The White Lady of Rohan watched the swirling gray clouds from her vantage in the tall spires of the White City. In the vast courtyard below a contingent of guards moved through their paces: swords, spears, hand to hand, bow practice, and back to swords. Fluid movements of men too long at war. Movements she herself was a master of.
But the war was over now. Sauron was defeated. And yet they still trained to face the threat from the East. Eowyn couldn't help but wonder if there would ever be a time when men lived in peace.
The shieldmaiden pulled the shawl around her shoulders as she watched the first of the white flakes fall from the heavy clouds above. A lazy smile crossed her lips as she watched the snowfall. Such a lovely little dance. A hundred women in billowy, colorless dresses spinning and twisting in the dim sky as they lived their short crystal lives. The memories of happy days in front of a warm fire with her brother filled her mind as she watched. How they would curl up under a warm fur and beg Theodred to tell them a tale as their uncle listened from his seat on the throne, a smile on his oft troubled face.
Slowly the smile began to fade from her lips as the happy memories were eroded by the images of Grima sending her out into the dark snowy nights, with not even a shawl for warmth. She shook her head and cursed in the language of the Rohirrim, a vulgar and unladylike thing. Grima was dead and yet he still haunted her like a too dark shadow, destroying all the joy in her life; and now there was another to take his place. She pursed her lips together in a thin line wondering if Lothiriel had been sent specifically to fill the void of tormenter.
Holding out a pale arm she let out a sad sigh as the snowflakes fell on her hand; she watched as they melted from the warmth of her skin. It almost amused her. So often she had been accused of an ice-cold touch.
There was a knock on the door and she turned away from the window. "Come in," she called in a strong voice, readjusting her shawl around her shoulders to look more ladylike. Even though she was the Lady of Shield-arm who had defeated the Lord of the Nazgul, the Gondorian men still wanted her to be a prim and proper woman. It bothered her at times, but she would do what she could to keep up the illusion.
The door opened and she smiled, letting out a brief sound of relief. "Good evening, Faramir," she greeted, leaning back against the stone sill of the window. Her husband gave her a smile as he entered and shut the door, wrapping his cloak around him.
"And to you, Eowyn," he replied with an exaggerated shiver that made the shieldmaiden smile a bit brighter. "I cannot fathom how you endure such cold quarters."
"Winter is supposed to be cold, with only your blankets, furs, and the occasional fire for comfort," she answered, gesturing for him to take a seat at the table in the middle of the room while she pushed away from the window to sit across from him. "I can't imagine how you lasted so long in the wild when a little chill bothers you so," she teased.
"This is no 'little chill' as you would call it," he replied with mock offence. "I simply do not have the cold blood of a woman to tolerate such things. Even in the wild men have sense enough to build a fire." Eowyn laughed. "But enough of that. Tell me, are you well with these quarters?"
"I have a good view of the men sparring," she said with a shrug of her shoulders as she gave an appraising glance around. It was sparse stone room with a window, barren fireplace, door and little furniture other then the bed, table, chairs, and dressing stand.
It was not as grand as her rooms in Ithilien, but it was amazing compared to the chambers of her childhood that had hardly been large enough for a bed. "They are fine," she finally answered as her eyes came back to him. "I do not see why you are worrying. Have I ever complained about King Elessar's courtesy to us?"
"Of course not," Faramir said with a shake of his head, "you never would. But it is hard for me not to worry, Eowyn." Instinctively she pursed her lips again and assumed a mask of indifference. It was never good when Faramir said her name in such a pointed fashion. "You have not been yourself lately. Not since your last visit to Rohan and I am worried. As is your brother."
Eowyn's eyes narrowed almost unnoticeably. She hated when Faramir brought Eomer into their arguments; all of a sudden she lost the ability to deny his accusations. The Gondorian knew her too well. "I wish you would not do that," she said, shutting her eyes and taking in a deep breath. Her stomach knotted as she remembered the last visit to her beloved homeland. "I am fine, Faramir."
"You are lying, Eowyn, and you are bad at it."
"Perhaps," she said dismissively, opening her eyes. "When will we be returning to Ithilien?"
"Does Gondor offend you so?" Faramir asked as he raised an eyebrow.
"Of course not," she frowned, "but it has been long since we dwelled in the Tower of the Moon and there is still much that needs to be rebuilt."
"Yes, you are right," he nodded, unable to deny the truth in her statement. "I had planned to leave in a fortnight so that we could attend the celebration commemorating Sauron's defeat. But, if you think it would be better that we leave sooner..."
"I had forgotten about the celebration," Eowyn said with a shake of her head. "Since my brother will not be able to attend I told him I would represent the Riddermark. If that is well with you, of course," she said, wincing and wishing she had spoken to him about such a thing earlier. But her mind had been on other things.
She sighed and let her face fall in her hands, trying to conceal the mental and emotional exhaustion from him. "I apologize. You are right. I am not myself lately," she mumbled. "I have felt so weak these past days and I am not used to such a feeling."
Faramir moved from the chair, kneeling before her and pulling her hands away, a concerned look on his face. "Is this because of Aelana's departure?" he asked.
"I suppose it is," she said, shutting her eyes and gritting her teeth. It was hard to keep herself from shoving her husband away and screaming at him like some petty young girl. He had encouraged her relationship with the low-class Aelana, encouraged her to forsake the laws of her native land and indulge in adultery and forbidden flesh, and at moments she hated him for it.
But it was not his fault. He had meant well, not fully understanding the gravity of her indiscretion. Such things were done and simply not spoken of in Gondor. And she could not be upset with him now, for he knew not what had occurred. In his eyes the Aelana had merely grown tired of too dark Ithilien and traveled to Arnor, under the pretence of visiting family.
Eowyn bit the inside of her lip, mastering her anger and casting it in the correct direction. It was her own weakness that had nearly brought about her downfall and still threatened to do so. The merest slip of Lothiriel's tongue and Eomer would be forced to exile her from the Riddermark, perhaps even deny their kinship. She would never be allowed to see the great fields or the magnificent horses again – under penalty of death. She would have shamed her brother and he would never again look upon her with love of any kind. She would not survive such a thing.
"Eowyn?" Faramir said, running a hand over her cheek as she opened her eyes and let out a curse, glad it was only the two of them in the room. She was crying.
Quickly she brushed the tears away with the sleeve of her dress and stood up, displacing the Prince of Ithilien as she walked back to the window. "I am fine, Faramir," she said, taking in a shaky breath as she steadied herself against the window ledge and tried to control the tears. "Please, do not waste your worry on me."
"It is hardly a waste," he replied as he moved toward her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I am sorry. I did not realize she meant so much to you," he said. "I thought her a diversion."
"She was," the shieldmaiden whispered, unable to turn and face her husband as she placed a hand atop his. "She meant very little to me, but her leaving has caused me... problems. And please do not ask, I am not ready to talk about this. I just want to go back to Ithilien and eradicate the remains of shadow that lies there."
"You should not run, Eowyn, the shadows will always follow," Faramir said, "but if that is your wish... after the celebration, where you will represent Rohan in your brother's stead, we will return to Ithilien."
"I am not strong enough to fight my demons right now, Faramir. The only thing I can do is regroup, retreat, hope I survive the night, and wait for the dawn to show me the battlefield anew," the shieldmaiden said with a heavy sigh. "Thank you for listening," she said in a hushed voice, letting her hand drop away from her husband's, "even though I have told you so little."
"You are my wife and my friend," he responded. "I wish you would trust me more, yet I know that is difficult for you to do. But," he said, pulling her into an embrace from behind, "if you need a friend to talk to, know that I am here."
"I know," she said with a shaky smile, looking over her shoulder into Faramir's gentle eyes. "I know. You are a good man, but perhaps you should spend this time with your lover whilst we are here in Gondor. I know you get to spend little time with her and we will have much time to speak in Ithilien."
"I do not know that I should leave you when you are feeling so ill at ease," he responded.
"I will be fine, or at least I will survive until I see you again. I need some time with my thoughts," she said, forcing a bright smile to her face as she turned and broke his embrace. "Go, enjoy the fleeting time you have with your lover. See if she can bring a smile to that grim face of yours. I can near assure you that her dismal quarters will be warmer than mine."
"She has the sense to stoke a fire," he smirked, pulling away.
"I see. You appreciate her company because she is more manly than I," Eowyn grinned as her husband laughed. "Why are you still here, Faramir? I said to go."
He sighed and shook his head, knowing it was impossible to argue with her. "As my Lady of the Rohirrim wishes," he said as he stepped away. "But, if you should need anything, do not hesitate to send for me."
"Enjoy yourself," the shieldmaiden said, waving a hand at the door and waiting for Faramir to shut it firmly behind himself before slumping against the windowsill. It was so hard not to tell the son of Denethor everything. He was kind and intelligent in a world with too few men of that caliber. But she could not bring herself to tell him what had occurred in her fair homeland. That Aelana had left her because of her incestuous lusts and now Lothiriel knew her secrets.
And then there was the matter of Arwen.
She turned and looked out the window. The snow was coming down in flakes as big as her thumb now. Below the guards had forsaken the rest of their training and were moving indoors. She rubbed a hand over the fabric of her loose sleeve. It was considerably warmer now that it was snowing, but she could still feel the winter chill in her heart as she lost herself in thought.
The elven Queen knew her dark secret now, at least part of it.
Arwen had come upon her pleasuring Lothiriel and the ensuing discord. She had comforted with soft words and embraces until the Rohirrim woman had relaxed in her arms. Then the dark haired beauty had told her that she too enjoyed the comforts of the female flesh. A lie, perhaps, but a kind gesture to a stricken friend nonetheless.
But then the elf said too much and had pitied her, saying she could find love in her ethereal heart. That she would show the shieldmaiden the ways love, words and touches; even allowed the shattered blond to lay in the safety of her bed.
Eowyn sucked in a breath of cold air. Even if what the elven woman had said was true, no one could love her. She would not allow it. There was a curse upon her love. Her parents had left her, her cousin had died, and now dead Theoden had grown distant from her. Only Eomer survived, and she denied the depths of her love for him.
Arwen had only pitied her during those moments in the Riddermark, she was sure of that. She let out a deep sigh, flexing her frozen fingers. It would be good to be back in Ithilien where she was the Lady and none dared hurt her.
A rapping took her from her thoughts and she looked toward the door. "Enter," she called, wondering who it was. Faramir should have been with his lover by now. She hoped nothing was wrong.
A meek servant girl peeked in the room, shivering at the cold as she entered, folding her arms around herself. Eowyn gave a commiserating smile as she realized how chilly the room truly was. Perhaps she would make one of those fires her husband seemed so fond of, or at least cover the window.
"M'lady of Ithilien," the girl said with a bob of her head, stumbling over the words, as she tried to pull her sleeves farther down her arms. "Her ladyship, Queen Arwen, wishes your company in her chambers, if you are able."
"What timing," Eowyn mumbled as her stomach began to churn. She knew what the elven woman was going to say. That it had been a mistake in the Riddermark. That she had only wished to comfort a friend.
The flaxen-haired woman shut her eyes and took in a deep breath as she moved from the window. Better to get it over with she supposed. "Of course. I am always at the Queen's call," she said to the nervous looking servant girl. "Will you take me to her?"
"Yes, m'lady," she bowed, "when you are ready."
"I am ready now," the Rohirrim smiled, trying to soothe the poor girl's nerves. She gave her green and gold dress a quick look, straightening the bodice as she hung her shawl over a chair. The gown was presentable enough for an audience with the Queen of the Reunited Kingdoms. It was one of the finest she owned. But somehow, suddenly, it just did not seem good enough. "Take me to the Queen."
"Yes, m'lady," the girl said with a bob of her head as she turned on her heels and dodged out of the room. Eowyn followed after a moment, glad the servant had enough wits about her to wait in the hall. "Please, this way, m'lady," she said meekly, this time waiting until she was sure the shieldmaiden was coming before she turned.
As they walked Eowyn instinctively straightened her back and held up her chin, forcing herself to act like the Lady she was, no matter how her insides were turning and twisting. She focused on her breathing as she watched the servant navigate the labyrinth of halls. Her hands clenched at her sides. There had to be a way that she could keep Arwen as a friend. But she did not know how. She could not imagine the Queen would ever wish to see her again after all she now knew.
"My Lady of Ithilien."
Eowyn smiled and nodded her head as she passed, explaining that she was on her way to visit the Queen and could not stop to chat. The Lady that had spoken laughed and nodded back. Though there was a look in the woman's eye at the mention of the elven woman that made the shieldmaiden wince. There was still a great amount of residual distrust for Elessar's chosen Queen. Why that was Eowyn had yet to fathom. Yes, she was an elf, but Arwen remained the gentlest and kindest woman Eowyn had ever met, not to mention a true friend. It hurt that Lothiriel had probably destroyed all that.
"We're here, m'lady," the servant mumbled into her chest as she knocked on the entrance to the Queen's chambers. There was a muffled call of 'Enter' from within as the girl shyly shoved open the heavy wooden door and waved for Eowyn to go in. "Is there anything I c'n do for you, m'lady?" she asked as the flaxen haired woman began to pass.
"Could you send for someone to start a fire in my quarters?" Eowyn requested and the girl nodded her head, backing away and closing the door.
Sucking in a deep breath the shieldmaiden steeled her resolve and looked around the room. The Queen's chambers were as vast as she had envisioned, nearly as large as the throne room in Edoras. There was a table with several chairs in front of a large, roaring fire and a bed with a canopy. Tapestries hung on every wall, most too fine for any human hand to have crafted. There were also several doorways that lead to adjacent rooms. The Rohirrim woman's brow furrowed. There was one thing missing from the Queen's chambers, and that was the Queen.
"My Queen?" she called, proud that her voice did not quake. She tiled her head to the side and peeked in one of the side rooms that appeared to be a bathing chamber, noting the steam rising from the stone bath, but didn't see the dark-haired elven woman. "I was told you sent for me," she said, moving forward to look in one of the other rooms.
"Ah, Eowyn, you are a touch quicker than I had expected," the melodic voice of Arwen said as she walked out from a room that Eowyn hadn't yet noticed. "I have become too accustomed to the women of Gondor's court. They are very rarely so prompt. Lateness is apparently a fashion." She smiled as she came fully into Eowyn's view. Her dark hair was drawn up in a style that made her appear dignified and regal, but did little to accentuate her natural beauty. Not that the Queen needed to highlight the fact she was highly attractive. The burgundy dress she wore was perfectly cut to her form and everything about her was in perfect order, except pale pink laces of her gown were undone, letting the dress slip slightly from her shoulders.
"My apologies, should I go and return in a bit?" Eowyn asked, unsure how to act. She had not been alone and face to face with the Queen since their return from the Riddermark and her stomach continued to twist in knots.
"No, of course not," Arwen said with a shake of her head as she walked forward. "I should have known you would be punctual. In fact, perhaps you can help me get my hair out of these pins. I am still not entirely sure how my handmaid does it, elves rarely do more than braid their hair."
"Yes, the Rohirrim are much the same," Eowyn said with a breath of relief as she waved for Arwen to take a seat at her dressing table and began to pull the uncomfortable looking pins from the woman's hair. When she had a purpose things were always much easier. "I have never been able to figure how Gondorian woman do this to themselves. It seems like a waste of time."
"A symbol of status I am told," Arwen said conversationally as the shieldmaiden felt the crystalline elven eyes boring into her reflection in the broad mirror before them. Quickly she let the dark hair tumble down and set the pins on the dresser. "The ways of Men are curious."
"Indeed, my Queen," she replied, almost instinctively as she began to pull the ribbons from the twists of hair. She reveled in the silky feel of Arwen's tresses and longed to run her fingers through the dark locks. This was torture.
"Eowyn, you needn't be so stiff around me. I am your friend, am I not?" Arwen said, reaching up and claiming one of the woman's strong hands. She turned and looked into the Rohirrim's beautiful blue eyes, her own eyes flickering as they searched for something.
"Of course," Eowyn said, quickly averting her gaze. Silently she cursed her cowardice. She was a shieldmaiden of the Rohirrim, sister-daughter of the deceased King Theoden and blood-sister to King Eomer. She was the Lady of the Shield-arm, slayer of the Witch King. She was the Lady of Ithilien, a Gondorian noble woman by marriage. Yet, she was also a coward that could not meet eyes with her Queen and proclaimed friend.
Arwen said nothing, but let the hand go and turned back to her mirror, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. "Well, since we have agreed that I am a friend, you may call me Arwen if you wish. There is no need to be so formal, especially in the privacy of my chambers."
"Very well, Arwen," Eowyn said with a nod. She loved the way the Queen's name felt in her mouth, growling in her throat before slipping off the tip of her tongue and into the air. Her eyes shut for a moment and she felt a stab of pain in her heart as she imagined what could never be. "You were surprised at my early arrival," she managed to say, changing the subject and opening her eyes. "Did I disrupt your daily routine?"
"Perhaps," Arwen answered, pulling her loose hair back a moment before letting it fall again. "But as I said, I called for you, Eowyn, and I know you well enough that I should have expected you would arrive quickly."
"Why did you call for me anyway, my Qu... Arwen," she said, quickly correcting herself as the elven woman smiled in the mirror and began brushing her long dark hair.
"We have hardly had a moment to speak since departing Rohan and returning to Gondor. I thought now would give us a chance. I would gladly forsake a bath for the joy of your company, Eowyn," she said as the shieldmaiden remembered the steaming bath she had seen while looking for the Queen.
"I do not wish to disrupt you," Eowyn said, holding up her hands. In the back of her mind she knew she was acting skittish and strange toward the Queen, her friend. But her fear that the elven woman would remember exactly what she had witnessed and heard in the Golden Hall and denounce their friendship was strong. It was strange to be ruled by fear in such a peaceful time, especially for the formerly fearless Lady of the Riddermark.
"We could always speak while I bathe," Arwen suggested as she removed the simple silver and gold ornament that hung about her throat. "I do not know the ways of Men in this matter, but I often spoke with other maidens and my brothers while I washed in bathing pools of Imladris."
"Your brothers saw you while you bathed?" Eowyn gasped, desperately trying not to show her shock as she covered her mouth with a hand. She had tried so hard to be understanding of Arwen's eccentricities. She was one of the Eldar kind after all, her ways were not something for a mere shieldmaiden to disparage. But the thought of a male, not her husband, seeing the elven woman nude was foreign and strange. Of course, that it had been the Queen's own brothers made her stomach churn in a way she couldn't describe.
Arwen chuckled. "I take that to mean such things are not done in the lands of Men," she said with a smile as she turned her head to look at the mildly rattled blonde.
Eowyn moved her hand away from her mouth and composed herself. She was not going to embarrass herself, her husband or her homeland by acting like a fool. "It is somewhat common for a Lady of high standing to have her handmaids present while she bathes," she answered diplomatically. A smile creased her lips. Faramir would have been proud. "If you wish to take your bath, I will gladly speak with you or wait out here until you are done."
"If it does not bother you, my friend, then please accompany me to the bathing chamber," the Queen said, rising from her seat and walking into the side room, disrobing as she walked. Eowyn followed after her slowly, still uncertain. "Ah," Arwen stopped in the doorway, fumbling with a knot at the small of her back. "Eowyn, will you please help me with this? I cannot seem to get it undone."
"O...of course," the Rohirrim woman nodded as Arwen tossed her hair over a shoulder, so it would not get caught in the knotted laces. Her strong hands reached forward and slowly began undoing the stubborn ties. Her fingers awkwardly worked with the cords and she shivered every time her hands would slip and touch the silken skin of the Queen, until finally the knot came free.
"Ah, thank you," Arwen said as Eowyn's numb hands dropped away from the lacing of the gown. She watched with an intensity alien to her as the elven woman undressed, the gown slipping from her smooth shoulder and exposing the soft skin of her body.
Arwen flipped her hair over her shoulder again and it fanned out, a dark contrast to the pale perfection of her figure, as she tossed the dressing gown over a chair. Eowyn let out a silent gasp as she gazed upon the near perfect curves of the Queen. The supple breasts, round and smooth, with little roses at their center. The soft stomach leading down to round hips and silky thighs. And between those thighs Eowyn was certain there was a warm bliss beyond comprehension.
The Queen turned and Eowyn barely managed to avert her eyes as Arwen gave her a brief smile and climbed in the stone bath. "Does the sun shine today, Eowyn?" the elven woman asked, closing her eyes as she sunk down into the warm water. The Rohirrim woman watched as the water enveloped the Queen and felt a churning of desire in her stomach.
"No, my lady," she replied after a moment, clenching her fists and turning away as she sat on the side of the bath. "At least, it was cloudy when I left my quarters and the snow was falling."
"Pity. I have always liked the sun in winter," Arwen said with a sigh, splashing the water and drawing Eowyn's gaze back to her. The fair-haired woman said nothing as the Queen submerged her head under the water. It was a strangely beautiful sight, even through the ripples of the bath. The ivory skin caressed by the ebony locks.
"Why is that?" she asked when the elf finally came up again and leaned against the stones. Her hair was slicked back and clung suggestively to her bare shoulders and neck, like dark webs made of silk, enticing Eowyn to brush them aside.
"Because it is so persistent and kind. It rises everyday to meet the cold world and attempts to warm it, because it loves to see the happy greenery of springtime when the world lives again," Arwen answered as she began to scrub at her arms and legs with a cloth.
"I had never thought of it that way as I have always liked the cloudy days and the snow they bring," Eowyn replied, letting her hand touch the warm water of the bath and marveling at how imperfect her skin seemed compared to Arwen's. "But, now that you say it in such a way, you are quite right."
The Queen let out a contented sound, tossing the cloth away and letting herself relax in the warm water, shutting her eyes. Silence fell between them as Eowyn drew lazy circles in the water. She felt as if she should say something. But what exactly she should say eluded her.
"Have you thought on my offer, Eowyn?"
The Rohirrm woman jumped, surprised to find Arwen had opened her eyes and was now coolly staring at her. "What?" was all the shieldmaiden could manage to say as her hand stilled in the water and her chest tightened in dread.
"You said you would think on the offer I made you in Rohan," the Queen repeated, raising an eyebrow. "But I can see from the look in your eyes that you still do not believe it was an honest offer."
"You mock me," Eowyn murmured, cursing herself and wishing she hadn't spoken. She did not mean to say such a thing, but it was an instinctive response. She had been in the darkness too long with vile liars, few friends, and none that could protect her. A sudden spurt of pain blossomed behind her eyes and she winced.
"I do not mock you, Eowyn, daughter of Eomund," Arwen said with a slight frown adorning her perfect features. "And I do not ask you for an answer, even now. I only asked if you had thought on it." She sighed. "I said I would keep you for a friend no matter your choice. I would enjoy you as a lover, but our friendship is dear to me. I would not jeopardize that."
Eowyn pressed fingers to her temples and shut her eyes tight, willing the pain in her head to dissipate. "No, no," she whispered, "it appears it is I who am jeopardizing our friendship. I should not have accused you of such a thing."
"You must come to understand that not everyone is against you, my friend, least of all me," Arwen said, shifting in the bath and pulling her wet hair over her shoulder. Eowyn said nothing, letting out a deep breath as she opened her eyes again and looked down at the elven woman again. Arwen smiled up at her gently as she spoke again, most softly this time. "Is your brother the only one you know to trust?"
The question was like a dagger to the shieldmaiden's heart as she shut her eyes once more, rubbing at her temples again. "I do not know what you mean by that," she managed to say. The sudden headache was subsiding a bit.
"Please," Arwen said with a splash. "Do not insult my intelligence. Your brother is the only person you speak freely with. Even with Faramir, who I do not deny that you care for deeply, you are guarded. There is a wall between you and all others. It has crumbled once between us, but even then it did not fall completely."
"There are things I do not tell Eomer that you know," Eowyn offered, sidestepping the question.
"Only because I discovered you in a... compromising situation," the Queen said, trying to be polite. "Which, I believe, brings us full circle to my original question. Mind you, this is not a mock, but have you thought on my proposition?"
This time Eowyn managed to keep instinctive reactions to herself while she rolled all possible answers over in her mind. "To be honest," she said finally, opening her eyes as the headache stopped. "I thought you had called me to your rooms to tell me your words had been a mistake. A kindness to comfort a distraught friend." She let her hands fall into her lap. "So, no, I have not thought on your offer. You are right. I did not think it honest."
And still do not, she added silently to herself.
"Oh, dear Eowyn, what can I do to convince you that I am not the next Lotheriel to enter your life?" Arwen said with a sigh as she raised herself up and retrieved the cloth. She leaned over and began to scrub at her calves.
The Rohirrim woman jerked in surprise at her own thoughts being spoken to her, even as she was momentarily entranced by elven woman's cleaning. "I would never think such a thing of you," she half-lied. She truly did not think the elven woman intended her ill, but she was certain that would be the inevitable outcome. "I just, as I said back in the Riddermark, I do not see how you could want me. I am tainted by Lotheriel's touch. And," she averted her eyes, "I do not see how such a relationship could bring anything but pain to either of us."
"There is so much pleasure to be had from such things, my friend. You must know that I would not force anything upon you or harm you," Arwen said, rising from the bath to sit beside Eowyn on the ledge. Her wet hands took hold of the shieldmaiden's face and forced the blonde to look into her eyes. "Still you do not trust me. What can I do to win such a prize?"
"There is no prize," Eowyn said, pursing her lips as she became lost in the beauty of the elven eyes. In that moment wanted nothing more than to stare into those knowing orbs forever. Her mouth felt dry as her mind tripped about its own thoughts and her stomach twisted. It was unfair of the Queen to make her feel this way.
Only twice before had she felt so confused and vulnerable. The day she realized the soft curves of female flesh enticed her more than those of men. And the day Eomer had been wounded in the thigh. She had cleaned and bound the wound, all the while her stomach roiling in what she would later understand to be lust.
Ever since those days she had been lonely, closed off from the one she adored for fear of his duty should he know of her sins. In a sick way, deep inside her, she had even enjoyed when Lotheriel had found out the dark secrets. Despite the fact she despised her brother's wife and all that she did, it was pleasant not to need a facade in front of her.
The Rohirrim woman let out a soft sigh as she relaxed in the comfort of the storm colored eyes, pressing her cheek against the damp hands that held her face. Perhaps submitting to Arwen would not be so terrible. As long as the Queen did not seek to humiliate and degrade her, it was already a step up from where she had been for so long. She had nothing to lose.
And she was so tired of being alone behind the walls.
"I," Eowyn began, a slight crack in her voice from the dryness of her throat. She swallowed hard before trying again. "I will try this with you," she finally managed, wishing to turn her gaze from the enchanting eyes, but she could not. "I do not deny I would like to find enjoyment in what has been too often forced upon me and that I," she flushed a deep red, "I find you quite striking. I would give you what yo..."
"There will be no give nor take in this," Arwen cut her off with a smile, her thumb stroking back pale locks of hair. "We will share with one another. I shall never have you go farther or faster than you wish. You will set our pace, if you are truly willing. And perhaps," she took a hand away from Eowyn's face and took her hand, "perhaps, in time, I will come to win the prize of your trust."
Eowyn looked away, gazing at the empty bath. She was cursed in the ways of love. Every time she dared hope it ended in degradation, but somehow the elven woman made the chance seem worthwhile. "You paint such a lovely picture," she said at last, hesitating before completing her statement in a whisper, "I will become you lover."
"Splendid!" Arwen said with a laugh, pressing a kiss to the shieldmaiden's forehead. "I do not believe you will regret this." She held the hand tight and tipped Eowyn's face to look upon her once more. "But even if you wish this to end, at any time, do not think it will harm our friendship. No oath or bond holds you to me. You are free to go as you please with the knowledge I will always hold my arms to you in companionship, as my true friend in the world of Men."
A slight smile formed on Eowyn's pale lips. This was too good to be true, but she vowed to enjoy its sweetness until it went sour. Her hand reached out and touched Arwen's face, stroking the feather soft cheek of the elf's cheek and over the lips. "I have always wanted to do that," she said softly, not daring to touch any lower than the graceful chin.
"We shall go at the pace you set, Rider of Rohan," Arwen smiled, kissing the tips of the pale fingers as Eowyn blushed at the title. "Never fear to tell me I go to fast."
The Queen leaned forward, cupping Eowyn's face in her hands and pressing a kiss to the shieldmaiden's lips, closed-mouthed, firm and gentle. She pulled away after only a moment and smiled, stroking the long flaxen hair and toying with strands between her fingers. "And that is something I have wanted to do again since Rohan."
Eowyn pressed her lips together briefly, looking away as a blush burned on her cheeks. She licked her lips slightly, reveling in the aftermath of the pleasant union. A resolve steeled in her stomach as she looked back at the Queen, taking in the unassuming gaze. She vowed not to constantly be the passive one, waiting to follow Arwen's lead. A slight smile quirked on her lips as she pushed forward.
Lips locked with lips as the shieldmaiden's arms wrapped around the Queen, pushing her back as Arwen's arms wrapped around her shoulders. The kiss was dry and fumbling at first, but slowly their mouths opened and Eowyn shyly forced her tongue between the elf's luscious lips.
There was a loud splash, and it wasn't until the water seeped through the fabric of her dress that Eowyn realized she had shoved them both into the bath and that she was astride the Queen of the Reunited Kingdoms in a very backward position. "I apologize," she gasped, trying to pull away as she clumsily slipped and fell back atop the elven woman. "That was too forward of me," she said, splashing around as she tried to wipe the water and hair from her eyes.
Arwen simply laughed, a merry sound that calmed the embarrassment that blossomed in the shieldmaiden. "No, Eowyn, I was forward," she said, taking hold of the other woman's shoulders and helping her to a sitting position and brushing the fair locks from the flustered face. "Do not fret. I enjoyed it," the Queen grinned, leaning forward and giving her a peck on the cheek before rising and helping Eowyn to her feet. The soaked dress was inhibiting her ability to move with the usual grace she possessed.
"I would ask you to continue this bath with me," the Queen continued with a coy smile, "but I believe that would be too much for you at this time."
"Yes," Eowyn blushed, steadying herself on the edge of the stone bath as she managed to step out. "I am still unsure if this is the right choice."
"It is," Arwen assured her, sitting on the edge of the bath as the Rohirrim woman rang out the loose sleeves of her dress. "Ring your dress out as best you can and leave it by the fire. There are some shifts in the wardrobe that should fit you," she offered as Eowyn let out a curse, splattering some water on the floor.
"I can't exactly go back to my room in nothing but a shift," she sighed, wondering how much attention wandering the halls in a sopping dress would garner.
"Then it appears you will have to bide your time with me until your gown dries," Arwen said in a chipper voice.
Eowyn felt herself tense and her stomach roll as she questioned whether or not things could go bad so quickly. Surely Arwen would not try to take advantage of her the same day she had spoken such words of time and caring. "What would I do?" she asked, hoping it sounded calm.
From the way Arwen laughed and shook her head, it was clear she had failed in that attempt. "My dear friend. I said I would not force you into anything you were not ready for," she chuckled as she looked up at the shieldmaiden. "I was merely thinking you could scrub my back for me and we could have the pleasant talk I had intended for us to have."
"Oh." Eowyn felt herself flush again. She couldn't remember blushing so much, even as a young girl. "I believe I will go change then," she said, moving toward the door. "Should I call someone to refill your bath, as I am wearing nearly half the contents."
"No," the elf answered, swirling her foot in the half-filled bath. "I am half done anyway."
Eowyn nodded, trying to take in the sight of the nude woman covertly as she turned away and exited the room. "The wardrobe is in the third connected room to the right of this one," Arwen called after her as Eowyn heard the sound of the bath water greeting the Queen in once more.
Schlepping her way across the main chamber of the Queen's quarters to the room that held the wardrobe Eowyn could only wonder if she had made the right choice. "I suppose I will find out," she breathed to herself, opening the large wooden wardrobe and pulling out one of the many pale shifts.
Tossing it over a nearby table she began to undress, peeling herself out of the green dress and the garments beneath. She cast a look over her shoulder to make sure no one was looking in on her. Faramir assured her she had a perfect form, and usually she agreed; but after seeing Arwen naked...
She looked down at herself and wondered what she truly had to offer the Queen. Her hands ran over her shoulders, glancing at the freckles her husband thought were so adorable and wondering if Arwen would feel the same. With a last sigh she slipped on the shift and decided not to worry about it for now. There would be time in the future for such worries, if she was lucky.
Picking up the soaked dress and preparing to return to Arwen she noticed a stream of golden light coming in through the window in the corner of the room. Curiously she walked toward it, dropping the dress on the table and shielding her eyes with a hand. She blinked furiously as her eyes adjusted.
The White City below glistened under a freshly fallen blanket of snow, blinding in its brilliance as the guards resumed their patrols along the walls. The dark clouds had disappeared as if they never were and the sun shone bright and beautiful in the sky, illuminating all that lay below it. Eowyn marveled for a moment before letting out a laugh and gathering up her wet cloths as she dashed to tell Arwen the winter sun had indeed appeared to greet the world.
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Winter Sun by Genesis Grey
Story notes: As the story is told from Eowyn's point of view, so I mostly use the Riddermark for Rohan, unless a Gondorian is speaking or it is part of a title. This is the sequel to my story Sin which can be read at the library of moria. To be competely honest, you don't need to have read that story to read this on, but it is recommended. Feedback welcomed and appriciated. :) Enjoy!
Beta: My sweet lil Nethene
