Anything for My King

Anything for my King

by Lily Frost

Feet, small and feminine though calloused through use, pattered on the freezing stone floor. Their owner ignored the cold that was absorbed through her naked feet and bare arms, the cold that seeped into her bones and penetrated her very being. Indeed, she welcomed the cold - the freezing arms that ran through the castle corridors and wrapped
themselves around her in their suffocating embrace. She wore naught but a simple white nightgown, and the cold made this cling to her skin. Even in the corridors there was a wind, drifting in through open windows, and tousling her hair. Eowyn paused at an open window and gazed outside, staring at the city of grey beneath her and the velvety sky bove her, scattered with thousands of diamond-like stars and a sliver of a silver moon.

The white lady of Rohan, fiance to Faramir, rested her arms on the ledge and ighed, a melancholy smile gracing her features. Long ago she had given up on Aragorn, King now, of Gondor. But his image still haunted her thoughts. Then Eowyn thought of Arwen, his queen. She was an elf - beautiful, regale and sweet natured. Dismally Eowyn looked at her own body: the small hands with their knobbly knuckles, the freckles that splattered her arms, her small breasts... she sniffled a little - a very wet, very human sound.

"Lady Eowyn?" Questioned a voice, rough but not at all unpleasant, and uncannily familiar.

She turned around quickly, putting herself into a defensive position out of instinct, her eyes wide. With a flush once she realized who it was, Eowyn drew her arms back down. The very individual of her thoughts stood before her. "Aragorn, my liege. orry, I was lost in thought."

"It is a bit late for walking the corridors, is it not?"

"I-I needed some air."

"You looked like a lost ghost... albeit a very lovely ghost."

She blushed a little bit redder, "I was just wandering about."

"In your nightgown?" Aragorn raised an eyebrow at her, slightly amused, "Eowyn, you shall catch cold before your wedding."

"And if I do?" She asked sharply, thinking that his tone implied she could not care for herself.

"You would not want to be miserable for your wedding."

"No..."

"I would wager that you are freezing in that..." Aragorn reached out and gently touched her arm.

Eowyn shivered, though not from cold. At his touch electricity seemed to spark from where he had touched her, almost a burning sensation.

"Come, if you do not wish to return to your room, you may warm up in mine."

"Butc Arwen." Eowyn muttered.

"She will not mind." Aragorn explained, reaching out a hand to Eowyn, "Come. We have a fire in the hearth already."

Reluctant, but tempted too far, Eowyn placed her hand in Aragorn's and walked next to him down the corridor. She would not let him lead her.

- - -

Aragorn and Eowyn passed through the vacant, draughty corridors unnoticed, in an amiable silence. Eowyn noted the softness of his breath and lightness of his step and was again surprised by how one who seemed heavy and mannish of build could move as such - in the manner of elves. She had learned that he was raised by them, and knew of his bloodline, but he seemed so human. When she had first seen him she never would have guessed that his quick reflexes were born of anything besides survival in the wilds, but over time Eowyn had become aware of the subtle, alluring grace to these movements. Elven was the word for them: those smooth, nimble jumps and parries, his steps, the way he would
bring down his sword in one swift flick and decapitate some orc. Oh, that was indeed ragorn! Eowyn thought, looking at him with a lusty glimmer to her large, blue eyes. He had groomed himself since taking his place as king, though he still had a certain ruggedness about him, and Eowyn noted the way he was behaving then as opposed to how he behaved in court.

The mahogany door opened, and Aragorn let Eowyn step inside. Immediately she noticed the warmth of the room and found that it was pleasant. She wiggled her toes into the thick rug, loving the way it felt on her bare feet. At the sound of the door opening Arwen, lounging on the four-posted bed draped in red, looked from her book to the door. She raised an eyebrow at Eowyn, and pulled her coverlets up a little higher for she wore a thin nightgown.

Aragorn followed close behind, and closed and latched the door behind himself. From the door he cast a grin to his wife on the bed and a silent communication seemed to pass between the two of them before she nodded and waved a hand to invite Eowyn to sit on the bed. On the low table next to her Arwen set down her leather-bound volume and allowed
the coverlets to fall, revealing the top of her blue nightgown. Eowyn caught a glimpse of the swell of her breasts from beneath the silken fabric. Quickly, the White Lady averted her eyes and perched herself uneasily on the corner of their bed.

From the hearth spilt red-gold light, making Eowyn's hair shimmer like molten sunlight in the dull light of the room. Eowyn examined the fine rug, the intricate stitching on the coverlets, and the other royal features of the room. Then she glanced up at Aragorn who had seated himself comfortably onto a plush chair with easy view of the bed. He sat with his knees spread a little ways apart, watching the two women on his bed with a strange look to his eyes.

"Good evening lady Eowyn, what brings you to our chamber at this late hour?" Arwen asked softly.

"I was invited to warm up..." she paused, "By Aragorn."

"Mmn... warm up?" The same note was in her voice that had been in Aragorn's before. A suggestive tone that sent shivers up her spine. The queen was the very epitome of elven beauty.

Eowyn blinked owlishly, and looked to Aragorn for help. He just smiled, "Perhaps my wife can help you in that?"

A hand touched her face, slender-fingered and entirely elven. Again, Eowyn was confused, though she had an idea of where this was going. She turned to the hand, allowing it to caress her face and clasp her chin along one side.

Arwen had now slid from beneath her coverlets and her silken nightgown was slipping off one shoulder, the fabric not leaving much to the imagination. She knelt on the bed, leaning near to Eowyn so that her breath was warm on the cool skin.

"Your eyes hold no fear."

"So beautiful and strong," Aragorn commented, "...wild. Like a mountain cat that will not be tamed."

"Mayhap the kiss of a lady could tame the savage beast." Arwen said, leaning forward to capture Eowyn's lips with her own. Arwen's kiss was gentle, but laced with a sense of insistence: a soft demanding. Eowyn held fast, galvanized in place for several seconds before she returned the kiss, welcoming the feeling of another woman's lips. It was nothing like kissing a man. Gone was the roughness, the force - it was simple, honest and
yielding. When they pulled away neither was breathless, but the heat remained across their flushed skin. Arwen smiled at Eowyn, amused at the redness that spread across Eowyn's pale skin.

"Oh my, I am sorry... I do not know what came over me!" Eowyn cried.

"Worry not, it was I." Arwen said, shaking her head.

"Please do it again." said Aragorn quietly from the shadows, his voice muted by lust.

"Again..." Eowyn stammered.

"Yes... take it as an order from your king."

"And you would do anything for your king," cooed Arwen, gazing imploringly up at Eowyn with her cobalt-blue eyes. Again, the straps of her nightgown were sliding down her shoulders, revealing more of that pale, flawless flesh and well defined clavicles.

Eowyn was torn now. It was not proper - this was her queen! She was to be married to Faramir in a fortnight! Arwen's lower lip was jutting out slightly, like that of a child's when she is not getting what she wants. She was surprisingly alluring to Eowyn, as something strange and exotic... something utterly forbidden.

Again her gaze went to Aragorn. An explicit bulge grew in his breeches and he would not remove his eyes from the two women. He still had that look in his eyes, which Eowyn found most unnerving. The Aragorn she knew - he would not do this, would he? Was this a dream? It felt so real... caressing her cheek again was Arwen's soft breath, and then the lips were on her jaw and travelling down her neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses in their wake. Then a finger loosened the top of her nightgown and suddenly the button was undone and the nightgown bunched at he waist. Her torso was bare, breasts hardening instantly when they were exposed to the cool air.

Still frozen to her place, Eowyn did not move as the kisses continued making their way down - a tongue slid along her clavicles, dipping into the hollows, and then swooped to the low valley between her breasts. Lazily it trailed about, swirling around her left breast until at last Arwen's mouth took in her nipple. Eowyn gave a sudden, high gasp and tilted her head back, all thoughts of propriety lost.

From the corner of her eye Eowyn noticed Aragorn's breeches being loosened and the front opened, one of his large hands sliding down to grasp himself loosely. With the familiarity of one knows their own body; he glided his hand along his length, making it harden quickly beneath his own, rough touch.

Gently, Eowyn lay to the left of Arwen, arranging herself across the soft bed. Arwen meanwhile straddled her knees, hitching up her nightgown and then Eowyn felt a hand travel up her thigh - Arwen's hand she knew - with her smooth, soft skin and slender fingers. The hand caressed her thigh, running along her leg muscles, hardened by riding and running. Quickly her fingers darted up, lightly brushing her groin through her knickers. It was a teasing touch; a touch that spoke of things to come if she were to allow them.

"May I?" Arwen asked, bringing her mouth near Eowyn's cheek. Warm air glided across her cheeks as Eowyn nodded, her lips parting as she breathed deeper in her expectancy.

Now the fingers slid along the groove where her thighs and crotch met, toying with the edge of her knickers. Eowyn gave a small gasp as another hand joined the one, both gliding up and hitching her nightgown to just below her breasts, and then dragging her knickers down to her ankles in one smooth movement. Before Arwen were Eowyn's most private parts, the tufts of golden, curly hair that covered swollen folds. The waiting was almost unbearable.

From Eowyn's navel down slid Arwen's tongue, leaving a trail of moisture in its wake. Then her tongue darted out to lick the swollen clitoris, teasing before she swooped down for the kill and took it into her mouth. Eowyn's golden head was thrown back and she moaned, clutching Arwen's hair in one hand and a fist full of sheets in another.

One of Arwen's fine, delicately fingered hands reached into Eowyn, pressing slowly and smoothly up, inside of her. It bore down upon a spot -- that spot -- even as Arwen's tongue and mouth sucked and licked and played above her opening, moving up and down over the hard little lump over and over again. Eowyn tilted her head back and bucked her hips against Arwen, feeling that hot mouth all over her and those fine, talented ingers inside of her, exploring her secret places, pressing and rubbing wherever she found a pleasure spot.

From Aragorn's place near the bed Eowyn dimly registered heavy breathing and guttural groans as he pleasured himself, while watching his wife work Eowyn into a frenzy of passion.

Eowyn had lost all rational thought; now all she knew was Arwen. Arwen's mouth, Arwen's hair in her hand, so soft and strong, pressed against her tummy, and Arwen's body beneath her, pale skin flushing red, and Arwen's handsc her delicate, talented fingers upon which Eowyn was impaled.

At last -- though it seemed not long enough to Aragorn -- Eowyn reached her highest peak, crying out the loudest she had yet, and then letting her grip go lax and dropping her head, hair laden with sweat. Arwen pulled out her hand, and obediently licked up Eowyn's vaginal juices that spilt out, savouring the taste that was not a man's; lighter, almost sweet. She kissed the soft curls, and lead the kisses back up, tasting Eowyn's sweat on her skin and then kissed her mouth again, mingling her saliva with her other fluids. Eowyn returned the kiss, not as passionately, but gently now, with a sort of warm tiredness as she felt herself sinking into the bed. She sighed and allowed the haze to settle over her, gazing at Arwen above her, those beautiful, dark eyes veiled by their
dark lashes, the hair falling down and mingling with Eowyn's gold locks. "Wonderfulc" She whispered.

Arwen smiled and looked at Aragorn, as if for approval. He nodded to her, and then said to Eowyn, "Now, lady, perhaps the favour should be repaid?"

"Oh, of course. Of course!" Eowyn declared, "Only... I have never done it before."

"Then I shall guide you through it. Arwen, disrobe and lie down. Eowyn, sit above her, one leg on either side, as if you were riding a horse."

"I am no blushing virgin, if you please." Eowyn amended sharply.

Arwen smiled gently at Eowyn, but was silent besides. They did as they were told.

"Now," Came Aragorn's voice again, in the tone that he would use when instructing young soldiers. "Do to her as you would have one do to you: she is a woman, just as you yourself are."

"Is that the best kingly advice you can give me?" Eowyn asked, her voice laden with sarcasm.

"It is hard to explain in words" He muttered, "You simply //know// what to do."

"Go ahead." Arwen encouraged, her voice like dark silk.

Hesitantly, slowly, Eowyn kissed Arwen's breasts; they were fuller than her own, an unusual feature for an elf, but heavier too, and less stiff. Her nipples were a darker colour, rather than Eowyn's pink, and larger, morec adult. That was it. Arwen seemed older, but how old was she. Eowyn was suddenly halted by that thought. Why, Arwen must be
hundreds of years old! It was alarming to think of, and yet the skin beneath her was as soft as a babe's and her flesh still has firm as any woman in her prime. It was those eyes; Eowyn looked up, falling into those pools. Yes, those beautiful eyes contained wisdom that Eowyn could never hope to attain in her lifespan, as well as kindness.

Eowyn imitated Arwen's previous movements in the way she trailed kisses down, suddenly surprised when she found Arwen's pubic area free of hair. Confused, she looked to Arwen and then to Aragorn.

"That is a feature of the elves, even their men." Aragorn informed her.

"It makes what you are about to do more pleasant, at least among men." Arwen winked at Eowyn, who smiled softly, well aware of the prickly pubic hair that so many men seemed to possess.

She gave a cautious lick to the point where Arwen's body met her thighs, a tight groove, and Arwen gasped daintily. Then, with the courage of what she was, Eowyn dove down, her tongue lapping over Arwen's already moist opening, lax and yawning expectantly.

Eowyn licked the swollen clitoris, and all the smooth area around it, noting that it was more pleasant than pleasuring a man. Speaking of which, Aragorn's hand was in his pants again, pumping as he watched Eowyn return Arwen's favour. She tried to do all the things that pleased her. She ran her tongue vertically over the clitoris, and pushed it into the little area just above it; that worked well, she judged, by the lovely sounds Arwen made.

So, so, so very slowly, Eowyn dared reach one finger inside of Arwen, who moved her body as if to throw it on top of the finger. Eowyn took this as a suggestion, and gently slid in another, moving them deeper, in a circular motion, around and around, until she found the place that made Arwen cry out her little "Ai!" the loudest.

She pressed against it, repeatedly. Arwen gasped out, "Ai! Ai! Ai! Ai! AI!" Like an elf.

Eowyn had not been working Arwen very long, but Aragorn had been pumping himself this entire time, and when he finally gave his long, low moan, so did she, Eowyn finding a gush of hot fluid spill over her hand. She lapped it as if it were honey, and then, again mimicking the method Arwen had used on her, went back up to kiss Arwen on the mouth, gentle and strong, like a sea breeze embracing a sailor. Then she fell onto the elf, into her arms, and their limbs became entwined; the delicately elven and the strongly feminine, their hands -- such contrast between Arwen's long fingers and Eowyn's small, childish ones were intertwined as well, fingers touching as if they would not let go of each other. Aragorn pulled the coverlets over the two exhausted women, now gazing at each other, satisfied, admiring the beauty they had found in the other species.

"I had no idea human women could be so elven, actually."

"And I did not know elves felt pleasure like humans." Eowyn admitted.

Aragorn grinned. "I thank both of you, my queen and my white lady. Will you spend the night here, Eowyn?"

"I am not expected until later in the morrow, so it will not hurt." She replied, lifting the cover next to her.

Aragorn stripped off his clothes and curled into the bed, both him and Arwen wrapping their arms over Eowyn, as if she were a child who had crept into their bed after a ightmare. Eowyn reflected that Aragorn, in choosing Arwen over her, and probably done the best thing for the kingdom... and Faramir, well, Faramir had a certain charm; perhaps best described as an elvish gentleness, and an old fashioned gentlemanliness combined with a genuine respect and admiration for her... and love and adoration, which she felt too, though it was young still. And Faramir too, would do anything for his king.

Fin.