The Ties That Bind

Chapter Eleven

Butterflies fluttered about in Eirlys' belly as Madris steered her to the bench at her vanity. "This is silly, Madris. He knows what to expect. He's a man and has probably done this a thousand times before."

"Eirlys!"

"What?" Eirlys met her horrified gaze in the large oval mirror above the vanity table. "Have I said something I shouldn't?"

"Well... not exactly, I suppose. But what do you know of what he expects?"

"Because Tauriel and I did speak. And quite often."

"And that's what His Majesty gets for allowing the two of you to become friends."

"That is neither fair nor kind, Madris." Eirlys shook her head. "I never thought you to be anything of a snob, you know. Tauriel was like a sister to me and I miss her so terribly now."

"Well, ordinarily I'm not, but... well... you are a young maiden and should have been innocent of such things until you were married."

"And now I am. And I know full well what Thorin of Erebor will expect this night and all I can hope is that I do not disappoint him. I'll imagine he's been with a fair number of women before me."

Although her cheeks grew ruddy, Madris merely asked, "What makes you think so?"

Eirlys stared at her in the glass. "Have you not seen what he looks like, Madris? Tauriel thought Kíli handsome, but Thorin makes him look like a mountain troll."

"My lady!"

"Tell me I'm wrong."

"Well... no, I don't suppose I can. But, again..." Madris sighed sharply, her cheeks growing redder still. "What did Tauriel tell you? Just so I know what I should tell you."

The butterflies worsened and her cheeks grew slightly warm, but Eirlys still managed a smile. "You needn't tell me anything, Madris. I'll be fine and your face might melt completely off otherwise."

"Are you certain?"

Eirlys let her gaze drop to her own reflection. Her cheeks were only slightly pink, despite the growing heat in them. "Well.... I suppose..."

"What is it?"

"What if I do disappoint him? What if I disappoint him so greatly, he seeks his comfort elsewhere?"

"You know him better than I do," Madris replied carefully, sinking onto the elaborately carved chest at the foot of Eirlys' bed. "Do you think he would do such a thing?"

"I don't know. I only know him slightly better than you, remember."

"Fair enough. But," the mattress squeaked softly as Madris got to her feet and moved to cup Eirlys' chin, "do not worry and do not compare yourself to any who might have come before you. You will benefit from anything he's taken away from previous experience. And besides, you know not that he will even compare you. Men are funny that way. They tend to forget those in their past when they are caught by the one with whom they are meant to be."

"Meant to be? Madris, my father arranged this marriage and it's mostly one of convenience."

"Perhaps," Madris straightened up as a gentle knock sounded, "but I saw how he looked at you, both during the ceremony and after. I'm not entirely sure it will remain a marriage of convenience. For either of you. At least, not for very long, anyhow."

"Eirlys?" Thorin called softly, knocking once more.

Eirlys swallowed hard, her hands falling into her lap, into the pale ivory silk of the nightgown that had been left laid out on her bed by one of the servants. The fabric was cool and smooth, but wrinkled easily, so she smoothed out the newest creases and said, "You should probably let him in."