he was supposed to be in the gardens.

The day before her birthday, I stopped by Mareke's rooms in the afternoon. Walking into her sitting room, I did not immediately see her. As I stepped around an armchair I found her fast asleep on the sofa. She was surrounded by pillows strategically placed to make her more comfortable.

I had not once heard her complain, but I could tell that it was wearing on her. The bags under her eyes had returned and the way she moved, her balance thrown off by the growing child, made everything she did awkward and ungainly. Nervous as I was for the child's impending arrival, I hated to see her suffering through she masked it with such grace and composure.

As I watched her, her brow furrowed and she pressed a hand to her swollen stomach. I quickly knelt beside the sofa and woke her gently, concerned she was in pain.

"Mareke, are you alright?" I asked quietly.

Her dark eyes blinked open slowly and when she registered my presence, did not seem surprised by it.

"Your child does not move very often, but when he does he makes his presence known," she said wearily, taking my hand in hers and pressing it to the same spot she had pressed down on a moment before.

I had never felt our child. I had not been comfortable doing so and Mareke had never invited such a thing. My eyes widened as I felt the thumping against my hand.

My eyes met hers in complete awe and she gave me a gentle smile before I looked back down at my hand that was splayed on the mound.

Eventually, the kicking stopped and I moved my hand away. Mareke struggled to sit up and I helped her before joining her on the sofa.

"Or she," I said when we settled as comfortably as possible.

"Pardon?" Mareke looked up at me.

"Or she," I repeated. "You said 'he' does not move often, but we may have a daughter."

"We may," she agreed, resting her head on my shoulder. "Which would you prefer?"

I had not given it any thought. Trying to imagine an actual child was rather difficult for me. I had never been around a newborn and so the thought of holding my own in my arms was quite the foreign concept.

"I have not yet wrapped my head around the fact that very soon we will have an infant, let alone what gender I wish it to be."

Herenya laughed against me. "You are in for quite the thrill of your life, Your Majesty."

I turned and pressed a kiss to her forehead, feeling rather peaceful.

We remained in silence for a while.

"Are you ready for your birthday dinner tomorrow?" I asked.

She sighed. "Are you sure we cannot all just lay in my sitting room and relax. It takes such effort to move from room to room anymore."

It was the closest she had ever come to voicing her discomfort. "You will enjoy yourself," I promised.

"You will have to give me an hour head start to make it into the dining room."

"We can do that."

ooooOoooo

The next day I had the dress that Oyna had designed sent to Mareke's rooms when I knew she would be preparing herself for the party. I slipped a note with it, making sure that she would wear it even if she had something else in mind.

An hour later, I made my way to her rooms and found Adnan lying on the nursery floor playing with his wooden figures.

"Do you have your mother's gift?" I asked.

He nodded eagerly and reached under his bed, pulling out the framed portrait that his grandparents had sent. I had remembered seeing it when we had been in Harad and knew that it must have been painful for Mareke to leave something so meaningful behind, but she had not thought it appropriate to bring such a thing to her new life in Minas Tirith.

Adnan had struggled to come up with a gift idea so I had gently suggested that we send for the portrait of he and his mother that had been painted when he was just a toddler. In it, Adnan was grinning broadly out of the frame and Herenya was smiling down at him.

"Why do you not hide it in the sitting room before your mother comes out? We will give her our gifts there after the meal," I said.

Adnan leapt up and carried the awkward frame and hurried out into the sitting room. I followed him and just as he straightened from tucking the portrait under the sofa, Mareke emerged from her bedroom.

My jaw dropped when I turned and saw her in the dress that Oyna had designed. It was a deep purple that complemented her dark skin and hair. It was loose and cascaded down her tall frame, rippling as though it were water as she moved. We had sent for the silk from Harad. It was the first garment that had been made with it.

Her long curls, for the first time since we had been in Harad, were down, framing her face. I could tell that it had gotten much thicker since she was carrying a child and her skin looked like burnished bronze.

She rubbed her hands over the dress self-consciously as I stared at her. I shook myself from my trance and strode toward her, taking her upper arms, fleshier than I had ever felt them, in my hands.

"You are stunning," I said, kissing her cheek.

"Thank you for the dress," she smiled. "It is absolutely wonderful. I had no idea we had access to silk."

"It was part of the first trading convoy from your father."

"How fitting," she said and her smile broadened.

"See? Your birthday is not so bad." I took her hand and caught Adnan by the arm as he came hurtling toward his mother to give her a birthday hug. "Gentle," I admonished.

He did the best he could to wrap his arms around his mother's widening girth.

Mareke tousled his curls and I lifted him so she could place a kiss on his forehead.

As I sat him back down, Gimli and Legolas entered the sitting room.

"Your Majesty," Gimli said taking her hand and kissing it. "You are breathtaking."

"Gimli, do not flatter me so," she laughed.

"Trust me, it is no flattery. Do you not know that Dwarves only speak the truth?"

Legolas snorted. "Not to discount your absolute beauty, Mareke, but do not believe that this Dwarf only speaks the truth, though of course this time he does." He gave my wife a gentle smile.

While Mareke was engaged with Gimli and Legolas, Vanya and Beinion came in without Marilla.

"We left her with a nurse," Vanya said as though she could read my mind.

"What better occasion than the Queen's birthday?" Beinion asked, pouring himself a goblet of wine.

Vanya elbowed her way through the Elf and Dwarf who were surrounding my wife. The shorter woman did her best to gather my wife in her arms and then held her at arm's length.

"I will have to get Oyna on designing a new dress with that silk. How exquisite!" She exclaimed, rubbing it between her fingers.

I was glad that Mareke was distracted, because while she was busy discussing Marilla with Vanya and Beinion Faramir, Eowyn, and the siblings from Dol Amroth snuck into the sitting room.

Adnan gasped and ran to Eowyn. Mareke turned to see what the commotion was about and her eyes lit up in shock.

"What are you all doing here?" she asked. She did not make it a step towards the group before they were upon her.

"You are absolutely glowing!" Eowyn exclaimed, in a manner I would have never expected from the shieldmaiden. She took Mareke's hands in hers as Faramir leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Mareke's cheek.

"Happy birthday, Your Majesty," he said with a soft smile.

"As gorgeous as ever," Amrothos said, moving his cousin aside and kissing Mareke's hand in his dramatic manner.

Lothiriel forcefully moved her brother aside and hugged Mareke tightly, before putting her small hands on Mareke's stomach and absolutely beaming at my wife, giving her congratulations.

"Shall we proceed to our entertainment?" I asked loudly, trying to herd the group into the dining room.

"Entertainment?" Mareke raised an eyebrow in my direction.

"I thought you could use a laugh so I arranged for some play actors to occupy our time before we eat."

She stepped back and looped her arm through mine. Adnan latched onto my free hand in the midst of all of the adults around him. Elboron had been left with his nurse as well.

The dining room had been rearranged a bit so that the chairs were in rows and the table was pushed against the wall so the actors had enough room to do their bit.

I helped Mareke to sit down and pulled Adnan onto my lap as our friends took seats around us.

"I think you will enjoy this," I leaned over and whispered to my wife as the actors came out before us. They were dressed in the traditional clothing of Minas Tirith, though it was quite overdone. The women had their faces painted with much more makeup than the noblewomen normally wore and the men's clothes were very tight with dramatic flairs.

The particular group of actors, street performers really, that I had found were known for their satire and mocking routines. I could think of nothing more perfect for Mareke's birthday. I wanted her to know that it was okay to make light of our situation, ruling over such a people. It would take a long time to change anything, but in the meantime those of us who truly understood the nature of my people could have some entertainment out of it.

The actors proceeded to perform a mockery of Minas Tirith's society. They made fun of the elaborate events we attended, the way the nobles spoke in their stilted, refined accents, and the ridiculous customs we had.

It was nearly impossible to hear what was being said over everyone's laughter. I glanced over at Mareke and could not help but join the laughter as she was doubled over with tears running down her cheeks. Adnan looked around, bored from not understanding the jokes.

When they were through, we ushered the actors out of the dining room with raucous applause. As the table was moved back into place, Faramir looked in my direction with a mischievous smirk.

"Is it possible for the King to commit treason?" he asked.

Mareke squeezed my arm. "Yes, that was quite dangerous on your part, husband."

"They were paid a bit extra to keep tonight's audience a secret," I replied as I pulled Mareke's chair out for her and took my seat at the opposite head of the table.

Everyone went back over their favorite jokes, most revolving around the ridiculously rigid customs forced upon the women. Looking around me I was glad to see that not one of the women sharing our evening was dressed or made up as the women of Minas Tirith.

At the far end of the table, Erchirion and Amrothos were regaling Mareke with their tales of sailing boats and life by the sea.

"I have never seen the sea," I heard her say. "I would very much like to one day."

"You are most welcome anytime," Erchirion said. "You could meet our eldest brother and his family, though he is not quite as handsome as I," he said with a roguish wink.

"Your good looks will only get you so far, brother," Amrothos said. "The ladies really go for my charm."

Mareke was laughing once more.

"You two are too much for me that is for certain," she said.

"Perhaps we will all be travelling to Dol Amroth soon for an engagement ceremony," Eowien said.

Lothiriel's cheeks colored and she looked down at the empty plate before her.

"Oh Eowien," Mareke chided. "Leave her be or you will be responsible for your brother's heartbreak when she can no longer court him because you scared her away."

I had received a few letters from Eomer-King mentioning that he had been writing to both Lothiriel and her father, negotiating marriage details with the former, which would ultimately require my permission as well.

"I knew my wife was quite gifted, but now we can add matchmaker to her list of achievements," I laughed.

Eowien laughed and reached across the table to take Lothiriel's hand. "I merely jest," she said. "I would be proud to have you for a sister, but you will have to have thicker skin if you are to rule over my people, little flower."

"They are a rowdy bunch from what I have seen," Mareke said, raising her goblet in Lothiriel's direction, though I knew it only contained water.

"They have the most wonderful golden ale," Gimli said dreamily, taking a drink from his mug that contained the best ale Gondor had to offer, which I knew from experience paled in comparison to what Eomer served in his halls.

"Gimli enjoyed it a little too much," Legolas said smugly.

"We had won a great victory," Gimli defended himself staunchly.

Throughout the whole exchange poor Lothiriel said nothing.

"Now we have tainted her experience, Eowien," Mareke said. "The days of courting were the sweetest and she should enjoy them without being teased mercilessly."

I knew that it was not our days of courting that she referred to for we had had none. When she had arrived, our wedding had already been mostly planned. I imagined there had been sweeter days between her and her first husband. I urged the thought from my head as platters of food were set before me.

"The surprises are unending this evening," Mareke said as she realized the food was of her people.

"Well twenty-five is a special year," I said with a smile and a shrug.

"Do you hear that Faramir?" Eowyn asked taking a sip from her goblet. I studied her for a moment and realized she might have been a little bit drunk. "The King says that twenty-five is a special year."

"I have already started planning for your birthday, my love," he said confidently and I was sure he had as practical as he was.

Per usual, before anyone was able to fill their plates, Adnan had already cleaned his first one and was piling more onto his plate, stuffing a hunk of bread in his mouth at the same time.

"While it was all well and good to make fun of Minas Tirith," Beinion said watching Adnan, "I believe your son could use a few more etiquette lessons, Your Majesty."

Mareke laughed and nodded. "I am afraid you are right. He has them most days now, but they seem to be useless, do they not?"

"There is nothing wrong with enjoying his food," Gimli said. "It will make him grow up to be big and strong."

Mareke ate all of her favorite foods and the delight was evident on her face. She was blissful as she ate the fried cinnamon bread I knew she had been craving. Many of the native Haradrim fruits had been brought in on the first convey along with the silk and it was miraculously still edible. Mareke peeled an orange fruit and ate the slices with her fingers, everyone watching her to see how it was done.

When the dishes were cleared away, we went back into the sitting room.

"It is about your bedtime, habibi," Mareke said quietly to Adnan as she sat down in an armchair. I had not once seen her rest a hand on her swollen stomach. I believe she did not want to draw attention to her condition, though it was quite obvious of course. Lady Ioreth's instructions had stuck with her it seemed.

Adnan wrapped his hands in her silk skirts and shook his head vigorously. I crouched down beside him, resting a hand on Mareke's silk covered knee.

"You have not yet given your mother her gift," I whispered in his ear.

His eyes widened and he got on all fours, crawling over to the sofa and dragging the portrait out. Once more, he picked it up awkwardly and when he came back to stand before his mother, I helped him hold it so she could see what it was.

"Oh Adnan, did you get that for me?" she asked, her voice catching in her throat with her emotion.

The boy looked at me and then nodded. "I did, Mama."

"This was always my favorite portrait," she said, squeezing my hand on her knee. "This will be a hard gift to top."

"We can hang it in here so all of the guests can see it," he said excitedly.

"That is a wonderful idea," she agreed.

"I will have it done first thing in the morning," I promised.

I could feel everyone's eyes on us and so I took the portrait and leaned it against Mareke's chair before standing and lifting Adnan above my head. "Your mother says time for bed," I said when I brought him back down to my hip.

He sighed as though it were inevitable and not worth fighting. I leaned him over so that he could wrap his arms around Mareke's neck and she could press a kiss into his curls. "Happy birthday, Mama," he said sweetly as I carried him into the nursery and quickly put him to bed.

When I re-emerged into the sitting room, Mareke had a small pile of opened gifts on the table next to her and Legolas was presenting her with his.

"It is meant more for decoration than protection." Mareke held a small dagger in her palms, running her fingers along the inscription on the beautifully carved wooden handle. As I looked at it I realized it was not in Sindarin, but Quenya.

"What does it say?" Mareke asked.

"The best protection anyone can have is courage," Legolas said.

"That is quite powerful," Mareke said. "It is beautiful, Legolas. Thank you."

"It is your turn, lad," Gimli said to me when I approached the circle.

"Have you gone?"

"Trust me, you do not want to follow my gift." He had the audacity to smirk at me.

"Mine is already hanging in your study. You can look in the morning," I said, not wanting to remove her from the comfortable chair.

Everyone looked at Gimli expectantly. He picked up a flat, square box that he had set down upon his arrival.

He opened the lid and from what I could tell it was a mess of mithril.

"Hold this," he told me, thrusting the box into my hands. "May I?" he asked, lifting the delicate piece from the box and approaching Mareke.

She nodded and he reached above her, laying the mithril on the crown of her head. He adjusted his creation with such tenderness that it seemed as though he was not the same Dwarf I had known for so many years.

When he stepped away from Mareke, everyone was silent, just staring at her.

The piece he had created draped over her pitch black hair. The strands of mithril were so fine that they appeared to be glittering strands of hair. On her forehead lay a black jewel that matched her wedding ring and glinted. It all caused her eyes to stand out and gleam.

"What?" she asked, unable to see what we all could.

Vanya rushed into her bedroom without hesitating and brought out a hand mirror to show her.

"Oh Gimli," she murmured, turning her head back and forth to take it all in. "This is absolutely exquisite. I have never seen anything like it."

"I was tired of you wearing that heavy crown," he said sheepishly. "So I designed something else that you might be able to use instead; that suited your personality better."

"That was so thoughtful," she said, meeting his eyes, causing his cheeks to color. "I may never take it off."

With the giving of gifts over, musicians filtered in and took their place in the corner. Once more furniture was moved out of the way.

"Music and dancing?" Mareke asked me. She had immediately taken a seat in her chair when it had been moved. "This is quite the night, Your Majesty."

"Only the best for you, my Queen," I said taking her hand and kissing it.

Amrothos came up to her other side, thoroughly ruining the moment. "Your Majesty, might I have this dance?" he asked as the musicians began.

"Prince Amrothos, I am amazed at your impudence," I said, mock angry. "You do not ask another man's wife to dance before he has had a dance with her. Especially my wife."

"Ah my apologies, Sire," he said bowing low, but grinning up at me and winking at Mareke. "I shall have to content myself with the second dance."

"I am afraid I am going to have to disappoint both of you," Mareke said. "I am not my usual graceful safe." That was as close as she would come to addressing her condition.

"Nonsense," I said, hauling her to her feet ignoring her protests. "That is why we are only dancing amongst friends only."

"Aragorn," she groaned, but I had already taken one of her hands and had a hold on her hip with my other.

She had not been lying when she said she would be less graceful. She threw off my balance as well and we did our best as we danced around the room. By the end of the song we were both laughing, foreheads resting together, not moving at all. "I hope I have not ruined your birthday," I jested.

"Quite the opposite. This has been the best birthday I have had in a very long while."

"I am glad," I replied taking her chin between two fingers and kissing her deeply, not caring that everyone was watching.

ooooOoooo

A week later, Mareke was sitting at her desk underneath the map of Harad I had had made for her birthday. Gimli had been correct in saying that I would not wish to follow his gift. Upon waking the day after her birthday, Mareke had immediately put the new crown on and we had gone to look at the map. She was pleased with it I knew, but it could not top Gimli's gift though both were crafted by him.

Adnan was lying on his stomach in front of the fire, working on his letters while his mother sat writing a letter to Harad.

"Both hard at work I see," I said upon entering.

Mareke looked up and laughed lightly, putting her quill down. "You are not this afternoon?"

"I dismissed the council early. I have these random epiphanies where I realize I am the King and as long as the Realm is not collapsing I can sometimes cut myself a break."

"Well that is comforting to know that we are not going to fall into ruin this afternoon."

I pressed a kiss to her forehead and rested a hand briefly on her stomach before taking a seat across from her.

Adnan walked over to his mother and laid his parchment on her desk for her to look over. Legolas had been working diligently with him on his letters.

"Habibi, this one should be like this," she said wrapping her hand around his and retracing one letter the correct way. "Do you see?"

He nodded and leaned into her side.

"You are doing so much better, though," she said kissing his head and running her fingers through his curls.

The door opened with a light knock and Legolas strode in. "Ready for your lesson, Adnan?"

"Look at my letters!" he exclaimed rushing towards the Elf. "I only had to fix one."

"Very good," Legolas said, looking over the parchment.

They left with quick waves and Mareke and I were alone.

"I will not know what to do without him for a month," she said, speaking of her impending confinement. "I worry about him."

"He will be alright. I will look after him, you know that."

She looked at me without a word for a long moment. "I wish it did not have to happen," she said quietly.

"Mareke," I began. "My hands are tied."

With the impending end of her pregnancy came at least a month of separation from her eldest and I could see the panic that that caused. I knew they had never been separated.

"Please, Aragorn," she begged. "I have not asked you for anything once since I arrived here, but I cannot do this."

She was implying that I go up against my council once more, against all of Minas Tirith and its customs. "I cannot change this."

"You are the King!" she exclaimed, losing her composure.

"And this is expected of the King," I returned. "Do you think I want to do this to you?"

"You must or it would not have to happen," she said, tears brimming in her eyes.

"I have changed everything for you."

"And I asked for none of it. If I had known that you would not budge on this, I would have spent the last year wearing a corset and makeup if it could change this ridiculous custom!" She put her head in her hands for a long moment. "He will not understand. He will learn to live without me."

"You are overreacting," I said. "It is not that long."

Her eyes blazed. "It is much too long for my liking," she said dangerously. "It is quite interesting that you can hire actors to make fun of your Realm and all we endure for it, but you are not willing to change those things! Why get my hopes up with all of the laughter and joking?"

"I do not know what you can possibly expect of me."

"If you disagree then you are the man to change these things. No one else can!"

"I am exhausted, Mareke. I am so tired of fighting with my council over every tiny matter. I have tried to make you comfortable here and it is not enough apparently." I sighed and stood, walking to the door. "I will discuss this no longer."

There you have it! Please let me know what you think as the reviews are really what keep me wanting to write! I know I've been a terrible author and not done a good job of updating lately, but I'm trying make amends. As always, please share any ideas you may have!

Happy reading,

Avonmora