Fic: Comfortable ch 10
Title: Comfortable
Author: Gwaelinn
Beta: Elledansgirl
Genre: FPH
Characters: Gamling, Éomer, OFC, Lothiriel
Rating: NC-17
Timeline: Third age-War of the Ring
Setting: Rohan
Warnings: heartache
Summary: Éomer was a simple man before the War. Now Théoden King is dead and Éomer has new responsibilities. Unfortunately blinded by grief and a sense of duty he hurts those closest to him as he accepts his role of King of Rohan.
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and locations are the sole property of Professor Tolkien’s Estate save those (and there are several here) I have added from my own imagining. This is written only for pleasure and I gain no profit for my efforts.
Author’s notes: Okay, after reading “What if” stories about Éomer having a relationship before the war and then sending poor Gamling to tell the girl he was marrying Lothiriel, I felt bad for our handsome, loyal Rider so…Sorry to the Éomer lovers out there-this does not make Éomer very loveable and Gamling gets the spoils!
I Love feedback!! Please feed the muses
~~
Chapter 10 He’s Not Here!
Eoswith sat on the worn couch with her cup of tea and listened to the howling wind. There was a storm brewing. Again today, a Rider came to inquire about Gamling. Why the King would not believe her that the former Captain was not there and she could not be certain of his location was beside her. Granted, she did not mention he planned to visit his sister. After all, who’s to say he did? She sighed. Gamling could be anywhere and at the moment, she wished he was with her, curled before the fire. The couch was far less comfortable when the Captain was not around. It was thoughts like that that made her wonder about his trip. It sounded like he planned it before the whole thing with Éomer erupted. Perhaps his trip was not to escape the King, but rather her. The older man had been spending a lot of time with her, tending to the farm. Perhaps he had begun to feel uncomfortable; she did cling to him. Perhaps he just needed to get away but did not wish to hurt her.
“That’s it, isn’t it,” she said to the empty room. She stood and stoked the fire. “I scared him away. Clung to him like a child needing a protector.” She snorted and plopped back down.
She knew it was not the case at least, she hoped it was not. She never begged him to stay. It was an open invitation. He chose to stay of his own volition. She enjoyed his company and got the impression it was mutually agreeable.
“Gamling would not have come around if he did not want to and you know it,” she stated aloud. “Yes, I needed consoling at first, but I am over him; Éomer was not true love and it never would have been. Béma did me a favor…” she glanced up at the ceiling and added, “could have been a little nicer about it though.” She smiled and took a sip of tea. “Oh Gamling. I miss you. Not because I cannot stand to be along or because I am afraid. I miss you because my heart belongs to you; I understand that now. Please come home; I need to know how you feel. ” She sighed. “Look at me! Talking to myself again.”
She snuggled into the cushions and watched the dying fire. She closed her eyes and thought of Gamling. His tall lean body, the way his muscles moved under the skin when he chopped wood or mended a fence. His dark strawberry blond hair shone like burnish copper in the firelight and his hazel eyes always twinkled when he smiled at her.
Little did the woman know that the only time Gamling’s eyes shown with any joy now a-days was when he was with her. She dreamt of him that night; she woke with a gasp and a strong need. She left the couch and got a cool drink of water. She stoked the fire back to life and tried to ignore the thrum of her core. She had not been so aroused by a simple dream in a very long time. Perhaps in the very early infatuation stages of her relationship with Éomer, she would feel this way when he was on patrol, but the feeling would pass come the dawn, much like Éomer’s passion. Éoswith suddenly thought of Lothíriel. She found herself hoping that the war might have tamed Éomer’s passion. She would hate to think that the Princess as doomed to a physical relationship like the one she and Éomer had shared. Perhaps it is different with true love; she hoped so. Perhaps one day she would know.
Éoswith retied to her bed. She closed her eyes and a vision of Gamling danced in her head. Her soul cried out and her body ached for him. “Please dear Béma, let him come back to me,” she whispered into the darkness, her hand stealing beneath the covers in a vain attempt to relieve the tension between her legs.
Moring found her still wanting but rested. In her dreams, Gamling had been there, holding her, kissing her, loving her so tenderly. Her heart began to race. She stretched and smiled at the new day. The moon’s cycle was nearly complete and the handsome man should be returning. At first, Éoswith had her doubts but as the days passed, she came to understand what Gamling meant about taking time for one’s self, time to think. He was giving her a chance to take back control of her life. Now that she had, she realized that she wanted him in her life. She was comfortable with the thought of being with him-not out of need but out of love. Yes, when he came back, they would talk.
The storm the night before left the world smelling clean and the sun shining brightly. Éoswith hummed as she fed the hogs and checked on the littler. They were all healthy and a good size. No runts this time. When she heard a horse approach, her heart fluttered with excitement. It was soon crushed by the deep voice calling to her.
“Mistress? Are you home?”
‘Poor Ceorl,’ Eoswith thought, ‘having to come here every few days to see if Gamling was about!’ Actually, it was starting to get on her nerves. She had it in her mind to tell the Rider that and demand that Éomer leave her be. Either that or she was going to tell him that Gamling was still in bed! HA! That would stun the King! The young woman smiled and left the barn. Despite her inner desire, she could not be cross with the old Rider. It was not his fault; he was a pawn like everyone else.
“He is not here,” she said by way of greeting.
“I know. Have you any idea of when he will return. Éomer King desperately needs to speak with him. It seems to be a matter of great importance and disquiet.”
“Then the King should not have dismissed his Captain in the first place; then he would know his whereabouts!” She had not meant to say it, but the thought that Gamling was causing the Éomer disquiet after everything the King had done irked her beyond telling. She stood with her hands on her hips.
“Aye, I know. But if you do hear from the Captain, please, ask him to see Éomer immediately.”
Éoswith nodded and watched the Rider gallop down the road, most likely to the outpost to give them the same message. It would not surprise her one bit if Éomer stationed a guard at her fence to wait for the poor man. She had heard it said that although Éomer was coming around, he was still troubled by morose despite his upcoming nuptials.
“Well,” she said heading back to the house. “That is not my problem.” She had hogs to feed and a root cellar to inventory. She did not have time to concern herself with Éomer; that was now Lothíriel’s job. Éoswith smirked. ‘Poor girl.’
Come mid afternoon, Éoswith released the hogs into the pen to enjoy a roll in the dirt. She cleaned the barn and lay fresh straw in the pens and stalls. It was a beautiful day and her heart was light. Life was almost back to normal for her. She was so engrossed in tending the hogs she did not notice the approach of another Rider.
“Like I never left.”
The young woman let out a startled yip and spun. “Gamling, you came back!”
Éoswith dropped the slop bucket and rushed from the pen, greeting the older man with a warm hug. She thought only to greet a friend and was therefore surprised when the tall man enveloped her in a bear hug, pulling her close and burying his head in the crook of her neck. She returned the embrace, relishing the feelings it brought forth. When Gamling finally released her and stepped back a bit, he smiled down at her.
“Of course I did. Miss me?”
“Very much so,” she said with a shy smile, her cheeks slightly pink.
Gamling reached out and trailed a finger along the colored flesh. The man looked long a deep into Éoswith’s rich blue eyes; he saw something that made his smile grow, the corner of his eyes crinkling.
Feeling the intensity of his gaze, Éoswith looked away and put another step between them. “I would be remiss if I did not tell you most promptly that Éomer has been seeking you,” she said, trying to control her racing emotions. “Thrice he sent a Rider believing you ‘hid’ here. I told them you were gone and that I did not know where to find you or when you might return. This morn, Ceorl said it was an important matter and you should see the King immediately.”
Gamling chuckled softly at her tenacity. “I am not surprised; you should have told where I was so he would leave you in peace. I am sorry you were bothered.” Gamling leaned against the fence as Éoswith picked up the bucket and returned to feeding the hogs.
The woman smiled. “And bother you instead? You wanted time away and you deserved it. Anyway, if Éomer really wanted to find you, I suspect he could have. From what I have heard, he seems to be fairing better, though I have not seen him. I suspect he wishes to ask you back-hopefully with much groveling!” Éoswith set the empty slop bucket at the gate as she closed the pen.
Gamling did not think that was entirely the case, especially if the King had found the papers he left. The Éomer could wait. For now, he only wished to spend time with Éoswith and talk with her, and if lucky maybe hold her. He took in the vision of the young woman standing in the sun. She was very pleasantly curvy with a nice bit of cushioning though she was stronger than she appeared. Her long hair was braided but soft wisps framed her dirt smudged face. Bright eyes regarded him and he felt very much at home. Falling into step next to her, he changed the subject, “Is that soup I smell?”
Éoswith grinned. “Looking to be invited to supper?”
“Yes,” Gamling said with a chuckled.
“Then go wash up. I will see what I can scrounge.” She shooed him towards the barn good naturedly.
The tall man headed off to the barn with a spring in his step. Whatever weariness he had from the long journey vanished and he felt better than he had in some time.
Author: Gwaelinn
Beta: Elledansgirl
Genre: FPH
Characters: Gamling, Éomer, OFC, Lothiriel
Rating: NC-17
Timeline: Third age-War of the Ring
Setting: Rohan
Warnings: heartache
Summary: Éomer was a simple man before the War. Now Théoden King is dead and Éomer has new responsibilities. Unfortunately blinded by grief and a sense of duty he hurts those closest to him as he accepts his role of King of Rohan.
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and locations are the sole property of Professor Tolkien’s Estate save those (and there are several here) I have added from my own imagining. This is written only for pleasure and I gain no profit for my efforts.
Author’s notes: Okay, after reading “What if” stories about Éomer having a relationship before the war and then sending poor Gamling to tell the girl he was marrying Lothiriel, I felt bad for our handsome, loyal Rider so…Sorry to the Éomer lovers out there-this does not make Éomer very loveable and Gamling gets the spoils!
I Love feedback!! Please feed the muses
~~
Chapter 10 He’s Not Here!
Eoswith sat on the worn couch with her cup of tea and listened to the howling wind. There was a storm brewing. Again today, a Rider came to inquire about Gamling. Why the King would not believe her that the former Captain was not there and she could not be certain of his location was beside her. Granted, she did not mention he planned to visit his sister. After all, who’s to say he did? She sighed. Gamling could be anywhere and at the moment, she wished he was with her, curled before the fire. The couch was far less comfortable when the Captain was not around. It was thoughts like that that made her wonder about his trip. It sounded like he planned it before the whole thing with Éomer erupted. Perhaps his trip was not to escape the King, but rather her. The older man had been spending a lot of time with her, tending to the farm. Perhaps he had begun to feel uncomfortable; she did cling to him. Perhaps he just needed to get away but did not wish to hurt her.
“That’s it, isn’t it,” she said to the empty room. She stood and stoked the fire. “I scared him away. Clung to him like a child needing a protector.” She snorted and plopped back down.
She knew it was not the case at least, she hoped it was not. She never begged him to stay. It was an open invitation. He chose to stay of his own volition. She enjoyed his company and got the impression it was mutually agreeable.
“Gamling would not have come around if he did not want to and you know it,” she stated aloud. “Yes, I needed consoling at first, but I am over him; Éomer was not true love and it never would have been. Béma did me a favor…” she glanced up at the ceiling and added, “could have been a little nicer about it though.” She smiled and took a sip of tea. “Oh Gamling. I miss you. Not because I cannot stand to be along or because I am afraid. I miss you because my heart belongs to you; I understand that now. Please come home; I need to know how you feel. ” She sighed. “Look at me! Talking to myself again.”
She snuggled into the cushions and watched the dying fire. She closed her eyes and thought of Gamling. His tall lean body, the way his muscles moved under the skin when he chopped wood or mended a fence. His dark strawberry blond hair shone like burnish copper in the firelight and his hazel eyes always twinkled when he smiled at her.
Little did the woman know that the only time Gamling’s eyes shown with any joy now a-days was when he was with her. She dreamt of him that night; she woke with a gasp and a strong need. She left the couch and got a cool drink of water. She stoked the fire back to life and tried to ignore the thrum of her core. She had not been so aroused by a simple dream in a very long time. Perhaps in the very early infatuation stages of her relationship with Éomer, she would feel this way when he was on patrol, but the feeling would pass come the dawn, much like Éomer’s passion. Éoswith suddenly thought of Lothíriel. She found herself hoping that the war might have tamed Éomer’s passion. She would hate to think that the Princess as doomed to a physical relationship like the one she and Éomer had shared. Perhaps it is different with true love; she hoped so. Perhaps one day she would know.
Éoswith retied to her bed. She closed her eyes and a vision of Gamling danced in her head. Her soul cried out and her body ached for him. “Please dear Béma, let him come back to me,” she whispered into the darkness, her hand stealing beneath the covers in a vain attempt to relieve the tension between her legs.
Moring found her still wanting but rested. In her dreams, Gamling had been there, holding her, kissing her, loving her so tenderly. Her heart began to race. She stretched and smiled at the new day. The moon’s cycle was nearly complete and the handsome man should be returning. At first, Éoswith had her doubts but as the days passed, she came to understand what Gamling meant about taking time for one’s self, time to think. He was giving her a chance to take back control of her life. Now that she had, she realized that she wanted him in her life. She was comfortable with the thought of being with him-not out of need but out of love. Yes, when he came back, they would talk.
The storm the night before left the world smelling clean and the sun shining brightly. Éoswith hummed as she fed the hogs and checked on the littler. They were all healthy and a good size. No runts this time. When she heard a horse approach, her heart fluttered with excitement. It was soon crushed by the deep voice calling to her.
“Mistress? Are you home?”
‘Poor Ceorl,’ Eoswith thought, ‘having to come here every few days to see if Gamling was about!’ Actually, it was starting to get on her nerves. She had it in her mind to tell the Rider that and demand that Éomer leave her be. Either that or she was going to tell him that Gamling was still in bed! HA! That would stun the King! The young woman smiled and left the barn. Despite her inner desire, she could not be cross with the old Rider. It was not his fault; he was a pawn like everyone else.
“He is not here,” she said by way of greeting.
“I know. Have you any idea of when he will return. Éomer King desperately needs to speak with him. It seems to be a matter of great importance and disquiet.”
“Then the King should not have dismissed his Captain in the first place; then he would know his whereabouts!” She had not meant to say it, but the thought that Gamling was causing the Éomer disquiet after everything the King had done irked her beyond telling. She stood with her hands on her hips.
“Aye, I know. But if you do hear from the Captain, please, ask him to see Éomer immediately.”
Éoswith nodded and watched the Rider gallop down the road, most likely to the outpost to give them the same message. It would not surprise her one bit if Éomer stationed a guard at her fence to wait for the poor man. She had heard it said that although Éomer was coming around, he was still troubled by morose despite his upcoming nuptials.
“Well,” she said heading back to the house. “That is not my problem.” She had hogs to feed and a root cellar to inventory. She did not have time to concern herself with Éomer; that was now Lothíriel’s job. Éoswith smirked. ‘Poor girl.’
Come mid afternoon, Éoswith released the hogs into the pen to enjoy a roll in the dirt. She cleaned the barn and lay fresh straw in the pens and stalls. It was a beautiful day and her heart was light. Life was almost back to normal for her. She was so engrossed in tending the hogs she did not notice the approach of another Rider.
“Like I never left.”
The young woman let out a startled yip and spun. “Gamling, you came back!”
Éoswith dropped the slop bucket and rushed from the pen, greeting the older man with a warm hug. She thought only to greet a friend and was therefore surprised when the tall man enveloped her in a bear hug, pulling her close and burying his head in the crook of her neck. She returned the embrace, relishing the feelings it brought forth. When Gamling finally released her and stepped back a bit, he smiled down at her.
“Of course I did. Miss me?”
“Very much so,” she said with a shy smile, her cheeks slightly pink.
Gamling reached out and trailed a finger along the colored flesh. The man looked long a deep into Éoswith’s rich blue eyes; he saw something that made his smile grow, the corner of his eyes crinkling.
Feeling the intensity of his gaze, Éoswith looked away and put another step between them. “I would be remiss if I did not tell you most promptly that Éomer has been seeking you,” she said, trying to control her racing emotions. “Thrice he sent a Rider believing you ‘hid’ here. I told them you were gone and that I did not know where to find you or when you might return. This morn, Ceorl said it was an important matter and you should see the King immediately.”
Gamling chuckled softly at her tenacity. “I am not surprised; you should have told where I was so he would leave you in peace. I am sorry you were bothered.” Gamling leaned against the fence as Éoswith picked up the bucket and returned to feeding the hogs.
The woman smiled. “And bother you instead? You wanted time away and you deserved it. Anyway, if Éomer really wanted to find you, I suspect he could have. From what I have heard, he seems to be fairing better, though I have not seen him. I suspect he wishes to ask you back-hopefully with much groveling!” Éoswith set the empty slop bucket at the gate as she closed the pen.
Gamling did not think that was entirely the case, especially if the King had found the papers he left. The Éomer could wait. For now, he only wished to spend time with Éoswith and talk with her, and if lucky maybe hold her. He took in the vision of the young woman standing in the sun. She was very pleasantly curvy with a nice bit of cushioning though she was stronger than she appeared. Her long hair was braided but soft wisps framed her dirt smudged face. Bright eyes regarded him and he felt very much at home. Falling into step next to her, he changed the subject, “Is that soup I smell?”
Éoswith grinned. “Looking to be invited to supper?”
“Yes,” Gamling said with a chuckled.
“Then go wash up. I will see what I can scrounge.” She shooed him towards the barn good naturedly.
The tall man headed off to the barn with a spring in his step. Whatever weariness he had from the long journey vanished and he felt better than he had in some time.