Sin | By : helfireclub Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2650 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Arwen sighed as she walked through the halls of Meduseld. It was the dead of night and other than the n bre breeze rustling the occasional tapestry there was naught moving but the Queen of the Reunited Kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor. She let out another light sigh. It had never occurred to her that Gondor would become her home as much as Rivendell had been, but she found herself longing to return as soon as possible. Rohan was a beautiful place and its people kind and strong, but they spoke of little other than horses and riding. Even Eowyn, who had become her closest friend, had reverted and seemed to be able to talk of little else. She was glad to be leaving in a seven days time when Faramir arrived to escort them back to the White City.
A light smile curved her lips as Arwen imagined her homecoming. The horns would be blown and there would be cheering and a great ceremony to welcome her, but she cared little for that. The true joy of her arrival would be the joyous look itel’tel’s eyes at her safe return and the gentle smile upon his lips.
A sound caught her attention and she stopped, listening to see if it would repeat. It did. A low, muffled sound too soft for a human to hear; but Arwen could. The sound was full of pain and anguish and defeat, and it broke her heart to hear it in the halls of such a proud people.
She turned and moved toward the sound, her feet moving noiselessly over the stone floor as she approached the great hall where the throne of Rohan sat. As she walked into the hall she found herself hiding behind one of the great stone pillars and pressing a hand to her mouth to hold back the shock of what she saw.
There, on the throne, sat Lothiriel, daughter of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth and Queen of Rohan, wearing nothing more than a simple nightgown. Her head was thrown back in pleasure as she let out a low moan. But it was not Lothiriel that Arwen had heard. That pitiable sound came from the woman that knelt before the Rohirrim Queen. Her head buried between the pale legs, long flaxen hair falling over strong shoulders that shuddered with unwept sobs.
Eowyn.
Lothiriel let out a grunt of pleasure as her body tensed. The hands that had been trailing through Eowyn’s long locks, gently stroking and forcing the shieldmaiden to remain in her thrall, grasped the hair roughly and pressed her closer. Her hips bucked against Eowyn’s face as she let out a cry of release and collapsed bonelessly into the throne, her hands releasing their painful grip on Eowyn’s hair.
As soon as she was free Eowyn pushed away from the throne, tumbling backwards down the three stairs that stood before the throne, and hitting the stone floor of the audience chamber. She coughed violently from where she lay on the ground, spitting and wiping the sleeve of her gown across her lips in disgust.
Arwen shook with rage at the sight. She did not know what circumstances had lead to such a thing, but it was clear that Lothiriel had taken something that was not freely given. She longed to leap from the shadows and shake the youngest child of Prince Imrahil and demand to know where such an evil soul had come from when all others of her blood were a kind and gentle sort.
But Arwen did not move.
Eowyn was a dear friend and being such Arwen knew the proud and headstrong sheildmaiden would be crushed to find someone had witnessed her humiliation at the hands of her brother’s wife. It turned Arwen’s stomach, but unless the Lady of the Shield-arm asked for help she could do nothing but stand by and watch.
A low groan caught Arwen’s attention, pulling her from her thoughts as Lothiriel sat up on the throne. She gave the blond woman who lay below her, still trembling in revulsion, an arrogant smile as she stood up. Her nightgown fell to her ankles, once again covering her form, as she stepped down the stairs toward Eowyn.
“Perhaps now I shall go make love to your brother,” she taunted. “Would not that be wonderful? His own penetration made easier by the ministrations of his own sister’s mouth.” Eowyn looked up and growled but saithinthing. “Or maybe I shall have him kneel before me and pleasure me as you did, on his knees like a common servant.”
“My brother kneels before no one!” Eowyn snapped in anger.
Lothiriel smiled and it was not a kind look as she knelt down in front of the of of Ithilien. Her hand reached forward and stroked a strand of hair behind Eowyn’s ear and then trailed her fingers along the line of the blond woman’s face. “But you should see how he writhes beneath me, dearest Eowyn, how he calls my name and begs and pleads with me for the pleasure I give. He would do anything for me in those moments, dear sister, and allow me to do anything to him.” As she spoke a wicked light glinted in her eyes.
Eowyn lunged at Lothiriel, snatching the hand away from her face and twisting the arm violently to the side as her other hand clutched the slender neck of the Queen. “You will not speak of my brother in such a carefree manner. Nor treat me as you have. I am a shieldmaiden of Rohan, not some weak servant you can toy with,” she said vehemently. “I could break you here and now with my bare hands if I wished.”
“And I could break your soul asunder,” Lothiriel replied, one hand gripping Eowyn’s wrist as her eyes sparkled with pain at the way her other arm was twisted. “Or have you forgotten your crime? Your sin? Release me!”
Eowyn’s hands twitched on Lothiriel’s neck and arm. She let go and turned aside, letting the Queen of Rohan sink to the ground and sit upon the stairs. “Never forget, Eowyn, daughter of kings,” the woman said mockingly as she stroked the red imprint on her neck, “that you knelt before me today of your own freewill. Because you betrayed a sacred trust and would rather fall to your knees and compound your disgrace then let me speak of your shame to your beloved brother.”
“You have no right to hold such a thing over me,” Eowyn said, her voice a mere whisper as she stared at the stones of the floor. “You should not know.”
“But I do,” Lothiriel assured her as she stood up and walked toward Eowyn, running a finger down the woman’s cheek, “and now you are ever at my command, lest you wish your brother to know as well.”
Eowyn growled and lightly slapped the hand away from her face, but gave no other reply, not even raising her head to look upon her tormenter. Lothiriel walked past her and let out a cruel laugh as she disappeared into the halls of Meduseld; the oppressive laughter seemed to remain as it echoed against the stonewalls for a long time after she was gone.
Arwen felt her heart break again as a cry of distress ripped itself from Eowyn’s lips and she collapsed onto the ground, cradling her face in her hands as she gently rocked to comfort herself. The elven woman knew not what sin Eowyn had committed, but she knew that Lothiriel had no right to treat her thus. She felt an anger rise in her as she thought of the torment the proud woman would be forced to endure in the future if something was not done. So distracted was she in thoughts of anger and defying Lothiriel’s cruelty that when she found herself locked with a pair of blue eyes and she waockeocked to find Eowyn had seen her.
“How long have you been there, my Queen?” Eowyn demanded, rising from the ground as Arwen came out from behind the pillar. Her hands clasped before her and her face the epitome of a queenly mask of indifference.
“Long enough, I fear,” she answered. She would not insult Eowyn by lying to the shieldmaiden and claiming she had seen nothing.
“And what have you to say?” Eowyn said in a challenging tone, holding her head high in a way that made Arwen smile. Even in the darkest of moments her dear friend was as proud as an elf.
“I would know what great sin you have committed that Lothiriel deems so grave she must punish you so,” Arwen replied as she gracefully walked toward blond woman. “I doubt that it can be so grievous.”
Eowyn said nothing, simply turning her gaze away until Arwen was close enough to touch two fingers to the woman’s chin and force their eyes to meet. For a moment stormy gray eyes warred with sky blue ones before Eowyn let a sigh escape her lips, knowing the Queen of Gondor and Arnor would find out even if she did not speak of it.
“Lothiriel spoke of two indiscretions I have made in life,” Eowyn said, turning her eyes away from the Queen, “she learned I lain with another after I had become married to Faramir and that it was a woman I took to bed. The other is…” her voice cracked, “I beg you not to ask me to speak of it. Know only that it has hurt no one and the sin merely exists in my own mind, naught else, but that it is against the morals of my people and for that I shall be judged in death.”
“Very well,” Arwen said softly, stroking back Eowyn’s hair and making the woman look at her again. “But I do not see the grave error of your first indiscretion. Surely Faramir will forgive you such a thing. He loves you, does he not?”
A smile came to Eowyn’s lips for the first time that evening. “He does,” she said, “and he already knows. It was him that suggested it if truth be known. We love each other dearly, but it is a love of friendship and duty, not lust and passion. I bid him to go to the lover he wished and he bid me to find one of my own and we shall worry about an heir to Ithilien later.”
“Then how does Lothiriel hold this over you?” Arwen asked in confusion.
The smile faded from Eowyn’s face. “I fear she will tell my brother,” she answered. “I would not have him know that I forsook my vows to Faramir, even if he bid me do so, and I would not let him find that I took another woman to bed. It is forbidden for women to do such things in Rohan and even in Ithilien I am ever the White Lady of Rohan.”
A sudden anger rose in Arwen. “Lothiriel found you had disobeyed the laws of your homeland and forced you to do so again, for her pleasure, by threatening to reveal it had occurred in the first place?” she said with a sigh of displeasure. “Know you how she came to know of this at all?”
“My lover was not as trustworthy as she seemed,” Eowyn replied bitterly. “She sold the information to Lothiriel, whose dislike of me is well known among the peasantry, and fled to Arnor.”
“Why would she do such a thing?” Arwen asked in surprise.
A shamed blush came to Eowyn’s face and she looked away from the Queen. “I cried a name that was neither hers nor my husbands in the heat of passion and she became very angry,” she answered softly.
“And the name was also sold to Lothiriel?” Arwen asked. “It tells of your other sin?”
“Yes,” Eowyn said in a hoarse whisper, still not looking at the elven woman before her.
“I will not ask you of it if you do not wish, Eowyn,” Arwen said gently, reaching forward and turning Eowyn’s face toward her with a sympathetic smile. “You should not be punished for crimes of the heart, even if that is the way of your people. You were betrayed by someone you cared for…”
Eowyn laughed, a bitter sad sound, and she quickly covered her mouth to hide it as she pulled away from Arwen and began to walk away. She swayed slightly and let out another bark of laugher, collapsing against one of the stone pillars that lined the room. Her arms wrapped around it for support. “And there lies the true mockery of my life,” she said, her back to Arwen. “I did not love her.
“She was kind enough, or so I thought, and Faramir wished me to be with someone so that he would not feel guilty being with his own lover.” There was a ht sht sob to her voice as she continued to speak as if she needed to explain herself. “I took her because she did not recoil at the thought of being with me as so many others would have. I cannot abide by men, you see, they are too hard and without the soft curves of a woman. Even as a young girl I found myself wishing to gaze upon the women of these halls. It scared me. As I grew older I feared Grima knew and that he would have me as Lothiriel has this day, on my knees, indulging his pleasure in return for the favor he would tell no one of my wicked lusts.”
She trembled and Arwen stepped forward, intending to pull her into a gentle embrace, but the Queen stopped, knowing that Eowyn needed to finish her story. “He never found out. Or if he did he had just enough kindness in him to leave me be.” The shieldmaiden sucked in a breath of air as her hand stroked down the pillar, as if stroking the back of a mighty steed. “I do not know why I continue this ridiculous yearning for my own sex. It has brought me nothing but pain, degradation, and dishonor. A few blissful touches, a kiss, and then they force me to my knees, seeking their own enjoyment. I will have no more of it!” Her voice rose and broke as she sank to the ground, her breath catching in violent sobs as her arms wrapped around her sides and tears began to fall down her round cheeks.
Arwen rushed forward, letting her queenly demeanor fall as she knelt beside Eowyn and pulled the woman into her arms, cradling the weeping woman against her breast and rocking gently as she sang soothing elvish songs. Eowyn sobbed against her, huddling close even as she held herself tight in an attempt to put a barrier between herself and the Queen. “Little one,” Arwen said, stroking her long fingers through Eowyn’s soft and coarse tresses, “you need not feel shame for your lust. It is a natural thing, even if your people would say otherwise. You have been unlucky in your pursuits and the sadness that you feel resonates in my own heart. That they would not share the joys of lovemaking when you so readily gave it to them hardens my heart against those women.”
“It is the way of things,” Eowyn lamented miserably, though her body seemed to relax in Arwen’s grip. “You need not trouble yourself with it.”
“But it is not, my friend!” Arwen cried, a lilt of desperation in her melodic voice. “And if you have been hurt then I willingly burden myself with your troubles.”
Eowyn let out an angry sobbing sigh even as she huddled closer to Arwen, finally opening her arms to hold the other woman and allowing the barrier to fall. “How would you know of such things?” she said in anger even as she sought the Queen’s strong embrace. “You AragAragorn know a love for which you would forsake the everlasting life of an elf. Why would you ever seek love or comfort in the arms of another woman?”
“Because Aragorn is often gone and it pleases me to do so,” Arwen answered, though she knew the questions to have been mere spiteful rhetoric. “He would not begrudge me to take another lover, be they male or female.”
“You act as if you have done so,” Eowyn said as her sobs tapered off and she looked up with wide blue eyes, reddened from crying. Surprise was etched in every feature of her face as she waited for Arwen’s next words.
“Indeed,” the Queen replied with a gentle smile as she brushed the loose strands of hair out of the human woman’s face. “I have had three female lovers in my lifetime, including Aragorn’s own mother; but once Aragorn and I became bonded she sought another for comfort.” A light laugh fell past her lips at the memory Estel’s shocked face when he had learned ors ars and Gilraen’s tryst. “Of that he occasionally begrudges me, but never to the point of anger.”
“There is no resentment that you would take another lover?” Eowyn said, unable to grasp such a thing. “How did you hide the secret of these affairs?”
“There was no secret,” Arwen replied, her eyes softening as the mirth faded from her smile and she remembered the situation at hand. “The elves do not discriminate against such things. In fact there are few laws that rule our intimate lives, and those there are,” she stopped for a moment and pressed her lips together, “and those few there are can often be overlooked if the need arises.” There was a sniffle to break her from her thoughts and Arwen looked down and smiled again. “It is also quite common for elves to take lovers even after they have been bonded or married.”
“I do not understand,” the blond woman with a shake of her head before letting it drop against Arwen’s chest once more.
“Often we take friends and lifelong companions as lover for comfort or play; to share the joys that the bodyngs,ngs,” she explained as she gently tightened her hold on Eowyn, desperate to make the woman understand. “There is no shame in it. I myself have always preferred the touch of another woman to that of a man.”
Eowyn let out a gasp of surprise and Arwen smiled gently as she continued to speak. “That Aragorn is a man is a bit unfortunate,” the Queen of the Reunited Kingdoms smiled led let out a little laugh, “though he would look hideous as a woman, so perhaps it is better that way.” In her arms she could feel Eowyn’s cheeks twitch and smile at the thought. “But I love him nonetheless.”
“You are lucky,” Eowyn said after a moment of silence. “I have never known such love. Faramir loves me dearly, but his own lover is closer to his heart. Not that I would deny him it, for I am truly happy that he has found a love, but I feel such a loneliness knowing he lies in the arms of one he loves and I, at best, am forced between the thighs of one who will have me for the night.”
“Oh, Eowyn,” Arwen moaned sadly. “You just have not found the right women to love you.”
“None will love me,” came the bitter reply. “It is a fate I have accepted.”
“That is not true!” the dark haired elf argued angrily, feeling the intense urge to shake the blond until she realized what a blessing she was, but she controlled herself and continued gently stroking the woman’s flaxen hair.
“I suppose you would say you love me!” Eowyn said spitefully, though her arms wrapped around the Queen’s middle in an almost pleading embrace.
“You are a dear friend that has made me feel comfortable among the strangeness of men. I would find no trouble loving you,” Arwen answered truthfully. A frown curved her lips as Eowyn tensed in her arms, the grip about her waist became lax, and the human woman’s breath seemed to stop in her throat. “This is not pity,” she said to assuage the unspoken fears.
“It must be,” the shieldmaiden whispered.
Arwen shifted out of Eowyn’s grasp and placed her hands on either side of the pale face, forcing the woman to look up at her. “Eowyn,” she said as she looked into the teary blue eyes, “I would not lie to you. You are a dear, kind friend and I would show you the love and pleasure that a woman could give. I would show you what have been missing. And I would never force you to your knees for my enjoyment. I would show you the gentle caresses and,” she drew the woman into a kiss, pressing their lips together in a chaste union before pulling away, “and precious kisses that have been denied to you so long.”
“Aragorn,” Eowyn reminded the Queen listlessly, her clear gaze lost in the stormy gray of Arwen’s eyes. “You have Aragorn.”
“And you have Faramir,” she smiled slightly, not breaking eye contact. She found the eye color of the Rohirrim woman enchanting. They were the light color of the sky just before sunrise when light began to creep into the world. “You have not heard what I have said. He would not mind such a thing. It might even hearten him to know that it is a Lady such of yourself that I lie with. One who, perhaps, would endeavor to understand me rather than be in awe of my elven appearance.” Delicate fingers stroked down Eowyn’s face. “I have desired to touch you since the day we met in Gondor. I thought it wrong pursue you in a fashion other than friendship since such things are not done in the realms of men. I feared it would fren yen you and I would have no friend at all.”
Eowyn’s face paled and Arwen feared she had said the wrong thing. It would not do to frighten the girl away so quickly. “Why?” Eowyn asked at last, not pulling away from the elven woman’s touch, but not leaning into it either. “Why would you wish to touch me?”
“You are beautiful and strong. Why would I not?” Arwen smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to the pale forehead. “You are valiant and courageous and giving. I know you would take enjoyment from our intimate union and I would not fear that you came just to please me. My kind cannot abide the idea of taking pleasure when the one we are with is not.”
The human woman became silent and lost in thought as Arwen stroked her hair, once again pulling the shieldmaiden into her arms. “I do not ask you to choose now. I merely offer and ask that you think on it. If you choose to give up on your affections for women, then I am content to be your friend. But if you would at l all allow me to once show you the pleasures a woman can give I would be most pleased.”
Eowyn said nothing as she gently rocked in Arwen’s arms and for a moment the dark-haired elf thought she had fallen asleep. “I thank you for your offer,” the fair-haired woman said quietly as she trembled almost unnoticeably, “and I will think on it. I would give you a reply now, but I fear it would not be an honest or fair answer for either of us in my current state.”
“You should sleep. The day has been tiresome for you,” Arwen said, realizing she should have taken the woman away from the site of her degradation earlier. She rose gracefully and pulled Eowyn to feetfeet as well. “I will take you to your chambers.”
“Lothiriel will find me there,” Eowyn muttered as she looked down at the ground. Arwen found herself hoping when the light of day rose the Lady of Ithilien would stop looking away in shame and shyness and return to her strong and proud self. If not the elven Queen vowed to have more than words with the Queen of Rohan.
“Then come to my room. You may rest there. I see no reason why Lothiriel would search for you in such a place; and if for some reason she should she would not take you from my company,” Arwen said, beginning to lead the blond down the hallway. “Come. I will sing you a song so that your sleep will be easy and peaceful. Come now.”
Eowyn was silent for a moment as they walked and she gripped Arwen’s arm with a strength that would leave mild bruises by morning. “I will come to your room to sleep,” she said with an emphasis on the last word.
“I said that I would not ask you to make that decision this night,” the Queen replied as she pushed open the heavy wood door and led Eowyn inside, shutting it behind them. “I will even sit in the chair away from you if that is your wish.”
“It is your bed,” Eowyn replied, even as she crawled onto the bed like a tired child and pulled the blankets around herself. “I would not deny you your own bed,” she said, her eyes shutting as the warmth of the furs and blankets sent her into dreams.
Arwen watched Eowyn as she fell to sleep, all the worries gone from her gentle face as she slowly breathed, huddling under the warm blankets. Arwen lay herself languidly on top of the covers, propped on one elbow as her other hand stroked the length of Eowyn’s long locks, occasionally curling one around her fingers before letting it slip away. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to woman’s temple and caressed her cheek. Eowyn mumbled and shrugged her shoulders as she fell farther into her dreams. A smile formed on Arwen’s lips as she leaned away, her hands moving through the blond hair again as she began to sing a gentle song of horses and plains.
The girl would be a good lover. She merely needed someone true to teach her the joys of such things. The elven woman was certain Eowyn would choose to be with her. She had not inherited the gift of foresight from Elrond, but she did have his gift for looking into the hearts of men. A sad smile turned her lips as she looked down at the fair-haired shieldmaiden and stroked her eyebrows. Arwen knew quite well whom it was that Eowyn sinfully loved and could never have. She longed to comfort the suffering soul, but for now the Rohirrim woman needed to believe that it was a secret only she and her two betrayers knew.
“But I know as well,” Arwen said softly as she broke from her song. “I have seen such a look in the eyes of my brothers when they gaze towards each other. The lust and longing for one that has been ever their companion and knows them better than any lover of a strange blood ever could. But always mixed with the fear that someone would notice such looks and break them asunder as is the unspoken law of all the free people of Middle Earth. The fear that one dreadful word should be spoken allowed: Incest.”
At the word Eowyn’s brow furrowed and she let out a grunt, rolling to her side and clenching her hands into fists, as if suddenly assaulted by some unknown monster. Gently fingers ran over her brow, smoothing the creases as a soft song filled the room, not stopping until her hands unclenched and her face became placid once more.
The sad look remained on Arwen’s face as she watched the woman breathe. “I fear Eomer will never love you more than as his dearest sister and truest companion. If it were in my power to change that I would, but I cannot and I do not believe you would wish me to alter your brother in any way.” Arwen leaned closer so her lips brushed over Eowyn’s ear. “But do you know that, though his love for you is only that of a sibling, you still hold a dearer place in his heart than his Queen ever shall.”
A contented sigh left n’s n’s lips as Arwen leaned away; and she wondered if it was at some sweet dream or the revelation she had spoken that lulled the weary spirit. She smiled gently. It did not matter. Eowyn would sleep safely and peacefully the rest of the night and in the morning they would speak of how to keep her from Lothiriel’s presence for the remainder of their stay. A grim look came to Arwen’s face as she thought of the Rohirrim Queen. She knew Eowyn would never allow a direct action against her brother’s wife, but Arwen could wait and remember while Eowyn healed and forgot. Someday Lothiriel would learn that it is not wise to harm one that an elf calls friend.
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