Reader beware, there's nothing beyond this point except some smutty goodness between a Horse Lord and his Queen.
I own nothing more than an overactive imagination. Characters are, of course, owned by Tolkien.
Happy reading :)
Lotherial sighed, wiping the sweat off her brow as she cast her gaze to the sky. The bright sun beating down upon her as she admired the glorious weather.
Spring had come to the Riddermark and she was making the most of the good weather by tending to the small garden which Eomer had gifted her early in their marriage.
In two weeks' time, they would be wed for a year, and what a year it had been. Thinking back to the woman she was before - before the war, before Eomer, and before coming to Rohan - made her feel as though she were looking into a mirror only to see a completely different person staring back at her.
If someone would have told her, not three years ago, that she would become Queen of Rohan, she would have laughed aloud and told them they were out of her mind
As a princess of Dol Amoroth, she always knew she would have to marry at some point and be removed from her family but she could never assume just how much she could come to love her new homeland.
A lovely cool breeze swept through the gardens and she closed her eyes, letting it wash over her. Gone was the saltiness of Belfalas and in its place, the sweet smell of rolling hills and fresh crisp mountain air.
"Lady Lotherial," the voice of her new maid broke her reverie as she came into view, "you best make your way back to the hall so you can freshen up before you meet with the Fabric Guild."
"Thank you, Èadhild," she closed her eyes once more, enjoying the sunshine and fresh air for one more moment before making her way onto her feet.
"Milady, let me take one of those," Èadhild grabbed one of the baskets by her feet.
"Thank you, Èadhild," she picked up the other basked, "It seems there was more to harvest in the garden than I realised."
As they made their way out of the gardens and back up the hill toward Meduseld they heard the clanging of steel as the men trained within their grounds.
Lotherial craned her neck as she heard a familiar voice, the guttural sound of his voice causing a series of inappropriate memories to wash over her and a soft heat upon her cheeks.
Peering into the grounds she saw her husband sparring with one of his men. Pausing in her tracks she watched as he fought with determined focus, circling his partner. He must have taken his shirt off at some point in his training because he wore nothing but his breeches.
A lesser woman would have looked away but she could not help but appreciate the way the sun hit the panes of his body, sweat rolling off his well-muscled chest. Without realising, she had fallen behind Èadhild and made her way toward the entryway of the training ground, peering between the shoulders of the Rohirrim who continued to jeer their peers on.
She had always loved watching Eomer train. There was something primal about it all and she could not help but notice the delicious coil of desire which was building deep within her.
Growing up with three older brothers, she had seen men sparr but never had it affected her the way that watching Eomer affected her.
The Rohirrim were naturally a good head taller than their Gondorian brethren, thanks to their Numenorian blood, and broader too. So different from the Gondorian men who were slighter of build and almost lithe in comparison.
She felt her breath hitch as he advanced forward, appreciating the strong corded muscles of his arms as they glistened with sweat. His movements were strong and precise as he pushed his sparring partner backward, causing the man to stumble to the ground and admit defeat.
She knew from the moment they met that she was attracted to him (even if she denied it) and couldn't tear her gaze from him as he threw his head back with a boisterous laugh, his braided blonde hair shining with sunlight as he helped his sparring partner up from the ground and clapped him good-naturedly on the shoulder.
As if he sensed her, he turned around and found her gaze instantly. His gaze quizzical at her presence.
"Milady, why did you stop?" She heard Èadhild come up behind her as she gave her husband a small smile, raising her eyebrows in appreciation as she backed away from his gaze and fell into step with Èadhild.
"Sorry, Èadhild," she couldn't help but smile as she saw a small blush creep onto the young maiden's cheeks. "I was just curious about the outcome but you're right, we really should be getting back."
"We'd best divide and conquer," she shook the sight of her husband from her mind as they finally made their way through the kitchens. "Can you please deliver the herbs to the apothecary and get someone to deliver the flowers to Lady Herewell? She's still bedridden and these may cheer her up."
"Yes, Milady but who will help you bathe and change," Èadhild took the second basket in hand.
"I'll manage," she assured as she made her way out of the kitchen, greeting the cook and her ladies as she left.
"Milady," Eothain caught her along the corridors by the chambers she shared with Eomer, "Have you seen Lord Eomer? Council will begin in 15 minutes and we haven't seen him since his morning ride."
"I just saw him on the training grounds," she watched as the man before her sighed with relief.
"Thank you, Milady," he bowed quickly as he turned on his heels and headed down the corridor once more.
Making her way into their chambers she quickly stripped out of her gown. She had just and taken off her chemise when the swift noise of her chamber door opening startled her. Clutching her chemise to her chest she turned around to see Eomer enter, his surprised face turning into desire as he took in her naked form, closing the door behind him quickly.
"What are you doing here?" she relaxed, throwing her chemise at him with a laugh. "Eothain is looking for you, I've just sent him to the training grounds."
"Well that buys us a few minutes at least," he caught her chemise easily and threw it aside, practically slinking towards her, his tunic damp with sweat as it clung against his strong form.
She couldn't hide the desire in her eyes. She loved that her husband was a bear of a man and she couldn't help but bite her lower lip as she noted the delicious heat coming from him.
"How is my little spy this morning?" he teased, bringing his hands to the dressing table so as to trap her against it as his eyes drank her in; the liquid gold depths of his eyes darkening.
"Spy?" she smiled appreciatively as she grasped at his tunic, helping him to pull it off as he wiped the sweat from his brow and discarded it. Despite the number of times she came under it, his gaze was almost unnerving as he turned his attention back to her, reaching for her with those large calloused hands that she loved so much.
"Was that not you who was spying on me earlier in the training yard," he pressed gently against her ear, the low baritone of his voice sending shivers down her spine.
"Who me?" she teased, her eyes wide with false innocence as he backed her against her dressing table.
"You must be mistaken," she teased her hands across his chest, her lips following her path, tasting the saltiness of his skin. "I didn't spy on you," she huffed at the notion, running her fingers down the muscled panes and eliciting a low groan of approval. "I was simply appreciating my husband."
"And did you like what you saw?" he brought his lips closer to hers, causing her breath to hitch once more.
"Most certainly," she managed as he crushed her toward him, his lips ravenous as he drank her.
Without warning he lifted her onto the dressing table, a strong hand hooking behind her knee as he pulled her back to him, her arms going out behind her instinctively to steady herself. Never leaving his lips, she hitched her legs against his hips, feeling his already hard length press against her core as she moved her hips against his, his deep groan causing her skin to prickle deliciously.
She loved him like this, passionate and possessive. She felt a hand entwine itself in her hair while the other traveled along her side, his movements almost jerky with need as he reached her breast. His thumb moving to caress her already taught nipples.
She could not help but whimper with disappointment when his lips left hers.
"So needy today, my love," she felt him smile as he bent down to move his lips across her sensitive neck before taking a nipple into his mouth, causing her to gasp with pleasure.
"Eomer," she tried to speak as his hands caressed her inner thigh and reached toward the heat at her core. "Eomer," she breathed once more as he softly caressed against her opening, causing her to shake with desire.
"You're so wet," he moaned against her ear, "so ready for me," his words causing the desire in her belly to bubble.
"Eomer," she grasped his shoulder firmly, pushing him away from her so she could reach the string of his breeches. "We only have a few minutes," she made quick work of the laces as he kicked his breeches away.
Finally naked, she couldn't help but lick her lips as she took in his powerful form.
"Insatiable," he teased as claimed her mouth once more, pressing against her so that she could feel every hard inch of him.
Aching with pleasure, she moaned as she felt the smooth and hard heat of him against her.
Sensing her desperation he pressed into her quickly, her body turning to liquid as he sheathed himself with her fully.
Desperate to feel more of him she leaned back on to elbows, lifting her hips higher and opening herself to him as he pulled her toward him. Through half-lidded eyes she watched as he threw his head back in pleasure, his hips meeting hers as he slammed into her, his breath growing ragged from pleasure.
He was all-consuming and she couldn't help but feel him everywhere. With the hardness of him within her, the heat of him above her, and his hands grabbing at her hips, it was no wonder she didn't come apart immediately.
"Eomer," she moaned as the slapping of their bodies filled the room. "More," she begged.
"More?" he teased as he pulled out of her.
She could have cried out of frustration but before she could comprehend, he had pulled her off the dresser, turned her around, and pulled her hips back toward him as he pressed her against the countertop.
He entered her as swiftly as he had left her, filling her completely. Pleasure shot through her as she stretched her arms before her. Basking in the divine friction of their lovemaking, she felt his hand caress and cup her breast roughly while the other gripped tightly on her hip.
"Is this what you wanted?" she heard him ask, his question sinking into a groan as she pushed her hips back to meet each thrust.
"Yes," her moan was followed by a cry as he brought a hand to her clit. The other clasped her shoulder as slammed into her.
"Tell me what you want," she barely heard his words as she bit back another moan.
"Tell me," he commanded, his tone low and filled with desire. He loved to talk during their lovemaking and she knew that words could easily send him over the edge.
"Fuck me, Eomer," she arched her back, turning to meet his eyes as he finally gave her what she wanted.
Pleasure wracked through her as he pinned her into the table. His cries of pleasure telling her he was close as he gripped her roughly, pounding into her with abandon
"So close," she moaned, as she basked in delicious torment, her voice practically uncontrollable as he dipped a finger back into her folds to rub against her clit until she could take it no more and she came apart.
Every time she came apart, it was as if she was drowning in rapture, her breathing halting as she rode the waves of her pleasure and contracted tightly around him. Desperate, she gasped for air, pushing back against him as he gave one final cry and spilled deep inside her.
Together they slumped over her dressing table, gasping for air as he collapsed against her.
"Milord?" A knock on their door startled them.
Eomer let out an exasperated groan as they arose, his head dipping against her shoulder as he pressed her tightly against him.
"Milord, you're needed at Council," Lortherial couldn't help but blush at the realisation that they must have been heard.
"We need to go," she whispered, leaned back into his embrace.
"I will join you in a minute, Eothain," Eomer called out toward the door as they listened for Eothain's steady footsteps to retreat.
"Just one more second," he held her tightly against him before stepping away and making his way to their adjoining washroom.
She brought her arms down once more on the dresser table, trying to catch her breath.
He came back to her with a teasing smile and she couldn't help but meet his smile as he gently pressed the cool washcloth against her inner thighs.
"We're so late," she couldn't stop the laugh on her lips as she moved to caress his bearded cheek. "You're late for council and I'm undoubtedly late for my meeting with the Fabric Guild." With a nod, he pressed a soft kiss against her inner knee before he rose.
She quickly threw on a new chemise as he moved about the room, pulling his breeches back on and grabbing a fresh tunic.
She grabbed the next clean gown available, pulling it over her head quickly as she moved to re-pin her hair, hoping to disguise her newly disheveled appearance.
"Bless the Valar," she turned toward him to see him watching her with a grin, "what did I do in my past life to deserve such a wanton and willing wife."
"You must have been a saint," she teased as she pressed her lips against his.
"Until tonight?" he grasped her hand and brought it to his lips to press a lingering kiss against her inner wrist, his eyes glowing once more with a flash of desire.
"Insatiable," she teased as she met his lips. "Until tonight," she promised, as she watched him step away and out of their room.
She turned back to the mirror on her dressing table to check herself before leaving and noted the flush upon her cheeks. She couldn't help but smile to herself as she took in her reflection.
Thank Valar she wasn't the same woman she once was, else she would have missed out on all of this.