Storm Across the Sea

Storm Across the Sea

by Rosums

EMAIL: rosiekinns@aol.com

DISCLAIMER: I am not J.R.R. Tolkien. I do not claim to be the legal owner of these characters/places/plots mentioned. In fact, I am quite certain that if Tolkien could, he would leap from the ground at this moment, and poke my eyes out for mangling his genius.

WARNINGS: Explicit sex; AU; spoilers for TTT and ROTK.

PAIRING: Eowyn/Aragorn

NOTE: // Indicates the text of J.R.R. Tolkien.

THANK YOU TO: DiableRouge for thoroughly editing this piece of junk! Tis vastly improved thanks to her influence.

***

Chapter One

***

//Thus Aragorn for the first time in the full light of the day beheld Eowyn, Lady of Rohan, and thought her fair, fair and cold, like a morning of pale spring that is not yet come to womanhood. And she now was suddenly aware of him: tall heir of kings, wise with many winters, gray cloaked, hiding a power that yet she felt. For a moment still as stone she stood, then turning swiftly she was gone.//


***
The sky settled into twilight, and the forest was hushed by the velvety hues of night. I guided my horse, Star Dove, at a steady trot down the familiar trail to what I had long called my Forest Sanctuary. A circular clearing amidst the woods, it seemed a world of its own. There was a single pool of a perfect blue-green in the center. Here I would sit beneath the shadows of the trees, gaze across the shining water, and free my mind. Such a storm raged in me now, that I doubted even a thousand years of ‘thinking’ would calm it.

Star Dove was acting peculiar that evening, shying from little things; birds, the snap of a twig, the shudder of leaves. This wasn’t the first time he had acted this way. With every ride I brought him on lately, his tension grew more frequent, more intense. I knew animals were more intuitive, and could sense the growing shadow with a vigor that humans lacked.

I arrived at my sanctuary, with the dark, rippling pool accompanied by the melody of swaying trees. I dismounted, and Star Dove wandered away, a bit unsteadily, to graze. I went to the pools edge and gazed into it’s obscure, glassy depths. Bending down to stroke the surface, it stirred at my touch. Though I was not dressed for swimming, the desire suddenly clutched me to step into that perfect, azure water, and have it engulf me.

Before rationality had chance to debate it, I lifted my skirts, and stepped off the shore. The cool water felt refreshing to my feet, numbing their weariness immediately. I waded deeper, closing my eyes and breathing in. I opened one eye, worried that someone was watching me. I could feel it. But the fear dissolved when my eyes met only with the serenity of my surroundings.

I knelt down, and propelled myself gently into the deeper end of the pool. But, though I knew it not, someone was watching me, as I slowly drifted back and forth beneath the twilit sky. He was hidden by the gray-green shadows of the wood.

I lay back, and the water blocked my hearing. When I arose again, a sudden cool breeze was shivering about the grove, and all of the enormous trees seemed, on cue, to rustle between it. I felt uneasiness grapple me. I scanned my surroundings with a stern, narrow eyed attention, but saw nothing.

Eventually, I closed my eyes, and laid back, feeling my long, uncombed hair be pulled gently back by the current. My eyelids squeezed shut tighter as I found myself thinking of him. If anyone knew my thoughts, they would surely decide that the curse of infatuation had clearly broken my once stern, proper mind set to splinters. I tried to fight away my thoughts of him, but it was futile. Such romantic feelings had been repressed for years, but now there was no denying it; I was possessed by idealistic, girlish dreams of romance. I wanted to know what the love of a man felt like, and not just any man, but him; Aragorn. Were the steamy details of erotic novels true? The thought of it used to disgust me, but now I had an ache in me, an emptiness that had always been a part of me, that his light had illuminated.

It wasn’t just his appearance. I hadn’t even noticed him at first-- not until I had felt his gaze on me. Then I had been mesmerized by his features; his stormy blue-green eyes, his strong, masculine jaw. He walked with hushed confidence and skill, a ranger always, and a king at heart. But the way he had looked at me, the way his eyes were set, the very greatness of him--how could I have overlooked it?

I sat back up, and looked down at my own reflection in the water. I’d been told of my fairness. My long blonde hair accentuated my dark green eyes, and ran in waves past my waist. I had inherited the graceful limbs and slender curves of my mother, and the aristocratic cheekbones of my father. But it meant little to me. If anything, it backed me more into my cage.

I looked up, and was about to swim across the pool again, when I heard the distinct sound of footsteps. I rose to my feet slowly, my eyes fixed toward the source of the sound. The water trickled noisily from my hair, and I gathered it hastily into my hands and wrung it out, concentrating on the sound of the approaching intruder.

I stepped onto the shore, padded quietly to Star Dove, and drew from his saddle my sword. Just as I did so, a shadow pooled above me. Instinctively as lightning stabs metal, I whirled around with an impulsive cry of battle, sword drawn and ready to thwart whatever ‘it’ was dead in it’s tracks. I felt my hair whip my assailant, followed by the echoing clang of metal. Then my eyes met those of my rival, and I froze. My sword had clattered with that of Aragorns, and he regarded me with muted alarm. I pursed my lips and felt my blood pang cold, as I backed up slowly, not lowering my sword.

“Lady Eowyn, I did not know you were so keen with a sword...otherwise, I would have taken better care,” Aragorn remarked, beginning to smirk. My breath returned to me, and the sword slipped from my hand. My sopping wet jungle of hair had obviously slapped him across the face. I could feel my cheeks begin to flush with horror.

“I’m quite sorry...I did not know it was you,” I said as steadily as I could manage. His eyes were all over me, seeing me, taking me in, and I remembered with horror that I was soaking wet. I crossed my arms over my chest, and remained perfectly upright, looking upon Aragorn pleasantly, careful not to let my eyes betray me. He smiled at me then, a curious smile, and his eyes were on my own. It must have been three seconds that his gaze penetrated mine, making my heart quicken, my insides coil in apprehension, but it seemed much longer.

“I am no enemy,” he finally said. Still, his eyes danced to an entirely different melody. I wondered if he looked at every woman like that, if his exotic eyes contained an instrument of seduction that he conjured up at will, and often. If that slight, dare I say playful, smirk, crossed his lips for me alone, a secret that could be acquired only by taste...

“Clearly not,” I replied at length, bending down quickly to retrieve her sword, and return it to its sheath. He was ever silent, watching my every movement. I kept my hands clenched about Star Doves reigns, not daring to face him, but wanting desperately to soothe the tension. “May I ask why you come here?” I began casually, still turned away. “Are you not leaving for Helms Deep?”

“No...not all of the warriors are prepared, and further council is being held. I wanted to become acquainted with this land. And not even it is safe, certainly not to wander alone in at night,” he hinted. I closed my eyes at that, trembling mysteriously. Then, slowly, I turned to face him.

“I know this. Nowhere is safe from the darkness...”

“Yet still you tempt fate?” He looked at me seriously, his eyes burning still into mine. All the different interpretations of that question rolled across my mind swiftly, a passing rain of romantic thoughts, until reality loomed again.

“I tempt nothing,” I said confidently. “Do not worry for me, for I have long known how to care for myself.”

“That I do not doubt,” he replied, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. I blinked in confusion, uncertain if he was simply chiding me, or...no. It seemed perfectly clear at that moment; I was merely just another woman who sat around and admired him stupidly, never to have him. I turned away, and went to mount my horse. I pursed my lips, and looked back at him rather fiercely.

“I am sorry I have hindered you, lord,” I said formally. I climbed upon Star Dove’s back, and looked down at Aragorn. Again, my eyes met his, and again the desire welled up inside me. I reverted my gaze to the ground, and hastily took up the reigns. But Star Dove would not budge. His head was bowed, and he seemed to be trembling. He had acted like this before, so I paid it no real mind.

“Farewell for now,” I said, and batted my heels to ride away. Still, Star Dove ignored me, and his quaking grew more intense.

“Get off that horse, Eowyn,” Aragorn said slowly, looking at him with immense uneasiness. The way he said it frightened and exited me. I was slowly preparing to dismount, when Star Dove neighed with a terrible shriek, and reared up violently. I held on tightly, determined not to fall off, even if it meant being swept off to the fires of Mordor by the insane beast.

Aragorn pulled Star Dove down by his reigns, and I took this as heed to quickly get off, but as I did, I was bucked so wildly that I was flung to the ground. Star Dove immediately tore into a desperate gallop, and disappeared into the wood. I scrambled to my feet, looking wildly around for my horse. I sighed angrily when I realized he had gone.

Aragorn began to walk quickly towards me. Alarmed and suddenly painfully self conscious, I furiously brushed the leaves and dirt off my already sopping wet white gown. I could feel earth smeared across my face, and that my lower lip had been split. Though my hands trembled, I clasped them together tightly, and looked upon him unsteadily.

“I am not hurt,” I affirmed. “Star Dove has tossed me many times, but not like that...” I looked into the woods, lightly biting my lip, then flinching from the pain. I could feel his eyes on me again. I slowly turned to face him again.

“It is all very troubling,” he murmured, seemingly more to himself. Then he lifted his chin and looked upon me again, as though I were a riddle that he alone could solve. He was interested in me, but in what way? I furrowed her brows at him.

“What?” I asked, starting to smile. He said nothing; he didn’t even move. I was torn; I had no experience with men, and never before had I been so interested in one--what was he trying to tell me? I tensed, and looked upon him with anxious eyes. He stood still, gazing at me, and then walked forward slowly as though I would bolt at any moment. My heart pounded as he drew near, but his eyes were not even fixed on mine, but lower, at my mouth. My mind went vacant as he stood before me, and more vacant still when he touched his index finger not on, but torturously close to my lower lip.

“Are certain you are not hurt at all?” he asked softly, slowly meeting my eyes. I felt herself dissolve in such a way I had never before experienced, and the now familiar feeling of longing swallowed me, ached in me. He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen--looking upon me with his penetrating eyes, the hollows of his cheeks defined by the growing darkness. I blinked, and shook my head quickly.

“N...no, perhaps a little shaken, but...I am not broken.” He said nothing for a moment. I felt my eyes grow wide and round as they remained locked with his calm ones. He suddenly took my hand, gently, soothingly, and led me down a trail.

“My horse is waiting...I will bring you back...” I nodded faintly. My feet carried me behind him. If I still had had my wits about me, I would at least have put up a bit of a fight on the matter.

He mounted first, and helped me up behind him, seeming all too careful to only take my arms, not to meet my eyes. I timidly put my arms about him, running my hands slowly up his shoulders, quickly locking them there when I felt his immediate tension at my touch. I stayed still, restraining myself from getting any more grabby, and waited as he spurred his horse to a gallop.

Such a thing, I had thought, would have been my fantasy come true...but this was no fantasy. I felt a constant weight of anxiety that I had never before experienced, and it kept me pinned irritatingly grounded to reality. My fretting intensified when truly odd thoughts sprang, quite rudely, to my mind. As I clung to him, my legs swaying and lightly meeting his, his body and mine moving in unison from the jolt of the horse ride, I felt the urge to lay my head on his shoulder and breath him in, so I could never forget any aspect of the experience for as long as I lived...or to perhaps kiss his head, so lightly, so briefly, that he would not even feel it. Instead, I found myself ever tense, afraid to even move, lest my actions be misconstrued. Still, when we reached Rohan, I felt disappointed that our time together was nearly over.

Within the gates he stopped and took my hands and helped me down, as though I were fragile--a rose that would bend and break if one was not careful. No man had ever treated me so kindly. Because I had spent my childhood fighting with boys, they were now too intimidated to think of me as a woman, let alone court me or even treat me with any sort of courtesy.

“Go inside, before you catch your death...” Aragorn said softly, still holding my hands. I despaired at having to let go. I nodded, looking at him a long while before lowering my eyes.

“Thank you, I will.” And there I turned and trotted inside, and again, I felt his eyes on me.

***
I watched grimly as the army readied to depart for Helms Deep. Unintentionally, my gaze kept straying to Aragorn. Before he departed, he looked at me and he paused in seeming reverence. I met his eyes, and he briskly looked away and was gone. When the men faded from view, I looked down, and reentered the kingdom.

The next few nights were restless ones. My mind kept drifting back to Helms Deep, where those I loved fought to the death to save us all. So cruel that I had to stay behind. I was forced to contain the fire in me that begged to fight, to help demolish the evil which had nearly destroyed my uncle, that was trying to destroy Middle Earth. It was a personal matter. And with every departure of warriors that I could only watch, I felt the fire in me rage more fervidly. I would not be able to restrain it much longer.

The night the men returned, I was out front, awaiting their arrival. With relief, my eyes found my brother, my uncle, and finally, Aragorn. I watched him as he walked inside, his eyes ever passionately tangent with thoughts. My own were that of amazement of the palpable, glorious miracle it seemed that he was real. The lethal in obscurity he possessed in his quiet, majestic step. His broad hands, with long, skilled fingers that grazed against each other as he walked. Hands that were raw and browned from many battles and years of tracking through the wild.

Our eyes only met once, where he quickly looked down. An uneasiness settled heavily upon me.

Then he announced that he would be travelling The Paths of the Dead.

I could not suppress the despair that bolted through me at those words. I tried vainly to convince him otherwise, not concerned if I appeared irrational to the os, os, or even to him. “You can’t,” I pleaded. “It is far too dangerous.” Foolish of me to think that anything I said would sway him.

Later that night, as he stood upon the balcony, I came from behind him. In front of the others, he naturally refused to be persuaded. But I decided that alone, it may be different.

“You confuse me, Aragorn,” I began softly. “By treading that path, you are seeking certain death. You know this, but...” I struggled to keep emotion out of my voice. “...but you refuse to change your course...”

“Death is not what I seek, nor what I will find,” he responded in a murmur. I closed my eyes, feeling the burn of tears swell. Why was he not listening to me?

“You do not understand. You ignore me. Am I just a simple woman, hysterical over the dangers of war?” I demanded, storming to his side. I looked at hierciercingly.

“No,” he replied, turning to face me. I caught a change in his face when he looked at me, and lowered my brows. He gazed at me in distant wonder, searching my face. I but my lip, feeling my muscles tense, and my heart quicken.

“Your answers are always so plain,” I began quietly. I paused, watching his face never falter, watching his eyes never become affected by my words. Impatience bit hard on my nerves. “You say, ’Yes, no, don’t worry, you are wrong, I am right’...no one has survived that path!” I suddenly near raged. Then he turned, pressing his index finger swiftly against my mouth. I felt a rush of alarm at his touch, and gazed at him wide eyed, truly silenced.

“Shhh,” he hissed, and slowly drew his finger away. “There is nothing you can do or say to change my mind. It was decided long ago.” As I expected. I felt the tears spill over my eyes.

“Then let me go with you...” I whispered.

“No...absolutely not,” he replied fiercely. I shrank back, initially in hurt which swiftly boiled to anger.

“Am I always to be left behind? Because I am a woman...am I therefore weak?” I demanded.

“No, you are not at all weak,” he replied quickly, with such assurance, that I felt strangely and deeply touched. Looking eagerly into his eyes, I stepped closer.

“Then why?” He hesitated, looking into my eyes, seeming to be deep in reckoning. With my gaze, I begged him to reconsider. Then he blinked and sighed, crossing his arms.

“You have no duty in the South,” he said resolutely. My gaze dropped to the ground, focusing on his feet. Slowly I looked up, meeting his eyes again.

“But I do,” I began softly. “Don’t you see?” I stepped towards him gently, while slowly, unable to resist it, I curved my hand against his cheek. Running my fingers desperately lightly against his skin, I whispered, “Don’t you see...” I met his eyes for a long moment, and they pleaded to me, tumultuous with sadness.

“I do...” he murmured. Then he pressed his hands to my face, and drew me closer. I sank my hands against his shoulders and closed my eyes, as his lips caressed mine in a gentle kiss. Beyond mind or body now, I gently pressed my lips against his, running my hands gingerly up his neck to hold his face. The moment lingered gloriously. When we parted, I slowly opened my eyes. He still held my face, and gazed at me with such tenderness, I felt fainter every moment.

“And that is why you cannot come with me,” he murmured, curving his thumbs against my cheeks. Then, dropping his hands, he stepped back. With one final look at me, he turned, and went back inside. I whirled around to watch him, my breath coming fast and faintly. I closed my eyes and stepped back, collapsing against the railing in a dizzying state of bliss. And there I stayed, for what felt like hundreds of years, as my thoughts swam and sparkled against each other.

***

I did not see Aragorn again that night, or the next day, which was undoubtedly for the better. Yet, the moment that his lips touched mine, I was forever changed. And into war I went, disguised as a soldier.

What came to pass is too blurred, too terrifying to ever re account in detail. My uncle dead at my feet, taken away from me, from his people, forever...and that Nazgul king, hovering close, sneering at me with victory. I took up my sword...

No, you are not at all weak...

...and that is why you ot cot come with me.

I glared into the beasts seething eyes, and thrust my sword. What came next happened too swiftly, too violently. But the beast fell, and so did I.

Shadow echoed around me; in my unconsciousness, I saw the eye of Sauron. He was trying to claim my very soul from my body, yet where my body had gone, I did not know. I was locked in a void, without light, without any sound save the steady, torturous growl of the dark lord. All that my mind could comprehend was that this was death. Sauron had won, and my slaying of the beasts were of no consequence. This was my afterlife.

But it wasn’t always that terrible eye that tormented me. For in a haze of shadows, I saw my king, laying dead upon the ground; I saw Eomer, stabbed, pierced with arrows, upon a cold gray earth; and I saw Aragorn. I saw him cast along a misty, swampy ground, slain, turned to nothing but scattered bones, tumbling along the Paths of the Dead. I saw their torment, and it became my own.

Years seemed to pass. Then, I felt my lips moving, and the warm, tender touch of a hand on my cheek. I floated up from the darkness, smelling a strong, sweet scent. I felt myself breathing.

“Awake, Eowyn,” a familiar voice whispered into my ear, and I stirred slightly in response. Before I opened my eyes, familiar lips kissed my forehead, and familiar hands took mine, setting them gently into someone else's. As I opened my eyes to the world, I saw Aragorn’s back disappear from the doorway before meeting Eomer's grateful face.

“I live...” I murmured. He kissed my hands, and smiled down at me.

“You do,” he affirmed softly.

It wasn’t until that night that I saw Aragorn again. I was in my room, gazing out the window in wonder, growing accustomed again to the miracle of life, when I caught his voice. It rose and fell as commandingly as fire, with the same mysteriousness.

I stepped quietly from my bed, crept downstairs, around the corner, and listened. I had become quite an expert at ‘eaves dropping’; flattening my body against a wall, keeping my breathing shallow and my mouth soundless. And the news, as I had come to expect, was not joyful--he was, of course, leaving for war.

His companion left. I watched Aragorn as he paced the hall, seemingly immersed in plaguing thought, his hair trailing past his eyes as he moved. My fears had been denied. He stood before me, wonderful and breathing...alive.

I emerged from the shadows quietly, carefully. He caught my movement, and turned to face me, immediately becoming still when his eyes met mine. I paused, my heart quickening. Then, with great effort, I willed my feet to move forward, and stop before him, steadily. I clasped my hands, and looked up at him ardently. He gazed back at me, reflectively almost.

“Lady Eowyn,” he murmured. I pursed my lips tightly. My feelings for him were infinitely stronger now. They coursed through me passionately, my thoughts smoldering together, too enrapturing to comprehend. I loved him completely, crushingly...I felt my heart would break. When I blinked, a tear slipped from my eye.

“I was certain that you were dead,” I murmured. He smiled at me faintly, and stepped closer.

“I told you that wouldn’t be so,” he quietly replied. I smiled back gratefully, more tears streaming from my eyes.

“But you leave again...” I trailed off. Sadness captured me cruelly, and my lips trembled with my next words: “You know I love you.” I averted my gaze to the floor, and closed my eyes tightly. “I cannot change that I do. I cannot wield my desire into anything else. I am powerless. You have broken me...” My voice went into a hush at that last sentence. “And I need to know...if you at all feel...the same way...” I kept my head bowed, the silence unbearable.

“Eowyn,” he said gently. “Look at me...” I slowly opened my eyes and lifted my chin. His eyes were on mine piercingly. “Yes,” he murmured. “You know I do...but it cannot be.” I flinched, stepping back. My eyes strayed down to the jewel at his neck.

“Because of that,” I said, far more bitterly than I had wanted. He closed his eyes, and sharply exhaled.

“Yes,” he faintly answered. I gazed at him, and stepped closer once again.

“Do not deny me this chance, Aragorn,” I said, achingly softly. “This chance to show you how desperately I love you...” I wasn’t even entirely sure what I meant by that, and nor was he, judging by his expression of utter disbelief and confusion.

“There is nothing I can do,” he replied carefully. “For Eowyn, I leave at daybreak for war. This is not the time nor the --” I swiftly hushed him, just as he had hushed me all those nights before, pressing my finger against his mouth. My eyes searched madly into his.

“Now you are the one who is talking too much,” I murmured, and lowered my hand. He looked at me hard, questioningly.

“What you seem to ask of me...I could never. I would never. I will not,” he said viciously. I narrowed my eyes, feeling anger swell beneath my skin.

“What do you think I ask?” His stare was unyieldingly hard. “All I ask is for you to give me a chance!” I fumed, and my words echoed off the walls. I shook my head slowly. “No,” I hissed. “I see I have greatly misperceived you. And I do not know whether to feel bitter or blessed.” I paused, watching his eyes squint in confusion. “Good bye Aragorn,” I murmured, looking into his eyes one last lingering moment, before I turned, and walked away. If his eyes were on me, I had chosen not to notice.

***

I marched back to my room, emotionless, composed, until I shut the door quietly behind me. There I collapsed against it, hot tears flooding my eyes. I could not fight it. Locking the door furiously behind me, I crumpled to the ground. Curling my hands against my face, a surge of repressed sobs began to pulse deep in my center. I let them out in long, broken whimpers, afraid someone would hear. For so long I was slumped there, wailing. Then, a strange anger settled over me. I slowly raised my head.

…Damn it all! I thought, standing abruptly. I scanned the room, which had been decorated with my possessions. I was swept into a moment of nostalgia. The bed was not mine, but I remembered having slept on it one er aer afternoon, when I was barely twelve years old. I closed my eyes, and could envision the experience clearly, from the sun’s shadows slinking across the maroon carpet, to the curtains slightly parted, show casing the sunset to my young, sinless eyes. Now the room was dimly lit by a few scattered candles, and immeasurably silent. The curtains were tightly closed; no moonlight broke through.

I stalked madly to the mirror, and glared viciously at my reflection. I felt that I hated myself at that moment. My eyes and cheeks were red from my tears, and my mouth was contorted into a trembling, despondent sneer. I felt an explosive rush of anger, and jerked a hair brush off the dresser and screamed, throwing it at the mirror with all of my rage. I watched as my reflection turned to splinters, as the glass shattered, and flew into a shower of wild shards. I stood staring at the mess, breathing hard, then suddenly slapped my hand to my mouth in horror. I closed my eyes and bowed my head, the storm of thoughts in my mind too dizzying to grasp.

“How could I be so foolish...?” I murmured. Turning slowly, I looked long upon the bed. It beckoned me. I felt a sense of closure at the thought of sleep. I crawled onto it, curling upon the slick, soft red blanket, laying my head gently upon the stark white pillows. As I calmed, a part of me that had begun as a distant throb was threatening to consume all thought; a part that wanted desperately to find Aragorn, to beg for his forgiveness, to make peace, for I felt I couldn’t bare everything to end in such a sullied state. But I could not will myself to move.

Several minutes, that seemed far longer, plodded on silently. I closed my eyes and decided to sleep, when there came a knock on the door. So faint was it at first, that I thought I had imagined it. I slowly sat up, my eyes wide, my whole body tense. My heart nearly stopped as I waited for another...and it came, louder than the first. I tore from my bed, and raced clumsily to the door to unlock it. I breathed in deeply, feeling the incessant thump of my heart quicken. Calm down, I told myself. I leant my head against the door, and hesitated.

“...Who is it?” I finally asked. Silence.

“May I come in...” It was Aragorn. He spoke so quietly, I could barely recognize him. I couldn’t place an exact emotion to his voice, but it was certainly not anger. Though my fantasies yearned for more, I knew that he was here only to make peace with me. Still, my sight felt blurry, and my hands shook as I opened the door. I met his eyes immediately; his were strikingly different, burning, a look I had never before seen in him. It sent a lovely tremor through my body. I imagined it was the same look he had before plunging into battle; determined, and untamed…utterly raw.

He quickly entered, shutting the door behind him, and locking it. Disbelief jolted through me, but I didn’t have a moment to gather my thoughts, for he turned, still giving me that electrifying look. He was utterly still.

“Aragorn--” I began.

“Shhh,” he interrupted in a hiss, stepping closer and taking my face in his hands. I gazed up at him, our faces so close, as he swept his fingers gently across my brow. He looked at me long, boring into me with his burning stare. His eyes fell downwards, to my mouth. Kiss me, I silently begged. But then I noticed him squint, and withdraw his fingers from my cheeks.

“…why do you hesitate?” I ventured in a rough whisper. His gaze returned to mine. He paused, falling into that familiar look of guilt he had worn downstairs. The resistance in me snapped, and anger possessed me once more. “I cannot bare your confusion any longer!” I cried. “You either want me, or yon’ton’t!” I tore away from him, and bolted to the door, but he caught my wrist fast.

“Eowyn--” he tried.

“No!” I screamed, desperately trying to tear myself free; but his hands only closed around me tighter.

“Eowyn,” he said, louder.

“DON’T!” I turned, and tried to pry his fingers off of me. All of str struggling...my heart hammered as I watched and felt his hand wind tighter around my wrist.

“Eowyn, stop!” he ordered, pulling me into his arms. I stared up at him, my anger dissolving into something else... His gaze was smoldering.

“I do want you,” he growled, and before I could hardly blink, he pulled me into a frenzied kiss. The tension in my body rushed away; all of my anger, all of my despair went into that kiss, the palpable lusciousness of his lips against mine. I grabbed his wrists, and ran my hands up his arms, around his body, pulling him closer.

His hands slipped down to grasp my upper arms, then down my side, holding fast about my waist. Every sweeping touch did not soothe my hunger, but only made it more furious. I whimpered, pulled at his shoulders to grind him closer, breathed in long, desperate draughts of him. When his tongue suddenly pressed imploringly against my closed lips, I immediately parted them, and his sudden smoldering entrance in my mouth thrilled me. He closed his hands over the back of my head, gently. Slowly, he delved deeper, as I clenched at his sides, thrust my tongue hotly against his, determined. I was pressed against the wall, feeling faint, as the reality of our embrace sunk in...

Not breaking the kiss, I pushed him insistently towards the bed, and back against it. I bent all my strength, clutching my hands around his shoulders, forcing him to lay back abruptly. Never letting go, I was pulled hurriedly on top of him. As I lay against his firm body, he touched my cheek, traced his fingers down and across my lower lip. His eyes were narrowed, searching mine. I slowly bent to kiss him, closing my eyes as we met. I relaxed against him, and ran my tongue along his closed lips. He invited me in slowly, tauntingly, moaning when I thrust completely into his mouth. A tremor of overwhelming excitement bolted through my body at that, and I kissed him harder. His hands glided down my back, grinding me closer. I kissed him hungrier, wanting to explore every wet, ardent contour of his mouth. I was wrapping my legs around his, spreading my fingers through his hair, down the beautiful curves of his face, of his arms. My hands snuck lower, driven by lust, when he parted from me abruptly, and held me still by my shoulders.

“Wait...wait, Eowyn,” he said breathlessly. I looked at him, shocked. He smiled slightly, his eyes partially lidded, and stirred sensuously. With one gentle curve of his hand, he touched the tightly drawn ribbon holding my hair up. Pulling it loose inch by inch, he released my hair in a gentle sweep about my shoulders, and down my back. I felt beautiful as he gathered my long bangs in his hands, drawing them behind my ears in admirable strokes. No words needed spoken; his eyes were ablaze with desire.

His hands slid firmly around my waist. Gingerly, he lifted me from him, and onto my back beside him. I watched with pulsing anticipation as he crawled above me, keeping one leg on either side of my body. Then he leant down, until his face was mere inches from mine. The blood thundered against my veins, from the quickening of my heart. My gaze centered on his piercing blue-green eyes, eyes that were never still, always beautiful, like the pool in the woods. And now, they looked deeply into my own, wanting me.

I reached up and pressed my hand against his hair, which hung now close to my cheeks. He kissed my mouth gently, stroking his finger tips along my cheeks, curving them down to softly tilt my chin back. I trembled and breathed harder as his lips left mine, and met my neck, immersing my skin with his soft, tender kisses. Then his hands snaked down my sides, pausing along the curves of my hips, my legs, and back up them again, sweeping against and caressing my thighs. My breathing grew shallow, and I closed my eyes. His touch was overwhelmingly real. His hands, that snuck upwards, causing me to gasp and quiver. He neared dangerously close to the aching place between my thighs, before deliberately regressing to my feet, sweeping his fingers lightly over my heels.

I flattened my hands against his cheeks, and, tilting my chin back, kissed him lightly, catching his lower lip softly between my teeth. When I slowly opened my eyes and caught his surprised gaze, I smiled feebly and murmured, ”I’ve longed to do that.” He smirked, and drew close to my ear, whispering, “I’ve longed also, Lady Eowyn…” I closed my eyes lightly and trembled.

“Show me, then,” I murmured. Slowly, one hand slipped from my ankle. I stilled in anticipation as he traveled up my leg, along my stomach, and up further, until he gently captured my breast in his hand through my gown. I placed my hand on his, as his eyes rolled slowly up to meet mine. Then I pulled him into a kiss. He responded vehemently, and it quickly became a fight for domination. A low growl of pleasure trembled deep in his throat when my hands stole beneath his shirt, grasping the taught muscles of his back in fervent strokes. He curled his hand around my breast tighter, drawing sensuous circles with his fingers against their peak. I hissed softly in response, my desire for him churning hotter. I reared up and pushed him off me and onto his back. He looked up at me in shock as I climbed on top of him, and began to hastily claw the straps of my gown off my shoulders.

“Wait,” he spoke softly, rising, forcing us both to our knees. I glared at him. “Tigress,” he murmured with a sly smile, curving his fingers beneath the flimsy white straps. “Will you permit me?” My heart began to palpitate, and I felt innocent and helpless again. I nodded, and covered his hands with mine, guiding them downward. He slowly trailed the gown off of me, pressing me back on the bed, where he slipped the white sheath down my legs, and over my feet.

He knelt at the end of the bed, and looked long at me. I imagined I saw the fire in his gaze rage torridly. Still, I was self conscious, and felt myself flush, especially as I watched his eyes linger in places of my body no man had ever seen. He sloped over me, taking his precious time. I closed my eyes and relaxed as his broad, strong hand trailed up my arm soothingly.

“I want you to ravish me, Aragorn,” I whispered absently.

“No,” he said, softly but firmly. “I plan to savor your every crevice.” I trembled at that, and slowly opened my eyes. He relaxed on top of me, and kissed me tenderly. I closed my arms around him, and began to guide off his shirt. The moment my fingers slid up his back, he sat up, pulling the clothing completely off himself. Then, slowly, he lay back down against me. My breathing became heavier as I felt his heat merge with my own. I closed my eyes as his hot, gifted mouth left my lips, and met my shoulder. Sighing, I drew my legs up the back of his thighs, and felt the foreign presence of his arousal harden more. In response, he kissed my neck, my throat, and down, to the curve of my breast. I gasped as his tongue circled against it. I lay my hands upon his back, stroking down it and back up, kneading my fingers into his hair.

Then his body began to digress. His mouth moved down my stomach, which I tightened painfully; he was kissing me so lightly, lingering over every pause he made. When his hands moved down ei sid side of my inner thigh, and his lips were right upon my pelvic bone, I felt an anticipation saturated in anxiety.

“What are you doing…” I whispered, barely audible amongst my breathlessness. I caught his gaze for a striking, motionless moment, where a sly glimmer dwindled. Then his eyes lowered, and he sank down, pressing his mouth against there. My body jolted in response. Amidst my disbelief, he held tighter to my legs, gently nudging them further apart. Then, his tongue grazed from his mouth, and began to circle against me, in slow, sensuous sweeps. I gasped, wondering why, with ange nge of horror, he would want to do that. But quickly I didn’t care; a diligent stirring of unrecognizable pleasure was centering there, and moving up.

He kissed me deeper, the glorious throbbing sensation pulsing harder. I bit my lips, and tightened the muscles of my legs, as my back arched and my head fell back. My skin was becoming uncomfortably hot, and my breathing shallow, but I was beyond worrying about it. I trembled violently every time I reminded myself that it was Aragorn doing this to me...I reached down, and spread my fingers into his hair to accentuate the reality.

I dn’tdn’t help it when the first long, low moan poured from my mouth. I gasped, my body beginning to writhe. Then it passed an invisible midpoint. All I wanted was release, and opened my mouth as more foreign cries tore from my throat. I clawed at the red blanket, tangled my hands into his hair. Every sound I made seemed to allure him further, and when his tongue flickered against apecipecially sensitive place, my hips bucked in response.

“There,” I gasped. He obeyed. “Yes...now faster,” I begged. He clenched his hands tighter around my thighs, slipping them down. It was too much. My words ceased, replaced by expanding moans. I was leaning my head way back, feeling so close... My quaking grew more intense, every cry doubling in size, every wave of pleasure hitting me harder. Suddenly, he pulled me to him, holding onto my trembling back. Then his hand nimbly took possession of my femininity with one skillful movement of his fingers. My eyes widened in shock, as he met my lips with his.

“Scream,” he urged in a murmur, “No one can hear now. Scream for me, Eowyn...” Though surprised, I could definitely not refuse. I was thrown into ecstasy at the stronger, deeper penetration of his fingers pulsing against me. The crushing waves of pleasure peaked, then fluttered, like a glorious meeting of jewelled light, capturing me into one still moment of bliss that coursed all through my body. I clawed at his shoulders, thrashed in his arms, as my loudest, longest cry echoed deep into the chasms of his mouth.

Here I was, for a wonderful, lingering moment. Then, gradually, the fluttering pulse of my peak dwindled. I fell into his arms, trembling, panting, until I finally caught my breath enough to return to myself. Then I slipped onto my back, feeling a warm, tingling satisfaction throughout my body. I closed my eyes, and breathed heavily. I felt him lean over me, stroking back my now dampened bangs, as I slowly met his gaze. He raised his brow and smirked at me. I felt myself flush heavily. I sat up, and pressed my mouth against his, and he caught the back of my head, pulling me closer. Then we withdrew, and I lay back again.

“Aragorn...I never knew that I could feel that way,” I eventually murmured. He chuckled gently, and leant close to my ear.

“And the night is still young,” he quietly responded, and my heart pounded at the thought of anything more intense than that. He glanced down at the broken glass littering the floor, then returned his eyes to mine.

“Do you do tho evo every woman?” I asked haughtily. He leant down close to me, tracing my jaw line lightly.

“No,” he said firmly, curving his hand against my cheek. “Only to those I love.” I became absolutely still. His words sank into my heart, and chilled my blood in a tremor. “Wha“What?” I asked softly, staring up at him with alarm.

“I love you, Eowyn...” I grabbed his face and kissed him hungrily.

“Say that again...” I whispered, holding him close to me, so his heavenly words would meet my ear directly.

“I love you...” He curved my hair away from my ear, stroking down my neck. I cupped his chin in my hands, and pressed my lips to his, dominating his mouth with a thrust of my tongue. He dissolved against me, and the kiss grew more passionate, our breathing raspier. My hands slid down the curve of his cheekbones, as his slowly snuck up my leg. With a growl, I grabbed him abruptly, pushed him on his back, and crawled on top of him. He looked up at me, seeming impressed. I bore my eyes into his. The tables had turned, and I was possessed by my power.

I ran my fingers over his naked chest, stopping to press my hand against his heart. I felt it quicken as I slowly curled my legs around his waist, and bent to kiss his mouth. As one of his hands curled into my hair, the other stroked over my head and down my spine, and I shuddered against him when he caressed the curve of my backside. Again, I felt the hot desire between my thighs ache, and, as if he could sense it, his fingers inched closer, finally meeting with it in one feather light stroke.

My lips trembled pad parted at his touch; I leant my head back slightly, wondering if I could survive another one of his ministrations. He curved two of his fingers against me, then digressed before pressing forward again, this time deeper. I closed my eyes at his gentle exploration, sighing as his fingers regressed and stroked down my thigh.

He paused and looked at me. He touched his fore finger to my lips, and I closed my eyes and kissed it, my hands reaching upward to hold still his wrist. I opened my mouth and grazed my teeth over it, caressing it with my tongue, tasting the distinct salt of his skin. Idea’s exploded into my mind. His other hand rested on the curve of my cheek, and his thumb traced along my jaw. He pressed his lips to mine, and took my hand with his free one, intertwining it with his own.

“You have been good to me, Aragorn,” I murmured suddenly. “Very good to me...but...” I smiled sliy, wy, watching his gaze turn questioning. “I believe it’s time I did something for you...”

“No, Eowyn...” he started.

“YES, Eowyn,” I hissed with a smirk. “You say no to me too often...and while I may not have the slightest idea what I’m doing, I will not let this night end without trying. That’s not my nature...” He smiled slightly in response.

“Yes…ow,”ow,” he admitted. He watched me as I sat up, and curled onto my knees, right between his legs. I had thought of such a moment since my love for him had been realized; except this was far more erotic than anything my mind had even bordered on. And my heart began to pound, for this was it; I had never looked upon a naked man before, least of all him...

He watched as my eyes reverted from his to begin the task of unclasping his belt. I sat upright, my hair spilling down past my eyes, past my bare breasts and veiling my stomach, as I slowly removed his belt, and began to loosen his breeches down his waist. He wasn’t stopping me. My eyes moved quickly, watching as the clothing dropped onto the ground, upon my shed gown. I took an unconsciously deep breath, and slowly turned to face him again.

I stared in awe and disbelief; Aragorn lay before me, completely unclothed, and it wasn’t a fantasy...it was overpoweringly real. He was sitting slightly up by his elbows, and one of his legs were bent far, the other only barely. He looked at me in serious silence, trying not to smile, I could tell. My muscles grew tighter as I slowly looked upon his member. I remembered how I’d once caught some boys bathing nude in the river, and had perhaps looked a bit too curiously...but what I had seen that day was blindingly different from what I looked upon now. I was afraid to touch him, afraid of his reaction. I slowly met his eyes, and pressed my hands against his knees, straightening his legs.

Gradually, I slid my hands down them, all the way to his feet and back up again. His tough, brazen male body. I clenched my fingers around his firm calves, and over his thighs. His body stiffened as I drew closer to his arousal. I had to touch him. I knelt my head to the side as I reached forward, slowly, and grazed my finger over the tip of his manhood. I reverted my eyes to his, but he gaze was hard, more of a challenging glare. I refocused, and reached my entire hand forward, gently clasping all of my fingers around. My glance darted to his face again, sneakily. Now I had him; His eyes were closed, and he was starting to breath heavier.

I began to run my hand down his length and back up again, slowly. I looked up at him again. His lips were now tightly pursed. I knew then what to do nextleanleant forward softly, and, without thinking, took him into my mouth. I heard him inhale sharply. I could understand now why he had done such things to me. Even the vaguest thought of making him moan ensnared me in exhilaration. I began to circle my tongue up and down, around, as I had learned in our kisses. I trembled in elation when a low growl of pleasure emitted from him. I took him into my mouth deeper, my tongue caressing every inch of him forever into memory. I wanted him, and every sound he made, every guttural, ravenous, deep masculine groan, was my reward.

Suddenly he sat up, and pushed me back, pinning himself above me. I blinked up at him wide eyed, knowing and yet not knowing what was coming next. His lips were pursed, his eyes brimmed madly with hot desire, and in one swift movement, he pressed himself against my entrance lightly. I breathed in sharply, looking at him ardently, unnerved by his hesitance.

“Don’t stop...” I begged in a whisper. He curved his thumb over my chin, and slowly began to sink inside of me. I looked into his eyes intensely, clutching onto his arms. I felt an excruciating resistance. When he swept past my virginity, a sudden groan escaped from my throat. The pain was overwhelmed by the pleasure, by my inescapable desire for our union. Yet, he paused, questioning me with his eyes.

“No, don’t stop,” I gasped. Then, after a final, brisk movement, he slid completely into me. I clutched my arms around him and curved my spine, my lips slightly parted and trembling at the feeling of throbbing fullness. The moment lingered. Then he pulled back, and slowly entered again, as far as he could. I quivered, and met his gaze, met his lips, and they trembled against mine, expelling a small, low noise.

He began to pulse, in and out of me, slowly and gently. I lay my head back, and trembled with a lingering sigh. With every gentle thrust he made, I wanted him more. I moved my hips against his, tantalizing him to go faster. As he did, I clutched my arms around him tighter, starting to sigh in low, lingering moans.

“Aragorn,” I hissed. At his name, he began to thrust into me as swift and deep as possible. I cried out in pleasure, and curled my nails against his back. I could feel his muscles contracting; I could feel the slick heat of his skin, as my fingers slipped down...

“Eowyn...” he gasped suddenly, “wrap your legs around my waist...” With a slight growl I did so. His penetration was so much deeper, so much more intense, that we both moaned hard in unison. I closed my eyes tightly and hissed, gasped, both noises merging into moans as I felt myself slowly getting closer. He crushed his mouth to mine at every entrance, his distinctive growls turning to broken, passionate moans. I met his eyes at evehrushrust, watched as the beautiful swells of pleasure made his lips twitch, his breathing harder; and how his stare never left mine. My eyes closed to the world, my ears catching his every exhale become a deep, rough exclamation.

Words flowed from my mouth incoherently. He was consistently going faster, harder, trembling, breathless moans pouring past his lips, and to my ears. I was almost there, panting, moaning, grinding my nails down his back. With a final tremendous thrust, I trembled into an overwhelming brink of pleasure, and it remained as he continued to thrust hard. I cried out, and panted his name against him. I rocked powerfully against him, my chin burying against his shoulder, my hands clasped fast on the back of his neck as I moaned hard and long. Then the bliss shuddered and sank slowly, but he continued on. I could already feel another climax starting to build, when he covered his mouth with mine, and fairly roared into me. I opened my mouth wide to receive his cry, locking it into my memory. I felt him release inside of me, in a hot, glorious rush.

We lay clinging to each other in a trembling, slick embrace, for several wonderful minutes. It was silent, save our vicious hisses of breath. My legs were still tied around him, keeping him firmly inside of me. Still trembling, I pulled both sides of his hair behind his ears, my fingers lingering long on the hot feel of sweat on his skin. He kissed me deeply. Mgs fgs finally relaxed, and slipped back to the bed, feeling heavy, but in a wonderful, satisfied way.

He gently removed himself from me, and went to lay by my side. He turned my way, and leant his chin in his hand, watching me, his breath still passing hard through his nose. The candle light was hushed, flickering shadows against his face. I rolled onto my stomach and crawled close to him, laying my head down on his chest. He ran his hand along the curve of my shoulder, then withdrew. I felt like we understood each other now. The tension between us had been vanquished, and now we lay together, in a beautiful serenity.

“I’ve wanted you since the moment I first beheld you,” I muttered, after a long silence. He sat up, so his back was slumped against the headboard, and my head was in his lap. I twisted onto my back, and looked up at him. He stroked my hair, his lips curved up in a gentle smile.

“I watched you that night...as you swam back and forth in the pond. I denied my attraction to you, up until our swords clashed, and I saw the fire in your eyes. That was when I knew I loved you.” He ran his finger along my lower lip, as I looked at him in amazement. “And from then on, I wanted you. It was almost unbearable.”

“Then you suppress your emotions fairly well,” I admitted quietly.

“And for that I am sorry. But now you know.”

“Yes,” I agreed, grinning. “I do.” I twisted to lay on my stomach, and sprawled out along his legs. I felt the curve of his knee beneath my palm, and closed my eyes as he stroked his fingers through my hair. He was mine tonight. His skin was mine to touch, his voice was mine to hear, his affections were focused solely on me.

“You’re going to be exhausted tomorrow,” I mumbled.

“Quite the contrary, my lady,” he replied, running his finger down my spine. I smiled, and closed my eyes, relaxing completely. When his hand slipped along my backside, and down my legs, I pushed myself up with my wrists, and crawled on top of him. He held my face in his hands, and gazed up at me. I smirked and leant down to lightly kiss him, as my hand reached down and ...

“Eowyn,” he whispered sharply against my lips. I began to circle my fingers sensuously. I flung my hair back, and stroked his cheek with my free hand. His gaze had prickled into sly amusement. “Just what has gotten into you?” he asked in a playful murmur.

“You have,” I uttered back, sinking against him in a deep kiss. He pulled me closer, and I continued my ministrations on him, teasing him, feeling him become firm within my grasp. I slipped away from our kiss, and crossed the contours of his face with my mouth, and down to his neck. I closed my eyes, and ravished his skin with my kiss, whilst caressing still along his arousal. He groaned and began to lift me off of him.

“No,” I objected in a husky whisper. Slowly, he relaxed, looking up at me with playfully suspicious eyes.

“Not a slow learner,” he commented in a growl. I smirked, and kissed him in, what I hoped, was tantalizing slowness. Curving my legs around his waist, laying flat upon him, I pressed myself slowly against his rigid member. He hissed in a sharp breath, and I opened my eyes to find his gaze hard on mine, darkened between disbelief and awoken lust. He did not object to my boldness, and I continued, savoring the luscious, utterly palpable feeling of him slowly entering my body. The power assuassuredly mine now.

When I had sank myself completely around him, I hesitated before withdrawing. When I thrust down again, my eyes fell shut, and a small exclamation of pleasure escaped my mouth. It was overwhelming; this reality, this man within me, under my control. I grasped his shoulders hotly with my hands, and began to take him in and out of me in a rhythmic momentum. I become possessed by the feelings, my movements fast and frenzied in my inexperience; but soon our moans were interlaced once again in a hot, pulsing song. His hands clutched around my waist, and he pulled me harder against him. My back arched, and my head lolled to the side as I felt chasms of pleasure rushing closing together.

Just as I came, barely having chance enough to cry out his name, he sat up, and, with me tangled in his lap, began to thrust upwards into me. I met him with my own movem, an, and, with my legs tied firmly around his waist and my hands on his shoulders, we made love again. And now it was harder, more passionate than ever before. He growled heldheld me close, kissed me torridly, my name spilling from his mouth in glorious full sweep, as he thrust harder and faster. When my release finally came, I raked my nails down his back in my bliss, and cried out his name a final time. Then, with a tremes sus surge of power into the final thrust, he met my climatic cries with his own.

Tremblingethgether in firm embrace, our eyes were locked, our lips doubly parted in desperate, exhilarated pants for breath. He kissed me hungrily, and I held fast to his face, tracing my fingers down the hot sweat that now glazed his skin. We laid back onto the bed for a long while, savoring the after spell of wonderful satisfaction that coursed through us. I curved my fingers along his ear and leant up to whisper...

“Thank you...” He grazed his fingers down my cheek, and looked long into my eyes, a beautiful contentedness stirring peacefully there.

“Thank you,” he whispered back. I swept my head back, and kissed him lightly, first on his mouth, then all along the high curve his cheekbone, all the way to his ear. He held me close, stroking his fingers through my hair.

Minutes, or perhaps hours, passed. I didn’t mind which it was. His arms were around me, keeping me curved and snuggled against him. I never wanted the night to end. I treasured everything...the rise and fall of his chest with every breath he took, the gentle caress of his fingers along my arms, the sultry contours of his body against mine...I couldn’t even differentiate between when the reality ended and my dreams began. Both consisted of us as lovers, clinging to each other in sleep amidst the candle light.