Unconquered by Rhapsody

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Unwound

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It never occurred to her that the comfortable bed that now awaited her would become a place to fear and be a source of torment. She had avoided Melian’s questions the past days where she tried to function as normal as possible. The ladies simply enjoyed their afternoons together where minstrels sang, dresses were tried on by her youngest daughter. After her dark confession to the Queen, both never brought it up again. Yet, Morwen found it hard to find a routine.

Her confession to the Queen that she also loved Acca had opened a door in her mind that unleashed one night terror after another. For long she had thought that to ignore the events of twenty years of debasement and corporal punishment that she had to witness would be the best, for her. It had worked as long as she had to walk into Brodda’s hall, a routine etched into her daily life: the leash and chain, debauchment and the soulless eyes of those women around her as they were forced to see to every need. She had simply marched on, most often directly to Acca’s chambers where most often a night of passion would await her. Had she feel guilt about that? Of course she had. Her mistress made sure that once a while she had to pay a steep price for her nights filled with titillation.

Memories of Acca’s darkest arts plagued her now as she would sleep. Every night it was as if she would lie there again on the bedding. Restraining herself, she waited for the inevitable once the blade would break her skin, and then cry followed muffled by the fabric that was placed in her mouth. The pain would eventually slowly abate, that she knew once the tangy smell of her blood reached her nose. Her mistress never took long, first tracing her skin where the tip would bite through the surface. It was not done, once, nay thrice over before she would leave her laying there, fighting to remain conscious for the pain that become unbearable.

‘You are my piece of art,’ she would whisper to her.

These were the moment that she truly hated Acca. To be reminded of her role and that her daughter would be spared was one thing. Still to be considered a piece of art: a mere plaything was another. To Morwen, it was no play: it was something she should never forget – it was her sole reason to survive.

Now luxury surrounded her; no unexpected rapping on her door when capricious Acca demanded her presence. Not much was asked of her and any suggestion on her behalf to make herself useful was simply brushed aside: she should rest and recover. It was the Queens explicit orders. And how would this help her exactly? Morwen shrugged off her dress and allowed it to pool on the floor around her ankles. She stared down at it: the dress had a simple cut, but the fabric embroidered with golden dragons and entwined with flowers had set her aside as royalty.

"It belonged once to Lúthien," her assigned maiden had confided to her in the morn.

Morwen did not care much for these details and she simply had accepted it without a word. Gingerly she bent her knees, ignoring the aches that shot through her back once she lifted it from the floor and carried it to a nearby chair to put it down.

It had been a long time since someone had waited upon her, and she sighed deeply at the sight of the meticulously detailed garb that had been draped on her bed. It was just too much, too much all at once. Her hand found the wooden hair pin that had kept her braid in place: a wedding gift from her missing husband. Long ago he would comb her long tresses with his strong hands as they would lay entwined in their bed late at night when hope soared high and peace was still in their lands.

“This has to stop!” She cried out. “It has to. Why is it me that has to carry around this burden?” She nearly threw away the wooden pin and she fought hard to regain her calm. The last thing she wanted was to lose her control; it was already hard enough that there was none in her sleep. “Be strong, she will know a remedy.”

Resolving to have it settled now, Morwen marched towards her door, snatching her cowl before she stepped outside. Melian’s chambers were not too far from there and she had remembered the route all too well. Her sudden appearance surely startled the sentry that stood outside the door and both stared at one another. She still could turn around and find her own solution. The thought of another broken night, however, was more than she could bear.

“I need to see her,” she simply demanded.

“You cannot, she has... company.” He hesitantly answered.

“I am sure he will understand that I would call upon his lady in great need.” Morwen pressed on, “It cannot wait until the morn.”

The gilded door was yanked open as an answer, leaving Morwen surprised and the guard started to rap of his apparent defence in an incomprehensible elven tongue to the Queen who stood in the doorway simply clad in a simple silver shift. With a curt nod Melian dismissed the guard and smiled warmly. “I somehow knew I could expect you one of these days; however, I had not foreseen this soon.”

“Neither did I. I mean, I would not have come to you this late if it was not for something this urgent.” Morwen fumbled for her words, her resolve seeping away as the kind grey eyes of the queen met hers.

“I know you would not come unless you deemed it this urgent. Please, come inside. This conversation is not one intended for the cold hallway.” As the door closed behind her, Morwen tried to see who else was in the room. The interruption had come so suddenly that the guard had not told her whom Melian was with.

“Ah, it is her. At last.” The answer came quickly from the bed where the tall Artanis observed her. The magnificent lady lay naked on her stomach, chin propped up in her hands and legs crossed at the ankle behind her, swaying side to side while the candlelight seemed to kiss the golden tresses of Melian's apprentice. Although, apparently so, much more than this.

This all was not new to Morwen; Acca often took younger girls to her bed when she had grown bored of her services. When it did occur, she had to watch how her mistress drove the maidens far past their boundaries as she knelt in the corner of the room with her head bent low as it was expected of her.

“What is it?” Melian gently enquired and led her to the chair close to the hearth.

Before she could answer, Artanis swung her long legs over the edge of the bed and rose to her feet. “It is the horror of that which one cannot forget. Is it not, little one?”

“Artanis!”

“Do not claim it is not so, it cannot only be me who has perceived this. You may have heard her words, but her eyes tell more than she ever would be willing to share.”

Artanis’ apt observations unnerved her and Morwen wondered as to why she ever thought this would have been a good idea. There was a depth in the tall ladies eyes, her words spoken with a lilt still that came too close for her own comfort.

“You do not need to answer, all you need to know is that I understand. Time will reveal your burden. Maybe, given the short span of your kind, you will carry it into your grave, trusting it will be gone once beyond Arda.” Artanis simply smiled and made her way to a washstand to fill a goblet with water.

Morwen observed how she tilted the pitcher with grace and casually turned around to await her answer.

“It is a burden,” she finally answered Melian, “I feel the need to keep myself busy and to live here with nothing to do…”

“I offered you healing if you wished to receive it,” Melian interrupted her; “My apprentice has many qualities but alike some of her kindred, she reads people very well. You have not come here to ask for chores to do for I will give you none. You are a guest beneath my roof and will be treated thusly.”

“I recall, before I made my way here, that the nights were the most difficult. In my dreams I became haunted, reliving every death on the grinding ice again. Suffering that painful loss again.” Artanis added. “One does not need much to tell that you do not sleep well; the dark circles beneath your eyes give away too much.”

“It is your choice to make, Morwen. Yes there are remedies that make you sleep, but the effects of it will not last forever.” Melian reached for her hand and brushed it.

Both looked at her expectantly at first, and Morwen felt unsure what to do.

“May I look?”  Artanis suddenly asked and joined them; and moved to stand at Morwen’s other side.

“Ay, I rather…” Morwen paused and took a step backwards.

“You can trust her, Eledhwen.” The Queen gently squeezed her hand. “Artanis has seen many horrors and survived.”

Many women she knew had survived and from tales of lore she had learnt at what a price her people had came here. How harmful could it be? She stood silent as she unlaced her shift and let it drop down her shoulders. Morwen heard how the Noldo lady moved behind her.

"Oh my, how lovely," Artanis breathed.

"Indeed," Melian replied slowly, allowing the word to hang in the air. "She has never seen it herself, as you can see the last scab has finally healed."

"Then she must see it." Artanis abruptly decided and walked across the room to the dresser. Morwen felt uncertain if she wanted to see what was done to her back over the years and yet she could not bring herself to fasten the laces of her shift. Instead she felt a rush of boldness course through her and shrugged off the linen. Turning her gaze to Melian, she found how the Queen smiled provocatively at her. What could she possibly hide after all she had been through and what she had told the Queen days before? Pride? Her honour? Would it matter now? She would not allow herself to be conquered by this.

"Come hither," Artanis instructed her and once Morwen looked into her eyes, she saw how they shone with a beautifully potent mixture of desire and curiosity. Doing as she was told, she walked towards the mirror and looked at herself. Her grey eyes stared back at her, a few grey hairs trickled trough her dark hair which graced her strong neck and shoulders. Her eyes wandered off to the graceful lines of her collarbone and her ample breasts now slightly sagged much to her mistress’ pleasure. For her age, she was still considered a beauty and she was proud of that. Artanis moved to stand behind her and held a mirror in front of her chest that caught the reflection of the one Morwen was now looking at.

She blinked twice and her mouth fell open in surprise. It was Artanis who interrupted her thoughts: “She did cut you often, did she not? She must have had a design in her mind for she was very prepared. I have heard some of the Laiquendi decorating their skin so. As the cut is made.” Morwen said nothing and felt spell bound when she saw a smile that curved Artanis’ generous mouth, it seemed like an invitation to more as her finger traced the outlines of a leaf that had been engraved upon her skin. “It will be covered with tattoo ink and that which leaves a lightly coloured design when the skin is wiped clean.”

“She often told me, before darkness of pain claimed me, that I was her piece of art. I never expected it thusly.” Morwen spoke quietly and turned slightly to take in the design of an intricate rose with dark petals and thorns. Its stem was unbent and the petals were opened, yet not too far to be dropped.

“She saw you. Eledhwen.” Melian joined the couple and touched the back of her guest appreciatively… “And you loved her for it.”

“Your days may have been dark for so long,” Artanis added and her hand slid around Morwen’s buttocks, then down her naked upper thigh to tease the inside of it oh so lightly, “I once learnt that love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. Now you know the truth.” Morwen fought to keep a strangled cry at bay, but lost it when her lover traced her femininity boldly.

“It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always preserves. Will you not join us this night to celebrate it so?” Melian added, her palms travelled from her shoulders to the curve of her bosom and traced it tantalizing slow.

It had been enough, the darkness had to be set aside, Morwen thought and met Artanis eyes first before she let hers rest upon Melian’s. “You have taken me in and your apprentice has stripped away the ugliness I did feel. Allow me to surrender to love and let us exchange the love we can offer to each other.” Both did not utter a word when Morwen reached out to the both of them: her hands were accepted and she was led to the Queen’s bed.

Melian cast aside her robe and reclined on the bed of with soft pillows, pulling Morwen down on top of her. Eagerness drove her, and Morwen kissed her, first feverishly, then deeply once the Queen placed her hand in the nape of her neck. Slowly, her mouth lingered on her partners and with a knowing smile Morwen broke away, enjoying the feel of warm hands running down her body. This was love as well, she realised, and it felt as a new life coursed through her. It was a different love that she had experienced the past years: she felt as if she had reclaimed her old fervour.

Melian’s body was so soft and lush beneath her. Giving into her desire, Morwen cupped the Queen's full breasts in her hands, bent down and sucked one of the nipples into her mouth before she moved to the other. It was much to Melian’s pleasure and soon moans of bliss rippled through the room. Entangled as they lay there, Morwen felt how Artanis hands trailed up and down her back, letting her know that she was still there and apparently patiently awaiting her turn. It felt so good. Feeling curious of Artanis’ motives, she let go of Melian, and sat up again tracing her hands slowly over Melian’s beautiful chest. She looked over her shoulder and met the Golden Lady’s mirthful eyes.

It was an invitation that the tall lady could not ignore. Artanis bent in swiftly and placed an arm around her, hugging her lightly before she bent her head to Morwen’s ear. The elven lady’s breath tickled her ear and she heard a soft whisper: “Would it please you if I gave you a kiss?” It was so unexpected to Morwen, as if bold Artanis had let down her façade suddenly. A shiver ran up and down her spine and simply nodded once she felt how Melian’s hands ran up her thigh imploringly before the Queen gripped her buttocks hard as if she wanted to let her presence known. Morwen smiled, luxuriating in the warmth feeling that started to spread as their legs entwined further. The Maiar was not willing to let go of her that easily.

Nor was Artanis willing to let go, Morwen realised when she felt soft lips kissing her cheek. It was so gentle and unexpected compared to the elf’s behaviour the past days, that she closed her eyes briefly and enjoyed the intimate attentions both lavished upon her. For that moment she allowed the pleasure rising within her, climbing slowly on that ladder of dazzling joy whereas one rained down small kisses upon her neck and shoulders; strong hands kneaded her breasts: the other let her fingers grazing up and down her nether lips. A heavy sensation settled low and she well knew what Melian was up to. How could she favour one over the other?

Instead it was settled for her. Just as she felt how a nail skimmed her clit, a force pulled at her shoulders and she was pulled flat down and away from the Queen. Then Artanis was kissing her again: first her lips, then her cheeks and tenderly her eyes. The bed shifted, some pillows were moved around and placed below her for support while Morwen heard how both exchanged a few words. It was too softly spoken to make sense of them. A small cry of pleasure escaped her once she felt fingers gently brushing her neck. It was a touch so light that slowly journeyed downwards to her collarbones, to her breasts that seemed to swell at the mere touch of the golden lady’s benediction.

Morwen enjoyed the sensual haze that filled her senses, arching into the touch of her explorer whose nails grazed brazenly over her nipples once more before she finally bent and kissed them. Her mouth was so dry, she licked her lips and as she opened eyes, she met Melian’s brooding gaze upon her.

“Please, do not hold back on my account,” Morwen whispered to her, hoping that she and Artanis had not awoken the Queen’s jealousy.

“She will, little one,” Artanis smiled against her skin and bit her nipple playfully. Both her breasts felt ready to burst and after this treatment her tips felt almost painful. Then she felt it, the soft exploring hands of Melian who tugged at her knees. Understanding all too well what was expected of her, Morwen parted her legs and she felt how one of her knees was pulled up and moved to one side opening her fully to her lovers.

“See,” she heard Artanis whispering in her ear as she lay down next to her and kissed her on the lips ending her thirst. It was little kisses, teasing her mouth continuously and Morwen knew that it was meant to distract her.

“Is that all, Artanis? “ Morwen challenged her and the Noldo lady answered her. Soon the brushing of the elven lady's lips and tongue against hers became intoxicating and burning hot.  Enjoying the moment in full, she kissed back hungrily showing that she would not yield so easily. As they kissed again, Morwen felt how Melian’s hand started her own hungry exploration. It felt so good to feel how the Queen’s hands opened her further, exploring and her finger slid into her wetness eagerly. Her thumb brushed her clit and Morwen whimpered softly.

“Soon, soon we will release you.”

She did not have to wait long. Artanis held her in an intoxicating embrace where both one moment would war for dominance of their lips, and the next alternating to nuzzling and nibbling her breasts. Morwen wanted to last as long as she could, but soon realised she could not as she felt kisses upon her belly and loins. Melian was set on claiming her and it felt so immensely pleasurable how her fingers slid inside her wetness, moving around brashly at first and then Melian slowed down her deft fingers flicked and stroked  her relentlessly. It was inevitable: waves of pleasure started to build up inside her.

"What are you doing to me," she whispered, almost to herself. Still, she gave no resistance. The events of the last several days and the frustration of lost sleep had made her mad with excitement. She no longer wanted to control herself and wanted to give it all. Morwen pulled away from Artanis' lips and buried her face in her shoulder shuddering wildly once she felt the first touch of Melian’s tongue inside her.  She could not help herself and arched her back wildly to meet her lover’s demands. Her movement was rewarded and Morwen nearly lost herself once she felt her lover catch her clit with hers teeth and bite down on it. The exquisite, slight pain only increased her pleasure to new heights while her lover lashed it hard and fast with her tongue.

It was so glorious how Melian treated her, lifting her higher and higher. She simply could not help herself:  her pelvis started to move into her need for more. Artanis held her tight, allowing her to start on the first wave of pleasure as started to drive her over that edge; the orgasm welled up in her and she let it go, thrusting herself against Artanis in complete trust and surrender. “Please,” she cried, “stay with me!” And they held her close as more waves crashed through her, more powerful than the first. 

After a while the intense tingling receded and Morwen lifted her head lightly to find Artanis bemused eyes. Little butterflies Morwen remembered from long ago surfaced unexpectedly and fluttered wildly in her belly, but also between her thighs.

“There will be enough time to explore that,” Artanis smiled lovingly, “will we not?”

“I will not mind sharing my apprentice,” Melian murmured as she moved to lay at Morwen’s other side. “I should have known she would enchant you, Morwen.”

“I enchanted her?” Artanis laughed and flopped onto her back.

“Nay, I do not think that she enchanted me,” Morwen answered lazily and closed up her thighs. “After all I am the Witch remember?” She smiled freely and pulled Artanis to her. “Please allow me another demonstration.”

All three laughed merrily and their hands joined the others for a new night filled with love’s wonders.

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Chapter End Notes

There was a lot I could do with the writing challenge offered to me. Still I remembered how the people of Dor-Lómin were enslaved by the Easterlings or the Incomers after the Nírnaeth Arnoediad. As I was reading Children of Húrin the following quotes made me realise how well Morwen Eledhwen’s story would fit very well in this challenge:

Then Brodda sprang forth, and he was red with drunken rage. 'No more!' he cried. 'Shall my wife be gainsaid before me, by a beggar that speaks the serf-tongue? There is no Lady of Dor-lomin. But as for Morwen, she was of the thrall-folk, and has fled as thralls will.
From Children of Húrin, Chapter 7: "The Return of Túrin to Dor-lomin"

As for Acca and the women who travelled along with the Easterling tribes: during the medieval times it was well known that women travelled with their spouses during a crusade. I only need to think of Eleanor of Aquitaine who participated in the unsuccessful second crusade, simply because her husband Louis VII of France was so jealous that he could not bear to think of leaving her at home alone. Like Eleanor of Aquitaine, I envisioned Acca as a strong woman. Married off to Brodda to settle a score between two tribes as a peace weaver as it was custom amongst the Anglo-Saxons. Since there are mentions of Brodda’s Hall where enslaved people were kept, I kept close to those traditions.

Marcus Tullius Cicero offered also some inspiration, the line ‘Laws are silent in times of war’ is a free interpretation of Inter arma enim silent leges which Latin meaning "For among [times of] arms, the laws fall mute".

The title of this piece is fully inspired by Húrin's words shortly after Morwen passed away in his arms:

But Húrin did not answer, and they sat beside the stone, and did not speak again; and when the sun went down Morwen sighed and clasped his hand, and was still; and Húrin knew that she had died. He looked down at her in the twilight and it seemed to him that the lines of grief and cruel hardship were smoothed away. ‘She was not conquered,’ he said; and he closed her eyes, and sat unmoving beside her as the night drew down.

—J.R.R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion, “Of the Ruin of Doriath”