Challenge Twenty-Five

#TeaserThursday - A teaser excerpt from a draft chapter.

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A/N:  Note - sensitive material in the draft below.  Those who read my 'In Her Hands' companion piece to 'To Live Again' know that Thranduil's character arc has an complex back story.  The main theme being that suffered a form of abuse from his first wife.  I felt it important to write this to highlight that even strong, powerful men can be exploited.  We all can.  It's not just about women.  Emotional Abuse happens daily to both sexes.  It has severe and long-lasting repercussions to the victim.  So, this little draft is just snapshot, and thankfully we all know Thranduil gets a happy ending.   If anything like this affects you, I would encourage you to speak to someone close to you.  It's okay to talk.

Love CJ xo

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Excerpt from draft Chapter for;
'In Her Hands'
By:  CJ Callahan

The shattered crystal lay in shards close to my feet. The water from inside the once decadent jug splattered the whole length of the wall and half of my face and hair.

I tried not to tremble.

Kneeling down I let my shaking hands pick up the broken shards. There were tears in my eyes but I was far too proud. I blinked them back and swallowed the pain, though my chest convulsed with the effort.

I heard footsteps from the wide open door to my chambers. In a daze I ploughed across the room and closed it as carefully as I could, before turning back to the disaster before me.

She was angry with me...furious even.

Bregeth had wanted to try again, tonight, before the feast. We had not conceived our desired elfling yet, or at least she was taking no chances. But...I couldn't do it.

Whether it was exhaustion from the border scourges I'd just returned from, only hours earlier, or whether my heart was growing too heavy to endure these loveless trysts, I just couldn't preform. I tried, truly I did, but it wasn't enough for her, or maybe she thought I was lying.

It hurt to move my jaw. I rubbed the swollen side of my mouth where her fist had caught my chin. It was a superficial thing, the pain would ease in an hour or so. But it was the damage to my ego that such a blow brought that caused me a deeper pain.

The door handle rattled and creaked open.

"Thranduil...it's me," Aradan's tentative whisper caught me off guard.  "I heard a commotion, you don't have to tell me, I just came to see if you were okay?"

A bubble of hysterical laughter gets caught in my throat, as I lean down to pick up more shards of broken glass.  He probably saw Bregeth blow out of my chambers with all the fury of a winter storm, but was kind enough to give me a few moments of composure.  After all it wasn't unusual for she and I have to such scathing arguments. 

"I am..." my voice chokes...I'm not fine.   "It is okay Aradan, I will be along in a minute, tell the King to start without me."

"Yes..." Aradan seethes as he marches into the room and points to my cowering form by the destruction.  "So you can hide another one of her disgraceful temper tantrums? This has to stop...what are you, Mellon nin, a man or a mouse? She is making a fool out of you...out of us!"

"Aradan," I breathe in, ignoring the sharp pain in my face as I stand to level him with a commanding glare.  "Be about your business, and inform my Adar I will be running late to the feast."

"Holy Elbereth...What in Mandos happened to you?" Aradan balks and points to my appearance.

I glance down, trying to hide the shame it causes me to see my ripped tunic and the scratch marks on my chest.  She is right...there must be something wrong with me? What ellon could turn away from laying with his wife? A beautiful wife...a perfect princess.

"Did she do this?" Aradan's lips turn into a thin white line.  His expression livid as he catalogues the carnage. "Thranduil...this is treason."

"No...it's not." I raise my hand, frowning in an attempt to communicate my displeasure at his raised voice. "It was an accident," I say, as a I run a shaky hand through my hair. "Bregeth is highly strung, I said the wrong thing...she overreacted...but that is my fault."

"You say a right many wrong things to me, but I don't punch you in the face for it." Aradan answers smoothly, though his jaw is set in a tight clench.

"Ellith, they are..." I trail off, registering Aradan is not buying it. 

"No, they're not." He points at the mess. "Thranduil, Mellon, you are not a youth, you know better." His shoulders sag as he lets out a dubious sigh.  "I cannot help you if you don't speak."

I want too. 

I would like to tell him everything.  I want to scream, thrash a few chairs against a wall, and turn my Adar's dinner party into a spectacle.  For he did this...he forced this damn marriage...because we need an heir.  And I can't give him that.  I can't give her that. 

Security, sensibility, sacrifice - that's all they ever say - Adar and my wife.  But since when did those things come at a cost to me?  Why did it feel wrong? Did I not just shed blood and sweat, and the lives of my elven kinsmen, for security, sensibility, and sacrifice?  Was that not enough?

Clearly it wasn't. It was never enough. I was letting someone down.  If I couldn't keep a lid on my wife's temper, if I couldn't dull the rumours of her disdain for the people, and her life here; then I was failing my father.  If I didn't bend to Bregeth's demands, let her take advantage when she wanted, and compensate her people for her political gains here; then this happened. 

I was berated into this corner and I couldn't escape.  All because of a crown.  All because of something greater than me.  Just once I wished to be selfish.  For once I wanted to matter to someone, not because of what I could do or provide, but because they liked me.  Did no one like me?  Was this punishment?