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[hlaefdige]

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[wolfdogwitcher]

With the maid's back to them, he dares to kiss her quickly on the back of the hand before finishing his tea. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't looking forward to a day sporting with his men and exploring as much of the city as he can before the discomfort sets in and he returns to her side. He shrugs into his shirt and his jacket, gear jingling.

[hlaefdige]

There is an indrawn gasp of breath from the other side of the room, Léofrith having turned around with her choice for Éomer's wardrobe and presumably startled by the sight of a witcher fully-dressed standing in front of her naked queen, but Éomer does not back away from Eskel even as he does up the last of his buckles, nor does she take her eyes from his.

"Enjoy your day, dêore," she tells him, picking a Rohirric endearment both because she felt like it, but also to send a message to the girl watching them fearfully.

[wolfdogwitcher]

He bows to her and then to her maid and leaves by the same door he was led through. He only gets lost once looking for Éothain and the others. The man is more or less welcoming, and Eskel accepts some ribbing in combination with some very good sparring. He gives Éothain a fair fight but still knocks him on his ass.

When he returns, he slips into the back of the throne room to watch her for a while.

[hlaefdige]

Whether or not that message was received is anyone's guess. Léofrith is well-trained enough to keep her opinions to herself unless asked for them, and Éomer does not particularly wish to have this conversation at all, least of all with her chambermaid, so she lets the matter drop and finishes getting dressed.

As she had feared, her day drags on, a morning of meetings with the Marshals of her army segueing into the King's Court — well, now it is the Queen's Court, isn't it — after a wolfed-down luncheon of fresh bread and hard cheese with a tankard of ale to wash it down. It is a terribly dull affair, and before her uncle's death, Gríma Wormtongue had done away with the practice, citing the king's ailing health. There are times Éomer wishes she had not reinstated it, no matter how much she needed to be seen and trusted by her people; deciding over whether or not one farmer moved the boundary between his field and another is mind-numbingly boring, and even the discussion about whether or not recompense should be paid by the owner of a stallion who broke free from his paddock and covered his neighbor's mare is not that much more interesting.

The law was clear: compensation for an unplanned breeding to the mare’s owner and a fine because the stallion hadn’t been properly penned. In principle Éomer disapproved strongly of anybody who did not control their horses, saddling other people with unwanted foals. However, since everyone agreed that Greycoat was a much finer animal than anything the mare’s owner could otherwise have afforded — indeed there even was the suspicion voiced that he had let the stallion out himself — Éomer decrees that the mare’s owner could choose between compensation by his neighbor and giving him the foal or no compensation and keeping it himself. Unsurprisingly, the man chooses the latter.

She notices Eskel shadowing the edges of the hall at some point, though she is not entirely sure how long he has been lurking, but as much as she might like to, she cannot hurry things along. Each case must be brought before her and decided upon, and the whole affair will take as long as it takes.

[wolfdogwitcher]

He has little idea of what's going on, since what he had learned of the local tongue was very limited. He can tell it seems like relatively petty disputes.

Once he catches her eye, he winks and then slips off again. She'll find him in her library, reading at her desk with his feet propped and up and generally looking very content. He also appears to have washed himself some-- in cold water, whatever was in her rooms, but he's at least taken off all the mud and sweat.

[hlaefdige]

Eventually, after what feels like days but is probably only between one hour and two, the court disperses and she is set free.

Nimbly dodging Guthlaf who tries to speak to her about some undoubtedly important matter, Éomer lifts her skirts and strides through the rabbit-warren halls of Meduseld, doing her best to avoid running into anyone who might waylay her on her quest for privacy.

As she hoped, Eskel had let himself into her rooms again, whether because someone had allowed him access or he just didn't let them deny him it, and is seated at her desk with a book in hand.

"You look comfortable," she says, shutting the door behind her and moving straight towards him, settling herself in his lap like she has every right to do so and leaning back against his chest with a dramatic sigh. "I hope you had a better day than I did."

[wolfdogwitcher]

"More comfortable now." He snorts, even though he has to shift a bit to accommodate her properly as she unexpectedly sinks into his lap. He loops his arms around her.

"Didn't look especially exciting, I'll admit." He says, kissing her shoulder.

[hlaefdige]

He really can't be surprised she decided to sit on him, considering he took the only available chair.

Also, he's a large, muscular man with thighs like tree trunks. A perfect seat, in her opinion.

"My uncle's mage convinced him to cease holding court and allowing petitions years ago when he first started to enchant the king, to take away his strength in an effort to hasten our fall," she murmurs, tilting her head a little to the side to make room for him and lifting her hand to cup his cheek as he presses his mouth to her shoulder. "I decided to bring it back. I almost wish I hadn't."

[wolfdogwitcher]

"And yet you did, because you are a good and responsible queen." He says, kissing her shoulder and up the side of her neck, above her queen's torque. He nips her ear and one hand smooths over her hip, following the line of her belt.

[hlaefdige]

She snorts, a rather unladylike sound. "Flattery will get you nowhere with me, witcher," she retorts, a bald-faced lie considering the way she shivers as his teeth catch at her ear, the way her fingers stroke gently over the side of his face.

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Hmmm." He doesn't sound especially sorry. "Done for the day?" He asks, hopefully, his hands finding their way to her thighs, blunt fingers caressing through the fabric of her dress.

[hlaefdige]

"I will need to be present for supper," she admits eventually, a little distracted by the pass of his hands over her body even through her dress. "You are welcome to join me if you like. It will not be a terribly formal affair."

[wolfdogwitcher]

He groans and rests his hands on her waist with a sigh.

"Guess I better behave myself." He says, with his lopsided grin. "Not sure sure I can dress for dinner, not well enough so that I can sit beside the queen. "

[hlaefdige]

"Eskel," she starts with a little laugh, "what good is being queen if I can't dictate who can and cannot dine with me?"

Using the fingers she's been taking along the edge of his jaw, she coaxes him to turn his head just enough that she can brush a kiss to the edge of his mouth. "Dress as you are. We can have your things washed tonight, after." When she's got him naked in her bed again.

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Aren't there rules?" He laughs. "I've never been the lover of a queen, but I'm pretty sure there are rules. My jacket was pretty muddy. Will this shirt do?" It's a spare, which has some visible mends but at least it's reasonably clean.

He knows he should let her up, but it's so nice to have her settled across his hips like this.

[hlaefdige]

She waves her hand. "Probably." They do not stand on much ceremony, here in the Mark, but yes, there are rules. For formal functions, at least. For a mid-week super, with no visiting dignitaries or nobles from far-off territories, there's not much point in standing on ceremony. By all accounts, Eskel could be considered an emissary from a foreign land, and would therefore be expected to sit beside her! "I will see if there is aught in storage that might suit you," she adds. "My cousin was a large man, but I fear you are larger still."

Shifting a little in his lap, she arranges herself to be more comfortable, curling her arm around his shoulders and slowly raking her fingers through his hair. "Tell me about your day?"

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Good news, I think I ingratiated myself to your soldiers." He laughs. "There were bruises all around, but all was forgiven after lunch. Also, I learned a new dice game and lost a little coin, which soothed any bruised egos, I figure. I dropped in to see how things were going for you, but don't know enough of the tongue to get legal matters. So I've been sitting around reading since then, and occasionally scaring a servant."

[hlaefdige]

She smiles fondly at him and tweaks a lock of his hair with a gentle tug. "Details, Eskel. How am I to pretend I was there with you if you don't give me any details? But I am glad things went well."

She hadn't been worried, per se, but it's a relief to know that soldiers are soldiers always, and a game of fisticuffs and dice are usually all it takes to ingratiate yourself with them no matter where you are from.

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Mm-!" He growls playfully at her when she tugs his hair. "There's nothing to tell! Nothing exciting anyway. Unless you want a blow by blow of how I knocked Éothain on his ass. But at that point I suspect you're just delaying dinner."

[hlaefdige]

Oh yes, he does like that. She'll remember that for later. For now, though, she lets his hair go and instead brushes a few loose strands back behind his ear instead.

"I don't know what you could possibly mean," she teases, affecting an innocent air as she strokes her thumb against the baby-fine hairs at the base of his ear with the pad of her thumb.

[wolfdogwitcher]

"You know full well what I mean. And I can't develop a reputation of distracting the queen from her duties." He does kiss her, however, and give her backside a good squeeze. "Though I may not be able to help myself for having had to sit through dinner with you so close but inadvisable for me to so brazenly touch."

[hlaefdige]

"Can't you?" Of course he can't, even she knows that. Still, it's fun to at least pretend she will allow herself to shirk her duties while her lover is in residence. "Whyever not?"

Relenting a little, she pulls away from his kiss and sighs. "Perhaps we may retire early. I have such a dreadful headache, you see."

[wolfdogwitcher]

He shakes his head. "No one will believe for a moment I am tending to you while you're suffering. As you said, the servants carry gossip." He grins. "No, we'll get through dinner and then I promise I'll reward your patience."

[hlaefdige]

She laughs, conceding defeat. He's right, not a single soul in the entire hall will believe he is doing anything more than bending her in half and fucking her with all the pent-up fury a year or more's separation can bring.

"Alright, alright. You'll have to let go of me, first. I can't very well attend the meal still sat in your lap."

[wolfdogwitcher]

He releases her reluctantly and rises, smoothing his shirt and adjusting his trousers.

"Promise, this will be as difficult for me." He teases. Perhaps more, for reasons other than the temptation of his lover just out of reach. After all, now everyone who dines with the queen will see him: her witcher with the ruined face. A stranger who doesn't speak the language, a dangerous and foreign thing.

"Maybe I oughta wait for you to come back." He says, after a moment.