Chapter 21: Recollection

15 July 3019 (Third Age), Edoras

“I squealed.”

“It was a high-pitched greeting.”

“No. I squealed. Like a yearling girl.”

“Well, you are a girl.”

“I’m a woman. And what’s more...”

“Hush. Fine. You squealed. So did I. Or are you about to argue that I’m not a woman either?”

“Certainly not while you’re wearing that.“

“Okay, then. Let’s stop mocking your frighteningly girlish squeal and talk about... hey!“

“I warn you that I have a dozen cushions here, and will throw each and every one of them at you if necessary.”

“Cushions? That’s the best the mighty warrior’s got?”

“Don’t underestimate the weaponry available to a woman of my skill.”

“Fine. You squealed in a mature, powerful, womanly way, and then... HEY!“

“Eleven more to go. Keep talking.”

The knock had, uncharacteristically, come at an opportune time. She was fully dressed, she’d lunched, and she wasn’t in the midst of some erotic decadence (which happened too often) or writing in her journal (which didn’t happen often enough). The latter she deemed in greater need of secrecy than passions of the flesh, but a request for her presence while in the throes of both was almost impossible to satisfy without raising undue suspicion over the delay and her disheveled appearance in the aftermath. Self-pleasure always accompanied her autobiographical reminiscences; not only were most of the memories sexual, but orgasms were necessary for the opening and closing of her magical box. She was growing worried that her brother suspected her of being a barely functional lunatic, for no one stopped by more often and less announced than he, and hastening to the door after frenzied concealment of her journals, her sex toys, and her body always left her in a wild-eyed, unkempt state.

So when she opened the door it was with an over-exaggerated air of serene equanimity. She was looking forward to greeting Éomer with utter placidity, just to enjoy the look of surprise on his face. But neither the King nor her guard were at the door.

Elfi was.

And Éowyn squealed.

Hugs followed their (mutual) squeals. Not the chaste half-hugs of acquaintances, nor the comforting embraces of family, but the all-consuming, body-crushing press of close friends too-long parted. The urge to say a million different things rushed into Éowyn’s mind. But for now, all she did was hold Elfi tighter, as she in turn was enveloped in a circle of strong emotion that endured over many long minutes’ silence.

No words had yet been uttered when she led them to a pair of nearby settees arranged at right angles to each other. A rich, heady red wine was produced... Éowyn had come to consider alcohol one of the less tempting lubricants for her literary activities ... and they sat, sipping and staring at each other, bursting with words and feelings still unsaid.

Trivial banter seemed inadequate to the fullness of her heart, but she wasn’t ready for anything deep or meaningful, and so Éowyn commenced by complaining that she’d squealed.

No more cushions were flung; the humorous exchange broke whatever tension had temporarily damned their converse. In its place were smiles, satisfaction and ... on Éowyn’s face ... a growing disbelief as she studied her companion in more detail.

“Elfi, I’m beyond mere words with joy at seeing you again. Is your brother here too? Did you get my most recent letter? What brings you to Edoras?”

“To your first two questions, yes and yes! As for why we’re here: we’ve need of a great number of things that can all, and in some cases only, be acquired here. Today it’s a new horse, or at least one not too broken with age to serve our purposes, and so Théo is in the lower stables with our poor, decrepit beast right now, attempting without much hope to trade for a younger one that we can afford. My responsibilities don’t begin in earnest until tomorrow, and so today I’m flouncing about the city in the very finest fashions. Well ... to tell the truth, from our lodgings at the communal guesthouse I flounced straight here. I should unquestionably feel both guilty and a terrible fraud, but mostly I feel immensely grateful and incredibly beautiful.”

“You do, indeed, look ravishing.” And inviting ravishment, Éowyn thought to herself. Elfi was wearing a stunningly form-fitting, absurdly revealing dress that hugged her bounteous curves. It was pristinely white, save for delicate golden embroidery around the bodice and sleeves. A dangerous expanse of cleavage was on display, but no less enticing was the way it clung to her torso and hips, revealing every motion and curve of her body within its tight sheath. It was impossible to imagine that she could wear anything beneath it. The bottom of the skirt was asymmetrical, exposing the enticing softness of a calf; a minor yet atypical display of flesh for Rohan’s conservative populace.

It was one of several dresses that Éowyn ordered made for (and anonymously delivered to, though she harbored no illusions that the benefactor would remain unguessed) Elfi upon her return to Rohan, fulfilling the promise she’d made at Dunharrow in a much more satisfying way. It was vaguely derived from the style of dress she’d worn as a disguise, and she’d helped design and model it while Fréolaf sewed, believing it exceptionally comely — as befitted the exquisite young woman — but only slightly naughty. It looked profoundly different on someone as voluptuous as Elfi.

The younger woman beamed. “I wish I could find the right person to thank.”

Éowyn had apparently forgotten how irresistibly curvy the young woman was — she marveled at just how badly she’d underestimated Elfi’s chest size while consulting with Fréolaf — and how her body almost literally radiated sex. Her golden hair was neither tied nor woven about her head, as Éowyn might have done while wearing a dress in this style, but instead fell about her shoulders in deliciously unkempt curls, as if she’d just risen from bed and was ready to fall back into one without delay. Full lips, an inviting and emotionally open face, lush beauty from head to toe ... one would have to be dead indeed to not be immediately enraptured by such a vision. And I’m far from dead. I guess I also forgot that I’m quite capable of attraction to women, or at least this woman. So much for avoiding temptation.

“I obviously made a terrible mistake with that dress.”

“Oh, no! I adore it,” answered Elfi, drawing a finger along the embroidery and, teasingly, letting it rest for a moment on the upper swell of her breast.

Éowyn willed herself to keep her gaze elevated above the neckline. “Still...”

“Or do you mean you erred because it’s white, the color of purity?” She wore a wicked grin as she overemphasized the final word, and Éowyn put down a reflexive wince at the all-too-plain parallel. I continue to wear white most of the time, when for the sake of symbolism I should wear anything but. Unlike me, however, Elfi doesn’t hide who she really is. Just the one who she loves above all.

“That dress was meant to be worn with the accompanying coat, you know.”

“Was it?” Her fingers still teased the edge of her bodice. “I must have misplaced it somewhere. Anyway, it’s summer. Who wants to hide underneath a coat?”

“How in the world did you make it to Meduseld unmolested?”

“Who says I did? For that matter, who says I wanted to?” At the raw outrageousness of her answer, they burst into peals of shared laughter. “Your guards, for example...”

“You didn’t! Elfi!”

“Don’t worry, I only used my feminine wiles to send them down the hall for a bit. I wanted to surprise you. But they’re a handsome pair, and I’m really hoping one of them makes a concerted effort to bar my entry next time. Some sort of physical struggle might even be required.”

When Éowyn recovered from her half-admiring, half-exasperated stuttering, she attempted to ask a more probing question, though it quickly trailed off into uncertainty. “Aside from flirting with my guards, have you ... have you actually... ?”

Elfi smiled beatifically. “If you really must know, my inquisitive friend: I have. Not here, though. Well,” she added with a wink, “not yet. But since we last saw each other I’ve contributed to the happiness, well-being, and exhaustion of a number of Rohan’s most energetic colts in a heartfelt personal mission to turn them into stallions.” She squirmed a bit at the memories. “And their energy has sustained me in compensatory fashion. Perhaps I should also admit to entertaining the occasional filly as well,” she continued, shrugging at Éowyn’s elevated eyebrow. “As I’ve said to you before, I enjoy sex. A lot. And there’s little point in pretending that this body isn’t rather obviously built for it, is there? Besides, we should all do our part for our people if we’re lucky enough to blessed with useful talents, and it would be terribly selfish of me to shirk my responsibilities to others and to the realm, wouldn’t it?”

Éowyn could only shake her head in amazement.

“But I think that what you’re really after are details. Am I right?”

She had the good grace to blush and clasp her hands in her lap before nodding. Perhaps hearing of someone else’s uncomplicated and unfettered sexual exploits will, at least for a while, distract me from my own. And I might be able to make use of the stories later, rather than dwelling on the images of people I really shouldn’t be thinking about.

Some might have been stunned at the frank bawdiness of Elfi’s tales. Éowyn, however, listened intently, wriggling as each anecdote left its tingling mark in her loins.

Economic necessity had forced Elfi and Théo to live and work separately for a time. While Théo continued to manage as much of their family home and farm as he could on his own, Elfi moved to a nearby town and worked at a Riders’ training school. As she grasped the inevitable implications, Éowyn’s hand flew to her face. “You didn’t!”

“I most certainly did.”

“You were like raw meat before a pack of starving wargs, weren’t you?”

“Mmmm ... you’re so very right! Though I prefer to think of myself as the warg and them as the raw meat.” Éowyn guffawed as she continued. “I tell you truly that limping into work some mornings was difficult, though in retrospect entirely worth it.”

She went on to describe, in meticulous detail, bedding a long procession of tremulous virgins and near-virgins, while generally avoiding more confident or experienced young men. “I considered it my duty to aid in their education. After all, it was a training school. Admittedly, some of them required a lot of practice...”

“You mean you did.”

“Repetition is the key to learning,” she countered to Éowyn’s gleeful snort. “The surprise, at least for me, was that it wasn’t just young men. I mean, I obviously love sleeping with women as well, but I didn’t really expect to find so many at a camp for Riders.”

Éowyn sighed, though she knew Elfi didn’t mean to strike so close to home. It had long been her most cherished hope to introduce female Riders into Rohan’s army — self-serving though that desire might once have been — but when she brought it up her brother forcefully (though, to his credit, privately) argued against it, cautioning that the change she sought would take time, and would have to begin with efforts directed far in advance of the training schools, lest the inevitable resistance to so dramatic a societal upheaval became a distraction that could disrupt the Éoherë. Grudgingly, she agreed that he was probably right — despite her own example, the Rohirrim weren’t yet ready to accept women as coequal fighters — but whenever she wasn’t writing or self-pleasuring much of her free time was spent planning how this might be accomplished with the least possible disruption to their society. She remained confident it would happen one day, though she was no longer sure it would be in her lifetime.

Elfi reached out to lay a hand on her arm. “I can guess what your feelings on this matter must be, my brave and sexy warrior. Sadly, I don’t mean in the way you desire. But as untutored in the erotic arts as many of the trainees were, some had girlfriends after all, and they were frequently accompanied by other women who obviously hoped to attach themselves to a promising young Rider. On the rare occasions I was bereft of nocturnal company I would socialize with them, doing my best to empathize with their tales of romance, hope, and loneliness. I suppose I do know about two of the three all too well. Anyway, one night — after a fair bit of drinking — one of those girlfriends approached me privately and asked if I knew much about sex, for she found relations with her partner perpetually unsatisfying.” Elfi blushed a bit, looking down. “I’m afraid one thing led to another, but she eventually had her answer. And I suppose there must have been whispers in the aftermath, for several others came to me seeking the same answer.”

“Pardon me for asking, but did you ever accidentally — or even deliberately — ‘educate’ both halves of a couple?”

Elfi blushed more intensely. “I don’t know, but that lack of knowledge was somewhat deliberate. I tried to avoid men I knew to be encoupled, though I’ll shamefacedly admit that I didn’t always inquire as deeply as I might have. But I also feared that if I did, I’d then be enticed to explore the possibilities of group education ... if you know what I mean. My few experiences with that,” she looked up, eyes shining, “have been so intense than I don’t know if I wish to share those sensations with just anyone.”

“There was another, then?” Éowyn probed.

She nodded. “Yes. Possibly the most dangerous entanglement I’ve yet engaged in, save our night together. Though that was dangerous for entirely different reasons. Two of the trainees were twins ... ridiculously attractive, by the way ... and bunked together. One approached me with the usual charming but incompetent flirting, and in a spontaneous burst of outrageous whimsy I answered that I’d accept if his brother was involved. I figured he’d say no, I’d string him along a while longer just for the sport of it, and then I’d relent and have my way with him. I was shocked when he immediately agreed, and it made me wonder ... well, it made me wonder a lot of things.” She stopped, her face red.

“But...” Éowyn prompted, buzzing at the memory of her recent encounter with the Rangers.

“I went to their room, and ... well, I’ll spare you all the details of the foreplay, but I was naked and on my knees far sooner than even I expected. Something about the situation just made me want to act like a complete slut, and in my case that’s a dangerous thing. Taking one into my mouth, then the other ... for a few minutes I even tried both at the same time, which was a jaw-stretcher I won’t soon forget! They didn’t seem to mind that, either, which ... Well, anyway, they came pretty quickly the first time, but when I finished off the second one and turned to see that his brother was harder than ever, it’s like I went unconscious with lust. I gave up on any sort of guidance other than a lot of moaning and clawing and hair-grabbing, and suddenly their hands and mouths and tongues and fingers were all over my body, trading places between my thighs, their cocks in my hands and in my mouth and between my breasts ... just an insane blur of friction and sensation. I barely held onto enough wisdom to keep them on the edge while I treated myself to orgasm after orgasm... Éowyn, I came so much ... but I was spiraling out of control, and I could feel it. I knew that once they started fucking me I’d be utterly beholden to their every sexual whim, and for some reason I couldn’t identify that made me afraid.”

“In the aftermath, it’s a little bit clearer. They were virile but inexperienced young men that I’d eagerly, if somewhat unwisely, pushed beyond the boundaries of their control. I could see the crazed lust in their eyes, and for the first time in my experience it seemed more threatening than exciting. Not violent — I didn’t actually think they were going to hurt me, at least not on purpose — but more than I could arrest if I needed or wanted to. You wouldn’t have been in danger, for your entire body is a weapon and you have endless training in such matters. I don’t, and I would have been easily overpowered by the two of them.”

“But,” Éowyn wondered, leaning forward in her seat, “I’m still not clear on what you were actually afraid of. You were there to have sex with two men, right? What did you expect would happen?” Why am I interrogating her all of a sudden? Is it my own guilt over seducing Celedur and Arvegil and then changing my mind midstream?

Elfi’s initial expression of surprise at the uncharacteristically confrontational tone softened as she shrugged. “That’s the frustrating part: I don’t know. All I can say for sure is that it was a gut feeling, and I’ve learned to trust those. Especially when when it comes to sex. Intuition has usually served me well, as you may remember.”

Éowyn blushed a bit, but nodded in assent. She’s right. Everything I wanted ... everything I needed ... she saw even before I did. She’d been rapt at the tale of Elfi’s fright, distracted by her own arousal and annoyed at her own frustration over a lost opportunity, but now she wanted to hear the denouement. “So what did you do?”

“I sucked them both off again, as quickly as possible. They seemed surprised, but I ... well, I made sure they had no reason to complain. Still, I’d driven them into such a frenzy and then held them at bay for so long that I struggled to contain the quantity, especially because I arranged it so they came within seconds of each other. Bad planning on my part, for I didn’t have time to swallow in between. I hastily threw on my clothes and fled to my room while still carrying a mouthful of semen that sloshed back and forth as I ran. I don’t know why I didn’t just spit it out, but I guess I felt guilty or something. In fact,” she said with a smile of satisfaction, “I came again while I ran, simply from the insane decadence of it. Judging by your greedy consumption when we were together I don’t have anything approaching your deep adoration for that particular beverage,” Éowyn blushed furiously, “but I swallow because I like pleasing my partners. And even though they weren’t around to see it, I felt like I owed it to them. But this time it was different. It was like strong drink and left me dazed, delirious, and incredibly horny for hours, until exhaustion and sleep finally took me.”

“So why did I run? I’ve come up with lots of reasons, though I don’t know if any are correct. Once, several years ago, I fooled around with three women at the same time, and though we didn’t do all that much it didn’t scare me at all. So maybe it’s that they were men? Maybe I feel like I can only manage one man at a time. Or maybe I just wasn’t ready, and one day I will be. But the answer that feels most right is that I don’t like sex to feel completely out of my control.” Suddenly, she giggled. “I do like being on top, after all. Well, anyway, at this point I’m not sure it matters what’s true. If it ever happens again I’ll give it more thought.”

Éowyn nodded sagely, but inside she was pondering the differences between the two of them. I never felt a moment’s hesitation about jumping right into sex with multiple partners, whether it be at Dunharrow, in the Drúadan Forest, or with the Rangers ... and most certainly not in my dreams. While I like being in control, I obviously enjoy giving it up even more. I wonder how many other cravings of mine Elfi doesn’t share? She remembered Celedur’s suggestion that she might enjoy experimenting with the dominant role in sex. Would she ever wish to be restrained? To be spanked? Or worse? But why am I dragging poor Elfi into my most twisted fantasies? Just how perverse are my desires, anyway?