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Eowyn held her head high, though she was in chains. Silvery blond hair hung in damp strands against her neck, her lithe body sweaty and aching with weariness. Her clear violet eyes continuously scanned the horizon, straining to catch the first glimpse of Rome, where here fate awaited.

It had been less than a month since her village had fallen. Not even the strength of their warriors, or the wisdom of the Druid priests had been able to fight off the fierce determination of the Roman soldiers.

The scouts had first spotted the armies in the clear light of early morning. Their numbers had raised clouds of dust in the still air. Eowyn shuddered to remember how she had hidden in the village storehouse with the other women in children, clutching a battered training sword in her trembling hands, listening to the slaughter outside. Their men had fought bravely, but they were outnumbered by hundreds. The Romans had swarmed over them, and within hours the village was but smoldering ruins. The soldiers had quickly discovered their hiding spots, and though they fought desperately, their collection of makeshift weapons proved a meager resistance.

The Romans wasted no time pillaging the food and treasury stores, and had bound all the young and sturdy together. From there, they were led two days south to a reinforced Roman encampment on the border of Gaul. There were a large number of captives there, destined to be sent to a life of slavery somewhere in the Provinces. At the camp, the villagers had been sorted out like livestock. Eowyn, along with two other maidens from her home, had been separated from the rest and moved to join a larger group of young women bound for Rome. She knew that she would probably never see the faces of the only people she had known again. Then, it had been a forced march steadily south, with little food, water, or rest.

Eowyn was grateful that, other than leering glances, the soldiers had let them alone. The fact that the girls were all youthful and pretty did not escape her. Virgins fetched a high price at slave auctions, especially from brothel proprietors. She inwardly cringed at the idea of that fate, but her pride would not allow her to show fear. She was a descendent of the Tuatha De Danann, not some feeble coward!

A low cry stirred her from her reverie. Ahriana, a girl from her village, had collapsed from exhaustion a few feet ahead. One of the soldiers strolled lazily towards her and nudged her with the tip of his boot. “Get up.” Ahriana managed a soft moan. Her lack of response seemed to enrage the soldier. He drew back his foot, and kicked her sharply in the ribs. Without thinking, Eowyn lunged forward and punched him across the chin, splitting his lip open. The man touched his fingers to his lips, and then stared at the blood in disbelief. “You Gallic bitch!” he hissed. With that, he backhanded her, the metal plate on his gauntlet opening a gash along her temple.

Eowyn crumpled to the ground, her vision swimming. Through the ringing in her ears, she heard an arrogant voice commanding the soldier to stand down. “These little lambs are going to make us very rich men; I do not want them harmed under any circumstance. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir” came the grudging response.

The man stood over Eowyn. His breastplate was inlaid with gold, and his cloak scarlet. He was obviously a high-ranking officer. Two molten amber eyes stared down at her from an angular, sinfully handsome face. He offered his hand to her, “Can you stand?”

“I don’t need your help, Roman dog!” she cursed, spitting at his fine leather boots.

He cocked an eyebrow in surprised amusement. “So you can speak Latin?”

Eowyn was about to show him just how many Latin curses she knew, but the world began to swim sickeningly, and darkness engulfed her as she lost consciousness.

When she awoke, gentle hands were wiping the blood from her face with a cool, damp cloth. She opened her eyes, wincing immediately at the dull ache in her skull. She squinted up at the softly rounded face of a young Greek man. He must have felt her tense, because he told her to relax and lay back. “My name is Lucius, I am a physician. Don’t worry, I mean you no harm.” He began to bandage the gash. “It looks nasty, but it’s just a small cut, you’ll be fine. I don’t believe there’s a concussion.”

Eowyn eased back onto a straw pallet. They must have set up camp for the night. The doctor finished and stood. “You’ll rest here for the night. Get as much sleep as you can. We arrive in Rome tomorrow, and I imagine it will be an unsettling day for you.” He smiled in sympathy and patted her arm, “A bit of advice. These Romans like their women passive, so try and rein in your temper. With a face like yours, you could do well.” He smiled again, before pushing aside the tent flap and ducking out.

Eowyn sat up, realizing her left ankle was chained to a peg in the ground. She struggled with the circlet and peg for a while, before giving it up as futile. There was no escape, and they would reach Rome the next day. Alone in the humid darkness of the tent, she felt a sharp longing for the crisp air and starry skies of her mountain home. She whispered fervent prayers to Morrigan, the raven warrior goddess, for courage and strength. After much tossing and turning, she drifted into a dreamless sleep, her cheeks wet with frustrated tears.

They left early in the morning, and moved at and easy pace for once. By noon, they had reached the outskirts of the city. Eowyn could not help but be awed by the vast structures of sparkling white marble. Her mouth hung open as they passed the gates and entered Rome. It was clamorous, the shouts of merchants hawking their wares mixed with the bubbling of public fountains. The air was heavily scented with dust, sweat, spices, and fragrant flowers. Even the faerie gods, the Tuatha De Danann, had not created such a monument of extravagance.

A small group of soldiers broke off from the main column, and led the girls through the roadways to a luxurious bathhouse near the centre of the city. There, they were left to the tender care of a group of gruff matrons. The girls were ushered into a steamy room with a marble bath the size of a small lake. The matrons ordered them to strip, and gathered up their travel stained clothes. Eowyn stepped down into the heated water, letting her worries fall aside for the moment, enjoying the simple pleasure of a hot bath after a long journey. She was not allowed to soak long. A woman with a stern face and firm hands settled behind her and proceeded to scrub the dirt and sweat from her skin and hair. She was pulled from the water and toweled off roughly. The woman bandaged the cut at her temple, then selected a lavender scented oil and massaged the perfume into her soft, porcelain skin. Her hair was brushed until it gleamed like captured moonlight down her back. She was draped in a short tunic of gauzy white material, and given a pair of simple leather sandals. Then she rejoined the other girls.

The soldiers had returned, and shuffled them through several deserted streets to a plain stone building near the main market square. They filed inside and were led to a room where a simple meal sat on a rough wooden table. The soldiers stepped outside and the girls were left alone.

The food was classic Roman fare, cold chicken, creamy white cheese, bread stuffed with olives and fennel, and watered wine. Some girls ate greedily, but most just picked at their plates, looking around apprehensively. They could hear the sounds of the slave auctions through the open windows, and Eowyn knew that it would soon be them on the block.

Within an hour, the first girl was led out. One by one, the room slowly emptied. The occasional distant sobbing could be heard from the direction of the market. Eowyn watched the sun set behind the grand buildings, her hopes of freedom from this madness seeming to sink with its fiery glow. Her stomach fluttered as a soldier stepped into the room, and at last gestured towards her. She stood stiffly, a defiant expression on her heart-shaped face, and allowed herself to be led out the door.

Antonius stood near the front of the crowd, watching as the next slave was brought out onto the raised stage. His fingers tightened on his purse as he recognized the slender beauty before him. Her hair gleamed silver, her violet eyes luminous as a twilight sky as she glared out at the crowd. The rosy tips of her apply sized breast jutted enticingly beneath the filmy cloth of her tunic, her creamy thighs and tender secrets scarcely concealed by its short hem. His breath quickened as he stepped forward to bid.

Eowyn stared haughtily out at the sea of faces as a fat man with oiled ringlets and an ill-fitted toga began the auction. She would not allow herself to think of what sort of brute would purchase her, or what would follow afterward. She forced herself to remain calm and aloof. Her icy mask did not slip until the bidding ended and her buyer stepped forward. It was the officer who had intervened on her behalf the day before! Her eyes widened in surprise, and she resisted as she was pulled down the stairs.

Antonius smirked as the girl was dragged before him. His eyes were cold. He grabbed her arm in a bruising grip, jerking her close to whisper harshly in her ear. “You belong to me now, and I will not tolerate such foolishness in public. Quit your useless struggling, and come with me at once.”

Eowyn’s cheeks flushed with indignant anger at being ordered about, her people would not dare to speak to her with such arrogance, but it was not considered wise to show such a lack of control before an enemy. She straightened her shoulders and walked stiffly behind him. Antonius led her to a curtained litter surrounded by four muscular men. They reclined among the cushions as the litter jolted and began to move at a leisurely pace. She refused to meet his eyes, preferring to stare through a gap in the curtains at the dark city. The litter swayed gently as it wound it’s way through the streets.

When they reached his villa, Antonius dismissed the carriers. He grabbed Eowyn firmly by the wrist and led her through the atrium into his softly lit home. There were no servants in sight. She had time to admire the exquisite mosaics and murals that decorated plain, whitewashed walls as she was led through several greeting rooms and deeper into the building. At the end of a long hall, a door stood open. He pushed her into his private chambers, adorned only with a fireplace, a few heavily stuffed velvet chairs, and a large, ornate, four-poster bed. It was then that the reality of her situation hit her. Fear coursed icily through her veins as he swung the heavy wooden door shut, and she back away from him. He turned to look at her, appraising her with heated golden eyes. His hair tumbled in loose black curls around his tanned face, more Greek style than Roman. “Tell me girl, what is your name.”

Unable to meet the intensity in that gaze, she averted her eyes. “Eowyn.”

“Eowyn, good. I am Antonius.” She nodded her acknowledgment. “So tell me dear Eowyn, have you ever been with a man before?”

Her violet eyes grew wide with shock, her pale cheeks flushing rose with embarrassment. “What kind of question is that to ask?!”

Antonius chuckled knowingly, moving towards her with the haughty grace of one who is accustomed to getting what he demands. “Your innocence is answer enough.”

Eowyn back up until she bumped the rough stone of the wall. He stalked toward her, bracing a hand on either side of her slender shoulders. She felt utterly surrounded by the masculine breadth of his shoulders and thickly muscled arms. “Now let me taste those lips” he sighed, leaning in to capture her mouth. She lost her nerve, shoving him roughly off balance and fleeing for the door. He caught her with one arm around the waist, jerking her up against his lean, hard body. “The sooner you learn to obey me, the easier this will be. Don’t make it hard for yourself.” he whispered hotly in her ear. Her struggles increased as she felt the stiff column of his cock press against her back. “Fine,” he sighed, “have it your way.”

Antonius threw her onto the heavily pillowed bead, pinning her beneath his weight. He produced silken scarves and proceeded to bind her wrists securely to the ornately carved posts of the bed. She twisted and squirmed as he grabbed first one delicate ankle, then the other, spreading her wide and tying her down. The hem of her tunic had ridden high, exposing a creamy expanse of thigh. He sat back and admired his handiwork. “Now I am free to explore my new possession unhindered.” Eowyn glared at him with eyes gone smoky with rage.

Antonius stripped off his boots and shirt, revealing a muscular torso traced with silvery scars, marking him as an experienced soldier. His strange amber eyes traced the lush curves of her, and her skin broke out in gooseflesh at the undisguised lust in that stare. “Please don’t do this,” she cried, her voice broken and unaccustomed to pleading. He only smiled and leaned in to kiss her. Eowyn turned her head away. His expression hardening, Antonius grasped her chin and forced her face towards him, slanting his mouth over hers. He licked and bit at her lips, his tongue thrusting demandingly until she opened up and allowed him to plunder her mouth. He kissed her hard and deep, tongue delving to explore every crevice. The sensation made her dizzy, and a slow heat unfurled low in her stomach. At last he pulled back, nipping playfully at her swollen lips. “Like crushed fruit,” he sighed into her ear, making her shudder.

One hand lightly traced her neck, soon to be replaced by his hot, wet mouth. He sucked and nibbled at her neck as his hand crept along her collarbone, then made it’s way lazily down to cup her breast. He lightly pinched the nipple through the sheer material of her garment, chuckling against her neck as he felt the tip harden. Without warning, Antonius grabbed the top of Eowyn’s tunic between both hands, jerking them sharply apart. She gasped as the cloth shredded, her skin flushing in embarrassment as he brushed the scraps aside and bared her body.

Antonius groaned at the sight of her naked flesh, greedily drinking in the long, toned legs, the softly rounded breasts, and the tender pink treasure barely hid by the downy tuft of silvery hair. He reached out and roughly mauled her breast, molding them to the shape of his calloused hands. Lying down beside her, he brought one peaked tip to his lips, giving it a soft nip before sucking it in to the wet heat of his mouth. He lathed her nipple with his tongue while pinching and kneading her other breast.

Eowyn writhed against her restraints as unfamiliar sensations wracked her young body. She was unaware of the effects her movements were having on him until he ground the hard heat of his erection, separated only by the cloth of his trousers, against her softly curved hip. “Please,” she gasped.

Antonius paused in his attentions. “Please, what?” His breath against her damp flesh caused her whole body to tighten, moisture trickling between her thighs.

“Please, stop” she whispered.

Antonius muttered. “I don’t think you meant that.” Eowyn nodded fervently that she did. “Really? Then why do you arch towards me every time I do this?” He gave her nipple a long, sucking kiss, making her squirm. His treacherous hand slid down her body to cup the damp folds between her thighs. “And why,” he growled, “is your ripe little pussy so wet for me?” He stroked his fingers between her plump pink lips, and brought them up glistening for her to see.

Eowyn moaned and shook her head in confusion. Some part of her mind was aghast at the bold intrusion, but most of her was too clouded by the fog of arousal he was building in her to think clearly. Antonius gave a wicked smile, and snaked his tongue out to lick the juices from his fingers. She watched wide-eyed as his fingers slip between his full lips. “Mmmm. So sweet, I must taste that first hand.”

He slid down her body, settling comfortably between her spread legs. His fingers lightly stroked her belly, the back of her knees, and the delicate crease where her thighs met her body. His teasing, feather light caresses caused her to twitch and shiver. Taking his time, he gently parted her swollen lips and gazed heatedly at the pink wetness of her pussy. Eowyn’s face was bright red at having her most private place so carefully studied, but her stomach fluttered in anticipation. He blew softly on her fever hot flesh, before taking a long savoring lick up her crease. Her back arched and she moaned as a wave of pleasure spiked through her.

The finger of one hand sought out her clit, and circled it wetly before pulling back the hood and exposing the tender jewel to his gaze. Eowyn gasped and panted as he began to tease it with his hot, swirling tongue. A finger probed at the tight entrance of her dewy gates as he sucked her clit into his mouth and began lashing at it with his tongue. Her breath caught in her throat as his finger pushed into her resisting flesh and began to slide in and out. Antonius hardened painfully at the exquisite tightness of her untried passage, the heady scent of her juices making his mind reel with lust. He gently added another finger, loosening and pumping her while he sucked rhythmically on her hard little nub.

Eowyn thrashed against her bounds, uttering sharp little cries. Tears wet her cheeks as overwhelming desire washed through her. “Please, please, please,” she breathed over and over like a prayer, her hips moving in unconscious little circles. She did not know which god she was praying to, or what she was asking for. Antonius growled against her, scraping her clit lightly with his teeth. The sharpness of that sensation pushed the girl over the edge, and she came in jerking shudders, her pussy clutching at his fingers.

Antonius lost all semblance of patience then, tearing at his trousers, shoving them from his muscled legs. Eowyn struggled to catch her breath as her dazed eyes took in the golden sleekness of his nude body. Her eyes, darkened to the colour of the sky before a storm, widened at the sight of his straining cock. It was long and thick and dark with his passion. It could not possibly fit inside her slender body. She stiffened as he lay across her, the thick head coming to rest against her slick entrance. “Please don’t,” she muttered, “it will hurt.”

Antonius groaned against her neck, his sweat-damp, raven curls tickling her cheek. “You body wants this, Eowyn, it was made for this.” He rubbed the tip of himself against her wetness to accentuate his point. “Don’t resist me, and there will be little pain.”

Eowyn breathed deeply and tried to relax as he insistently pushed the head of his cock into her tight channel. With short, firm thrusts, her steadily worked himself in, butting against her maidenhead. Shards of fear pricked through her. He slowly withdrew, but her relief was short-lived. He pushed back in with one hard, long thrust, tearing through her cherry, burying himself to the hilt. Her eyes narrowed, and he muffled her cry of pain with his mouth. Antonius stilled, allowing her to adjust to his size, soothing her with soft kisses. Sweat beaded on his forehead at the feel of her, clenching around him like a silky fist. He battled with the urge to abandon all restraint and just fuck her, to take her savagely like some wild beast. He lifted himself up so he could stare intently into her guileless face as he began to move in slow, smooth strokes.

Eowyn winced as he began to move again, but the pain dulled to an aching throb, and soon faded entirely. He picked up the pace as his molten gold eyes met hers. One hand reached down to grip her ass, tilting her hips for deeper access. He hit a spot inside her that caused her breath to catch raggedly, and then he was running himself over and over it, making her jump and twitch. His pubic bone rubbed against her clit with every inward thrust, and soon her hips were moving to meet his thrusts, clumsily at first, then with more confidence.

Antonius growled and muttered incomprehensible words of encouragement as he ground into her, pounding her with hard, deep thrusts. Eowyn’s head spun as her body wound tighter against him, waves of heat causing her body to break out in a fine sheen of sweet. He wrapped an arm beneath her shoulders, puling her tight against his rigid body. “Ah you are divinity, my Diana in the flesh. Ye gods, you are so fucking tight and wet” he moaned into her ear. The combination of his wicked word and skilled ministrations proved to much for her, and her body convulsed in release, vision swimming with hazy colours. Antonius grunted, plunging desperately into her clenching flesh, driving her pleasure on until she thought she would go mad.

Soon, the feel of her velvety pussy milking his cock in liquid ripples pushed Antonius over the edge. His muscles corded and his balls tightened as he gave one last, brutal push. He uttered a hoarse shout of triumph as he spurted his hot seed within her. He sighed and slowly ground his hips against her, his body shuddering with the waning jolts of ecstasy.

He collapsed limply against her yielding body, cock softening inside of her. Eowyn looked at him in bewilderment, muttering something in Gaelic before her eyes fluttered shut and her breathing deepened. Antonius smiled, realizing she had fallen soundly asleep. He gently loosened the scarves, freeing her limbs, and pulled a silken sheet over their nakedness. He curled himself protectively around her, brushing strands of tangled moonlit hair from her delicate, heart-shaped face. His lips grazed her ear as he settled beside her, and soon he too passed from the world of the living into the nether land of dreams.

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