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Chapter Six (Eomer)
"Eomer!"
As I was leaving the council chambers after a particularly grueling meeting about the impending harvest season, I turned to find Eothain hustling after me.
"Why have you not told me?"
"Told you what?" I asked, gesturing for him to walk with me to my study.
My friend latched onto my shoulder and shook me excitedly. "That your heir is on the way!"
Approaching the door to my study, I grabbed him and shoved him through, locking the door behind us. "How do you know that?" I demanded.
"I cannot tell you," Eothain said.
I rolled my eyes. "I could guess that it was Lady Oyna revealing secrets during your little trysts."
Color came to Eothain's cheeks and he looked away. "It is not yet known to the public."
"Well congratulations," Eothain said, still excited. "I shall keep your secret and hope for a boy."
I tried to smile at my oldest friend, but already the anxiety and worry had returned.
When Lothiriel had been expecting Artanis, the pressure nearly crushed me knowing that so much rested on the child that she carried and there was nothing I could do to control the outcome.
I had done my best to hide my disappointment when it had been announced that my first child was a daughter. Rohan had desperately needed an heir in the aftermath of the War.
That had not changed and I had put off attempting to secure the succession for a very long time, which only made the expectations, my own and those of my council and people, more debilitating.
When Eothain left, I sat heavily behind my desk and put my head in my hands. Once more, so much rested on a pregnancy and a tiny infant. As a King, it was a rarity for anything to be out of my control entirely. The stress had crept back immediately after Mareke had told me she was expecting.
I tried to focus on my work, but found that my breathing was erratic and my heart was pounding in my chest.
Standing abruptly, I headed for the gardens.
"Your Majesty?" one of my councilors asked as I brushed past him. I tried to ignore him, but he followed me for a few steps. "We were to have a meeting this afternoon, Sire."
"It is canceled," I said shortly, waving a hand over my shoulder.
Luckily, the man stopped and I was able to proceed into the gardens.
Summer was slowly slipping into fall and the cool air soothed me as much as anything would be able to. My pace was rapid and I soon found myself away from Meduseld and heading for the stables.
In a flash, Firefoot was saddled and we were thundering out of the city. I had no direction in mind and so I let the reigns go loose in my hand, letting my steed take me where he would.
Eventually, he slowed to a trot and then to a walk. "I wish we could keep going," I murmured to him lowly. "Just ride and ride until we could disappear."
I sat tall in the saddle and observed my surroundings. The hills around Edoras were still green for the time being, but they would change as the air grew cooler. I knew I could not run away despite the daily pressure of being King and the crushing heaviness of once more having an expectant wife who I needed so badly to produce a son.
Reluctantly, I turned Firefoot back toward Meduseld and we made our way slowly. When we returned and I had unsaddled, brushed, and fed my mount, I made my way back into the Golden Hall. Unlike most days when I would have gone back to my study, I made my way early to my chambers before dinner was to be served.
As I entered the sitting room, I was met by Lady Oyna. There was much I would have liked to say to her, but I refrained. "Where is your mistress?" I asked, when she had risen from her curtsy.
"In your bedchamber preparing for dinner, Your Majesty."
I nodded and entered the bedroom without knocking.
At my insistence, Mareke had added a young Rohirric noblewoman to her staff. Caladwyn was married to one of my younger councilors and a man who had been an advisor to me since I had taken the throne.
She was standing behind Mareke, braiding the hair around the crown of her head in a Rohirric style. Of course, my new wife looked nothing like the shieldmaidens. Mareke's wild, black curls hung down her back, but they added dimension to her appearance where the shieldmaidens typically had straight blonde or brunette hair.
I sat in an armchair in a corner of our room as Caladwyn finished her work. Dipping a curtsy in my direction, she left our chambers.
Mareke was uneasy in my presence. We were not in the habit of spending much time together outside of the required meals. As she was then expecting, our time together had dwindled even further as I was fearful of taking any pleasure in her body. I would not be able to live with myself if something happened to the child she carried and so I refrained, though I was not necessarily lonely.
"Oyna has told Eothain that you are expecting," I said without pleasantry.
Mareke winced. "Secret keeping is not her strong suit, I am afraid. I am sorry if you were blindsided."
"It is not your folly for which to apologize," I replied. "But it did get me thinking."
Mareke raised a dark eyebrow in my direction, turning on her stool to face me fully.
She wore a red silk robe from her home that was tied just under her bust displaying the tiniest of bumps on her thin frame.
"It is not customary for an official announcement to go out, but seeing as we are progressing rather quickly," I glanced at the bump of my child. "It would be best if Artanis was told tonight so that she does not hear it from someone else."
My wife nodded. "I agree. Would you like me to be present for that?"
"I believe that would be best," I replied, getting to my feet once more. "We shall dine privately just the three of us and have that conversation. I shall send a servant to fetch our dinner straight away."
"Very well. Could you send Oyna in on your way out?"
I merely nodded and left my bedchamber. Lady Oyna rose once more as I emerged into the sitting room. She gave me another curtsy and I sent her along to help Mareke dress.
I took a seat on the vacated sofa and propped my feet on the table, leaning my head back and closing my eyes.
I was not left in peace for very long, though.
"Papa! You are here early!" Artanis exclaimed when she saw me as she emerged from the nursery, Dernhild trailing behind her.
"I canceled a few meetings," I responded, opening my eyes and smiling at her as she hopped into my lap.
Giving a theatrical groan as she did so, I said, "You will not be able to do that for much longer. You will hurt your old papa. You are getting too big."
"That is nonsense," Artanis replied, delightfully wrapping her arms around my neck and burying her face there. "You are the strongest man in all of Middle-Earth," she said when she pulled back to look at me.
While I had regretted very much her gender at her birth, as she had grown from an infant to a toddler to the little girl who sat on my lap, I had grown to look past the disappointment that she was not an heir. As her strident personality had become more apparent, the only disappointment that lingered was that she could not rule when I was no more. Had she been a boy, Artanis would have made a very fine King indeed.
"And who told you such a thing?"
"No one. I just know it."
"Well you flatter me, mo leanbh," I laughed.
Over Artanis' shoulder, I watched Mareke emerge from our bedchamber. She wore a sensible gray dress.
Before she could join us, a few servants entered and deposited our meal on the dining table.
"I am starving!" Artanis exclaimed, leaping from lap and heading for the food.
Mareke and I both laughed as she scrambled onto her chair and began reaching for the basket of warm baked bread.
I pulled out Mareke's chair and then settled myself at the head of the table. "Vegetables too," I instructed my unruly daughter.
Artanis rolled her eyes in my direction. There were days I wanted to throttle her for her impertinence.
We all settled down to our food and were silent for a while. When Artanis finished and began to grow restless at the table, I put a large hand over hers.
"Mareke and I must tell you something, little one," I began. I had not thought through the best way to tell my daughter that she would no longer be the only child of the King.
Artanis looked between us excitedly. "Are we traveling?"
"No," I replied.
"Are we getting more horses?"
"No, we-"
"Do I get to quit my lessons?"
"Artanis!" I exclaimed exasperatedly. "Listen to me."
The little girl froze and looked at me, color rising on her cheeks at having been scolded.
I tried to make my tone more gentle. "Mareke is going to have a baby."
My daughter went absolutely silent, looking between Mareke and I, her eyes wide.
"That is wonderful news!" she nearly shouted, bouncing in her chair.
I felt my own face break into a relieved smile.
"When will the baby be here?" she demanded.
I looked to Mareke.
"Early March," she responded with a gentle smile of her own. I noticed that her hand strayed to the small bump.
"Well no," Artanis argued. "It cannot come then. I am always in Dol Amroth until the beginning of April."
"And you will be again this year," I said, brokering no room for an argument."
"It will be for the best," Mareke interjected when she saw the thunderous look that came over Artanis' face. "The baby and I will need some time to rest once they arrive. We will be in much better shape when you return."
"And we will have your usual belated birthday celebrations then," I promised.
My daughter pondered these things for a moment and then gave a sigh. "Very well."
"Now off to bed with you, you little scamp," I chuckled.
Artanis hopped from her chair and wrapped her arms around my neck once more. I kissed her forehead and then she went around to Mareke, beaming up at her stepmother. The smile slipped from my face a bit as she hugged her the same way she had me. "I am so excited, Mareke!"
"As am I," my wife responded.
Artanis bent down so she was peering at Mareke's thickened middle, though in the dress you could not tell that she was expecting. "Goodnight, little bairn."
After that, Artanis went skipping off to the nursery. "Dernhild!" she called. "You will never believe it!"
ooooOoooo
Towards the end of October, I was sitting in my study one afternoon, bored to absolute tears by the reports that were coming in from all over the Realm in regards to the harvest.
It was a lucky position I was in as the weather throughout spring and summer had been favorable and the harvest had been a success. As the King, though, it was still my job to be familiar with all that had been harvest in all of the regions of Rohan and what we could expect to be sent into the Kingstead for those of my citizens who did not live in the more rural regions and so would have to buy the crops in order to get through the winter.
I glanced up when Eothain entered my chambers, but he was looking at something over my shoulder out the window.
"It looks as though the Queen has acclimated nicely to our culture," he said with a warm smile.
I turned in my chair to see Mareke and Artanis riding Arroch and Damhsóir respectively down the hill of Edoras and onto the plains, trailed by several of our household guards.
Even from such a distance I could see both of their broad smiles and could tell that they were laughing with one another as they broke into a canter.
As I watched them, I realized just how young Mareke was. She had had a rapport with my daughter from the moment they had met and it made sense. Mareke was, in fact, closer to Artanis' age than mine.
Of course, Lothiriel had been young when we had wed, but I had felt much younger then too. I had not yet lost a wife or attempted to raise a child on my own. Though not that much time had passed since Lothiriel's death, I had encountered much in that time. I had finally come into my own as a King and as a father, but those burdens were not easy to bear.
While Mareke had known great loss at a young age with the loss of her parents, so far great responsibility had not been hers. At best, she had been a charming addition to her brother's entourage after he was crowned King of Harad.
With one last glance at Mareke and Artanis, I turned back to Eothain. "So she has."
ooooOoooo
The weather continued to grow colder, but that could not stop my daughter from our afternoon rides.
One afternoon in late November, I headed for our chambers to fetch Artanis for such a ride.
I entered the chambers and was about to call for my daughter, when I caught sight of a sleeping form on one of the sofas.
The fire was dying and I had to step closer to see who it was, completely unaccustomed to walking in on anyone napping.
To my surprise, I found it was Mareke. There was a book on the ground next to the sofa and I imagined that she had dozed off while reading.
Throughout her pregnancy, Mareke had seemed to be quite healthy and not afflicted by the side effects from which many other women suffered, but apparently she had grown tired.
I could not blame her. As winter had approached, Mareke had seemingly grown larger every day. I worried for the health and delivery of my child when I saw my wife who was impossibly slender.
Trying to be quiet I picked my way to the fireplace and added a few logs to warm up the sitting room. When the fire was producing a satisfactory amount of heat, I went back to Mareke. The blanket she had been using had slipped from shoulders and her arms were wrapped tightly around her chest though she continued to sleep.
As gently as I could manage, I pulled the blanket back around her, trying not to wake her. I wanted her to rest as much as she needed, hoping that it would bode well for a safe delivery.
I stood over her for a moment longer, eyes going to her swollen stomach that held all of my hopes and those of my people.
Without meaning to, my hand went to the bump. I had not once touched my child. Mareke and I were not that couple, united and excited at the prospect of a babe. We were two individuals navigating the stress and expectations on our own.
Under my hand, the child kicked a rhythm against my palm and I could not help but smile.
I heard the nursery door open and I looked up quickly to see Artanis bounding toward me. Quickly, I put a finger to my lips and gestured down at Mareke. My daughter silently stood by me and as I had just done, pressed two small hands to her restless sibling. She loved talking to the baby and I was grateful that Mareke entertained her antics.
I reached for Artanis' hand and pulled her away, shutting the door to our chambers quietly behind us.
ooooOoooo
Yule seemed to come around rapidly that year. Snow had fallen heavily across the plains and Artanis was delighted. We spent nearly every afternoon bundled in heavy cloaks and woolen mittens. Everyday she thought she was the funniest creature on earth when she packed a snowball and hurled it with all of her might at my back.
One afternoon as the sun was setting, we were finishing up an all out snowball war. "You win! You win! I surrender!" I laughed. Artanis had run out of snowballs and instead had thrown herself at my ankles, toppling me over into the snow.
It was more difficult than I thought to detach my scrappy daughter from my legs, but eventually I was able to do so and then threw her over my shoulder, heading for warmth in our chambers.
"Oh my," Mareke said, from where she sat on one of the sofas working on a piece of embroidery.
I dumped Artanis onto the other sofa which had her giggling madly.
Mareke gestured for a servant who was passing through. "Could you fetch His Majesty a hot mead and Her Highness a hot cocoa to be served with our dinner?"
"Of course, Your Majesty. Anything for you?"
"A hot tea would be most welcome, please."
The servant bobbed a curtsy and departed.
"I won the snow war, Mareke!"
"I was soundly defeated," I agreed with a chuckle.
Artanis hopped off the sofa, shedding her cloak and gloves to warm herself before the fire, revealing her breeches and tunic. If it were not for her hair, she might have been mistaken for a little boy.
"I can believe it. You are quite fearsome, little princess," Mareke smiled.
As Artanis recounted our afternoon to Mareke and her sibling, setting Mareke's embroidery aside so she could press her hands against the ever growing bump, I watched with a small smile and then turned my back to them, holding my hands out to the fire.
After a while, servants came bustling back into our rooms with trays laden with hearty food and warm drinks. "Dinner is served, Your Majesties."
Artanis, per usual, was the first one at the table, loading her plate down. I realized that I was quite hungry as well from our afternoon exertions, but I did not hurry to the table. Instead, I paused and offered Mareke a hand, bracing her upper arm as I hauled her to her feet.
"Thank you," she murmured, walking ahead of me and rubbing her lower back.
Before I sat, I pulled my wife's chair out and handed her the mug of warm tea that was on the tray in the middle of the table.
Dinner passed amicably enough as Artanis recounted the rest of her day and asked Mareke and I about ours.
"Bedtime," I said, when it was clear that my daughter was stalling, picking at the few remains of a slice of apple pie.
"Can Mareke tuck me in?" Artanis asked.
"Of course I can," Mareke replied, before I could answer.
"I have been thinking," Artanis said, coming around the table to pull Mareke to her feet.
"That is either very good or very bad," Mareke jested.
"Aldrith said that I should ask you if you would accompany me on the mother and daughters trip into the forest for Yule decorations." Artanis latched herself to Mareke's hand and looked up at the tall, dark woman.
Aldrith was the daughter of Caladwyn and was taking a few lessons with Artanis. It seemed the two were always putting the other up to something.
"I have not ever been able to go since I do not have a mother, but now since you and Papa are married, I think that is close enough," Artanis continued. "So does Aldrith."
"I would be honored," Mareke said with a warm smile.
"I am not sure that would be appropriate," I said at the same time.
Both Mareke and Artanis turned to me. I could tell that Mareke was flattered by the invitation, but a wave of jealousy had swept over me.
Since her arrival, Mareke had made an impression on my daughter and I had begun to notice that Artanis nearly always wanted to be at my wife's side. When Mareke was not with us, Artanis spoke of her without fail.
In that moment, I realized there were places, literal and figurative, that I could not go with my daughter, where she would need someone else. I hated it. I wanted to be everything to her. I was her only remaining parent.
"I think I am in good enough health that a trip into the forest should not be too taxing, if that is your concern," Mareke said gently.
I paced in quick turns at the head of the table, not sure what else to do with the excessive energy.
"I am not concerned for your health," I snapped.
"Then what-?"
I slammed my hand down on the table so hard it might have split along the grain. "Dammit, Mareke! You are not her mother!" I thundered.
My chest was heaving as I looked at Mareke. Artanis had given a little yelp, clinging to Mareke's skirts and burying her face against the side of her stepmother's belly.
Mareke put her hand on Artanis' head and I realized how I had frightened my daughter. Artanis was normally a fearless child, even in the face of my worst scoldings, but at that moment she would not even look at me.
"I know I am not her mother," Mareke said quietly. With some difficulty, she pulled Artanis away from her, brushing the chestnut hair behind her ears.
"Artanis," I said, trying to repent, but it only caused her to hide her face from me once more.
"Come, little princess," Mareke said gently. "We shall pick up where we left off in the tale of Maethild."
Artanis had told me that Mareke had begun reading to her about the wife of Helm Hammerhand. My ancestor had married a true shieldmaiden who had been a warrior beside him during the War of the Rohirrim, when the raids by Dunlendings on the Rohirric people had been constant and bloody. My daughter fancied herself to be just like Maethild.
I listened to Artanis' sniffles until the nursery door was firmly shut behind them.
I had to return to my study as I did not want to see Mareke and discuss my outburst, though I knew she would never make me do such a thing.
ooooOoooo
For the first time in her life, Artanis did not speak to me for a week. It was truly a force of will for the normally chatty creature, but she did not utter a word to me. It was left to me to decide how we spent our afternoons together. She would not say if she wanted to ride or walk or go to the library. She did not speak to me while we did any of those activities.
I was humiliated at dinner, either privately with her and Mareke, and even with our friends and when we dined publicly. My daughter could not be enticed to speak with me.
One evening after dinner, I could bear it no longer. I followed Artanis into the nursery as she went to join Dernhild.
Mareke had retired early that evening, leaving the public dining hall and retreating to bed.
"Leave us, please," I said to my daughter's governess.
Dernhild did so with a curtsy and when I looked at Artanis she was standing, glaring at me with her arms folded across her chest.
"You cannot continue to be this angry with me, mo leanbh," I said, sitting on the edge of her bed.
"You have not apologized nor changed your statement," she retorted, clearly no longer afraid of me.
I sighed. "No, I have not."
"I know that Mareke is not my mother," Artanis said, softening a bit. "But I do not remember my own mother."
I nodded.
"And I like Mareke a lot. She is very kind, she reads to me in different voices for different characters, and she told me she would teach me black magic when I am older."
I tried to suppress a laugh. Luckily, Artanis continued, unphased.
"She is my stepmother and I think that should count or else there are things that I will never get to do and things I will never know. Like the Yule traditions that all of my friends have already done so many times, Papa."
I nodded once more. "I know," I replied. "I was foolish and selfish and rude to you. I just wish that I could keep you all to myself, Artanis. It has been only you and I for so long."
"I still love you the very most, Papa," she promised. "But I think I love Mareke too."
"I understand. Then you shall go fetch the decorations with her and all of the other women and girls."
Artanis' face briefly lit up, but then she was somber once more. "I think you have to apologize to Mareke too. She did not deserve to be yelled at when she was only being kind to me."
ooooOoooo
The following day was the day of the gathering and so I rose early. Not only would Mareke be going out with Artanis, but I would be heading out with the men to select our Yule Log.
I made my way to our dining room, where breakfast was being laid out. Another servant entered and offered me the heavy, fur lined cloak that I had had our seamstress work late into the night to create.
"Your Majesty."
"Thank you," I turned and headed back to our bedroom.
Mareke was sitting up on the edge of her bed, hands stretched high above her head.
"Good morning," I said.
She jumped in fright, used to having the room to herself from the time she woke.
"Good morning," she replied.
I walked around the edge of the bed and held out the cloak. "You will need this for the gathering today. It is quite cold."
Mareke merely looked at me before taking the garment in her own hands. "Thank you."
ooooOoooo
Later that morning, the last thing I saw as I headed off with the men, was Mareke and Artanis heading off with the group of women and girls to fetch fir boughs, berries, and other seasonal decor.
My daughter was laughing and dancing around Mareke, twirling around before she tucked herself under Mareke's arm and tightly against her stepmother's side.
There you have it! I hope you loved it! As always, I'd love to hear what you thought about this chapter and what you'd like to see in the future!
Happy reading,
Avonmora