FIRST NIGHT
Based on stealth and good luck mainly, Éomer had succeeded in manoeuvring Lothíriel and himself out of the great hall without too many people noticing. He knew his friends and his men and he wanted to avoid the myriad of catcalls, cheers and probably well-meant good wishes, which inevitably would have accompanied them on their way to their conjugal bed.
Of course, his ever-observant sister had noticed their escape, and Aragorn and his queen had exchanged a smile when they also saw the young couple slipping out a side door.
'They have waited long enough' Aragorn whispered into his wife's ear. 'The celebration does not require their presence anymore; not as long as the hobbits and the dwarf entertain the company.' He turned towards his friends and allies with a grin and said 'A toast to the lord and lady of the Mark; may their union be blessed!' They all joined in a silent toast to the young couple.
In the sanctity of their chambers, Éomer removed his crown, setting it onto the table. He still not felt comfortable wearing it. He turned towards Lothíriel, who was standing in the middle of the room, resting her hand on the back of a chair in front of the fireplace.
Only a few candles lit up the sitting room of their apartments; Éomer caught his breath, thinking that he had never seen her looking lovelier than in the light of the candles this night. For the wedding and the crowning she had worn a dark green dress with golden treads woven into the fabric, the cut of the dress left her shoulders bare, and on her dark, intricately braided hair the golden circlet of the queen of the Mark shone.
Lothíriel's green eyes glittered towards him in the candlelight. 'I cannot believe that we are finally here; it seems like a hundred years since we first talked about our wedding and our wedding night,' she smiled. 'And I suddenly realize that this is it,' she added with a slight tremble in her voice.
Éomer went to her, sliding an arm around her waist, cupping her cheek with the other hand 'Are you nervous, my love?' he said, raising a brow quizzically.
'Yes, no - yes, I think that I am actually. Are you not? It is a special night for both us, entering into unknown territory, for what if we do not match? I have heard some stories. Even though we have been, shall we say, close several times – also closer than my brothers and my father would actually like to know about – you cannot know such things, and sometimes it is too late. And all I really know about the act of love is something others have told me.'
Éomer grinned; Lothíriel was the most outspoken woman, he had ever known – even more so than his sister. She could keep strict manners, face and façade in public, being born and raised a princess, but in private she would often say things, which would be more suited for the mess hall or a tavern – and she was immensely honest. This amused and pleased him greatly and he was not surprised that she would bring up something like this, even on her wedding night. On the contrary, it was quite typical of her, also to word her worries and her doubts.
'And what have they told you, my love?' he asked, all the while letting his hands glide down her back, coming to rest on her hips. 'Why do you think that you need worry so much?'
Lothíriel put her arms around his neck, her fingers playing with his hair, undoing the braids, which had held his hair back from his face.
'That depends. Since our betrothal I learnt some things from talking to Biriel, but she was my nurse and has been with me for so long – and have known nothing but arranged marriages, and she seems to think that I should always be demure and let my husband come to me – and be grateful at that!'
'Listening to her, one is lead to believe that lovemaking is about as fun as doing household chores and is only meant for begetting an heir to the throne! 'One should not think so much of pleasure as of duty' she says. And when I asked whether it was not important that the husband and wife should be compatible in that respect, she just looked very sternly at me and said that that was of no consequence. We were royalty and whether or not we were compatible; our main duty was to beget an heir. I am glad I left her at Dol Amroth with Elphir and his family and took Mira with me in stead; she would not have survived the court at Edoras.'
Éomer laughed merrily 'I think that you are right; she would never have lived through our lack of propriety. But you said it depended … on whom you talked to, was it?'
Lothíriel nodded 'Talking to Éowyn and Arwen the other night gave me quite a different impression.'
'Oh, yes – I do remember a lot of giggling and the disappearance of a couple of bottles of the royal household's best Gondorian wine,' Éomer laughed 'so that was the subject of your conversation; I might have guessed.'
'Although I am sure that they have kept some things to themselves, they also gave me a lot of good advice. And – our courting, your kisses and demeanour have let me to believe that there is more to it than just duty when two people in love are married. I guess I should not be nervous – not when I am with you. But I cannot help it; I am confused and a bit scared at taking this step – in spite of the fact that I love you.' Lothíriel sounded quite upset.
Éomer laughed heartily of the fact that this brave, honest and straightforward woman could harbour such fears; she frowned at his reaction and her expression clouded.
At once, Éomer regretted his mirth. 'Lothy, my love. I am sorry, I should not laugh at you', he apologized.
Lothíriel freed herself from his embrace. 'Exactly, my lord and king; you should not. I know that you have ample experience – don't try that' she continued angrily, as Éomer tried to protest - 'I know that you have never wanted for female attention or company, Éowyn told me so. And I do not mind, that is all in your past, but you should not laugh because I am inexperienced and seek knowledge. You married a virgin, my lord, you knew that.'
She paused and then said in a very insecure voice 'Apart from the nervousness at unknown territories and whether or not we are a perfect match, I am so afraid that I may disappoint you this night because of my inexperience, that is the worst.' Her anger seemed to have evaporated as she looked at him with glittering, insecure eyes.
Éomer looked at his beautiful queen and said softly 'No, my love. It was unfair of me to laugh at you; true, how can you know about these things. But - I am quite sure – from our courting and what went on during that time - that you are all the woman that I will ever need or want.'
'From the moment I first laid eyes on you at Minas Tirith, I knew that you were a special woman and that you held a special fire within you, which only waited to be evoked. The moment I first kissed you I felt that you were mine, and only mine, and that your fire was only meant for me'.
He caressed her cheek 'I do not want to talk anymore; I would much rather show you that fire in you and teach you to ignite mine,' he said, his voice deep and husky, and his dark eyes that was filled with passion burned into hers.
He reached over to remove the golden circlet, with which he had crowned her his queen, and placed it on the table alongside his crown. Then he removed his outer, gold embroidered tunic, tossing it over a chair and pulled her into his embrace.
'My sweet love; you are the most beautiful queen ever to be crowned in the Golden Hall and I am so proud of you' he assured her and continued with a low rumble: 'and I could barely keep away from you during all that ceremonial; all I could think of was getting you in here.' He lifted her face up towards him and kissed her, letting his tongue glide over her lower lip, seeking entrance.
She parted her lips slightly to let his tongue enter, whimpering softly as she did. They stood so for a while, their tongues intertwining and exploring each other's mouths, leaving them breathless as they parted.
'I want you out of this dress', he mumbled. Éomer let his hands glide down her body, finding the fastenings of her dress. He undid them and let his hands slide between the fabric of her outer dress and her slip. His warm hands burned through the thin fabric of the slip.
Then he loosened her elaborate braids and let his fingers glide through her dark hair to allow it to float down her back. He moved his hands to her breasts, cupping them with his hands and let his thumbs move over the nipples, feeling them hardening.
Lothíriel moaned and let her hands slide up his arms to rest on his shoulders and then down to his chest, where she undid the laces all the way in the front of his shirt to let her hands slip inside and around his waist, feeling his skin.
Éomer growled with pleasure and continued his caresses. He removed her dress from her shoulders and let his mouth follow in its path, letting small kisses rain down her neck and shoulders. Then he removed the dress entirely, letting it glide to the floor. He then removed his shirt. Lothíriel gasped as she saw him in the candlelight; the taut muscles of his upper body; the golden hairs on his chest gleaming, his long blonde hair flowing over his shoulders.
She had seen men without a shirt before, having three brothers and a father. But this was different; this was her husband, her lover. She let her hand glide over his chest, feeling the texture of the hair and the skin. Brushing slightly over his nipples, she heard his sudden intake of breath and realized that they must be as sensitive as hers.
Éomer crushed her to him, feeling her breasts pressing against his chest and Lothíriel felt his arousal pressing against her. She giggled, somewhat appreciatively; Éomer smiled. 'It cannot be a surprise to you that you got this effect on me,' he growled.
No, indeed it was not. She had felt his body's response to her several times during their courtship; sitting in front of him in the saddle, stealing moments of hot kisses and caresses in the stable, kissing on the beach of Dol Amroth, where they had fled for privacy and snuggling close to him when they happened to be alone. It had amused her, but never frightened her.
Éomer pulled at her shift and helped her getting it off. He looked at her as she stood naked before him in the candlelight and caught his breath; her slender body with the feminine curves, ample breasts and hips had a golden glow from the candles and the fire. 'Béma, you are beautiful, woman', he said huskily and bent down to take one of her breasts in his mouth as he caressed the other with his hand.
She moaned softly, heat filling her all the way down to her toes. Éomer let kisses rain down her body as he came down to kneel in front of her; he pressed his face against her stomach and lower still. From his kneeling position, he looked up at her. 'I love you,' he groaned 'and I want you.'
Then he rose to take full possession of her mouth, kissing her almost into oblivion. As they parted and got their breath back, she let her hands glide down his body and mumbled 'And why am I the only one to be naked, my lord?'
She pulled at the strings of his breeches, letting her hand glide tentatively over the impressive bulge. Éomer let out a low rumble. 'Watch it, my lady. You may be playing with fire.' He smiled wryly. She looked at him through demurely lowered lashes, a mischievous look very present in her green eyes.
Éomer laughed and helped her get the strings untied and then looked at her, a devilish smile on his lips. 'Now you do the rest,' he said. Lothíriel looked up at him – 'that smile she thought; I will never be able to resist it'.
She pulled down his trousers, first over his muscular thighs and then further down. Kneeling in front of him, helping him to remove them entirely, she suddenly became aware of his full manhood, now released. She had seen male parts before – again the result of having three brothers and also from her work at the Houses of Healing – but never fully aroused as this. She caught her breath and let out a whimper.
Éomer pulled her up to stand 'What is it?' Lothíriel looked up at him and stuttered 'I have seen and felt your impressive, hmm, reaction to me, but I never realized … that you would be this endowed,' she whispered.
Éomer looked apprehensively and slightly amused at her 'and you are afraid that I will hurt you. Believe me, love. It will be all right. I promise you.'
Lifting her up, he carried her towards their bed chamber, only stopping for a while to claim her mouth in a searing kiss, which he did not break until he lowered her onto the bed. 'Believe me, my love; this will be no problem,' he purred softly.
Lothíriel looked up at her husband; his eyes were dark with passion but she also saw so much love and care in them that she knew that she was a fool to be afraid. As if he read her mind, he proceeded to kiss her neck, whispering 'it is all right to fear the unknown, but I will be careful with you, trust me, my love.' Then he moved his lips to her mouth, again capturing it in a searing kiss where their tongues moved against each other in a slow and sensuous dance.
Éomer lifted his head and continued the kissing down her throat, her breasts, her stomach, stopping at the mound. She shivered, feeling the heat of his hands and his breath, and an unknown, but pleasant feeling spread in her body, compelling her to part her legs. Éomer chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest.
He parted her legs a little more and then let his fingers find her most sensitive spot; he let his fingers play with it feeling her squirm, low moans forming in her throat and then put his mouth where his fingers had been. She stiffened involuntarily, if anything she had not expected this; Éomer looked up at her.
'Relax, my love. Trust me, you will enjoy this.' Lothíriel lay back, her thoughts not coherent, but one came to her: 'So that is what they meant when they told that you could be kissed in more places than one; that it could be most pleasurable and that it was perfectly natural for married couples to engage in such activities.'
It sent a thrill down her spine to think of this. Then she felt Éomer's tongue on her; she shivered although she felt warm all over and a small moan escaped her lips; this was an extraordinary feeling.
As he concentrated on her most sensitive part, he moved one hand further down and let a finger slip into her moist opening; he did not doubt that she would be more than ready for him and he felt a stirring in his loins, feeling a sudden need to be inside of her.
'Rein it in, man' he thought 'give her pleasure first.' He continued licking and sucking as he moved his fingers within her. Lothíriel could not believe the sensations she felt rolling over her; it was wonderful and indescribable – almost unbearable.
Suddenly she felt the unknown feeling raising to a crescendo within her, she felt she could take no more and felt the waves of pleasure roll over her; she screamed out his name. 'Éomer, love – no, please no, please …. Oh, my love', shuddering wildly and trying to stop what he was doing to her, her small hands tugging at his shoulders.
Éomer laughed softly as he pulled himself up against her body and kissed her. She could taste what she realized was the taste of her on his lips. Not displeasing at all. She felt like she had been running wildly and struggled to get her breath even; at the same time feeling the most relaxed she had ever felt. 'I did not know – that it would be like this' she gasped.
'Oh, but it can be much better' he smiled; all the while letting his hands roam over her body. Then he looked at her, 'it's your turn now' he said with a slow smile. 'But I do not know ---' 'oh, yes you do; you have teased me enough during the past months to at least know a little bit about what to do – and what I like, and as for the rest I will guide you!'
Lothíriel giggled mischievously remembering certain incidents, when movements and ministrations, deliberate or not on her part, almost had undone him and had threatened to violate Éomer's promises to her father about not going too far during their betrothal period. Oh, yes; she did know something of what her husband might like.
She shifted and moved to straddle him. She then leaned over to let little kisses rain down his face, her dark hair covering them; she paused to nibble on his ear lobe and went on, tentatively sucking and biting his neck.
He growled a bit in pleasure as he felt her against his erect manhood and stilled her movements by a hand on her thigh; not sure that he would be able to hold back if she continued. Then she proceeded down his chest, resting to suck his nipples one by one – causing her husband to react by gripping her thigh, moaning low.
Her fingers and her mouth continued down his flat and muscular stomach, finally reaching his hard manhood. Hesitantly, she let her fingers glide down his length, feeling the very soft texture of his skin. 'You won't hurt me' he whispered huskily, guiding her hands to caress him. She did so a while, rejoicing in the reaction she got from him. He threw his head back and groaned, stopping her ministrations.
'You are a natural, my dear wife", he growled softly and kissed her. She giggled huskily and moved against him.
'Ah, but some things they did tell me, your sister and the queen of Gondor – although not in so many details; I gathered that this was what they meant.'
'Another time I might just let you continue; there are other things I might enjoy', Éomer grinned his roguish grin and shifted her so he got her on her back 'and now, my queen, I think it is time'.
He moved his hand down to feel her moist opening 'oh, yes, you are more than ready for me, my love.' He settled between her legs and she spread them willingly to him.
He moved to enter her, taking his time. 'Relax; it will hurt a bit, but I will do my best to be careful' he whispered.
'I trust you, my love' she said, biting her lip as she felt him easing his way into her. She looked into his face and saw him concentrating so much that sweat burst out on his forehead; then he trust into her; she felt a quick, tearing pain as her maiden barrier was broken, but she soon forgot it in the feelings, which seared over her as she felt him moving and thrusting inside of her.
'Did it hurt much, love' he breathed against her ear and moved to take possession of her mouth, kissing her deeply and sensuously. She breathed 'no' into his ear. 'I think that we do fit very well together' he breathed back.
After the first feeling of malaise, Lothíriel felt new sensations as she started to move against him, giving him complete access and she could not help letting out a loud moan. Éomer laughed softly at this, and adjusting his rhythm to fit her movements, he thrust deeper into her.
Through his ministrations, she suddenly reached a new peak, cried out his name loudly and shuddered against him. Éomer thrust into her a few more times, feeling her moist and soft inside enfold him and then felt his release coming on. He shivered, feeling that his arms could no longer hold him up; he bent back his head to groan out his pleasure loudly and then collapsed on her, moaning endearments into her neck.
For a while, they just lay, legs and arms entwined, his flesh still a part of her. Then he rolled over on his back so as not to crush her, taking her with him in his arms. After a while, their strained breathing stopped and Éomer moved down to look his wife into the eyes.
'What now, my queen. Are you any wiser on the subject on lovemaking? Did it measure up to your expectations – and do you now trust that we are meant for each other?' he inquired softly, as he caressed her face.
Lothíriel smiled into his dark eyes, where the passion they had just shared still was very much present.
'Yes, my love. Now I know, and your sister did not lie. When you have the right man' – and then she blushed – 'and he is not afraid to see to your needs, then it is the most wonderful thing in the world. I will forever pity the women, who do not experience this and think that the act of love is most tiresome and tedious.'
Éomer grinned; he had had the feeling all along that their first time would light a fire in his wife's body just as he had seen the inkling of a flame burn in her right from the beginning of their courtship and their first kiss. He had been just as sure all the while that he would want nothing else as long as he could hold this woman in his arms; she would keep his fire burning for ever and he told her as much, as he held her close.
She looked at him 'So I did please you, my lord?' she asked, keeping her eyes demurely lowered, but acting quite the opposite as she let her nails and gaze rake down his body.
'Oh, yes, you pleased me very much, my lady. And I am sure that everybody will have heard that you did. Nobody will be in doubt that the king and queen of Rohan have had a very good time, indeed, on their wedding night. You were not exactly quiet, my love – and neither was I.'
She blushed profoundly 'Do you think that they all heard?' she said in an alarmed voice.
Éomer sent his wife a devilish grin 'I cannot tell. Not in the hall, perhaps - no, I do not think so – however, if somebody happened to pass in the hallway, I am not so sure …..'
Catching the look in her eyes, he grinned roguishly. 'I am only teasing you, my love; I like the fact that I can get you to scream like that. And if they heard, so what? I could not care less; I love you and I do not care who knows. As you know – propriety is not high on our list in Rohan. Do not worry, my love.'
He proceeded to kiss her. 'Let me get you some wine, my love, and then I think that we should go and wash; after all as you said, I did marry a virgin and it shows.'
Lothíriel looked at him and down at herself and blushed. Blood was smeared all over her lower body and his. She looked a bit embarrassed.
Éomer reassured her: 'There is nothing to be embarrassed about, my love' he smiled. 'Go and get washed and I will see to the wine and remake our – by now very crumbled - bed.'
She did as he suggested, but in the door she turned 'you seem so at ease with this, my lord, have you lain with many virgins' she inquired teasingly, her eyes shining devilishly.
'Dozens' he shot back, but then went over and caressed her cheek 'no, you are my first; I have not made a habit of bedding virgins.' He kissed her vigorously, groaning 'not that there ever was anything virginal over your kisses'. She smiled wickedly at him as she disappeared into the side room, giggling merrily.
Éomer removed the extra, loose sheet, which had been put on the conjugal bed and put it in a basket outside the door, replacing it with a fresh, which he took from the same basket. He had not told Lothíriel that an old, Rohirric custom demanded that this was done so to bear witness that the woman had indeed been a virgin. An even older custom required witnesses, waiting outside the room to witness the joining, but Éomer had set a stop to this; he would not upset Lothíriel and he was quite certain that she would not approve.
Gathering from the way she had reacted when she worried that somebody might have heard them, he found this to be a good idea. He went into the side room to wash.
Lothíriel had already washed and she pressed against his back as he dried himself off. 'T'is a strange feeling, an hour ago I knew nothing really – and now; it is a new world', she exclaimed laughingly.
Éomer smiled as he turned around and picked her up in his arms. 'Yes, it is, is it not? Get into bed, woman, you'll get cold standing here – and I do like you warm. Do not for a moment think that I am through with you for tonight!' And then he proceeded to the bed and put her down and then turned to pour two goblets of wine from a decanter on the side table.
He handed his wife one and jumped into bed with his own. They settled close against each other, leaning against the headboard and he sat quietly with an arm around her, running his fingers through her hair. He felt relaxed and happy that they were now joined – in all respects. She seemed very much at peace as well.
Suddenly, however, she sat up and looked at him 'Éomer, don't be cross with me; I have to ask you this. How was it for you the first time? Do you think that it is very different for a man than for a woman?'
He looked at her, a bit surprised at her question, but then nodded slowly. 'I do not know; I believe that it must be different. At least it is not painful for us. As for my first time; well, I'd say that it was more confusing than anything else.'
' I was only a lad of sixteen when Théodred decided that I should be introduced to – well, manhood. On my very birthday, he took me to a certain establishment in Edoras – yes, a house of ill repute - and introduced me to one of the more experienced women. Of course, he got me so drunk first that my mind was reeling. I do remember, however, that I was terrified and that it was almost over before it began.'
He laughed, 'Not much stamina, you see, but she was kind and, well, gave me another try, which turned out a bit more successful. Moreover, she introduced me to another girl, who was only a bit older than me – but much more experienced - and she was the one to teach me to be patient and considerate of a woman's needs. Both of them left Edoras a long time ago; the younger got married to a merchant, I believe.'
'I suppose that I have her – and perhaps others - to thank for this' she mused.
He looked at her, taking their goblets and turned to set them down on the bed table. He then took her hands and looked her straight into the eyes: 'Lothíriel, believe that although I have had my share of tumbles, I will not call it lovemaking; it was rather release. I have never loved until I met you. I know that for sure; what I felt just now with you, I have never felt before. I have never felt so complete as I do when I am with you. So, in a way this was my first time, too.'
Lothíriel nodded; her eyes filled with tears at his words 'I know. I know you – and I love you. I am honoured and glad that I am the one to make you feel this way.'
She put her hands on his shoulders, guiding him down so that he lay on top of her; 'and now I think that you should use your skills and show me again, how much you love me. I will not promise that I can be more quiet this time, on the contrary. I have a feeling that everybody will now know for sure that the queen is quite pleased with the king.'
As she said this, a flush spread over her face and Éomer grinned wolfishly as he bent down to crush his lips against hers. He moved his bearded chin against her cheek 'Uh, your beard is tickling me' she giggled. She squirmed helplessly against him, as he continued his ministrations, but did not put up too much of a fight, in stead she moulded against his body so fiercely that Éomer almost lost it.
When he entered her again, it was as marvellous and wondrous as he had imagined that it would be. She opened to him, as moist and as willingly as he could wish for. He managed to bring about a release for her, which also helped his own along, as he felt her muscles tightening around him in her spasms. Lothíriel had kept her promise and she had cried out his name more than once in the throes of the sweet release he brought her, much to the wicked amusement of her husband.
Next morning, Lothíriel woke with a strange sensation; she was lying with her back against a warm body nestled very close to her and she felt the even breathing of her sleeping husband. She smiled as she remembered what had happened.
Pulling the sheets up to cover them both, Éomer had fallen asleep with his arms around his wife, and she had snuggled against him as she followed him into sleep. She turned over in bed looking at him. His blonde hair was tousled and his face relaxed, his lips curling in a smile as if he was dreaming something pleasant.
'He is indeed a handsome man' she thought 'not beautiful as Aragorn or as Legolas, but it is a fine face radiating both power and kindness. I am lucky that he loves me and I love him.'
As if he felt her eyes, he stirred, slowly waking. 'Lothy ---- good morning, my love' Éomer reached out for her, pulling her into his arms.
'Did you sleep well, my lord?' she inquired softly.
'Yes …very well, considering how little sleep you allowed me' he said, his voice still slurry from sleep and emotion, 'and you?'
'Likewise, my lord and master – as little as it was' she grinned. He held her close, kissing her lips softly and languidly, nuzzling her neck.
'I can already tell that you are going to wear me out at some point. I must have been mad marrying you. I must find a war to fight to allow me some rest,' he growled, burying his face between her breasts, his coarse beard tickling her.
Lothíriel giggled happily 'Do not complain, Éomer, you choose me yourself and you are to blame if the fire in me is evoked.'
Having said that, she blushed a bit: "And I could certainly do with a bath' she continued.
'So could I; I smell like a whore…' he stopped himself.
'What were you saying' Lothíriel erupted with laughter 'were you about to say a whorehouse?'
'Yes, for a moment I forgot that I was not talking to Éothain,' he grinned a bit sheepishly.
Lothíriel laughed. 'You forget that I have two unmarried brothers – neither Amrothos nor Echirion are innocents, you know. The only one, father has ever succeeded in keeping on a leash – and in the dark - is me,' she said.
Éomer grinned 'Welcome into the light, love. I will call for the servants and have a bath prepared'. After kissing Lothíriel one more time, his lips lingering on hers as he whispered how well she had pleased him during the night, Éomer rose from the bed and put on his robe. Then he went to the fireplace and pulled the bell cord, leading to the kitchen.
After a while they heard a knock and the housekeeper, Fréalin entered. Éomer bade her getting a bath ready for them. Fréalin had known him since he was a boy, having been Théodred's nurse and a valued member of the royal household for many years and she had no reservations whatsoever towards him.
Seeing the queen still in bed and the look both of the bed and on their faces, she hid a smile and said 'I shall see to it myself. I do not believe that you would want any of the giggling girls in here this morning', as she turned and went about her business.
Éomer opened the window to let in some air and fetched Lothíriel's robe. She jumped out of bed to don it and when Fréalin returned with the hot water, they were standing at the open window looking out over Edoras, Éomer with his arm round his wife's waist. They both turned and smiled at Fréalin and she returned the smile, thinking to herself: 'They look truly happy; this union will indeed be a blessing for Rohan. She will be good for him and for the people.' She walked to and fro for a while, bringing the water in.
Soon she left, announcing that the bath was ready and Éomer grinned roguishly at his wife before reaching over and untying the belt of her robe. 'I think that we shall save water and bathe together,' he said wickedly before proceeding to remove her robe altogether along with his own and lifting her to carry her into the side room.
Lothíriel giggled and put her arms around his neck, 'A good idea, my lord. I hope that we shall fit in the tub both of us.'
'Oh, we will. I will make sure of that.' Éomer mumbled.
It took a good while for the young couple to emerge from their rooms; both casually dressed; Éomer in dark brown breeches and a shining white shirt, his hair hanging loose about his shoulders and Lothíriel in a light green dress, her hair tied back with a simple band. They both looked immensely happy.
Éomer held his wife's hand as they entered the hall to join their guests for breakfast. Éowyn came up to them, a big smile on her face.
'I do not have to ask whether you had a good night; I can see that you did', she quipped, kissing her brother's cheek and embracing her sister-in-law, whispering in her ear:
'And judging from the sounds coming from your room last night, my brother had no trouble living up to his wife's expectations?'
Lothíriel blushed furiously, but could not help smiling at her husband's straightforward sister.
'No, indeed' she retorted 'he was more than able I should say.' And then she added jokingly 'I did not expect that you would stand in the hallway listening to what sounds may come from our room?'
Éowyn blushed a bit. 'Faramir and I were passing your rooms to get to our bed, and – ahem – could not help overhearing. After all, my old room is fairly close to your bedroom.'
She grinned mischievously and Éomer shook his head, mumbling 'oh, yes I seem to remember that' but flushed a bit as he watched his sister and his wife giggling, obviously enjoying their little joke.
Aragorn came up to him, bidding him a good morning. 'I see a smile on your face, dear friend. I trust that you had a good night, then?'
Faramir joined them 'I am not going to elaborate on the matter, but you do look like a cat that has found the cream,' he grinned.
Lothíriel's two brothers joined them, bidding their brother-in-law a good morning, also commenting on the contented look on the king's face.
'Is this a conspiracy?' Éomer asked 'because if it is, I might as well tell you all that – yes, we had a good night and no, I do not expect my wife to have any complaints.'
'We are just returning your good wishes and inquiries into our well-being on similar occasions, brother.' Faramir grinned.
Éomer grinned back; he certainly remembered how he had teased his friends the morning after their weddings. 'Well, I would expect no less from either of them,' he mused.
Loud he said: 'I think that we shall all settle down to have breakfast; at least that it is what I am going to do. I think that I have earned it.' And then he led his wife and guests to the breakfast table.
Also his father-in-law Prince Imrahil had joined them, and he shook his head smilingly at the usual banter between the friends. He kissed his daughter's cheek, wishing her a good morrow and said: 'I do not have to ask whether you are happy. You radiate happiness, my daughter.'
As they sat down, Éomer whispered into Lothíriel's ear: 'and I am happy, too. Which I will show you later on; this was the first night of many.' He moved her hand to his lips and kissed the fingertips, causing the others to grin, their wives to smile knowingly and Lothíriel to flush and smile happily.
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