#happiness series

[lethalchiralium]

Simon sleeps best when your head is on his heart, knowing his heartbeat lulls you to sleep most nights. Your arm on his chest, the other tucked underneath your side and your leg thrown across his hip - no matter how bony you say it is. “You have no cushion there, Si,” you always say, “You need to eat more. They don’t feed you enough when you’re working anyway.”

His head is either back on his pillow, eyes staring at the ceiling or he’s looking at you. Baby monitor on his side of the bed, wanting you to take more rest. I’ll be awake anyway, he says. Damned sleep schedule, he says. He’s asleep ten minutes after you are.

He sleeps second best when his head is settled on your stomach. Hands cradling your lower back, eyes drooping as the TV hums from across the room. Your fingers in his hair, your body wash lingers on your skin. He rubs his cheek a bit on your stomach, just to make you smell like him.

He sleeps the third best with the dog pile - Mellie on his chest when you finally allow her to sleep in the bed, Winnie tucked into his side in a ball, and your head on his shoulder and hand gently settled on his belly button - near Mellie’s socked feet.

He doesn’t sleep much when he’s far from home, far from the woolen blankets, loud laughs and soft cries. He can’t rest when you aren’t beside him, holding him through the nightmares and the dreams that make him cry silent tears. He doesn’t sleep well without knowing his home is safe, that his girls are asleep soundly - whether they’re in his bed or their own, all three of his Riley girls are safe and sound.

That’s all he’ll ever care about.

[epilogue-and-prologue]

Happiness - Chapter 1

Fandom: LOTR

Ship: Eomer x F!Reader

Trope: Arranged marriage

Note: Reader is Elfhelm's daughter and I invented a lot for what I didn't know so probably A LOT of mistakes.

Word counts: 7 229

Warnings: Dealing with grief, loved one's deaths, depression, SMUT at some point, poverty, war's aftermath, diplomatic relations, pregnancy, blood, miscarriage

Tags: @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @middleearthpixie @glassgulls @evenstaredits @fizzyxcustard @sotwk

The water was hot under your fingertips. Soon, your skin would lose its smooth and you would have to go.

Your home was outside the walls of Edoras. It had always been. Sheltered from the loss and the pain. You had been able to see the planes, deep greens and shy yellows, from your very room.

As a child, your visits to the city had been sparse. Your mother was adamant, your education would not be done on the road, but within your home. The joys of childhood had been gone so soon with her. To her credit, raising daughters was not an easy task. With your brother, Alaric, she had managed to ship him off with his cousins or with your father when he became unbearable. Moira and you, on the other hand… You had been thick as thieves, running away on the bare back of horses, coming back with bruises and cuts, laughing until you could not breathe. She never resented you for it. In return though, she had chastised you both numerous times.

“You should focus more on your books. Finding a good husband asks for a sharp mind.”

Once the bath had gone cold, you pulled yourself out. Soon you would be riding towards that good husband your mother had told you about. It had happened later rather than sooner, but it made your mother happy and gave you a reason to leave. The sorrow in these walls, although familiar, was too much to bear.

Within a few years past, both your siblings had passed away.

Moira had been married less than a year when she died, the common flu taking her. She was buried and long gone, her pretty eyes and generous smile shining for you in your dreams. Alaric, with his luxurious hair and his need to prove himself, had gone on a battle too many and died. Your father had come back home with his body behind him. He had shed so many tears that night.

Yet, here you were, getting dressed and finalizing your definitive departure from your family’s home. Their graves were there, both their bodies resting deep underground. They were at peace, at least.

Your parents were to accompany you on the journey to Edoras. For the hours it took, your silence was met with vain attempts at making you smile. Your mood and heart had turned sour after losing your siblings and even more so at the idea of leaving them behind.

“Brunhilde, I fear she may make him run.

-Don’t say such silly things, husband. You know her. She’ll pull through. With time.”

Their incessant biker was the only reason you were not growing insane. It was a known sound, almost ever-present at the back of your mind. Luckily, your mother knew your grief. She believed it healthy to feel your emotions and never angered herself with you for being distant or depressed.

The last months had been charged with new demands and new protocols to learn. Indeed, despite your family’s misfortune, they still had the advantage of being wealthy. Your father had married into a family of silk traders while himself being the heir to a military family. He had status, military experience. Without mentioning the fact that he had fought alongside the king. Your mother had money as well as a sharp sense of business. That made you one of the perfect candidates for the place the King of Rohan was searching for: a wife. About the man, your father had only said “Once a soldier, always a soldier”. As if it was making sense in any way shape or form.

“Elfhelm, don’t frighten her.

-I’ve known him for years. He never took any interest in anything besides his horse and his duties since I don’t know when. I love the man, but he has a long way to go with women.”

She hit him lightly on the arm, trying not to smile.

“You are talking about the King.

-I am talking about a close friend of mine.”

You looked at him over your shoulder. His lips were in a thin line. You knew what he was thinking about. Eomer had been betrothed to another before you. Enora, originally Theodred’s betrothed. She was a close friend of his. They had grown up together, sharing a deep bond. Just like Moira, she had died. An ill-fated fall broke her neck. Nothing to be done. It was just about three years ago.

The council had expressed concern for the King’s mental health when he pushed away their attempts for a new match to be made. He had not grieved, your father had told you, in confidence.

The King’s choice of bride was not a trivial matter. Your father knew of the council’s demands, as well as Eomer’s resistance to it. That’s why he suggested you. You, whom Eomer had met several times, before becoming Marshall and years away from even considering being King. He was closer in age to Alaric, training with him. After several failed attempts at joining them, you had abandoned the idea of being friendly with him altogether. Over the years, he had grown as you did, becoming a teenager and then an adult. The monthly visits had turned into yearly meetings with your father.

Beggars were growing in numbers and he needed to have new buildings built to receive them. Especially the children. Your mother’s wealth had come in handy then, a nice amount of gold coming with you in this alliance.

Then, the war occurred and he had disappeared altogether, your father being the one to leave for months. To your knowledge, the fact that you were his first in command’s daughter was not a problem. His thoughts were elsewhere entirely. The population of Rohan had lost everything in the fire and destruction of the war. Entire families were completely dependent on one income in the best of cases.

The price to pay for your hand. Even as a child you had wished to go on adventures, live the life you only saw in books, and travel. None of that ever happened. So, you had poured all these wishes into your only chance at ever leaving your home: marriage. You were not even wishing for a happy marriage. Just a good one. One in which you could converse with your husband, maybe, hopefully, have children and find a sense of contentment in your life. The desire for adventures was long gone along with your childhood.

Your horse had been one of the few memories you had been allowed to take with you in your new married life. Lora was her name. She was a feisty beast. Usually quiet and soft, she could put up a fight if you were being rough with her. You had learned the hard way when on a day of quiet anger, you had pushed her a little too far. She all but had you fall from her back in huffs and puffs.

She grew agitated upon entering the city. A hand on her neck steadied her. Curiosity guided your eyes over the wooden houses, the children joyfully running around their parents, and a growing crowd encircling your horse and your parents’ carriage. People erupted into joyful songs and flew Rohan’s banners all around you. A smile played on your lips upon seeing the smaller children weakly waving in their parents’ arms. Their presence was a balm to your heart, always. You waved back.

Three silhouettes could be seen from where you were. A tall and fair woman, her long blond hair in a single braid. Her soft smile and kind eyes were sealed onto you, her hand resting on the arm of the man next to her. He was handsome, a little taller than her, with brown hair in soft curls. He seemed reassuring, and kind. His hand rested upon hers. They were married, you realized, her swollen belly an omen of good things to come.

When you dismounted, a stable boy took hold of Lora’s reins and guided her away.

A few feet away, standing tall was Eomer. The crown on his head and his richly decorated clothes could not be confused with anyone else’s. His armour was shining under the sunlight, his hair moving with the wind. You could not see his eyes. Your heart started beating erratically at the idea that this man was going to be the rest of your life soon. It made you dizzy. Your parents walked ahead of you, climbing up the stairs to the entrance.

Your father saluted him in a brief friendly embrace before bowing to the couple next to him. In a flash of remembrance, you recalled the name of Eowyn and Faramir, Prince and Princess of Ilithien. You had never met her personally but in his younger years, Eomer had mentioned her several times either in fondness or annoyance, as all siblings do. And, of course, her deeds in the battle of Minas Tirith were legendary by now. You envied her bravery.

A quick cough from your mother snapped you out of your stare, forcing yourself to bow in reverence. The drum against your chest was bound to break something if it did not stop. A long-forgotten feeling fleeted in your stomach: hope, at last. After the unforgiving years you had been through, hope had been diluted to an afterthought. A bittersweet taste in your mouth in the morning you quickly washed away with the more reasonable thoughts you carried now that you were full grown.

When Eomer’s eyes settled on you, your parents leaving way for him, the world stopped spinning. It was as if gravity was not ruling you anymore, but his presence did. He smiled gently, his lips brushing your hand never breaking eye contact.

The Eomer you had met was nothing compared to the man he was now. Even his face had changed. You remembered the chubby-cheeked boy in the outside court, the lanky teenager later on. His eyes were soft on you but weary. The crinkles at the corner of his mouth were more pronounced, his smile forced as if he was in pain. And maybe he was. You frowned slightly, concern slowly making its way onto your face, not being able to refrain from it. His lips felt chaste on your skin, his demeanour perfectly measured and polite.

Where hope had found its way, doubt did too, troubling your heart even more.

The sound of the parade outside dimmed once you stepped inside, alongside him. He let go of your hand then, as your parents reached your side once more.

Eomer exchanged another easy smile with your father. It did not reach his eyes, you noticed.

“I do hope you traveled safely. Although I have no trouble imagining that Elfhelm would have defended you well.” Your father let out a chuckle. “Milady, if you would allow, my sister will accompany you to your chambers.”

Eowyn’s voice cut your contemplation short.

You pulled your hood off, now protected from the unmerciful winds outside. Only then did he meet your eyes. You felt his look more than you saw it. Like a burn, creeping from your neck to your face. His eyebrows were knitted and you could almost see the colour of his eyes from where you stood.

“Brother, you flatter me. I am sure you would be so kind as to show your betrothed her chambers, would you not? You were mentioning earlier how you regretted not knowing her better before the ceremony. This would be the occasion.”

You knew your mother would gasp before she did. Eowyn’s suggestion was inappropriate, to say the least. Two unmarried people alone? Nonsense. Willing the impromptu smile to go away, you had to bite the inside of your cheek. She was bolder than people told. It suited her.

Eomer seemed more annoyed than surprised by his sister’s plea in your favour, as he arched a brow in her direction.

Faramir’s intervention arrived just in time.

“Do not fret. What my wife meant is a simple visit with her as chaperon. I, on the other hand, will gladly escort you to Gera. She is the most dedicated maid chief, as well as the most suited to answer any question you might have. She will lead you to your chambers.”

Your parents were so bewildered they did not dare discuss Faramir’s sayings. After all, he was a man of Gondor, noble and the son of a Steward. That was one thing your parents did not dispute: ranks. They followed him in utter perplexity and silence, your father throwing a warning look to Eomer from afar. He caught your eye and turned around quickly. He knew his wife’s wrath, and yours was very much your mother’s. Still, you were his daughter and he wanted to protect you. More importantly, knowing Eomer as he did, he was afraid of the heartbreak he could cause you. He was not old enough to have missed the look on both your faces. It worried him more than it should have, but he’d have to make do with his actions. Elfhelm was the one who had offered your hand in the first place, after all.

Once they were eclipsed, Eowyn took your hands in hers, fretting over you.

“Let me look at you. Your hands are so cold. You look a little worn off. I am guessing you must have traveled for a long time, how are you feeling?”

You stumbled upon your words, mouth dry with exhaustion and stress.

She turned to smile at him. He pressed his lips together in a semblance of acknowledgment. You could not see that she rolled her eyes at him, irritated by his behaviour. She turned back to you.

“I-I am good, milady. We rode for a few hours, but nothing I could not handle.

-Do you hear that Eomer?”

As she spoke, she lead you inside the place. She asked about your hobbies, what you liked to eat, and what was your life like in your parents’ home. Eomer stayed silent the whole time. He was a ghost behind the two of you. Although, you could not shake the feeling he was listening to every single one of your answers. Once you arrived at your door, she asked one last question.

“Did you bring your horse with you? You could go riding around the planes. It is very beautiful this time of year.”

“Do you have any siblings? Eomer never mentioned any in his letters.”

The silence following that sentence made you queasy, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, bowing your head. The fact that he mentioned you in his letters was flattering but your siblings’ memory brought a renewed sense of grief over you. Eomer’s eyes were on your face, his mouth opening about to say something when you spoke.

“I did, milady. Two. Moira and Alaric. Unfortunately, they passed away. I am the only one left.”

Your smile did not quite reach your eyes. Eowyn turned to Eomer, sharing a silent sadness between them.

“Alaric and I trained when we were children. A tall child, with brown eyes. You knocked him once or twice on his backside.”

A chuckle escaped your lips as Eowyn’s recollection washed over her.

“Yes! I remember. He was always apologizing for hitting me. He did not want to hurt a lady. Even though the lady beat him up pretty badly, several times.

-He used to pretend that Moira and I were damsels in distress and that he had to rescue us from a vicious dragon. More often than not, we ended up wrestling with him in the river, turning ourselves into dragons just to spite him. He was not very fond of that game.”

Eowyn laughed, turning to her brother who was trying to hide away his amusement, as you smiled fondly at the memory. You missed them deeply. When she spoke again, it was in a gentle tone.

“I am sorry for your loss. I do hope you find happiness within these walls as Eomer and I did after the loss of our parents.” She kissed your cheek. “And comfort as well.”

Then, she opened the door to your temporary chambers and let you in your bedroom. The sun was bathing it in a warm light, the fire freshly lit against the cold drafts, a small desk next to a mahogany wardrobe in front of a neatly made bed. All of it looked magnificent. You lost yourself in the decor, looking everywhere you could, hypnotized by the details in the furniture and the beautiful carvings in the stone.

In a surprising turn of events, it was Eomer’s voice you heard, carrying across the room.

He hesitated and stepped in. He was getting closer to you, Eowyn softly closing the door behind him, leaving you two alone. Your heartbeat accelerated when you noticed.

“I do hope it is to your taste.”

“It is, your Highness. Thank you for the thought.”

His fingertips put away a strand of your hair in a delicate gesture. He looked just as surprised as you were by it. A light cough and a step back put him out of your way soon enough. Yet, air had left your lungs completely.

You bowed again. His hand on your elbow stopped you.

“Don’t. You are at home here.”

“I am sorry we have to meet again under these circumstances. I would have hoped for more time…”

He stopped his sentence there.

Eomer’s hands were clasped behind his back now, trying to hide his fidgeting to no avail. Feeling the warmth of the fire now, you took off your cloak, hands in front of the flames to warm them up.

His eyes trailed down your newly shown figure and his breath caught in his throat. What he remembered of you had grown fuzzy and as in a fog. Alaric or Elfhelm were the ones he usually came to see. As a child, he remembered your fondness over your older brother. Always trying to get him to take you with him when going on rides. He had a hard time saying no. Later, he had seen less of you. The only memory he had of you as a teenager was one of a child running away from her mother, her braids long in her back, laughing with her sister in confidence. You had payed no mind to him. After that, he had been so busy he never could catch you. Your father was very generous with the stories of your shenanigans. Once his children gone, he grew stingy, trying to keep those memories close to him, in a vain effort not to lose them. How was he supposed to do this?

In the meantime, as Eomer was losing himself in the past, you chose to let your eyes dwell in the dancing light. A thought for your mother passed through your mind. She would have an attack if she knew you two were alone in that room.

“We have to make do with what little control we have. Elfhelm told you about those peculiar circumstances, did he not?”

Surprised in your own thoughts, you nodded, in silence, focusing on getting yourself warm. His presence was disturbing. You wanted him gone and for him to stay at the same time. It was pulling you apart.

“As you know, I have obligations to the people of the Rivermark and obligations to the council of elders.

-My Lord, with all due respect, what are you getting at?”

Eomer recognized your father’s frank talking and wondered for a moment if he would come to hate it or love it, years down the line. For now, it made him laugh interiorly. The apple did not fell far from the tree.

“Call me Eomer. This has no place in this union.”

Your eyes snapped to his upon hearing his words, not quite believing him.

“I-

-Please. We are to be married. I want you to call me by my name. Not my title.

-As you wish, my… Eomer.”

He almost choked upon hearing your mistake. The politeness in your tone, laced with something he could not quite place, caught him off-guard. You were calling him yours. Something which had not happened in years happened in that moment: his resolve wavered. Quickly, he regained his composure. He had to say what he came here to say.

With a hand on his sword’s handle, he took another step towards the fire. He was closing in on you and you did not know how to feel about that. The heat within the room was becoming unbearable, from his proximity or from the fire you did not know.

He smiled weakly, his hair covering partially his face. How much you wanted to push it behind his ear. Face to face with him, a few meters apart, you could see the look in his eyes. Guilt and what you identified as sorrow. His eyes were so expressive, it was hard to miss. Although, you figured he might have been trying to hide them and made no note about it out loud.

“I take it you know about my previous… engagement.”

“I am.

-I have to confide in you with something you should know before the ceremony”

Your heartbeat stopped. What was he meaning to say?

“I do appreciate your dedication and your loyalty to your family. I value that greatly. That is why I am telling you this…”

His eyes darted away from your face, the difficult truth coming out of his mouth in a haste.

“I… The woman I lost… I still feel for her. A deep bond. As I did when she was alive. I do not know whether or not it will be broken or fade. I wanted you to know that.”

Eomer’s eyes were now clouded over. You did not dare come too close, settling for a hand on his arm, squeezing gently his muscle through the cloth.

“I see. Thank you for sharing this with me.”

He clasped his hand over yours, thankful for the gesture of support.

It was as you had thought. This marriage was going to be a loveless one, but one of companionship and trust. To you, it was what mattered the most. Or, at least, you could convince yourself of that in that moment. Convince yourself that his hand on yours did not break your heart in a thousand pieces, making your renewed hope crumble in on itself. Your mother had taught you better than that, you thought and kept your face from wavering.

“Eomer, I have to say, it does not come as a surprise. I figured a long time ago that my dreams, grand and beautiful as they were, were not realistic. Ever since I only wished for a peaceful marriage, children, and understanding. Despite what you may think, I am glad you told me.”

Taken aback, you turned away from him. At this angle, the sun was hitting your hair in such a manner, several hues of red appeared in them, making them look like a riot of autumn leaves. He found himself staring. It took him by surprise, this feeling of helplessness towards newfound beauty. Something resembling tenderness settled in him.

This seemed to quiet the guilt in him, the relief washing over his face. It mad you quiet for a moment, the way his brows relaxed and his posture dropped an inch or two. He looked like a man, not a king anymore. It was different from what you had seen so far, but not unwelcome. His whole demeanour changed, as if walls had come undone. Without a second thought and in a show of good grace, he asked: “What were your dreams? As a child?”

“I wanted to travel the world. See the oceans and visit dragon’s lairs.” Your smile lit up the room. Again, he marveled at it, willing his face to remain neutral. “Fight ogres and monsters, defend the innocent.” Your arms hugged you, a shiver running down your spine. You sighed, a feeble smile on your face.

A soft knock on the door startled you both. Eowyn appeared.

“I am afraid my brother is demanded elsewhere.”

Tongue-tied, caught in the middle of his haze, Eomer merely nodded, his cheeks tainted, saluting you quickly before leaving the room altogether. His manners were different. He seemed out of sorts, embarrassed even.

Before your train of thoughts derailed, Eowyn grabbed your hand and walked you towards the tall window, admiring the outside world.

“For tonight, do you prefer red or grey?”

This afternoon was going to pass quicker than you thought.

After the few hours spent in her company, you yearned for a long bath and a good night of sleep. You could have neither. A dinner had been planned in your honour and you could not skip it, even for all the gold in the world.

It was nothing but elegant and quiet. Your parents sitting in front of you, Eowyn next to you, Faramir had gone for the night. On your other side, at the head of the table Eomer seemed trapped in silence. Even as he ate, no sound came out of him. Something was troubling him, you could see it. Everybody at the table could see it.

Eowyn would have none of it.

“So, you told us how much you wanted to discover the land and the people of the Rivermark. I believe we could arrange for a small visit. There is an open market this time of year, we could go and pick some new things for you. If you would like to, of course.”

It took you by surprise. Baffled, you found yourself speechless for a few seconds.

“I- I would love that, my…Hum. What should I call you?”

Out of the corner of your eyes, your mother’s hard stare told you that had been a wrong move. Your father merely chuckled, deeply enamoured with a piece of plum pie in front of him. What you did not see was the smile he exchanged with Eomer behind your mother’s back.

The princess made no note of it, although pleased by your candid question.

“Well. You could call me “Your Highness” in a more formal setting. We are in family here and soon you will be a part of it in your own right. I believe I would be very fond of having you call me Eowyn. Or sister if you’d like.”

She seemed unsure of herself, her hand coming to rest on top of yours in a reassuring manner. Your eyes filled with unshed tears, you nodded.

“I would love that, Eowyn.”

She sighed discreetly, relieved at your acceptance. She had feared it too triggering for you to accept the familiarity. Elfhelm butted in, suggesting he could call Eomer, “son” from now on too, to which the aforementioned “son” reacted as you would think he would. An unimpressed stare. No harm made, as your father laughed wholeheartedly. Your mother’s barely contained smile and half hearted slap on his shoulder made all of you laugh even more.

Your eyes met Eomer’s as you were both laughing. He sat up, a ghost of a smile on his lips. Too soon you broke eye contact, fearing for your heart if you were to drown in them. A subtle blush settled on his cheeks, Eowyn’s silent eyes teased him about.

For the days after, your father went away with the King. Dinners were taken in the kitchen, with your mother and occasionally Eowyn. Within the week, you became quite close, even going as far as calling her sister on occasions. She shared with you parts of the tale she had lived through and you had told her in return some odd stories about her brother when he was training on your family grounds. She enjoyed those very much. This afternoon, you were both preparing to go to the market she had mentioned. Unfortunately, her pregnancy was not letting her. She had thrown up all morning, not being able to keep down much food - or any at all.

-No. We said we would go together, I am not leaving you here feeling like this.”

“You should go without me.

Her answer was drowned in a new wave of nausea. Soon enough, Faramir arrived, worry written on his face.

“Thank you. I will take care of her now, if you’ll allow me of course.”

Eowyn weakly approved and, as the maids and her husband took over, you ushered yourself out of the room feeling sticky and uneasy yourself. Before you had a chance to walk away, a hand on your shoulder startled you out of your thoughts.

“Milady?”

It was the chief maid, Gera. You had met her several times before as she had taken a fondness for your mother and reciprocally. She was a fresh old lady, strong and broad, witty and smart like only wisdom can allow. Often, they were found in the kitchen gossiping with a cup of tea - or what you thought and hoped was a cup of tea - talking about the weather and their absent husbands.

-You do not look fine.”

“I am fine.

Eomer was planted on your other side. Gera curtsied and went ahead through the door you had just left behind.

“I am merely tired, my…” His brow arched as to defy you of uttering the word and it made you silent.

“Wait here.”

It was an order not a request. He passed by you, checking on his sister for what seemed to extend into a long moment of solitude. You felt dirty and exhausted. Upon seeing the sun high in the sky, you understood why. The care your provided for Eowyn had taken so long, it was the middle of the day already. Drowning in your thoughts you barely noticed Eomer coming out of his sister’s rooms again. Not until he spoke that is.

“You should go get changed.

-What… What for, Eomer?”

Your brows furrowed, you followed him as he all but strode towards your room.

“I believe you are due for a visit today, are you not?”

Mischief was obvious in his eyes. Before you could protest, his hand pushed at the small of your waist and you found yourself silent once more.

“I’ll wait out here all day if I have to.”

He closed the door behind him and left you utterly baffled. You did as he asked, the feeling of his fingertips just as memorized by your skin as if you had been branded in fire.

You recalled the talk you had with him upon your arrival. The hope you felt at that time had somewhat morphed into something more, even after being crushed. Pinpointing what it was turned into a pointless task but it made you feel inexplicably happy to have him with you today. It could not be right. You probably were just happy anyone was with you today so that you could get out of the castle.

He had kept his word. Once out of the room, he was still waiting for you, leaning against the wooden frame of the door.

“Let us get going then.”

The horse-ride was silent for the most part, alongside him. His eyes could not stop coming back to your figure. His sister had insisted he accompanied you. She even told him how much you needed a change of clothes. Even with your hair out of sorts and your dress riddled with crinkles, he had found you beautiful. As a wild flower in a field, needing nothing more but the earth, water and the sun to be.

“Eomer?”

The whisper reached his ear with the wind, making him realized he could have missed it. Your voice was enough to carry above even his deepest thoughts. Not that he would ever admit to it aloud.

“Yes? What is it? Do you need to rest?”

His concern was endearing even if overbearing.

-Because I wanted to.”

“No, I am alright. I was wondering… Why- why are you here?

The answer fell out of his lips without a second thought. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Eowyn did not put you up to this?

-Well, she did but… I would not be here if I did not want to.

-Oh.”

Certainly he meant it as a favor for her. Not that he wanted to spend time with you. Before the echo of the birds was all you could hear, you interrupted it.

“When I was smaller, I used to be so jealous of Alaric. And you.”

He scoffed indignantly. That could not be right.

-Because. Your life seemed easier than mine in so many ways. Weaving is not all it’s made up to be you know.”

“Why would you be jealous of us?

Despite himself he chuckled at that.

“Believe me, learning how to yield a sword isn’t either.”

His eyes grew sorrowful. The memories were taking over him, the wounded and tired men. The dead ones too.

-Yes. My father mentioned it. Although not too frequently. He is still distraught by it.

“Fighting always seemed like the noble thing to do. The brave thing to do. Once you’ve been on the battlefield, coming back from it is harder than you’d imagine. Life’s chores are made sweeter after that kind of experience.

-As we all are.”

Those were the last words he spoke to you, before reaching the village. They lingered in your mind long after that.

The village was quaint and crowded. You dismounted swiftly, barely waiting for him to join you, securing Lora to a nearby post. He was wearing a hood over his face, anonymity always a better option than being recognized and having to cut this excursion short. So many families were there. Small children were running around, chasing dogs the size of poneys, themselves being chased by parents or older children.

Eomer was standing a good few meters back from where you were looking at trinkets. The wind kept pushing your hood away from your face, while you were looking at the small cutlery in front of you. The smiles you gave the children were undoubtedly genuine. A small girl ran right past you, pursued by what looked like her brothers. She quickly found shelter behind Eomer’s tall stature. He seemed uncomfortable for a minute there. Yet, he crouched to the girls level, still hiding her from her kin.

-Hello, Sir.”

“Hello.

You joined him, crouching next to him, your hand on his shoulder absentmindedly. The feeling of your touch left him dizzy if only for mere seconds.

-Hello, little one. What are you hiding from behind the tall man?”

“Hello, milady.

Her little hand shot out to designate the aforementioned siblings. They were looking distraught themselves, the older one cursing under his breath.

-Yes, milady.

“Oh. I see. Are they your brothers?

-Then why are you hiding from them?”

Eomer’s surprise made you wonder if he had ever been run out of his own room by his sister even once. You had. Several times.

“I took this.”

From one of her small pockets, she pulled out a shiny rock, shaped like a tiny heart it seemed.

-No!”

“You took this from them?

The girl was growing angry.

“It’s mine. I found it in the garden and they saw and now they want to take it and sell it and I don’t want to it’s too pretty and…”

You placed a hand on her arm, Eomer’s silence beside you making you wonder if he was even there at all.

He did not know himself actually. His eyes were locked onto you, the tender gestures and soft words out of you were mesmerizing to say the least. Enora used to be so much more confrontational. She had no patience for loud cries and rueful children. They often laughed about it when mentioning their own possible children. He swallowed that thought deep inside, a sense of guilt nibbing at him.

“It is quite alright, we will solve this out together, is it good with you?”

The child nodded ferociously, not worried one bit as you took her in you arms and walked towards her three brothers.

“Polly, here you are! You scared us to death!”

Two adults joined them, a tall man with slender figure and a smaller woman by his side. She quietly scolded the children behind him. Polly reached for him and you put her in his extended arms. Her mother turned to you.

“I am so sorry for the disturbance my children have put you through. Tell us if you need anything from us for your time.

-Oh no, it was quite alright. Polly is a sweetheart.”

The little girl hid her face in her dad’s neck, visibly embarrassed but also very pleased by the compliment. One of the boys behind stepped forward, his mother pushing him.

“Milady, we are so very sorry for…”

You cut him short.

“I understand you wanted to sell the rock your sister found is that right?”

Ashamed, his head bowed, he nodded.

“Why would you do such a thing? What if someone was to sell your clothes without your accord what would you do?

-I am sorry, Ma’am.

-I know you are. Here. Instead of selling it, I will give you five coins for your sister to keep it as long as she likes. How does that sound?”

The boy could not believe his ears. He accepted the money - although it was not much - and thanked you profusely. Then, they left, Polly waving at you from her father’s shoulders. You waved back, a smile on your face. Eomer’s presence was still there. His voice was faint, for he was bewildered by you.

“You have a talent with children.

-Thank you.”

Bowing your head, fulled by the heartfelt compliment, your bravery took over your tongue.

“I’ve always wanted to have children. It is one of my biggest wishes.”

Eomer’s hand grasped your chin, until he was met with your heated eyes. Those were new. The look on your face was indescribable. Tenderly, almost in shyness, he kissed your forehead.

“I do hope it is something we can remedy soon enough. Make it a reality.”

You broke away all too soon. His breath suspended to your movement, in that instant he would have followed you anywhere, eyes closed. The rest of the afternoon was spent in quiet appreciation, and quick laughter. Eomer’s gestures were looser, his eyes never leaving your frame. On the other hand, he could have done this out of protection for what was his own? Your doubts still plagued you, day and night after that outing. Especially considering that a whole week passed without seeing him.

The warmth spreading in your cheeks was felt in his very fingertips.

The kitchen became a sanctuary, joining Gera and your mother around that cup of tea, which definitely was not tea.

Soon the engagement party arrived.

A maid had come in, a little younger than you, maybe by a year or two. She seemed excited to be the one to prepare you before the feast. She told you her name was Sofia. You remembered her. She was Gera’s daughter. She had made quick work of the corset and braided your hair in intricate patterns you would not have been able to do on your own.

“Thank you. It is a work of art.

-It’s nothing milady. My work here is done. I do hope you spend a beautiful evening.

-And I wish the same to you.”

She had left the room in nothing but a hurry. You wondered why until Eomer entered. His usual attire had been replaced with soft clothes, seemingly more comfortable yet more elegant in a rich burgundy fabric. His hair had been combed through, his eyes clear and fixed on you. Strangely, he appeared smaller, quieter… humbled. Your throat closed, incapable of looking away from him.

“Milady.” He leaned down, his golden hair catching the light of the fire. “You look magnificent.”

The dress you were given was a soft pastel green, showing your shoulders and neck more than you had dared to before, the fluid silk running down your waist like a river, stopped by a stiff new corset.

Your body was ablaze with his roaming eyes. You did not know what to feel or how to react to his looks. You feared it a trick of your mind.

It wasn’t. Eomer had not meant for it to happen. His irises were blown, he could feel it, his heartbeat like horses in gallop, taking in the way the fabric enlightened your figure, letting him see without looking parts of you still forbidden to him. His desire left no place for thought. Only his habits kept him from reaching out to you, as he wanted to. He had not desired anyone like that in a long time.

A faint thought brought Enora to the forefront of his mind, quickly erased by the very real revealed skin glintering in the fire’s light. He convinced himself it was just that: flesh desires and nothing more. Against himself, he still felt his heart clench once arrived, when you left his arm and greeted the guests and family.

The engagement party was a success. You danced together, every movement from him enticing you to bring him closer, leaving you breathless. Basking in the feeling, you chose to ignore the doubts plaguing your mind.

While taking a short break from all festivities, Faramir looked upon Eomer with amusement.

“Can you believe you only met a few weeks ago?”

Eomer’s eyes found yours in a heartbeat, across the room.

Your dress was swiping the floor gracefully as you were dancing with an elven emissary, taken aback by your laugh and energy. You did not know where it came from. Now, you just wanted to enjoy yourself. It was the only thing you were willing to focus on, your laugh a little too loud, your feet hurting, ale poured in your cup one too many times.

The king smiled fondly. His feelings came clear to him, as clear as he was looking at you right now.

Although she was long gone now, her presence in his thoughts was there even if thinning, his heart ached for her but not with the same intensity it had before. Realization dawned on him like a curse. It had found a new face to worship and love. You.

The tightness he had felt in his chest when you dismounted your horse that first day. The pure awe of you upon seeing your face after all these years. Soft glances exchanged across the dance floor right now, making him feel as if he had drunk too much. Your presence was making him forget. He was forgetting her when you were around. Against himself, against his best efforts to keep her close, keep her memories alive… Your very presence put that in jeopardy.

Fear washed over him. He wanted you. As he had wanted her.

He was lost.

Following that night Eomer, then, managed to keep you away as much as he could. Your presence was a danger to himself, or so he thought. He would come to learn that the very thing he thought was poisoning him, was also the very thing he needed to heal.

Next Part

[voca-song-a-day]

Today's featured song is: "An Earnest, Unrequited Love, Wanting to Make it Bear a Little Happiness" by UtataP & Tory Hitsuji feat. MAYU! (cw: stalking, violence, and video contains flashing imagery)

(Also, today is the 12th anniversary of MAYU's release!)

[retrotenn]

my second piece for the first sound zine !!! this is the happiness and peace of mine committeeeeee !!!!!!

[charrfie]

Chimera

Acrylic on canvas, August 2024

[fishsoyummy]

Grian finally reunites with his distant family in the new life series

[datcravat]

tetotetotetotetotetotetotetotetotetotetoteto!!!!!

[hinamie]

matching eye horror for u and ur back-from-the-dead bestie <333

[pemprika]

a love so eternally bedeviled 🌏

[isjasz]

Stellar death

[eydilily]

Flee with extra flee!

[lethalchiralium]

simon cooks a lot.

only when he’s home with you and the girls, no one else. he’s not a five star chef by any means, but when the food is served, everyone’s bellies are full and warm of food that tastes like home.

he’s happy with his beef stir fry, his mac and cheese (a recipe he only learned to charm you), and his lemon butter chicken and rice. winnie always asks for seconds, mellie doesn’t throw it on the floor for the cat, you always wipe your plate clean.

he doesn’t like how his chicken pot pie comes out, or the shepherd’s pie, or any of the fruit pies he has tried to make for you. you three still demolish them anyway. anything he thinks doesn’t look good or won’t be good in general, his family is still happy to eat because he made it.

he’s proud of providing for his family with more than just money. he’s proud to provide love, security, and bellies full of a home cooked meal. he’s proud of himself for being the husband and father he wanted to be, the man who gives his family his all.

he would never trade his girls’ happiness for anything in the world. maybe for a better chicken pot pie recipe.

[epilogue-and-prologue]

Happiness - Part 2

Fandom: LOTR

Ship: Eomer x F!Reader

Trope: Arranged marriage

Note: Reader is Elfhelm's daughter and I invented a lot for what I didn't know so probably A LOT of mistakes.

Fun facts: I only wrote this extended fic for this one sex scene during their wedding night. This gif is my favourite thing to look at right now. It's late and I'm tired so.

Word counts: 4 090

Warnings: Dealing with grief, loved one's deaths, depression, SMUT at some point, poverty, war's aftermath, diplomatic relations, pregnancy, blood, miscarriage

Tags: @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @middleearthpixie @glassgulls @evenstaredits @fizzyxcustard @sotwk

During the long weeks leading to the wedding, your days were either spent with your mother or Gera, taking over in your mother’s absence.

Indeed, thanks to your father’s insistence, she had been appointed as the wedding organizer. Or something akin to it. She was fussing and busying herself like she had never before, not even for Moira’s wedding. Your mother was a force of nature, but she could be a lot and having Gera was a good contrast to your mother’s buzzing energy.

First, the chiefmaid had kept you company or helped you find your way around the place. Quickly, she became a big part of your days. You visited orphanages with her and brought food to those in need in Sofia’s company. Over these shared times, she became a godmother of sorts - and her daughter a friend - always present when you needed them, and you always there when they needed you.

“Milady, I do believe it is most improper for you to work with the cooks in the kitchen.”

It had taken you almost three whole days of imploring her before you had managed to make Gera yield.

Gera did not believe in such a fantasy as fun. It was working or resting, no in-between. With that statement in mind, she had still followed you to the kitchen while you were asking questions to the bewildered pastry chefs meeting the future queen in such an unofficial manner.

When she asked for what purpose you wanted to cook, the word “fun” came out of your mouth. “To forget” would have been a more accurate description. Eomer’s attitude towards you had become erratic and even avoidant. You could not know why as he would not give you straight answers, always mentionning something he needed to take care of. The gestures of affection he had towards you were limited to him occasionally kissing your forehead and offering you his arm while walking. You had not had a good walk in days, the weather going grim with your mood.

The plates you were cooking always ended up given to people in need.

After that first expedition, it had become a habit of yours to go down to the kitchen to help, a few hours here and there when you could.

But, for every effort you made, Eomer seemed to have forgotten about you. Your actions were out of boredom, but if it could benefit the poorer all the better. He was always busying himself with new economic plans or diplomatic correspondence. He would not tell you about any of those things either and you figured it would take his mind off of things to talk about more mundane things. Like cooking. Suffice to say, it did not work.

So, when he stepped into the kitchen one day, leaving Gera to usher the poor cooks away, you were surprised, to say the least.

“Milady, you do know it is most improper for a future queen to wander around without an escort.

It had to be a trick of the mind though, Eomer did not feel that way and he had made that clear, spending all of his time away from you. Telling you about her. Amongst the fleeting moments of affection you had shared, he had talked to you about Enora. About the woman she was. It felt as a much needed talk for him. For you, it left you questioning everything. Even his commitment to you. Especially his commitment. It was clear that he wanted to keep you out. What for, that was a question you did not have the answer to, as many others when it came to him.

I had Gera until you arrived, my lord.”

He called your name in a soft commanding tone. You could feel the embrace you were missing in his words.

“I am sorry, that you find no suitable distractions in the castle. Nevertheless, you can not come in here. It is not your place. Nor mine as it turns out.”

You sighed. This day was bound to happen. It was improper, and that was that. People would talk. Even he had to uphold his status. He had to, even if he did not want to. Just like you soon enough.

“I know. I am aware of that. I just… Needed space. From the wedding’s preparation, from my mother - I love her but she’s hovering a lot these days, maybe… maybe even from myself. I cannot hear myself think these days.”

You could have sworn his cheeks took a hint of pink as you looked at him from under your lashes. Unbeknown to you, he had grown quite fond of hearing what you were doing and who you were doing it for, your good deeds to his people never going unheard. The cakes going to orphaned children in need, bread to the beggars in the streets, when you were not willingly spending time with the servants, giving a hand where you could. He admired your dedication and kindness a little more every day, despite himself, and his lost lover’s shadow.

-Yet, you do not share that with me. We have not talked much or been in the same room for longer than a few moments since the engagement has been announced. Were you trying to avoid me?”

“I know. I feel the same way.

Over the weeks, your presence had been missing. The little things he would have loved to be doing with you. Your hand on his arm at the engagement party imprinted in his mind. He missed you. All of you. Eomer had thought himself more of a practical person, reasonable, and smart. In this case, he had thrown everything out of the window. Where his first fiancée enhanced his duties, you made up new ones. You were so different, her and you. You could not compare to her and she could not compare to you. She was gone and you were alive. So alive, he yearned for you in a way he had forgotten. You made him feel again.

His head bowed, his eyes cast down. Words were escaping him. He had thought long and hard about this relationship.

“Yes. I was trying to avoid you.”

Your anger was only growing within you. You were frustrated by his actions but could not blame him for them. When it came to Eomer, you had become blind. As soon as you had recognized it for what it was, it felt easier to smile when thinking of him even if he was not thinking of you. No matter what he would do, you knew you would forgive, for you would love him. From that first day until the last.

His voice was lower now, as one of a child being chastised.

“I was afraid.”

His steps brought him next to you, only a meter or two from where you were. Just as he lowered his voice, you softened yours.

“How could you be afraid? I am just a woman.”

His hand took yours and you released a sigh you did not know you were holding. In the back of your mind, you willed your memory to keep those moments tucked away safely. You were sure they would not happen again.

“A woman in grief. A woman I chose. A woman I can not seem to care for as she needs.”

He closed in on you, a mere breath away now, his palm a gentle reminder of his presence on the side of your face, your eyes closed for your own sake. You could not drown in him. You would not. Not when it meant heartbreak.

“Sometimes, I try not to seek you out.”

You could not look at him, but from under your lids, you could feel his breath fanning over your cheek, his head bowed to you in silent prayer. The question burned your lips.

“Why not?”

His hands were now cradling your face, your eyes forced to look at him. His brows furrowed, lips parted in quiet stillness, the way he looked at you, mercy and hurt in the eye, made your heart clench in despair.

“I am guilty of selfishness. When I am with you, I forget. I forget what she looked like and who she was. When I am with you, the ghost of her disappears and I don’t know if…”

His lips parted, as if to say something again, were an invitation you could not refuse. Pushing a little you grabbed him by his collar and kissed him with everything you had. His hands found your waist, making you pull away brutally.

-What for?

“I am sorry, my lord, I…

-The… Just now. And… I did not wish to make you forget. You loved her. Why would I wish to erase her from your memories? She’s a part of you. But, I am selfish too, and…”

You took a deep breath. The feelings you had wanted to snuff out were too strong now. They had to be faced and felt.

-I promise.”

“If you are feeling the way you tell me you are, then I need to know you will be there fully when you’re with me. I… Eomer, I cannot compete with a ghost.

There had been no hesitation in his voice.

He grabbed your face in his hands, and kissed you again, slowly, with eternity in his mind.

The day of the wedding was the worst. You could not see each other all day, it had you both on edge. You were nervous beyond what you could handle, your mother feeding you sweets and Gera swiftly pushing the maids out of your room. You were sure you would suffocate.

Every day it was something new. One day it was a brush of his lips below your ear. The other, his fingers linking with yours discreetly. Another one, he pulled you into an alcove, kissing you senseless, breathless, leaving marks on the exposed skin of your neck.

Once you walked down the aisle, your father’s arm securing and anchoring you, your nerves disappeared. Your father’s teary eyes as he handed you over, almost made you cry, but Eomer’s fond looks shook you to your core. Only then did you notice that the sword he had at his side kept his hand from shaking. A genuine smile on your lips, you had covered his hands with your own, wishing to settle him. The emotion in the man had been threatening to overwhelm him. He had hold onto you for comfort as you wished he would.

The ceremony and the festivities had gone by so fast, it had felt like the blink of an eye. Your parents were dancing and seemed happier than you had seen them in a very long time. They were smiling and laughing, bickering so much, you felt happy for them too. Eomer’s hand surprised you, sneaking under the table and linking his fingers with yours. He leaned down and kissed your cheek, before kissing your lips, your hand cradling his face the cold metal of your wedding band only making it harder to stop. You were his. To love and to hold, forever. How could he have been so lucky, he would never know. But he was willing and wanted to make you understand that. Your doubts and need for reassurance, although not voiced, were clear to him, in the soft moments you shared, a hint of anxiety always taking you over. He never wanted you to doubt his love and attachment for you.

Quickly enough, the night came to an end and the moment to go back to your chambers arrived. The thought of him sharing a bed with you brought a new kind of warmth to your body. The past few days your imagination had been running wild. Not that you would own up to it in front of him. Ever.

Upon entering the room, the door closing behind you, you stepped back until you were met with the wooden surface. It was your salvation when Eomer showed himself, barefoot and naked from the waist up. You wondered if your legs were not going to give out.

In the semi-darkness, silence overcoming everything, he feared you might have swallowed your tongue. In truth, you thought you had, your breathing becoming laboured and uneven.

He called your name, as you were staring, eyes blown while looking at his chest and the expanse of his shoulders, the grave notes in his voice only eliciting more heat to bloom in your abdomen. You bit your lips, not hearing him until he grabbed your shoulders.

“Hm?”

He chuckled, his knuckles caressing the side of your jaw, goosebumps left in his path. Your hands were clasped behind your back, not knowing what to do nor how to do it. Unease took hold of you where there had been only anticipation before. Eomer noticed. He stepped back, looking at you with hunger. He swallowed discreetly. You looked magnificent. His own chest was raising and falling rapidly, the adrenaline in his veins thining his patience to a thread. It made you feel desired and loved more than you could fathom.

“My love, what is the matter?”

“I-… I’ve never been with…a man before…”

You sighed, the endearment on his lips only making it harder to speak.

Fearing you might take offence if he said he knew - even though he did know -, Eomer kissed your temple trying to soothe you. His smile mirrored your own, as his hand slid behind your back, bringing you closer to him. His eyes kept looking into your own.

“I will show you if you wish.”

His lips a mere whisper away from your own, you only nodded. The span of his hands covered your hips as he kissed you. You could feel the laces of your dress coming undone thanks to his handy work, tender kisses caressing the length of your throat, and Eomer holding you against him in a gentle grip. Once the pool of cloth at your feet, your light under-dress was the only barrier between him and you. His kisses were growing heavier with every passing minute, the gentle hold he had turning into him trying to melt his body with yours. Without a word he hoisted you up in his arms, carrying you towards the bed. As he laid you down, your eyes went to the shadows of the fire on the wall before coming back to Eomer, his hair undone, tickling your bare shoulder in the dark. The space above his collarbone, the bridge of his nose, his fingers against your throat, everything illuminated by the feverish light.

Before he looked, his lips against your own he quietly asked “Is this alright…wife?”

Before you could dwell on it, he claimed your mouth for his own, his chest to yours. Your fingers found themselves in his hair, earning a grunt from him, making your core clench and your hand stop. He smirked at that as if he knew what had happened. His palm pulled up your last garment until the birth of your hips, almost revealing yourself to him.

A “Yes” escaped your tongue before you could keep it against the roof of your mouth. After all why would you?

The sweet nothing in his mouth made you whimper out of nowhere.

He helped you out of your dress, leaving the soft caress of his palms up and down your chest, the planes of his hands down your stomach and your back, open-mouthed kisses on your breasts leaving you arching into him, struggling to breathe and how he could be everywhere all at once you would never know, but you would not have stopped it for the world. His mouth trailed down your stomach, always looking at you, always making sure you were alright, just the right amount of overwhelming from him. When he reached the apex of your thighs, you noticed his bare ass in the flickering light of the fire. You swore under your breath. It only made him laugh against you.

“See something you like, princess?”

An idea came to you.

-Hmm?”

“Queen.

You propped yourself onto your elbows, looking him dead in the eye.

-Indeed… then I should treat you as such, should I not?”

“I am not a princess.

His mischievous eyes were new to you. You did not mind them one bit.

You moaned loudly when his tongue flattened against your clitoris. His eyes narrowed and he kept on going, a thirsty man finding a source to drink from. Your body arched of its own accord, full cries escaping you. Something deep in your belly was threatening to snap when he stopped. Concern was etched on his face, his lips gleaming in the dim light as he reached for your face. You shivered at the sight.

“I am alright, husband.”

You nestled your face in his palm, kissing the calloused fingers one by one.

“What about you?”

His body settled next to yours, and you could feel him against your thigh as you turned. Your mouth ran dry at the thought of him inside you.

“I am content.”

He pushed a hair out of your face, feeling the heat of your breath against his nose. What a sight you were. Pupils blown, lips swollen by his ministrations, your skin reacting to the harsh touch of his beard, a path down your body he started following with his fingers down and down again between your thighs. As he met your core, you held onto his shoulder, whimpering again, biting your lip in a silent plea for pleasure. Despite it all, you managed to utter a question.

“Only content?”

His head in the crook of your neck, you felt him stop, now looking straight at you with an adoration you were sure you could not grow tired of. You felt his fingers as he entered you. One, then the other. The soft burn of the stretch kept you from saying anything, your nails digging into his back, his hair now hovering above you, kisses raining on you. He did not answer you, only moving his fingers back and forth until you could not feel the burn of them anymore. He had you rocking your hips onto his hand, filthy sounds surrounding you, the thought of ever leaving this room having left you entirely, drunk on him and only him. Only then did he answer.

“I could not be happier than in your arms.”

“Tonight is not about me. But if you ask…” half a smile crossed his features, as you were marvelling at him, sweating and hungry for more. You never thought anyone could look at you with such reverence in their eyes.

Your heart clenched. Your hips stilled between his hands before he pulled your legs apart.

“If any of this hurts you, please tell me.”

As he pulled himself out, you could feel it down your thighs. It made you hungry for more, somehow. The emptiness he had left behind was soon replaced by the warmth of the sheets on you, his arm sneaking around your waist. He pulled you to him, your head resting on his chest, eyes weary and tired. He did not say a word, the pad of his thumb tracing the column of your spine in lazy strokes and you could hear his heart under you ever so erratic becoming soft and in rhythm with yours. Never could you have imagined this to happen to you. It was nothing short of a miracle, that he found you and you him. You let yourself bask in it for a little while, the shadows of the room luring you into a daydream you longed for deep in your soul.

He laid himself on top of you, his weight never suffocating you, his eyes ever so inquisitive. You nodded slowly, fingers weaving in his hair making him close his eyelids under your care. He placed himself between your legs, your folds welcoming him in a warm embrace. As he pushed into you, a tear escaped you, a dull pain at the pit of your stomach appearing. It stopped with the movement of his hips against yours, ever so gentle, his irises never leaving your face, forehead against yours, before leaving blazed kisses on your skin. Something feral woke up deep inside you, your hand clawing at his back, enticing him to keep going. His groans and moans were echoing in your chest, when he bit down on your shoulder with a swift bite, drawing blood to the surface. The heel of his hand was gripping tightly your ass, moving your legs until they were locked at the ankle behind his back. You felt a renewal of pleasure as he moved your legs higher, visibly impossible for him to stop. His hips were sure to leave bruises on your own. Soon after, you met your end, in a blinding white light, clenching around him. Then he could not stop himself from rutting into you, leaving his seed deep inside you.

“Do you want a boy or a girl?”

The question was asked as if in pleading, praying the bubble you were in would not burst with its utterance. Eomer merely smiled, reassuring you. He grabbed your fingers, kissing your knuckles one after the other in a tender gesture.

“Both.”

His cheeky grin made you smile despite yourself. Your eyebrows rose of their own accord, not able to hide your surprise. Amused by his newly found confidence, you laughed and kissed him deeply, weaving your hand with his. When you tried to pull back, his teeth grazed your bottom lip, and a shiver ran down your spine, eyes wide open. The warmth you felt before, came again. You pulled yourself up and as you were laying on top of him, kissed him as deeply as you could. He did not stop you, his hands on your hips again, where you could feel the friction leaving him hard again. The power you had over him was so obvious. It would have been a crime not to use it to your advantage.

On instinct, a hand to the headboard to support yourself, you dragged your core up the length of him never looking away from his eyes. This new side of you was a pleasant surprise he was delighted to discover. A grunt and an insult passed his lips as the movement dragged down, before starting again, and again, and again. Seeing him willingly relent his control into your hands did things to you, you never thought yourself capable of. Abruptly, his grip on your hips tightened in a desperate gesture to stop your actions.

-…inside me.”

“As much as this is pleasant, I’d rather be…

It had rolled off your tongue so easily. Sultry tone and all. Eomer wondered how he would cope if you were to disappear from his life, taking all you were away from him. The answer never came as he snapped back to you, guiding you down on him. A soft whimper escaped your lips, your back arching into his skillful hands, while he kept on guiding you, the movement of your hips made him jerk upwards deeper into you. Making you cry out in pleasure was his new favourite thing to do, he believed it to his very core. The little sighs, your heaving chest, your hands clasped on his, right on the dips at your hips, the full-out cries, the whimpers, the way you felt as you desperately chased your climax, everything turned him on more and more with each passing minute. The worst part was the way you looked at him, with only desire dilating your pupils, adoration in your every movement when he pulled you down for a sloppy, messy, heated kiss. Forehead against his, your hips moving on instinct, the hot breaths shared between you, all of it turning feverish upon reaching the high you were seeking, before it all snapped, a heat leaking into you as he pushed deeper than before.

You stayed there, relieved, shivering in pleasure. He was still, inside of you, not willing to let you go just yet.

“Sleep now. We have all the time in the world, wife.”

You did not even bother to meet his eyes, as yours were already closing.

“No. I want to be pregnant. Now.”

Eomer laughed and it shook your whole body. Barely registering his kiss on your temple, you fell asleep as he had asked you to, in his arms, protected and content.

Next and last part

[asphodelles]

post work stress doodle that sorta turned into a lighting study? i miss inquisition

bonus:

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The squad of all time has arrived on scene.

[paintpanic]

Kirbtober Day 30: Soul