Title: Beneath a Rohan Moon
Author: Miranda Bell
Type: FCHet
Rating: mild R
Characters: Eowyn/Theodred, guest appearance by Eomer
Warning: If you consider kissing cousins incest, then incest
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Tolkien's estate etc not me; I make no money from using them; the plot and Mareth are mine
Beta: do
Timeline: about 6 years before the events of LotR
Notes: In my slightly canon-deviating Rohan world, Theodred is about 7 years younger than he is in Tolkien, and Eomer + Eowyn's parents have died some 10 years later than they do in Tolkien (ie, only in the last few years before this fic is set); readers of "Brother/Sister" may recognise Eomer's briefly-mentioned first love as my OFC Semmeth
Summary: On her 18th birthday, Eowyn looks extremely kissable and Theodred thinks he's just the man to do the kissing

*****
The denizens of the Golden Hall were retiring for the night in varying degrees of intoxication, satisfied that they had roundly celebrated Eowyn's eighteenth birthday at the feast Theoden had held in her honour.

Everyone agreed the young lady had certainly risen to the occasion, nay more, she had brightly shone out like a newly revealed treasure from the king's hoard. She had looked gorgeous in a gown of purple velvet, her long golden hair floating free save for a thin circlet of gold binding her forehead, her blue-grey eyes sparkling and an unaccustomed blush on her cheek. She had smilingly said all the right things to the right people, danced politely with her elders and vivaciously with her contemporaries and generally shown what a delightful young woman she could be when she let down just a little of what had become a habitual reserve.

One person who had particularly noticed was her cousin Theodred. With the progress of Eowyn's teen years a certain grimness and tension had settled upon her as she slowly assumed her place as a member of the ruling house of a beleaguered land. As for all women living in troubled times, it was hard on her to watch the menfolk ride out to patrol the borders, only able to pray for their safe return. And for Eowyn with the worry came the annoyance, being no mean fighter herself, that she was only permitted to go on minor missions with minimum risk, and even then not as often as she would like. Many a day there was a coiled spring in her stride and a set to her mouth that suggested she felt she was being kept from her true calling, and although she always had a smile for those she loved, still Theodred was glad tonight to see that the little wench, as he always thought of her, had not entirely lost the high spirits he remembered from her carefree childhood.

And, even as he had casually basked in the adoration of most of the other women in the room, her loveliness had sent a ripple through his male awareness he had not expected. For the last couple of years, given his steadfast refusal to find any eligible woman put before him suitable enough to settle down with so that together they might produce some heirs for Rohan, it was true that some of Theoden's advisers had started to bandy about the suggestion that he and Eowyn might eventually marry. From their comfortable paternal heights they reasoned that the one would have all but sown his wild oats just as the other was coming into ripe womanhood, and agreed between themselves that ten years was not such a huge age gap, trading such phrases as 'marriage of convenience', 'royal line doubly secured' and 'learning to love over time' as though, Theodred thought, agreeing to marry one's kin without a shred of passion to show for it was as simple a proposition as choosing a pair of new riding leathers and wearing them in.

Theoden, a man who had married for love, content to remain a widower and keep his dead wife evergreen in his heart these many years, kept his own counsel on this matter whenever the proposition was mulled over in his presence. Theodred for his part fairly laughed - the little wench as his wife! That slip of a tomboy who would rather trade her skirts for trousers, shove her hair under a helmet and train with Eomer in the practice yard than learn how to show her assets off to best advantage and please a man after a hard few weeks on campaign? Hardly. Not that he put it that way in front of the council, of course. He simply put the equally valid point that since she had grown up in his household Eowyn was more like a sister to him and he couldn't really take the idea of marrying her seriously.

But tonight when she had been so lively and gracious and looked so beautiful... well, with a few ales under his belt the idea didn't seem altogether laughable.

Still, he thought, she had retired for the night now, a night that was still young for a warrior in his prime who would be back out on the borders far from female company within the week.

Having gone to his chambers to take his ceremonial garb off and don more comfortable clothing, Theodred grabbed a flagon of mead from the sideboard and strode off to the balcony to consider how best he might wish to continue his evening.

*****

Eowyn had let her maid, whom she usually had little use for, fuss and prattle over her as she disrobed her, carefully hung her birthday gown in her wardrobe, and dressed her in her nightgown. She even let her brush her hair for far more than the usual time she would stand for to let her gossip about the evening. Since both Theodred and Eomer were home with their forces, there was no shortage of young men for Freya to exclaim about and Eowyn was in such a good mood she was happy to join her.

But once the girl had left her - no doubt hoping to find a few of those same young men hanging about the kitchens looking for company - Eowyn found she couldn't settle down for sleep. There was a huge moon rising over the mountain range she could see from her window. She had always been a soft touch for a beautiful moon and this one seemed particularly to be calling to her. It wants to wish me a happy birthday, she smiled to herself, giving in to temptation. It was a warm night, so there was no need to bother with a wrap over her nightgown as she padded softly out of her room and onto the balcony at the end of the hallway.

Ah, yes. The moon looked ten times more beautiful out here, freed from the window frame and sailing proudly over the hushed night. Eowyn looked into the spell of its unearthly brightness and let the breeze wafting up from the vales below Edoras gently caress her.

The night breeze, my only lover, she thought involuntarily, then smiled at her foolishness. Come now, Eowyn, there's time enough for the real thing. It's not as though you haven't had offers.

"Where's that beautiful dress then?"

The deep voice purred at her just off to her left and she jumped, for one moment wondering if the moon had magicked her a lover out of thin air, recognition following in the next.

"Theodred," Eowyn smiled. "Hanging up in my bedroom, of course. And I should be tucked up next to it, but the moon is so lovely tonight."

He came towards her, a lazy smile on his handsome face.

"As were you, little wench."

"Not anymore?" she teased.

"Oh yes, still lovely," he said, casting an eye over her. "But that dress made me realise you've grown a few more womanly curves since I last looked at you properly."

"They're still there you know, dress or no dress," retorted Eowyn pertly. Since it was Theodred's ingrained behaviour to flirt with any female, maid or matron, one might as well have a little fun flirting back.

Theodred grinned wolfishly. "Oh ay, I can almost picture them now. But that voluminous shift affair you're wearing hides them from me. Perhaps if it were wet…"

He raised an eyebrow at her and Eowyn laughed.

"Cousin, how did you come to sound like such a dissolute old rake when you're only twenty-eight?"

He took a swig of his mead.

"Practice."

She laughed again. He found he was liking her laugh rather a lot.

They stood together looking over the parapet. He offered her the flagon, and she took it casually, although inside she somehow still felt as clandestine as though she were ten and he twenty and her parents were just around the corner. The sweet liquid slipped easily down her throat and she was glad it wasn't the fiery spirits he was just as likely to indulge in.

"Thank you for the new saddle, Theodred. I can't believe you had the leather imported all the way from Dol Amroth. So soft! I'm not even going to think about how much it cost you."

"Oh, I think my marshal's stipend can just about stretch to it - and anything to protect your delectable behind, my dear."

"Theodred," Eowyn giggled.

"No, no, it's precious baggage. And it's clear Dol Amrothian tanners have a few secrets ours are yet to discover. Either that or our cattle just have tougher hides up here in the high country far from the balmy sea air."

"Well, it's beautiful anyway. Like my behind."

They laughed and passed the flagon between them once more. A few moments later Eowyn was looking up at the moon again, but Theodred was looking at her. Looking at the tumbled river of golden tresses spilling onto pale, bare shoulders and down her back; at the soft white shift that did not quite entirely hide the shape of her body beneath as he had claimed, its only adornment some fine embroidery where its lacings tied just above the swell of her small breasts; at pale slender hands clasped upon the stone railing as though the moon called forth a prayer from her; and at her face, wide cheekbones dusted in moon-glow, blue-grey eyes contemplative, her brow smooth, free from the frown of judgement or frustration she all too often wore, lips slightly parted as though she might at any moment speak to the silvery orb above her. Lips that seemed paradoxically like marble in the moonlight yet promising to be soft the moment they were touched. Altogether a beauty so perfectly self-contained that to think to intrude upon it seemed almost a sacrilege, yet so alluring it was almost impossible not to.

Theodred could feel a debate going on inside himself with what he supposed was his better nature, but it was predictably brief and ended exactly as he knew it would, with his winning argument being that the chance of pleasure was always worth the risk of a slapped face.

"I have another present I was thinking perhaps I might like to give you, cousin," said he softly, "with your consent."

Eowyn blinked and turned her head, and with the lifting of her reverie realised that her shift did little to mask the warmth her cousin's body radiated next to hers.

"What present would require my consent, Theodred?"

He smiled, looking at her through half-closed eyelids.

"A kiss, little wench."

Her eyes widened momentarily, then she set her chin at him a little proudly.

"What makes you think I lack for kisses, cousin?"

Theodred chuckled. "I'm not talking about those clumsy embraces I've seen Thenhelm or Berwine giving you when you think no one can see you. I'm talking about a proper kiss."

Eowyn felt herself bridling somewhat at this slight upon the two youngest recruits to Theoden's guard, when, after all, the kisses she had from time to time shared with them, tentative as they were, had rather inflamed her.

"A proper kiss?" she queried. "A kiss is a kiss, Theodred. What's the difference?"

Theodred fixed her with a look, and his voice seemed to drop a notch deeper, if that were possible.

"If I kiss you, and you haven't been kissed properly before, you'll know."

"Really?" Eowyn tried to look nonchalant, but felt her heart beat just a fraction faster.

"Mmnn."

Theodred took the remaining half-step that separated them, and there he was, his tall strong body almost touching hers, only a light tunic, a flimsy nightgown and a whisper of air separating them. She was not the kind to back away, which he had to admit fired his blood just a little further.

"Theodred, you're drunk," Eowyn stated flatly.

"Oh, barely," he returned with an airy smile. "I was counselled very firmly that I had to behave myself at your party tonight and I think I did an admirable job."

"Counselled by whom?"

Theodred grinned. "Eomer."

Eowyn laughed despite herself. "Eomer!"

"Yes, the insolent cub. But as I thought his request was fair I complied. For your sake, my dear."

He lifted a strand of golden hair away from her face that the night breeze had set there, and she tried to ignore the slight tremor that ran through her at the touch of his strong fingers upon her cheek.

"Why must you still call him cub, Theodred? Eomer is twenty-two. He's a man, a very fine man."

She realised that, having set the stray tress in place, he was now gently stroking her hair.

"Old habits die hard. When we are old and grey he will still be the young cub and you my little wench."

His hand moving upon her hair had a mesmerising rhythm, and the blue eyes that watched her under lowered lids drew her in towards him with a power she felt throwing her alarmingly off balance.

"You won't live that long, Theodred, with your ways you'll be dead of the pox first."

His answering grin seemed to say to her he knew she was only hurling insults to cover her confusion.

"All more reason for me to have my pleasures while I can, little wench. Now about that kiss…"

"Theodred -"

He wasn't impatient, just determined.

"Oh come now, cousin, you know the greybeards on Father's council are all for us getting married one of these days. Surely we should get in a bit of practice."

Momentarily Eowyn felt on surer ground again.

"Oh, *men*," she scoffed, "What would they know about anything? Mareth thinks it's a terrible idea."

"Does she now," said Theodred, trying to be withering but curious despite himself. Mareth had been brought to Meduseld to be his wet nurse after his mother's death and had been instrumental in raising him in his younger years. A robust woman of many talents, she had remained at Meduseld ever since and was now the undisputed matriarch of the servants, holding forth nightly by the kitchen fire upon any and every subject of interest within the royal household and, of course, she took a particular interest in all things pertaining to Theodred.

"Yes," said Eowyn firmly. "She has said to me more than once - and I quote - 'to be sure I may favour him as though he were one of my own, but still it's no shadow of a lie to say he's as comely and winning as the day is long and lights up a room with his presence like the sun. And indeed you're a fine slip of flame yourself, my girl, don't misunderstand me. But there's frost on your fire, and he'll not like to cool himself upon the one trying to reach the other. When the time comes you'll need someone to woo you and gently melt that ice until there's nothing left but the glow within, but he's a one needs wooing himself. There's no lasting match to be made between the two of you, that's certain'."

Theodred paused, and Eowyn smiled because she knew she'd not only spoken truth but shown a talent for mimicking Mareth's lilting speech that surprised him.

"Well," he said at last, "Mareth's always been an uncannily perceptive judge of character, I'm not convinced she doesn't do a little witching on the side. But if we're not to wed let us at least have a little fun, that's my considered view." He took up a lock of Eowyn's golden hair and wound it round one of his fingers. "Now where were we?"

"Oh, you're just going to wear me down until I give in, are you?"

With his free hand Theodred suddenly grasped her wrist and swiftly drew her right to him, warm flesh against flesh. The hand that had been in her hair dropped down to her waist, and a moment later both were resting lightly upon the small of her back.

"No, I'm going to cut this short right now and tell you you're a coward if you can't risk a little kiss. A little, proper, kiss."

Damn Theodred, thought Eowyn. He and Eomer had learnt long ago they could always get her on a dare.

"Oh do your worst, cousin, I care not."

She lifted her heart-shaped face to his defiantly. What a stunning sight, Theodred thought, such freshly-minted beauty, such fierceness, such a refusal to be afraid. His blue eyes glittered with reflected moonlight as he pressed her body to him, broad hands starting to travel slowly up her back. They snaked into her heavy golden tresses and cradled her head, fingers softly starting to massage her scalp and neck. Eowyn felt a shiver run through her that she tried to ignore.

"Stop stalling, Theodred. A kiss you said."

His voice had dropped to a murmur. "Can't you tell, cousin? It's already begun."

More shivers.

He didn't break her gaze. One hand drifted around and gently feathered across her neck. How did a warrior's fingers, roughened by reins and the sword, possibly have a touch so soft, Eowyn wondered. And gods, he was impossibly beautiful. Those blue, blue eyes. His skin was tawny, the planes of his face strong over sculpted full lips, and the thick mane he was so conceited about spilled gloriously over his shoulders in several shades of blond. She wasn't really attracted to his beauty, it was too chiselled and too perfect, and he fussed over it like a girl, but up close with his full attention on her he was intoxicating.

His fingers lifted and slowly started an exploration that traced over the curve of one ear, the soft flesh of her earlobe, her cheek, the line of her jaw and her chin. As his fingertips continued travelling upon the other side of her face until their whole journey had been repeated, Eowyn felt herself wanting to lean into his touch but held herself still.

At last, and with a certain reverence that surprised her, those fingers caressed her lips. Then a thumb brushed her mouth slightly open, just enough to touch the wetness inside. Without even realising it she found her tongue lapping tentatively along the pad and Theodred smiled.

The smile sent sensations skittering along nerve endings that ended - well, there. She wondered if she closed her eyes on Theodred smiling at her whether the feelings would go away, but it didn't work. In fact she was realising it only intensified the feelings to have her eyes closed when suddenly the thumb was gone. Her eyelids flickered open, and when she looked back into those blue eyes they were soft, as unthinkably soft as the fingers now resting upon her bare shoulder. He had asked for her consent at the outset, and when she had resisted had taunted her until he got what he wanted, but now she sensed he was silently asking permission once more. The moment hung between them, their eyes locked, her chest rising and falling, his breathing deepening, their nostrils flared as they took in each other's scent.

She gave the tiniest of nods. He bent his head, his hair falling forward, and his warm, full, mouth was on hers at last. Just as soft as his fingers, just as soft as his eyes.

At first he just moved his lips upon hers, nuzzling her as their horses did to one another, only a thousand times more gently. Then she felt the tip of his tongue brushing along her upper lip, then the bottom one, and then he coaxed her mouth open wide enough to allow him inside. At first he claimed her with just his lips, his wide hands slipping past her shoulders to press her into his chest. When her own hands had slid up his broad back in reply, kneading the hard muscle beneath the fabric of his tunic, he deepened the kiss, his tongue tasting the inside of her mouth and seeking hers, a low growl escaping him when at last they met. Eowyn answered with a soft moan. It was the sound of acquiescence, of possession, that he had been waiting for, and now every move he made was a teasing, a cajoling, a seduction, bidding her to match him, to explore. She did not disappoint him with her responses either, quite the reverse, he found her returning ardour quite delightful, her eager mouth beneath his and the little pants and sighs issuing from it making the blood rush to his groin. Both his hands had now come up to clasp her behind her head and as his kisses and their shared passion seemed to spiral further and further inside each other, her small hands bunched in his tunic, hanging on for dear life.

But at last the moment came when they had to break apart, take some air and re-group their thoughts.

"So…." As his gaze drifted appreciatively over her form, Theodred's voice curled lazily around her like another hand stroking her, "how does that rate next to Thenhelm and Berwine, cousin?"

So that she might not satisfy his good opinion of himself too quickly, and because she was trying to calm her rapid breathing, Eowyn took a moment pretending to compare where there was no comparison. Theodred watched her with a damped-down expectancy. It's funny how there is always a little boy somewhere inside a man, she found herself thinking. She reached up both hands and softly stroked golden hair away from his temples.

"Shall I tell you what you want to hear?" she breathed. "Ay, your kisses leave theirs in the dust."

Theodred grinned.

"As well they should," she added, unable to resist, "you've got ten years on them, and I would hope your time in the whorehouses of Edoras hasn't been completely wasted."

His jaw dropped. "Why, you mouthy brat..."

Eowyn wound her arms round him and lifted her face to his with a winning smile.

"One way to shut me up."

"Great gods, you don't deserve it."

"Yes I do," she murmured, and leant up to kiss him instead. She knew she couldn't show him the finesse he had shown her, but she hoped enthusiasm for the task might count for something. When she reached her hands up into his mane to press his mouth harder against hers she was gratified to hear him rumble appreciatively in his throat. He captured the curve of her buttocks in his wide hands and pulled her in tighter against him, so that she felt the hard swelling length of his arousal against her belly.

She gave a little gasp at this. It was not so much that she had not felt the evidence of male desire before, it was just that both Thenhelm and Berwine, quite differing in personality in many ways, seemed united in their determination to show a certain amount of deference to the king's niece even in the throes of their passion for her. Whenever either kissed her and it chanced that a stiffened manhood pressed against her they both would hastily pull away as though defiling holy ground, while she, still shy and uncertain, did not have the confidence to let them know she did not mind at all. Theodred, although taking the utmost care with her inexperience, had no such inhibitions. He wanted her to know she was wanted, wanted her to feel the effect her female charms had upon him. But he was also clever, so clever, she realised. For after the initial contact of pressing her against him his hips did not move, but rather his tongue became their messenger, starting a sliding rhythm against her own that she knew instinctively mimicked that of bodies moving in pleasure. Between his tongue and her own imagination she was becoming unbearably aroused. It was no longer just a tingling between her legs that she felt, she knew she was moist there too, and she found herself starting to rub surreptitiously against his hardness, breaking their kiss so that she might run her mouth over his earlobes and along his neck, nibbling and licking, breathing him in and tasting his male flavour on her tongue. It was only when an unintentionally sharp nip at the tender curve of his neck and shoulder made him hiss that she came to her senses.

"Oh Theodred, sorry…" She looked at him slightly aghast but he was laughing softly. He dipped his head and captured her mouth in a kiss that made her head start spinning again. When they parted he stroked her hair and her cheek, his gaze wondering.

"Ah, little wench, there's a fire in you sure enough." His low voice was a caress all of its own. "So lovely… so passionate… and at least two fine lads willing to play the man for you… how can it be you are not bedded yet?"

Maybe because no one's sat me on their manhood like that, Eowyn thought, but she wasn't going to indulge him by mentioning it.

"Who says I am not?"

His smile, even while she could have knifed him for it, was infinitely tender.

"You have grown up under my eye, little wench, and I would know. When a maid has come in to her own at last she has a look to her. Her smile is a little more earthy. Her gait sways just a little more sensuously at the hips. And while she might let none other touch her but her lover, still she looks at all men a little differently for awhile, out from under the corner of her eyelids, because she knows at last for herself the pleasure mankind can give her."

Eowyn opened her mouth hoping some tart rejoinder might issue, but no sound came out.

"Ay, that look fades in time," Theodred conceded, "but I am never at the borders so long that I would not see it upon you had you taken yourself a lover whilst I was gone. Nay, little wench, you are the ripe bud aching to burst into its glory."

He dropped his mouth to one bare shoulder, lips travelling gently over her skin, soft and warm. She felt the promise of pleasure he was making to her, felt the power in him to which she would have to yield for that pleasure's sake, and for a moment everything hung in the balance. Then she felt her native pride well up in her, and yes, she knew, fear. And something else that was bedrock in her nature, the need to challenge the place others sought to put her in.

"And you are the fine summer sun at midday to make that happen, I suppose?"

Theodred's mouth stilled upon her abruptly. As his head came up, she saw his own jaw was set with as much pride as hers.

Damn this family, Eowyn thought vaguely.

"Mareth is right," Theodred bit out. "Frost upon the fire. Enough to freeze a pack of orcs with, let alone a single man who only wishes to taste of your loveliness. Know this, I am not one to enjoy taking something not willingly given. If your desires lie with your young striplings, cousin, far be it from me to intrude."

He let her go without ceremony and in one catlike movement retrieved his flagon of mead from the flagstones and took a long pull from it, turned away from her out into the night.

Eowyn hugged her arms around herself at the sudden temperature difference now his body was not shielding hers. Ay, Mareth is right indeed, she thought: here's a one needs wooing himself.

But she knew the sharpness of her own tongue. Another maiden might have spoken the same words she had and they would have been but a teasing encouragement to her cousin, only increasing his ardour and his determination to please her.

Nay, Mareth is right altogether, we are a pair ill-suited, she thought. But I did not mean to wound him so.

"Theodred…" She put a tentative hand upon his forearm.

He looked down at her. "Oh, are you still here? I could have sworn I heard Thenhelm calling for you. Or was it Berwine? I can barely tell their reedy voices apart."

She couldn't help but smile. She pulled his arm out from his body and tucked herself in against him, taking the flagon from his other hand and taking a sip before setting it down and pushing it along the balcony ledge away from them both.

"Theodred, you big idiot."

He tossed his mane. "She rejects me, then she insults me. I've half a mind to take that saddle back. Let her behind chafe on Rohan's inferior leather and see if I care."

She stole her arms around him and laid her head against his chest.

"Theodred…"

She felt his arms come up around her in return, and then his big hands were in her hair, stroking, forgiving, and asking forgiveness.

"I am sorry, little wench," he whispered. "I have brought this on myself, to allow myself to be so taken with you. I should never have pushed you, should not have even thought to touch you."

"I am glad you did, Theodred. I have never felt… well, I've never felt anything quite so nice before…"

Theodred laughed softly. "Nice… nice, she calls it…"

She pressed her cheek against his chest, feeling herself blushing before she even spoke the words. "And I know if I gave my maidenhead to you, you would be all the lover I could possibly ask for…"

He groaned softly, and squeezed her against him, and she could feel his manhood still hard inside his breeches. "Ay, that I would, little wench."

His hands cradled and massaged her scalp and neck once more.

"I would strip you bare," murmured Theodred, "and worship every inch of your sweet flesh with my hands and my mouth until you cried in ecstasy from my touch before we ever thought to lay together. And I would make you know me, little wench, know a man's body and the power you have over it so you might let go your maiden's fear of a man's strength by understanding it is your slave. And when our time came to join I would be so slow, so gentle, you would barely feel the pain while you ached for the pleasure. And the pleasure would come, ay nothing more certain in this world, it would fill you until you could barely breathe for it. I would treat you like a goddess."

Eowyn moaned softly, feeling the answering ache in her own loins.

"I know you would, Theodred, I know. But…"

What was it? she asked herself. Why had she not encouraged her eager wooers beyond mere kisses? Why was she in all likelihood going to walk away from the most beautiful man in Edoras when he had just outlined in exquisite detail the delights he longed wreak upon her body?

"I think… what I think is that… I want the man I lie with first to hold my whole soul in his hand, or none of it. Only that way will I feel safe. And you fall somewhere in between, cousin."

She placed a palm against his chest and cradled her head against it. "I'm sorry, Theodred, it probably doesn't make much sense."

"Not to my manhood," quipped Theodred raggedly, "but then it's not known for its intelligence." He placed a soft kiss against her hair. "But ay, little wench, the rest of me understands. You are a proud one, and either you will yield your power just enough to take your pleasure, or you will yield yourself without reserve to one you may share yourself with completely. When there is love between two people all that you risk giving away is returned to you tenfold, ay, this I know although I have only felt but a whisper of it myself."

Eowyn realised the hard press of Theodred's manhood against her had eased, yet if anything he held her more tightly, more intimately, than before.

His voice held a note she had never heard before, something world-weary, something pained. "But I would not be in such a hurry to go seeking love, little wench. It is a dangerous thing for women."

He fell silent, looking out into the night.

Eowyn clung to the strong trunk of her cousin's body, turning over what he had said in her mind. Without conscious thought she pulled loose the ties of his tunic so her palms could roam over the warm skin of his chest, not to tease but to draw comfort. As she moved upwards toward his neck her fingertips closed over the medallion he wore always, the arms of the House of Eorl in beaten gold. Through the intricately plaited leather band on which it hung was woven a long lock of his mother's fair hair. Elfhild, the woman he had never known but in the stories of those who had loved her, the one who had died giving him life. Everyone knew he harboured guilt for that and had striven all his young life to become what he was now, Rohan's bravest and boldest warrior, so that his father might have the least reason to regret the sacrifice she had made. And because Theodred's hard-living exploits were as legendary as his feats in battle, few would have credited what those closest to him knew, that whenever he was home from campaign he also busied himself with learning the tasks of governing, to which he was not naturally drawn, sitting in upon councils and courts of justice so that he might be well-prepared when the kingship should pass to him. Theoden was justly proud of his son. It was only in the matter of choosing a wife and providing heirs beyond himself for the throne that anyone might think - and indeed Theoden's councillors did think - he fell short of admirably fulfilling each and every duty of a prince.

"Your mother, Theodred…" said Eowyn hesitatingly, her fingers gently resting upon the woven band of the medallion, feeling the leather and the silken tress of hair. "Is this why you have yet to marry, indeed have seemed to refuse even to love all this time? Because you fear to lose what you might dare to cherish, as your father had to?"

Theodred looked down at her. She was worried she might rouse his anger, to venture so far into his heart, but his expression held no trace of it.

"I do not refuse to love, cousin. I have seen enough of it around me in my fellows to know there is no standing against it should it come." He took a slightly jagged breath inwards. "But I will own that to me it seems an easier thing to share pleasure with a woman and make sure she knows what herbs to beg from the wise-woman should she conceive than to love her and fear she might die bearing our child."

It was almost unnerving to face a Theodred reflective and bereft of his laughter. Eowyn reached a hand up to stroke his cheek.

"Is the risk so much to bear, Theodred? Less women are taken in childbed than men in battle, or the world would not be peopled. And yet day after day we must watch all of you ride away, not knowing if you will return."

Theodred's brow creased.

"If a woman loses her mate in battle, she knows he died defending her, defending Rohan - he died for a purpose. What has she to reproach herself with? If a woman dies giving birth, her mate must live the rest of his life knowing that but for his love she might still be alive."

Eowyn shook her head slightly.

"I do not think you can measure loss with such a yardstick. My mother had nothing to reproach herself with when our father fell. But grief took her to be with him within the year, she who had e'er then seemed so indomitable I still wake up some mornings disbelieving she can really be gone. She had such love for Eomer and me I still feel it with me every day, and yet she could not stay behind for us."

"Eowyn - " Theodred began, but Eowyn would not let herself be deflected. She was not trying to address the ache in her own heart, but the one in his.

"Theodred, I have no doubt your father felt the self-blame you speak of, and mourned your mother greatly. He does not hide from any of us that he has never loved another as he did her - indeed, he loves her still and looks to meeting her at the gates to the halls of his ancestors. And yet he is still here, hale and strong, tending his kingdom and taking in pride and pleasure in you, the son she died to give him."

Theodred's hand clasped over Eowyn's, her fingertips still touching the band of the medallion.

"I… I do not try to argue that he has had more sorrow than any other who has lost - "

"Nor I the opposite. I suppose all I mean to say is that the risks and misfortunes of battle and of childbearing are not the only ones of life, and no one can say whether any of us will be allowed to love for a moment or a lifetime… but that is no reason to avoid love altogether."

They held each other without words for awhile, then Eowyn felt herself being gently turned in Theodred's arms so that he could face her. His gaze was soft, admiring even. But she was glad when he smiled, because a world without Theodred's smile was not the one she was used to.

"So you would argue me into a wife before sunrise, little wench?"

Eowyn smiled too, then stood on tiptoe to whisper in his ear.

"Nay, I would only argue that you consider opening your heart, Theodred, instead of just your breeches."

Theodred laughed out loud. "I never knew what a saucy mouth you had upon you until this night. And I tell you something, cousin, that bodes well for your dealings with men if you would only resolve to embark upon them. So in my turn my counsel to you would be to let love come in its own sweet time and hurry up and let Thenhelm or Berwine see if they are up to the task of pleasuring you."

One strong hand was upon her back again, the other gently stroked her neck and jawline, and the look in his blue eyes set all the feelings he had called up in her that evening flaring again.

"And if they are not, little wench," purred Theodred, "come to me and we shall see if I cannot prove to be a little more adequate to your needs."

She couldn't help herself. "Theodred, you are preposterously vain."

He didn't pull away this time. "And the rough side of your tongue might as well be sandpaper, little wench. I don't know what Father's councillors are thinking, we would make a hideous couple."

Without waiting to ask permission this time his mouth softly closed over hers. And without caring that he had not done so, she let him slowly start to kiss the breath from her, and responded with equal tenderness, equal passion, unable to forego one last taste of him. While his hands roamed everywhere upon her hair, her shoulders, her back and her behind, his mouth travelled over her neck and collarbones, dipping lower to where her shift was gathered over her breasts. She knew he was aching to unlace the ties and to take their softness into his mouth and she could feel herself aching to let him, knowing if she did she was lost, she would want everything from him, she might as well let him take her there on the balcony flagstones.

With everything in her body screaming against the decision of her will, she pressed her hands against his chest.

"Stop, Theodred."

He stopped immediately, without reproach, taking a few deep breaths to steady himself.

"As you wish, cousin."

She looked at him, her blue-grey gaze reflecting the conflict within her. "I barely know if it is what I wish. But you are kin, Theodred, and somehow that makes me believe that anything between us must feel right beyond question or it should not happen. You are older, more experienced, and I own that frightens me. And I am proud, too proud no doubt." She felt the tears prickling the backs of her eyes "And I am probably a fool."

Theodred made a noise in his throat that was part laugh, part sigh, and part sympathy. He gathered her to him and laid his forehead against hers.

"No. You are Eowyn, and perfect the way you are." He gently kissed both her cheeks, her forehead, her lips. "Maybe not for me, curse the gods, but perfect all the same. You are Eowyn."

Her breath caught in her throat, and her voice wavered as she spoke.

"Not your little wench?"

"Ay, always my little wench," he said softly, "and everything else you are that I have seen this night: strong, proud, distressingly insightful for one so young, and by the gods, utterly desirable. You are Eowyn, and you will find your way."

He looked at her, his blue eyes quiescent, not wooing, not overpowering, just filled with love for his cousin. Eowyn reached up and brushed her fingertips over the lines of his ridiculously handsome face.

"Thank you for your kind words, Theodred."

He shook his mane and shrugged. "Novel. Not what I'm usually thanked for."

She smiled. "Thank you for everything else too… the kisses… the…"

She wasn't quite sure how to describe the rest of what he had given her.

"The saddle," Theodred put in helpfully.

She laughed. "Oh, yes, the saddle."

He took her hand and leaned in close to purr in her ear. "May all your riding be pleasurable, my lady."

Eowyn rolled her eyes and pushed him away. "I'll be sure to let you know, shall I?"

"Oh, I already know. I may only have a few pieces of the puzzle, but I can tell what the picture will be like, believe me."

If she didn't leave they might be here trading innuendos until moon-set. She leant up and kissed his cheek. "Good night, Theodred."

His smile was warm, and just a little wistful. "Happy birthday, little wench."

"It's probably not my birthday anymore."

He bent his head and brushed his lips across hers for the last time. "Happy everything then, Eowyn."

She nodded slowly. "The same to you, cousin."

Then she turned and flitted silently, half in reluctance, half in relief, back down the balcony and into the corridor where their chambers were.

For his part Theodred propped himself against the stone railing and retrieved his mead, wryly toasting the moon that had brought Eowyn out to him as he put the flagon to lips that still felt her touch upon them.

What an interesting evening it had been, indeed.

He let the sweet liquid run down his throat.

*****

As Eowyn turned into the corridor Eomer was just turning the handle on his own chamber opposite hers.

"Brother," she grinned, "don't tell me you are retiring already. It's your first night of leave."

The answering smile he gave her was tired around the edges. "It's been a hard few weeks, sister. I am happy simply to savour the softness of a real bed tonight. Anything softer can wait until the morrow."

Since their father's death Eomer's responsibilities had sat more heavily upon him. In the prime of his young manhood now, he was not as wild as Theodred had been at the same age, and indeed sometimes if Theodred was in a particularly reckless or irreverent mood Eomer almost seemed the elder of the two.

"Love, I'm sorry," said Eowyn softly. "You know I would be by your side every day out there if Theoden would allow it."

"Ay," said Eomer, knowing well his sister's frustration at being kept at home, and sympathising with it. "But then I would always be fearing to lose you."

"Indeed. You would know how I feel every time you ride from Edoras," Eowyn returned.

His protectiveness of her was ever a bone of contention between them, a dilemma that was not going to be resolved this night any more than on another. Eomer merely nodded in acknowledgement.

"So what have you been doing out on the balcony, sister? I thought you went to bed an hour since."

"Oh, I've been out looking at the moon. It's so beautiful and full tonight." Even a half-truth when she told it to Eomer felt like a lie. He was the person she loved most in the world, and deserved only her honesty. But she knew what his reaction would be if she let slip all of what she'd been up to out there, and was frankly too tired to wish to deal with it.

However, Theodred, having drained the contents of a flagon that had not been full when he brought it out, chose this moment to appear in the balcony doorway. When he saw Eowyn and Eomer there together his stride broke momentarily but he quickly recovered it and continued towards them, giving them both a jaunty salute.

"Good evening, cousins. There's a beautiful moon out there if anyone's interested, but I'm off to bed."

He smiled smoothly at them both and disappeared into his own chamber further down the corridor, but Eomer did not miss the nervous glance Eowyn couldn't help throwing at Theodred as he went past. As soon as Theodred's chamber door clicked shut he fixed her with a look. They both knew it was an enclosed balcony, with no other entrances but this one, and Eowyn couldn't possibly have been out there without knowing Theodred was there also.

"It seems to me watching the moon might not have been all you were doing out on the balcony, sister."

She knew there was no point trying to deny it, but merely sighed. "Do you think we could have this conversation in the morning?"

Eomer opened his chamber door and held it open for her.

"It will be but a matter of a few moments, I assure you."

Eowyn glared at him, but walked inside the room. Brother and sister were equally matched in determination and she knew refusing to talk now would merely be delaying the inevitable. She sat down on his bed and folded her hands resignedly. Eomer took a few paces up and down in front of her rubbing at the crease between his brows before sitting beside her, tugging a hand through his mane.

"I knew it could only be a matter of time before he made a play for you…"

"Oh, you assume this is the first time, do you?" Eowyn challenged automatically.

Eomer rolled his eyes. "Yes, it's the first time. If it had happened before it's true I would never hear a word about it from you. And Theodred would be determined I would never hear about it from him. But then he would get drunk and end up telling someone about it, who would tell someone else and so on and so on. Believe me, I would know within the week."

"*Men*," muttered Eowyn under her breath. "Anyway what do you mean, 'only a matter of time'?"

"Oh come, sister. We all know Theodred can't resist a beautiful woman. And in case you hadn't noticed it, you have become a beautiful woman, Eowyn. I've always assumed the fact that you are kin wouldn't really weigh in the balance against that, and that he would doubtless one day try his luck at seducing you. He probably starting laying plans tonight from the moment he saw you in that dress."

She was a little meeker now. "I… don't think that was really his intention, Eomer. He didn't know I was going to come out to look at the moon. We were just talking a little, joking, drinking his mead - and then I guess he just thought it would be nice to kiss me. He didn't put any pressure on me for anything else."

She looked away, then down at her lap, and it was clear to Eomer that his sister hadn't been completely impervious to their cousin's charms, pressure or no, for all that he did not care to know the details.

He took one of her hands in both his.

"Sister, I simply cannot see a liaison between the two of you ending in anything but pain. You are totally wrong for each other. Sooner or later you would tire of his vanity or he of your wildcat's claws and one of you would end up getting hurt."

"You mean me," said Eowyn tonelessly.

"No, love, I really don't. Ay, I would hate it to be you, I would hate for you to wake up in his arms one morning and realise you were just one of his conquests. But there's just as much risk of it going the other way. Theodred loves you as his kin, and I'm fairly convinced that's more love already than he has ever allowed himself to feel for any woman he has ever lain with. You are already under his guard, Eowyn, and that could be as dangerous to him as his worldliness and his flippancy and his wandering eye might be to you. I think about the two of you together and all I can see is the pair of you trying to live under the same roof as lovers who have parted. Kin. Pain. Mess."

As Eowyn took on board all he said, still she shook her head slowly in wonder.

"How long have you been pondering all this in that brain of yours, brother?"

He shrugged. "I can't say exactly - your loveliness has been growing daily for quite some time now."

"Eomer!"

"I might be your brother, Eowyn, but I've got eyes. And I've got ears that hear the whisperings of half the men around here. And I suppose if Mother were still with us it would be her task to look to the care of your heart instead of mine, but she is not."

"Eomer…" She leant forward and kissed his dear, serious, beloved face, then they sat together in silence for awhile, during which time Eowyn's thoughts idly but inexorably strayed back to all the breathless moments of delight that had been hers out on the balcony under the moonlight that evening, and to the man who had lavished them upon her.

"Eomer?"

"Hmmn?"

"What if… what if I just wanted to lay with him the once… to get it over with… with someone who knows what they're doing?"

Eomer cleared his throat. "Well, apart from the fact that I've never heard of a woman who only wanted to lay with Theodred the once…" He sighed. "Maybe I'm wrong to discourage you from him. Who am I to say you can't have a slice of the most handsome and desired man in Rohan if he offers it to you on a plate. I don't suppose you could be in more experienced hands if pleasure is all you want. But I love you both and I fear to see either of you hurt."

Eowyn nodded slowly. All that love and care in her brother. She was blessed to have him.

"Theodred's not so handsome, anyway," she mumbled.

Eomer laughed out loud.

"How much wine did you drink tonight, sister?"

"No, I mean it. If a brace of women sat down to design the ideal man, ay, he would look like Theodred, with his blue, blue eyes and his perfect cheekbones and his hair falling just so and his body with all its muscles in the right places…"

"…I think you've just defeated your own argument, Eowyn…"

"…but it's too much, it's *too* handsome. Sometime it's almost like he's not real."

"I bet he felt real enough out on the balcony."

"Shut up, I'm trying to give you a compliment. *You* are real, Eomer, with your frown line between your brows, and your brown eyes that don't know how to hide when you are happy or sad but sometimes look fierce when you don't mean it, and your hair that always falls out of its ties. You are not suave, my brother, but you are rugged and stalwart and a woman could depend on you."

"I must remember to lay this all before the next pretty maiden who is choosing between me and Theodred. Perhaps it would get me over the line for once."

"You do not want for lovers, Eomer."

"Only the one."

Eowyn rose and stood by her brother, running a hand through the shaggy hair that did not fall just so like Theodred's and cradling his head against her. At an age when most of his fellows were still playing the field or just beginning to think about settling down with their sweethearts, Eomer had both truly loved and truly lost, his first beloved dead and in the cold ground these several years. The pain sat so deeply in his heart he rarely mentioned her, even glancingly like this. Eowyn felt his arms circle her waist.

"You will love again, Eomer, I know you will."

"Maybe, sister."

"I have care of your heart as much as you have of mine," she said softly. "You must trust me."

He looked up at her. "In all things."

She touched his cheek briefly. They had Theoden and Theodred's steadfast love, the love of their comrades and of their people, but sometimes, with their parents gone, it felt like they only truly had each other.

At last Eowyn released her brother and dropped a kiss on the top of his head. "Good night, Eomer."

"Good night, Eowyn. I'm sorry I had not a birthday present for you today."

"You only got back this morning. That you're here is gift enough."

"We'll go to the markets on the morrow. Maybe a new saddle and blanket to go with that fancy saddle Theodred gave you."

"Or some jewellery," Eowyn smiled, "or a kitten… or a crystal ball…"

Eomer grinned. "I'm sure we'll find something."

Eowyn headed for the door, then turned back.

"Eomer?"

"Mmmn?"

"If not Theodred… would you say Thenhelm or Berwine?"

"Oh… um… well, Thenhelm's quite seriously in love with you. You could put him out of his misery."

Eowyn's eyes widened. "Really? Well, that won't do. Would it not hurt him more in the end if I lie with him and don't wish for anything further?"

Eomer chuckled. "You could strike a blow on behalf of all womankind for the times they've suffered the same behaviour from men."

"Nay, he is too sweet."

"And sweet is not for you, sister. Not without more strength than Thenhelm has, anyway."

"Berwine then?"

"What about him?"

"How does he feel about me?"

"How do you feel about him?" Eomer hedged.

"Well, he's nice looking and he makes me laugh, but I'm not in love with him. You can tell me the truth."

"Alright then… you are not the only woman under his eye. But you are certainly at the top of a short list."

Eowyn shrugged. "Hmmn. Not very romantic, but food for thought. Well, good night."

She opened the door, and Eomer called after her. "If Theodred has snuck into your bed, kick him out, sister. You need a night to think about things."

She laughed over her shoulder. "So full of advice, big brother."

But she lifted the latch on her own chamber-door softly. She wouldn't put it past Theodred.

Her bed was empty.

Better that way.

But she couldn't help re-living her balcony outing in rather vivid detail before she fell asleep.

*****

THE END

Back to the Birthday Challenge Menu


If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Miranda Bell