The rain poured down in bleak sheets, soaking the earth as it had all day. Not once had the sun peeked through dark clouds, though the storm had lessened sometime in the late afternoon. The rain had let up to a light drizzle, misty and cold, but that had not lasted for more than a few hours. The storm had regained its strength, brightening the sky with flashes of lightning and rattling the very foundations of the manor with growling thunder. Night had come over the land some hours before, but the rain obscured the hour. She knew it to be late, but still she waited. He would be here soon. Of this, she was certain.
The rain was wretched and cold, and the storm clouds seemed intent on drowning the spirits of the man who rode swiftly over the plains of Rohan. But as he rode ever closer to the small cottage on the outskirts of Rohan, his bored and depressed head perked up and his heartbeat quickened beneath the rumbles of thunder. Even his horses seemed to realize how close they were to their destination, and a vigor returned to his steps that brought a smile to Aragorn's hooded face.
Beneath him, his horse Hasufel trotted briskly, never missing an opportunity to skirt to either side in a gay dance. Water had made his gray coat nearly black, though the proud warhorse made a great show of ignoring the cold liquid. For himself, Aragorn was glad of the pace, barely able to contain his joy at the thought of getting inside from the rain. He had spent a long time doing what felt akin to repeatedly bashing his head against a stone wall, something he seemed to be doing more and more of as King of Gondor. He longed for the days he spent as a careless ranger, wandering aimlessly through the countryside. No responsibilities, no decisions that must be made. Just his sword, his horse, and the beauty of Middle Earth.
He had become so civilized in the past few years. The realization had overcome him recently and he found his mind wandering back to a time when disagreements were settled by the sword...not a round table discussion. Yes, peace had come to Middle Earth. But boredom had come along with it.
Eowyn moved to the window and lit a single candle...the secret signal to her love that she was inside and waiting for him. She glanced around the little cottage, illuminated only by flashes of lightning and the flicker of a single candle. Once it had been used to provide shelter for Eomer and the Rohirrim soldiers as they rode out to fight the forces of Sauron, but had long outlasted its's purpose upon the ending of the War of the Ring. It now stood lonely and abandoned on the outskirts of Rohan, and at first glance was certainly not a place one would consider romantic or intimate. Which was why it was the perfect place for their secret rendevous.
She smiled to herself as she thought of all the secrets that were held in these rustic walls. The secret smiles, the intimate whispers and stolen kisses of two lovers whose love that had not diminished through the passing years. Though there were many years of peace and three children between them, Eowyn still went weak at the sound of his voice and the whisper of his warm breath on her ear still sent shivers down her spine. It was here that she felt closest to him...free from the duties and responsibilities that come with everyday life.
If ever the people of Gondor found out about their secret meetings, a scandal would most definitely follow. She could hear the whispers of the Gondorians, as their gossip spread from stable boy to kitchen maid to gate keeper. The scandalous actions of their King would be a tantalizing diversion from the routine of their lives.
The creaking sound of the cottage door let her know that he had finally arrived, and the smile that came to her face at the anticipation of his touch made her feel like a giddy schoolgirl. He wrapped his strong arms around her waist and his lips found the sensitive skin behind her ears in a welcome that made her knees weak. He was wet and cold from the long journey, but all she could feel was the heat that rose in her body from his intimate touch.
"My lord, you are soaking wet. We must get you out of those clothes before you catch a chill." she teased, turning in his arms and pushing back the wet hood of his cloak. How she loved him in this cloak, mainly because it reminded her of the Ranger that she first met in the halls of Meduseld. Eowyn ran her hands through his wet hair, slicking it back off his handsome face.
"Your wish is my command." He whispered back seductively, kissing her delicate hands as she stroked his jawline. "But we must be careful, my lady, for I am a happily married man."
"And I am a happily married woman." She teased back, helping him remove the rain soaked cloak and allowing it to drop to the floor behind him. He pulled her closer into his embrace, leaving her breathless as always. "But," she was able to continue as she wound her arms around his neck, allowing her fingers to play with the wet curls at the base of his neck, "if you promise never to breathe a word of this to my loyal husband, I will swear not to tell your beautiful wife."
"I believe you have yourself a deal, my Queen." he grinned at her, before sealing their pact with a kiss as passionate as the one they shared on the day they were wed.