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No Man's Child  by anoriath

~ Chapter 57 ~


"At the end of June I was in the Shire, but a cloud of anxiety was on my mind, and I rode to the southern borders of the little land; for I had a foreboding of some danger, still hidden from me but drawing near. There messages reached me telling me of war and defeat in Gondor, and when I heard of the Black Shadow a chill smote my heart. But I found nothing save a few fugitives from the South; yet it seemed to me that on them sat a fear of which they would not speak."

FOTR: The Council of Elrond

~oOo~

~ TA 3018 2nd day of Nárië: There is naught I can find in the Angle's charter that prevents whoever occupies the seat of the House from assuming that of the Head of the Council, should it be the hallmoot's will. The charter states only that both seats cannot be held at the once.

~oOo~


I left my lord in the solar, there naked amidst the clothes and bedding we had thrown aside.

There my lord pulled the curtains about us to shut out the world beyond our bed. In that small, quiet place, he submitted to my kisses, laying lax beside me. There, with his eyes fastened upon me, as, should he close them, he might forget where he was in the dark, he allowed me to lay blessings upon him of hands that caressed and the press of the weight of warm skin.

There I asked what he wish touched and I relearned the tickle of hair covering his breast, thighs, and belly. I asked where he wished my lips and I relearned the taste of salt o'er the taut sinews of his neck. I asked how I might give him pleasure, and 'twas then, at last, his eyes closed, and I relearned the sweet sounds of his moaning.

'Tis then my lord's eyes fly open. He takes in a deep breath ere he presses me to my back. At first, he rests his brow upon my shoulder, still and tautly strung above me. With his hands spread upon shoulder and hip, he holds me in place as might I yet still disappear from beneath him. I am unsure where his thoughts tend but they are not of pleasure found in our bed, for he grips me nigh to the point of giving pain.

"My lord." I speak soft but my voice sounds overloud in this small space.

His limbs jerk and his eyes flash upon me. Keen and bright they stab at me.

For lack of aught else I can think to do, I have lifted my hand to his face. "Hîr nín," I say and find the skin warm and damp with the heating of his blood beneath the tips of my fingers. There I draw them down his brow and cheek. Releasing me from his grip, his face softens and he closes his eyes to turn his cheek to my hand.

"What would you have of me, lady," he whispers.

"I would have you kiss me, my lord," I say, and he does.

'Tis then with slow, deliberate care, his lips travel from shoulder, to breast, to belly. He then takes my legs in his hands and encourages me to move up the bed and make room so he might settle between them.

Ai! The lord of the Dúnedain's dark head between my thighs is a greatly stirring thing that e'er has sparked heat at the mere thought of it. Bright pleasure sparks at the sight of his eyes glittering beneath fallen lids glancing upon my face from where he is bent o'er me. And so I gather his hair upon his neck so I may watch as he closes his eyes and takes tongue and lips to first my belly and thighs. Ai! So sweet his lips as the ripest of plums.

"Aye," say I about the moan caught in my throat, "hír nín," and my lord hums in response, his movements slow as were he nigh to drowsing.

I would laugh for the joy of it, were I not pulled deep in the tide of his attention. Aye, now I know him better, I know my lord a man slow to bed a woman for which he has no great feeling. But once he would take that woman to his bed, her pleasure of him pours fire into his belly. Should I pour such words to his ear it is sure to set him groaning and clutching me to him the tighter.

Oh, have I missed this so, the giving and taking of pleasure with my husband. So long had I grieved its loss. Nay! I shall not think on it. For here we lie. Here there is naught of pain and fear, but the slow reawakening of warmth at his touch.

Aye, soon enough I think I shall beg him to lay his body upon mine so I might watch as he slowly submits to his body's urgency. I wish to see each swiftly drawn breath and each restless shift of limb that hunts down that elusive spark rising just out of reach.

Ah, but we have time. No need to rush to it. For my lord's breathing slows and his shoulders gentle with my whispered praise for his attentiveness. I think it not long and I shall lose all force of thought and words to encourage it and he shall need take a stronger grip upon me for my inability to keep myself still.

Aye, had I the choice, I would stay here and forego all else. No more the relentless accounting of grain and beasts. No more the weary wondering who shall rise up against the House and should I have the will to prevent it. No more the sharp pangs of guilt at my daughter's crying. Oh, ai, how Elenir's cries had pierced through breast and bone! Even now can I hear the echo of laughter and smell the stench of foul smoke. Ai! The scream that throttled within my throat as it were a great hand gripped there. Had we been but a moment longer upon the pasture –

"Nienelen!"

Dimly, the slats of wood that are the bed's canopy swim into view ere their lines sharpen afore my open eyes. A hand has grasped mine and shaken it. 'Tis only then I look down to find my lord has raised his head and speaks urgently to me. It is not the first he has spoken, for his calling to me echoes in my ears. I know not whether I had made a noise or had turned still and cold beneath his touch and so had alarmed him.

"Oh! My lord!" I exclaim. Ai! The look of sorrow and shame upon his face!

"Hush, híril nín," he says low, for, indeed, hot tears come upon me asudden. He shakes his head, his face grave.

"We need not stop, my lord." I struggle to rise against the weight of bound arm and my lord's body upon me. "There is much else we could still do I have longed for and would give you pleasure."

But he is already arisen and grasps me about my waist and hip so he may gentle me down the bed.

"Nay, lady."

Once I am again stretched upon the bed, he wraps my leg about him so he might curl between my thighs and make my belly his pillow. There he clutches my ribs between his hands and his shoulders pin my hips. Heart-worn is his silence and he lies heavy upon me.

"Long did my desire for this sustain me, lady, but I am weary, and fear my thoughts are in a similar state and as difficult to tame," he says, his voice low against my skin.

His thumbs still in their play against my ribs. "I heard first the howling and laughter, and then saw thee running and knew what pursued thee."

It is not until I rest my hand upon his head, he releases a long breath and the line of his shoulders and back softens.

I cannot speak of my gratitude for my lord's watchfulness and the strength of his arm. It seems unfit for words and unworthy of what it costs him. And so, in their place, I run my fingers through his hair and scratch at his scalp for the comfort it gives him. His eyes drift shut. It is some time ere he speaks again.

"She has my mother's eyes, I think," he muses softly.

"Indeed?"

"Even had Mithrandir given me no news of her birth, still I would have known her mine at a glance. I wonder should she keep her look about her eyes as she grows."

"She is sure to have your mother's height." The wry tone of my voice must give me away, for it brings a smile to my lord's face, his beard scratching against my skin as his cheek moves.

"My little wren," he says ere he yawns broadly.

Aye, well, I have long become accustomed to my lord and his kin towering o'er me. Would not be much of a change.

I thread my fingers into the hair at the nape of my lord's neck, pulling them through to their ends and there run them along my thumb. Ah, his hair is longer than I had seen, and the ends ragged and greatly in need of trimming. It looks much as had he taken a knife to it at some point in his travels. So much does he take comfort in the running of my fingers upon his head, mayhap I shall yet convince him to allow me to see to it.

"Do you regret it, atimes, not choosing to travel to your mother's kin in the Blue Mountains?"

Startled, at the first I can think naught of what he might mean. I had thought him asleep.  But then the words set my heart to aching and I know them for what they are.  I am slow to speak, for should I give it voice, I am sure to go aweeping again, and I have had my fill of tears.  For only the once has he ever spoken of my kin, whether those fled to the Blue Mountains or of his time among the folk of Umbar or Harad, and never since.  

"Atimes," I manage.

"Then I will take you there to find them."

At this, I must stare at his dark hair as it glides o'er my knuckles and listen close to my lord's breathing. For I must breathe deep to still my grimace of pain and blink to rid myself of tears. I dare do little else or risk being swept beneath a sudden flood of longing.

"And when the Shadow is banished, we shall have peace," he goes on, his thumb playing upon my side. "You and I shall take up the seat upon the southern shores of Lake Evendim. There we shall call in attendance the Council of the Clans and refill Annúminas with light, and folk, and trade from all four corners of the Northlands. What say you, híril nín?"

I choke upon a laugh, caught by surprise at his thoughts. 'Tis a lovely dream and sure to have kept him warmed when the nights grew long and lonely. "Shall there be dancing, my lord?"

"Aye," he says. "As much as you might wish. You shall have your fill of it."

Aye, should there be any who could heal such wounds as his folk bear and bring such a dream to life, it would be him, this man who shall soon take to snoring into my belly; my lord of broken things.

"You had your choice of other women, my lord. Was it for this?" I ask and he tips his head back to look upon my face.

He considers me a moment ere he speaks.  “’Twas one of the reasons,” he admits.  “I would make the folk of the Dúnedain of the North whole again; those of the Angle, of the homesteads to our south, and the wandering clans of the Gornwaith in the hills.  And with you, and our daughter, I think we would have a chance at it.”

"Is that so bad?" he asks, when I say naught in reply.

I shake my head and smooth the hair back from his temple with my thumb.

Ai! Should only the peace he would win last beyond the sweep of his years and the Dúnedain of Arnor not fall again to wrangling o'er hilltops and fiefdoms, leaving the gleanings of a grim harvest for the men of the hills of Angmar and Dunland to pick over at their leisure, then my daughter and her children might know somewhat of peace as well.

Nay, 'tis lovely, the idea of it, but 'tis naught but a dream. Even should the Nameless One and his lieutenants be vanquished, we are a people scattered across broad swathes of land. Our forefathers paid heavily for their freedom again and again, and the price we shall owe in these next years shall cost us dearly yet once more. It shall be all we can do to hold what last few crumbs of it we can claim ere we are lost to half-recalled tales and snatches of songs.

"I had thought it was Halbarad's tale of the roast hen with onions and plums," I say, and, at this, he laughs full out ere he recalls himself and quiets.

Elenir stirs upon her mattress in the trundle bed beyond the curtains about us. "Mamil?" she calls, the word all but unrecognizable for her whimpering.

He falls silent for a little, but has not yet taken to drowsing for the play of his thumb against the line of my ribs. His daughter takes some time to settle, but then slowly comes her light breathing.

"Mayhap it was, after all," he says. "Or the sausage-stuffed pastries you first served ere I was fully returned to my strength."

"Nay, my lord," I say and poke at his shoulder. "Do not lie to me. 'Twas the smoked fish and goat cheese."

"Oh," he groans. He presses his nose and cheek to me and swallows, clutching me to him. "One day you shall cook for me again, and we shall feast and stuff our bellies full until your buttocks are soft and plump and your thighs so round for it they shall shiver and quake when I take my tongue to your cunny, but, until then, speakest no more of it, I beg thee!"

At that, I laugh and desist from torturing both he and I with tales of food we have no hope of tasting for many months.

"Her hair was bound in silken folds," I begin, his own hair warm between my fingers.

"You have a good memory, lady," he says, smiling with me. "I think I recited that one for you just the once."

"'Twas hard to forget, my lord," I say, whereupon, his voice soft and slow as his fingers slip from side to hip, he takes up the refrain.

Her hair was bound in silken folds.
Her round limbs uncovered lay,
Lit warm by fire in reds and golds

Amidst white linens shimmering.
Sweet her skin between my lips,
More sweeter still her sighs.
But naught compares to the warmth
Of mine ears clasped by her thighs.

Oh, ai! I would laugh aloud should it not wake our daughter, and indeed my lord grins broadly where he lays upon me.

"You promised me more verses of the same, my lord," I say and his hand stills upon me. "Do you not recall it?"

"Ah! I do, lady, but you must permit me more time. I am afraid, though the nights were long, I confess I had no heart for it while away."

"No matter." I run my hand o'er his head. "We are sure to have time," I say, but get no response. I know not why, but it sets my heart to aching in the silence.

"You said you had another reason to choose me as your wife. What was it?" I ask.

I can feel the rush of his breath as the smile falls from his face. So sudden is the change, my heart stills. I wonder should I have asked another question, had I so yearned for his voice. I know should he be considering his words or searching his memories for somewhat which might not offend his wife. I cannot see his face and know not what has occurred to him.

"Tell me true, lady," my lord commands softly. "Did you in truth stand afore the hallmoot and challenge our folk to slay you in front of my kin and overthrow the House?"

Ah! So much had I despaired of my lord's return, I had given no thought to him learning of it, and now know not what to say. I cannot think what he would make of it.

His shoulders stiffen and his hands still upon me when I do not reply. He has pressed his face to me and I cannot tell what plays upon it.

"Art thou angered?" I ask.

He shakes his head, but still does not speak. After some time, he sniffs and presses a kiss to my skin.

"I know not what I feel," he says. "Nay, I could not have stood by and watched you at it, but, in truth, I am greatly torn. What manner of man would put his wife is such a position as she felt the need to do such a thing? And yet, 'twas a bold move, lady!"

"Should your luck hold, my lord," I say, "you may yet have the chance of seeing somewhat like from me for yourself one day."

He huffs against me, and I am unsure whether he does so in disbelief I treat it so lightly or in good humor.

"I must be careful to keep my sword at hand at all times for your defense, then."

"You should only hope I do not turn my efforts against you."

This, then, does make him smile, for so I hear it in his voice. "Indeed! Mayhap I should grow more cautious in my attempts to vex you."

"That would hardly be like you."

This sets him to chuckling softly across my skin and his body to lying more easily upon me, and I cannot forbear from smiling. I return to carding his hair with the tips of my fingers.

"And you, lady," he says low. "Now you have had a taste of it in its fullness, have you aught to say of your reasons for accepting my offer of marriage? Were your thoughts filled with naught but duty?"

Ai! I am unsure how to answer, for there are reasons I had known when I had given my answer, and then there are those I have come to understand only later.

"I think," I say, "my duty to you and the Dúnedain was all I knew of you, then."

He makes a small, thoughtful noise, neither in agreement nor dissent. "And after?"

I take my time with my answer, for there is much pleasing in my view of my lord's dark head, his broad shoulders, and the long line of his back and legs lying where I can look upon them.

So long am I in my contemplation, my lord lifts his head to glance upon me, only to let loose a huff of breath and lay his head back down.

"So 'twas the pleasures of the flesh, then," he says, and I can feel his cheek shift against my belly with his slowly growing smile.

Mayhap I could agree with him and we could continue our teasing and the mending of our hearts. Indeed, his smug manner clearly invites me to taunt him for it. And, mayhap, with it, I could gentle him into attempting our love-making again, heating his blood with remembrances of times past when I had set him to cursing in a rolling tongue I knew not. But, though there is some truth to what he says, I find I cannot.

"My lord, I am acquainted with few people who, once they come to know thee, have not come to admire and love thee. Even those who speak against thee are drawn to thee, though they may not wish it."

I think this takes him by surprise, for he has no easy answer for me, but remains silent for a long moment ere he presses his lips gently to my belly.

And so, I do naught but run the tips of my fingers in circles down the back of my lord's neck, and though he gives voice, he does not take to speaking again. He groans atimes when I scratch my fingers upon the scalp at the back of his head ere, then, he takes in a long breath and, limb by limb, breast, and head, settles more heavily upon me. For long moments we are thus. I know no more of my lord's thoughts, for he breathes deeply and his hands lie lax against me.

"A willow switch and a spindle," comes my lord's voice, muffled and slow, and he huffs a breath against me. I must strain to catch his words.

"What was that, my lord?"

He does not give me answer but lies still upon me. With that, my lord breathes slow and his hands twitch against me as he dreams.

Here, I am warm and my lord's body a pleasant weight sinking me deep to the mattress. Here, I can release my hold upon the cares that are my burden, and, listening to the soft breath of both husband and child, close my eyes and sleep, for a little.

~oOo~

Once it was time and my lord awakened, he then parted the curtain that kept me from his view, and, lying upon our pillows, allowed his look to linger upon me as I poured water to the wide bowl of pottery upon our tall chest and bathed. When done, I was yet loath to leave and let him pull me to perching upon the side of the mattress. There I ran my hand upon my lord's breast and belly and he, his hand brushing gently upon my cheek ere he wrapped it about the back of my head, pulled me down for yet one, and another, and another kiss.

I know not how he bore it, for I am an unlovely sight. I bear red wales upon my face so deep, despite my husband's care, I bear faint scars upon brow and cheek and neck for it e'en now, and my eye so red and swole I can see naught but a slit of the day through it.

When I struggled to pull a clean shift upon my person, only then did my lord rise from his bed and gave me assistance, setting the strips of linen he had wrapped about me to rights and easing my arm through my sleeve. There he pulled laces that tightened my dress about my body, drew my hair into loose braids and knotted it at the nape of my neck as had been my wont when first we were married, and set my arm to the sling and a scarf about my head. He then drew me to sitting upon the edge of our mattress, and there rolled my hose upon my legs, knotting the ties that hold them above my knee and then kneeling afore me to slip shoes upon my feet. All this he did with a surety and skill that spoke of a long attentiveness I had not thought he had given.

"She should be awakened soon," I say, else our daughter would not sleep through the night. So worn had she been, she slept through our return to the solar and even now breathes deeply in her slumbers and seems not eager to rouse.

My lord nods and draws a hand down my free arm. "I will but wait until you have left to avoid giving her distress. Go run your errands and put your affairs in order, lady. I will see to her and the preparations for the morrow."

The time was indeed short, and there was much left undone I must give to other hands.

~oOo~

AN:  I wish I could say that I came up with the name for Aragorn as the lord “of broken things,” but I did not.  I borrowed it from @overthinkinglotr on tumblr.  She called him the King of Broken Things and I liked it so much I begged permission to use it. 

Go read her meta I love the way that Aragorn is the king of broken things.  





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