I just couldn't wait to get this update out. It's a bit longer than usual, but I couldn't think of good ending spot that would still allow me to get everything I wanted across. I can't wait to hear what you think! Enjoy!

Chapter Seven (Mareke)

Yule passed amicably enough. It was not a public celebration and so we spent time with Oyna and Eothain in a very relaxing manner enjoying warmed drinks, the Yule Log Eomer had chosen, and games and small gifts for Artanis.

Afterwards, we celebrated the new year with the nobles in the Great Hall. It was a taxing evening, being one of my first occasions I had helped plan since I had arrived in Rohan. Not many spoke to me, but a few offered their congratulations on the impending birth and their hopes for an heir.

I tried not to let the stress get to me, but it was nearly impossible. There was so much pressure on me and the child I carried. Eomer had waited long to remarry and attempt to conceive a son. The people had been waiting for a very long time.

As the winter moved toward spring, I tried to relax, but my thoughts were consumed with the need to give Eomer a son.

Late one afternoon in late January, I was sitting in the dining room, reading over a letter from Fisrah, who was offering all sorts of advice on preparing to give birth and what to expect once the babe was born. My nerves started back up and the child within me did a flip. I pressed a hand to my very swollen stomach, trying to calm us both.

There was a quiet clearing of a throat and I glanced toward the nursery to see Dernhild standing there. When she met my gaze, she curtsied respectfully.

"Dernhild," I said with a small smile. "Is everything alright?"

"Actually, Your Majesty, I would request your assistance with Her Highness."

I raised an eyebrow. "Of course. How can I help?"

"Well, I am not sure," the woman began. "We are packing her things for Dol Amroth and she is just out of sorts. I cannot reach her. I was hoping you might try your luck."

"I would be happy to," I responded.

Movement had become nearly impossible and I had nearly two months left. I scooted to the edge of the seat and then pushed hard against the arms of the chair to get myself standing.

I paused at the cracked nursery door and knocked gently. "Artanis?" I called. "Might I come in?"

I heard the little girl give a puff. "I suppose," she replied.

Stepping into the room, I saw that she had pulled nearly every piece of clothing from her wardrobe and drawers and was standing amongst the chaos with her hands on her hips.

"Can I help you pack?"

"I do not know what to take," she replied, wringing her hands before her, not looking at me.

The gestures were very odd. My stepdaughter had never once shown that she was indecisive or nervous.

"I see," I replied, stepping further into the room. "Let us start from the beginning." As carefully as I could, I lowered myself to my knees and began sorting through the clothes that had been strewn about the room. "Surely you will be swimming quite a bit. What do you wear for that?" I asked.

Artanis dug around in one pile before pulling out a few thick, sleeveless slips. She held them out to me and I folded them neatly and set them aside.

"Do you ride with your uncles?"

Artanis nodded.

"Well here are some of your riding breeches and tunics," I reached out and pulled a few more items into my lap, folding them as well. "We will not pack your boots as you will wear those on your journey there."

She went to the corner of her room and grabbed her boots, setting them near her long bureau of drawers.

"Why do you not set out the outfit you will wear to Dol Amroth?"

Artanis nodded and selected another pair of breeches and tunic.

Still I could see that she was anxious. "We are making quite good progress," I said. "Is something else the matter? Are you nervous for the journey."

The little girl scoffed. "Why would I be nervous about that? I have been riding my whole life and doing this trip for just as long."

I nodded, trying to hide a smile. "Is there something else that is bothering you?" To distract her, I reached for a few of her dresses. "I am sure you have formal occasions?"

She nodded. "My birthday and a few others." Artanis sighed and looked away from me. "I am nervous for you."

"For me?" I asked, slightly taken aback. "Whatever for? Do you think I will not be able to take care of myself while you are away? You have taught me much about Edoras. I will be alright for a few months, though I will miss you quite dreadfully."

"I know that, Mareke. You are very smart." Artanis continued to look away from me. "I fear you will die."

The bluntness of her tone nearly took my breath away.

"My mother died having me," Artanis continued. "And so this baby could kill you."

"You did not kill your mother," I said quickly. "Her passing was not your fault. She took ill."

"I do not want you to take ill," Artanis said. For the first time, her voice wavered and I watched her eyes well. "I did not have a mother for a very long time and now I do. What will I do if you are not here when I return?"

"Come here," I urged her gently.

Artanis took a few steps toward me and I held my arms out to her. Despite my stomach getting in her way, she collapsed against me. Immediately, her little body began to shake as she cried into my neck.

"I do not want you to die," she sobbed, muffled against my skin.

"Sshh," I murmured. Though I tried to comfort the little girl, my own heart was pounding hard in my chest. Since I had learned of Lothiriel's fate when I was in Minas Tirith, I had been nervous to carry a child of Eomer's. As my time drew nearer and nearer, it was a constant fear I carried with me. It was far from uncommon for women to perish in their childbeds.

I could not promise her that nothing would happen to me. That was unrealistic. "Do not worry for me," I whispered into her chestnut curls, rubbing her back in soothing circles. "I will be devastated if you do not enjoy your time with your family because you are preoccupied."

I barely refrained from jumping when I looked up into the doorway of the nursery and saw Eomer standing there, brows furrowed in concern. When he met my eyes, he turned around and left.

After another long moment, I held Artanis at arm's length. "Do not worry," I said again. I wiped her tears away with the pads of my thumbs and held her face in my hands. "Now, let us finish packing." I stamped a kiss to her forehead and went back to folding her clothes. In an attempt to calm both of us, I asked her many questions about her family in Dol Amroth and how she spent her time there.

"Oh!" Artanis exclaimed. "I have been meaning to ask you, can you swim?"

I nodded. "If I do say so myself, I am a very good swimmer."

Artanis furrowed her brow at me and in that moment, she looked very much like her father. "But where do you swim in the desert?"

I laughed. "At the palace where I grew up there are private pools. The water is brought in from a spring. Swimming is how we stay cool in those very hot summer months."

"Well perhaps when I return, Papa will let us go swimming in the river when it is warm here."

"That sounds lovely," I replied. "Do you not normally do that?"

Artanis shook her head. "You cannot tell him I told you, but Papa is afraid of water," she whispered.

"His secret is safe with me."

Half an hour later, Dernhild popped her head back into the nursery. "If you are done packing, Your Highness, it is past time you had a bath."

Reaching for the edge of Artanis' bed, I hauled myself to my feet once more, pressing my fists into my lower back. "Let me fetch you a special oil for your bathwater. It will make you smell even better."

I crossed the sitting room to fetch the vial of lavender oil that was sitting on the edge of Eomer and I's tub. In addition to smelling good, it would help calm the little girl's nerves and help her sleep after dinner.

Dernhild met me at the nursery door and took the vial from me. "Just a few drops in the warm bath water should do the trick."

The older woman gave me a small smile and bobbed her head before disappearing to tend to the princess.

Eomer was sitting on one of the sofas before the fire. He had one ankle crossed over his knee and was perusing a long document, a mug of ale in his free hand.

"Is she alright?" he asked quietly, not looking up at me.

"I think so. A little overwhelmed is all."

I did not pause to continue the conversation and instead disappeared into our bedchamber for a few minutes of peace before dinner.

ooooOoooo

Two days later, Eomer escorted Artanis and I to the stables for the princess' departure for Dol Amroth. My hand rested on his offered forearm and Artanis held onto his other hand. Despite the conversation we had had earlier in the week, she was skipping along, excited to visit her relatives by the sea.

Eomer oversaw the saddling of her horse and shared a few words and instructions with the soldiers that would accompany Artanis, Dernhild, and the rest of their party.

While he did that, she came to me. "I cannot get my arms around the baby," she exclaimed, trying to hug me.

Carefully, I squatted down in front of her, though my balance was absolutely awful by that point. Artanis then wrapped her arms around my neck.

"Do you think you have everything?" I asked.

She nodded against my shoulder, still clinging to me.

"All will be well," I murmured. It was not necessarily a promise that I would be alright, but that no matter what happened, Artanis would be fine eventually.

I tried not to let my fear of my own fate impact how I said farewell to my stepdaughter, but I did find myself hugging her tighter than I had intended.

I sensed Eomer's presence before I opened my eyes and saw him standing behind Artanis. With one more squeeze, I released her and nudged her toward her father.

I watched as Eomer tightened the clasp of Artanis' cloak and made sure she would be warm on her journey. It would be a few days until she and her party reached a point where the temperatures would be warm enough to remove her heavy garments.

A new panic settled within me as I watched the pair. There had been no instance so far in our marriage when we had been without Artanis. The void of her presence in the coming months seemed to stretch endlessly before me.

"Off you go. You are your grandfather's problem for a few months," Eomer chuckled lightly, but I could tell that he was struggling to send her on her way. "Tha gaol agam ort (I love you)," he said with more emotion.

"Tha gaol agam ort," Artanis replied before mounting her horse.

I stood behind Eomer and waved to Artanis as she spurred Damhsóir out of the stables. "Be safe!" I called, cradling my stomach with the hand that was not waving.

Eomer stepped out of the stables, following the group. He stood completely still in the doorway until they disappeared behind the first hill.

Without a word, he turned and offered me an arm once more. As we headed uphill, I leaned more heavily on him than I normally would have.

Eomer slowed his pace to accommodate me as we made our way back to Meduseld.

As we entered the Golden Hall, I was breathing rather heavily. I felt Eomer's huge hand on my lower back as he guided me to our chambers.

I did not think it was anything more than his usual chivalrousness and that was confirmed when he said nothing of Artanis' departure and did not inquire about how I was feeling physically or otherwise. Instead, he informed me that he had business with his council and then would be at the training rings for the rest of the afternoon.

He did not inquire after my plans for the day before he left and so I was alone in the sitting room.

Gingerly, I sat on one of the sofas and stared into the fire.

When I found out I was with child, I had high hopes for my marriage. I thought that the quick conception of our child might endear me to Eomer, but it had not. As I had come to understand, everything I did, whether for him, the Realm, or his daughter was merely a duty that did not require his thanks. What I did was expected of me. Up to that point, I had met his high standards, not exceeded them and so our relationship had remained the same as it had begun.

"Has the little demon set off?"

I looked up, Oyna having broken me out of my thoughts.

Sighing, I nodded.

ooooOoooo

At the end of February, I was positively huge. All of my movements were hampered by the child I carried. My back, hips, and legs all ached constantly, but I kept my complaints to myself.

After Artanis had left, Eomer and I spent even less time together than we had before. Without his daughter present, he could find no reason to return in the evenings for dinner and so I spent most of my time with Oyna, though she was increasingly absent as well.

Late one night, Eomer had still not returned to our rooms and I tried not to let my mind run wild with where he might be. It had been obvious since the day we were wed that he was a man with needs that required sating. From the day I had told him that I was expecting though, he had not shared my bed. I was not naive. I was a daughter of the harems in Harad. I knew how men were, but it was something different to be faced with those weaknesses in one's own husband.

"What are you still doing up?" Oyna asked, pressing her hand to chest as she came creeping back into my chambers long past midnight.

"I could not sleep."

"Is there anything I can do?" she asked, sitting on the sofa across from me.

"Carry this babe for me?"

"I hope to carry my own soon," she said, bashful for the first time in her life, looking down at her hands in her lap.

"Excuse me?"

"Eothain has asked me to marry him," Oyna said, looking up with a huge smile on her face.

I could not help but match her expression. "Really? Has he spoken to His Majesty?"

Oyna nodded. "He has, and Eomer-King is in favor of the match."

"That is wonderful, Oyna. I am so happy for you!"

"Thank you," she replied. "Eomer-King did insist that Eothain write to your brother. The King said he would add his own recommendation when writing to Na'man, but I was hoping I might send a letter from you as well? Just to be sure that Na'man will agree."

"I cannot see why he would not, but I will be happy to help."

We were silent for a moment.

"You are certain you want to spend your life here? In Rohan?" I asked, breaking the silence. "I would release you from your duties if you wanted to return to Harad," I said, though it would break my heart to do so. Without Artanis, Oyna was my only companion.

"The two people I love most are here," she said earnestly.

I could only nod around the lump in my throat.

We sat for a while and spoke of how Eothain had proposed during a sunset ride across the plains. It all sounded very romantic and while I was happy for my dearest friend, I was so jealous I could hardly stand it. Their courtship had been fast, but I could see the genuine affection between the two. I had been amazed to be around them and to see how frequently they spoke to one another, how conscious Eothain was of where Oyna was in any room and how he would glance at her nearly constantly when they were separated.

When we bid each other goodnight, I had Oyna help me to my feet. I sent a servant for parchment and ink and since I couldn't sleep, I began my letter to my brother, extrapolating on Eothain's many virtues and how the additional tie to one of Eomer's closest friends could only help our treaty. As I did so, bitter tears of envy rolled down my cheeks.

I was careful not to let them hit the parchment.

ooooOoooo

One evening when, I hoped, I had mere days before the babe's delivery, Oyna and Eothain joined Eomer and I for dinner.

I found it odd that Eomer had requested such a thing as he had not since Artanis had departed. But I wearily made my way to our private dining room, sitting heavily at one end of the table. Eomer was already seated, perusing a document next to his place setting.

We waited in silence for our friends.

Finally, Eothain and Oyna entered, lost in their own world, she clinging tightly to his arm and him smiling broadly down at her. When they realized Eomer and I were already there, they turned their attention to us and paid their respects.

"At the end of every day, I am surprised that there is not news of a bairn, Your Majesty," Eothain said with a jesting smile as he sat to my left.

"You and I both," I replied. It was not a joke in my mind. I was growing more miserable by the hour. I felt as though I had not slept in months, nor eaten properly due to absolute lack of room for an appetite.

"They will come when they are good and ready," Oyna said, laying her napkin in her lap and pouring herself a goblet of wine.

Servants entered bearing steaming platters of food and the men quickly loaded their plates down, while Oyna and I waited. Though I put food on a plate, I knew I would not do much more than push it around with my utensils.

Once more silence lingered over the table, but Eomer took a large pull from his mug of ale and looked up at the rest of us. "I am going out with the Muster of Edoras to hunt Uruks in two days time," he said.

And so I had an answer to a question that had been bothering me for several weeks. Would Eomer be around when his child was born. In that one statement, it was abundantly clear that he had no such notions.

"What?" Eothain asked, a fair eyebrow raised.

"We have had more reports that there is a large band of the beasts heading for the foothills from the mountains."

"I understand that," Eothain said. "But why are you going?"

"Has something addled your brains lately?" Eomer asked, giving the quickest of glances toward Oyna. "I am the King and the First Marshall. And so it is my duty to lead the Muster."

Eothain ignored the barb. "And you think it wise that you go?"

"Wisdom has nothing to do with it. This is a duty."

"May I speak frankly?" Eothain asked.

"Have you not already?" Eomer replied, an edge to his voice.

"You have no heir and you would go out and put yourself in danger?"

"I have not yet had an heir and I have done similar campaigns a hundred times since taking the throne."

The men were getting heated.

The blood had drained from my face at the mention of Eomer having no heir. I tried to steady my breathing, but as the day of my delivery drew ever nearer, I found the panic taking a stronger toll.

"I do not understand why you are so upset, Eothain. They are just Uruks."

"Even you cannot dodge all blades and arrows!" Eothain exclaimed. "What happens when a poisoned Uruk blade slices your flesh?" he demanded. "Even if the Queen is soon thereafter delivered of a healthy son, there could be war! Your people are not thrilled at the prospect of a half-Haradrim heir. You think peace will last if you are not here to protect your child? Your wife?"

"I have made my decision. One hundred and twenty eoreds are headed to Edoras as we speak from around the Kingstead and Harrowdale. I shall leave the day after tomorrow."

Eothain turned to me. "And what do you think of this, Your Majesty?"

I was taken aback to be addressed at all amidst the arguing.

"It is not my place to disagree with His Majesty," I replied quietly.

I could feel Oyna's eyes on me. Eomer nodded and looked to Eothain.

"Is that not just what you need, Eomer? Someone else who can only say 'yes' to you!"

"That is enough! Do you forget to whom you speak?" Eomer yelled, getting to his feet and making his way around the corner of the table towards Eothain, who also stood.

Fearing that there would be blows over the dinner table, I reached out and grabbed Oyna's arm, beseeching her silently to do something. I thought perhaps that Eothain might see reason if she spoke, knowing full well Eomer would never listen to me.

"My lords," she said quickly. "Please. Let us not distress the Queen so close to her time."

Both men, chests heaving, looked down at me. I knew I was pale. I could feel my hands shaking in my lap.

"Come Oyna," Eothain said, walking around the table and offering her his arm. "We shall finish our meal elsewhere."

Oyna looked quickly at me and I could only nod, releasing her.

"You have not been dismissed from my presence!" Eomer thundered.

I jumped in my seat, but Eothain merely glanced over his shoulder on his way to the door. "Your pride shall be the death of you, Eomer-King."

ooooOoooo

Late that night, I found myself unable to get comfortable. It seemed more pronounced than usual and I was certain it was due to the argument at dinner.

As I had dozed off and on, I was not certain when Eomer had returned to our bed, but as I jostled around once more, with my back to his side of the bed, I felt him move.

My husband snatched one of his overstuffed pillows and shoved it so it was wedged between my back and the mattress.

As I rolled that way, resting on the pillow I gave a sigh of relief. My body hurt from carrying the child, but as I was constrained to lying on my sides at night, my hips ached terribly.

"Thank you," I murmured.

ooooOoooo

Despite Eothain's best efforts, Eomer left as he had said he would to head into the foothills of the White Mountains two days later.

He insisted that I did not need to send him off and so I stayed in bed as he rose before the sun and set off.

Grudgingly, Eothain went with him.

Oyna and I were left alone, but our moods were quite different. Oyna was fretting for her beloved and I was exhausted.

Three days after Eomer's departure, I woke as the plains were beginning to lighten. Once again, I had not slept well, but had managed a fitful rest in the very early hours of the morning.

Managing to sit up, I groaned, pressing my hand to my stomach. I winced at the slight pain, but tried to stay calm. My midwife had said that I might experience such cramping before I was ready to give birth and so I did not get my hopes up, though the tightening of my stomach had begun just before I had gone to bed the night before.

Using the post of the bed after I had rested for a few moments, I hauled myself to my feet and headed to the basin in the corner to splash my face with cool water. As I bent over the basin, another cramp had me inhaling sharply.

Slowly, I made my way to the closet and pulled my heavy robe from the back of the door. The plains had not yet experienced a spring thaw and my chambers were fairly cold.

I did not want to wake Oyna if she was sleeping peacefully. I knew it had come to her infrequently since Eothain's departure and so I took the book I had been reading from the nightstand and sat in the chair by the dying fire.

It was incredibly hard to focus on the tale of the Eotheod, the North Men ancestors of the Rohirrim. I was waiting anxiously to see if the pains would continue.

As the morning progressed, they did. In the beginning they were coming every ten minutes, but by the time Oyna entered my bedchamber, according to the clock on the mantel, the interval was closer to seven minutes.

"Mareke? Why did you not send for me?" she asked, taking a seat in the other chair after throwing a log in the fire. "It is freezing in here! Have you been up long?"

"A while," I replied. Before I could continue, another pain had me rubbing my stomach with both hands, the book being long forgotten on the arm of the chair.

"Are you alright?" she asked, brows knit together in concern.

"I think the baby is coming," I replied.

"Are you having pains?"

I nodded, glancing at the clock once more. "They are getting closer together."

"Shall I fetch the midwife?" Oyna asked nervously.

"Not yet," I relaxed during a break in the pain. No longer was it just a tightening of muscles in my stomach and back, but an actual pain. "Could you help me up? I have to stand or move or something."

Oyna obliged and helped me to stand. Once I was on my feet, I could feel how low the babe had moved within me. If I thought I had been off balance before, it was nothing compared to how it felt to walk with the child situated low in my hips.

I walked around the room for nearly an hour, pausing every few minutes to let a pain roll through me. Oyna sent for breakfast during that time and encouraged me to eat and drink something. As we had gotten closer to delivery, my midwife had reminded me that I would need to keep my strength up. She had elaborated on the importance of eating well until the delivery when I had mentioned that I had no appetite.

"No porridge," Oyna promised as the tray was set down on a table in the corner. It was the first time I had laughed all morning.

After eating a little bit and drinking a goblet of water, I continued my pacing. The pains were coming stronger and faster and I knew my time of movement was coming to an end.

"Perhaps you had better send for the midwife," I gasped after a very intense pain nearly took me to my knees. I held myself up on the mantel.

Before Oyna could open the door, a servant had knocked. "Your Majesty?" she asked timidly. I was sure word of my distress had spread rapidly through the Golden Hall. "Lady Leofwyn is here."

"Leofwyn?"

"Your Majesty," the older woman bustled through the door.

Oyna conferred quietly with the servant who then went hurrying after the midwife.

"Eomer wrote to me before he left. He thought you might like me to be here for this and it seems I arrived just in time."

Before I could respond, or even take into consideration what she had said about Eomer, I was reaching out for her. Quickly, she took my hand and supported me under my arms. As the contraction ended, there was a rush of liquid down the inside of my legs.

"Take a deep breath," she instructed softly.

I shuddered for air, but listened as she gave more encouragement.

"Lady Oyna," she said softly. "While we wait for the midwife, could you fetch a fresh basin of cool water and a few cloths?"

Oyna, nearly as stricken as I was, could only nod before hurrying from the room.

When I could stand once more, I reached for the bed, lying against the plush pillows, unable to hold myself up any longer. "What if it is not a boy?" I asked miserably.

"Then you will have a daughter who will be all yours," Leofwyn said, helping me from the heavy robe. "And the sons will come later."

The midwife returned before Oyna. "Your Majesty," she curtseyed in a hurry. "You should have sent for me earlier."

"Yes, well, this latest stage came upon me in rather a hurry," I replied.

Leofwyn took my hand as the midwife pushed my nightgown to my hips and went to examining me.

"Only a little ways left to go," she assured me. "Everything seems fine."

Oyna returned with the basin of water and Leofwyn soaked a cloth and pressed it to my forehead, neck, and chest.

Over the next few hours, the contractions got closer and closer together until it felt like there was no break at all.

"Nearly time to push," the midwife assured me. "You are transitioning."

I cursed in my own tongue and then looked to Leofwyn. "Why did you ever do this more than once?" I growled.

"You will see," she said with an indulgent smile, that would have irritated me if I had had time to notice before I was curled around my stomach and groaning against the pain.

Oyna stood in the corner, terrified as I wrapped my hands in the bedsheets and tears streamed down my cheeks. "The babe is coming!" I exclaimed.

With another quick check, the midwife agreed and I was permitted to bear down.

Luckily, the pains slowed down so after each mighty push I gave, I was able to relax for a moment or two, lying against the pillows, soaking in my own sweat.

"Why is nothing happening?" I demanded after an hour of pushing to no avail. I could still feel the babe exactly where it had been and it felt as though we had made no progress.

"It can take a while for first time mothers," the midwife said. "No reason to be alarmed."

At that point I was not alarmed, I was exhausted.

"You are doing wonderfully," Leofwyn assured me as I slumped back against the pillows once more.

Another half hour passed and my energy was draining quickly.

"Perhaps we might have more movement if the Queen was upright?"

"Upright?" I sobbed. I was in so much pain. It felt as though I would be that way forever. The sun had long since reached, and passed, the apex of noon. As I glanced out the window, I saw that it was actually setting.

"Lady Oyna?" the midwife gestured my friend forward. "Help Her Majesty onto her knees."

Oyna took a deep breath and climbed onto the bed. As the midwife and Leofwyn helped, I was pushed gently forward so I was kneeling. "Your Majesty, you might find it helpful to brace yourself on the headboard."

I turned so I could grasp the sturdy wood frame and pushed once more.

"You are so strong, Mareke," Oyna whispered in our tongue.

"I cannot do this," I replied so only she would understand.

"Yes you can. You are almost there. Soon you will have a babe in arms and it will all be over."

I nodded and pushed with all I had.

"Just like that," the midwife said, from where she was kneeling behind me.

I actually screamed at what came next. "Yes, that is the head. Take a moment and rest, do not rush it. I can see lots of dark hair."

Not able to help it, wanting so badly to be done with the pain, I pushed hard.

With a burst of fluid, I was free of the burning and stinging, though I was still in a delirium of pain and exhaustion.

"Once more," Leofwyn urged me.

On the next pain, I put my chin to my chest and bore down from my completely depleted stores of energy.

Before I could register that I had my body back to myself a shrill cry filled the room and my head snapped up from my chest.

"What is it? What is it?" I demanded as Leofwyn and Oyna helped me carefully avoid the cord of life as I was laid back down on the bed.

The midwife had tears in her eyes as she presented me with the bundle she had hastily wrapped in a towel.

"You have borne the Crown Prince of Rohan, Your Majesty."

A sob escaped me as I took my son into my arms, pushing the towel away so I could see his scrunched and purple face. Just as the midwife had said, there was a abundance of dark hair.

There were a few more pains as the afterbirth was delivered, but I was unaware. I barely even heard the midwife when she informed me that I had torn very badly and would need to be stitched.

"No wonder," Leofwyn said over my shoulder. "He probably weighs three quarters of a stone."

Nothing mattered to me at that moment. I had succeeded, but more than that my heart was overflowing. I could not look anywhere but at the child I held, my son.

"See?" Leofwyn helped me to move my nightgown and get the babe to latch. "The pain is already a distant memory."

As the midwife went to work on repairing my body, I could only stare down at my son. Oyna laid next to me and grinned like a fool at the baby.

"He is beautiful," she gushed, tears welling in her eyes.

After my son had eaten his fill, Leofwyn gently took him from my arms and deposited him in the cradle at the foot of the bed. "We should get you cleaned up, Your Majesty, and have fresh linens on the bed. The midwife will bathe the Crown Prince as well."

Agreeing, though I did not want to leave the baby, I allowed Oyna and Leofwyn to help me to my feet.

If I had thought the pain was over, I was wrong. Without the baby to distract me the pain came crashing down in one wave. Every muscle in my body was sore, my breasts ached despite the recent feeding, and I could hardly walk. Finally, I realized the damage that had been done.

"She cannot sit in a bath," the midwife said, as we disappeared into the lavatory.

Servants had been sent to fetch buckets of warm water. Oyna had to support me as I stood in the tub and allowed Leofwyn to care for me as though I were the child. Gently, she washed every part of my body, some causing more pain than others.

Afterwards, I was wrapped in a linen sheet and sat gingerly on a stool. Oyna took over washing my dark curls free of the sweat that had soaked them since early that morning. She massaged coconut oil into the ends and combed my hair methodically, easing my discomfort somewhat. When she was through, she rubbed lavender oil on my legs and arms.

"Hurry!" I snapped as I heard the baby crying through the door.

Leofwyn pulled me carefully to my feet and Oyna put a fresh robe around my shoulders. They both helped me to the fresh bed before the baby was deposited once more in my arms. No one existed any longer. I did not feel the midwife pack rags between my legs or when they put heavy furs over me and pushed a goblet of water into my hands.

It was only my son and I in the room.

ooooOoooo

I woke long after midnight to murmuring at the foot of the bed.

"Your Majesty, your armor," Leofwyn whispered.

A torch had been lit and I saw that Eomer was back. He and Leofwyn were working hastily at the ties of his armor, trying to set it on the floor gently.

"You should wash your hands after your travels," she advised.

Eomer hurried impatiently to the basin in the corner of the room. I watched silently as she shoved his undershirt sleeves to his elbows and scrubbed viciously with the cake of soap. He hastily dried his hands and went back to the cradle.

"Now you may hold your son, Your Majesty," Leofwyn bid him with a huge, tired smile.

Gingerly, Eomer reached into the cradle and pulled the swaddled bundle to his massive chest. It did not seem as though the baby stirred at all in his father's arms.

"What shall you call him?" Leofwyn asked.

"Theomund," Eomer responded with pride. "To honor all of the men who taught me to be king. They will serve him well."

After he spoke, I was shocked to see his shoulders shake with silent tears. His relief at finally having an heir must have been immense, but I wondered also if he did not miss those men terribly at all of the milestones in his life. Had even one of them lived, none of us might be in that room at that very instance.

After a long while, Eomer laid his son back in his cradle and turned to the door to rest after his campaign and travels.

As he did so, he caught my eye. "Well done, Mareke," he said.

And then he was gone.

ooooOoooo

The next day, I woke groggily, body aching all over. Oyna was there, holding Theomund and swaying around the room with him.

"Is he hungry?" I asked.

Leofwyn rose from the chair before the fire. "The midwife has sent a wetnurse," she said. Before I could protest, she continued. "Not for all of the time. But after careful examination after the delivery, she deemed it necessary for you to sleep through the night. He is your responsibility during the day."

I sighed, but nodded, not being able to fathom how awful I would have felt if I had not been able to sleep after the previous day's ordeal.

"The King was here," Oyna said as she sat on the edge of my bed. "He wanted to let you rest and so he took Theomund into the sitting room for a while."

"He did not want to speak to me," I corrected her bitterly, but I did not say more in Leofwyn's presence.

Later that morning, as I sat in bed nursing Theomund, a servant knocked. Oyna bid them enter and we quickly saw that it was not one servant, but several and they all bore something in their arms.

"What is this?" I asked, not bothering to cover myself.

"Gifts from His Majesty," one replied. They all bowed and backed out of the room.

Oyna went to a trunk and opened it, pulling out several bolts of very fine fabrics. There was cloth of gold, crushed violet velvet, red silk that might have been sent from Harad.

One servant had set a cask of beautiful jewels on the table and Oyna showed me diamonds and rubies and emeralds the size of Theomund's fists.

"The Queen's jewels," Leofwyn murmured.

I refrained from commenting that I had been the Queen for nearly a year. Apparently it was only to be recognized after the birth of the Crown Prince.

Multiple vases of fresh flowers had been set on nearly every surface of the room and trays of sweet treats had been brought as well.

"This is a flagon of wine that was bottled to celebrate Prince Theodred's birth," Leofwyn said, lifting a bottle.

For the first time since my marriage, I cried at the state of it. Most wives might have been grateful to receive such gifts, but they meant nothing to me. All I wanted was for my husband to inquire after my health, to offer sincere congratulations and thanks, or to sit at my side and enjoy the miracle that was our son together.

But once more, I was alone.

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Happy reading,

Avonmora