Tales of Lúthien's Brief Courtship
Lúthien could feel Jasper the ostler's son eyeing her from across the stable. She had known him since childhood. He had been an occasional playmate, one of her favorites actually. He was a rambunctious boy with dirty blonde hair and azure eyes. Mablung took credit for training her in horsemanship, but Jasper deserved more than an honorable mention. He told her all about horses. Then they would play hide and seek and tag. She would wrestle in the hay with him until Laisie or Mablung pulled them apart, clucking their tongues disapprovingly. It had been innocent horse play before they hit puberty. Now there was a queer feeling in her stomach when Jasper put his arm on her. He gave her a shove and she toppled harmlessly into a pile of hay. She felt a thrill, not fear or anger from his prank.
"Aren't we getting a little old for this, Jasper?" she giggled despite the words.
"If so, we must stop growing old this instant!" he replied.
He dove at her and they rolled about, trying to pin the other. She knew he was holding himself back. He was strong but gentle like the horses he bred and broke. He smelled of leather and horse hair and oats, but these were good smells. Earthy smells, and the scents of childhood. She enjoyed his touch but wished he would not hold back so much. His hot breath was on her neck. She wondered if he would be a skilled lover. She wondered if he would be as big as one of his horses and if those hands that were so firm with the animals wouldn't also caress and stroke her. She had never been broken in by any male still. She was no child. She was a maiden, ripening, curious and…
"Your highness," Daeron the minstrel's voice cracked through the air like a whip. "Has this oaf hurt you?"
"I assure you he has not!" Lúthien snapped.
Jasper sprang away from her as though she was contaminated goods. It hurt that he had been rolling around with her so vigorously and on the turn of a coin he was too much of a coward or too fickle to take the next step. He was crimson to his ear tips.
Daeron glared at him, "What gives you the right to put hands upon the Princess?"
"Enough, Daeron! We were only playing."
"Playing what, I wonder?"
Lúthien did not answer and Jasper continued to be mute. Even his horse whinnied, showing more stones than his keeper.
"Leave us," Daeron commanded.
"Yes, milord."
Jasper seemed all too eager to leave. Daeron reached out his hand to help Lúthien to her feet but she was hurt, frustrated, and angry.
"I do not need your help, Daeron!" she tossed a clump of hay into his face.
"Forgive me for ruining your fun, your highness, but that stable boy might have been trying to take liberties whether they were welcome or not."
"They were- Not unwelcome," Lúthien's cheeks became red and she hated herself for admitting that, even to Daeron whom she trusted with everything. "So don't try to vilify the poor boy."
Daeron frowned, "It does not matter."
"What?" Lúthien was incredulous. "It does matter very much whether I welcomed his advances or not!"
"I mean it doesn't matter because everyone knows Jasper is bonded to Willow."
Lúthien felt as though her stomach had dropped into her feet and a painful lump was in her throat.
"I did not know that."
"Of course you didn't and he would never have told you."
He stroked her cheek to catch a tear from her eye. Ashamed, she buried herself in the hay and began to sob.
"Little princess," Daeron said soothingly. "You know how I hate to see you cry."
"You would rather I be angry?"
"Are you? At Jasper? At me? At yourself?"
"A little of all three," she admitted. "I liked Jasper. You do not understand. Of all the young bucks that have thrown themselves at me either subtly or not so subtly, he was one of the few I might actually like to… like to… well… you know."
"Yes, I think I understand. And?"
"I thought you stopped us because you are like everyone else."
"What does that mean?"
"No one will give me any freedom in this kingdom. Least of all my father. It is unfair. I should be able to learn to enjoy my own body with whomever I please. That is how the common folk do it."
"That is not true."
"Yes it is! How many maidens have you courted, Daeron? I mean, simply courted, not bonded with?"
"About half a dozen."
"And how many have you bonded with?"
It was Daeron's turn to blush. "Two."
"You see. You are only a little older than me. Willow, she would always whisper to me about her suitors. She told me how it was the first time she bonded. She is younger than me."
"Well, Luthien, you could too."
"No. I can't. Half the elves at court have written me letters of love or sent me gifts or flirt with me in the hall. I do not know half of them half so well as I should like and I like less than half of them half as well as they deserve. None of them are worthy enough for my father and they know it. The common folk. It is even worse! They know they have no chance on earth or in heaven. They do not send gifts or letters. They simply call out bawdy jokes, the less civilized of them or do just as Jasper does. They give me hungry looks. They try to touch me. Just the other day Searos was pushing and shoving the other boys at the festival to try to dance with me. And then he grabbed my arm so roughly and spoke of undying love. He asked me to be his mistress. Told me as long as I didn't tell father he wouldn't tell no one either. Jasper is a friend. Jasper is actually very attractive. Jasper made me feel things. And then you told me he is bonded to Willow."
"Because it is true."
"It is true. And it is a slight betrayal. Perhaps Jasper never intended it. Some fellows lose control around me if they even think they stand a ghost of a chance. They have none at all, in truth. They only hope for a temporary romp. Even that, I cannot have."
"So you are saying you resent that there are so many that are willing to have you, but you cannot have even the ones that you want. And is there anyone you love?"
"Love?" Lúthien poked her head out of the hay. "Father does not want me to love anyone but him. And can I trust those that profess it? It is my beauty that plagues me more than anything. Ever since I was declared 'the fairest in the world' some think they love me but all they want is to bask in my perceived beauty. I am not beautiful! I am pretty perhaps, but I have seen some girls running about that have beautiful golden hair. There are rumors of girls with red hair even. And I will never be as lovely as my mother. She is the fairest. I do not know how I wound up with such a superficial title!"
"Because you are, Lúthien. What is wrong with beauty?"
"It drives people to do silly things."
"You are named the fairest not just because of your physical beauty. You have the loveliest of voices. I am the greatest minstrel of Doriath. That is not lip service. You dance gracefully. You are a princess that is kind as well as fair."
"There are many maids in Doriath that are beautiful and sing and dance too."
"But none are masters in all those areas and more, as you are. And you are a child of a Maia. Do not forget that."
"I just want to be a maiden! I want to be loved with all the passion a person is capable of! I want to be free! I want to experience the physical pleasures of love as well as the rest of it! I am denied all of these things! It is not fair!"
"So you seek only the physical pleasure right now?"
She was silent at that, "I suppose. I thought that would be the easiest and the best part, at least in the moment. I am so lonely, Daeron. And so curious. What is it like? I want to stop the spurious suitors in their tracks. I do not wish to break the hearts of those that are sincere that I cannot possibly love or wed, which no doubt will be all of them. So what can I do?"
And then Daeron had it.
"Let us play at being lovers. It'll be a fun game."
