Unspoken

By legolasluvrlotr18

Rated PG-13 for sexuality and thematic elements

Summary: “What are you doing here?” “This,” he murmured, attaching his lips to hers. She was surprised by his actions but could not deny that she had always wanted this… that she still wanted this…

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Disclaimer: Oh yeah, I don’t own ANYTHING. I don’t own the characters, I’m not Tolkien, and I don’t own Tony Braxton’s “Talking in His Sleep” either. And damn, I didn’t make any money off of this. STOP INTERROGATING ME!

A/N: I know this sucks but I felt compelled to write it. I wrote this a little bit differently than all my other songfics (Sorry, Megan!) , and I’m not really too thrilled with the way this came out. When you review, just tell me how bad it sucked and what I should do to fix it… besides removing it. PLEASE REVIEW- It would mean the absolute world to me if you did.

Luv always

Meg AKA DramaQueen

P.S. the bold words are the lyrics. Like duh.

P.P.S. eOwYn SuX, I think you’ll like the ending.

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So you know everything about your lover…

Wanna bet?

It had been no more than a year since Aragorn had devoted his life and gave his heart to his beloved Arwen- he loved her more than anyone had a right to love anything. He knew that she reciprocated his feelings, and she had even given birth to his son and heir, Eldarion.

But the wife of his Steward had been far too tempting…

Éowyn sat alone at the desk in the bedroom she shared with Faramir, apparently reading a book, but she had been on page forty-seven for over an hour now. Deep in her heart, she knew that soon she would have to tell him… tell him what was sure to break his heart… tell him that she did not love him as he loved her… tell him that she was still in love with the King…

There was a knock on the door. “Come in,” said Éowyn, not removing her gaze from the book.

It was not whom she had expected.

“Aragorn.” She stood as he slowly advanced. “What are you doing here?”

“This,” he murmured, attaching his lips to hers and pushing her slightly backwards. She was surprised by his actions but could not deny that she had always wanted this… that she still wanted this… that she needed him now…

He kissed her with even more fire and force as he pierced her against the mattress, expertly unfastening the buttons down the back of her dress. “Éowyn, oh I need you… I can’t stand it anymore… be with me…”

One question would not escape her thoughts. “What of Arwen?”

Aragorn pulled back and looked into her icy eyes, flashing her a seductive smile. “What of her?”

Later that night, Arwen sat up in the bed she shared with him as she felt a shift of weight. She knew Aragorn had just arrived, but within moments he was asleep and began to whisper.

“Éowyn, oh, Éowyn…” Arwen was an intelligent elf- it did not take her long to place together the jagged pieces.

Éowyn, no longer a woman but only a mere ghost, began walking through the marble halls, the familiar light gone from her eyes. She wasn’t ready to yet admit it, but inside she knew it.

The affair, okay?

She didn’t know what to do anymore.

Arwen seemed not to matter to Aragorn as Éowyn was writhing beneath him and his mouth was devouring her flesh. And Faramir didn’t seem to be in her mind either.

Then she made the mistake of looking into his eyes. The truth in both their eyes could not be denied.

“Éowyn, I love you,” Aragorn whispered, knowing full well that he was lying. Éowyn was only there for him to have his way with her- a mere object of lust, even if he used to feel something for her. She knew it as well as he did.

He’s corrupt.

But, “I love you too.”

As Aragorn awoke to the sound of Eldarion giggling, he saw Arwen sitting at the white oak desk by the corner window, her diary in her lap. He yawned, saying with a smile, “Good morning, my love.”

She wasn’t smiling. Something wasn’t right.

Concern washed over his face. “Arwen, are you well?”

What do I do?
What do I say?

fatigued.

Yes, she knew that the worst of it was the fatigue. She had sat up for a week now, listening to the sounds of Aragorn’s dreams. She knew as soon as she heard him that these were not just dreams of longing or unordered visions- she knew that he was reliving past events.

She sighed and feigned a smile. “Well, my lord. Yes, I am well.”

She returned to scribbling in her diary as Aragorn pulled on a pair of leggings and went to the infant’s crib, picking up Eldarion and throwing him up in the air, laughing as the baby gurgled.

… such a petty crime of sexual indiscretion.

But I could
All the things that he says…

That night he had not been at his throne, with Faramir in council, or asleep as Arwen breastfed Eldarion, put him to sleep, disrobed, and donned her light nightdress. Aragorn came to her side hours later, hot and softly panting, smelling of Rohirric perfume- Éowyn’s Rohirric perfume. Arwen pretended to not even notice his presence as he undressed and slipped into bed next to her.

He was asleep in moments, and then, with an undeniable smile on his lips, “Éowyn… quit teasing… stop torturing me… I need you…”

There he goes again.

when you’re married.

Éowyn felt cold in the heat of her bed as she heard the door lock and Faramir quietly walk in.

Faramir smiled at her as he threw off his leather suit and armor, acquiring that amorous, yearning look in his eyes as he often did when he saw his wife naked in their bed. He crawled up and straddled himself over her, affectionately nipping at her neck. No words can describe the heavy, searing, painful guilt that she felt in the pits of her stomach in that one moment.

She began asking herself questions, as she often did since the liaison began, unsure of herself.

Tell me something.

Why is it that the men are forgiven And the women aren’t?

Éowyn knew that soon, Arwen would tell Aragorn that all had been forgiven and forgotten, left in the past, and that he still wanted to be at his side, bear his children, and be his own until they both passed into the next world. But Faramir would be able to replace Éowyn so quickly that her head would spin.

So she allowed Faramir to take her while he still would.

Arwen too was questioning herself, her judgements, her reactions, and herself in general, all as he groaned, “Oh Éowyn, Éowyn I want you… hmm…”

I don’t know, maybe I should forgive him.

Not

She awoke early, as if she had slept much at all, and began scribbling down thoughts in her diary again.

The promises he made said we’d be together for always.

“Éowyn…”

Arwen laughed lightly, the contempt not as obvious as it should’ve been.

He’s such a liar.

He’s talking again.

Again, Éowyn found herself walking aimlessly through the halls of the Citadel through the gray light of sunrise, clutching the stomach that was carrying someone’s baby, though whose it was she could not say.

Guilty secrets- they’re haunting my life.

Aragorn still murmured the name of the Stewardess as he slept.

Arwen, sitting up with her diary, gave a light contemptuous giggle. ” And he doesn’t even know that I know. ”

Can you hear him?

Can you keep a secret?

Éowyn could no longer stand it. Faramir was with Aragorn in council, so while no one was there, she went into her drawer, wielding her sword.

She sat on the bed, tears pouring from her eyes.

Please, somebody, help me.

She remembered Arwen, her dear friend, whom she had certainly hurt. She had welcomed Éowyn into the kingdom, befriended her, and trusted her.

Arwen had trusted her. And she had betrayed that trust.

Faramir. Faramir loved her with all his heart. When she was young, Éowyn had always viewed marriage as a trap, a cage where the man would rule over her, but Faramir truly loved her and showed her true compassion.

Aragorn- she had a somewhat of a girlish crush on him ever since she first saw him in Meduseld. Despite the slight affection she felt for Faramir, she still loved Aragorn.

She stopped. Loved? Yes, she did love him.

But if he had reciprocated my feelings, he would not have married Arwen.

But he slept with me. He has slept with me over and over.

But Arwen had Aragorn’s son.

Tears fell from Éowyn’s eyes.

She looked at her stomach and apologized to the child within her womb.

Slowly, she delicately placed the blade against her left wrist… Then she pressed it down sharply and slid it across…