Chapter Second
Upon entering, Eowyn was struck by how grandiose the festal hall was; alone, it was almost as large as the Golden Hall in Rohan. She felt sick again; how could she have ever hoped to win against a woman used to adornments such as this? The gilded torches, the ornately carved stone, it all screamed of class, and power like her own small kingdom never had. Was she the hall in Edoras, and Arwen the elegant spectacle and majesty that surrounded Eowyn at this very moment and assailed her vision? Her slender fingers touched the cool stone of the chamber, caressing and trailing down the smooth surface like the tentative embrace of the dying.
The pale rock siphoned the heat of her hand away, leaving a marked contrast between the rapidly growing heat of the packed festal hall, and the numbness beginning to set in at the very tips of her fingers. The fine blonde hairs at the nape of her neck began to prickle, and her entire body heated up as she realized that all eyes were on her slim form. Raising her head, she met the eyes of a few of her unusually attentive audience and saw something that shocked her; primal, unveiled, desire. It burned darkly in the eyes of most of the lords gathered, and, to Eowyn's startlement, quite a few of the women. Then, she remembered that tonight she was not herself, and a seductive curl worked its way onto her slick red lips.
Her stride changed, became more deliberate, the slightly accentuated swaying of her hips the cause of more than one muffled gulp in the charged silence. Wheat colored locks waved and rippled, enticing as she purposefully gave her head a slow shake, tilting it back slightly to bare an alabaster neck. The shieldmaiden paused short of the grand table as the herald seemed to come to his senses and announce her.
"The Lady Eowyn, Shieldmaiden of Rohan, daughter of Eomund and sister to King Eomer, Lord of the Riddermark."
Rustling noises pervaded the hall, as the lords, always chivalrous, stood upon her arrival. Bestowing the perfunctory nod to the table at large, she sauntered up to the head of the table where her seat had been reserved for her.
It was a good thing that she had determined to be something else tonight, because she was sure that the normal Eowyn would have passed out at this new trial that had been placed before her. At the right sat King Ara-...Elessar now, she corrected herself mentally, and at Aragorn's right was Faramir. Of course, on the king's left was Queen Arwen, and to the elf's left was an empty seat. Her seat, Eowyn thought dully. The shieldmaiden within began to panic, paroxysms of doubt beginning to worm their way into her senses, prompting Lady Passion to rare her seductive head and mock the shriveling woman hiding within. 'What of it? You bow before no one tonight. Take pleasure where it pleases you and do not let this queen faze you. Now sit.' The voiced ordered calmly, and again the Eowyn who had more fears than anybody would ever know was hidden inside the shell of the red-clothed siren.
Without conscious thought, Eowyn moved to face Arwen, standing to the side of the delicate throne. When those clear azure eyes met hers, she spoke, voice slightly deeper, smokier, than usual.
"Congratulations to you on this joyous day, My Queen and King." She dipped into a curtsy, scarlet silk flaring outwards in a cascade. She raised her head to regard the elf woman. Arwen was staring through her again, as if measuring. 'Measuring what?' Eowyn wondered idly. 'My soul, my worth, my truth? It is said that her father and grandmother can gaze into the hearts of men. Would it truly be a surprise if she can as well?' She stood idly for what seemed like an eternity, unconsciously memorizing every curve and dip in the queen's face, until Arwen smiled.
" We thank you, Lady Eowyn, and hope upon you the joy that we have found. Now, it would not do for you to stand all night, please, seat yourself, and partake of our table." Arwen's voice, honey-like, wove its way into Eowyn, causing the shieldmaiden to choke internally. 'Does she have that effect on everybody?' Wildly, she turned around to see a table of besotted males and adoring females. 'Apparently so.' Gracefully, she nodded as she shifted to seat herself into the smooth wooden chair.
The next span of time passed in a haze for Eowyn; she remembered vaguely at least three types of capon, countless decadent courses which she ate numbly until she was full to bursting though she still felt empty inside. The conversation, she recalled, was not the most verbose she had ever participated in, however, it suited her, as she wasn't really the type for idle conversation. Instead, she had observed the others through her stupor, sipping frequently from the hammered gold goblet before her, which the server had taken care to keep full. Queen Arwen was every bit the able and gracious lady, conversing quite charmingly with all those in her immediate vicinity who addressed her, always taking time to direct fond smiles at Aragorn. The king himself was also quite adept at the art of colloquialism, easily conversing with Faramir and Eomer. He even took the pains of asking Eowyn a question, the polite query obligating her into at least a few minutes of conversation where she tried valiantly to shove down the feelings of bitterness and desire. Fortunately, a lordling from some minor holding in Gondor's western reaches had the bad form to address an issue to King Aragorn at his wedding feast, sparing Eowyn the further torture. 'Praise the gods for men without social tact!' she thought gratefully, just as the cupbearer arrived. Her gray eyes watched the server fill her goblet yet again, and she noticed that the neutrally dressed woman would not meet her eyes. By this time in the night, Eowyn had already imbibed quite a quantity of the rich wine, and was feeling even more confident than before. Smoothly, she shot her hand out, marveling as she actually grasped the cupbearer's cheek rather than missing completely and making a fool of herself.
Gently, she forced the young woman to face her. Lust filled the woman's hazel eyes, causing Eowyn to narrow her own eyes speculatively at her own effect. Her lips curved into a smirk and she smoothly lowered the other woman's head, raising slightly to deliver a chaste kiss upon a bared cheek. As she released her tender grasp on the cupbearer's chin she trailed a slight breath across the exposed flesh of the woman's flesh, causing it to prickle as hands convulsed around the wine pitcher to keep it from falling.
"Thank you for keeping my goblet filled, lady."
Shivering perceptibly from crown to toe, the poor cupbearer nodded silently and then left to fill another goblet, admirably stumbling only once. Eowyn chuckled to herself, lowering her head once again to gaze at the diners.
Arwen was, in turn, staring at her, one brow raised in question. The blonde-haired woman held Arwen's gaze until Arwen seemed to answer the question for herself, smiling quietly and turning back to Aragorn, who didn't notice the interchange. A few moments of conversation passed between the King and his Queen, and then the ruler stood, tall figure causing all conversation to cease.
"Friends, my Queen and I thank you for blessing this day with your presence. After this excellent meal we would like you to join us for dancing." King Aragorn smiled broadly, and then clapped his calloused hands together twice. "Clear the tables please!"
Eowyn giggled silently at the courtesy the king paid to his servants, unaccustomed to seeing royalty being so kind to palace servants. They loved him already, she could tell by the way they hastened to clear the massive surface. Before she realized it, the table was entirely clear and the servants were straining as a group to lift the table and move it away, exposing the polished floor beneath. Bored even by these moments of inactivity, she located the woman who had been acting as her cupbearer earlier and glided over, causing the woman to almost drop the edge of her table as Eowyn subtly shifted to glide a hip against the woman's upper thigh. Hands darting out to catch and steady the woman's share of the table, she murmured softly in her ear.
"Careful now, lady. I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."
The woman ducked her head.
"Milady, you needn't concern yourself with me...." Eowyn had to strain to catch the woman's whispered words.
"Nonsense. Do you have a name, little mouse?" She released the table when she was sure that the woman had a secure grip on it.
"Sorreine, m'lady."
Eowyn smiled. "Well, you have a nice night, Sorreine. Perhaps I shall meet you again sometime."
She took her leave then, stepping back. Lords and ladies were already flooding the dance floor, tentative about approaching each other, but realizing that this was a night where they need not dance with their significant others. 'Well...this won't do at all,' thought Eowyn. She looked for a target, and found one.
Her mark sighted, she moved gracefully towards him, stopping inches away to wrap a pale arm around his neck, bringing his head level with her lush red lips.
"Care to dance, my lord?" She kept her voice soft and husky.
The spicy scent emanating from her rendered him speechless, able only to nod blindly and lead her rather ineptly onto the nearest patch of bare floor, where he proceeded to lead her in a barely adequate semblance of dance. She let out a mental sigh of relief when the number ended, but still had the presence of mind to caress the tops of his shoulders easily and give her thanks in her seductive voice, causing the man to near pass out from euphoria.
Three dances with men of varying ability later, she cast about for a victim, eyes falling on a timid looking woman trying to hide in the corner of the hall. Newfound and quite probably temporary confidence in place, Eowyn made her way towards the woman, space clearing around her as if by magic.
The lady glanced up, shocked as Eowyn's slender hand appeared in her field of vision. Drawing from her observations of the gentlemen, she offered the still bewildered woman a deep bow.
"I grow weary of traipsing about the floor with these lovely, blundering males....Would you?" Blinking once, twice, the small brunette seemed to pass Eowyn's question through five mental translators before finally nodding and placing her hand into Eowyn's slightly larger one.
The other woman's reticence convinced her that she was playing the part of the male this time; Eowyn gracefully whirled the woman about the dance floor, her scarlet gown contrasting beautifully with the pale green of her dance partner's attire. The woman seemed surprised that Eowyn led this well, which was reasonable considering that few women ever led in dances. 'Well I didn't hang around the boys for nothing!' Eowyn thought wickedly as she smirked. As if on cue, her body took control, hips subtly grinding into the other woman's, producing a quiet gasp. 'Definitely didn't hang around the boys for nothing.'
A few minutes later, she released the woman, leaving the silent woman with a kiss of the hand in a puddle of bitter arousal. 'The women dance better than the men.' Eowyn realized, and looked around for another dance partner.
Several candlemarks later, a buzz had arisen about the scarlet woman, the Lady from Rohan, who was seducing the lords and the ladies left and right, and a good number of those present waiting hopefully for her to approach them, part of them perhaps sensing that she would be the one to approach, and not daring to do so themselves.
It was in this loaded atmosphere that Eowyn thrived confidently, more than a little inebriated, yet in remarkable control of her bodily functions. She moved about, looking for the next in an already long line when those surrounding her stepped away, leaving a considerable amount of space around her. Puzzled, she paused in her movement.
A hand tapped her shoulder gently. She whirled.
A/N: Finally, chapter 2! Wakaka. Right now, I'm more than a little ashamed of the "Festal night" Eowyn...the shameless hussy . But see?? I left ya'll in suspense! gasp Guess who it is! No! You'll never guess! (Yeah right lol. It's so obvious.) Actually, I could just as easily keep going within the same chapter, but you know what, guysh? It's late and it would have taken forever to find another cut-off point, so there you go. Victim of circumstance, my poor chapter two. So, tell me what you think and I'll get up three as soon as possible. Note the pen name change, ya'll! Go goinne dia thu.
S.