Hi all! While I had originally intended for this story to be purely from Mareke's perspective, I have changed my mind. This chapter is from Eomer's POV. This will not be as structured with the back and forth of "The White Tree and Burning Sun" if you are familiar with my OG Mareke story, but I will switch POVs as I feel necessary.

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Anywho, enjoy!

Chapter Four (Eomer)

A week after my second wedding, things evened out into a routine. I rose long before the sun and made my way to the stables for a ride before anyone else could bother me or ruin my mood for the day.

After that, my day belonged to my subjects and to my council as I was locked in meetings or sitting in my study reading reports, writing letters, and organizing the eoreds. In the afternoon, I always kept a block of my schedule free for Artanis. We had been spending most of our time together with riding lessons, but occasionally my daughter just wanted to go for a walk through the gardens or the marketplace.

One afternoon, we were strolling through the gardens when we came upon Artanis' favorite fountain. She leapt, graceful as a cat, onto the stone fountain and began trying to keep her balance as she walked the circle.

"Papa?" she asked, keeping her attention on her feet.

"Hmm?" I watched her closely, ready to leap if she lost her balance.

"Do you like Mareke?"

"Mareke?" I was a little taken aback by the question.

The routine that I had created involved my new wife very little. I would see her at dinner and then when Artanis finished her meal and was sent to her rooms with Dernhild for the evening, I took Mareke to our bed. That aspect had continued to be surprisingly enjoyable, but once I was through with that, I went back to my study. I would return to our bedroom late at night to find Mareke fast asleep by the time I was able to crawl into bed.

"Yes I like Mareke," I responded. I did like what I knew of the woman, though at that point it was only that she was agreeable to bed and seemed to enjoy the sensations I could bring to her body.

There was something to be said about desert heat.

"It does not seem like it," Artanis said, still looking down.

"Why not?"

"You do not really talk to her. And I think you only see her at dinner."

"I am quite busy, Artanis, you know that. You have always known that."

My daughter nodded her agreement. "If you are so busy, why did you get a wife that you do not have time for?"

I was silent again. "It is complicated."

"I am not stupid," Artanis paused in her walk around the fountain and jumped down, looking up into my face.

"No, mo leanbh (my child), you are not. My life would be easier if you were," I said with a rueful chuckle. Artanis only continued to stand, staring at me and I knew she would do the same until I gave her a satisfactory answer. "Well, I married so that Rohan and Gondor could be friends with Harad, so we will not have to go to war with them again. It was an awful thing when it happened just before you were born and I do not want that to happen again. So we must make friends with other Realms."

"Well, can you not just be friends? Why did Mareke have to leave her family and join ours? Surely she misses them."

I shrugged. "That is often how friendships are made. They are forged through the strong bonds of marriage."

"But you do not seem to have a strong bond with Mareke."

"Well I suppose not. We do not know each other very well. Unfortunately, that is often the case when you marry because the Realm needs you to."

"I do not want to have to do that."

I knelt down and looked into her brown eyes, placing my hands on her shoulders. "You have my word that you will marry for nothing more or less than love." I did not intend for the ferocity that came into my voice, but after being married to strangers twice, I knew I would do whatever I had to to ensure that my daughter would not share the same fate. If she wished it, she could marry the most exalted of princes or a stablehand. I would not stop her.

"Mareke has to give you a son," Artanis said as I rose back to my feet. "Does she not?"

"She does," I replied, not wanting to answer more questions on that front.

"Because I cannot be Queen," Artanis continued in her musings that were only half questions. She seemed to have her answers already. "I cannot be Queen so you must have a son to be King after you."

"Unfortunately that is the way of things."

Artanis was silent for a moment as we continued to walk through the gardens.

"Papa?"

"Yes Artanis?"

"I like Mareke."

I rested my hand on the top of her head. "I am glad."

ooooOoooo

The next morning, I rose as I usually did. Mareke was sleeping soundly on her side of the bed. At night, we did not reach for each other or touch at all. We stayed far away from the middle of the mattress.

Mareke had given up her Haradrim attire since she had arrived in Edoras, but during those warm summer months after we were married she wore silk nightgowns that had come from her home. They were often in the most beautiful jewel tones which I thought made her dark skin look quite lovely.

I studied her for a moment before I dressed and left for the day.

Late in the morning, I was scheduled to have a meeting with my council, but I found myself sending a servant to alert the council members that I was canceling it. I did know what had come over me, but I felt terrible.

I sat at my desk trying to breathe through the nausea I was experiencing, but found myself hurrying back to my rooms. I did not know exactly what Mareke occupied her time with during the day, but I knew that she had been spending a good deal of time with Leofwyn, who was the one person I could think of who could teach her how the Rohirric court operated. Leofwyn had been a part of the court since early in my uncle's reign and she could help Mareke learn what a Rohirric Queen was supposed to do.

By the time I reached our bedroom, I knew I would be sick. I quickly grabbed the basin that was kept in the corner of the room for washing up and emptied the contents of my stomach into it.

It had been ages since I had been sick to my stomach for any reason besides a few too many mugs of ale and I had forgotten how awful it felt.

As my stomach heaved, my entire body broke into a clammy sweat. I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled my boots off and then tore my shirts over my head hoping to get some relief.

I stayed hunched over the basin for what felt like hours, retching over and over again. It must have been hours because the light changed in the window as the sun began to sink behind Meduseld.

After a particularly awful round of being sick, I sat in silence until I heard the door open and a gasp.

Too late, I realized, I had removed my shirt and sat with my bare back to the door.

"Eomer?" I heard Mareke's timid, accented voice.

"Get out!" I thundered. I did not immediately hear the door open, but I could not turn to look at her and see the horror on her face. "Now!"

Then I heard the door open and close once more and I sighed.

ooooOoooo

I woke much later to cool, spring air blowing in through the open window. The room was lit only by a candle on the nightstand.

A damp rag was being dabbed on my bare chest, neck, and forehead and I realized, as I came to, that Mareke was sitting on the edge of the bed.

When she looked at my face, I was staring evenly right back at her.

"How are you feeling?" she asked. "I do not think you are ill. I believe you had a very adverse reaction to something you ate."

"You do not have to do all of this," I replied gruffly, not answering her question.

Mareke rose and went to the fireplace where a low fire was going and a kettle was hanging from the rack. She used a thick towel and pulled the kettle from the flames, coming over to the bedside table once more. I glanced over to see a mug with a fine mesh bag waiting for the hot water.

"This should help settle your stomach," Mareke said, ignoring me in turn. "It is a mint and ginger tea."

I raised an eyebrow.

"It will help," she promised, pouring steaming water into the mug. She let it cool for a moment before picking it up.

"This is a bit much. I feel fine now," I said, not bringing up the fact that I had yelled at her earlier.

Mareke set the mug back on the bedside table, a slight look of disappointment on her features. "Very well."

She disappeared into her closet and returned a few moments later in one of the Haradrim nightgowns. If I was still not feeling a bit queasy, I would have had her then and there.

"Would you like the window opened or closed?" she asked, looking out of the gardens.

"Open is fine," I replied.

Mareke lingered before turning and going to her side of the bed and turning the light linen blankets down.

Without a word, she rolled to her side and pulled the blankets over her shoulder. I reached over and snuffed the candle, without taking a sip of the tea she had made.

ooooOoooo

The next morning, as I sat working in my study and listening to my councilors during our rescheduled meeting, I could only think of what Mareke would have seen when she opened the door on my sick form the day before. The feelings of shame and humiliation rankled. I had managed the entirety of my marriage to Artanis' mother without her seeing the scars on my back and I am not sure I had ever been sick in front of Lothiriel.

Weakness was not something I liked to contemplate in myself.

When I was free from the council meeting, I returned to my study.

The feelings of shame quickly turned into anger. I was angry at Mareke for seeing me in such a state. I drummed my fingers on my desk over and over again.

"Send for the Queen," I said to the servant who was always standing in the corner of my room.

I tried to read the document before me, but the information on plans for the harvest in the fall would not sink in, no matter how many times I read the first paragraph.

"Queen Mareke, Your Majesty," the servant said as they entered once more, standing aside for Mareke.

Mareke gave a shallow curtsy as she stood before my desk. "You wished to see me, Your Majesty?"

"I did," I waved the servant out of the room. I rose from my chair and walked around the desk towards my wife. Over the first few days of our marriage, I had taken more and more of her in. Her dark eyes watched me as I moved toward her, her brows furrowed.

"Are you feeling-"

I did not let her finish her question before I had grabbed her roughly around the waist and pulled her into me.

Her dark, plump lips yielded as mine crashed into her. My hands ran down her back, resting on her behind and then squeezing forcefully.

Mareke yelped into my mouth, but my hands did not cease, only moved to her breasts.

"Eomer," she gasped, when my lips moved to her neck. "Can we-? Are you sure-? What if-?" Mareke could not finish a single one of her thoughts. My hands ran down her back again and then lifted behind her thighs. I carried her over to my desk and sat her down, spreading her legs and bunching her dress around her waist.

"Stop talking," I commanded.

Her arms lingered around my shoulders as I quickly untied my breeches and shoved them down just enough.

Without warning, I buried myself in Mareke's folds and groaned loudly, throwing my head back.

Mareke whimpered and pressed her face against my shoulder.

In all of our previous couplings, I had been cognizant of Mareke's needs. I had been gentle with her the first few times and ensured that she experienced pleasure as well.

After she had seen me at such a low point, I was subconsciously punishing her. I was seemingly reminding her that I was a strong, virile man, not the ill and weak person she had tended to the night before.

That resulted in me pounding in and out of her as she held on tightly to my neck. She made no sounds of pleasure and was actually completely silent, tense in my arms.

I finished with a strangled growl into Mareke's hair. I did not remain still, quickly separating us and re-tying my breeches.

When I looked up, Mareke was pulling her skirts down with one hand and wiping her eyes with the other.

Not being able to stand the sight of what I had done, I took my seat at my desk. "You may go," I said, staring down at the harvest plans once more.

Mareke carefully slid from my desk and even though I was not looking at her, I saw her offer a stiff curtsy. "Your Majesty," she said, before leaving my study.

ooooOoooo

That night I sent word to Mareke and Artanis that I would not be able to join them for dinner. It was a lie. I could not stand to see Mareke again after what had happened that afternoon.

I did not return to our rooms until after midnight.

I did not light a candle, but felt my way in the dark to the bedroom. I patted the blankets, searching my sleep shirt that was always lying out for me.

"I put it on the chair in the corner," someone whispered.

I jumped in fright. When I was able to calm my heartbeat, I felt around the bed some more until I found my daughter's soft, small hand. "Artanis?"

"I could not sleep. I had a bad dream and Mareke said I could stay in your bed until you returned."

I sighed and swiped a hand over my face, still recovering.

"Please, Papa, can I stay with you tonight?"

It had been long since Artanis had come to me in the middle of the night. Often when she had been a toddler, she would wake wailing in the night, frightened by something or other and I would wave Dernhild away. Gently, I would lift my daughter from her bed and bring her into mine. She had had a habit of pulling my heavy arm over her tiny midsection as she slept next to me and I wondered if the weight was not a comfort.

"Just this once," I replied, pulling my overshirt off, so I was just in my linen undershirt. I kicked my boots and socks off and slid into the bed without worry about the sleepshirt.

"Scoot over," I whispered. "Do not wake Mareke."

"Were you busy today?" Artanis asked.

"Terribly," I replied, reaching out to stroke her long, brown hair. It had always been a trick of mine to get her to fall asleep quickly. She had always relaxed when someone was running their fingers through her long chestnut locks.

"Mareke and I missed you at dinner."

I was sure that was only the case for my daughter, but did not say as much. "I will be here tomorrow. I promise."

Artanis gave a contented sigh.

ooooOoooo

The next morning, I once more rose before the sun. I stood and stretched and then turned around to see Mareke still sound asleep on her side of the bed. Artanis was in the middle blinking up at me.

"Do you want to go on my morning ride with me?" I whispered.

My daughter nodded eagerly and I pulled her out of the bed. "Go get dressed. Quickly, we do not have much time before my council will be after me."

Artanis went hurrying from the room and I went to the basin to splash water on my face and freshen up. Afterwards, I put on my outfit of plain brown breeches and a tunic to match over my undershirt.

When I met Artanis in the sitting room she was in her riding outfit. With each day that passed, I found more similarities between Artanis and her mother.

"Come along," I said, holding the door open for her.

Given the very early hour, I was surprised at how chipper Artanis was. Normally, she took a while to thaw out in the mornings, but she seemed excited at the prospect of a ride.

"Are you going to ride Firefoot with me or saddle Damhsóir?"

"I will saddle my own horse," she replied resolutely.

"Very good." I stepped into Firefoot's stall and pulled his saddle from the wall, buckling it around his belly snuggly.

"Oof!"

I left Firefoot's stall to see Artanis sprawled beneath the heavy saddle of Damhsóir. Artanis had been riding since she could walk and I had broken her mare especially for her, but the horse had grown faster than my daughter and subsequently, the equipment had gotten heavier.

"I would have helped you if you had asked," I said, lifting the saddle easily off of her and then hauling her to her feet. Artanis jumped around as I swatted the back of her tunic and leggings to remove the hay.

"I had it."

"I see." I placed the saddle on the mare and then let Artanis get back to preparing for the ride, chuckling to myself.

With Firefoot prepared, I led him out of the stall and waited for Artanis to do the same. Over the years, I had learned to saddle Firefoot as quickly as possible. It was a habit that had not died even in times of peace.

Finally, Artanis emerged, looking a bit more ruffled than earlier.

"Everything alright?" I asked.

"Yes. We are ready." She followed Firefoot and I out of the stables and once in the brisk morning air, we both mounted and left the city boundaries. "Do we have time to ride to the river?"

"If you are quick," I said, laughing as I spurred Firefoot into a trot and then into a run. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Artanis laughing wildly as she similarly spurred Damhsóir. Of course the mare was not as fast, but she gave a good effort.

It did not take long to reach the River Snowbourn at our pace. I had dismounted and was waiting when Artanis came thundering up. I reached up to help her down, but she swatted my hands away, instead sliding out of her saddle. It was a little ungraceful, but she kept her chin up and straightened her riding tunic.

"Here is the river as you requested," I said, smiling down at my daughter.

While I had an innate fear of bodies of water, Artanis was her mother's daughter through and through. Had I let her, she would have jumped in the river then and there despite it being absolutely freezing from the spring snowmelt in the White Mountains.

Every year, Artanis spent a couple of months with her family in Dol Amroth during the winter. While there, it was reported that she was in the sea constantly.

"Just my feet," Artanis said, hopping around trying to pull her boots off.

"Be careful. The water is swift this time of year."

As she approached the bank, I stood behind her, hopefully close enough to snatch her if she lost her balance, but I knew I would not be much more useful than that.

"Alright, that is quite far enough," I said when Artanis had let the icy water lap around her ankles. My reckless daughter merely looked over her shoulder and laughed at me.

"Uncle Amrothos called you a landlubber when I was there this winter," Artanis said, her brown eyes shining with mirth.

"Did he now?" I raised an eyebrow. "Your Uncle Amrothos has a lot of opinions for a princeling of little standing in his father's court."

"I am going to tell him you said that," Artanis threatened.

"Go right ahead," I said with a laugh.

My brothers-in-law had become a large part of my daughter's life. Since she had been a toddler, she had spent time with them and their families. Elphir and Erchirion were both married, while Amrothos would likely never settle down.

He had not changed at all in the eight years that I had known the man. Immediately after the War had concluded and celebrations were taking place in Minas Tirith, he had been searching for his hero's reception in the arms of the fair Gondoran women.

While Amrothos and I traded jests back and forth through Artanis, I respected him and his brothers a great deal. The Swan Knights of Dol Amroth had been formidable and I was grateful to have them as allies even after the War. More than that, I was grateful for Imrahil's entire family and the dedication they showed Artanis after Lothiriel had passed. Not having my own parents and having lost Theoden and Theodred as well, there was little family available to my daughter on my side of her family.

The sun rose in its full force reflecting and glinting on the water.

"We must return, Artanis. I have much to see to before my council meeting this morning."

My daughter did not huff or pout, merely nodded. As it had been only she and I for so long, she was well acquainted with my schedule. I watched as she pulled her socks and boots back on and remounted her horse.

"Do you think Mareke can swim?" Artanis asked as we made our way back to Meduseld a little slower than how we had gone to the river.

"I am not sure. You will have to ask her."

"Because if she can, then I can finally swim in the river this summer."

"Perhaps," I agreed, still nervous. I did not fret when she was in Dol Amroth. As I had been riding since I could walk, so had Lothiriel's family been swimming since probably before their first steps. I knew Artanis was safe with them.

When we approached the stables, Eowyn was walking into them from Meduseld, her swollen stomach leading the way.

"Aunt Eowyn!" Artanis exclaimed.

"Good morning. I see I am not the only one who wanted to start their day in the stables." She smiled at her niece.

"We have already been to the river," Artanis said. "Are you going to ride?"

"Not today. I was just going to check on Windfola."

"Can I ride in the pens for a while if Aunt Eowyn is going to be here?" Artanis asked me.

I glanced at my sister who nodded.

"Only as long as Eowyn wants to stay out here," I said firmly.

Artanis gleefully remounted Damhsóir and made her way to the large pens, trailed by a stablehand who would watch over her.

"I have not seen much of you lately, Brother," Eowyn said. "I hear you have been hiding from your wife in your study at all hours of the day and night."

"I am busy," I retorted.

"I am sure you are."

"What do you want me to say, Eowyn?" I asked, irritated.

"Nothing. There is nothing to be said. I am sorry this was necessary is all."

My temper was flaring. "You have much to worry about yourself," I said, glancing at the orb of her stomach indicating the impending birth of my niece or nephew. "I can handle my own affairs."

Without another word, I turned on my heel and left the stables.

I did not make it very far before I was stopped dead in my tracks by a shriek of pain. My heart stopped beating and I froze, but again there was a dreadful shriek which had me sprinting back around the stables to the pens.

Eowyn was hustling as fast as she could in her condition to where Artanis was lying on the dusty ground, clutching her arm.

"Your Majesty." The stablehand had gone completely white. "I told Her Highness that that jump was too high for her and Damhsóir. She did not listen."

"It is alright, lad," Eowyn said for me, as I knelt next to Artanis.

Carefully, I scooped her into my arms and once again went running back towards Meduseld. "What were you thinking?" I asked her over and over.

It felt as though we would never reach our rooms, but when I finally crashed through the door, Mareke was sitting at the dining table, writing a letter.

Her eyes were wide when she looked up and saw the state of Artanis and I.

"What happened?" she asked, quickly on her feet.

"She took a jump she should not have," I replied breathlessly.

Mareke's handmaid came out from our bedroom and lingered out of the way.

"Oyna, could you fetch a small goblet of the strongest wine the kitchen has."

"Wine?"

Mareke looked up at me and then back at Artanis' tear streaked face. "She is clearly in pain. It will help."

Oyna rushed off to the kitchen.

"I need to send for a Healer. I think she broke her arm."

"Can I look?"

I did not know if she was asking me or Artanis, still in my arms, but we both nodded.

"Set her on the sofa gently," Mareke said.

I did as she bid, Artanis sniffling all the while. Mareke knelt before my daughter and I hovered behind them, pacing a tight line.

Carefully, Mareke moved Artanis' hand that was clutching her injured arm. "Can you feel this?" she asked, taking the limp hand in hers and squeezing. Artanis shook her head. Mareke slowly moved her hands up my daughter's arm, squeezing as she went. Artanis continued to shake her head.

"She did not break her arm. She must have landed on her shoulder and dislocated it." Mareke looked up at me.

Artanis whimpered in fear, not understanding her own injury.

Mareke turned to her with a bright smile. "It is easy and painless to fix," she promised. "You will feel much better once we get that shoulder back in its proper place."

"You can do that?" I asked.

"I can."

Oyna returned with the wine and Mareke held the goblet to Artanis' lips, which had gone white. "Three gulps, alright? It will taste a little bitter, but it will help."

"I thought you said it would be painless," I said, an accusation in my voice.

"It will be, but I need her to be absolutely relaxed," Mareke replied calmly.

I attempted to steady my breathing, but I was still worried for my daughter. Artanis, for a little girl, was fairly rough and tumble. She was Rohirric to her core, but she had evaded major injuries for the most part. There had been scrapes and bruises, but no broken bones, deep cuts, or anything of that nature.

It did not take long for the wine to run its course through my daughter's small body. Her eyes glazed over and I knew she was finding it difficult to focus on what Mareke was saying.

"Artanis, I need you to lie on the floor flat on your back. Can you do that?"

Artanis nodded, but she was unwieldy as she slid to the floor next to Mareke.

Mareke knelt next to her and pulled the injured arm straight out to the side. Slowly she moved the arm so that it was above Artanis' head.

My arms were folded tightly across my chest as I watched closely. Artanis did not seem to be in any pain as Mareke then bent my daughter's elbow and pushed the back of her upper arm as though Artanis was reaching to scratch her opposite shoulder blade.

Feeling the joint with her other hand, Mareke quickly pushed Artanis' bent arm and I could have sworn I heard the pop as the arm was put back into socket.

"All done," Mareke said, smiling down at Artanis, who was clearly drunk on the wine. "Try to move it."

While her movements were not graceful, Artanis moved her arm back down to her side and then laid it across her chest with a giggle.

"Good as new," Mareke said, helping Artanis to sit up.

"Look at my arm, Papa!" Artanis exclaimed with a burst of laughter.

I could not help but join her. "I see that. You are lucky, little shieldmaiden."

"I almost had the jump," Artanis replied, still laughing.

"It would be best for her to sleep off the effects of the wine," Mareke said, smiling at the silliness of Artanis.

Once more, I lifted Artanis into my arms and carried her to her bedroom. I laid her gently in her bed and pulled her boots off before covering her with the blankets. She was asleep before I reached the door to the sitting room.

"The only pain she will feel will be a headache from the wine," Mareke said when I returned. She was standing by the arm of the sofa.

"I did not know you were a Healer," I said, looking at her briefly.

"I was once a restless child who needed something to do," Mareke replied. "My father allowed me to train with our Healers. It has been useful throughout the years."

I nodded. "I can see that. Thank you for your help. I am sure Artanis felt more comfortable with you than she would have with our old Healer."

Before Mareke could acknowledge my thanks, I had made my way to the door. "I will be behind on my work now. Send for me if she needs anything."

There you have it! Big things coming up for this new family. I hope you loved this update. Please let me know what you thought!

Happy reading,

Avonmora