Chapter Fourteen - A long delayed wedding night
These characters all belong to the estate of J.R.R. Tolkien. This story was written for pleasure and not for financial gain.
Warning - this chapter contains content of a sexual nature between husband and wife.
With grateful thanks to Raksha for her help with this chapter
Éowyn hurried to her own chamber. There she undressed, shedding her everyday garments in favour of a silken nightgown from the lands of the Easterlings. Donning a robe over the gossamer-light material, she took the candle and swiftly walked along the corridor to Faramir's room. To her relief, the door was not locked. Turning the knob quietly, she crept inside. Then she put the candle on the table near the window, and slowly approached the bed.
The man she had, and still loved, her wedded lord, lay asleep. Éowyn stood still, wanting to hold this moment in her heart. She had never studied him before while he slept. He seemed most fair to her eyes. She gazed down at her husband's face, which seemed to possess an especial beauty in repose. Most men looked foolish when they slept; like her brother or her uncle. But Faramir's features, his long eyelashes and the high cheekbones framed by raven hair, were strangely compelling, with a touch of Elven mystery.
She wanted to be completely possessed by this man she had once misunderstood and scorned. Her desire had been rekindled the night they had lain holding the King. And now it blazed. The feeling she had cherished for Aragorn seemed a pale, weak shadow indeed compared to this flame that rose within her, driving her to the one man she had ever truly desired.
She shed her robe and climbed into bed beside him.
"Éowyn, is that you?" Faramir asked sleepily. "Is it time for me to sit with Aragorn? I feel rested now."
"He said he wished to be alone," Éowyn told him. "One of us can see how he is later." She took a deep breath and planted a passionate kiss on Faramir's lips.
Her heart pounded wildly while she awaited his response. Would he think her too bold? When his lips hungrily met hers, there was no doubt in her mind that he wanted her too.
Faramir drew her close, caressing herfirst with his eyes, thenwith strong yet slender hands that made her quiver with delight. "You are so beautiful!" he exclaimed, as he traced her features with eager fingertips. "May I?" he asked shyly. "Or should we wait until we have the Elven pledge rings?" This was the moment for which he had long prayed. Yet, he wondered if he could give her all the pleasure she deserved, as his beloved, his lady. He had never experienced bodily union before. Like most of his race, he had always shunned casual couplings, preferring to contain his desires until married, trusting that natural instincts would guide him when the moment came. Was it the right time to do this? He never would have thought to take such a step in this unexpected and sudden fashion. But his body seemed to be outracing his mind, tensing, tightening, and yearning to join with the woman beside him. In fact, it was taking some effort on his part not to seize her shoulders and press her down beneath him, make her his wife in deed as well as word.
Éowyn's lips met his again, giving their own reply before she nibbled his ear and whispered. "We have waited long enough! I want you body and soul! I would be your wife in more than name!"
Faramir was pleased that she felt this need as well. But did Éowyn know that there would be pain? He had heard that much from the talk of other men who boasted of awakening desire in their innocent young brides. "And so I would have it, beloved. But I fear I might hurt you."
"You would only hurt me by denying me, dear one," she answered with certainty. "I am a strong woman of the North who has spent her life astride a horse, not a statue made of glass."
Having uttered such bold words, Éowyn felt a sliver of fear as Faramir took her into his arms and she felt his mounting desire. "Am I to lose myself too, Man of Gondor?" she whispered, tensing in his embrace. "Will I no longer be the proud Shieldmaiden of Rohan?"
"You will always be my fair warrior maid!" Faramir reassured her. "It is I who will lose myself wholly in you, if you will but unite with me!"
He rolled away from her, holding himself back while he whispered words of love in her ear and slowly stroked her beautiful throat, shoulders and perfect breasts. If he could increase her desire to match his own, perhaps the consummation of their union would prove easier for her.
Suddenly Éowyn felt a certainty that almost chilled her with its power, that this night would yield more than the fulfilment of their marriage vows. She had never been given to foresight, but she knew that they had to come together now, that their love would have consequence other than pleasure. For one fleeting moment, she had a sense of destiny, and what it required of them, for her, for him. And her own vision matched the demand of fate. She wanted this!
"Give me your child, Faramir!" Éowyn pleaded. "Sow the seeds of new life within me!"
Warmed as she was by Faramir's attempt to hold back his desire for her sake, she would have done with caution! Éowyn smiled up at him, only a little nervously, and lay down on her back. She nodded her assent, suddenly tired of words. Faramir's eyes brightened as he leaned over her. She willingly spread herself beneath him.
When they finally joined, she felt only a brief stab of pain. Then Faramir looked at her, his eyes so full of love and joy that something seemed to melt within her. The pain was gone, replaced by warmth and heat. She was amazed at how their bodies fitted together, as if out of all the world, she were made for him and he for her. They belonged to each other now. They were explorers in a new world of their own, their tenderness and ardour more than compensated for their lack of experience in such matters.
Finally they disengaged, but remained clasped in a close embrace.
"Why was I foolish and fearful enough to deny myself this happiness?" Éowyn sighed.
"I should have told you before, my beautiful wife, how much I loved and wanted you," Faramir lamented. "Why was I so afraid?"
Éowyn kissed him again, with renewed desire. "I made things very difficult for you before. Don't you now fear this wild and passionate woman even more?"
"I have a confession to make," Faramir said shyly. "The night we were married, I was so very nervous, I doubt that I would have been capable of fully making you my wife. I was almost relieved at first that you did not appear to desire me. It was only later, when we returned to Gondor without all the jests and ribaldry that I wanted you so much that it hurt. Yet I feared to approach you in case you rejected me or I could not please you as I should."
"We have found each other now and I will never let you go!" she pledged, sealing her vow with a tender kiss.
She could say no more as Faramir was smothering her willing lips with kisses of his own. And then, oh then...
Something new happened this time, as he took her. There were strange flutters inside her, tingling like the froth in a cup of mead. The flutters grew stronger; until she moaned with a pleasure so great it was almost painful. She heard Faramir cry out her name in a joy that surely equalled her own.
'Lustful' and 'wild' were only words to her now, not sufficient to describe the delightful shudders that racked her body. She clawed Faramir's back in ecstasy, begging him to take her again.
No longer a Shieldmaiden with a heart of ice, Éowyn rejoiced in yielding to womanly passion at last.
Their desire sated, they still held each other, wanting the moment of bliss to last forever. Éowyn was almost surprised at how suddenly drowsy she felt, but it mattered not, for she would fall asleep the happiest woman in all Middle-earth.
Exhausted now from exercising his husbandly duties, Faramir desired nothing more than to sleep in his wife's arms. She slept now herself, with a soft, sweet look on her flushed face. Faramir hoped then that they would one day have a daughter. For, as much as he needed a son and heir, he would adore a little girl with that same fair face and proud spirit as Éowyn.
However, the call of nature and his inborn sense of duty told him to rise. He only hoped that Aragorn was sleeping peacefully. Pulling on his robe over his crumpled nightshirt, Faramir made his way to the privy. When he emerged, a sudden feeling of dread assailed him. He raced towards Aragorn's room.