• 1-My Own

Disclaimer: Characters are Tolkien's but plotline is definitely not his. DEFINITELY not. Do not archive without my permission.

Warning: This story is rated NC-17 for brutal, graphic rape. No kids or delicate sensitivities allowed. You have been warned.

Summary: A dark glimpse of forbidden lust set in a dark forgotten corner of Meduseld, in Rohan, on the eve of the War...

Pairing: Guess.

Author's Note: No, I certa do do not condone rape. Though hey, if you want to commit incest and you're both willing adults, eh -- that's your business. ;) I should note that this is my first time writing such a subject; I mainly wanted to see if I could manage it. Hmm. You tell me.

Oh, and if you just want to tell me that I'm a sicko: bite me. I'm an adult, you're an adult, cope. Besides, I think I have much darker tales waiting to be told...

***

I have been watching her.

I have watched her grow from a sweet slip of a girl, all blond plaits and sunny smiles. I have watched her freckles fade into creamy beauty, watched her breasts bud and her hips curve, watched the young men of Edoras begin to notice her. They scent after her like young studs after a mare in heat.

I am more subtle. I merely shadow her.

At first I did not think of her as a woman. How could I have? She was a clumsy coltish imp in dirty cast-off tunics, forever getting underfoot and dogging Theodred's rounds. I watched her because of who she is, who she will become, not because I felt any stirrings for her childish form.

Yet the day came when I watched her play in the common yard with the King's hounds, splashing in and out of the water trough. She was a muddy mess, straw in her long gold mane, laughing as the dogs frolicked about smearing pawprints on her shift...her pale shift. Her wet pale shift. It clung to her body, to every sweet new curve, and as she tossed her head back to laug the the sun I saw what she had become.

And I wanted it. I wanted it so badly that I had to turn quickly away lest my sudden straining arousal attract attention.

I wanted Eowyn.

And I could not have her.

It ate at me. I hope it did not show, though perhaps some noticed. Perhaps. But whuld uld believe it? I was beloved of both King and heir, and my future shone bright in the heartland of the Mark. My lingering stares in her direction could easily be brushed away as simple protectiveness. She was, after all, my king's darling. If I could not be trusted with her safety, who else could?

But...it only became harder, with time. She grew taller and fairer with each passing month -- she changed her childish ways, began to take tentative steps towards becoming the lady of the Golden Hall. She wore gowns instead of britches, and wore her golden hair long and soft. My hands itched to touch it...no, to take it in my hands, to wrench her head aside to bare her throat, to place hard kisses down that long pale throat, to mark her as my own!

But I could not. I could not.

She tormented me. She did not know, no...I do not fault her for that. She was an innocent, her maidenhood protected by her vigilant family. I did my loyal part -- driving away suitors, keeping foul tales from her ears -- but not for the reason others thought. Not to protect her. No. To keep her. To keep her for my own...even if I could never touch her.

And then...

And then.

War came to our lands. War had always crouched and skulked around the edges of the Mark, of course -- Riders had died on orc blades for many generations before. But now the end of the war loomed on the horizon...and it was a black horizon indeed, offering no dawn.

And when there is no dawn, who cares what happens in the night?

Perhaps I had a little too much mead that night. I know she did. Ladies are not supposed to drink, one would think, but she does, and she did. She should have known better. She knows she becomes more dizzy and sick than drunk. Yet, sometimes, in these last days, she tries anyway.

I offered to walk her back to her chambers, as I had a hundred times before, and as a hundred times before she accepted. She trusts me. I know she has caught me staring, and it disturbs her even in her innocence, but I would never lay a hand on her.

It would be...wrong.

So when she stumbled in the dimly-lit corridor, and I wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her, there was no cause for alarm. I had lifted her in my arms as ald, ld, had I not? I had not been this close to her in a long time, however. Eowyn was no longer a little girl. Her hip belled out under my hand, and the soft curve of her breast pressed against my chest as she leaned close for support.

My arm tightened, drawing her closer, and still she did normurrmur a protest. I was helping her, was I not? Protecting her...

We reached her chambers and I guided her inside. Always, before, I had stopped on the threshold, asresprespecting the sanctity of a lady's chambers. She knew this. She turned within my supporting arm, surprised but smiling. "Were you planning to put me to bed like a child? I can manage well enough myself, thank y--"

I kissed her.

Eowyn made the most delightful shocked sound as my lips closed on hers. She tried to pull back, to turn aside, but my other hand was already behind her head, gripping it firmly by the base of her skull. She tried to speak, to tell me to stop -- and I pressed in deep with my tongue, sliding over her sweet soft lips to claim her mouth deep and hard. Her fists pushed against my chest, but I held her tight about the waist and she could gain no leverage.

When I broke for air, she spluttered indignantly. She seemed to think that it was a drunken joke -- I believe she said something about "sleeping it off" and "never speak of it again." I was barely lningning. Yearswantwant and need were tumbling downslope like water from a broken dam. A kiss was not enough. Not enough! Here, tonight, she was mine.

I closed my hand at the back of her head, cruelly gripping her thick blonde hair as I had dreamed for so long. She broke off in mid-scold and gasped in pain as my next kiss nearly drew blood beneath her jaw, and I had to tell myself to go lightly. I could not leave marks on herr skr skin. Not where they would show on the morrow...

Eowyn was trying to strike me now, to throw me aside. She was tall and strong, and doubtless would have had better luck had she not been blurred from the ill-chosen mead. I caught her wrist easily and bore her back onto the bed, letting my weight fall between her flailing legs to pin her within a welter of skirts. She almost escaped when I paused to rip cloth from her gown, but then I was upon her again, the two of us almost one in our struggle for control.

I won. I managed to throw her onto her stomach, dashing her head against the wall and knocking theht fht from her just long enough to wrestle her arms behind her and bind them tight with the torn linen. When I rolled her over onto her back her eyes were fiery with rage, the mead burned away in her fury.

She told me to stop. I shook my head. She screamed. I calmly pointed out that she'd chosen such remote quarters that no one would ever hear her. She tried to reason with me. "You will regret this later," she said most reasonably. I told her she was probably right...and wrong too. I d ned never regret this.

Never regret what I did.

With her arms bound behind her, her normally modest breasts now arched up as if begging to be mauled. I took my time unlacing her bodice; she was silent now, breathing in harsh frightened little snorts like a scared filly. "Shhh now, shhh..." I told her as I drew down her thin blouse, not really thinking about what I was saying. All that mattered were those beautiful bare palm-sized orbs as they rolled into my hands. She had dusky pink nipples, just like I had glimpsed that day at the water trough, and they contracted to hard nubs upon contact with the cold air.

I leaned down to take one into my mouth, and her strangled cry was like a lightning bolt igniting my lust. As if possessed, I licked and sucked, completely absorbed in making her buck beneath my mouth. When her reactions began to dull with use, I caught her other breast and pinched that nipple hard even as I bit down on the first.

She squealed and tried to writhe away, but I did not let go. I transferred my teeth to the second and hungrily chewed...even as my free hand slid down through the ruins of blouse and bodice over taut belly and down into a welter of askew skirts...

Eowyn's eyes went wide with shock as my fingers toyed with the damp curls between her thighs, which were wantonly splayed around my knee. She screamed again, a note of true terror threading through the outrage at last. Good. I bit down hard, then lunged up to brutally kiss her again as she choked in mid-shout. And my hand pushed deeper, probing, sliding into soft wetness and prying apart untouched folds with casual abandon.

Thus I tasted the sound of her first violation, her sob muffled by my questing tongue, swallowing her wordless plea and wanting more. Wanted her to scream and cry as I plunged into her, over and over. She was mine