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[hlaefdige]

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[wolfdogwitcher]

He looks around a moment, thinking that this might be the nicest bedroom he's ever been invited into by a lover, and then proceeds to shed his clothes shamelessly. He wouldn't want to spread the dust of the road around more than he already has so it seems best to leave boots and leather trousers and his gear a on the floor in a pile.

He lets her see to her dress: he's probably already stained it, he doesn't need to tear it as well.

[hlaefdige]

Maybe it's not very romantic, the way they let go of each other to undress themselves, but it is very practical. Éomer has become much better at getting herself out of the clothes she apparently must wear, even if she still sometimes requires help getting into them.

Whatever stains there might be on her gown are to the inner lining only, and hopefully easily enough washed out; she lets the thing slip off her shoulders and slither down her arms, stepping out of the puddle of fabric without shame and bending to pick it up so she can drape it over the back of one of the chairs.

"Will you light the hearth for us?" she asks, remembering the way he was able to send fire skittering over his fingers the day she met him.

[wolfdogwitcher]

"If you can want." He says, circling closer to the fireplace. A snap of his fingers and the fireplace is quickly lit by crimson flames that throw his scars into stark contrast. The sparks on his fingertips are easily shaken off and fizzle into nothing. "Neat party trick, huh?"

[hlaefdige]

"I'm not sure I will ever not be impressed by it," she confesses, watching him as he shakes sparks away from his skin and marveling at it despite the fact that she's seen him do it before.

"Oh, have you eaten? I could call for some things, if you like," she adds, indicating the little dangling rope at the side of the bed, the one that connects to a series of bells deeper within Meduseld, that will ring to alert the servants that the royal family needs something. Her grandmother had them installed when she came to Edoras, and they haven't been used much since her death, but they still work. She could ask for a place of meat and cheese and bread to be brought.

[wolfdogwitcher]

"I'm alright. I'm not about to cause a scene like..." He gestures to the bulk of his naked form. "I mean if you're hungry that's one thing, but I'll be alright until morning." He glances back at the fire. "I hate to ruin the mystery but we can all do that." He laughs. "I mean, I'm the best at magic among the Wolves but all full-fledged witchers can start a fire. Probably."

[hlaefdige]

She raises her eyebrows at him. "Do you think the serving staff have never seen a naked man before?" she teases, shaking her head. Perhaps they've never seen a naked witcher, sure, but Éomer can attest to the fact that, despite all the rumors she's heard to the contrary, he looks just like any other naked man she's seen, if perhaps more muscular and more scarred. "You can get into bed if you're feeling shy."

As for the fire, she waves her hand at him much like she did before at the mention of her paperwork. "I can start a fire too, that's not the point. I rather like being impressed by you, stop trying to ruin it."

[wolfdogwitcher]

"A naked witcher unannounced in the queen's bedchamber? The last thing I want is to have to defend myself with my dick out." He says, though he does stretch out on the bed, watching her with those gleaming amber eyes. "Come on, darlin'... been dreaming of curling up with you all goddamn winter."

[hlaefdige]

Warmed by the fire and his frank gaze both, Éomer does as she's bid and follows him to the side of the bed, leaving her woolen slippers kicked off haphazardly somewhere off to the side as she climbs up beside him and drapes herself easily against his side.

Propping her chin up on one hand, she smiles down at him, and reaches across his chest to trace her fingers across the scars the sewed up for him all those long months ago. "If you think you are unannounced..." She laughs, bending her head to brush a kiss to his chest, mostly so she can hide her smile a little until it's less broad, less like she is making fun of him. She is, but only a little. "The servants knew you were here before even I did, my dear. Gossip spreads quickly within halls such as these."

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Yeah?" He says, looping an arm around her shoulders. He's not sure how he feels about that: she's a newly fledged queen, the last thing he wants to do is tarnish her; they say such awful things about women who lie with witchers.

[hlaefdige]

They can say whatever the like about her, gods know they already do. If her decision to take a witcher for a lover is what will make some peasant farmer decide to disdain her, well. It matters little in the grand scheme of things. Her people may hate her if they please, but she will still do everything in her power to protect them.

"I am afforded no privacy, now," she says, shifting to rest her head on his shoulder and hook one thigh over his. "I gave it up for this." Her hand lifts off his chest to touch the torque around her neck, skin-warm but still all-too heavy.

[wolfdogwitcher]

He imagines she had little privacy to begin with, soldiers are often accustomed to such things. And he's certain she had plenty of little wine-colored impressions of Eskel's teeth on her neck and shoulders anyway when she had ridden out that morning.

He touches the torque admiringly. "You wear it well." He says, kissing her on the top of the head. "You will be a brave and fierce queen indeed." He promises. "The queen who tamed a wolf." He turns his tone to teasing, even if his face suddenly burns. Why had he said that? He suddenly knows why his brother is always saying dumbshit things around his variable harem of mages.

[hlaefdige]

She certainly had, and she had been a little sad to watch them fade, to realize that the bruises on her hips and thighs from his grasping fingers and the edge of the table she'd been slammed into repeatedly stopped hurting and then disappeared after only a few days. It was like their time together ceased to exist as well, and only the lingering mocking she had to suffer through from her riders proved that she hadn't dreamed up the witcher whose life she held in her hands.

"Brave and fierce is all well and good," she replies, more pleased than she thinks she probably should be by the 'tamed' comment, though she lets it slide for his sake as well as hers, only letting herself nuzzle his chest for a moment before continuing. "I am called a lioness for a reason. But prowess in battle is not the same thing as the ability to govern, and I was never a very attentive pupil as a girl."

She sighs, shifting herself a little so she can settle her hand on his chest and prop her chin up on the back of it, admiring the dull red flush that's slowly fading from his face. "In any case, I am glad you have come back to me." Even if he won't stay very long.

[wolfdogwitcher]

He's hoping she didn't notice either the flush or the foolishness of the comments.

"You'll learn though. You're clever." He keeps paying her all these compliments when he barely knows her, but he doesn't think he's wrong. "And I'm glad to be here. And so warmly welcomed." He reaches down to squeeze her backside. "I won't distract you for too long, but I'd be honored to keep you company for a bit."

[hlaefdige]

She absolutely noticed both, and has tucked both away to be considered at a later date, when she is feeling particularly sorry for herself and would like the reassurance that there is one man, at least, who thinks she is worth paying foolish and unpolished compliments made all the more sweet in their sincerity.

"I suspect I will always welcome you warmly, Eskel," she tells him solemnly, feeling the desire to reward him for returning to her with a few too-honest comments of her own. His big paw gripping her bottom sets her grinning at him, her eyes twinkling in the glow from the fire.

"Perhaps if you are not too tired, in the morning you could join some of my men in the training fields. I suspect they would be very interested to test their strength against yours." And, hopefully, him getting all sweaty and exchanging a few blows with them will endear him to them all the more, further cementing his welcome the next time he blows into town. Plus, as much as it pains her, she will need to get some work done eventually, and he will distract her far too much if he hangs around watching her struggle over her sums.

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Alright. I promise to be careful with them." He says. Truthfully, he might not mind a little sparring. As much an opportunity to show off as to exercise. "I am capable of restraint, perhaps I will just sit and read while you work." He might be more comfortable doing that then hanging about the chamber full of many staring eyes that he assumes the throne room to be.

[hlaefdige]

"Do not trounce them too badly, they may never forgive you," she teases. She wants her riders to grow to accept the man she has taken for her lover, not to resent him. Witchers are rare in the Riddermark, which is both a blessing and a curse as far as their reputations are concerned, as tales about them are told less frequently but also there are fewer chances to correct any false assumptions. Eskel will have to be something of an ambassador while he is in her kingdom.

She sighs, scrunching her face up as she contemplates the day ahead. "You may wish to stay down with the éoreds at least until supper," she continues. "I must hold court tomorrow, and I fear it will be dreadfully boring to you. Property disputes and marriage applications, all things that must be brought to me to decide upon whether they interest me or not."

[wolfdogwitcher]

"It would be boring." He concedes. "And nothing I would be helpful with. I shall take in your soldiers and stables instead. I should see how Miruvor is settling in anyhow. Even if it will be hard to get up in the morning."

[hlaefdige]

Shifting herself, she eels up the bed a little until she can lift her chin and kiss him properly, smiling against his torn lip.

"Court will not start until after luncheon," she promises. Training, of course would start in the morning, just after dawn as is standard. And she will have to get up and get out of bed long before court begins so that she can be dressed to the exacting standards of her chambermaids, but for now, it's nice to pretend that they will be allowed to lounge around in bed until noon together.

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Mmm. Still...I shouldn't keep you up all night." A declaration a bit at odds with the way his hands lazily wander.

[hlaefdige]

"No, you're right, you shouldn't," she agrees, arching into the press of his hand like a cat being petted. She would be content enough to drift off to sleep right now, held in his strong arms as she is, but the spark of her arousal hasn't completely been smothered yet, and if he keeps touching her like that, she's going to want to go again.

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Mmm." He hums against the pale curls. "Perhaps I'll wait. Give you something to look forward to tomorrow night. And he'd be lying if he said he wasn't tired from sleeping rough and riding a long way, taking as many contracts as he could along the way. Indeed, he still has one hand resting on one of her breasts a moment later when she might feel his barrel chest rumble with a long exhale and turns his face sleepily into the pillows.

[hlaefdige]

Amused by how quickly he seems to settle down, Éomer lifts her head from his chest so she can watch him all but melt back into her bed, his exotic dark hair rumpled against the fine linen pillows, the warm firelight flickering across the planes of his face like a lover's caress.

Instead of poking him awake, or making some sort of quip to prolong their conversation, she lets herself settle as well, watching him until she is fairly certain he has fallen asleep, struck by the raw trust in that gesture. Here he is, in her bed, in her kingdom, as naked as the day he was born with his weapons all the way across the room. She could slit his throat if she so wished, or drip poison past his lips if the spirit moved her to do it, and she might even succeed.

Not that she would, of course. She has known Eskel less than a week's worth of days combined, but already she is more than passing fond of him, and the thought of harm coming to him distresses her intensely.

Slowly, carefully, she extricates herself from under his heavy arm and slips from the bed so she can pad about the room barefoot, tidying up their discarded clothing and banking the fire for the night, not wanting to give the servants who will come in to rouse her in the morning too much of a fright. It takes some creative maneuvering to winkle the blankets out from beneath him but she manages eventually, and when she climbs back into bed to settle down beside him, she covers them both first with a cool sheet and then with a warm blanket, then pulls the curtains closed around the bed to block out the light and keep in the heat.

Settling down beside him in the now near-dark, she waits for her eyes to adjust as much as possible so that she can watch him sleep.

[wolfdogwitcher]

Witchers rarely get the chance at real sleep. On the road, he meditates more than he sleeps, an in-between state that does more for the mind than the body. Half reliant on Miruvor to keep watch. On the off chance he's sleeping in an in, there's still a need for wariness, this time from the humans who might catch him of guard. The only time he sleeps deeply, is in Kaer Morhen. The only place he can trust there's someone to watch over him.

For him to be so asleep in Éomer's arms is a show of immense trust that cannot be overstated.

[hlaefdige]

She may not fully grasp the extent of the gesture he is giving her, but she's got some idea based on her own experiences as a soldier. That she could move around him without him cracking open an eye to watch her, that she could move the blankets beneath him without him asking her what she's doing...

She carefully leans in and brushes her lips to his cheek, murmuring a quiet wish for pleasant dreams in her native tongue against the cut of his jaw, and then curls up against him and closes her eyes.

[wolfdogwitcher]

He sleeps so deeply he's confused when he wakes up. The smell of Éomer beside him, the warmth of her body, makes him think he's dreamt the previous night and all the ones before it. He has to check momentarily to see that he's not still wounded, that he's not still sleeping beside her in the little cottage where he laid lain for weeks recovering from his injuries.

Everything comes back to him quite swiftly, however, when he spots the thing that woke him-- a fair-haired maid of barely sixteen standing at the foot of the bed and looking lol a deer caught in the eyes of a hound.

"Um..." She begins, blushing scarlet.

"It's alright." Eskel says, gently shaking Éomer's shoulder. "Éomer, duty calls, I think."