Alright guys! This is it! Thank you so much for reading and I really hope you enjoyed it. I know it isn't much. But I've tried to weave a story together with the bits and pieces I've already done. Feel free to comment or message me with reviews, comments, and improvements. I always love feedback! I look forward to writing more fanfiction in the future and hope you will continue to read my stories. It's been fun!

-PH

P.S. Sorry for the bad smut. I'm not very good at at.

Ben cleared his throat standing on the other end of the study waiting for Eleanor to break her attention away from the window. Instead, she continued to stare. He was standing there now, but for how long? She was afraid to say anything. She was afraid they might be her last words. And he would be gone again. On the other hand, Ben wanted to say everything. It didn't matter what at that point. So he cleared his throat again and made a few steps toward her.

"It looks like you've got some cleaning up to do."

Unable to escape the inevitable, Elle closed the curtain. "Most of this is just garbage."

"That's one way of looking at it," he said, lifting a stack of papers with his finger with slight interest.

"Are you leaving?" she said getting straight to the point.

"No," he said quickly. "Not for a few days, anyway. I'll get a room at the Crown. Restock on supplies."

Eleanor nodded slowly. "You should stay here."

"Elle, I couldn't-"

"I insist. Just for one night. Have a good meal and a nice bed to sleep in. It's late in the afternoon, after all."

Ben thought on it. It would be rude to decline her invitation. But it would be awkward if he accepted. Eleanor knew this. And she had already prepared for either answer. After what seemed like ages of silence, Ben nodded.

"Alright. Just one night, though."

Eleanor smiled. "Good. I'll send some ale to your room."

"I'm guessing I'll be staying in my old place?"

"Of course," she gave a slight nod.

That night, Ben sat anxiously at the end of the long table in the dining hall. He had exhausted himself wandering about the castle. Although, he had spent most of his time in the gardens, lingering close to Walter's grave. He prayed, asked for advice. Though there was none to be given and even if there had, Walter probably would have smacked him on the back of the head. The armory hadn't changed other than the men stationed inside it who saluted him excitedly. He went back to his room and had a mug of ale Elle had gifted him only to find dinner was ready to be served.

As he sat there, he couldn't help but notice there was not a plate set for Eleanor. He was by himself sitting at a fancy table with silver shining at him. He looked down the hall in hopes the footsteps he heard were Elle's. But they were not. One of the butlers came with glass of wine fashioned on his tray.

"Where's Elle?" he questioned.

"The Queen has asked that dinner be brought to her study. She did not want to burden you this evening."

Oh Eleanor. Had it worried her so much that dinner would be so uncomfortable? Perhaps the silence between them would be too much to bear. But Ben had braced himself all day for this occasion. He had even washed up and practiced in the mirror. Or maybe he was over thinking. Maybe she was just really busy. He tried not to dwell on it as he ate the food in front of him.

The light flickered faintly from the doorway, casting a large shadow of the cracked door. He approached it cautiously, only out of curiosity of who could be on the other side. His heart tossed back and forth as he could not decide whether he wanted it to be an empty room with a single candle that was neglected or if it was Eleanor nurturing the flame, working by candlelight. As he pressed against the wall, peering in, he felt his heart leap and fall into the pits of his stomach. There she sat upon her desk, her finger running down the spine of a book on the shelf next to it. She pulled it into her hand and began to flip through the pages. Whatever she was looking for, she found it. And showed a very strong interest as her brow lowered in concentration.

Admitting defeat, Ben leaned his back against the wall and slid down it until he felt the floor underneath him. He brought one of his knees to his chest and sat there, listening to Eleanor turn the page. He had nothing. No money. No inheritance. Not even a title, anymore. He had his name and his rifle. And that was not enough for her. She needed more than that. She needed someone to proud of. Someone to protect her and help her lead. He wasn't meant for that. But he wanted it. He wanted it all. And he was growing tired of it.

"Ben?" her voice came suddenly from the crack of the door.

Fear struck his heart and he shot up from his spot on the floor.

"What are you doing?" she looked at him curiously.

"I was just checking to see where the light was coming from. I thought you'd be in bed and I, uh, was…"

"But why are you on the floor?"

"I… didn't want to interrupt you."

"Were you… were you watching me?" she felt herself blush.

"No! I mean… not really. I was curious. You weren't at dinner and when I saw the light…"

"I see," she said with a different shade of embarrassment. "I didn't mean to worry you."

"Do you mind?" he asked, gesturing with his hand to be invited into the study.

She looked behind her in hesitation. "I suppose not."

The study was dimly lit with a lantern on her desk. She had cleaned it up nicely in such a short amount of time. There were a few books on her desk, but nothing out of the ordinary. All of the letters and paperwork was stacked nicely on one corner. And the bottles of liquor had vanished. Now if only the air between them could be cleared, the study would not feel cluttered at all. Eleanor leaned against the edge of the desk, watching Ben examine the shelves in front of him.

"How does it feel to be back?" he said.

"It's comforting, for now."

"I guess I should thank you for your hospitality. I haven't had the pleasure of such luxuries in quite some time."

"You're welcome here anytime," she smiled.

Ben stopped looking casually around the room in an attempt to level with Eleanor. She did not seem bothered or nervous in the least bit, which put him to ease. But there was something about her demeanor that was more than offsetting. He could not leave her like this. The last time he did, he regretted it. Bracing himself with a deep breath, he joined her by leaning on the desk next to her.

"Elle, I don't want it to be like this between us. I don't want you to be afraid to talk to me."

She shook her head. "I'm just tired of sounding like a fool."

"If you're worried about what you said in Aurora, you shouldn't be. You are incredibly brave for saying it. But I… I don't deserve those words. I'm a complete coward and I don't even know where to begin in response."

"Maybe you could start with the truth."

"I'm just a man, Elle. An ordinary man with no money, no land, nothing. I literally have nothing," Ben gave a slight shrug.

"You know I don't care about any of that," Eleanor laughed. "Is that what is stopping you, Benjamin Finn? That you have nothing and that I have so much. I don't think I've ever heard of something so silly stopping you from getting what you want."

Afraid and trembling from her words, she watched as Ben turned toward her. He placed both his hands on the desk and hovered over her. Her eyes began to water as she looked straight into his. The tightening in her chest told her that her heart was going to break every rib in her body from pounding so recklessly.

"I don't have anything to give you," he said with sadness in his voice.

"You've already given me everything I could ask for," she whispered, grasping the edge of his collar.

"What do you want from me?" he said, giving in to her tugging and stepping forward into her.

"You already know the answer to that."

He was so close to her now, feeling her breath on his lips. He brought up his hand and touched the side of her face. "I can't promise I'll stay forever."

"I don't expect you to," she whispered back.

His thumb grazed down her cheek to her jaw. "And you'll always wait for me?"

"I've waited this long, haven't I?" her hand was sliding within the crease of his collar.

"What if I can't?" he breathed.

"What are you afraid of?"

The world came crashing down around Ben Finn. Darkness surrounded him and the only thing he could make out was Eleanor's face lit by the candlelight, some of her features hidden by shadow. Her breathing was the only thing he could hear, still feeling it so close to his mouth. Her hand rested on the side of his neck and the other was still clutching the side of the desk. He let a small chuckle slip from his mouth and looked down. Not for long, however, as he could escape the grasp Eleanor had on him.

"You," he shook his head. "I'm afraid of you."

Eleanor leaned forward, closing the gap between them and kissing him gently. She stopped.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because…" he said softly. "Because I love you."

Their lips enclosed around each other once again. Only there was nothing to to stop them this time. No fighting around them. Nothing else to be said. No one to tell them they shouldn't. Eleanor continued to tug softly on his collar until he nearly collapsed on top of her, feeling his bottom lp slide between her teeth. It was no longer their lips touching any longer. He felt her entire body pressed up against his. And it was everything he had imagined it to be. Finally giving in without second guessing himself further, his hands made their way up her back. Just as he pulled her in, filling her hips sway forward, she let out a gasp of air. And then she stopped, her fingers still intertwined into his hair.

"What is it?" he asked, suddenly confused.

She smiled. "I'll be in my room for the next hour. The light will be on. And I'll be waiting for you."

She then slid off the desk with a look of desire. He watched her walk away, her nightgown still sliding off her shoulder. A rather large lump had formed in his throat and he found it difficult to swallow. He reached around, feeling the back of his neck and fiddling in an attempt to fix collar. But there wasn't any point. He let out a sigh.

There began the most difficult battle Benjamin Finn had ever fought in his life. So many things tossed back and forth. Should he go? Or should he stay? Who would have said it wouldn't have happened on that desk? But who was to say he was in the right mind? Would it make things worse? Or, Avo please, would it make it better? The longer he thought about it, the more he pictured her laying alone in her bed. He didn't want that. But he would have to leave her alone, eventually. It would be worth it. And he wouldn't leave her alone forever. He came back before. He could always return again. It was inevitable.

With that still lingering in his mind, he straightened out his shirt. He gave himself a short little speech in his head before headed to the door.

Eleanor sat in the window sill of her bedroom. She sat, stroking the length of hair with her fingers, often twirling the ends. It had been early twenty minutes since she left Ben in the study. And she was surprised it had taken him so long. When she was sure he wouldn't come at all, her door creaked open. She hopped from the window sill, a smile blooming across her face. Ben cleared his throat as he walked in.

"And there you are," she couldn't help but laugh to herself.

"I couldn't think of anywhere else I'd rather be."

Her hands slid over the sides of his face while his ran past her hips. Their lips passed over each other with a graze of a tongue every so often. The sound of his breath echoed in her ears like waves crashing into the cliff side. He tightened his grasp on her, feeling his fingertips against her lower back. She arched it, sliding her hands into his hair and feeling his mouth inch downward. His breath was hot against the nape of her neck and it was enough enough to drive her made. Their clothes had not even been removed and she was already moaning in pleasure at his touch. It was not long before her fingers lingered down the buttons of his shirt.

Ben knew it would not take much to remove Eleanor's gown. So he allowed her to work hastily at his own clothing. Her fingers moved quickly down his torso, waiting patiently as she breathed into his ear while he continued to caress her shoulder, then neck, and sometimes even her ear. When he felt the air hit his chest, he lifted his face touching the tip of his nose against her before sliding the sleeves from his arms with her help. He kissed her again, harder than he had before. And she moaned into his mouth, her hands running rampant on his bare skin. As he felt her pressing against him, he suddenly realized... she was wearing nothing underneath the gown. Perhaps some garments. But as far as he could tell, the only thing separating him from her was a thin piece of satin. He needed to get rid of it. Now. She felt his fingers trace upward on her spin before they found their way around the tie on her back, already loose from their incident in the study earlier. They paused for a moment as her gown slipped onto the ground. She stepped gracefully out of it, toward him, and closer to the bed.

He opened his eyes only for a moment to look down and take in the length of her body. Despite the scars, the bruises, the flaws, she was still magnificently beautiful. And the feeling of her bare skin against him sent a cold chill through his veins. He was ashamed to admit, he had pictured her like this in the past: wearing nothing but her small clothes. But his visions did not do justice to what he was seeing. Her tattoos were feint against her pale skin, but he could see them enough to use as a guideline, running his hands around them. They had found their way to her lower rib cage and the inner boy in him could not resist reaching upward for her breasts. He even managed to let a small sliver of laughter slip as he fondled them. Eleanor giggled, sensing his joy and smiling as she remained latched to his lips. It only made him yern for her even more.

Luckily, she had already unlatched his belt before he could reach it. She pulled at his waistline, gesturing toward the bed. Trying to quicken the pace, he kicked off his boots on the way, stumbling as she fell onto the bed. He clumsily fell on top of her, not that it slowed their progress any. Now he was hanging over her, holding himself merely by his elbows as she clutched the bedside, her hips just barely over the edge. He lowered his knees to the floor, allowing his lips to graze against her body as slid down. He spent a moment to nibble at her hipbone before he hooked his fingers on her knickers. Every inch he pulled them down, his lips lowered just much, stopping at the far length of her inner thigh. Her hands gripped the side of the bed and she knew she would not able to wait much longer. She had waited long enough. Even now, her legs shook with anticipation.

It was a sweet sense of relief when she felt the warmth of his lips against her. She let out a cry, thrusting her hips forward and her head back. The feeling of his tongue sent her hands through his hair, pressing down against his head. The the lightest inhale of his breath against her clit made her eyes roll into the back of her head and her mind fell into a state of ecstasy. He laughed to himself knowing this was something she had not felt before and the bass in his voice vibrated through her. His hands slid from the back of her calves, up her thighs, and he pressed his thumbs tightly against the crease of her pelvic bone. He moved slowly, timing her hip movements with the opening and closing of his mouth. It was a moment of bliss, if only for that moment. But she could not stand to wait any longer for him. She released her fingers from his hair and slid them to his face where she lifted it to insinuate he was needed elsewhere.

Ben obliged her, crawling on top of her and pressing his knee where his face once was. She moved herself backward, giving him more space on the bed. As she did, she watched as he moved his free hands along the hem of his pants. Seeing he was keeping steady on the other, she moved hers quickly to help him. He stopped as they came to his knees. He rose up, blowing out the lantern on the bedside before laying back on top of her and kicking them off his feet.

The only light came from the window very faintly from the moon. It was only enough to illuminate the outline of their bodies. But it was more than they needed. They did not waste more time. He was inside in her the moment his pants hit the floor. Her legs were pressed tightly against him. Her hands tightly clenched his back. And her hips rolled with his every thrust. Needless to say, it did not take long before they felt their climax nearing. It was him first and when she felt him pulsing inside her, she could feel herself tighten. She wrapped her legs around his waste, allowing him to pump himself deeper inside. It was difficult to keep herself quiet and she screamed his name into the quiet of the night. And even when he finished, she continued to roll until her orgasm faded like a haze lifting at sunrise.

He didn't want to wake her as she was sleeping so peacefully next to him. So very gently, unable to resist, he brushed the hair from her face. A small sigh escaped her lips, but she did not stir otherwise. Any other time, he would have slid from the bed to creep into his pants. He would slowly slip on his shirt, take a boot in each hand, and make his way for the door. But this was not any other time. Instead, he lay propped on one arm and watched her sleep, forgetting about clothes in general. He had lost track of time entirely when she finally opened her eyes, big and brown and staring up at him. She smiled.

"You're still here," she whispered.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

She laughed. "I thought you might try to sneak out the window before dawn."

He shook his head. "No. I don't think I'll be doing that anymore."

Then there she was. Her dress was light blue and her hair was down. She was wearing light brown boots that came to her knees. He caught sight of them as the wind picked up. She was trying her best to hold it down while tucking her hair behind her ear. It wasn't like her at all. And it was most certainly difficult for him to get used to it.

"I thought we had already said our goodbyes," he couldn't help but smile.

She shifted her gaze, feeling a tinge of guilt. "And I suppose that's why I'm here."

"Elle, it's okay. You don't have-"

"But I do," she interrupted.

He was glad she was there. He really was. But it would have been easier to leave if she had just stayed at the castle. He took her hand in his own, looking over the scars across her knuckles. He laughed to himself, knowing the only thing she would hold in those hands again would be a pen.

"I never want to see you unhappy."

"I know. And I won't make this difficult."

She touched the side of his face, feeling the stubborn hairs on his chin. He saw tears swell in her eyes. He wasn't going to wait for her to hesitate, so he leaned forward and gently kissed her. There weren't fireworks or explosions like the last time. It was quiet. And time didn't slow down. Just the two of them standing underneath the gate.

"I will never, never forget…" he said pulling away.

"And I will be here waiting."

He held both her hands in his own. He looked down at them. He wondered how many times he looked down at those hands. Examined them. Judged them. Doubted and them. And then picked them up again. Time after time, Eleanor continued to teach him with those hands. Before, he wasn't really sure what those hands meant to him. But for the first time, as he cradled them gently, rubbing his thumb across them, he realized those hands were his to hold.

"I'll come back for you," he looked back into her eyes. "I promise."