Chapter XVII

I sat in the reading room with my chin high, and in good posture, rather than my usual laid back atmosphere. Éowyn had been so kind to tell me that Wormy had arranged this cosy little get-together in the reading room and that I should not arrive first, for decorum purposes. Well I said that decorum should go do something that would be innapropriate to say among children, Éowyn turned ashen, and retreated to the apparent safety of her room. Ha! Guts of steel that woman has not. If she cannot take unladylike language from me, she is not going to take it well at all from men on the battlefield. Hmph. Score one for me.

So I went straight to the reading room, not allowing pointless formalities from preventing me from enjoying myself reading what Rohirric books I found interesting. Éowyn said I had looked stunning. I am quite sure I looked like a lummox all dressed up for a dance or a masque and reading a book that girls my age usually would not read.

It seemed like an eternity before there was a curt knock on the door, though it must have been only a few minutes.

"Enter." The word came as a sharp scrape on glass, quick and deft, but searing and acrimonious. This man needed to know that he walked on thin ice around me, dangerously thin ice.

The door opened and in stepped Marris. His black hair hung was pulled back and suspiciously looked like it had been groomed. His clothes were immaculate: a scarlet tunic and leggings as black as night, and a shiny pair of black boots. I instantly stood and curtsied, more out of fear than respect.

"My lady, there is no need for that."

A perfectly masculine bass was his voice. If I were the female heroine in one of Éowyn's sappy romance novels, I would be swooning and groveling at the man's feet by now. It takes a lot more for me to do that, however.

At first, I had refused to look him in the face, but now I looked him square in the eye as coldly and cruelly as I dared. I wished we were outside. The reading room's walls seemed to slowly advance around me.

"Good afternoon, my lord."

He smiled politely, but it was a blank smile and I could not tell if he really meant it or not. He motioned toward a chair.

"Please, sit."

I sat down on the padded wooden bench where I had been sitting, and to my utter annoyance, he did not sit in one of the chairs, but next to me on the bench. He lounged lazily back against the curved corner of the bench, one of his arms resting along the length of the back of the bench, and the other on the bench's arm. He stared at me with a half smile on his face, as he stretched his long legs out in front of me.

I sat perched on the edge of the bench and stared down at his black leather boots that set before like a foot-rest. He shifted to cross them at the ankle. I turned and watched him, and I am very sure he saw me utterly terrified, all form of the past cold semblance gone, and instead left with sheer blind horror. I do not know why. He was not threatening me or hurting me, or even staring at the wrong places on my body. But I felt that if I should not get away from him at that very instant, I should suffer a long painful death.

He had to have seen my terror. It would have been impossible to not see it, but there was no response from him.

I could not move. I felt as if I were standing in the middle of a white frozen wasteland, arms stretched out, calling for help, and knowing that it would never come. I turned away from his face and played with the folds of my dress, all confidence that had been with me when I dress had disappeared. What on Arda was wrong with me?

"You have matured into a very beautiful woman, milady. It is hard to remember the day that Théoden King dragged you into Meduseld, so scrawny and dirty. You have truly blossomed."

His handsome features smiled again, and I felt like I was going to die. I managed to choke out a harsh "thank you, my lord" before I sensed vomit threatening to make its way up my throat.

If this reaction happened to me when I was just sitting with him, what would happen when we officiated the vows? What would happen when he had to consummate the marriage so that the blasted bloodied sheet could be shown?

A thousand knives were tearing at my skin and my eyes began to water out of pain and fear. My heart beat wildly, and a single tear trailed down my left eye, the eye away from him. I turned away slightly so that he would not notice, and allowed the tear to imbed itself into the fabric of my dress. I pretended I was rubbing my nose while I wiped away the marks so that should I need to turn my face toward him, he would not see the trail. Why on Arda was this happening to me?

After a few more statements on his behalf and a few more monosyllabic replies on mine, he decided it would be romantic to caress my cheek with the back of his hand. I could not control my reaction of shying away.

He looked at me in a smug way, as if he was going to enjoy himself with me. I took several deep breaths and tried to pretend that it was all a dream, and that I would wake up tomorrow to Findulwyn pouring a bucket of water over my head, and that I was needed to scour the floors, once again. I went hungry with Rourn and Findulwyn, but I never felt so sickened like I did with Marris.

I abruptly stood, and threw him off guard for a quick moment. But he sat up as quickly as I had stood and continued his stare with a smirk on his lips that was not in the least attractive.

"Would you care for a walk in the practice fields, my lord? I find this room growing uncomfortably warm."

I was in fact freezing my appendages off, but I did not want him to offer me anything. I looked at him expectantly, hoping he would decline, whereupon I could rush straight back to my room. Instead, he nodded and stood next to me. It was then that I realized his height: he was at least 18 handbreadths high a little unusual for the Rohirrim. He towered over me threateningly, but his countenance was the usual self-satisfied smile.

Hesitantly, I took his proffered arm, and walking slowly down the halls and up the dark stairs and into the blazing sunlight of the day.

-

We did not say much as we strolled the grounds. I really did not care where we walked, and it would not have mattered if I had because he led and I began to feel that his decisions brooked no arguments whatsoever. I feared greatly seeing this man angry. He was almost exactly like his sister, that serpent Belindis, except he was quiet, but in his silence was the greatest fear I had ever experienced. If I was ever alone in a room with Gríma Wormtongue, and his tongue was unable to call for help, then I was going to systematically pull his guts out for arranging my marriage to this beastly, beastly man.

We walked back toward the heavy doors, and like a perfect gentleman, opened and then allowed me through first. To my utter surprise, Mortelia stood at the door, poised to take the handle. She was undoutably heading outside to flirt with anything with male organs within a radius of two hundred feet. Her presence and our undoubtable argument that would soon follow would be a pleasing break to Marris's presence. I could have embraced her.

In my sweetest sugary let-me-kill-you voice I exclaimed, "Oh helloo, my dear Lady Mortelia. How are you on this bright sunny day? Going outside? I daresay it will do you a bit of good. Where exactly were you going?" I ended my little spiel with a cute/fake smile.

Her chin fell, and I was a little surprised it did not continue dropping until it touched the ground. I gave her a gormlessly charming smile with my teeth clenched together, allowing her to know that in now way in heaven or hell was this a truce.

Mortelia was not the only one looking at me in disbelief. Marris had his eyebrows raised way above his normal level of smug surprise.

"Do close your mouth, dear, unless you are trying to formulate a reply," I said, lifting a hand and gracefully pointing at her mouth.

She closed it abruptly, her eyes remaining incredibly wide, and at the same time Marris shook himself back into his operational mode. With impressive speed, Mortelia replaced the surprised and alarm look with a cruel smile that had failed to intimidate me for a long time. The words dripped from her mouth like a bitter molasses, sticky, frothy, but venomous.

"Oh my dear Ardeas," she said, emphasizing the word lady, or the lack thereof, "I am just on a pleasant walk out on the grounds. My my, it is a beautiful day, isn't it? And you simply must tell me who your friend is?"

She knew very well who my companion was. Rumor had it she had played the nocturnal tango with him at least thrice, and according to the gossipers in the kitchen, once in a broom closet utilizing a bucket, a broomstick, and a large pot of honey in a way that I really did not care to know, and another time on top of the stable roof. The kitchen staff told me that she had been so completely hammered from the wine that they had been drinking that she was passionately kissing the decorative wooden horse's head at the crown of the roof for nearly three minutes before she realized it was not him, mostly because the head was completely immobile and not even allowing her to put her tongue inside his mouth. Well, its mouth, I should say. The thought made me wonder exactly what she was thinking when she was licking the wooden lips and presumably trying to nip at the lower lip. Maybe something like Stars, he's got hard muscle in his lips!.

"Oh my dear, this is Lord Marris," I pointed at him an he bowed respectfully as she curtsied and flushed a light shade of pink when he looked her in the eye. We are going to be betrothed, as I am sure you know."

It was rather odd that the first person I told about this was Mortelia, my most hated adversary in Meduseld.

Well, as a matter of fact, Mortelia, once Queen of Gossip, had lost her touch and the look on her face when I said that little tidbit was priceless.

She looked between us completely surprised. And as if to strengthen what I said, Marris nodded in agreement. She recovered very hastily, the cruel smile once again on her lips.

"Oh isn't that so thoroughly wonderful. Everyone will be so pleased."

"Oh I know, I am so very happy. But you must keep it a secret. I believe Father wants to announce it personally, most likely tonight at dinner. Promise you won't say?"

"You know I would love to, but for your sake, because we're such good friends, I promise I won't."

Lying bitch. I smiled at her and hope I communicated through my smile that she could be eaten by an orc and I would not give a damn. I am rather good with smiles in cases like this.

She patted my cheek with a sappy smile, though it was more of a soft slap. I smiled as fakely back in return as I could.

"My dear, it is getting late and I must begin my walk or I should be walking through dinner!" she gave a fake giggle, "Ardeas, we have so much to talk about! I shall see you at dinner, I hope?"

"Oh absolutely, my dear."

And with a melodramatic flourish that would have sent me into aching laughter if Marris hadn't been there, she was down the steps and onto the practice field, zeroing in on the closest male, which sadly happened to be poor Brannen, whom I had only occasionally greeted since he had taken me to Edoras four years ago.

It was with great shock that I noted that Marris had seized me roughly by the wrist and was pulling me through the door, which he closed as soon as we were inside. He pushed me roughly up against the wall, using his body to keep me in place, and with both of my wrists in his grasp, I was completely immobile.

"What do you think you are doing?" I cried angrily, desperately, hopefully trying to struggle away. My worst fears were rearing their ugly heads. His face was inches away from mine and he was seething and angry. For a moment I thought he was going to strike me.

"Exactly what was that, Lady Ardeas?" he said, saliva from his words hitting my cheek, and I was unable to wipe it away with my hands.

"I was speaking to a friend. Why? What does it matter?" So I lied. He was not being very considerate or gentle either, so I think I had an excuse.

"That was a complete lie. You hate Lady Mortelia." His nose was a scant inch from mine, but I pray to whoever controls things that I never see anyone else's eyes as angry as his were. Blazing black eyes that were cold and desolate, his handsome face distorted in absolute fury. I had never seen anyone this angry in my life.

"I have an intense dislike for her person. I do not hate her."

He pulled me forward and then slammed me against the wall. "Don't lie to me! You are going to be my wife, and I will not allow my wife to be a liar! I will not allow my wife to try to deceive me!"

"Stop it! Please, I wasn't trying to trick you!" I cried. If I had felt frightened when he sat next to me, fear is too mild a word for what I felt now. Blood coursed through my veins at unimaginable speeds, tears were forming in my eyes as my head swam. I began to see spots and my vision was getting indistinct. But his eyes remained unchanged, cold and hating.

"Do not ever lie to me!" Another slam against the wall. I could see black spots flying across the ceiling.

"I won't; I won't!" I screamed, trying to gain control of my senses. My tears began to hang onto my chin, waiting for more water to make them too heavy and then drip down onto my blue dress that I knew I would never wear again.

"What will you not do, love? Tell me what you will not do!" Another push against the stone wall, and I knew that I was going to throw-up.

"I won't lie to you! I won't deceive you! Please! Stop it!"

Suddenly, he dropped me and took off down the hall, and I slid down the wall and threw up everything onto the floor in front of me, tears trailing down and landing in my vomit. I wanted nothing more than to be in someone's arms who would hold me and tell me that everything would be all right in the end. I wanted to feel warm and loved, and not huddle on cold stone floor with cold stone behind me and unfeeling wood above me, vomit before me, and its stench consuming all of my senses.

I coughed several times, getting the last of everything out. There was an acute empty feeling traveling throughout my entire body, and I felt like there would be only a void, should someone open my body.

I pulled myself up and crawled back to my room. No one saw me. No one was there to hold me when I returned to my room. No one was there was embrace me and tell me that they loved me and that they were going to fight to the last breath so that I would not have to wed Marris. No one was there at all.

I took a cloth and washed away all the tear tracks, chewed on some mint leaves for my breath, and changed everything that I was wearing, including my undergarments. When I went down to the library where Krane and Éowyn were talking and laughing together and joined their conversation, they suspected nothing.

There are a lot of things in life you musn't believe.

Author's Note:

Please note that I am using the measurement handbreadth as about 4 inches/10.16cm, so Marris is about 6 foot 2 inches, or for the rest of the world who intelligently uses the metric system, almost 188 centimeters tall.

Do recall that in the Middle Ages, it was a little unusual for men and women to reach 6 feet tall. Charlemagne, 6 feet, towered over the rest of his court.

Anyway, hoped you enjoyed reading the chapter.

And as always, please review, or I will send a Mary-Sue plot bunny to your home, and you will be forced to write it! BWUHAHAHAHA!

Riiiight.