Còir an Fhear?chèile – The Right of the Husband

  Rohan, July 25, 67 V.A. – A Quarrel That Changes Everything

  The evening sun slanted through the tall windows of Meduseld as I read the report from the Crown Council. I wore only a thin shift; Théodred had delivered a letter just as I was preparing for bed. My fingers clawed at the parchment as I read the words for the third time: "...the Haradrim have raided another Gondorian caravan. Queen Siena has sent troops south—but Rohan’s borders remain unguarded. Should the Haradrim advance northwest, Rohan will be their next target."

  I set the letter down. "This is a trap."

  Théodred, standing by the window, turned to me. "What do you mean?"

  "Gondor is fighting the Haradrim on their own territory, near our borders. If we intervene, they’ll have reason to attack us too!" He stepped closer. "Or they need our help and won’t admit it."

  "Never!" I hissed. "Gondor would never admit weakness! They could have renewed the alliance with us long ago, but they didn’t! My cousin doesn’t want friendship—she wants to expand her own lands!"

  Théodred’s eyes narrowed. "You speak as if you’re personally feuding with her."

  "I am!" I shouted. "She wants my throne! She wants Arnor to become a vassal again, and you don’t even see it!" His face darkened. "I see that you’re exaggerating. Rohan is strong. We have allies. They don’t have the resources to fight on two fronts."

  "We have no one!" I screamed. "If the Haradrim come, we’ll stand alone against them and Gondor!"

  Théodred’s hand shot out and seized my wrist. "You’re overreacting!" he growled. "You’re a queen, but you’re acting like a stubborn child!" I wrenched free and stepped back, breath quickening. "I’m not stubborn! I’m angry—because you won’t listen!" "Because you won’t think!" he thundered. "You want war, but you don’t even know how to wage one!" "I don’t want war!" I shrieked. "I want Arnor to remain independent!" He laughed bitterly. "You want an independent Arnor? Then by Eru, do your duty and bear an heir!"

  "What do you mean by that?" My voice was sharp, but my heart pounded faster. Théodred stepped closer until he loomed over me. His breath reeked of wine. "You know exactly what I mean. A child. An heir. You swore to obey me. You swore to secure Arnor and Rohan." "I have a child!" I spat. "Alasdair is only four months old!" "And if he dies?" His voice cut through mine. "If illness takes him? If an accident happens? Rohan needs more than one heir! Arnor needs security! And you? You avoid me. You shirk your duty!" "I’m not shirking—"

  "Yes, you are!" He slammed his fist on the table, making the inkpots rattle. "You haven’t shared my bed in months! You deny me what is mine by right!" I recoiled until my back hit the table’s edge. "I deny you nothing! I let you into my bed right after Alasdair’s birth!" "And what happened then? You lay there like a corpse and have kept me from your bed ever since!" He grabbed my arms and yanked me toward him. "You swore obedience, Celebrian! Before Eru and the world!" "Let go of me!" I struggled, but his grip didn’t loosen. "No." His breath was fast, his eyes cold. "You will do as you promised!"

  Before I could react, he seized me and pinned me against the wall. "Be still!" he hissed in my ear. I struggled, but he was stronger. "Théodred, let go!" "No." His voice was icy. "You’ve forgotten what you swore to me!" "Théodred, stop!" I tried to break free, but he held me fast, his weight crushing me like a boulder. "You’ve denied me my right long enough!" His voice was rough. "Now you’ll give me what you owe me."

  I tried to break free, but he held me tight, one hand around my throat, the other tearing the thin shift from my body. "You will bear me more sons, Celebrian. Whether you like it or not!" "Please..." My voice broke. "Not like this—" With one motion, he shoved me onto the bed, face-up. I tried to rise, but he was on me instantly, pressing me down. "Stay down." His breath was ragged as he unfastened his trousers. I instinctively closed my eyes, but he seized my chin and forced me to look at him. "Look at me." His voice was a whisper, more threatening than any shout. "This is what happens when you deny me my right."

  His hands were everywhere. His fingers probed where I didn’t want to be touched. The act between man and wife was meant only for begetting children! I tried to pull away, but he held me fast. "Now you’ll learn," he whispered as his fingers moved. "I’ve been far too lenient with you!"

  "No—!" I twisted, but he didn’t stop. Then I felt his manhood between my legs. He entered me without warning, without care. A burning pain shot through me, and I cried out, but he smothered the sound with his hand over my mouth. "Quiet!" Eventually, he arched and collapsed over me, panting. When he recovered, he released me. "This is your duty. Now you know what happens when you deny me my right. You decide how ugly you make this for both of us." His voice was indifferent, as if he’d done nothing wrong.

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  I said nothing. I couldn’t. He left the room, and the door slammed shut. I bled. I trembled. I could barely breathe. My skin burned where his fingers had been. My body felt like it no longer belonged to me. And the worst? He was right. I belonged to him. By law. By vow. By this night.

  Morning

  The first gray light of dawn crept through the heavy curtains as the door creaked softly. I lay motionless on the bed, the blanket pulled to my chin as if it could make me invisible. Every breath burned; every muscle ached. The sheets beneath me were stained—a silent witness to the night. Footsteps. Slow. Deliberate. The clink of metal, a bucket set down. Then the splash of water.

  "Your Majesty." The voice was old, rough, familiar. Mairwen. My first lady-in-waiting, who had served my father in Meduseld. She didn’t look at me. She already knew everything. I didn’t move. "I had hot water brought." She spoke clearly in the tongue of the Rohirrim. She pulled the blanket from me without a word. I shivered as the cool air hit my skin, and I tried to cover myself. "You are whole. You are alive." Her voice was quiet, without pity. "And you will endure it again."

  I crawled cautiously from the bed and followed her, trembling, into the adjoining room where the large wooden tub stood. It was meant for laundry, but I had insisted on a private bathing space when I arrived in Rohan—much to the dismay of the servants. I sat in the warm water, which rose to my waist. Mairwen poured more warm water over me but didn’t touch me. I closed my eyes as the water ran down my thighs. It burned. It cleansed. It washed away the filth. She seemed to know I couldn’t bear to be touched right now. So I said nothing and washed my face and upper body.

  After bathing, she wrapped me in a linen cloth. "I’ll make you cooling compresses this evening for the bruises." I nodded and looked at her gratefully. She handed me a shift, laced my bodice, and helped me into a clean dress. Finally, she braided my hair and tucked it under my coif with practiced ease. After a critical glance, she nodded, satisfied with her work. "Your court awaits you."

  Only now did I snap out of my trance. "I can’t!" She shook her head and made a disapproving noise. "You’re no longer a child to be shielded from reality, Your Majesty. You’re a married woman. You’ve borne a child. You will heal. You will bleed again. That is the lot of women, and the right of men." In that moment, I was certain she had said this to many women before.

  The doors of the dining hall creaked as I entered. The courtiers fell silent for a moment, then bowed. "Your Majesty." I nodded and sat. My lower belly burned, but I didn’t let it show. A servant handed me a tray of bread. I took it and spread smoked ham and cheese on a slice. "Any news from the Eorlingas?" I asked, keeping my voice steady. "Lord Théodred has been gone since sunrise, Your Majesty," a counselor replied. "He’s expected back in three days. They’re securing some border areas." I nodded. Three days. Three days alone to process what had happened. As I took a bite of bread, the smell of ham turned my stomach.

  Later, as I walked the halls, I flinched at every sound. A servant passing too quickly made me freeze. A door slamming sent a shiver down my spine. The two ladies-in-waiting were puzzled by my behavior but said nothing. They were new to the court and wanted to do everything right. Their Gàidhlig was limited to simple conversations; my Rohirric wasn’t much better. In the library, I paused and touched some of my father’s books. In one, he had written notes in the margins. His handwriting comforted me. Finally, I chose a book of Rohan’s sagas and handed it to the younger of the two women to read aloud. I spent the rest of the morning in the library, pretending to listen to the stories. But my mind was only half there, thinking about what to do next.

  That evening, I sat in my chamber, staring at the blank letter I wanted to write to my mother. The words wouldn’t come. What could I write? It was over; she couldn’t change it. But for the first time in a year, I longed to see her. She had traveled to Gondor for my cousin’s coronation; perhaps she would stop in Edoras on her return. Our correspondence had dwindled since Alasdair’s birth. I was still angry at her words, but I had questions for her.

  The next two days passed without incident. I visited my son, marveling at how much he’d grown in four months, but I didn’t hold him despite the nurse’s kind offer. I knew little about infants and didn’t want to upset the child. It was better for him to grow up apart from me for the first few years. That way, he could thrive, and I... could become pregnant again? The thought of more nights with my husband filled me with dread. But both he and Mairwen were right: I would have to endure it again.

  Two Days Later

  I had retired early. Théodred would return tonight. The door opened without a knock. I sat on the edge of the bed, hands clenched in my lap, knowing what was coming. Théodred’s silhouette filled the doorway, the torchlight casting long shadows on the wall. "You’re back," I said quietly, not looking at him. He didn’t answer. Instead, he closed the door with a soft click. "The Eorlingas are restless. The situation with the Haradrim could escalate at any moment." He unbuckled his belt, letting it clatter to the floor. "But I’m here now." He sat beside me on the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight, and I instinctively shifted away. His hand settled on my knee. I froze, barely resisting the urge to push it away. His thumb stroked my leg slowly, as if soothing a skittish colt. "You know why I’m here." I nodded.

  He pulled the dress over my head without haste, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. My skin prickled uncomfortably under his touch. I pressed my lips together to keep from making a sound. "You’ve been well cared for." His voice was matter-of-fact, almost indifferent, as he examined the bruises on my shoulders. I said nothing. He pushed me gently but firmly onto the bed and leaned over me. His breath was hot on my neck. I tensed. His hands were soon everywhere. When his hand slid between my legs, I instinctively tried to turn away. "Stay still," he hissed, forcing my legs apart and settling between them. The first pain made me gasp; I was still sore from last time. "There we go," he panted. I bit my lip until I tasted blood and stared at the ceiling as if I weren’t there. When he was done, he pulled away and stood as if nothing had happened. I trembled, certain I was bleeding again.

  He dressed and handed me my shift. "If Eru wills it, one day we’ll have enough children, and I won’t trouble you with this anymore." I nodded and slipped into my dress. He left the room, and I exhaled. It was over. For today.