*Chapter Seven.* Warning slash
I will not choose a bride, I know that now. To do so would be using the love of a good woman simply for an heir. I cannot, will not do that. How I can take to my side someone I do not truly desire, love, respect? Where would be the nobility in that? I was not that shallow. Truly my love lay with one other. I was now so restless; I would go to him now. Yet my hand shook as I grasped the knob of his door.
Briefly knocking, I went in to find him writing in a journal, his face close to a candle and the golden glow bathing his eyes. I walked over to him and placed my hand on his shoulder.
He glanced up, "Are you cold, my lord?"
"No Grima." If I do not move now, I may never do. I quickly kneel and hold his face. He registers some emotion and a dreadful confusion comes over his face before I move forward and kiss him. There is one moment where he seems paralysed, then, timidly, a hand comes to rest on my shoulder. A brief glance shows that his eyes are closed and I stroke his neck as he opens his mouth to move with mine.
I break our kiss very reluctantly and shift a little closer to him so I can kneel between his legs. He has a robe on and some cotton nightshift underneath it. I grasp his hands and move them to my chest, to the ties that close my robe and tentatively he starts to undo them, his hands shake a little and I am reassured that I am not the only nervous one here.
"Perhaps it would be better in your bed, Grima," I murmur and the hands stop moving for a second, then continue to unwrap me.
"As you wish," he says and goes to rise. I hold his arms and sit him down.
"Only if it is your wish also," and he glances up at me. "Why, do you not want me? If I am wrong..."
He starts at that, surprised I think. "No, you are not wrong" he whispers and his hands run down my chest, "It was just, I did not think you..."
I kiss him again and unwrap the robe from around him. His thigh jumps when my hand reaches it and strokes the length of him firmly. His breath becomes ragged and I continue, taking pleasure in the hardness under my hand.
Grima
I had been writing in my journal when he entered my room. The journal had been a great help in sorting the confusion in my mind after the spell. My strength has started to return but there are times where I am still lost and Eomund has to remind me where I am.
Again that unreadable expression as I look up at him; he has walked over to me and his hand shakes as he rests it on my shoulder. Rohan nights are cold, especially with the strong winds that howl around Edoras.
"Are you cold, my lord?"
"No." He kneels beside where I am writing and takes my face in his hand, leans forward and kisses me. His mouth is warm and I raise my hand to his shoulder but I cannot push him away and it rests on a broad shoulder, caressing through the clothes. Oh that warmth, let me feel that a little longer. My eyes close and I melt, trying to move my mouth with his. He stops at that and I inwardly curse my inexperience with this, however he shifts nearer to me, in-between my legs. Bringing my arms to his chest, I struggle a little with the ties at his neck and he suggests moving to the bed. Last time someone was in my bed - but no, Eomer would not hurt me and I reply. But he holds me back, an anxious look on his face - he thinks I would reject him? Again my hands roam his chest as he removes my robe and I jump as his hands move on my leg and...
Pleasure floods me as that insistent, slow movement carries on with one hand as he loosens his clothing with the other, almost tearing at them such is his impatience. A deeper, longer kiss that takes my breath and then he stands, leading me to my bed. I have not known this attention before, the payments to the shadowy women in my past are long forgotten. I lie down and he struggles with his boots before kicking them to the other side of the room. He lies alongside me at first, before sliding on top of me.
Eomer
His slightly worried look tells me he has not experienced this before as I reach down to pull up his robe. A look of shame that pains me crosses his face as I lift it to reveal him and I pull it over his head and kiss him. My previous experience with Theodred was fast and frantic but this must be slower, gentler. He must feel loved.
He is warm and his heart pounds under my hand as it wanders down his chest, followed by my mouth, and he cries out as I take him in my mouth. My hands stroke his legs, caress him and grip him as his gasps become louder. I can taste him as he comes close to his pleasure and I move up him, pulling at his member to help him reach his peak. "My Lord," he gasps and cries out into my shoulder as his stomach dampens with his release. I am so hard for him that it is painful and I paw at my trousers to reach the vial of oil to ease our joining. The fact I had placed it there confirms that I knew tonight would be the night to try and make him see how I felt.
"What would you have me do," he whispers and I kiss him.
"Lie back Grima," and I tug the leggings off and spread the oil. The room sees full of shadow as our shades play on the wall opposite. Mine clumsily clambers on top of his as he looks at me
"I will not hurt you," I murmur and rest my body against his for a little while before positioning his legs at either side of me. Some oil is left and I rub my hands on him, his entrance so that our joining...
I cannot wait and rise into him, his eyes slitted against the pain. I stay still until I am sure I can move without hurting him too much, his warmth, and the feel of him on me means I may not be able to last much longer. I plant my hands next to his face and raise myself to look at him, he is rapidly blinking away tears and I kiss him again. He must know I mean no harm.
I slowly move within him and he gasps and tightens around me. My pleasure is close as I move a little quicker, all the while murmuring his name. My arms slide under him and I press him to me as I move. "My lord," he moans and I quicken, feeling the build up of pleasure within me. He clings to me as my peak is reached and I bury my face in his neck as it ebbs and flows away. We are both panting now as I withdraw from him, lie alongside him and his head rests against my arm. His eyes are dark as he stares up and his breathing steadies as I run my hands over his chest, trace his non-existent eyebrows, kiss his neck. His eyes close as I stroke his nose and this amuses me so I continue, his eyelashes flutter, they are long, I had never noticed that before. His mouth parts a little as his chest slows its steady rise.
I stay there for a little while but common sense decrees I must return to my own room. It is the early hours of the morning. With the riding as well I am exhausted. I carefully gather my clothes and give a last glance at him before leaving. There are more nights to follow this, I am sure of it. I sleep long and deeply.
Grima
I awake at daybreak and he is not there.
I dreamt it, the first pleasant dream in years.
He would not choose me, how could I believe...
There is oil on my leg and dried... fluid on my stomach. Where is my nightshift, my robe? Why are my bedclothes so disarranged? Did...did it happen? He had murmured words of love in my ear. I wanted it to be true, but then I had wanted others to love me and that had been a self-deception, an unattainable dream.
I put on my shift and robe and walked to the connecting door, which was closed. I pushed it slightly so see a sleeping Eomer sprawled on the bed, only partly covered by a sheet. I pull more covers over him and he stirs, sleepily glancing at me before smiling. No grimace, no smirk, just a smile. He pulled me to him, placed his hand on the back of my neck and kissed me.
"A brief moment, Grima, then we must dress, the maids will be here soon. We can return to love tonight," How my heart warms at that. I find it hard to stand as he kisses my neck and my hand reached out to steady myself, only to find his length under my palm.
"Bolt the doors Grima," he states and rolls back lazily, waiting for me.
I must have seemed so clumsy to him, clambering up on top of him as he steadied me, placing his hands on my hips.
"A moment," he says and moves to reaches for the small vial of oil, coating me with it and I moan as I slide into him. He bucks his hips to meet me, whilst he holds my hips; I may be on top but he controls the ride. Enclosed in warmth; I move within him, his hands guiding my aim, my tempo. Pleasure shudders through me as I reach my pleasure and I practically collapse on him as my energy is spent.
A timid knock on the door and I freeze as Eomer throws an teasing look my way -damn him, he did that in lessons - as a small voice belong to the young girl who looks after our rooms calls for the King.
Another gruffer voice answers her and tells her to return.
"The King has ridden a lot lately, he will be tired."
The King is now sat up with his shoulders shaking with mirth as I strain to hear them leave. His member knocks against my leg and this makes him laugh all the harder.
"He is more accurate than he knows," and with that he is helpless with laughter, stuffing his pillow over the lower face so only his eyes laugh back at me. It is infectious and I feel myself chuckle. It would have been disastrous to have them see us as we were but now that the crisis has passed I am relieved and let out a laugh. We are now telling each other to 'hush' and trying not to laugh at the same time. Eventually I remove to my chamber to dress and try to calm down as I hear him chuckle in the next room.
We walk down the stairs at different times, trying to keep our faces smooth and composed. We eat in silence, the King occasionally making a comment to Eomund. Lilith, the young maid who looks after my room approaches and asks about her lesson.
"Of course," I state, "After breakfast, I think."
"I thought you may have been working with the King."
"No, I believe the King will be going riding today," I say as innocently as I can and I hear the spluttering of Eomer from the other end of the table. Lilith gives him a strange look as he tries to swallow and giggle at the same time whilst fiery looks are returned to my calm one. I have had practice in hiding my emotions, admittedly in much worse situations, and he will have to be very crafty to get me to slip.
Still it is a great puzzle to me why he desires me, I who have thirty years on him and nowhere near the same physical attractions. We spend very little time together during the day, I cannot always follow him on horseback riding for long periods of time. I write in my journal, supervise the new building and gardens, eat three substantial meals a day - my hunger has reappeared with my happiness it seems.
But the nights are different. At dusk, after our meal, we walk the tracks of Edoras, sometimes onto the plains outside the town gates. It is the long summer evenings that draw us out, more for the pleasure of not being buffeted by the wind than anything else. There is no physical caresses, no tactile business - that comes later - but I feel closer to him and happier than I have ever known.
I usually retire first, writing my thoughts. Sometimes I am asleep when he comes to my room but more often not and now, in this quiet time, we can embrace. I am surer of what he likes and dislikes me to do. My hands, my mouth produce such pleasure for him that it baffles me; I know I am no prize, no pleasing physical specimen. Yet his breath warms my body when he peaks within me, his arms pull me closer and he does not avert his eyes from my nakedness. Our moans are muted, but no less meant, I am sure and sometimes it takes a mere look from him to reduce me to melting, yet hardening at the same time, and sitting down quickly lest my arousal be seen by all.
I will not choose a bride, I know that now. To do so would be using the love of a good woman simply for an heir. I cannot, will not do that. How I can take to my side someone I do not truly desire, love, respect? Where would be the nobility in that? I was not that shallow. Truly my love lay with one other. I was now so restless; I would go to him now. Yet my hand shook as I grasped the knob of his door.
Briefly knocking, I went in to find him writing in a journal, his face close to a candle and the golden glow bathing his eyes. I walked over to him and placed my hand on his shoulder.
He glanced up, "Are you cold, my lord?"
"No Grima." If I do not move now, I may never do. I quickly kneel and hold his face. He registers some emotion and a dreadful confusion comes over his face before I move forward and kiss him. There is one moment where he seems paralysed, then, timidly, a hand comes to rest on my shoulder. A brief glance shows that his eyes are closed and I stroke his neck as he opens his mouth to move with mine.
I break our kiss very reluctantly and shift a little closer to him so I can kneel between his legs. He has a robe on and some cotton nightshift underneath it. I grasp his hands and move them to my chest, to the ties that close my robe and tentatively he starts to undo them, his hands shake a little and I am reassured that I am not the only nervous one here.
"Perhaps it would be better in your bed, Grima," I murmur and the hands stop moving for a second, then continue to unwrap me.
"As you wish," he says and goes to rise. I hold his arms and sit him down.
"Only if it is your wish also," and he glances up at me. "Why, do you not want me? If I am wrong..."
He starts at that, surprised I think. "No, you are not wrong" he whispers and his hands run down my chest, "It was just, I did not think you..."
I kiss him again and unwrap the robe from around him. His thigh jumps when my hand reaches it and strokes the length of him firmly. His breath becomes ragged and I continue, taking pleasure in the hardness under my hand.
Grima
I had been writing in my journal when he entered my room. The journal had been a great help in sorting the confusion in my mind after the spell. My strength has started to return but there are times where I am still lost and Eomund has to remind me where I am.
Again that unreadable expression as I look up at him; he has walked over to me and his hand shakes as he rests it on my shoulder. Rohan nights are cold, especially with the strong winds that howl around Edoras.
"Are you cold, my lord?"
"No." He kneels beside where I am writing and takes my face in his hand, leans forward and kisses me. His mouth is warm and I raise my hand to his shoulder but I cannot push him away and it rests on a broad shoulder, caressing through the clothes. Oh that warmth, let me feel that a little longer. My eyes close and I melt, trying to move my mouth with his. He stops at that and I inwardly curse my inexperience with this, however he shifts nearer to me, in-between my legs. Bringing my arms to his chest, I struggle a little with the ties at his neck and he suggests moving to the bed. Last time someone was in my bed - but no, Eomer would not hurt me and I reply. But he holds me back, an anxious look on his face - he thinks I would reject him? Again my hands roam his chest as he removes my robe and I jump as his hands move on my leg and...
Pleasure floods me as that insistent, slow movement carries on with one hand as he loosens his clothing with the other, almost tearing at them such is his impatience. A deeper, longer kiss that takes my breath and then he stands, leading me to my bed. I have not known this attention before, the payments to the shadowy women in my past are long forgotten. I lie down and he struggles with his boots before kicking them to the other side of the room. He lies alongside me at first, before sliding on top of me.
Eomer
His slightly worried look tells me he has not experienced this before as I reach down to pull up his robe. A look of shame that pains me crosses his face as I lift it to reveal him and I pull it over his head and kiss him. My previous experience with Theodred was fast and frantic but this must be slower, gentler. He must feel loved.
He is warm and his heart pounds under my hand as it wanders down his chest, followed by my mouth, and he cries out as I take him in my mouth. My hands stroke his legs, caress him and grip him as his gasps become louder. I can taste him as he comes close to his pleasure and I move up him, pulling at his member to help him reach his peak. "My Lord," he gasps and cries out into my shoulder as his stomach dampens with his release. I am so hard for him that it is painful and I paw at my trousers to reach the vial of oil to ease our joining. The fact I had placed it there confirms that I knew tonight would be the night to try and make him see how I felt.
"What would you have me do," he whispers and I kiss him.
"Lie back Grima," and I tug the leggings off and spread the oil. The room sees full of shadow as our shades play on the wall opposite. Mine clumsily clambers on top of his as he looks at me
"I will not hurt you," I murmur and rest my body against his for a little while before positioning his legs at either side of me. Some oil is left and I rub my hands on him, his entrance so that our joining...
I cannot wait and rise into him, his eyes slitted against the pain. I stay still until I am sure I can move without hurting him too much, his warmth, and the feel of him on me means I may not be able to last much longer. I plant my hands next to his face and raise myself to look at him, he is rapidly blinking away tears and I kiss him again. He must know I mean no harm.
I slowly move within him and he gasps and tightens around me. My pleasure is close as I move a little quicker, all the while murmuring his name. My arms slide under him and I press him to me as I move. "My lord," he moans and I quicken, feeling the build up of pleasure within me. He clings to me as my peak is reached and I bury my face in his neck as it ebbs and flows away. We are both panting now as I withdraw from him, lie alongside him and his head rests against my arm. His eyes are dark as he stares up and his breathing steadies as I run my hands over his chest, trace his non-existent eyebrows, kiss his neck. His eyes close as I stroke his nose and this amuses me so I continue, his eyelashes flutter, they are long, I had never noticed that before. His mouth parts a little as his chest slows its steady rise.
I stay there for a little while but common sense decrees I must return to my own room. It is the early hours of the morning. With the riding as well I am exhausted. I carefully gather my clothes and give a last glance at him before leaving. There are more nights to follow this, I am sure of it. I sleep long and deeply.
Grima
I awake at daybreak and he is not there.
I dreamt it, the first pleasant dream in years.
He would not choose me, how could I believe...
There is oil on my leg and dried... fluid on my stomach. Where is my nightshift, my robe? Why are my bedclothes so disarranged? Did...did it happen? He had murmured words of love in my ear. I wanted it to be true, but then I had wanted others to love me and that had been a self-deception, an unattainable dream.
I put on my shift and robe and walked to the connecting door, which was closed. I pushed it slightly so see a sleeping Eomer sprawled on the bed, only partly covered by a sheet. I pull more covers over him and he stirs, sleepily glancing at me before smiling. No grimace, no smirk, just a smile. He pulled me to him, placed his hand on the back of my neck and kissed me.
"A brief moment, Grima, then we must dress, the maids will be here soon. We can return to love tonight," How my heart warms at that. I find it hard to stand as he kisses my neck and my hand reached out to steady myself, only to find his length under my palm.
"Bolt the doors Grima," he states and rolls back lazily, waiting for me.
I must have seemed so clumsy to him, clambering up on top of him as he steadied me, placing his hands on my hips.
"A moment," he says and moves to reaches for the small vial of oil, coating me with it and I moan as I slide into him. He bucks his hips to meet me, whilst he holds my hips; I may be on top but he controls the ride. Enclosed in warmth; I move within him, his hands guiding my aim, my tempo. Pleasure shudders through me as I reach my pleasure and I practically collapse on him as my energy is spent.
A timid knock on the door and I freeze as Eomer throws an teasing look my way -damn him, he did that in lessons - as a small voice belong to the young girl who looks after our rooms calls for the King.
Another gruffer voice answers her and tells her to return.
"The King has ridden a lot lately, he will be tired."
The King is now sat up with his shoulders shaking with mirth as I strain to hear them leave. His member knocks against my leg and this makes him laugh all the harder.
"He is more accurate than he knows," and with that he is helpless with laughter, stuffing his pillow over the lower face so only his eyes laugh back at me. It is infectious and I feel myself chuckle. It would have been disastrous to have them see us as we were but now that the crisis has passed I am relieved and let out a laugh. We are now telling each other to 'hush' and trying not to laugh at the same time. Eventually I remove to my chamber to dress and try to calm down as I hear him chuckle in the next room.
We walk down the stairs at different times, trying to keep our faces smooth and composed. We eat in silence, the King occasionally making a comment to Eomund. Lilith, the young maid who looks after my room approaches and asks about her lesson.
"Of course," I state, "After breakfast, I think."
"I thought you may have been working with the King."
"No, I believe the King will be going riding today," I say as innocently as I can and I hear the spluttering of Eomer from the other end of the table. Lilith gives him a strange look as he tries to swallow and giggle at the same time whilst fiery looks are returned to my calm one. I have had practice in hiding my emotions, admittedly in much worse situations, and he will have to be very crafty to get me to slip.
Still it is a great puzzle to me why he desires me, I who have thirty years on him and nowhere near the same physical attractions. We spend very little time together during the day, I cannot always follow him on horseback riding for long periods of time. I write in my journal, supervise the new building and gardens, eat three substantial meals a day - my hunger has reappeared with my happiness it seems.
But the nights are different. At dusk, after our meal, we walk the tracks of Edoras, sometimes onto the plains outside the town gates. It is the long summer evenings that draw us out, more for the pleasure of not being buffeted by the wind than anything else. There is no physical caresses, no tactile business - that comes later - but I feel closer to him and happier than I have ever known.
I usually retire first, writing my thoughts. Sometimes I am asleep when he comes to my room but more often not and now, in this quiet time, we can embrace. I am surer of what he likes and dislikes me to do. My hands, my mouth produce such pleasure for him that it baffles me; I know I am no prize, no pleasing physical specimen. Yet his breath warms my body when he peaks within me, his arms pull me closer and he does not avert his eyes from my nakedness. Our moans are muted, but no less meant, I am sure and sometimes it takes a mere look from him to reduce me to melting, yet hardening at the same time, and sitting down quickly lest my arousal be seen by all.
