Chapter 8
The feast had ended and the guests retired. Only a few remained. A small gathering of friends for one last drink around a warm fire.
Lothíriel took another sip of her tea as she leaned in the doorframe. The library's high window was opened and the chilled air was a blessing. It was one of those night... A most beautiful starlit sky.
She wrapped her arms around herself as she glanced across the room.
The group had gathered in the library after dinner and were all deep in conversation. Lothíriel eyes roamed the endless rows of books, bringing memories of much happier times. That library had always been a favorite place. Everytime she would visit Minas Tirith, she made sure she spent enough time in there. Not that her house in Dol Amroth didn't have one, oh no... But this one was the biggest she had ever seen. Its walls were filled with books that transported her to other places and times. Different people, different costumes... Back in the days when the shadow wasn't a threat to all.
She sipped her tea once more and sighed.
Tomorrow, her family would leave... Again... To face the enemy in one last battle at the Black Gates. The battle that whould decide all fates. She turned to them near the low burning fireplace.
Her always strong and caring father, the ruler, the image of rightness... Elphir, the eldest brother, the valiant protector, the one she turned to in trouble... Erchirion, who shared her love of books and learning, her teacher in life... And Amrothos, her companion in joyous times, the one that made her laugh her heart out...
And so would he...
Shaking the thoughts out of her head, she took another look outside.
"You seem distracted..." Legolas asked, coming closer to her.
Smiling softly at him, she answered. "Not distracted... Sad... I know I should just seize the present. Be grateful for having my family here tonight but... I can't help thinking about the tomorrow."
"Of course not. You wouldn't be who you are if you didn't."
She set her head against the frame and closed her eyes in abandonment. "I'm the daughter of a great leader and a sister to three brave men... For them, I should be strong... I should know how to be strong by now..."
"My lady, there are many kinds of strength..." Legolas said smiling.
They shared a friendly silence of mutual understanding. Even though they have met recently, she felt they had much in common.
"I have seen the birth of many days..." Legolas said. "Some beautiful, some dark. But it makes no difference for each day is unique. An every day, I thank the Valar for my family, my friends and myself."
"So, you mean to said that, even if I was to live thousands of years, this feeling would always come at times like these?" she asked.
"Always... It's who we are. Creatures of love."
She laughed lightly at this.
"Come." he said, raising his hand to her. She placed her own in his. "Let us rejoin those of lighter mood. Tomorrow will be grim enough."
As they returned to the room, she noticed Éomer rising. His strong voice was heard.
"My friends, I take my leave of you. Éothain and I must return to the camp. There are a few matters that need supervision before we ride."
All stood and exchanged partings. Bowing, he added, turning to Lothíriel. "My Lady."
Legolas left Lothíriel's side and motioned towards the warm fireplace. He took a seat next to Aragorn and the group continued the conversation, trying to embark in lighter matters to easy the tone.
Lothíriel felt her heart sank to the ground. What sort of feeling was this...? This sense of emptiness...? The sense that nothing made sense when evr he leaves the room...? She pondered her choices. She knew herself... She was well aware that she had a very great flaw: she was a logical woman. She kept thinking about things, over and over again if necessary, until they made sense! She couldn't bare the possibility of never making sense to whatever was going on within herself. What on Middle Earth was this feeling? She had to know...
Unnoticed, Lothíriel set the cup in a nearby table and eased herself out of the library, following the Rohirim. As she reached Éomer in the hallway, she called to him.
"My Lord? A word."
Éomer turned to face her. "My Lady, I have instructions and preparations that I must attend and..."
Excuses...
"It will not take too much of your time." She interrupted. "Honestly."
A moment of silence.
Addressing Éothain in Rohirrim he said "Set things in motion, I will follow suit."
"Very well. And Éomer... Refrain your temper." Éothain suggested.
"Will you just go!!?"
Smiling, Éothain bowed to them and left.
Turning to Lothíriel, he said "Very well then."
He was waiting, looking deep in her eyes. Now would be a good time to apologize...he thought. So why couldn't he? And why had he felt his fury boiling under his skin watching her talk to Legolas? Blasted elf...
She swallowed hard, feeling a sudden lump in her throat. She couldn't speak.
"My lady, I really don't have time for this so, if you please, get to the point." he pressed bluntly. He was not a subtle man.
"Fine then. I wanted to talk to you about... Well, some things that have come to pass between us... Apart from the arguments... We did had quite a few..." She started. When he didn't replied, she added. "A specific night, in the Houses of Healing, to be precise. Do you remember...?"
"I remember perfectly, my lady. " He could feel his temperature rising but tried to refrain it.
"So... What do you have to say for yourself?"
"Me?!" He uttered surprised.
"Yes, you!!" She noticed she was raising her voice. Then, in a lower tone she added. "It was your doing after all! You had no right to... to touch and kiss me..." she almost whispered the last words.
His face was one of disbelieve. Lothíriel could see his nostrils starting to flare.
"Well, I was under the impression I wasn't alone in the kissing and touching!!" he hissed between his teeth." On the other hand, since we, Rohirrim, are just a...what was it you called us?! Oh yes... a 'bunch of disorganized farmers and horsemen' perhaps my intelligence is somewhat lacking by your standards!"
Lothíriel's breathing was growing heavier, her fury rising as well.
Calm yourself or you will lose reason.
"Oh, I already said I was sorry for that..."
"Well, perhaps sorry wasn't enough!!" he hissed again.
Servants passing by were directing their gaze to them. Their discussion was drawing attention.
They needed somewhere private to finish this. Her bedroom was just across the hall. It wasn't the best placed to have a conversation and definitly wasn't proper but it was the nearer division that could give them some privacy.
Seizing the opportunity that the hall was now deserted, she walked towards it and motioned to him to follow her. He did so and she closed the door behind him.
"So, you are saying I should look at it as some sort of lesson?! Or punishment!? I told you that I meant no disrespect..."
"Really, My lady??" Sarcasm in his voice. "Did you also meant no disrespect when you called me a 'The last in line of lesser kings'?"
That does it!! She thought.
"And you are taking my words out of context, My lord!" she fired back, "And no, I meant no disrespect! I just said it! I wasn't thinking!" she tried to explain.
He raised his voice. "Then why these words!?"
She was getting on his nerves.
"I... I was trying to be hurtful!" she admitted.
"Hurtful!?..."
"Yes, purposely hurtful."
"On purpose!?!" He failed to understand.
"Yes, on purpose, you stupid man!!"
He moved towards her, almost imprisoning her between his body and the wall.
"Oh, for Bémas' sake!! You're driving me insane, woman!!!"
Getting a hold of his face and drawing him to her, she asked. "Then, will you just shut up and kiss me?"
Hungry lips met in a desperate and consuming kiss.
Lothíriel felt all the passion in that kiss and she allowed her body to melt into Éomer's. She could now feel the cold hard wall on her back as he pushed her there.
Their tongues touched repeatedly, caressing one another as soft moans escaped from her.
His lips left her mouth as he seeked her throat, placing a trail of languidly hot kisses, his hand tilting her head in the opposite direction in order to give him better access. Lothíriel panted, arching her back and grasping his shoulders making the distance between them non-existent. She thanked the Valar he wasn't wearing his full armour.
"Lothíriel..." he whispered in her ear.
She cupped his face, pulling him towards her and again their lips were together.
She knew this wasn't right, it wasn't proper but in that moment... she couldn't care less.
To Mordor with propriety...
He intertwined his hands on hers and raised them above her head. She got a hold of his bottom lip between her teeth and tugged it slighty.
Éomer's response was a low groan that resonated through her.
His hands released hers and started to roam on her body as he captured her lips once again, this time with shear force.
Their bodies were closed in a tight embrace.
Without a logical thought in his mind, he traced her right hip downwards and grabbed her knee making her dress slide across her flesh, exposing her skin and making Lothiriel shiver.
When she felt the contact of skin on skin, she moaned once again in his lips and grabbed the collar of his tunic, deepening the kiss.
Her right leg came up to the height of his waist as she continued to feel his hands moving across her bare skin.
"Éomer..." she sighed, in a husky voice.
Her own hands, moved from his face, across his muscle tight chest and reached the hem of his tunic. Sliding her hands inside it, she felt his warm skin under her palms. She could trace every inch of him...
The lusty side in her was growing fast. She could feel it... pooling inside of her, reaching the brim. She wanted nothing more then to feel him... The hole of him. No barriers between them. Feel his warmth on her, his skin in touch with her own...
By now his hand had reached her inner thigh. Lothíriel's mind blurred as she gasped for air when she felt him touching her intimately.
It was by now well beyond their control. Her reason was long lost, his mind completely fogged by desire.
Her hands moved from his back to front making Éomer suck in breath throught his teeth as she reached the strings of his pants.
Breaking the kiss and leaning his forehead on hers, he tried.
"Wait... Lothíriel... we can't..."
"We could all be dead tomorrow..."
"I..." he stopped mid sentence as he felt her hand brushing across the front of him, ever so lightly.
Undoing the strings and reaching out for him, she whispered in his lips.
"Make love to me..."
He was utterly lost.
Kissing him fiercely, Lothíriel pushed him back until his legs hit her bed. She forced him to sit and slowly, lifting the skirt of her dress, she sat astride him.
"Lothíriel... Are you...?"
"Hush... Yes, I'm sure... " She smiled at him and placed a soft kiss on his lips. Then she felt his hands on her again, tenderly smothing her hips, and thick lust re-emerged. With a husky voice, she said "Teach me..."