A/N; My suggestion would be to listen to John Mayer's "Your Body is a Wonderland" while reading this because I wrote it while listening to it. I plan to write a series of Lothíriel/Éomer short stories concerning their life and love and the various aspects of it, and this is just the first one.

Disclaimer; Yeah, right, you really think I would be writing this if I owned them? No, I would be laying by my massive pool and enjoying the life of luxury.

The rain had lulled Lothíriel into a peaceful sleep, her head propped on the pillows, as she lay stretched upon the bed. The candles still burned, their glow casting her shadow across the room and flickering occasionally. The windows of the royal chamber had been left open, allowing the warm summer breeze to float in and out of the room, caressing the Queen's hair into moving.

It was as thus that Éomer found her, his armor and clothing soaked to his bones. Nevertheless, in that one moment, watching her slumber, he found his blood warmed and his heart skip a beat. That this woman was his for the rest of his days never ceased to amaze him, and that she felt as strongly as he did would forever astonish him.

As silent as possible, he disposed of his armor in exchange for a dry nightshirt and he blew the candles out before crawling in to bed next to his wife. Lothíriel stirred as the darkness took the room, and his arms wrapped about her slender figure. She was dressed in one of his shirts, which he had come to expect since it was what she wore whenever he left on one of his tours. It evoked a fiercely protective side in him, knowing that this beautiful woman would only wear his shirt. That she missed him that much.

She turned over to face him, her lashes fluttering open to reveal sea kissed eyes. Her soft mouth opened and she reached out to touch him, her fingertips caressing the fine curve of his jaw.

"You are home.." Her words were a whisper, and almost lost in the distant sound of the rain.

"Yes, my love, I have returned to you as promised." Smiling at how sleepy she was, Éomer nuzzled his nose against hers, his hand reaching up to caress the silken curls of dark brown.

Lothíriel returned his smile and leaned forward to press her lips to his in a lazy kiss. He returned it softly, and the touch evoked feelings that he had long denied for three long weeks. Each time he prepared to leave, it became harder and harder. Two years ago, he would have laugehd at the suggestion that he would become one of those men that loved his wife so passionately that going even a few days without her touch was maddening. She set his blood boiling and made him wild with desire and love. He had known the act of love making before their marriage, but never had it left him feeling so completely whole, like he was finally fulfilled.

"Éomer," her voice was a contented purr, her gentle hand caressing the side of his neck and down his back. He could not help but growl as he felt her hand brush under his shirt and slide against the hard muscles of his chest.

"Lothí, if you continue that.."

Her eyes were closed when she grinned at his words, and she pressed closer to him, her hips pressing against his as she trailed her lips against his neck, her hands rubbing circles down his back and abdomen.

He could lose himself in her; remain in this bed for the rest of their lives. His hand was shaking some as he reached up to brush the neckline of the shirt off her shoulder, his lips eagerly taking possession of the soft flesh there.

It was always amazing to her how they could go from being so innocent to passionate in the blink of an eye. With just the gentlest touch, they found themselves igniting something that could never be stopped.

She sat up, pulling him up with her so that they faced each other. With a slight movement, she was sitting in his lap, her legs wrapping about his waist as she pressed her lips heatedly to his. Delicate fingers explored the curves of his face as his hands eagerly grasped her waist, sliding up her back and in to the endless curls of her hair.


No matter how many times she had sighed his name, each time felt like a bolt of lightening had shot down his spine.

Sliding the shirt over her head, he tossed it across the room and she giggled at the sound of glass breaking as it knocked over something. Bending his knees, he propped them up against her bared back so that she rest against his thighs. His hands began the heated exploration of her body, and as always, he was amazed at how her porcelain skin would flush at his touch.

He growled deep in his throat as she pulled off his shirt, leaving him in just his leggings. As his rough hands slid over her taunt stomach and gently cupped her breasts, she tilted her head back with a soft moan and exposed the soft column of her neck to his lips.

Lowering his legs and leaning her back upon the bed, his hands continued their path of memorizing every inch of her skin. She arched beneath him, her eyes shutting as his lips followed suit. As she gasped and squirmed, he glanced up at her, and his heart skipped a beat. Her cheeks were flushed and curls of her hair had fallen on to her face, giving her the look of a Goddess. Crawling up so that his body stretched out over hers, his hand slid under her head and cradled it as he kissed her candy lips.

Éomer kissed down her neck again, gently nipping her collarbone before moving down to kiss the swell of her breast. Lothíriel released an airy sigh that set his nerves a blaze. His lips caressed the delicate skin of her breasts, covering every inch of her skin with his touch. She whimpered, her hips arching to press to his leg to draw his attention. He grinned and proceeded to teasingly kiss lower, moving so slow that she ached.

"Éomer.. Please."

He chuckled as she parted her legs, his hand tracing the curve of her hip as he kissed her thigh. And then, he released a breath against her.

Lothíriel gasped and she gripped tightly on to the bed sheets as her mind shut down. She felt his lips and tongue, but her mind could not comprehend anything other than the intense pleasure. Warmth swept over her body in waves, pooling in her stomach, and shooting down further.

She quivered when Éomer stopped, but quickly replaced his mouth with his fingers. First one and then another, and his thumb was teasing the place that always left her short of breath.

She arched her hips as he stroked her body, and the familiar tension was building inside of her. Lothíriel's heart beat so fast she felt that it was going to simply stop. And just as her muscles began to tighten, he stopped.

"Éomer.." He couldn't help but chuckle at the pained sound of her voice. He moved back up her body, placing kisses along the soft skin until he reached her lips. The dark look in his eyes quelled any of her protests. Éomer leaned down to place a butterfly kiss over her chest, delighted as always that only he could ever be the one to cause her heartbeat so fast.

"You are far too over dressed, my King," she insisted as she forced Éomer on to his back, her hands eagerly disposing of his leggings. She placed a teasing kiss on his lower abdomen, and he swore that stars exploded in his vision.

Her hands gently massaged his thighs, working the knots out of his muscles. It was heavenly. He could feel the silk of her hair brushing over his skin as she slowly made her way back up his body, her hands massaging and a trail of kisses following. He was going to explode.

And then it stopped. She stretched out beside him, a wanton grin on her noble features as he turned on his side to look at her. "Minx," he murmured as he quickly placed himself over her.

Éomer kept himself from crushing her by bracing with his arms on either side of her, and he wanted to curse when he felt her wrap her soft legs around his waist. That would always be his undoing. Lothíriel leaned up and caught his earlobe between her teeth, and he could only whimper in response as pleasure shot through his body.

She felt his hardness drive into her, and the satisfying fullness that accompanied it. Each moment when they were fully joined, she found that she could not keep her gaze away from him, as if this connection was so soul searing that if she looked away from his intense eyes it would break. Éomer must have felt the same, for he looked in to her eyes and caressed her cheek, whispering "I love you," before he began to move.

The same tense pleasure began to build in her again and she gripped on to his shoulders as he moved in and around her.

Finally, it broke, and suddenly waves of pleasure were sweeping through her body and she could not have formed a sentence if her very life depended on it. Judging by Éomer's reaction, he felt the same way, and with heaviness, he sank in to the bed next to her.

Lothíriel cuddled up to him, her arm flung over his chest and her head resting against his shoulder. They both were heavy with fatigue, but especially him due to his journey, and she felt him press a kiss to her forehead before give in to exhaustion and sleep. However, sleep would not come to her.

The Queen sat up for awhile, leaning on her arm as she watched Éomer sleep. He was so youthful in his dreams, his face not plagued by the worries of his station. He was so peaceful. As she nuzzled her head up to him once more, and placed a kiss over his heart, she gave a silent thanks to the Valar that they had seen it fit to weave her life with his. That she would have forever to spend nights like this with him gave her more happiness than she ever thought possible. "I love you, too."

Finally, she gave in to sleep... and dreams of the man that lay beside her.


To everyone fleeing from Frances, and Florida in general, I hope everything goes better than anyone can hope for.