This is set sometime near episode 1.3
It's 4.17am on a cold Thursday morning when her friend Marianne decides to ring her to tell her she's hooking up with the man of her dreams she's been telling Eleanor about for the past month.
"He's getting my coat now," she whispers into her phone in a hushed squee.
"Alright, that's good," Eleanor replies, sitting up in bed only half awake, torn between being pleased for her friend and being pissed at her for waking her up at this ungodly hour to tell her essentially nothing at all has happened yet anyway. "Keep practicing that voice and you'll have it down pat to join the One Direction fan club and squeal about how they're almost managing to grow facial hair."
Ignoring the Princess's sarcasm, Marianne replies. "So you're pleased for me, yeah?"
"Yes," Eleanor sighs. "We all know you're only a few good shags away from a white dress and a fairytale wedding now."
"Yesss," her friend replies dreamily.
Honestly Marianne's voice sounds like she's fallen in a vat of alcohol and is making no attempt whatsoever to swim her way out of it.
A movement to her right makes Eleanor turn her head to see Jasper sitting up now, propping the pillow up behind his head.
"Ok so have fun and promise to tell me all the details tomorrow then, yes?" Eleanor instructs.
"Absolutely," Marianne replies, nodding her head into the phone as the music thrums loudly around her. "Love you, bye."
"Bye," Eleanor replies into her phone, then switches it off and casually hurls it onto the sofa.
"What was that all about?," Jasper questions, talking into the dark now.
"My stupid drunk friend is about to shag Prince Charming," Eleanor replies dismissively, turning over onto her side as she prepares to try to get back to sleep.
"Ha," says Jasper, his mouth quirking into a smirk at her choice of words. This conversation is putting ideas in his head, not that they are ever far away from the surface when he shares a bed with the Princess.
A moment later his hand snakes over to her side of the bed and caresses her shoulder.
"Jasper," she whines back, stiffening at his touch. "Do you have to do this again now? I want to get to sleep." He was on her only a few hours ago.
He shifts over to her side of the bed and turns her over, then props himself up so his body is on top of hers. He will give it about two minutes for her to change her mind. His presses his lips onto hers and starts kissing her in a way that makes it hard to think of sleep anymore. His hands fall from her shoulders into her hair and he gives it a quick tug, pushing her neck backwards so that his mouth can slide down her neck, where his lips feel hot against her skin.
His hands start tracing their way down her body and he slips the strap of her silky pyjama camisole down her body and runs his hand over her breast. His mouth follows his fingers down her chest and he bites sharply on her nipple, making her writhe both from the pleasure and the pain.
"Jasper," she gasps, and he smirks into the night. Involuntarily her hands are starting to run down his back, clawing into his skin, but he shows no sign of pain.
"Take off your shorts," Jasper commands, in his bedroom voice which doesn't tolerate disobedience. Not that that stops Eleanor when she's in the mood for a fight, however.
Tonight, it's late and she's starting to lose it here, so she'll do what he says. She rolls off the tiny skimy shorts and throws them onto the floor, then sinks back down onto the bed, pulling Jasper back down onto her.
Two seconds later, he's inside her, moving in slow, measured strokes, his hands clutching her waist tightly.
He starts to quicken his pace, and her body arches and falls against his in elegant movements reminiscent of a ballerina. Sweat forms on his brow and transfers to her cheeks where he presses kisses into her skin. His breath is hot on her face and his body is heavy on her skin.
At night, the Palace is silent as the grave except for the sound of their ragged breathing as Jasper keeps thrusting into her, harder and faster.
"Oooh, oooh," Eleanor moans into his shoulder, biting her lip to stop her from screaming because she's so far gone now she's over the edge.
Jasper thrusts into her one last time, a guttural sounds spilling from his lips, and then his body stills, still inside her.
His hand tangles in her hair and now he's kissing her like he's attempting to suck the air of her lungs.
Eventually he rolls off her and pulls her into him so that her head rests on his chest.
They're not in love. They're not friends. But they're something more than Princess and bodyguard.
So they lie there together silently in the dark, because in the dark, nothing tells and nothing shows.