Title: Caged
Author: Tattycat (catwyche@yahoo.com)
Pairing(s): Eowyn/Arwen
Rating: R
Summary: Eowyn's marriage is not what she had hoped;
Arwen attempts to relieve her loneliness.
Post-LOTR.
Disclaimer: The characters and places in this fiction
belong to the Tolkien estate. They are
borrowed without permission to act out my own
inspiration. No profit being made.



I have seen you, when you did not know I watched. I
have seen the look in your eyes when you think of him,
when you look at him. Your love is so clear, shining
from those wide blue eyes like the light of the stars
themselves. I do not know which is the Evenstar, but
it could not compare to your eyes for beauty, and for
coldness.

You didn't see me, not really. Oh, you spoke to me,
smiled at me when I passed you in the halls. You
greeted me as one wife of a great man would greet
another, that tone of distant respect and
understanding of a fate shared. I was ever aware that
you could not know the secrets of my heart, the dark
feelings I harbored. You would turn from me as the
moon in daylight, shrouding your beauty in disgust at
my base desire for you.

Those visits to your husband's court were events I
treasured, even as I cursed them. The life of your
home is so different from our own, your husband so
different from mine. He was loving, at first, kind and
steady and tender enough to make me forget the pain of
losing the Ranger, and I loved him with all the
ferocity of one who would drown unrequited love in the
seas of certainty. That love has waned, with the
passage of time, until all we have left to us is an
icy agreement, a duty to our people that cannot be
relinquished for love or happiness. I envied your
love, your closeness, the flame that never seemed to
die between you and that left no room for one such as
me. And still I dreamed, shadowy fantasies inflamed by
the slightest brush of your sleeve against mine, the
whisper of your gowns over stone floors, the subtle
scent of your hair in the sunlight.

Did you know how I ached for a touch–your touch, or
anyone's–after years of solitude? I would sit in on a
bench by the window in my rooms in your husband's
house and imagine that you sat with me, that your cool
hand rested on my arm. I could close my eyes and feel
the whisper of your fingers against my fevered face,
smoothing my sweat-tangled hair away from my neck. I
felt common beside you, a sweaty, disheveled mortal in
the presence of a transcendent beauty, but you did not
seem to notice my failings. Your eyes on me were as
gentle as your hands and your lips were the barest
echo of pressure on my skin.

Imagine, then, how it was for me the day I opened my
eyes from such desperate dreams to find you sitting
next to me, so close I could see the porcelain sheen
of your skin. Your eyes, deep and full of wisdom,
seemed to bore into the secret places of my soul and
pry out the most shameful desires of my heart. I could
not keep your gaze; I tuned away from you then,
ashamed by the longing I felt so naked on my face.

You laughed then, a sound full of crystal and music.
Do you know how you remind me of another Elf whose
golden fairness intrigued me even as I lusted after
his closest companion? Where did this desire for Elves
arise, this need for beauty and grace in me who was
raised to value practicality above all else? I am a
daughter of kings, a shieldmaiden of Rohan, not some
besotted girl fawning over pointed ears and a graceful
way of walking. And yet...

"Why do you turn from me, Eowyn? Am I not pleasing to
you?" Your voice was low, a sweet tone washing over my
numb ears. You stroked the side of my face; I closed
my eyes but could not control the shudder that coursed
through my body. My skin blazed, a moist heat that
crawled along my limbs and settled in the hidden
crevices of my body.

"You are not happy. I have seen you, wandering our
corridors, watching us. You are lonely, are you not?"
You lifted my chin, forcing me to look into your
fathomless eyes.

"Yes." My voice was a broken whisper. I felt tears
well up in my eyes and spill over the edges, streaks
of salt water coursing to my chin. You clasped my
fingers to your breast, stilling the trembling.

"Dear one. You are so cold, so alone. Such beauty, to
be locked away behind stone and steel."

Your lips pressed to my cheek, your tongue tracing the
salty remains of my tears. Your slim fingers stroked
the line of my jaw, trailing down the column of my
throat, settling at the nape of my neck even as your
other hand pressed my fingers to your breast. Your
lips caught at mine, the hunger in them surprising me.
I did not know your people were capable of such
hunger, such obvious desire–or are you adjusting your
responses for my sake? I moaned against your lips as
your hand slipped over my shoulder and clasped my
waist.

I pushed away from you, a sudden thought intruding.
"What about Aragorn? Your husband, my
lady, would he not be displeased?"

You smiled softly, a radiance even in your luminous
face. "He has noticed your sadness also. He had not
the heart to approach you himself, knowing that you
have avoided him all these years for sake of his
happiness." 

I gasped aloud as you slid open the top buttons of my
heavy gown and eased the soft fabric from my
shoulders. You nibbled at my shoulder, along my
collarbone; the sensation was so intense it startled a
cry from my lips. You raised your dark head, your eyes
mischievous. You stroked my lips with cool fingers.

"Is this not what you have wanted, Eowyn? Haven't you
longed for my touch, for the comfort of my body next
to yours throughout the long night? Will you deny your
desires now, when they are so easy to grasp?"

My lips parted of their own accord, my tongue
delicately touching the tips of your fingers. You
smiled, desire plain on your face.

"You are so fair, so lovely. You are near as fair as
an Elf..." You lowered your head to my shoulder again,
lapping at the sensitive skin below my collarbone. I
gasped again, shifting on the bench, my fingers
twining in your silky hair. You nipped at my skin,
your teeth wringing another cry from my throat. You
pulled away then, swiftly releasing the remaining
buttons until my dress fell around my hips in a puddle
of dark velvet. 

You rose, pulling my to my feet so that the garment
fell from my body onto the cold floor. I stood,
shivering, as the cold air of my rooms struck my hot
skin. My nipples tightened, as much from your gaze as
from the sudden chill. You reached for me and released
my hair with a single pull so that it spilled down my
back. You smiled, biting your lower lip, and stepped
out of your dress.

I had thought you fair before. The sight of your body
nearly undid me where I stood. Your skin was so pale
and creamy, so luminous against my own skin that I
looked as tanned as my husband. Your hair fell over
your breasts, clouding their fullness until I ached to
bury myself in its richness. You waited only a moment,
watching me with hooded eyes, before drawing me into
your arms. We tangled together, all soft limbs and
curves and seeking lips, falling together onto the bed
in a storm of passion.

Your fingers found all the places that I had forgotten
I possessed, places that had not been touched since
the early years of my marriage. I bit my lips, trying
to restrain gasps of pleasure, but you teased them out
of me in the end. You murmured against my neck, soft
words of Elvish that I didn't understand yet reacted
to with a fervor strange to me. Your fingers slipped
between my legs, caressing me, sliding into me,
spreading my wetness until I shrieked into your mouth.
You rocked against me in your own pleasure, moaning my
name into the dark room. 

I turned away from you again, tears coming fast and
hard. You pulled me into your arms again, kissing the
tops of my cheeks and the damp fringes of my lashes
until I calmed and curled into the circle of your
arms. 

You were not there when I awoke, confused in the
morning light. I did not see you through that
endless day, as my husband conducted his business with
Aragorn. We left the next morning to return to our own
home, away from your beauty and tenderness, and I
felt, as we rode out, that some part of me had died. I
never returned to your home; I made excuses when my
husband traveled and hid myself away, pleading
illness, if you came to us.

I said once that all I feared in the world was a cage,
but I would gladly have traded a cage for the
loneliness that surrounds me now. I know that you
tried only to comfort me, to ease my sorrows for a
little while, to give me hope and reassurance. It is
not your fault that my cage has turned into a tomb; my
despair is my own making, and not even the stars can
comfort me now.