[godric's hollow] truth falls always {lorin}

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b e l i e v i n g   t r u t h   f a l l s   a l w a y s   f r o m   t h e   l i p s    o f   t h e   o n e   y o u   l o v e   a n d   t r u s t   t h e   m o s t

”

It was great to have Lorin home again.  He felt much better having her there.  Theoren hadn’t been able to stop worrying about his sister ever since she’d gone back to school after the Christmas holiday.  Her letters were a reassurance, but it wasn’t the same as being able to see her.  It wasn’t knowing that she was alright, that she was well.  She looked and seemed well enough, and he hoped that everything that had happened in December was behind her now.  But, for all he knew, she could have just been putting on a show for their parents.  Theoren knew she didn’t want them to worry.  That she kept secrets – even from him, as he had come to discover.  But Theoren didn’t want her to feel like she had to.  He had never wanted that.  He wanted her to trust him, to feel safe around him, and to remember that which had been true since they were children – that he would always be there for her.

After dinner with their parents, Theoren had walked her over to the cottage, where she would be staying with him for a couple of weeks.  It was a warm night, the stars were bright, and a breeze rattled through the tall trees.  He had been beside himself with excitement at the prospect of her seeing all of his handiwork at last.  He had been working on the place for the last couple of months, and though it wasn’t finished, it was certainly an improvement on the state it had been in before.  Theoren had been most excited to show her what he’d done with the second bedroom.

He had only guessed at what she would like – girls were always so complicated when it came to this sort of thing, but he had tried his best, and fortunately their mother had been able to help him with some of the details.  The walls were painted a deep shade of purple, with the exterior wall in its natural, unpainted brick.  The furniture pieces were mostly things that had been in the cottage already, like the vanity, the armoire and the intricate wrought-iron bed frame, but the curtains and bedding were new.  Though he really wanted her to be happy with it, it was really more what the room meant than what it looked like.  He wanted to communicate that she would always have a place in his life.

He blamed himself for what had happened to her, fully and absolutely.  If he had been more attentive, if he had talked to her more, if he had known what was going on in her life, maybe he could have stopped it.  He had failed the single most important promise he had ever made to her – to protect her.  But that would never happen again.

Lorin had seemed quite pleased with the surprise, which made Theoren endlessly delighted.  He felt hopeful, as if this was the beginning of something new.  After carrying her trunk to her room for her, Theoren had stepped out to give her some time to get ready for bed.  After changing out of his day clothes, he wandered back down the hallway to her room to say goodnight, knocking softly on the door.  “Need anything, Lo?” he asked.

The muscles in Lorin’s neck and shoulders were knotted and sore as she accompanied Theoren the short distance from her parent’s home to her grandparent’s former dwelling. She was so happy to be home, away from the pressures and unnecessary angst of the past school year, but things were still tense in the Odell household. Christmas could never be too far away, and Lorin worried that her mother would never be able to treat her the same way ever again. Both Oliver and Larissa reached out to their daughter as if she was breakable and delicate. She couldn’t help resenting it, even if it was fairly true. Things were still hard for her, and she still hadn’t worked through all of her problems. It might not have been what they thought that was bothering her, but she was thankful for the small escape.

They knew enough about her to know that she was best left in Theoren’s care. Lorin didn’t have it in her to be as secretive with her brother as she was with everyone else. She loved him, adored him, even. She thoroughly depended on him, and knew Theoren would be the only one she could trust to listen to her and comfort her, no matter her evils. She didn’t like keeping secrets from him, especially those which weighed heavily on her conscience. She just wanted to let her brother take the pain away, and she knew that he wanted to.

Seeing him, just being around him, was already more comfort than Lorin had had in months. Things hadn’t gotten any better since she returned to Hogwarts. If anything, they had gotten worse. Lorin was just tired, emotionally drained. Tired of pretending things were okay, tired of pretending that she didn’t care about things she cared about. With Theoren, that extra wall was never up. She could relax for a moment, and just exist without pretense or fear. He would never reject her—not as long as she was careful.

She did feel guilty, a little, for the way she had abused his feelings for her over the holiday. She had just needed more affection, more love. She had needed to feel as if she was the most important person in his life, and she needed to assure that she would stay that way. She constantly feared that any day would be the day that Theoren met his wife and left her behind, with no-one to love her. She knew, logically, that he wouldn’t leave her alone—not even if he found the right woman. He would be there for her until the day he died... but Lorin didn’t want to be his second choice. She wanted to be someone’s first choice, and Theoren was the only one who loved her, the only one who cared. It had to be him.

And, in the end, it had been so easy to manipulate him. It had been so easy to twist his perceptions and his thoughts. Theoren had always been a vulnerable target to her pranks and lies, but this was different. It was darker, somehow, and more serious. It had bastardized something in their relationship. She wasn’t sure if he was over it or if he ever would be, and Lorin didn’t know if she could stop herself if she wanted to. She wanted him, badly enough to take it however she possibly could. She just felt guilty, that he would give so freely of himself, give her everything a brother could possibly give, and she would turn it against him and use it as a weapon. He deserved better. He deserved to be treated better, but Lorin didn’t know if he realized that she was treating him as poorly as she was.

Conversation between the two of them had not come as easy as usual since Theoren had met her at the train station. She had hoped, at first, that the awkwardness between her and her family would have dissipated while she was gone, but she was wrong. It had gotten a little better, but it was still the elephant in the room for everyone, including her brother. It was nice to hear Theoren gushing about his job, for once. Hearing him talk about the way he’d been fixing up their grandparents’ old place. It took the pressure off of her. Her grandfathers death had not been a surprise to any of them, as both Larissa and Oliver had been nearly forty when Lorin was born, but it was still sad for everyone. Oliver was taking it very well, considering. He had seen enough death and was better apt to deal with it. Lorin missed her grandfather a little bit, but death didn’t bother her the way it did many others. She was strangely at peace with it.

Theoren seemed eager for Lorin to see his handiwork, something else that brought a smile to her lips. She liked that he was so keen to show off for her, to receive her approval. She already approved of anything that he did, but she kept that to herself because she liked watching him try. He’d mentioned something about some kind of ‘surprise’ for her, which made her even more eager to see what it was. She let him carry her trunk in, glad that she hadn’t needed to carry the heavy thing, then stopped still as she realized what the surprise was.

She had honestly expected to see her grandparent’s old guest room—plain white walls, the faint scent of mothballs in the air, bedding that looked to be a century old (or more). She hadn’t expected this. She wasn’t even a permanant resident here. The walls were painted a gorgeous shade of purple, he’d repurposed a lot of things, gotten new bedding, curtains. He knew that this wasn’t the way Theoren would design something for himself. It might not have been what she would have designed for herself, but there was definitely enough ‘her’ in it to realize that Theoren had put time and effort into making this room for her.  The sentiment was not lost on her, and actually made her heart tingle slightly. Her face lit-up easily.

“Oh, brother!” She beamed. “I love it.” She told him, setting down her things on the bed and turning to give him a hug. He was so large in comparison to her, that she often felt untouchable in one of his embraces. She felt like nothing could get to her. She let go as he left to change out of his clothes. She unpacked a little of her suitcase, and laid out her own pajamas on the bed. She really was tired. Physically, but also emotionally.

It had been a long year; Lorin was happy to have gotten through it in one piece.  The O.W.L. examinations, alone, should have been more than enough stress for a 5th year, Lorin had allowed things to be much more complicated than they ever should have been, and she felt guilty for that. It was still too close to Christmas. Never mind that it had been more than seven months. She couldn’t help but realize that it was exactly nine months from November to July—she could have been much more than an incoming 6th year at that moment. She really didn’t want to stop to think about this fact, didn’t want to let it impact her at all. She hadn’t felt guilty at the time, not even for a second, why would she feel differently now?

It had been no more than a problem that needed to be solved, a fly that should have been swat. That was how Lorin had thought about ‘the parasite’ as she attempted her most outrageous trick yet. She didn’t have it in her to fully regret her actions, either. She would have been a terrible mother, and she wasn’t ready to focus on anyone other than herself. Even so, as she slipped her clothes off and pajamas on, she couldn’t help wishing “Happy Birthday” to someone who didn’t exist.

If Lorin felt guilt about the way she was treating Theoren, it still didn’t match up to how she was feeling about the entire situation with Seth. It still grated at her, that she had been able to be so cruel and so careless without a second thought. It took moments like the Christmas fiasco for her to realize how far she had let herself go. She hadn’t been raised to throw life away, and she hadn’t been raised to use people for only what they were good for. She was happy to have a chance to reel herself in a little before it was too late... but, honestly, wasn’t it already too late?

Lorin tried not to think about it, and tried not to wonder what Seth would have said, would have thought if she had told him about her condition. She certainly didn’t think he would have been happy, and she had no fantasies that he would have treated her differently for it, but he would probably have wanted to know that. He would have wanted a say. She felt guilty for denying him that without even thinking of it. She had never thought she would have seen him again, and she had definitely judged him as a one-night thing, only. She never anticipated becoming friends with him. She certainly never anticipated having feelings for him. She had really messed things up, but this time, the mess was hers.

She tried to not think, not brood about it, while she brushed her teeth and washed her face and tied her hair back into a messy ponytail. She just needed to sleep, and when she woke up it would be another day, and she could start moving on with her life. She was getting ready to crawl into bed when Theoren knocked on her door. She slipped out and went over to say good night. She didn’t realize it until after she opened it, but she really didn’t want to be alone. She could be strong, she could say good night and crawl into bed and make herself go, but she wanted to feel him close, to feel comforted and protected by him. There had been no closure when they last parted. She still had things she wanted to say to him that she hadn’t said.

“Mm,” He began. “You should come lay down with me for a bit.” She encouraged, reaching for his hands and tugging him in a little bit. “I missed you while I was at school.” She admitted.

When the door fell open to reveal his younger sister, Theoren’s heart warmed at the sight of her standing there, in her room in his house, dressed for bed, and looking such a part of the scene that it was almost as if she had always belonged there.  Two months would not be long enough; not nearly long enough.  If only he could keep her there, always.  It was a silly thought, of course – he knew he couldn’t.  He knew he would have to let her live her own life.  Theoren had been made acutely aware of the fact that Lorin was growing up.  It had begun gradually – he had watched her transformation over the last couple of years with a mixture of trepidation and pride.  What had happened last December, however, had made the facts abundantly clear.  He could no longer deny what was right in front of him.  She was more than just a little sister to him now.  She didn’t belong to him.  She was her own person.  But something about seeing her here, standing before him, caused Theoren’s heart to beat with nothing but admiration, and he could almost allow himself to pretend that nothing would ever change.

Allowing himself to be pulled into the room, Theoren squeezed her hand softly.  “I’ve missed you, too, sister,” he said.  It was good to be with her.  Letters weren’t the same as speaking directly to her.  Theoren had never been especially gifted with words, nor was he particularly fond of writing or reading.  The grand exception, of course, was Lorin’s letters, which never failed to hold his attention, and which he dutifully read through more than once, just to make sure he hadn’t missed any of the finer details of her elaborate word puzzles.  Nevertheless, he much preferred being in her presence.

Theoren sat himself on the edge of her bed, his eyes flitting around the room briefly before returning to her.  Her pajamas revealed more of her bare skin than he was comfortable seeing, and made it impossible not to notice certain aspects of her figure, but Theoren had learned the difficult way that it was not appropriate to comment on such things aloud, no matter now uncomfortable it made him.  She was his sister.  He shouldn’t be looking at her that way.  He would try his best to stifle his apprehension.  Theoren’s brow furrowed slightly as he looked into her eyes.  “How have you been?” he asked, not for the first time that night.  But he was really asking the question, now.  It was different without their parents around.  He knew that now she could say exactly what she was feeling, that she had no cause to protect him from the truth.  All he wanted was to hear that she was well, that she was happy, and that all of the pleasantries she had exchanged with their parents weren’t just for show.

Lorin could have easily told Theoren everything that he wanted to hear, that everything was fine, that she was over the incident, that she was happy—of course, none of that was true, but she could have easily told him it anyway. She probably should have, too. It was almost cruel to tell him how angry, how drained, and how miserable she had been. She didn’t have any real reasons to suffer, anything other than her own stupidity. All of it had been her fault, then, and all of it was her fault now. She should have spared him the worry or the pain, but she was too selfish. She wanted what he would give her too badly.

She sat next to him on the bed, draping her legs over his without thinking. While she had intentionally played with showing skin to him during the past holiday, she wasn’t doing that now. It wasn’t something she could jump into. It took thought and deliberate effort to push his buttons. Right now, she was just being her. She was aware, vaguely, that her clothing was revealing, but it didn’t faze her. Perhaps if it was anyone else, she would have thought of it more. With Theoren, she was rarely self-conscious. Even as her breasts strained against the fabric, and the hem revealed an inch of skin above her hips, she didn’t think of anything but having him there next to her.

“Lay down?” She offered, laying back in demonstration. She had a lot to say, and she wasn’t even sure where to start to answer his question. How had she been.  She sucked in a deep breath, and glanced over at him. “I’ve been...tired.” She said, finally. “This year was the hardest year so far.” She admitted. “Do they keep getting worse, or will they eventually get better?” Lorin asked.

“The Ordinary Wizarding Levels, alone, would have been enough to stress me out but.. I let things get pretty bad for me, brother. I don’t really even know how to crawl my way out of this one. How do you.. turn off emotions? I think we should start with that. What’s the point of them, anyway, except to make you act like a fool and be happy doing it?”

Saying this aloud was difficult for her, but therapeutic in a way. She was already feeling better and she hadn’t even began to break the surface of her true issues. She just wanted to feel his arms around her as he told her it was okay. She wanted some release from the burdening guilt she carried over her tense shoulders—like atlas, shouldering the world. She wanted him to take the pain away.

Doing as he was told, Theoren laid back on the bed beside her.  He rolled onto his side, propping his head up with one arm so that he could see her better.  He gave a soft chuckle at her words, reaching over to take one of her hands in his.  He didn’t remember much about the OWL exams, himself.  He hadn’t let himself worry about them.  Whatever happened would happen, he had reasoned, and he had been right – it had all worked out for the best.  Lorin was sure to feel differently about this, however, and that did not surprise him.  She had always been the more studious one.  “Next year should be better,” he assured her with a bright smile.  “No exams, and you’ll only need to take the classes you want to take.”  Yes, his life certainly had become much easier after his fifth year – Theoren had been happy to drop all of the subjects he’d never had much interest in, and had never looked back.

He listened intently as she continued, being both perplexed by and concerned at her words.  The frown on his face illustrated his confusion, and he lowered his eyes thoughtfully.  Turn off emotions?  What could that mean?  It wasn’t uncommon for Theoren to feel lost in her words, but he was determined not to vex her with that tonight.  Not when she was opening up to him this way.

As she spoke her final question, Theoren’s sympathies overcame him.  He dropped the hand supporting his head to wrap his arms around her, pulling her close against his chest.  Whatever it was, he could guess that she was hurting.  Why else would she want to escape the act of feeling?  “Hmm…” he murmured, his frown deepening.  He rested his jaw against her forehead, nuzzling his cheek against her hair.  Theoren never had any desire to stifle his emotions – quite the contrary, he loved the feeling of being caught up in them.  They acted as a guide when the ability to reason his way out of a situation failed him.  “They’re there to lead you, I think.  To tell you how you should act.  You know, the way you’re able to tell the difference between right and wrong?”

It came as no surprise that Lorin was feeling overwhelmed by her emotions, after everything she had been through.  Was it all to do with what had happened at Christmas?  Or had something happened since then, at school?  Something that she hadn’t been able to confide in a letter?  “What’s troubling you, sister?” he urged, voicing his curiosity.  “You can tell me.”  He needed to know what – or who.  He had to know in order to find out what he could do – or who he needed to hurt – in order to stop her from feeling this way.

Lorin let herself be taken into her brother’s strong arms, and she snuggled in, getting comfortable. This helped, it always did, somehow. To feel his chest rise and fall with her, his heart beating in time with hers—made her feel connected to someone, and that was such a rare feeling for her. She always felt protected by his side. Not even her own demons could get to her inside his arms. She shook her head before she laid it against his chest.

“I would never want to act this way.” She argued. Her hearted wanted ridiculous things. It wanted to give compliments and write letters. It wanted her to mumble awkward confessions and pursue ill-timed attempts at capturing lips with her own. She couldn’t, wouldn’t allow herself to become that mewling, quivering, pathetic creature. She was disgusted with herself for even thinking things like that. Theoren would never get it, though. Theoren could love openly, and he did that for everyone. Everything was so genuine. How could he wear his heart on the sleeve without it being trampled? She barely nudged hers and the ache was intense.

“I don’t see how you can be so open, brother. Does your pain not hurt as much as mine?” She wondered. How could he not fear rejection? How could he not fear the perceptions and judgments of the others he sought to impress? Maybe it was because, unlike her, Theoren had never experienced rejection. He’d never wanted someone’s attention and approval, the way she had always craved Oliver’s, and been denied it. Besides, he was practically the perfect guy. The very picture of masculine good-nature, he could love, desire, and chase freely. Any girl who would deny him would be too idiotic for him to pursue in the first place. Things were different for her.

She wasn’t genuine or good-spirited. She wasn’t nice and she wasn’t fun. She was quiet and intelligent. She was skilled at hiding herself and her true intentions. Her strengths, even, showed someone who wasn’t meant to be around others. She was too private and too needy and too everything else. She had nothing to offer anyone but her physical self, and there were prettier girls with better bodies who were much easier to please than she was. She could never give honesty, love, or support in a relationship. The closest she could give was her trust, and even that just allowed her to burden a man with her complex emotions.

She supposed she could listen, but she thought that she might judge too much. She would think about what she would do, or what she would have done differently. She might berate him for being an idiot. No, she had nothing to give.

As he asked his second question, an urge for more information her stomach flopped. She didn’t want to talk about it, she didn’t want to even admit that she felt like drowning in her own stupidity. She nuzzled him a bit harder. “I don’t know where to begin.” She said. “I just.. feel stupid all of the time. I feel guilty. I’m always so careful...” She was always careful with her heart, but sexually too. She couldn’t believe that oversight. She’d feigned sickness for months to get the potion.

She was glad she couldn’t see his eyes on her while she confessed these sins. “It’s not as if I was a virgin, Theoren. I haven’t been pure since I saw you bring that girl home.” It hadn’t been the sex that had changed things. She could have forgotten him, even after Christmas. She could have moved on if he hadn’t been so determined to be perfect for her.  “I should know better. Really...”

Talking about this was somehow less painful than trying to explain her strange feelings towards Seth. “I guess I was just too distracted and too stupid, and then...” she left that hanging out in there air without saying anything, “I just..” She rolled onto her back again, wanting a little distance before she spoke. “It’s been nine months.” She nibbled her lower lip, a habit she was still trying to break. That would be horrible for her, really. Her lips would dry out and maybe even crack. Very unattractive.

“I shouldn’t say that I’m relieved, Theoren, but I’m afraid. I could have been... I nearly..” How could her words fail her here? This was supposed to be something she was good at. Casual anything, emotionless anything could come from her lips like liquid gold, but anything that meant something to her came in awkward bursts and stumbles. She wanted to hear him tell her it would be okay, that it hadn’t happened, and that she would be better in the future. She wondered if he, like her parents, doubted her account of what happened. She thought that he likely believed her, he was thick enough to, but she also thought that he would know to not bring it up if he did doubt her. He, more than anyone, would let her have that one thing to herself. She was all but admitting to it here, but she didn’t think he would notice.

She didn’t forget that she had also admitted to something else. She thought that Theoren probably thought she had conceived on her first try, but she felt like he deserved to know the truth about her past. Sex had been such a big part of her finding herself that she thought he ought to hear it—all the sick details, all of the guilty moments. He wouldn’t tell anyone, and would support her. For that, he deserved to know everything she knew he wanted to know but dared not ask.

Theoren had never given so much thought to his own emotions before – and it was a rare occasion that he questioned them.  When he was happy, he was happy.  When he was angry, he was angry.  When he wanted something, he wanted it.  It was simple.  He felt no need to conceal it.  His sister was (and clearly always had been) the opposite.  Theoren hated the mystery, the secrecy.  It frustrated him.  Letting his eyes flutter closed as his head rested against hers, Theoren hesitated a moment, struggling to answer her.  The unexpected realization hit him hard, and with it came a fresh wave of dread – she was in love.  Wasn’t that it?  There were only a handful of things she could be referring to, and her choice of words suggested what she did not say outright. 

He didn’t want it.  He wanted to keep her, to save her, to preserve her innocence forever.  How could he stop her from getting hurt if she was so determined to move away from that?  How could he save her?  And Theoren could only guess why she didn’t want to these feelings.  Perhaps this person, whoever he was, didn’t reciprocate the sentiment; perhaps he was unkind, cruel or selfish.  Theoren found himself hating this faceless boy that could hurt his sister so easily, so thoughtlessly.

When he spoke at last, his voice was heavy with the weight of his distress.  “Sometimes,” he guessed, though he couldn’t possibly know just how much she was hurting, or if he had ever felt anything like it before.  Likely not, for he had never been able to explain what had driven her to do what she had done.  He couldn’t understand how she had ended up in that place, or the darkness that must have clouded her heart.  He had dedicated countless sleepless hours to wondering at the circumstances surrounding the events of last December – but Theoren had never been able to answer his own questions, and he had never dared ask her, lest he disrupt the fragile peace that held her aloft.  What would have been the point in taking her back to that place?  Was it worth his own being able to satiate his curiosities?  Certainly not.

Theoren listened with bated breath as she answered him, but his relief at her apparent honesty was short-lived.  He was not at all prepared for what she confessed.  Hadn’t been pure… not since she’d seen him with that girl… but that had been years ago!  His muscles tensed beneath her.  She had been a child.  It wasn’t possible.  Theoren struggled to stay engaged in the conversation as Lorin went on, but he was gripped in an emotional overload – disbelief, anger, disgust, fear, heartbreak, guilt.  He didn’t know how to absorb any of it.  This was his fault.  It was his fault.  All of it.  More than he’d ever understood.

After Lorin rolled away onto her back, after her words finally faded to silence, Theoren pulled his arm out from under her and sat up – as if the pressure of her body against his had been all that had been tethering him in place.  He couldn’t stay still anymore, not knowing what he did now.  Anxious energy burned through his arms and legs.  He rose to his feet and walked up the length of the room, paused, and then walked back.  He tried not to look at her, but couldn’t keep his eyes away – the way the fair skin of her bare arms and legs glowed in the low light, the way her nightclothes clung to certain aspects of her body that he had, for so long, tried not to notice.  No, she certainly wasn’t a child anymore.  She hadn’t been for a long time.  And Theoren was a fool.

Anger flared up within him, and his hands balled into fists at his sides.  “Who?” he barked at her, as if she could follow his train of thought.  Whose hands had been on her?  Whose naked skin had been pressed up against hers?  Who had been inside her?  Who had it been when she was a girl, and who had been the cause of the pregnancy?  And who, who, had she been with in the years between? 

Lorin  had not expected to feel Theoren’s warmth ripped away from her the way it was, his muscles tensed and his eyes bright with anger. Had she done something wrong? What had she said to make him this angry? Instinctively, Lorin curled into herself, feeling too open with the cool air licking along the skin that had formerly been warmed by her brother’s natural heat. Big green eyes opened wide, scared, as she looked up at his trembling form.

Who? he demanded, who what? Who had she been with? Who was making her feel the emotions she was starting to feel? She didn’t know how to respond for a moment. She didn’t know what he had wanted, or why he was so angry. All she could think to do was crawl off the bed and approach him.

“Brother, please...” She urged, stepping closer to him, gripping one of his balled fists in her hands, long fingers curling over it. “Please be calm.” Lorin asked. She knew it would be hard for him to calm down. Something she’d said had obviously upset him greatly, but what? She hadn’t said anything outright. She hadn’t admitted to anything except not being a virgin, so that was the only thing she had to go on. That could have been the only thing that elicited such a strong reaction. How hypocritical! He hadn’t been a virgin at her age, why did he expect her to be? He couldn’t be mad about that. Maybe he was, but she knew that Theoren wouldn’t hold that against her, perhaps it was something else.

Was it that she had hidden it? Or maybe it was her revelation at how early it had been. She should have been more tactful with the way she began to tell him, but she hadn’t been thinking about that. She had been only thinking of purging herself. This was her mistake, hers to fix. She stood on tip toes and pressed a light kiss to his lips, still trying to calm him. This was nothing they hadn’t done a hundred times before, simple familial affection,  but it felt was a little different now. She was afraid, afraid that she’d lost his trust. She felt like she saw disgust in his eyes. She didn’t want him to hate her for her sins. He wanted Theoren to accept her the way he’d accepted everything about her before. The kiss said that. Love me. Accept me. Please, calm down. Please listen.

The fact that he let her calmed her greatly. She still clung to his side. “I’ll tell you anything you wish to know, brother. Come back to the bed.” She encouraged, giving him a tug before eventually letting go and taking a seat on the edge. She searched her mind, trying to figure out the words to begin to tell him all that she had hidden. What was the best way to approach Geoffrey?

“I... I was young and stupid.” She began. “Stupid and jealous. I’d never looked at other boys until that summer. I never thought that I needed to. I had you, and that was all I’d need. Why would I even want to meet someone who wouldn’t measure up? I was used to being your favorite. I don’t know. I didn’t like that you’d found someone. I thought she’d take my place, that you’d like her better than me because you could lust after her.” She crossed her legs, letting her shirt ride up and expose her back a little bit more. She kept flicking her eyes up at her brother, watching his face. Looking for a reaction, something.

“I guess I wanted revenge, and well.. you know how old I looked then. Even in second year, you had to scare your friends away.... I, well I might have taken advantage.” She looked away, she didn’t want to see what would cross his face when what she was about to say sunk in. “Do you remember the summer Mr. Grenville passed on?” She asked, “When his grandson or something came to take care of them?” She was sure Theoren had met him. It had been hard to miss him, he seemed so crass and out of place, compared to the environment at Godric’s Hollow. She let him connect the dots, or try. She waited for his reaction of realization or confusion before she continued the story.

Anger pulsed through his veins, burning within him like glowing embers, hot and red and agonizing.  His muscles tensed with destructive energy, and it was all he could do not to lash out and start breaking things.  But this was Lorin’s room, and what would that say for wanting her to feel safe here?  He had enough presence of mind to remember that, at least.  Lorin stepped toward him, looking timid and frightened, begging him to be calm.  In spite of himself, Theoren’s anger was doused with guilt.  He hadn’t wanted to scare her.  Her hands on his felt small and fragile and managed to soften him somewhat, to draw him back to the present moment, but not enough that he could forget his anger.

When she placed a soft kiss on his lips, the last of the fire in him was extinguished.  His temper dwindled down to a distracting and unforgiving nuisance in the background, while his despair at his sister’s turmoil stepped forward to occupy his attention.  He adored her, and that would never change, no matter what she confessed to.  He wasn’t actually angry at her, anyway.  More with himself and with the faceless bastards that had defiled her.  His image of her innocence and perfection was irreparably tarnished, and this, more than anything, left him aching.

Theoren didn’t – couldn’t – sit back down, and instead he loomed over her like the beast of emotional chaos that he was.  He listened attentively as she recounted the events of her past, explaining to him what had driven her to such behavior.  It pained him to know that he was at fault; that he had been the cause.  His list of failures as an older brother were piling high, indeed, when compared to his achievements, and Theoren doubted he could ever make up for all the ways in which he had damaged her.  What was one gift, one room in his home, when her entire childhood had been thrown away because of him?  Undoubtedly, all of this must have been the beginning of what eventually lead her to attempt to end her own life.  And that, too, he knew he could have prevented, had he been more attentive, available, consoling.

When she mentioned Grenville, Theoren’s jaw clenched.  “Yes,” he growled.  Yes, he remembered him, though vaguely – enough to know that he was revolting and much too old to be pursuing a thirteen-year-old girl.  But if memory served, he hadn’t stayed in town for long… and that had been years ago.  Much to long for Theoren to have any realistic hope of hunting him down and punishing him for the violation.  Unless… he did have his name.  That might just be enough.  The Ministry was bound to have something on such a despicable creature.  The idea was tantalizing.

For the moment, however, he would have to set aside any plans for revenge.  If he had any hope of saving her, he couldn’t fail Lorin again.  Lowering himself to his knees, Theoren took her hands in his and searched her eyes earnestly.  “I am sorry,” he said quietly, and his voice had lost the edge of anger.  “I am sorry that I failed you.  Had I been there for you… had I been the brother I should have been –”  His voice faltered, and Theoren shook his head.  “I’m sorry.”

She could see the gears turning in his mind, watch him process exactly who it had been for her first time. She expected to see even more anger, but was surprised to see less than she expected.  His jaw was set, a clear sign that the fire within him had not dissipated completely, but there was a softness there that she hadn’t expected. As he sank down to his knees and gripped her smaller hand in his, Lorin felt herself filled with emotions she couldn’t place. How did he blame himself for this? It hadn’t been his fault. Even thirteen-year-old Lorin knew that it was her own stupidity, not Theoren’s, that had her doing what she did. After the first time, it had been mostly curiosity. Power. Geoffrey had been her first taste of it. He’d made her feel.. well, special wasn’t the right word. She’d been just a fuck, and she knew that clearly. Even so, the idea that someone wanted her, that they found her suitable, desirable even—that had made her feel important. Someone had noticed her. She longed to have that kind of allure over someone again.

As their brief affair extended, she realized that she could pull little things from him the way she had with Theoren. It might have been, even, easier. Rather than well-timed words, touches, secrets, and affections all Geoffrey needed was a roll of her hips, a flash of skin. As a tool, none were easier or more pleasurable to manage. She gave Theoren’s hand a squeeze, though, and brought her green eyes up to meet his grayish blue. It was hard to look at him while he was blaming himself for her faults. She wondered if she should argue with him, correct him, or let him think that it had been his fault. There was some truth to him being the driving force to her poor judgment, but the blame still rested on her shoulders. What good was there to let him shoulder her blame? She wanted him to trust her, though, to love her and vow to protect her. Perhaps, if he thought the sin was his own, he would be more fervent in his attentions to her.

Of course, then, how would she explain the rest? She wondered if she would even get a chance, if he’d even want to hear her confessions. She couldn’t help thinking of the men she’d slept with who had been his friends. Men like Eamon Doyle, who she knew certainly never confessed to Theoren what he had done to his far-too-young sister. Men she knew Theoren still cared for. Should she tell him that, and ruin their relationships? What would she say to him about it? She didn’t think he could really believe that she hadn’t planned all of this out, not when she planned so much. She proved to him again and again that he could only believe half of what passed through her lips.

To say that she was a fragile girl, easily manipulated by older men—manipulated into giving herself to them, intimidated into keeping silent. None of that felt right, even to her. There was no way Theoren wouldn’t know that she had chosen them just to betray him. That she had gotten pleasure from his ignorance.

She didn’t think she’d tell him that, but the others... what to say about her one-night affair with a Frenchman she’d never even met before? How could she explain that she had him just because she could, because she wanted to. He would never look at her the same way again. She pressed her lips together for a moment, preparing. It was a tell, one Lorin didn’t even realize she had. She tended to lie easily and effortlessly. This tell was reserved for covering up emotions with an air of indifference—saying things were ‘fine’ when it was clear they were not.

“Brother, it’s not your fault.” She said. This was true, but the inflection was not. She was presenting herself much calmer than she felt. “It was my stupidity that led me into his bed, not yours.” She decided that she was not going to tell him everything. She would tell him the minimum she thought he could give and avoid the situation with Seth if at all possible. “You’re a wonderful brother. You cannot shoulder the blame for each of my actions.” Her sins were not his. Not yet.

She leaned forward more, letting go of him to finally adjust her blouse, pulling the length down to cover her stomach, shifting to change the way her breasts fit against the material. Then she leaned in to embrace him, her head resting on his shoulder, arms around him. Little touches were rarely enough for her where Theoren was concerned. Her whole body ached to receive his comfort. “I love you, brother. I never wished to bring you pain.” She only meant to hold pain inside herself to spite him.

Would she accept his apology?  Would it really make a difference if she did?  He wasn’t looking for forgiveness.  It wouldn’t change anything.  Wouldn’t fix anything.  As much as he might have wanted to, he could not change the past.  There was nothing he could do to about it now.  All he could really do was be there for her now, and never let himself fail her again.  He would likely never be able to forget just how badly all the little ways he had neglected her had damaged her, would never be able to stop wondering how things might have been different.  This secret life she lead… so much going on that she never spoke of… didn’t it all come back to that?

He wanted to believe her words, but even if he could have, it wouldn’t have made him feel better.  He figured she, in her naivety, couldn’t possibly understand the severity of his failure.  Or perhaps she could understand it, and loved him anyway.  Theoren studied her with a fond sadness.  He really didn’t deserve her.  His gaze travelled from her eyes, over her lips, and down to her blouse as she adjusted herself.  He quickly looked away again, ignoring the unexpected curiosity and immediate rush of guilt.  She pulled him in and embraced him and Theoren moved in closer, wrapping his arms around her back.  “It’s alright,” he murmured into her hair, hoping to console her.  “I’m just glad you felt like you could tell me now.”

As difficult as it was for him to swallow, he knew it was better this way.  He wanted her to feel safe with him, not like she had to hide.  He wanted to be different for her, in that way, than everybody else was.  Better.  The best.  He needed her to depend on him.  Theoren pulled back to stare into her eyes, his expression serious.  “You know you can trust me, right?”

The embrace didn’t last nearly as long as she hoped that it would, not that she expected it to be lengthy. She was sure that the floor was hurting his knees. She wouldn’t want to knee on it either. She pulled back a little and looked at him as he spoke. It was brilliant, really, how pure his feelings for her were. She could see them on his face, in ever small movement, in ever blink. He truly wore his heart on his sleeve, and she was thankful for that. Had he had something to hide from her, some lie on his lips, she would easily be able to tell. She had seen his most genuine expressions time and time and time again.

She smiled lightly, sadly, but nodded. “Of course I do.” She said. She trusted him more than anyone else. She loved him fully. In complete honesty, she had no idea how she would handle herself without him there. He was the one constant in her changing tides. He kept her grounded, reminded her she was loved, and helped to lessen the pain she felt. “I trust you more than anyone.” That wasn’t saying much, considering... but it was true nonetheless.

“That was why I wanted to share with you.” She explained. “Ever since... I don’t know. I’d wished that you knew. Not so much that I could talk about it, but that you could understand.” She let go of his hand and shifted. “Come back onto the bed?” She asked. Even if she wasn’t going to tell him any more about her past, she still wanted his arms around her, his comfort. She missed him miserably when she was at school. She’d been so alone this past year. She had truly felt alone for the times time, and it ached. She was emotionally exhausted and could do with some gentle words, warm arms, and a soft bed.

She felt guilty, though. What did she ever do for Theoren? What could she ever give him in return for his kindness? In return for him putting up with her changeable moods and whatever else? It was never enough. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop herself from demanding he give more and more of himself to her.

At last, Theoren’s face broke into a smile, albeit one that was muted and somewhat remorseful compared to what was normal for him.  He hoped what she said was true.  He wanted her to trust him, and wished she felt like she could talk to him about anything.  He had never realized that this great, invisible distance existed between them.  He trusted her completely.  Theoren was never afraid or ashamed to come to her to vent his frustrations, to confess his mistakes, or to ask for advice when he knew not what to do.  He had no secrets from her.  Sure, he might never have shared all the details of his romantic history with her, but did not realize his own hypocrisy there.  He censored himself in an effort to shelter her, and to protect her image of him.  Not only was it improper, he didn’t want her to think less of him.  Her image of him was very important to him.  Nor had he thought it was something she would have been able to understand.  Clearly, he had been wrong there.

Theoren obliged when she invited him back onto the bed, beginning to feel ashamed that he had reacted so poorly.  He realized the counter-effectiveness of desiring her confidence and then responding to her confessions in a way that made her feel uncomfortable.  He vowed not to let it happen again, deciding he would listen to whatever else was revealed with an open mind.

Crawling up to sit beside her, Theoren tilted his head to look at her.  He placed a hand on her knee in an effort to comfort her, not anticipating the sudden fear he felt on contact.  Maybe this kind of affection was wrong.  Maybe it had been for a long time.  He removed his hand momentarily, feigning an itch on the back of his neck.  Things were different now.  Though certain it was not his imagination, he was sure he was alone in this realization.  Lorin would have no reason to feel differently toward him.  But she wasn’t the one who had just had their entire reality shifted.  Though he was fond of his image of her as his innocent, naive little sister, he would never be able to see her the same way again.  He would not be able to pretend she was still just a girl.

As he cast around for something to distract from his uncertainty, he felt suddenly like he’d been neglecting the point.  Hadn’t there been something else she had wanted to say to him, something she had started on before he’d been hit with this news?  Theoren cleared his throat nervously.  “You were saying something…” he began, frowning as he tried to recall exactly what it was.  Something about what had happened in December.  He was eager to let her talk about it, for there was much that he didn’t know that he wished to understand.

Lorin’s heart was heavy as Theoren took his seat beside her. Where to go from there? His presence was comforting, but she felt hurt and confused about where to go from there. She hadn’t even gotten to tell him anything, nothing about her shame or secrets or feelings. He’d reacted so violently to how painfully bright the truth was that she was eager to pull the wool back over his eyes. Wait until he was ready. Or just never bring it up again. She’d hidden it from him for years, what was a few more? Still, she grew weary. He obviously couldn’t think of her as a little girl anymore. She was sixteen now, but she hadn’t felt like a girl for years. It almost bothered her that he’d still thought of her in that way, that he had been so surprised.

His hand on her knee was comforting to her, and she leaned into his side, taking what she could get. She’d thought she’d been doing so well, too. She pushed too hard, was all. She had been much more subtle after Christmas. She had taken him much further with much less given than this. Here, she had been eager to purge herself of her sins, a sinner confessing to a priest. She wanted to let Theoren’s love wash her past away. She had been too forthcoming. It was easier with small, subtle hints, planned touches, and flashes of skin. She had felt him change in her hands. Here, she wondered if she’d ruined all she’d worked for.

She didn’t have the heart to push on. Shaking her head and pressing her lips together, she let out a sigh. “No, brother.” She said, trying to sound sure of herself. “That was all.” She lied. “I thought you deserved to know the truth about that. I’m sorry I kept it from you. It feels good to say it, but I can’t say I enjoyed it. I fear I hurt things between us.” The last bit was true, though it was mostly a way of getting out of telling him more. She hadn’t fully answered his questions. She knew that he had really wanted to know about Seth more than the others, but she was determined to avoid that if she could. She was loath to let him know how truly experienced she was for fear that not only would he consider her impure, but he may also consider her to be a harlot, a disgrace. It would have been hypocritical, though. She had no delusions about the number of women that had been between Theoren’s sheets. If he could respect them and treat them well after defiling them, he should be able to see her as just as much of a woman, just as able to make her own decisions.

Lorin never thought of herself as a slut, no matter how many men she possessed. It was a state of mind, she thought. It was the thought process. Lorin was rarely used. Geoffrey had used her at first, but once she learned what power was, she had used him. It was Lorin who made the plays for the men she wanted. It was her with the control to give or take, and she would never deny herself something she wanted just because women weren’t supposed to. Where did it say that she was obligated to deny herself sexual pleasure to have class? She wasn’t desperate. She didn’t give in to any man who bat his eyelashes at her. She didn’t let them use her. She pulled them in one by one, like flies in her web. Then she consumed him to mutual benefit, until she, herself, was satisfied. At the very least, she gave in to mutual attraction.

The thought, just the very idea that Theoren could be looking down on her for her choices filled her with an anger she didn’t allow to spill over. She still leaned into him, before she nudged him to lay back with her again. She wanted to lay on his chest and forget that she’d tried. Maybe, in the morning, she could try again. She could make softer movements and be more subtle. She could slowly bring him around to it until she was able to say everything she wished to. Maybe things would be better in the morning.

Theoren was skeptical of this answer, though he didn’t know if he was right to be so.  He often doubted himself around her, which was an unfamiliar feeling for someone who always acted on instinct, and who trusted that these decisions would be the right ones.  Maybe she was telling the truth, and that was all she’d really wanted to say to him.  Or maybe he’d frightened her into silence, ruining the trust she’d so reluctantly bestowed upon him.  Theoren’s brow set into a deep frown as he considered this.  “You haven’t hurt anything,” he assured her.  He needed her to believe that, and wanted to believe it himself.  He didn’t know if he could make himself feel alright with what she’d shared with him.  He didn’t know, even, if he was capable of pushing it from his mind long enough to get through the rest of the conversation.  But he would try.  Though he knew there was nothing he could do to change her circumstances, he desperately wanted to.  He wanted to change the past, to save her from her mistakes.  This wasn’t what he’d wanted for her.  She deserved so much more than what she’d been given.  None of it had turned out the way it should have.

This was the kind of predicament he would normally present to his father and mother, for he could always depend on them to offer sound advice.  But he couldn’t do that now.  To do so would be to violate everything he and Lorin shared.  He neither wanted to tarnish their image of her, nor to betray her trust in him.  And, selfishly, he wanted this burden all to himself.  Theoren wanted to believe that they could still share secrets.  He would never do anything to risk that confidence she had in him.  No, this was something he needed to do on his own.  And yet he felt sufficiently lacking in the wisdom needed to figure out how best to proceed.

“You know nothing you could tell me ever would,” he continued.  He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her against his side and giving her an affectionate squeeze.  “I… reacted poorly.  I’m sorry.”  He frowned again.  Was he getting any of this right?  Would she trust that he meant what he said?  And if he couldn’t console her, nor urge her into telling him whatever he thought she might be keeping from him, what was he to do?  Theoren couldn’t accept that he’d ruined things so effectively.