Chapter 3

 

-7- months later

 

-Minis Tirith-

 

 

 

Arwen snuggled into the covers and scowled at her husband's back.  "Can you not spend one morning in bed?"  She immediately regretted the sharp tone but didn’t indicate such feelings to her husband, annoyed as she was with his rising yet again, before the sun had risen over the mountains.

 

Her body had begun to change, and with it, her normally light, cheerful disposition. She’d become far too moody lately and at times she began to think it was because of the mortal child she carried within her – at least, it was a convenient excuse to blame her husband for yet another act beyond his control.

 

Surely no elven woman behaved in such a manner. Arwen had never been one to snap at someone for no good reason, lately the unlucky someone turned out to be her husband, and it perturbed her. The wonder and joy at their child’s conception in the rebuilt city of Annuminas had vanished to be replaced by Arwen’s incredible lack of anything that resembled a temper.

 

Aragorn glanced over his shoulder, a small apologetic smile on his face. "This morning, especially, no. An Easterling ambassador will be arriving this afternoon. I need to conduct court business early so that we may be done in time to greet him."

 

Arwen sighed and rubbed her cheek against the soft silk of the pillow.  She knew he had duties to attend, a kingdom to govern, but just once, could he not spend the morning in bed with her? She knew the answer to that question and didn’t bother to voice it.

 

Aragorn smiled down at her and leaned across the bed to place a gentle kiss at the corner of her mouth.

 

"There will be a banquet this evening. Will you be well enough to join me?"

 

Arwen rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. "Yes, Estel. The sickness seems to have vanished in the last few weeks. I'm simply tired, very tired, now."

 

He trailed gentle fingers down the side of her face, "Then sleep, love. There is no need to rise so early." He pressed another kiss to her cheek before whispering. “I would have you by my side this evening if you are well enough.”

 

Arwen sighed and stared up at her husband, unsure if she should be annoyed or grateful. She forced a smile to her lips, truly worried why she believed nothing he said as of late. Even words of love, whispered in the night, had begun to chafe at her.

 

"I should sit court with you at least once this week." She finally said, pushing aside thoughts of the tiring evening to come.

 

He leaned down to brush his lips against her cheek and whispered, "I think the court understands your absence."

 

At this, a wide, contented smile spread across her lips and she swept her hands over her swelling stomach. "I would surely hope so. They’re getting their long awaited heir to your throne."

 

Aragorn gave her a wry smile, knowing that she had become as tired as he of hearing the nobles muttering about the lack of a royal heir.

 

His hands followed hers, rubbing across her stomach with reverence and awe. The change that had come over her within the last few months was both amusing and daunting.  The feel of the babe within his wife, a babe created out of their love, was a miracle, one he wanted to experience every day.

 

After a few moments of silence, Arwen asked, "Do you think me beautiful?"

 

Aragorn blinked. "What?" he asked, unable to be sure he'd heard her clearly.

 

She stared up at him, annoyed at having to repeat herself. "Am I still beautiful? I'm so big, everything is swollen  - right down to my fingertips. You, you don't tell me that I'm beautiful anymore."

 

Aragorn shook his head and forced himself to think fast. Not in so many words had he spoken of beauty as of late, but, in his mind, his actions spoke louder than any words he could possibly utter. But, this morning, it appeared she needed to hear him say the words, and he smiled. "Melda, you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. You always will be." He leaned down and leaned his forehead against hers. "You look radiant, Arwen. Even more so as our babe grows safe and secure inside you."

 

Arwen smiled slightly, his answer placating her for the moment. She couldn't help but feel depressed that her beauty was being diminished as his child grew inside her. Arwen found herself thinking that there were so many pretty women at court, capable of catching the handsome King’s eye.

 

Aragorn stood, finished fastening his tunic and then bent over the lovely woman lying so beautifully in his bed. "I must go." He pressed a quick kiss to her lips but when he tried to pull away, Arwen's hands slid around his neck to hold him in place.

 

A groan emanated from deep within his chest as he slid one hand down her cheek and secured the other behind her head and lifted it to deepen the kiss. "Melda," He whispered, trying unsuccessfully to pry himself out of the far too comfortable position in which he'd found himself. "If I don't leave now, I will be here for hours and court will definitely begin late."

 

"Yes, yes." Arwen released him with a sigh, large eyes grazing down his body as if to assess his prowess. "Go, before I trap you here and your court must fend for itself for the next few hours."

 

A mischievous twinkle flicked across his crystal eyes and he grinned. "Promise? Later?"

 

Arwen snuggled beneath the thick cover and pulled the material to her chin. She glanced at him and muttered, "Perhaps," before rolling onto her side, her back to him.

 

"Tease," Aragorn muttered as he walked out to begin his day.

 

 

 

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The herald stepped forward as the large double doors opened to admit the Easterling party.  “Presenting the noble Lord Kor, emissary of the noble and honorable Ulfang, Mighty King of the Easterlings.” 

 

Aragorn and Arwen remained seated as they approached. The court remained silent as the retinue walked slowly down the hall and toward the throne. Murmurs flowed through the crowd as they caught a glimpse of a veiled woman walking closely beside the Easterling Ambassador.

 

Kor’s eyes flicked from the King to his Queen, seated next to him, albeit in a slightly smaller seat to designate her station. If the emissary was surprised at such an arrangement, it was only visible in his eyes, and those eyes moved down the court as if expecting an assassin to lash out from between the gathered nobles.

 

Guards flanked the Ambassador and the veiled woman so closely that they could not be seen from any direction save head on. Faramir glanced questioningly at his King and Aragorn gave him a barely recognizable nod, indicating that he had seen this veiled stranger as well. From his position in the Stewards seat at the base of the steps that led up the dais to the throne, Faramir watched the veiled stranger carefully. Eowyn was seated next to him, with Imrahil and his sons seated opposite, representing the largest holdings of Gondor.

 

Citadel guards were strategically placed around the Great Hall, leaving no room for an assassination attempt even if the Easterlings were to be so foolish. Nobles from around Gondor, and even the Northern Kingdom populated mostly by Dunedain, had been invited to this gathering to witness the beginning of a treaty between the two once bitter enemies. And they had all noticed this veiled stranger walking with the Easterling Ambassador. It was highly irregular for such secrecy to arrive in a visiting retinue.

 

Every Gondorian noble was dressed in the most appropriate formal garb, from head to toe, every noble in Court was represented by their family colors. From the splendid black and silver of the King and Queen, to the white of Ithilian and the Blue and silver of Dol Amroth, each noble was dressed in their best for the historical event.

 

The Easterling ambassador stepped forward and bowed slightly. "King Elessar, it is an honor."

 

"Likewise, ambassador. Welcome to Minas Tirith." Aragorn stood and inclined his head slightly. The thin circlet, that adorned his head, sparkled as the light of the afternoon sun glinted through the large windows.

 

"We intend to hold a banquet in honor of your visit and of the negotiations that are to take place between our people," Aragorn began, his eyes flitting across the gathered entourage of men who had accompanied the ambassador.

 

"Excellent. We would be most honored to attend." The ambassador smiled widely as Aragorn raised his hand and indicated they retire for the afternoon to settle themselves before the evening’s festivities.

 

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"Lord Elessar," The Ambassador greeted the King with a slight incline of his head as the toast finished.

 

"Yes, Ambassador?" Aragorn answered, favoring Arwen with a loving smile before turning his attention to his guest.

 

"Our King has sent to you a gift which I would like to present to you now."

 

The chattering crowd became silent and waited for one of the two men to speak. Rumors had been running rampant all evening about this mysterious veiled woman who followed on the heels of the ambassador. Even the Citadel guard had been on an extra alert, in case this gift had anything to do with something that could harm the King.

 

"A gift is not required," Aragorn answered slowly, seeing his personal guard tense. "However, I am quite aware of your customs at occasions such as these. Please proceed.”

 

The man smiled widely and motioned for the veiled woman sitting next to him to stand. "This is the King's youngest daughter. He has bade me to present her to you as concubine."

 

The silence that followed this announcement was deafening. Had the smallest pin dropped in the farthest corner of the banquet hall, the sound would have been heard by everyone seated within.

 

Aragorn could feel Arwen tense beside him and slid his hand across her own, squeezing it in reassurance.

 

The Ambassador, however, had not yet finished. "Our most noble Lords have many such women. For when one's head wife becomes with child," the man nodded politely to Arwen, " there are still duties to be performed."

 

Arwen's grip on her husband's hand tightened and Aragorn found it difficult to suppress a groan.

 

Shocked gasps rippled down the hall as all eyes flicked from Aragorn to Arwen to the Easterling Ambassador and the 'gift' that stood beside the dark-skinned man. The ambassador removed the veil to reveal a very young woman, a child by all Gondorian and Armorian standards.  She had hair black as night and it hung down her back like a mane of purest silk. Her eyes were framed with long, dark lashes, and the dark pools themselves were clearly open windows to her soul. She stood bravely as the table of nobles turned to stare, some quite entranced by her beauty.

 

"While-" Aragorn cleared his throat and tore his eyes from the child that had been presented to him. "While this gift is most appreciated." Arwen's grip tightened and Aragorn dared not look at her. "I must politely decline. I am aware of the custom your nobles have of taking more than one wife. However, such practice is not recognized within my realm."

 

"Yes, Lord Elessar, we are aware." The Ambassador began. "Our customs in this area are very successful and we believe your nobles would benefit greatly by beginning this practice."

 

More murmurs erupted from the gathered nobles and Aragorn could even hear a few of the comments. Some, not to his great surprise, were in favor of being bound to more than one woman.

 

"I understand, My Lord. But I must-"

 

Arwen stood and the Ambassador's mouth snapped shut. The Queen of Gondor rested her hands on her swollen belly, rubbing them slowly over her abdomen so none could miss the possessive reaction she'd had to the Easterling's offer.

 

"I am quite capable, even in my current condition, to perform these duties you wish your concubine to relieve for my husband." Her voice was calm but firm and every noble in the hall was grateful not to have that intense, dark stare turned on them. "As King Elessar has said, we must - he must – respectfully decline your offer."

 

The ambassador, disbelieving that the King of such a mighty nation would allow a mere woman to speak for him, began to respond, as if he had not heard the elven Queen.  "She is yours in any case, Lord Elessar. Our King would be most displeased if I returned with his daughter."

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Aragorn glanced at his wife. Fuming as she was, he was proud that she had the strength and dignity not to speak after the Easterling Ambassador's statement.

 

"Then she will be given a home with one of my most trusted noble families." Aragorn commented dryly. When he glanced around the hall, the rumoring chatter nearly drove him to kick everyone out. Instead, he announced. "I would like one of the noble families to take in this lady, give her a home, and teach her our ways. Who among you, will do this?"

 

Silence greeted the King's request and the child glanced at the floor, embarrassed that she was being made such a spectacle.

 

Aragorn's eyes fell on Faramir but as the Steward met his King's gaze, Eowyn turned her attention to the King and sent him such a scathing look that it would have wilted a lesser man. Aragorn set his jaw, realizing that in the household of the Steward would not be a good choice to foster the Easterling 'gift'. The King shifted his gaze to his left to where Imrahil and his two unmarried son's sat. Yes, Dol Amroth would be where the Easterling 'gift' would be educated. Far enough away from Aragorn and his court to satisfy his seething wife, and high enough in stature within the realm of Gondor as to satisfy any requirements the Ambassador may have.

 

"This is highly irregular," The ambassador's eyes flicked across the crowd before settling on the King.

 

"As is your gift to my husband," Arwen stated clearly, and none in the hall could mistake the fury in her eyes.

 

"Not for us, Majesty." The ambassador answered quickly, eyes flicking over the pregnant queen. "We have our customs and they work quite well." the man's eyes flicked to Aragorn before turning back to Arwen.

 

"As do we," Arwen stared at the dark-skinned man, realizing immediately that the Easterlings held very little regard for women. "Our most different from your culture would be that the firstborn in Numenorean society is automatically named the heir."

 

Ripples echoed down the hall at Arwen's comment. While this practice had not been prominent in Gondor, it had been in the Northern Kingdom. But the South had not dealt favorably with their Northern kinsmen in many generations and did not like to honor such traditions. Even with Elessar's ascension to the throne, this had not been mentioned. There had been no such plans to mention it unless the Queen bore her husband a daughter instead of a son.

 

The Easterling's eyes narrowed but Arwen continued. "Should I bear my husband a daughter, she would be named his heir, regardless if a son is born at a later time."

 

Aragorn closed his eyes momentarily and took a deep breath. Then he gripped his wine glass and fought not to down the entire contents in one gulp. This was not something that needed to be discussed. Not now. It was possible that this could not only alienate the Easterling ambassador, it would most likely cause dissension among the ranks of nobles that no longer followed the old ways. He could only imagine the heart palpitations some of those nobles sitting at the table were having at this moment. The King wouldn't be at all shocked to find one keeled over at the mere thought of Aragorn's heir being a daughter.

 

"That is -" The ambassador swallowed heavily. "Irregular."

 

A smile crept along Arwen's face as she threw the Ambassador's words back at him, "Our customs in this area have been very successful. Perhaps your nobles would benefit greatly by beginning this practice."

The Ambassador choked and Aragorn nearly spewed the mouthful of wine he'd just sipped. He swallowed the liquid as quickly as he could and cleared his throat. "Please, we can discuss our customs at a later time. A decision about this issue will be made after our negotiations have completed." Aragorn didn't dare look at his wife. He knew she would not be pleased to have him cease this line of conversation so abruptly and could only imagine the daggers her eyes were shooting at him. "This is a banquet to honor our Easterling guests and we will have plenty of time to compare our vastly different cultures."

 

Beside him, Aragorn knew Arwen was seething. If she hadn't been pregnant, and experiencing all of the hormonal shifts that women in such conditions experience, perhaps she would be a bit more calm in the face of this new challenging development. Instead, he could feel the tension in the great hall rise tenfold and it was flowing from his wife as lava flowed from an erupting volcano.

 

The ambassador nodded in respect. "My apologies, Lord Elessar, if our customs have angered you in any way." The man did not glance at Arwen, nor did he apologize for his words.

 

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Much later, in their chambers, Arwen was pacing, her eyes burning as Aragorn readied himself for bed. After the incident at dinner, she had insisted on staying at his side for the entire evening, through the ball after the meal, and even through the politics that followed, when the other women had long retired.

 

"He didn't even bother to apologize!" Arwen seethed. Her gown, beautiful in its elven design and simplicity, frustrated the pregnant queen even more when she could not pull apart the lacings quickly enough. "It is clear that these people regard women as possessions and not equals."

 

"Yes, they do." Aragorn stepped behind her and slowly unfastened the stubborn ties and slid the gown down her shoulders.

 

Arwen whirled on him and scowled. "Their behavior was unacceptable!"

 

"Yes, it was." Aragorn agreed as the gown pooled at their feet. He slowly began to unfasten the single tie that kept her chemise closed.

 

"It will not happen again," Arwen said, her tone softening as her husband's callused hands brushed against the bare skin of her neck. She closed her mouth and stared as he drew the chemise from her body, allowing it to pool at their feet, with the rest of her garments.

 

When she glanced at him, her eyes narrowed. He was clad only in his undershirt, which was open to the waist, and breeches, which were also partially unfastened. It was clear he had not finished readying himself for bed before moving to help and calm his wife.

 

"No, it will not happen again," Aragorn answered, hands lingering at the long column of her neck, before sliding up to cup her cheeks. "I have no need of another - to take your place -  even temporarily." He leaned in to press a delicate kiss to the corner of her mouth, eyes never leaving her face.

 

“You found her beautiful.” Arwen scowled, taking a step back to carefully gauge her husband’s reaction.

 

The momentary hesitation, as Aragorn struggled to figure out what she meant, cost him dearly. 

 

Arwen’s tone changed to a horrified scathing insult. “So very dark, and small – perfect size to lie beneath you. Since I am so very large and unsavory to your eyes!”

 

“Arwen,” Aragorn took a step forward, his eyes soft, “That is not true and you know it.”

 

“I saw how you looked at her!” Arwen screeched. “You didn’t even have the decency to look at me!”

 

“Do you think I wanted that cold, angry stare, with which you favored many a noble today, turned on me?” Aragorn asked, eyes narrowing when he realized that speaking softly would not temper his wife’s anger. “I declined this ‘gift’ for you, and my own peace of mind, for that matter, and it could very well cost Gondor a long-awaited peace with the Easterlings.”

 

“Ah, yes, and that would have been the only reason you’d have accepted this woman in the first place,” Arwen turned away and snatched a brush from her desk. As she began to pull it through her hair, tears began to slide down her cheeks.

 

Aragorn could see her face in the mirror and his gaze softened. “Melda,” He reached toward his wife and slid his hands over her shoulders.

 

“What’s happening?” Arwen asked in a small voice, tugging it through her tangled hair one last time before tossing the brush onto the table in frustration. “What is happening to me?”

 

Aragorn wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her against his chest, enveloping her in his protective embrace.

 

“My body is changing, and with it, I am becoming a nasty, vile woman.” Arwen dropped her head into her hands and began to sob.

 

“You are becoming a mother. Fiercely protective of her child and mate.” Aragorn said simply and smiled slowly when Arwen raised her head and stared at their reflection in the mirror.

 

“I made quite a spectacle this evening, didn’t I?” She asked in a small voice, eyes searching his through the reflection.

 

Aragorn smiled and tightened his arms around her shoulders. “You showed everyone that you, and only you, are perfectly capable of bringing me all the happiness I will ever need.”

 

Callused hands slid to her cheeks and turned her around in his arms. When she placed delicate hands against his chest, he smiled warmly. “ You are the only woman I will ever need or want in my bed.”

 

“The Easterlings-”

 

“Will have to understand that our customs are not up for discussion or alteration,” Aragorn finished for her as he leaned forward to press a slow, lingering kiss to her salty lips.

 

Slim fingers gripped the parted tunic tightly as his fingers curled around her neck and brought her lips into his, deepening their kiss.

 

When they parted, minutes later, Aragorn covered her hands with his own and brought each one slowly to his lips. As he kissed each finger, their eyes locked and Arwen could see the incredible depth of his love.

 

“I’m sorry, Melda,” Arwen whispered, lowering her eyes in shame.

 

“Not necessary, Indonya,” Aragorn leaned his forehead against hers for a brief moment before his eyes passed across the table behind his wife. “But,” The King grinned widely before taking a step toward the table and removing the forgotten brush. “It appears that we both are in need of some relaxation after this evening’s activities.”

 

Arwen stared not quite understanding.

 

He guided her to her chair and helped her to sit, a small chuckle escaping at the long sigh that escaped her lips as she was finally able to relax. When he began to run the brush through her hair in long, sweeping strokes, she nearly melted into the cushions.

 

“Oh Estel.” His name was a breathless sigh as it escaped her lips. “That is so – feels so wonderful.”

 

Fingers replaced the brush as he began to massage her scalp, tugging ever so lightly at the strands of ebony hair. She became nearly boneless in the chair beneath his touch, slowly sinking deeper into the cushions with each passing minute.

 

When he stopped his attentions, Arwen didn’t even have the strength to glance up to see why he’d stopped.

 

“And now,” Aragorn stepped around the chair and scooped her into his arms. “To bed.”