Masks

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Alura had waited until darkness began to touch the face of Gondor before heading on back towards the guest apartments. She was hungry, but couldn’t bring herself to go to the main dining hall. Resigned to suffer for the duration of the night, she targeted her cousin’s room, thinking she would be safe there for a time. She doubted neither Faramir nor Éomer would speak up in front of Éowyn just now, though part of her wondered how long it would be before that changed. They could not hide their ruthlessness for long.

The guards were there when she approached. “May I see my cousin?” she asked innocently, hoping such meek speech would win her entry.

“You may,” the guard on the right of the door said tonelessly, removing a key from his belt and unlocking the door.

The extreme measures they were using troubled Alura. Why would they have her under guard for a mere bout of illness brought on by wine? Alura entered the shadowy room and saw Éowyn standing at the window. She was still clothed in her nightgown. “How are you feeling?” she asked tentatively.

Éowyn turned with a pale smile. “I am okay, Alura. Very tired still.”

Biting her bottom lip, Alura sat down on the edge of the bed and watched her cousin slowly sink into the lounger she herself had fallen asleep in. “I don’t understand.”

“I don’t either. Perhaps the long trip is finally catching up with me,” she breathed, leaning back.

Alura rubbed the back of her neck absently, then fidgeted with her hands. “Why are there guards outside your door?”

Éowyn frowned and shook her head. “There are guards?”

“You haven’t tried to leave your room?”

The pale princesses breathed deeply. “I have been too tired to. Did you ask the guards why they were there?”

“No,” Alura replied softly. She swallowed back the urge to speak of the lockdown, of her fears. Of the abuse she had suffered. Her eyes remained on the blond, watching as Éowyn yawned and curled up. Éowyn’s illness was more than what she thought it was. Wine did not do this, not without continuing to drink it.

The door opened and her muscles tensed. Alura looked up and saw Éomer enter with a tray. He set it down on his sister’s lap, then eyed Alura. “There you are.” She didn’t know why, but the statement made her feel uncomfortable.

“And here I will stay,” she responded, unnerved when he laughed.

Éowyn picked at her dinner without much enthusiasm. Her eyes were locked on her brother. “Why am I being guarded?”

Éomer raised his brow. “I was not aware you knew it.” He shot a look at Alura, then smiled at his sister. “We did not want to worry you, but we fear your illness is more than mere wine. We thought it prudent to keep you under guard. Nothing more than that.”

“More than wine?” the blond whispered, visibly troubled by this. “Who would want to hurt me?”

“Someone that does not want Gondor and Rohan to unite, perhaps,” Éomer suggested. He turned to Alura. “I think we should leave her to rest, don’t you?” His tone did not imply he was giving her an option to voice an opinion.

Éowyn shook her head at that. “No, she just arrived. I want her to stay.”

“I must speak with her,” her brother insisted.

“Can it not wait?” the princess pressed.

Her blue eyes widened when he snapped sharply, “Éowyn!” then exhaled, shaking his head. “She can return if she likes after I speak with her. Surely you can part with her for a short while.”

“Think again before you take such a tone with me,” Éowyn hissed, her eyes sharing his gazing without faltering.

“Sister, behave,” her brother teased, then reached for Alura, wrapping his hand around her arm. He squeezed roughly, pulling her up. “Come, Alura. We would not want to upset her with a brawl. You know I will corner you one way or another.” His eyes showed her realms of meaning beyond the surface of those words.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Alura said with a roll of her eyes, trying to make light of the situation, but inwardly she was shaking. He drew her out of the room quickly and as soon as they were in the hall, she turned, trying to stay right where the guards would remain in sight.

Éomer laughed at that. “Do you think they care about the affairs of strangers, or the reprimand of a prince to his own?” he said plainly so the guards would hear, causing her to blush.

“What do you want?” she growled, not moving.

He shook his head and shoved her so that she faced the hall, then put his hands on her back, urging her away from Éowyn’s door. “You will refuse to accept what is before you,” he sighed, wrapping his arms around her when she tried to duck into her quarters. “No, dear cousin, that is not our destination.”

“What are you going to do?” she sneered, pulling away, but not running. She crossed her arms and glared as he came up to her right. “Are you going to stand there and make sure I eat dinner with Faramir?”

“Such a tongue you have,” he quipped in a voice coated in longsuffering. He shook his head, but remained silent. In fact he did not speak another word until they reached Faramir’s door. He knocked and gazed at her, but did not smile. His attitude made her uneasy.

The door opened and Faramir ran his eyes along both of them, then retreated, leaving it open. Éomer ushered her in first, then entered behind her, locking the door. She did not sit down, nor try to make herself comfortable, wanting this over with as soon as possible, hoping it would be mere discussion and nothing more. Faramir seated himself in a chair and watched her. Éomer was uncomfortably present at her back, close enough that she could feel his warmth. She felt cornered by them and wondered what they had in mind.

“You look a little tense,” Faramir suggested easily, motioning to a couch near him. “Why don’t you sit?”

“Just how long are you planning on keeping me here?” she replied without moving. “What is the purpose of this? Do you have a reasonable motive for having Éomer drag me here, or are you planning on this night going badly?”

Instead of addressing her, the young Captain of Gondor gazed over her shoulder with a smirk. “Did you drag her here, Éomer? How terrible.”

“I am a terrible man,” Éomer breathed and nudged his cousin before sitting down on the couch. He watched her very carefully, however. She did not miss those dark brown eyes trained on her every move.

Faramir sighed and looked again to where Alura stood, amusement glinting in his sky-colored eyes. He shook his head and toyed with the cuff of his surcoat. “Sit, stand. It will make no difference except to you. I want to know what you told Boromir.” His eyes watched her expression closely.

Too late she withheld her flinch and saw his notice of it reflected in his eyes. “I did not tell him the lies you told him. I did not tell him I was joyous at the prospect of marrying you.”

“Did you tell him anything else?” he asked with a slight edge to his tone.

“Like what?” she hissed, determined not to let this be easy. She would not play into his coy questions.

He smiled, seeming to perceive this, and abandoned his coy approach. “Did you tell him I raped you, Alura?”

His point blank question caught her off guard and she knew her silence was telling. Tightening her hands into fists, determined to fight whatever was to come of her actions, she raised her chin defiantly. “I told him that.”

Nodding as if he had not expected any other answer, Faramir stood and she stepped back, startled and wary of him. He did not laugh at her as she might have expected him to, nor sneer. Instead his eyes seemed filled with an underlying anger that she knew he was going to express. Still, he did not approach her just yet. He wandered to a table of drinks and poured some wine into a glass, then sipped it, watching her. “I am trying to figure on how best to approach this, Lady Alura. How best can you serve me, I wonder.”

“I’ll not serve you,” she replied through clenched teeth.

“Not by choice?” he replied with a soft smile. He took another sip, now wandering close to her. “What did Boromir say when you made your revelation?”

“He did not believe me.” Alura hated having to admit that to him, but lying would do no good if he went to Boromir. She crossed her arms and glared at him. “Why? Did he not talk about my ‘lies’ to you?”

Faramir raised his eyebrow, nodding to himself. “He did not believe you right away. Then this is salvageable. No, dear Alura, he did not. He said a few things that hinted at him searching for the truth. You see my brother isn’t ready for the truth yet, no matter how much my father and I wish it. Your little attempt to gain his help was not accommodating to our plans. Still, he does not want to believe you, it seems. You see, Alura, he is a hardheaded man. He has grown up with certain ideals. He wishes to see the picture in his own way, a way that may or may not work in achieving our goals.”

“What are those goals?” Alura said softly, biting her bottom lip. She was hungry to understand what was going on and he seemed so close to offering her a taste.

He smiled and reached out, taking a lock of her hair into his hand. He smoothed the soft strands through his fingers, weighing her. “The strength and peace of Gondor and Rohan are our goals.”

She pulled her hair out of his grasp. “Why would Boromir not wish to stand behind those goals?”

A laugh tumbled from his mouth. “The goals by themselves are good for all. Anyone would want them. But how far should a leader go to attain them for his people? If life for the baker in the markets did not change, would it matter if his king murdered someone that stood in the way of peace?”

“Who do you plan on murdering, Faramir?” she asked a little breathlessly, frightened by his deceptively calm demeanor. She had a feeling there was much more beneath the surface than a pampered prince taking what he wanted, including his women. Her eyes slid to Éomer, noticing his eyes on her intensely. “What’s going on?”

“Alura,” he whispered, cupping her cheek with his hand. He smoothed his thumb along her bottom lip. “No need to be afraid. It is not too late for you to become a part of this. In fact, it is my full intent you become a part of this. A good part of it, not merely a memory of what could have been.” His hand trailed down her throat, resting on her shoulder and rubbing warmly. “You don’t want to be a bad part of this, do you?”

“What if I don’t want to be a part of it at all?”

He laughed at her soft words. “No. It’s too late to run away. You suspect too much. And there is Boromir. You will help me repair the damage your little outburst has done, won’t you?”

Alura swallowed and pushed his hand away from her shoulder, shaking her head. She just didn’t know how to answer him wisely. “What do you want from me?”

“Tonight I want your obedience as proof. It can be pleasurable for you.”

She turned her head from him, glancing at Éomer, looking for aid where there was none. He wore a smirk that said he would not protect her. “I can’t…I can’t do this. You’re asking me to give myself over to your lusts…” She shook her head.

“Your ideals will change with time,” Faramir responded firmly. Alura raised her eyes to him and glared as he laid his wine on a nearby table. Returning to her quickly, he smiled, reaching for her shoulders, jerking her into his arms, fending off her struggles. “Many things will change with time. They merely require training.”

“Éomer!” she hissed as Faramir laughed, running one hand down her body and back up, reaching for the ties at the front of her dress. “How can you watch this happen?”

She heard him stand and fervently hoped he would come to her rescue. Faramir crushed her to him as he bit at her throat, giving her an ample view of her Éomer’s approach. He was undoing his belt and a wave of sickness thrilled through her. “Oh, I shall do more than watch, Alura. You have insulted our host and therefore it comes to me to reprimand you.”

“Get off it, Éomer!” she growled maliciously, slamming her hands into Faramir as hard as she could. “Say what it truly is! You’re not here to reprimand, you’re here to take!”

He laughed and doubled the leather strap in his hand, then stood in wait. “I am here to make sure you learn your place in this. I’ll not let our plans fall to ruin because of you.”

Faramir jerked her dress down before she could stop it and filled with desperation, Alura lashed out, trying to throw herself out of his arms. “Bitch!” he hissed, falling off balance and nearly hitting the floor. He remained steady, however, and drew back his hand, slamming it into her cheek. Alura fell back a few steps from the impact. He caught her quickly and forced her chest to his, taking her wrists and wrapping them around his waist so that she was hugging him. Her cheek against his shoulder, she opened her eyes and tried to pull back, but was distracted when Éomer’s belt hit her naked skin. She groaned in pain, tears stinging her eyes. “Again,” Faramir ordered harshly, holding her arms in place at his hips.

Éomer hit her again and she couldn’t withhold a whimper. “Stop this,” she hissed in Faramir’s ear. He paid her no mind, ordering Éomer to act again. A third lash brought the tears from the edge of her eyes. Éomer was not gentle at all and Faramir seemed keen on her suffering now that she had refused him. After a total of ten lashings she found her energy spent. Her cheeks were wet and her frame shaking as she rested against Faramir, unable to think beyond the pain.

The Captain of Gondor drew her away and looked into her face, still helping to support her shaky stance. He darted a glance over her shoulder. “Is she bleeding?” There was no verbal reply, but she could guess the answer. Faramir pet her hair softly, but continued to address Éomer. “You’ll want to wipe it, then or something.”

There was a rustle and then a soft flop that suggested clothing hitting the floor. “I’ll not mind her blood on me.”

“What?” she said in a hoarse voice she could barely bring volume to. She had not remembered screaming, but she was sure her ragged breathing had dried her throat well enough.

Faramir tucked her hair behind her ear, looking down into her face. “There is more to come. You may choose how painful it is by how willing you are to lay down and obey.”

A few more tears streamed from her eyes as she glared at him. He smirked at her anger, caressing her cheek as Éomer came to stand behind her. He drew her hair off her back, smoothing the long tresses over one shoulder before his warm chest molded to her. She could feel he wore no shirt and as he smoothed her skirt down her hips, felt his rough pants against her naked skin. Pressing his hand against her shoulder, he jerked her back into him and leaned down, saying into her ear, “I have no interest in pleasing you, Alura. You are nothing now but a servant I must punish. Do not expect me to do anything to make this feel good.”

“So cold, Éomer?” Faramir chided, undoing his shirt and letting it drop to the floor.

As Alura tried to bolt from his arms, Éomer caged her with his and laughed. “Just honest, Faramir. I just want my kinswoman to remember who will be king when Théoden dies. If I must fuck some sense into her, so be it.”

“I hate you,” Alura breathed, feeling nauseated by his coldness.

The Captain of Gondor shared a smirk with Éomer over her shoulder, then reached out, cupping a hand over her naked breast. His fingers smoothed around her nipple as Éomer forced her to arch, sending painful thrills through her wounded flesh. “You won’t hate us forever, I think. And if you do, I’m sorry.” He leaned in, pressing his mouth along her cheek, darting his tongue against her sweat-moistened flesh. “But you will learn to obey.”

She jerked away and tried to win free of Éomer’s hold, but he was very strong and she could not break away. “Hush, Alura,” he commanded low as he held her for Faramir’s pleasure. The red-haired Captain of Gondor trailed his lips down her throat slowly, nipping her flesh as he went, sending chills through her system. His hand went to her breast and toyed with her skin as he took his time tasting her. Her arms were held tightly back and she groaned at the pain, seeking a way to stop this. Seeing no other avenue, she raised her foot and aimed for Faramir as he kissed her shoulder, nailing him in the hip. He fell back away from her and glared while Éomer snickered. “Trouble, Faramir?”

Standing, he shook his head and grabbed for his wine, taking another sip. “No more trouble than I had taming my horse last summer.” He smirked as he said this, then splashed the contents of his wine in her face. Alura closed her eyes and turned her face, but the red liquid was all over her, dripping down her and wetting her hair.

Faramir smiled and bent down, smoothing his tongue along her belly, licking the sweet red liquid off her skin. He hummed in appreciation as he ascended to one of her breasts, lapping at her flesh. “Bring her to the bed,” he breathed hazily when he stood, admiring her nudity openly. He was ready, she could see, and felt disgusted by the vision of his pleasure in doing this.

Éomer tightened his hold around her and pushed her forward. She dug her feet into the carpet desperately, but it didn’t stop him. He forced her forward through his sheer strength and before she could stop it, she tumbled forward onto the mattress. Getting up on her hands and knees, she tried to crawl to the other side of the bed to escape. Éomer climbed onto the bed behind her, grabbing for her ankle and jerking her back just as Faramir came to the bed from the side she was seeking to escape through. “You’re embarrassing yourself, cousin,” Éomer breathed, forcing her to lie down on her side, her back against him. He jerked her wrists back and held them tightly.

Sinking down before her, Faramir sat and smiled, brushing her hair behind her ear as his eyes feasted on her flesh. “Just relax, love. It will be done before you know it.”

“Go to hell,” Alura hissed, groaning as Éomer held her head down to the pillow.

Faramir laughed and pinched her nipple roughly, his eyes glittering at her whimpers. He looked over at his accomplice in this. “Do as you see fit with her.”

“That I shall,” Éomer said roughly. Alura tore her hands away as soon as he let go, but he acted too swiftly to give her a chance to get away. His rough hand pressed against her shoulder, forcing her to her belly and she felt him get up to lie on her.

“Don’t do this,” she breathed, squirming as he parted her thighs.

He paid no attention, inserting his fingers into her heat and rubbing her hard, probing inside of her, seeking for wetness. She moaned at the intrusion, closing her eyes as he molested her. Faramir brushed her hair back and pet her forehead softly. Then suddenly Éomer’s fingers were gone. She listened as he opened his pants and prepared herself for what was going to happen. As he leaned over her, she felt his hands smooth along her backside, parting the flesh, and alarms went off inside her. Her struggles became more violent, but Faramir held her shoulders pinned to the bed as Éomer sank down into her. “I can’t have you pregnant with my baby,” he hissed at her whimper of protest. Again tears stung at her eyes as pain coursed through her. She couldn’t help crying as he pulled back, then plunged forward into her again hard. She wanted to scream.

His voice broke the silence with his physical pleasure as he set a quick, painful rhythm that forced her whimpers past her lips. His body was heavy and moist against hers and his hot breath massaged her back. Faramir retreated from the assault as Éomer braced himself with his arms on either side of hers, his mouth on her shoulder licking skin and tasting her salt. Each thrust sent her down into the mattress, and each shove made her cry out in agony. He had not been lying. He was not going to make this easy or pleasurable. She could only take solace in a quick finish, for he seemed bent on swift gratification in how fast and hard he shoved his hips into her.

But he stopped and she shivered at the pause, feeling his fingers snake into her hair. He forced her head back down to the pillow and growled in her ear, “Do you like this, Alura? Do you like being fucked like a whore on the street? How often will I have to do this before you obey my wishes?” He accented his anger by forcing himself deep inside of her, then stopped again. “Don’t make me do this again. Or next time it will be worse.”

Nauseated, she could not reply, nor did he expect her to it seemed, for he began his terrible punishment anew with a fervent drive for hurting her. What could be worse than this? She did not think she wanted to know. Her eyelids fluttered shut and she moaned hard as he nailed into her again and again. And then suddenly it was over. He pulled himself out of her and she groaned hoarsely at the act, but did not move. She couldn’t. Her body felt as heavy as the whole of the citadel itself. Keeping her eyes shut did not stall her tears. They fell freely and she could not bring herself to care.

Éomer stood up and Alura listened as he dressed. He said nothing as he departed and she could not bring herself to see if he gave her a second glance. He was beyond redemption in her eyes. A breath reminded her that this was not over yet, however. Faramir sighed softly, taking her by the shoulder and laying her on her back. Lying down at her side, he gathered her to him with one arm as the other parted her thighs. “Please,” she whispered, unable to bring her voice any higher than that. “Don’t…”

“Quiet,” he said in a hard, low tone as he ran his hand along her belly. He reached up and brushed sticky strands of her hair from her almost feverish forehead, the cupped her cheek and moved his mouth over hers. He parted her lips with ease and plunged his tongue against hers forcefully. She did not fight back, knowing it would do no good. Exhaustion reached every inch of her body. Faramir was slow in his plunder and she was partly grateful and partly afraid as well. He stole the very breath from her until she whimpered, and when he finally let go he nuzzled against her. “Don’t you want to be treated well, Alura?”

She would have laughed bitterly if she had the strength, but she didn’t. “Of course,” she breathed, reaching up to wipe her wet cheeks.

He kissed her forehead and moved to lie over her, hovering just above her entrance. “I want to treat you well. Do you believe that?”

Her dark eyes pierced him with her hate as she replied, “No.”

“You will someday,” he said with a soft smile, then hugged her into his body. Alura turned her head away from him and he used that to further his own desire, kissing her cheek and throat fervently as he pinned her legs with his own. She felt his hardness begin to penetrate her and groaned in dread as he sank down. He was slow, taking every bit of pleasure from the act he could get; rubbing his hand along her sweat-slick hip as he pushed in as far as he could go. She moaned and tightened her fists along the sheets, wanting him to end this quickly and fearing he would do the opposite.

He began a teasing rhythm and groaned a husky few words of lust into her ear as he moved, watching her face as he did so. He told her she was beautiful and it made her sick to hear it. The backs of his fingers caressed her cheek and she turned away from it, but he did not care. He was determined to make this a gentle event, for what reason she could not fathom. But it made her ill to hear him whisper of his wants, to have him pretend this was a good thing between them. Faramir laid kisses along her shoulders and breasts, taking delight in easing his hips into her own and hearing her moans and whimpers.

Soon his forehead fell to her shoulder and she swallowed, knowing it would be over soon. His movements were becoming more frequent, more forceful and less controlled. He groaned hard against her skin, shoving hard enough to make her cry out, then spilled into her at the sound of her pain. Alura shivered as she laid there, her eyes closed and her heart racing. He remained on top of her for a long time catching his breath, then moved slowly off of her to the mattress. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he kissed her shoulder and breathed, “Rest well, love. You’re redeemed. Consider what it would be to remain that way as you rest. I do not want you to suffer anymore.”

Alura doubted that, but said nothing, grateful for the chance to sleep. She would consider nothing now except finding bliss away from reality.

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More Eomer wonkiness of a serious nature. :O All will be answered soon...just bear with it. I know I should have been a bit more subtle...*sigh*