The door closed as the last person finally left and Theodred strode over to lock the bolt. Clutching against the folds of her dress, Lothiriel's hands broke out into a nervous sweat. Now that the last of their family and friends had left, the bedding would take place. Lothiriel swallowed nervously as she tentatively sat down on the side of Theodred's-no, their- massive bed. She forced herself to remember that she and Prince Theodred now shared everything in this room. This was her new home, but all of it was foreign.
It was no great surprise to Lothiriel, previous Princess of Dol Amroth and now Princess of Rohan, that she would not marry for love. Raised in a noble household of Gondor, she had long known this fate awaited her. Nobility married to strengthen ties and create familial and business bonds. Marriage for love was a true rarity. As Lothiriel's Aunt often reminded her, in a truly noble marriage, respect was the stick that held the relationship together. With respect a strong partnership could blossom and maybe, if an exceptional pair was lucky enough, with time love could also develop.
The romantic outcome appeared improbable to Lothiriel, and she entertained little hope of it. She was now married to a man almost double her 20 years of age, and had never met him before three days previous when she arrived in Edoras. Her Uncle Denethor had commissioned the marriage with King Theoden and his advisers. Prince Imrahil, her father, had grudgingly accepted Denethor's orders.
However dismal the future may appear, though, Lothiriel was able to find some small joys. She had always known that Uncle Denethor would marry her off to the greatest alliance he could find on Gondor's behalf. The fact that it was to a noble, respected prince was a happy thought. Much better than a Haradrim king, or Dunlending chieftain. He would hopefully treat her with kindness. Also, she had a great love of horses, and for that there could be no greater kingdom to marry into.
Lothiriel sucked in a panicky breath as Theodred plopped onto the bed beside her and pulled her to him. He planted a careful kiss upon her forehead and locked eyes with her. Light gray like sea foam locked with dark blue pools. A line formed between his brows as he slowly took off his tunic, and she took her cue to do the same. Quickly, the thin gown lay upon the floor and Theodred unlaced his own breeches. Naked forms and veiled thoughts.
Theodred laid her naked body beneath his and leaned over her, his manhood invisible in the dark, yet she could feel it pressed up against her leg. A shiver ran down Lothiriel's body and she stiffened in near panic.
"You are beautiful," he murmured as his eyes appraised her naked body.
"Thank you, my lord," she whispered. He leaned in and brought his lips to hers. They had only shared one kiss before, a brief and chaste part of the marriage ceremony earlier that evening. This did not vary much from it, only lingered longer.
He frowned. "Please, call me Theodred."
"Yes, Theodred." His hand cupped the side of her cheek.
"You are also terribly young," he sighed into her ear. "You would willingly give yourself to me?"
"Of course my l-Theodred," she murmured stiffly.
"Out of duty, yes. But you would not be able to give me your heart." He seemed to make it a question, his eyes searching hers in the limited light.
"No, my lord," she whispered quietest of all.
"So be it." He delicately kissed her forehead once more and rolled off of the bed. Rummaging on one of his desks, he returned to the bed with something that glinted in the light in hand. The bed lurched with his weight as he joined her once more, kneeling beside her rigid body. Then, he brought the shining thing up and cut it across the palm of his hand-it was a knife.
"My lord!" Lothiriel gasped. "What are you doing?!"
"Making it so that you mustn't comply with the duty of giving me your maidenhead this night." Then, he released the blood from his hand and rubbed it into the sheets beside him. "The servants will be checking in the morning to see that the marriage bed has been consummated. The marriage, and my protection of you within these halls, is not valid unless this happens." Finished spreading the blood from his hands, he returned his knife to the desk and leaped beneath the covers. Lothiriel slowly joined him, on the opposite side of the bed.
Theodred's snores quickly reverberated across the massive bed. Rest did not come easily to Lothiriel that night, but a tiny knot of nervousness began to dissipate within her. Her new husband was, apparently, kind.
