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[hlaefdige]

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[wolfdogwitcher]

"I think I'd look even more out of place." He laughs. "Witchers look ridiculous dressed up." Maybe that's because his brother's girlfriend dresses him, but Eskel's seen the finely embroidered doublets and tight trousers Geralt stashes in his room at Kaer Morhen-- always a new set when he comes back for the winter, Eskel thinks, as if he leaves them there in hopes he can duck formal obligations. And he doesn't think he'd look good in such things.

[hlaefdige]

"Have a little faith, mîn swæs." Imagining Eskel in more traditional Rohirric garb has quite a lot of appeal, actually. She thinks he'd look very handsome in the tunic and trews that she is used to the men around her wearing.

She's not quite sure it's enough of an incentive for her to try and break out her embroidery needles, though. Making him wear something she's put her needle in feels more like a punishment for him than for her.

"Red or blue?" she asks finally, reaching out and touching two different sleeves that hang in front of them.

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Blue?" He suggests. He thinks he dresses pretty well, within the practicality needed for his profession, but hell if he knows how ladies like to dress. But he thinks the blue with compliment his lover's eyes, which appeals to him specifically.

[hlaefdige]

She retrieves the blue dress and then closes the wardrobe doors, allowing herself one more moment to lean back against Eskel's chest and enjoy the feel of his arms looped around her, so casually proprietary.

"Are you sure you don't feel up to braving the great hall?" she asks, turning her head towards him so she can nudge the bridge of her nose against his jaw.

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Not tonight." He says, kissing her forehead. "Come on, I'll help you with the laces." He steps away. "I'd rather rest. It would kinda ruin the mood if I fell asleep while we were fucking, wouldn't it?" The more he thinks about it, the more he thinks it won't be so bad to rest his eyes for a while on her excellent mattress, however cowardly his motives.

[hlaefdige]

"Whatever else you may be, you are also a man, darling," she points out with a wry little smile; that is to say, it's not outside the realm of possibility regardless.

All that aside, she smiles at the sweet kiss and reluctantly extricates herself from his arms so she can change into a different gown to go eat in, regardless of the fact that the one she currently has on is perfectly fine and not even dirty yet.

The rules and mores she's expected to abide by at court are baffling at best. Honestly, Éomer much prefers life in the éored, even though she hopes against hope that she will never have to ride out with them again. She had been convinced that she would not survive Pelennor Fields, or the march on the Black Gates. That she has feels something like a cheat, almost, like she's not supposed to be here and everyone will realize any moment and she'll...well, the metaphor falls apart eventually, but still.

Turning her attention to the task at hand, she lets Eskel help her undress and then redress again, his big blunt fingers surprisingly deft at handling the small, fiddly laces of her gowns.

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Surprisingly deft" is the hallmark of the witcher. There are no men who are more graceful-- especially considering their stature--, nor more quick on their feet, or precise with a sword. Their fingers effortlessly form the gestures that conjure and tame magic, handle alchemical equipment and mend clothing and gear. The laces of her gown are nothing, once he figures out where the eyelets are.

[hlaefdige]

She would cite that as one of the reasons she finds him so attractive to her, but in reality, she has never seen him fight. The only experience Éomer has with Eskel's physical prowess is in the bedroom, and from there she has absolutely no complaints.

Her dress done, she turns back to him and smiles, opening her mouth to thank him when there's a knock at the door.

"Ah. I am being summoned, it seems." She leans in to kiss his cheek. "Enjoy your rest. I'll be back afore long."

[wolfdogwitcher]

He presses a fleeting kiss to her temple to see her off.

It's quiet in the bedroom when she's gone and he almost regrets his decision, as the solitude amplifies the sense of out-of-place-ness.

He does settle on the bed after a while, kicking off his boots and trousers so as not to get dirt on her bed clothes, and stretches out on top of the blankets. The bed is very comfortable and he's surprised to find himself genuinely nodding off before too long.

When his queen returns, she'll find him sprawled across the bed in just his shirt and small clothes.

[hlaefdige]

It's much later than she had hoped it would be by the time Éomer returns to her chambers, having fielded a fair number of questions about where the witcher might be, which she answered gracefully, and a few pointed comments about how wise it might be to allow one such freedom in her court, which she answered far less gracefully.

Her advisers want what is best for the line of Eorl, she understands that. Their primary concern is securing an heir for the throne so that the bloodline continues. She does not understand why they think that means they can involve themselves in her personal business thusly; Eskel will not be begetting any heirs by her, so it does not matter if he shares her bed. The greybeards that sit around her council table can either learn to live with it or they can leave.

Her sour mood only exacerbated by the fact that she had to stay in her seat and listen to the court bard recite what felt like endless hours of poetry, Éomer is not very happy when she lets herself into her rooms and forbids the chambermaids who try to follow her from entering, though the sight of Eskel sprawled out across her entire bed does make her smile.

He looks so peaceful, asleep as he is, that she tries to undress herself without waking him, cursing the little laces that do up her dress under her breath as she twists herself to try and release them without breaking them.

[wolfdogwitcher]

There's a low, sleepy noise from the bed and one dark amber eye flicks open.

"Need a hand?" He asks, stretching as he sits up, holding his arms out to her. "C'mere."

[hlaefdige]

Making a soft noise, she untwists her arms and moves over to the bed, perching on the edge of it and displaying her back to him, sweeping all her braided hair over one shoulder to expose the ties she was struggling with.

"I didn't mean to wake you," she says.

[wolfdogwitcher]

"I'm glad you did." He assures her, kneeling on the mattress and making quick work of her laces. Happy to kiss the back of her neck as he begins to strip her of her evening clothes.

[hlaefdige]

Breathing easier once the dress has been loosened a few degrees, she hums quietly and lets her head fall forward, displaying more of her neck to his questing lips as he helps her undress.

"Did you sleep well?"

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Mmhmm." He assures her, letting his hands wander plenty while he's methodically divesting her of this dress. "Must have needed it." He nips at her neck. "I did work myself ragged in the way." He laughs. "But I slept like a stone, so you'll find me wide awake now, I think."

[hlaefdige]

Diplomacy and other queenly duties exhaust her in ways being a soldier never could; Éomer is well-used to the physical fatigue of training or riding hard for weeks at a time, but some days even just a few meetings is all it takes for her to feel like curling up and taking a nap herself.

"You are welcome to rest here anytime, Eskel," she says quietly, smiling as he nips gently at her skin. "In any season."

Maybe it's a fantasy, but the idea that he might find it safe enough to return to her when he needs to recuperate is a nice one.

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Maybe I'll make a habit of it. Of stopping here before I loop back around and head home in the winter." He considers, gently tugging the dress from the shoulders so she can step out of it. "But it's unwise for me to promise."

[hlaefdige]

Straightening, she lets him peel the dress away from her, stepping out of it and bending to drape it over whatever part of furniture is closest so it won't crease too badly or collect any dirt from the floor when she's not wearing it.

"I, however, can promise to always be here," she replies, sounding both amused and wistful about it. She used to lead a rather nomadic life, too.

Not any more.

[wolfdogwitcher]

It doesn't really occur to him that she means being confined to the palace. He's just glad she still wants him to return to her. He stretches out on the bed and beckons her forward. "Come here, darlin'. I liked fucking you on the desk but it seems a waste of the bed."

[hlaefdige]

Pointing out that fucking on the bed might feel strange because this has always been her uncle's bed, in her mind, she pushes that aside and climbs up into bed as well, settling herself down at his side in the way that's become comfortable and natural after only a few times together.

She wants to ask him about returning home for the winter, if he does that every year, how much of his home is left for him to return to, but she is also aware that now is perhaps not the best time for such conversations, considering he seems in an amorous mood.

So instead she just leans in and kisses him slowly.

[wolfdogwitcher]

He's more than happy to just kiss her to start, though he does let his hands wander over her thighs as he leans into the kiss. Nudging her over onto her back, intending to settle on his knees between her thighs.

[hlaefdige]

Letting herself be nudged, Éomer shifts to get herself comfortable as Eskel looms over her, lifting her arms to twine them around his neck now that he's not wearing spiked armor to prevent her. He's so much more approachable like this, with his hair mussed from sleep, dressed only in his smalls and an un-laced chemise. Not that she, obviously, had any trouble approaching him any other time, of course, but still.

[wolfdogwitcher]

He loves the way her strong arms loop around him, the look of her laid out on the pillow beneath him. He's thought about how she'd look like this for miles. This and other ways; he wonders of she can steal some time to ride out with him: he'd love to see her with her flaxen hair laid out on the grass, her pale eyes the same color as the open sky. But he's happy to have her just like this for now...

He sits back on his heels and pulls his short off over his head, medallion jingling as it settles on his chest. He glances up at her, eyes glittering in the low light as he nips down her torso.

[hlaefdige]

If he voices that wish to her, she will do her utmost to fulfill it; a ride out into the countryside sounds like the perfect cure for the restlessness that's been simmering under her skin lately, and if anyone tries to suggest she rides out with a guard to watch over her she's fairly certain she could overrule them.

For now, though, she's happy to remain here, pressed into the bed beneath him as he presses his mouth to her skin, prowling down her body in a way she's fairly certain will produce only good things for her.

[wolfdogwitcher]

She'd be right: Eskel shimmies down the bed until her thighs frame his face. He grins at her, keeping eye contact as he bites into the little bit of softness at the inside of her thigh, sucking a bruise to the surface. Now she'll have cause to think of him when she's trying to sit and attend to her royal duties. When he's satisfied with his handiwork, he sets his lips and tongue to far gentler and more precise work between her thighs.