The Greenwater

Standard disclaimers apply

****
Éomer watched Théalyn move about the Golden Hall from over the rim of his newly filled tankard. She did not seem tired in the least, even though she had fought along side the Elves of Lorien only the morning before. He hadn’t been able to talk to her since he had recognized her blue cloak and her horse the previous day, and his veins coursed with a curious mixture of anger and desire. She had lied to him, in a sense. She had gone to Gondor, like she promised, but she had not stayed. Yet, he was happy to see her and thankful that she was alive and uninjured. He quirked a dark eyebrow then as he watched her pick up a tankard and take a seat next to Gimli, her blue eyes shining as she laughed at the Dwarf’s retelling of his contest with Legolas. The Prince of Mirkwood, meanwhile, sat nearby and watched with keen Elf eyes and said little to anyone save Aragorn.

The Third Marshal of the Mark moved then, nodding his thanks to the occupants of the table and then wove in and out of crowds, pausing only to raise a toast with Gamling and a few others of his fellow Rohirrim. His eyes, however, remained wholly trained on Théalyn and Gamling smiled against the rim of his cup, and then shook his auburn head.

“And what, may I ask, has your full attention this evening, Éomer? A pretty young maid? A shield maiden perhaps? Or the daughter of a farmer?” Gamling swiveled his head around and was not surprised to find that Théalyn was the object of Éomer’s desire. He turned back to the young officer and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“You’ll have your hands full with that one,” he joked. He took another sip and watched his words as they processed in Éomer’s mind.

A light shone in Éomer’s green eyes and he nodded slowly, a small grin playing on his mouth. “I know.”

“So, young Éomer, you like the challenge, eh? She is a good woman, a strong fighter,” Gamling continued. Éomer moved and Gamling shot his hand out, catching the young man by the elbow. “She is not for you,” he said lowly, his eyes serious.

Éomer scowled and pulled free of Gamling’s hand. “You have no say in this,” he said with defiance. He set his jaw and stared at the older officer, daring him to say something else.

Gamling accepted his silent challenge. “Théodred is dead,” Gamling reminded him. “And you are therefore the heir to the throne of Rohan. A marriage to her would not be beneficial to anyone.”

Éomer bit his lip, trying to quell the anger that boiled inside of him. In the deepest part of his soul, he knew that he could not marry Théalyn, even if he was in love with her. It was not up to him who he should marry; ultimately his uncle would make the choice when the time came. The leader of the Rohirrim knew he wasn’t getting any younger. A marriage was in the forecast for him and it would most likely take place within a year’s time. He shook his head and straightened his shoulders. Reaching for a tankard from the tray of a passing servant, he held it up in salute.

“It would be beneficial to us both.” He drank deeply and felt the mead loosen his tension, the honey-sweet liquid warming his blood. “And I know I can’t marry her,” Éomer added sullenly. “But I will not waste the time that I have with her.” He brushed past Gamling and continued on his mission.

Théalyn wiped her eyes and tried to settle her breathing after another one of Gimli’s rousing tales of killing orcs. She looked to Legolas who merely lifted one elegant shoulder in shrug of indifference. Her eyes flicked to just beyond the Elf then and her eyes locked with the glowing pools of Éomer’s. He quickly glanced to the double doors leading to one of the balconies and then back to Théalyn, asking her to follow him.

She gave a quick nod of her head and looked back to Gimli, smiling sweetly and begging off another round of his stories. She still clasped the half full tankard in her hand and she moved to follow Éomer. As she came through the double doors, she saw him standing against the railing, his back to her, and his hair blowing in the chill night air. She opened her mouth to speak but he beat her to it.

“Why did you disobey me?”

His words surprised her; she did not think he wanted her obedience to him. She stopped in her place and stared at his back for a moment.

Éomer turned his head to the side and he looked at her from the corner of his eye. “When I speak to you, I expect to be answered.”

His tone made Théalyn bristle and she scowled then. “I did not realize that I answered to anyone, certainly not you.”

He snorted and turned back to his vigil on the countryside of Rohan. “That was always your problem, girl. Too proud to admit when you’re wrong, too stubborn to do as you are told.”

“If you asked me out her to scold me, then I would sooner take my leave and go back to being entertained by a dwarf.” She turned on her heel and made for the hall again.

“You are an infuriating woman, Théalyn,” Éomer growled as he pushed away from the railing and crossed the stones in two steps. His hand caught hers and he whirled her around to face him. He pulled her towards him and went to slip an arm around her waist.

“And you are a spoiled brat,” she spat, shoving him off. “If you want someone to be mad at, then go find the man who bade me leave his city. It wasn’t my choice to leave Gondor.” At these last words, Théalyn’s voice hitched in her throat and she turned again, moving into the hall and deeper into the crowd of people.

Her gaze fell upon Éowyn. His sister had watched the whole thing, most likely hearing every word Théalyn and Éomer exchanged. Théalyn panicked and turned her head, trying to find someway of avoiding the shield maiden, but the tiny slip of a woman stepped around people gracefully and moved into Théalyn’s space.

“Your brother has quite a way with words. And with women, I might add.” Théalyn then tried to leave Éowyn behind but the smaller woman wouldn’t have it.

“He said those things because he loves you,” she said with an even tone. “My brother is not one to let his emotions rule him. Too much training to be a soldier, I guess. My uncle says that emotion is no good in a battle, and so Éomer has never really dealt with it. Love, to Éomer, is the hardest. He has never felt it.” Éowyn’s gaze wavered and she looked quickly to Aragorn. “I do not blame him for his distaste of it.” She looked back to Théalyn then. “It is cold and thoughtless at best.”

Théalyn held her breath and looked at Éowyn. She gave a small laugh then as she realized that she was doing her best to defend her brother. “I’ll let him know that you were his advocate.” She sighed then and looked back over her shoulder to see Éomer’s brooding form curled into a chair in one of the darker corners, his eyes never leaving her. She looked back to Éowyn. “I’m sorry about…that night. When Théodred…”

Éowyn shook her head and gave a small but sincere smile. “He needed to be with you more than he needed to be here. I…understand that now.” A blush tinged her cheeks as she thought of the intimate moments she had shared with Aragorn; a touch, a smile, a kind word. She blinked and looked back at Théalyn. With a laugh in her voice she bade her farewell, pushing her towards the large crowd gathered around one of the tables. The voices of Merry and Pippin were starting to carry over the din of the crowd as they sang lustily of a place known as the Green Dragon.

“I see that you and Éowyn have come to an understanding,” a warm voice said from behind her. Théalyn turned to see Théoden smiling and he pulled her into a warm embrace, his hands cupping her head for a moment so that he could place a fatherly kiss on her forehead. “You two could never agree on anything. Especially when it came to Éomer.”

Théalyn felt herself blush and she looked away from Théoden. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she tried.

Théoden laughed then, out loud and whole heartedly. A few heads turned in his direction, but soon returned to their own conversations. “My dear Théalyn,” he smiled. “You and Éowyn have always fought over him.” His gray eyes sparkled and he took a sip of mead. “Do you not remember your first visit here? All Éomer could do was follow you around with a love-sick look in his eyes. He hardly paid any attention to his sister at all! She hated you so much!” Again the king chuckled, but it soon died out. He turned serious for a moment and looked closely at Théalyn. “I know you love my sister-son, just as I know he loves you.” Théalyn opened her mouth to speak but Théoden wouldn’t have it. “Nothing would please me more than for Éomer to marry for love.”

“But it is unheard of, I know. I’ve been told many times, and not just by my mother. Éomer must marry for the benefit of Rohan. I have no land; my kind is nonexistent save myself.”

Again, Théoden shook his head. “If we kings of Rohan listened to that, then we would be a sad existence, I think. Let me tell you a story of a young man of Rohan and the woman he loved.”

Théalyn put her hand on Théoden’s arm, squeezing gently. “If this is a story of you and your late wife, then I have not the heart to hear. I know your story well.” She smiled softly. “But I have a hard time believing in fairy tales after what happened to my parents when they were married.”

Her eyes searched Théoden’s and she bowed her head slightly and then turned, slipping away amongst the guests as Théoden looked on. He frowned and his heart sank a little. He wanted the best for his niece and nephew and he wanted to be the one to give it to them. He already had high hopes for Éowyn and Aragorn – the Ranger’s usually brooding demeanor seemed to change when a certain flaxen-haired maiden was around. Now he wanted to see Éomer happy.

Théalyn’s feet were light as she left the party unnoticed. She wasn’t sure she could take another toast to victory from one of the guests. The air had started to feel close and she had a sudden urge to run. The corridors were dark and gray as she ran through them, and the only light came from the high arched windows where the pale moonlight flooded in. She turned to her left without even hesitating and then left again, her hands coming up and pushing aside a small wooden door. Her hair flew out over her shoulders now as she dashed into the courtyard of the Golden Hall, the kitchen door banging shut behind her. The gravel crunched beneath her feet as she walked now, and she passed the stables, shivering as she remembered the night she had returned to Rohan. She rubbed at her arms, cursing the lack of her cloak. Her eyes looked up and then fixed on a small plume of smoke rising from the chimney of the armory. Puzzled by this, Théalyn cocked her head and walked to the door, pushing against it to see if it was open.

The hinges squealed and she winced at the sound. Her eyes moved about the cavernous chamber. Someone had lit the brazier in the corner and the high walls that were lined with hanging swords and plates of armor glittered in the golden light. Her foot touched down on the first step and she let the door slip closed behind her. Her left hand automatically reached for her sword as she heard a sound to her right. Her head snapped in that direction and she gasped as she saw Éomer standing, watching her calmly.

Théalyn said nothing and held her ground. She crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to say something.

“What?” He snapped incredulously, wondering how shecould possibly be the angry party.

“You have nothing to say to me?” Théalyn asked.

Éomer’s eyes widened. “What would I have to say to you?”

“How about ‘I’m sorry I lost my temper, Théalyn’?”

“You promised me…”

Théalyn interrupted him. “I went to Gondor.”

“You promised me you would stay there – I asked you to in my letter.”

Théalyn glared at Éomer and her bottom lip trembled. She blinked the beginnings of tears away and hissed, “I wasn’t permitted to stay!”

Éomer had prepared to counter Théalyn but her words sank in and he stopped, his mouth open and his eyes wide. Confusion broke out instantly. “I don’t understand.”

Théalyn’s face grew weary then, and Éomer watched as she sank to the stone steps and held her head in her hands. “You are not the only one to be banished from their rightful home.” Her head whipped up then and she gazed steadily at Éomer. “I went to Gondor. Denethor sent me back.”

Éomer’s gaze wavered and he tried to hide the guilt in his eyes. He should have known; he said as much and was greeted with Théalyn’s answer in return.

When her laughter subsided she spoke. “Do you think anyoneknows?” She hissed accusingly. “Nobody knows firsthand the sting of hishatred, of hisdespise more than me.” Her voice had grown hollow and she scowled at Éomer, hating the fact that he had roused such emotion in her. She made a sound of frustration and turned on her heel, stealing up the steps and out of the armory.

“Théalyn!” Éomer’s voice echoed in the armory even as he wrenched open the door. He saw her dash across the courtyard and head for the main gates into the city. Cursing under his breath, he stole after her.

Eyes stinging with tears and the cold wind, Théalyn’s feet tore up the loose gravel that made up the streets of Rohan. She remembered running like this along time ago, but it was along a marble path and under the awnings of great towers. She heard Éomer’s voice behind her through the din of those that celebrated within the city. A ball of fire exploded beside her and she looked back over her shoulder to watch Éomer dodge a performer. Her eyes fell forward again and she hastened her steps, weaving between the tables of food and through a group of dancing men and women. They fell apart like water on rock and they shouted their protests at their interrupted dance.

Éomer apologized quickly and was about to go after Théalyn when he saw her head back towards the Golden Hall. He smirked and made a sharp turn, heading back the way he came and hoping to cut her off.

Théalyn’s feet never slowed down until she neared the high wall that surrounded Théoden’s house. She threw another glance over her shoulder and frowned when she did not see Éomer. She faltered and looked ahead in time to see someone move into her path and knock her squarely off her feet. She cried out in surprise as she hit the ground and she struggled as her attacker fought to catch her wrists. A hand came down over her mouth, cutting off her cursing, while the other hand caught both of hers in a strong grip. She screamed behind the offending palm, her voice muffled and useless, and she shook her hair out of her eyes.

“Be still.” Éomer’s voice was hard and commanding. He shifted his weight slightly, not wanting to crush the woman beneath him, but he kept his hand over her mouth. “And be silent for a moment.”

Théalyn’s breathing slowly returned to normal, but her eyes flashed dangerously.

“You,” Éomer began with an air of authority, “are quite possibly the most difficult person I know. More so than my brat of a sister.” He cocked his head to the side as if contemplating something. “Why do you insist on fighting me?”

Théalyn’s lips moved beneath his hand as she tried to speak. Shaking her head, she managed to free herself from Éomer’s hand for a moment to answer him. “How do I fight you?” she dared him to answer.

“Théalyn, I love you with everything I am, but you have to stop being so stubborn.” His eyes searched hers. “When I asked you to go to Gondor, I did it so you would be safe.” The palm of his hand now smoothed over her jaw and brushed her hair from her face. “You have always been the one to take care of me,” he said gently. “Would it kill you to have me care for you?”

She tried to speak, but her voice caught in her throat. Éomer’s eyes were pleading and she saw a flicker of pain cross his face as he looked down and then slowly moved off of her, his hand trailing across her neck and shoulder. He sat back on his heels and sighed. “If I am short with you, then I apologize. You must know that I do not mean to hurt you. That I don’t mean to offend you.”

Théalyn nodded slowly. “I know your temperament, Éomer. I know you do these things out of love, not spite. I did not want to break my promise to you, but I had no choice.”

“I understand,” the Horse Lord said calmly. He watched as Théalyn sat up across from him.

“No, I don’t think you do,” Théalyn continued. She took a deep breath. “I am not a woman of the Westfold, nor am I a Shieldmaiden. The laws of Rohan do not rule me, Éomer. I am not disobedient to you or your uncle. I am obedient to my own people.”

Éomer bit his lip and nodded. He felt so foolish now for being angered at Théalyn and his eyes pleaded with her. “Of course.” He bowed his head shortly in apology. “I am sorry. I didn’t realize.”

A small smile touched Théalyn’s mouth and she spoke. “I forgive you. You were only doing what you thought was best.” She made to stand but watched Éomer surge to his feet and hold a hand out to her. She did not hesitate to accept his help. Once on her feet, she dusted at her cloak the best she could and then plucked a few pieces of straw from Éomer’s tunic.

“I still don’t want you to fight,” Éomer added as took Théalyn’s hand and led her to the walls of Théoden’s house. He heard the woman beside him take a breath to answer but he cut her off. “And I know that it is not my choice. So I will say nothing more than this: You will ride out with me and you will not leave my side.” He turned his head to look at her and he chuckled at her expression. “It’s a compromise, Théalyn.”

She clamped her mouth shut and tried to look angry, but her eyes sparkled. “I will not leave your side,” she acknowledged. She let Éomer guide her back to the Golden Hall and through a side door, escaping the din of the party that still raged in the main hall.

The passages of Meduselad were alight with torches and their footsteps were soft as they crossed the stone floors. Théalyn knew where she was going; she had mapped the way to Éomer’s room from any point in the great house long ago. They were silent on their way and when they reached the oak door of Éomer’s chambers he paused and turned back to Théalyn. He reached for her then, pulling her against his body and slanting his lips over hers in a heated kiss. Nibbling softly at her bottom lip, Éomer groaned into her mouth. Taking one of her hands in his, he guided it between them to cup his straining manhood.

“I have decided that I have spent too many nights here alone,” he murmured between kisses. “Will you stay with me?” he breathed, breaking apart only long enough to push the door open and pull Théalyn inside.

“For a time,” she answered with her lips against the underside of his jaw. Her hand flexed around his erection and she purred at the sound it wrenched from Éomer’s throat.

For now, the answer was enough and Éomer closed the door, sealing off the outside world for a spell. Immediately he was upon her, pushing her against the stone wall next to the door and placing his palms on either side of her head, blocking any escape she may have planned. His hips angled towards her as her hands continued their torture. He felt her tug the buckle of his sword belt and then the weight was gone. There was a loud clang as his sword hit the floor and he laughed as Théalyn deftly kicked it aside with a booted foot.

“I dreamt of this night,” Théalyn whispered hotly. “I came to you here, while you slept on a pile of furs.” Her eyes left his for a moment and she looked to the bed. The brazier had been lit an hour earlier by one of the many servants, and his room glowed with warmth.

Éomer’s gaze followed hers and then he looked back to her, his dark eyebrows raised. “Is that where you would like me? On my back, at your mercy?” His fingertips slid over the front of her bodice and came to rest on the leather thong that held the curriass closed. He bowed his head and kissed her throat and along the tops of her breasts. She sighed a feminine sigh and her head rested against the stone wall.

“Or perhaps you will let me have my way with you? Hmm?” He pressed his nose into the curve of her neck and he inhaled, breathing in the scent of honey and pipe smoke and juniper berries.

“Éomer,” she whispered in a shaking voice. Her body was humming with arousal.

“Shhh,” he soothed, brushing her hair back from her shoulders. He stood straight then and took a few steps back. He tugged his overtunic from his body and over his head, and then he tossed it aside without another glance. His fingers pulled at the lacing at the neck of his undertuinc and soon he shrugged out of that garment as well. Standing in only his breeches and his boots, he cocked his head at Théalyn’s still-clothed form.

“I won’t stand here all night waiting for you,” he growled lowly, a lusty smile tugging at his lips. “If you do not undress than I shall do it for you.”

Théalyn could not help the small smile on her face as she watched Éomer’s passion take over. He was often a demanding lover when consumed by emotion, and her fingers trembled with the brooch of her cloak as she thought of what he might do.

She looked up at him from under her dark lashes, her eyes questioning his motives. He wouldn’t meet her gaze, however, and his eyes watched the careful movements of her fingers as she unfastened the brooch that held the dark blue wool closed at her shoulder. He nodded as he watched the fabric fall to the floor and he finally looked back at her face, ordering her to continue.

She hesitated then. A flicker of malice shot through Eomer’s eyes, making them seem golden in the firelight, and he stepped forward then, closing the small distance between them. His hands brushed hers away and he reached for the laces at Théalyn’s bodice. His other hand slowly smoothed over her shoulders, sliding down one, then across her chest and her collarbone, and then over the other, before moving back down to the leather laces that held the top of her dress closed. His face held a look of unchecked lust and his fist curled around the laces and pulled, snapping them open with little effort.

She gasped at the force of his actions and she instinctively tried to pull away from him. Slowly shaking his head, Éomer reached to slide a hand through her hair and grip the back of her head. He tugged sharply, making her step forward, and his breath whispered across her lips as his gazed at her.

“You’ll do as I say for once,” he said softly. His hand eased on her hair and he moved behind her. “Do you trust me?” He asked from over her shoulder.

Théalyn nodded. “Always,” she replied.

She felt him behind her; he was close. Théalyn could feel his warm breath tickling her neck and she could smell the scent of leather and the faint tang of horses, and something else that she associated only with Éomer.

Théalyn felt the rasp of his stubble against her neck as he placed a soft kiss behind her ear. His hands smoothed down the front of her dress, taking the now useless bodice with it and letting it fall to the floor. With her breasts unbound now, Eomer cupped them gently, rolling his thumbs over both nipples. Théalyn gasped and he growled in approval as his hands slid down and caught her hips. He pulled her body back against his as he pushed his hips forward and he heard a small sigh fall from Théalyn’s lips. He smiled at the sound and moved the mass of golden waves that was her hair over one shoulder. His fingers barely touched her; the pressure was so minute that Théalyn could not tell whether he was touching her or not.

Slowly, Éomer walked Théalyn to his bed and he turned her so that she faced him once more. His eyes followed the curve of her neck and took in the sight of her body bared to him in the light of the fire. He felt his chest tighten wonderfully as he watched his hands pull the curriass all the way off. Dropping it, it lay forgotten on the floor and it was soon joined by Théalyn’s tunic. He reached for the laces on her breeches now and his fingers worked fast, loosening the tie. Laying his palm flat against her smooth belly, he felt her stomach muscles clench as his hand moved to gently cup her sex. A finger slid along the hot, wet flesh there and he bit his lip when he felt how ready she was for him.

Théalyn’s hands clutched at Éomer’s arms and her head titled back. Éomer’s lips fastened onto the skin of her throat and she felt his teeth nipping sharply before his tongue soothed. Her voice was airy and shaking as she said his name. His free hand tugged at her breeches and he pulled them over the curve of her backside, letting his palm slide over the firm flesh and muscle. The leather garment fell to the floor and Théalyn stepped out of them and made to sit down to take off her boots.

As soon as she was seated, however, Éomer had other plans. He immediately pushed against her shoulder so that she sprawled back onto the pile of furs, her fair hair fanned out around her head. The sight of her on his bed was sweet; she still wore her fur-lined boots and the leather wrist gauntlets that made her a warrior, but she was naked otherwise, and vulnerable. Her skin was tanned and lined here and there with white scar tissue, but the Horse Lord thought her perfect. He saw her tremble; he saw the sheen of sweat on her body and the way her eyes were ablaze with lust. Groaning, he caught her knees and knelt between her legs, watching the way her sex parted for him. The faint scent of her sweet musk filled his nostrils and he licked his lips in anticipation.

Théalyn watched as Éomer crawled over her with a predatory look in his eyes. Her body shook with need and she expected him to lay his body down on hers and take comfort in the warmth they created. Instead, to her surprise, he lowered his mouth against the smooth plane of her stomach, and placed wet, open mouthed kisses there.

“Do you know what I thought of those nights I was banished?” Éomer whispered against her flesh. His tongue slid out and traced the edge of her navel.

Théalyn whimpered and raked her fingers through Éomer’s hair, holding him in place. He looked up then, making sure that she was paying attention, and she shook her head to answer his question.

Grinning, Éomer turned his attentions back to Théalyn’s torso. “I thought about you and I like this…you, on your back, waiting for me to do with you what I please.” He stopped then and the tip of his tongue traced a small, curling line down from her navel to where the light dusting of golden hair that hid her sex began. He felt her fingers flex against his head and he shook her off then, sitting up and leaning over her body.

Gently, he took both of her hands in one of his and he stretched her body out taut among the furs. He held her hands over her head for a moment and he looked into her eyes as he slid his other hand down the underside of her arm and along her side. He watched her writhe in his grip and she arched towards him, searching for contact. Éomer smiled then and slowly let go of her wrists.

Bending to her ear, he kissed her cheek softly, and she inhaled his scent deeply. He whispered “Don’t move,” to her and she found herself nodding frantically, eager for him to get on with his task.

Théalyn closed her eyes as she felt Éomer move from the bed. She concentrated on her breathing then, and listened to the faint sounds of what she guessed to be Éomer’s breeches hitting the floor. She shivered as a cool draft suddenly swept through the room. Her nipples tightened sharply and she hissed.

“Shhh,” Éomer soothed. He licked his lips as he watched the goose bumps rise on Théalyn’s skin and moved to the bed again, kneeling once more between her spread thighs. She seemed to relax a bit at the return of his presence and Éomer wasted no time reaching forward and cupping Théalyn’s breasts once again. He bent his head to them and kissed each one in turn before sucking one nipple into his mouth and flicking his tongue over it.

Théalyn’s eyes shot open and her body surged upwards. Forcing her hands to stay where they were, she looked down at the sight of Éomer’s mouth on her breast. He growled against the sensitive flesh and looked up from under his eyebrows to meet Théalyn’s gaze. She gasped then and her body shook. Leaving off one nipple, Éomer moved to the other and he bit it sharply with his teeth, making Théalyn sob loudly. His beard was scraping her and it made the tender skin red, but she didn’t care. Nothing had ever felt more wondrous, more amazing, than Éomer’s hands and lips and body on hers.

“Éomer, please!” she moaned, almost on the brink of tears.

He smiled against her breasts but continued his torture, content on biting and sucking the hard peaks for the time being. Slowly, he began making his way down her body once more and soon he was hovering between her thighs, his breath washing over her. He pressed his nose to her thigh, smelling her skin, and he tasted it with his tongue. Éomer watched her legs shake and he knew that she was humming with desire. His eyes flickered down and became dark and heated when he saw the moisture of her arousal weeping from her core. Groaning, he could not resist kissing her gently there.

Théalyn’s hips snapped up sharply and she let out a startled cry before trying to twist away from Éomer’s assault. She had never had a man kiss her there before, and the sensation was alien, but not entirely unpleasant. She blinked as Éomer looked up at her with a question in his eyes.

“Is this all right?” He asked, concerned with making her feel uncomfortable.

“I’ve never…” She was flustered and she felt a blush creep into her cheeks. She looked away, embarrassed to meet his eyes, and she hid her face in the curve of her arm. “No one…”

“No one has ever done that before, am I right?” Éomer was touched at her innocence. He had been her first for many things, but he did not think that this would be one of them. A smile made up of pure male pride lit up his features and he felt his chest swell with something he thought might be love. “Look at me, Théalyn.”

The woman beneath him hesitated but eventually she met his eyes. She gasped at the flames of excitement that burned there and swallowed thickly. “Have you…”

“A few times,” Éomer answered gently. “And I would not do it if I did not feel so strongly for you. This…this is intimate, Théalyn. This is between you and me.” He paused for a moment and then looked back up at her, cocking an eyebrow. “Did you like it?”

“I…” she bit her lip and nodded. “Yes. I did.”

“Good,” Éomer answered before lowering his head once more.

This time he pressed the flat of his tongue fully against Théalyn’s heated flesh and he tasted her completely. She was sweet, with a heady muskiness, and Éomer savored her before he pushed his mouth against her once more. Théalyn cried out, her stomach clenching and causing her body to arch up, and she whimpered. Her eyes widened and greedily drank in the sight of Éomer stretched out between her thighs. His shoulders were wedged under her knees and he held her open to his mouth with his hands. He sucked and licked at her, teasing her swollen flesh with a clever tongue, and he closed his eyes and savored every noise she made.

She panted his name over and over again and her toes curled as white hot flashes washed up and down her spine. Everywhere she tingled and her eyes screwed shut as Éomer’s tongue circled her clit and he eased two fingers into her tight opening. A harsh cry was torn from her mouth and she released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Immediately she sat up, propping her elbows behind her and pulling her knees closer to her chest. Éomer looked up at her movement and pulled his mouth from her sex to speak.

“Should I stop?” he asked with a devilish gleam in his eyes.

Théalyn tilted her head down sharply and scowled at Éomer. “Did I tell you to stop?” she hissed. Suddenly, her fingers wound into Éomer’s thick hair and she guided his mouth back to where she wanted it. “More,” she whispered.

“Mmmm,” Éomer agreed, flicking his tongue out yet again. His fingers slid in and out of her with ease and he felt her walls clutching at the digits, trying to hold onto him, and he closed his eyes briefly as a shudder of arousal washed down his spine. He couldn’t wait to be inside of her fully, to feel her knees hugging his sides and her hands clutching at his shoulders. Deciding that he could not wait any longer, Éomer gave Théalyn’s sex one more swipe of his tongue and then he crawled back up her body. His fingers still moved within her, their pace increasing, and he felt her body begin to tense and relax rhythmically.

Her eyes opened and she was delighted to see Éomer now poised above her, hard and naked and ready. His mouth was on hers in an instant and just as his tongue brushed against hers in a silky caress, he sank his length into her, pushing until he could go no further. Only then did he pause to feel Théalyn’s muscles flutter around his erection. Her eyes grew wide and then narrowed as Éomer gave a few slow thrusts, adjusting his position. She hissed and then sighed, titling her head back amongst the furs.

As he moved, Éomer kept his gaze locked with Théalyn’s, watching as the pale blue irises became clouded with lust and turned a deep slate gray. Her pupils were black and endless in the dim light and he saw her tongue dart out to run across her lips. She then reached for Éomer’s face and pulled him down, tasting his lips as well. He groaned lowly and ground his hips against hers. Stretching out the length of his body, he lay belly to belly with her and was in awe of the warmth and softness he felt. The days that had passed had been cold and hard; cruel at best. As her breasts pushed against his hard chest he sighed and closed his eyes and buried his face in the crook of Théalyn’s neck. He knew he was home.

Théalyn pushed her hips up then and cradled Éomer’s lean body between her thighs. Bracing his arms on either side of her head, he pushed up and away from her body, still making sure to keep contact at their pelvises. Her hands wandered along the broad expanse of his shoulders and she pushed her tongue back into his mouth as she scraped her thumbnails over his pebbled nipples. Éomer inhaled sharply at the sensation and he rocked his hips against hers again, this time with more force.

His mouth fused against hers wholly this time and he took control of the kiss, letting Théalyn slip away only long enough for breath before taking her mouth prisoner once more. He rose to his knees then and his hands slid down to hold her thighs at his hips. She tangled her fingers through his hair and pulled like he had done so many times to her. He obliged and tilted his head back, feeling his bottom lip snag between her teeth only to be released a moment later. She lapped at his throat and sucked his chin, tasting the salt of his sweat.

Théalyn then felt the slickness of the skin behind her knees and along her chest. The temperature in Éomer’s room had risen steadily with their lust and now their bodies shone in the firelight, lean and gilded and close. A guttural moan escaped Éomer’s throat and he curled an arm under Théalyn’s back, holding her body against his as his hips began a punishing beat.

Gone were the soft whispers and gentle caresses they had started with. Éomer’s eyes burned with green flame as he tilted Théalyn’s hips up. Driving forward again, he was rewarded with a startled cry and wide blue eyes. The Horse Lord was relentless in his rhythm, but he kept it steady, kept it deep, and he made Théalyn’s voice rise in the still confines of his room.

Soon his voice matched hers and he panted her name and his love for her and her body. A chill spread out over his bronzed skin and he sat back on his heels, slowing his movements and pulling Théalyn onto his thighs as he held her hips fast. He thrust forward again and was rewarded with Théalyn’s wail. It was a high and keening sound and Éomer absently wondered if anyone outside of his room would hear it. Then her muscles were tightening around him and his mind returned to her. She looked thoroughly debauched and Éomer now looked down to where their bodies were joined. He watched as his erection slid in and out of Théalyn’s body and he pressed his thumb against her clit, rubbing in hard, tight circles.

“Éomer!” she cried out sharply. Her hips bucked and her breath came in great heaving gasps as her blood rushed to the surface of her skin and made her glow. Suddenly, she froze, her body tightening everywhere, and there was silence. A moment later she was sobbing breathlessly as she tumbled over the edge of pleasure. She trembled beneath Éomer.

He was close behind her and his hips faltered only slightly before he laid Théalyn back down among the furs and pressed his body against hers once more. He pushed slowly but deeply and came, moaning against the damp skin of her shoulder.

The only sound for a while was that of panting as Éomer and Théalyn struggled to gain some composure. Éomer’s hands were gentle as he stroked the soft skin of Théalyn’s hips and he raised his head to fuse his mouth to hers in a slow kiss. He shuddered as he felt her clench around him once more. Then she moved beneath him, almost restlessly, and Éomer pulled back and opened his eyes, searching her face.

“You are not leaving so soon, are you?”

Théalyn’s eyes wandered to the window on the other side of the room and saw that the sky was still dark. It would not be for long, however, and she pushed at Éomer’s shoulder. Reluctantly he moved, and he watched her pull herself to a sitting position and make for the edge of the bed. He caught her upper arm in a strong grip and pulled her back, forcing her to lie beneath him once more. He reclined on his side and threw a long leg over hers, trapping her for the time being.

“You said you would not leave my side.” His voice was soft and Théalyn detected a hint of pain in the deep timbre.

“It would not be wise to have your uncle or your sister happen upon us in the morning, Éomer.”

Smiling, the Horse Lord shook his head and kissed the corner of her mouth. He pulled back again to look into her eyes. “Gamling will be the one to collect me in the morning. And I want you here, with me.” He watched her open her mouth to argue but he rushed to continue. “Besides, the bed is warm and you are tired, I am certain.” He lay on his back then and pulled Théalyn into his arms, arranging her across his chest.

She was silent for a moment and then she felt Éomer’s hands gently smoothing down her back and gliding through her hair. Propping herself up on one arm she looked down at him with a raised eyebrow. “If I am tired, then it is because you have worn me out.” She grinned as she felt him chuckle.

“I won’t ask you again,” Éomer whispered. “Stay here and greet the morning with me.”

“And greet Gamling as well?”

Éomer shrugged and tucked a strand of Théalyn’s hair behind her ear. “He had better get used to it.”

Grey eyes searched Éomer’s face for a moment and she waited for him to speak again. When he did not, Théalyn touched his face with gentle fingers and kissed his chin. “I thought Horse Lords couldn’t choose who they married.”

“Old practices from an Old Rohan,” Éomer mused. “Middle Earth is changing, Théalyn, and with it, so does the world of men.” He gently pressed her head back down to his shoulder and smiled as he felt her breath float across his chest. Soon, they were both silent and sleep took hold of them, and the night kept watch.

****
TBC