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Eamon ~ Short Story


As ya'll can see, I am obsessed with the name Eamon. This was written at the same time as "Icarus" was and even starts out the same, but as you will see it takes a completely different path. I actually finished this one first...it just seemed to flow better.


Without further ado...


Eamon



The path through the woods was quicker for Victoria, the leaves on the ground crunching as she walked to get home. Her thoughts were in the sky as she looked at the tops of the summer trees, watching as they disappeared into the blue above her head. The path was so familiar to her that she hardly paid attention to the small puddles of mud that she stepped in, or the fact that small branches strewn about could cause her to trip. She was in a hurry to get home but you would never know it by the slow pace with which she walked home.

Part of the problem was that this - her home - felt like a God forsaken place to her now. It wasn’t only that which made her feel this way: it was the fact she had been away from home for so long. Some things felt strange to her now, things that had once seemed so routine or common to her were now odd. She had only been back home now two weeks, yet the feeling of strangeness had not left her. She wondered if it was the place that had changed or if it was her; perhaps both?

She had been away in Edinburgh, staying with relatives while she studied at the university there. That was just before the war broke out and that sort of left her stuck where she was, safe and sound while the south of England got hammered by the Germans. They called it blitzkrieg, a word that meant nothing to her until she saw the pictures in the newspapers of the aftermath of the bombings in London; then it became synonymous with death.

War was a word that meant a great deal to Victoria, even though she was just 20 years old. Her father had fought in the Great War of 1914-1918, having died of a back related wound in 1924 he had sustained during the war. Although he came home a whole man, he had apparently not been the same ever since the War and health problems plagued him until his death 5 years after war’s end. Although she had barely turned 6 the year that he died she remembered a man that was strong and who loved to sing, and she held on to those memories of a father she felt had been killed by the Great War.

Her mother was strong and managed the farm on her own, her brother helping her run things for many years until he decided to enlist a year into the war and her studies; now she had to go back in order to help her mother in what ways she could. Everything else had to be thrown aside in the effort to not just run the farm, but to help win the war.

By this point she had hardly noticed that she was out of the woods and walking past the outer fence to the farm…until, that is, she saw the strange young man in the field. When she got back to the house she found her mother in the kitchen, working.

“Who’s that man?” Victoria asked her.

She watched as her mother stopped in the middle of the room and looked at her.

“I was going to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“I was in town last week when I saw Corporal Reynolds at the general store. He asked me how the farm was doing and I told him we’re getting by…”

As her mother spoke she began to clean around the kitchen, as if to distract herself from what she wanted to say. Victoria stood there patiently and waited to hear what it was.

“He asked if I needed an extra hand and I told him yes, but we weren’t in the position to pay anyone. Besides that, all the young men around here are mostly enlisted now. That’s when he told me about the German POWs and that they were getting them to help on nearby farms, as work for their capture sort of thing.”

Then her mother stopped, turned to her and said:

“I couldn’t say no.”

The young man outside the window had caught her eye as he moved about the yard; this was the first day she had ever laid eyes on Eamon.


Unlike most others in town, Victoria was not hostile towards the fact that there were Germans working on farms, let alone living amongst them. It was a bit unsettling to know that these were the guys killing her countrymen, people like her brother. What was most unsettling to her was the fact that these very Germans had been bombing cities like London, and now instead of trying to kill them they were working for them.

At first she kept her distance from the young German, not out of fear but uncertainty. Yet whenever she walked by the barn where they stacked their hay, or went to milk the cow, a curious feeling would overcome her and she could not help but look in his direction. He was a blur in the distance, working and gathering in the field, as if a ghost that only she could see. It wasn’t until she saw him up close one day that she realized he was beautiful, the most striking man she had ever seen.

It wasn’t long before he started to notice her, or at least look up from his work whenever she would pass by. As quickly as she noticed, however, he would look away, his head bowed back down to his work. Things started to feel a bit awkward, so she avoided wherever he was, instead of purposely walking by to see if he was watching her too.

It would have been easy to remain as strangers, pretending that the other did not exist, except that her mother took a liking to him and started to invite him in to eat dinner with them. This was when she first learnt that he could speak English - quite well. On these nights the three of them would eat dinner at the same table and she would listen as her mother ask questions and he answered them. The way the words rolled off his German tongue was a source of secret fascination to her, never having heard a person speak her language the way he did, a new and delightful twist on something she had heard all her life.
Language did not separate them for too long because one night, when her mother had excused herself from the table to answer the front door, he spoke to her.

“Do I offend you?”

Perhaps he had not used the correct English term because she was both surprised and confused to hear him ask her this. This was the first time she had heard him speak to her, instead of her mother.

“Offend?”

“I wish it could be your brother sitting here instead of me.”

She felt herself go a bit pale when he said this, not from feeling sick but more sad, almost as if she wanted to cry. Before she could say anything her mother was back and it was time for him to leave. The POWs stayed in a barracks on the outskirts of town, an old factory that the army took over to house them for the time being. They went to the farms early in the morning and left by the time the sun went down, all the while working in the meantime. A bus came around at the same time each night to take them back, to make sure that everyone was accounted for and that no one tried to escape.

So she would have to wait until the next day to speak to him, when she had a chance to be alone with him. He was inside the barn, moving some heavy equipment, when she found herself frozen in the doorway watching him. He was bare-chested, the muscles contracting as he breathed in and out heavily, the sun catching the beads of sweat that were glistening on his body. His hair was wet from sweat, making his dark hair look blacker than black, as it fell in the way of his eyes. He did not see her there until he turned in her direction, when he stopped and breathed heavily as he watched her.

She swallowed before she spoke the words she wanted to say.

“You don’t offend me.”



---

9/12/2008, 5:10 am Link to this post Send Email to OrlilLicious   Send PM to OrlilLicious
 
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Re: Eamon ~ Short Story


It was as if they spoke a new language from that moment on, a language that only they could understand. This language was not spoken with words, but more with gestures or glances as they caught one another’s eye. Sometimes she would watch him from the end of the field, standing at the fence and gazing out over the land at his figure. She felt sorry seeing him confined within the fences of the farm because something about him told her he was a wild stallion, and that it was a sin against nature to cage him. Yet, within the confines of this space he was hers to look at, hers to imagine, and so she was not entirely sad for having a wild thing locked up.


All this took place within the span of a few weeks. After this point it was easier to be around him, easier to remain in his gaze when their eyes met. He smiled at her one day as she walked by with her friend, and she knew it was something that she was only meant to see. Perhaps the world around her was oblivious to how she felt, but she knew that she was in love with the young man she had rarely spoken to…with words.


Her mother was not home the day it happened. She was in the house preparing dinner when she heard a yell come from outside, and when she went to see what had happened he was in the barn, bleeding. He had dropped some equipment on his arm and there was a sizeable gash where it had landed, with blood down his arm.

“I’ll get the doctor”, she said, but before she could turn to leave his voice stopped her.

“No…no doctor. I want you to help me.”

She took him in the house where they cleaned out the wound, which wasn’t as bad as she first thought it was. It was deep, but not alarmingly so, and so she took out the needle and thread. She had seen her mother do this many times on her brother but she had never done it before herself, but it was with concern and love that she wanted to help him.

“Can you do it?” he asked her, no doubt having sensed the fear in her eyes.

Yes”, she said, moving closer. It was not for fear of what she had to do, but rather having to be so close to him that caused her uneasiness. Never before had she been so close to someone who made her feel this way.

She put her hand near the source of the wound and felt his warm skin underneath her fingers. Knowing what she had to do she inhaled, gathering the skin in her fingers as best she could and piercing his flesh with the needle. He inhaled sharply, but then his breathing slowed and she could feel his warm breath on her arm. For some odd reason her hands were calm and steady as she continued threading the wound, as if what she was touching was not flesh but a piece of cloth. She was too engrossed to see that he was watching her, that his lips were close to her ear and that his body was aching because he could not touch. When she looked at him his eyes were speaking to her.

“Dankë”, he said in his native tongue, but he corrected himself: “Thank you.”

“I hope I didn’t hurt you too much”, she said.

She looked at the closed wound and admired how beautiful it was because it belonged to him. Raising her hand once more, she found herself tracing her fingers along the edges, softly and so as not to disturb the work she had done. She turned to look at him and their eyes met, his lips turning into a soft smile. Her fingers continued to trace his flesh, the warmth beneath her fingers encouraging her to keep touching, almost like an impulse one can’t help. This was unexplored territory to her; every part of her wanted to explore every inch of him.

When he smiled she brought her fingers up to his lips and touched them, feeling the moist warmth of his mouth. He took hold of her hand with his and kissed it, but then leant over so that his face was up to hers, an inch or so apart from where she stood.

Seconds that felt like hours past when they stayed like that, neither of them moving. Her breaths were short and shallow, her heart racing in her chest in expectation. Then, she watched as his face came even closer to hers and the soft feel of his lips brush against hers. She closed her eyes and let her mouth speak to him, moving in so that her lips gently pressed against his, encouraging his to do the same. When he did she felt his tongue brush them and so she opened her mouth to invite him in. She heard herself moan in delight when she felt him put his tongue inside her mouth, embracing her lips completely this time.

This was the first time she had ever been kissed.


What could have happened was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. No one could know how she felt or what she had done, so they went back to being strangers when her mother came in the room. For Victoria hiding her feelings for him was one of the hardest things she had ever had to do. While she knew what she felt was not wrong or bad, the world would not understand it and they certainly would not condone it.


He was her secret from the world; he was her unsolved mystery. She knew very little about him, only that he was a pilot and that he was 23. From the conversations he had with her mother she knew that he was from Bonn in Germany; that he had a brother fighting in the war; his mother and father lived in a big house just outside the city. He had some university but his studies had been interrupted by the war, and he enlisted at the urgency of his father who had fought in the previous one. That was all she knew, but he knew even less of her.

---

9/12/2008, 5:10 am Link to this post Send Email to OrlilLicious   Send PM to OrlilLicious
 
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Re: Eamon ~ Short Story


The day when he would learn more came within weeks of the incident in the kitchen. She had been on her way home from town, taking the shortcut through the woods again, when she heard the thunder from above. The clouds had moved in but she did not mind, caring little when the rain came in buckets as she walked. Her steps found their way to the barn where she knew he would be taking shelter from the rain, though she was not there to hide.

She found him in there, as expected, sitting on one of the bales of hay, his back to her. She suspected he was waiting the storm out, trying to stay dry, even though the barn had leaks here and there through the roof. At first he didn’t move, and she half expected herself to turn back and leave, hoping that he would never have to know she was there. However, seconds later he stood up and turned, as if he knew.

He was wet from head to toe, having obviously been out in the rain. His white shirt was sticking to his chest and his hair fell messily into his eyes. Beads of moisture were dripping from his lips and his eyes were directly on her, making her feel suddenly vulnerable in the doorway.

She knew she had come for this, for him.

She suddenly became aware of how wet she was as well, the clothes sticking to her body, the hair on her head dripping beads of water down her face. She watched as he walked up to where she was, still where she stood, feeling her body react to his proximity.

They were alone now.

Heat radiated between their bodies, even though they’re were both soaking wet from the rain. He said nothing, at least not with words, as he stood close to her now. She felt the wood of the barn door behind her and knew this was her last chance to run if she wanted to…

.. but she decided to stay.

Reaching out he studied her with his fingertips, sliding them over the moist surface of her arm. She felt the desire building in her body and for a few moments closed her eyes against the feel of what she had been waiting to feel for so long. She felt as his fingers travel up to her face and she opened her eyes, seeing that he was inches away from her. Weeks of unceasing pent up emotion exploded from her body as she leant in and pressed her lips to his. Hungrily, he kissed her back, as their mouths slid together again and again. When she felt his tongue run over hers, she let out a low moan of excitement. It had been a really long time since she felt his tongue in her mouth, and she knew that night it would lead to this.

Unable to control her curiosity she put her hands up to his chest, feeling the wet hardness that greeted her fingertips. She grasps the shirt in her hands and pulled it away from his skin, and he complied by raising his arms so she could remove the shirt from him. She looked at him in utter amazement at his beauty, having what she admired for so long next to her. Moving forward she kissed his chest, tasting him, licking up the clean rain with her tongue. His hands undid the back of her dress, sliding down as the zipper co-operated almost too willing with him. She felt the wet clothing being removed from her skin and when she is naked before him she was not ashamed.

She felt as he lowered his mouth to her breast, and she ran her fingers through his dark, wet hair as the burning sensation of his lips plucked at every fibre of her being. She tossed her head back and closed her eyes, unable to imagine what a man truly felt like and what he was about to do to her.

He put his mouth back up to hers again, but his hands were all over the place. Hers were exploring, too, roaming his body as he pressed up against her. When she felt his hardness she shuddered, knowing that this must penetrate her and that she must yield to him.

The rain outside started to slam against the barn and the noise surrounded them. She forced his pants open with her fingers, wanting so much to feel him, touching the hard manhood in her hand. Her lips brushed his, spreading fire through his core, daring him, inviting him. He forced himself between her legs, opening them with his one hand, caressing her with the other. His face buried into her neck as she felt the full extent of him enter her body.

“Eamon”, she moaned.

This was the first time she had spoken his name.

A rush of emotions ran through her mind and body as she let herself be taken by him, her body pushed up against the barn wall. His heavy breath felt like it was burning her skin as he pushed himself in and out of her, her hands grasping onto his back. She was completely overtaken by the feelings that overwhelmed her, not understanding how every nerve could all radiate to one spot of her body. In moments she was digging her fingers into his shoulders, biting her teeth into his flesh, screaming into his neck as every nerve exploded into a single surge of ecstasy.

Shaking from the orgasm, she drew him closer and held him against her wet body. The humidity in the rain was causing their bodies to stick together, their fluids now mingling into one symphony of desire.

“Say my name”, she spoke in his ear. She realized she had never heard him speak her name.

“Victoria”, he whispered, the thick German accent speaking her name.

She smiles as he looks down at her, his dark hair covering parts of his eyes. She pushed it away and looked into his black eyes, wanting to see the desire in them.

“Victoria…” he said again, more slowly this time, as he started to force himself inside again. It was as if he was owning her by saying her name. The way her name sounded rolling off his tongue drove her insane.

With his one hand he cupped her face, with the other he wrapped around her back. She had never seen anyone so utterly perfect, so utterly beautiful, as she did right now. There was something wild about him, something dark.

Her body was now completely under his control.
She watched as his face changed and she know that he was getting close to feeling the way she just felt moments before. He looked like a stallion, graceful and wild, but uncontrollable. He leaned into her, breathing into her hair, closing his arms around her body as she shivered underneath him. Surprisingly, she felt her body reacting to his a second time, approaching just as rapidly as the first time. She felt as her inner muscles clamped around him, not realizing how wild this was driving him, bringing him over the edge right along with her.

Roughly, he grabbed her and pushed her against the wall, slamming into her a few times before he came, moaning loudly and gripping her body tightly. He moved his body quickly, then slowly until, finally, he rests against hers.

The rain also slowed to a soft pitter patter. He was still inside her when he raised himself to look at her, brushing the hair from her face. She saw there were a million things in his eyes that she couldn’t understand, but for two people who never let language get in the way this did not seem to bother her. She did not intend to ask him what he was thinking, she just wanted to enjoy his silence.

He was the first to speak.

“You know my name.”

He sounded surprised and even pleased that she had said his name in the midst of their love making.

“I’ve always known it.”

Eamon did not respond with words; instead he put his mouth over hers and said all he had to say with a kiss.


---

9/12/2008, 5:11 am Link to this post Send Email to OrlilLicious   Send PM to OrlilLicious
 
Pammie312 Profile
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Re: Eamon ~ Short Story


I had no idea what to expect out of your short story about Victoria and Eamon, but I was so pleasantly (that way too! LOL) surprised at the turn this story took that your earlier one "Icarus" did not, or at least not on the page for us to witness.

The day Eamon and Victoria's lives entwined began on the day she first noticed him in the field, a POW forced to labor on the farm where she lived. As a young single woman she would have noticed any young man in her hometown since the war had called so many of them into service. She knew she should be repelled by his presence; a German who's mission it was to destroy her country and countrymen, but Eamon did not provoke her that way. She instead was intrigued by his daily toils from a distance, and began to notice his physical attractiveness when she got to see him more closely. Her mother unwittingly aided her perusal of him by inviting him to eat dinner at their table.

It was obvious from that moment on that Eamon had noticed her too, not as his enemy, but as a young woman who showed curiosity rather than fear and he too was intrigued and attracted. I liked your comparison of him to a wild stallion; the magnificence being tempered by the barrier of the fence that separated him from his freedom. Yet it kept him near her, and she was grateful for the confinement. The wound she stitched up for him started her on the path that seemed by now inevitable. She was determined to explore her mystery and Eamon was more than eager for her to do so.

The moments leading up to the barn encounter were deliciously full of drama and expectation. The rainstorm provided the excuse she needed to seek him in the shelter from the storm, and embrace an entirely different storm brewing inside of her. His soaked body beckoned her, but her own wet exterior called more strongly to him, and helpless against the siren's song, he approached. What happened next was ideal for them; the barn was a perfect place for the wild thing she saw in Eamon to satisfy their desires for one another. Sometimes no words are needed, and the language of love needs no translation. Victoria was not afraid of her first time, and it seemed as if she wanted the love she felt to compensate for the lack of ritual courting they'd been denied. The courting had occurred, but only in stolen glances and lingering moments while she sewed his wound closed, yet opened her heart. It was very emotional that the only words they needed were each other's names.

I think what I liked most about this story was the fact that everything leading up to their lovemaking was said in very few words, but many meaningful glances and and an undeniable attraction that knew no barriers. It was powerful when he stood so close to her but simply endured the ache that resulted from not touching. Victoria could no more resist entering the barn that rainy afternoon than she could breathing.

Thank you for writing a concise and brief but wonderful encounter between soulmates. I'm tickled to get to comment first and hope to see more like this from you soon! Kudos, babe!
 emoticon

---

Thank you, Shiloh~
9/13/2008, 9:58 pm Link to this post Send Email to Pammie312   Send PM to Pammie312
 
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Re: Eamon ~ Short Story


Hey Pambi,

Your review was so very wonderful and so very nice to read. What I love most is that you had no idea what to expect, but that you were pleasantly surprised (in more ways than one). emoticon

I like how you equated the storm outside with the storm brewing inside of her, you clever girl! Of course, storms are very powerful forces of nature and sometimes I think the feelings between a man and a woman can resemble that...as I tried to show between Victoria and Eamon. Are you shocked that this one was so different from "Icarus", yet started out from the same place?

Thanks so much for your thoughts...I will have more to say but I have to get my buns in bed as it's late here and I've just had a
visit from Ike. Yikes! emoticon


Thank you SO much! emoticon

---

9/15/2008, 5:15 am Link to this post Send Email to OrlilLicious   Send PM to OrlilLicious
 
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Re: Eamon ~ Short Story


YOU got a visit from Ike? That stinker bypassed me without so much as a "boo"...but I don't regret it! emoticon

---

Thank you, Shiloh~
9/15/2008, 5:18 am Link to this post Send Email to Pammie312   Send PM to Pammie312
 
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Re: Eamon ~ Short Story


Um...Loretta...WOW!!!! Holy crap Miss thang! That was amazing!!! I loooooooved it!! How you're such a fantastic writer I'll never know but you seriously need to be published.

quote:

Yet, within the confines of this space he was hers to look at, hers to imagine, and so she was not entirely sad for having a wild thing locked up.

I freaking loved this quote...I don't really know specifically why, maybe its because she already seemd possesive of him...I dunno, but I really liked it!!

When I first started reading, I was just waiting for her to find him on the road like in "Icarus" and then I though things would be different, but you are just full of surprises and I loved the way this one turned out.

This is kind of random, but I really love how in both stories you portrayed the Germans as kind and maybe not so eager to be fighting in the war. I think that a lot of the men who fought for Germany didnt necessarily fight because they wanted to or because they believed in what Hitler wanted and stood for....so anyways, like I said, random, but I like that you did that, and I don't even know if it was on purpose emoticon

It was SO good!!! Keep me updated on when you write again! I always love reading your stories emoticon You're thebomb.com my dear!
Loveth you!
S
11/14/2008, 7:15 am Link to this post Send Email to iceprincess10   Send PM to iceprincess10
 


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