Halrloprillalar   prillalar@gmail.com   http://prillalar.com/

June 18, 2003

RATING: R.

FANDOM/SPOILERS: Lord of the Rings. Movies and books.

SUMMARY: Eomer/Eowyn. Take care of your sister.

DISTRIBUTION: Archive anywhere. Email forwarding allowed.

DISCLAIMER: Tolkien, not me.

NOTES: Thanks to Kest for beta.


CARE
by Halrloprillalar - prillalar@gmail.com

Take care of your sister.

Those were the last words Eomer heard from his mother when she
died, and the first he heard from his uncle when he came into that
house.

And so he had. He'd dried Eowyn's tears in her grief, fed her bread
in her hunger, given her strength in her need. She would not leave
his side to do as the women did and so he taught her on the field
as well, with sword and shield and bow.

Take care of me, brother, she would say, her hand in his, and he
could deny her nothing.

When Eowyn was a woman grown, men's eyes began to follow her. But
always she turned her head away, for she had no need, she said, for
any other man. And Eomer would smile, but sadly, for he knew some
day she would not turn away.

Then one night, when the north wind was bitter with snow, she came
to him at night and roused him from his sleep.

I am cold, Eowyn said. I would not be alone. She lay down beside
him, her head pillowed on his shoulder and her unbound hair
spilling over his chest.

Her body stretched alongside Eomer's and he put his arms around
her. She shook and to Eomer she seemed to give off heat, so that he
thought her fevered.

I will fetch the leech, he said, but she embraced him and would not
let him go.

Take care of me, brother, she said, and put her arms about his neck
and kissed his mouth.

This was wrong, Eomer knew, a brother did not lie with his sister.
But her mouth was warm and her arms clinging and he loved her more
than anything else on the black earth.

The taste of her filled him with hunger. He pulled her close and
stroked her face and throat, kissed the hollow of her neck, her
shoulder where her gown had pulled aside.

She kissed his face over and over, his cheeks above the beard, his
temples, the corners of his mouth. She loosened her gown and took
his hand and held it to her breast.

Eomer learned her body, intent upon each curve, as though he were a
skald and Eowyn a verse that he was making. He touched her and she
cried out softly. He wished that he could see her face.

Take care of me, she said again, and Eomer could wait no longer. He
raised her gown, his hands sliding over her strong thighs. He
entered her and she cried out again, this time in pain. It grieved
him, but she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him as he moved
against her.

He spent before too long, and when he rolled aside, Eowyn put her
face against his neck and wept. And Eomer wept too, wetting his
beard with tears, and they lay sleepless in each other's arms until
dawn.

The next night, she came to him again.

F I N I S

Halrloprillalar   prillalar@gmail.com   http://prillalar.com/