The Greenwater

****
This time, when the dream came to Théalyn, she fought it as best she could. Images of fire and blood and pain rolled through her brain like the raging waters of the Anduin River and she heard the screams of men. She smelled the fires burning. She watched as Théoden’s body was tossed aside by the Witch King and she saw Éowyn, dressed as one of the Rohirrim, challenge the foul being.

She heard her name then and she turned to see Éomer riding Firefoot towards the heart of the battle. Coming upon the fallen bodies of his soldiers and enemies alike, he quickly dismounted and stepped around the bodies, his eyes wide with fear and pain, his voice loud in her ears.

“Théalyn, no!”

Théalyn tipped her head to the side, trying to figure out what had agitated Éomer so much. She shook her head and made to step forward when she saw Éomer’s face draw together in anger. He screamed then, a blood curdling war-cry and he pulled his sword, running to her as fast as he could. He yelled her name again and again until his voice became hoarse and his face was red with effort. Théalyn watched his green eyes flicker to a point just past her shoulder and suddenly she realized that Éomer was not running towards her, he was running to protect her. As her head whipped around to see what waited behind her, she felt a weight hit her in the back.

She stumbled forward and her hand clutched at her chest. Her gloved fingers recognized an arrowhead embedded in muscle and flesh and as she looked down to the bloodied point, she felt another bolt hammer into her other shoulder. A second arrow pierced her skin just beside her collar bone and she looked back to see Éomer already before her, his sword falling to the ground. Then she was falling too, like a sack of grain, and Éomer’s face twisted in pain as he leaned forward and caught her, cradling her to the ground and coming to rest on his knees. There was fire in her shoulders now and the pain was searing, almost unbearable. She heard her own voice gurgle from her throat and Éomer shook his head, begging her to be still for the time being. Her eyes grew heavy and her vision became blurred. She tried to speak but her mouth would not work and as darkness began to set in, she heard Éomer above her, begging her not to leave him yet. Not to leave him alone in this world so soon.

“You will not leave my side.”


Théalyn gasped as she started awake. She bolted upright with an anguished cry behind her lips. She swallowed it with difficulty as her eyes took in the dark but familiar surroundings of Éomer’s bedroom. The Horse Lord himself was sprawled on his stomach in the space next to Théalyn and the soft snoring he emitted told her that she had not disturbed his slumber. She shivered then as she looked down at his peaceful face and his words from her dream echoed in her ears. A cold knot of anxiety settled in the pit of her stomach and she frowned in discomfort. With the skills of a trained Ranger she slid from the bed without so much as a whisper and silently gathered her clothes. The dream was still fresh in her mind as she took one last look at Éomer’s sleeping form. She was not keen on leaving him, but she made it her goal to return before he awoke at dawn. Closing the door behind her, she slipped down the passage back towards the Golden Hall in hopes that the person she searched for would not be sleeping.

****

“Come in, child,” Théoden greeted softly as he opened his chamber door to find Théalyn on the other side. He moved back and allowed the woman to enter. He frowned at her agitation. She seemed distracted by something.

“I am sorry to come to you at this ungodly hour, uncle,” she began, turning back as Théoden closed the door.

The king waved his hand, dismissing her apology. “Think nothing of it. I was but dozing on the couch there,” he explained, pointing to a chaise near the fire. “It is not easy to sleep on the eve of battle.” He gestured for Théalyn to sit then and he poured her a tankard of warm, honeyed wine.

Théalyn wrapped her hands around the earthenware mug and sipped the drink slowly, savoring the elderberry and blackberry flavors that were mingled with cloves and wild honey. “It’s good,” she smiled softly.

Théoden’s eyes creased as he grinned. “It’s Éomer’s mother’s recipe. I have always found it soothing in hard times.” He watched as his foster niece fell silent and stared into her mug. “Something troubles you, girl,” he said finally.

Théalyn nodded slowly.

“Is it Éomer?”

Her blue eyes fixed on his immediately and Théoden’s mouth went up at the corner. “He has asked me to marry him,” Théalyn answered. She was silent as she waited for the king’s reaction.

Théoden rubbed at his chin. “Yes, I knew he would. He spoke to me of it only late yesterday afternoon.”

Théalyn sat back in her chair, staring into the fire. She looked at Théoden from out of the corner of her eye. “You seem fine with this.”

“I am more than fine with it, child. Nothing would make me happier.” He paused then as he watched Théalyn swirl her drink absently. “However,” he started slowly, leaning forward and laying a hand on Théalyn’s to stop her movement, “something tells me that you are less than fine with this.”

“I do not want to hurt him,” Théalyn began, choosing her words carefully.

Théoden frowned. “Would you do so willingly? I have seen you two together; the love between you two that cannot be challenged. No, Théalyn, I do not believe that you would hurt my sister-son.” The sound of a choked sob made him turn and he found Théalyn hiding her eyes behind her hand as her shoulders shook with emotion. Théoden set his tankard down and moved to where Théalyn sat, crouching before her seat. He pulled her hands from her face and held them in his own. “Why do you cry?”

Théalyn sniffled and blinked her tears away, biting at her lip. “I love him so much, uncle,” she said in a shaky voice. She took a deep breath and held it a moment as she searched for words. “And I cannot think what I would do without him.”

“Has he done something to upset you? To make you think that you would have to go on without him?”

Théalyn shook her head quickly, her eyes wide. “No. No, Éomer has done nothing but love me. It is suffocating at times and it is wild and passionate and foolish as well and…” she trailed off as her dream surfaced in her mind again. Closing her eyes, she spoke softly, “This war will be our undoing.”

Théoden laughed then, short and loud, and he shook his head. “Look at me, girl.”

Théalyn hesitated before she did as her uncle bade, and she found his smiling face looking up at her. She swallowed and then looked at him in wonderment. “Why do you laugh at me?”

“You came to me here tonight while I slept fitfully. No doubt every man in that hall is dreaming of death and bloodshed and pain. Do you think that Éomer sleeps soundly?” He watched Théalyn process this for a moment. “Every soldier dreams of the worst in times like these, Théalyn. If they did not, they would not fight to the death! Your fears will keep you sharp; they will make you choose your actions wisely.”

His words eased Théalyn a little, but she could not shake the vision from her sleep. Théoden sensed as much and squeezed her hands as he stood. He smoothed his palm down her face and cupped her cheek in a fatherly gesture. “Go back to Éomer before the sun rises. You need each other now. Hold him tight and remember the feeling of him in your arms and his breath on your cheek. It is those visions that will keep you from harm’s way as well. You must balance your emotions.” He then stepped aside and watched as Théalyn stood smoothly.

Théoden held his arm out to her and she took it, allowing herself to be led to the doorway. Once there, Théoden pulled Théalyn into a reassuring embrace and kissed her forehead. “You will keep Éomer safe, just as he has promised the same for you. And when this war is won, there will be a great feast for all of Edoras will celebrate your wedding.”

****
“All of Edoras will celebrate your wedding.”

The words of King Théoden tumbled around in Théalyn’s mind as she neared Éomer’s chamber door. It wasn’t like her to become so excited, especially over something so decidedly…feminine as a wedding. This was more Éowyn’s area of expertise, wasn’t it? After all, Théalyn did not care about gowns or garlands or gifts. She cared for Éomer and the future they would build together. She cared about his wellbeing as much as her own; she was fierce in her devotion to him. No other man had captured her heart the way the Horse Lord had and she had to smile as she thought of what sort of family they might have. She shook her head then. No. She could not think of something like that now. She had to survive this war and make sure Éomer did as well. Her decision made for the time being, Théalyn pressed the heavy door open and padded into her lover’s room.

The young Horse Lord still slept soundly. He had changed his position since she had left and he was now stretched out on his side, facing the door. The furs were pulled past his waist and his long, flaxen hair spilled down his back and across his shoulder. In his sleep, Théalyn decided, he looked so much more like the boy she had first met ten years ago. The worries of life seemed to leave him alone when he slept and Théalyn sighed contentedly as she pulled her clothing loose once more and slung them over the back of a chair. She paused to do the same for Éomer, knowing that a crumpled Rohirrim cloak in the morning would most likely bring a crumpled brow of a Horse Lord.

The feeling of mink fur rubbed across her naked skin and she moaned softly as she sank to the bed behind Éomer. Instantly she was curled about his back, her arm fitting snugly beneath his large hand and her leg coming up over his. She purred lowly as she rubbed the arch of her foot along his calf, and in his sleep, Éomer pushed back and sighed lowly, enjoying the feeling of Théalyn’s warmth.

“I was worried.”

Théalyn stiffened in surprise as she heard Éomer’s voice, soft with sleep, float towards her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered back before kissing his shoulder and rubbing her nose against the smooth, golden skin.

“I think that you should make it up to me,” he said with a playful tone.

“Oh?” Théalyn mused, chuckling against his back. Still, she slid her hand down his flank and rubbed at his hipbone, pulling a sigh from his throat. Her hand moved further and her fingers deftly curved around his manhood. She smiled when she felt it stir already and she stroked him gently. He was hard and ready in an instant and he pulled away only to turn onto his back and settle into the pillows behind him.

Théalyn perched over his body and smiled down at him. Her hand still moved, only a little faster this time, and her thumb pressed against the sensitive head with every pass. She watched Éomer tilt his head back and his eyes fluttered closed. He groaned, his nostrils flared and his thighs tense.

“Like this?” Théalyn whispered hotly, leaning forward to lick a wet path from his throat to his chin. Her tongue traced the outline of his lips and he gasped as her fist tightened around his cock.

He nodded, answering her question, and he spoke as well. “Yes,” he said softly. His eyes opened lazily and bored into Théalyn’s. “Will you wake me like this every morning?” His voice was a growl now and he watched Théalyn’s hand move up and down his engorged shaft. A great shudder rolled through his body then, making his toes curl beneath the pile of furs.

“Only if you promise to put me to bed every night like you did last night,” she countered with a saucy grin. Éomer moved to push Théalyn’s hand away so that he might pin her beneath him, but she shook her head sharply. “Be still.”

Éomer bit his lip but nodded, and he closed his eyes and let himself be taken over by the tremors of pleasure rippling up and down his spine. No one felt like Théalyn. He gritted his teeth and hissed as her other hand wrapped around him with the first and squeezed. “Harder,” he grunted. He opened his eyes when Théalyn gasped softly. “I will not break,” he said with a grin. “I like it harder.” His hand came down on hers and tightened, showing her what he liked best.

He groaned then and moved his hand, letting the woman above him take over completely. She had started a fire within him and it was consuming him, burning him whole from the inside out. He could think of nothing but the tingling in his belly and the tightening sensation in his groin. Théalyn leaned down, her lips next to his ear, and she whispered stolen words of love and coaxed him to the edge.

Her breathing soon matched his. She had seen Éomer on this precipice before, but never when she had not been there with him. Now, with her eyes open and watchful and her ears picking up every whimper, every moan, every whispered curse, she felt a different kind of pleasure course through her body. She was causing Éomer to feel this way; she would challenge anyone who sought to replace her. This Horse Lord was hers, just as she was his.

Éomer’s hips bucked sharply and he shouted out her name in a hoarse voice. His stomach tightened and he breathed deeply through his nose, his nostrils flared, and sweat formed on his brow. His eyes opened widely now and he watched Théalyn as she worked him over. She was taking pleasure in this, he was sure of it. Her pupils were dark and wide, and her skin was pleasantly flushed and glowing with perspiration. She swallowed and her eyes grew hazy with lust as she watched her hands stroke Éomer’s erection. Everything about the moment was amazing and beautiful and Éomer looked down to watch Théalyn’s hands once more before he sighed and let the pleasure take over completely.

A startled sound escaped Théalyn’s throat as she felt Éomer’s shaft throb in her grip and she watched in fascination as he came on her hands and against his stomach. He whimpered and made small sounds of pleasure in his throat as his orgasm consumed him. His back arched sharply and Théalyn’s hands continued to stroke him gently, bringing him back from the edge. He managed to lift a heavy hand and lay it on hers gently, asking her to stop her ministrations. His head hit the pillow and he groaned lowly, stretching his calf muscles. Smiling lazily, he opened his eyes once more and raised his other hand to stroke Théalyn’s cheek tenderly.

“That was perfect,” he said simply, tracing her lips with his thumb.

Théalyn moved from her spot and padded to the wash basin near the window. The water there was cool, but she dipped a cloth in anyway and wrung it out before turning back to Éomer. Crawling back onto the bed, she wiped her hand before setting to work on cleaning his belly and thighs. He laid back and let her, feeling completeness with the gesture.

She dropped the cloth to the stone floor with a plop before curling her body back around Éomer’s. Their legs tangled together and Éomer shifted to pull the furs back up, enveloping them in their softness and warmth, and creating a cocoon for them to share.

****
TBC