Disclaimer: Wakabe Writing Firm doesn't own Lord of the Rings
A/N: Natsumi is a sap. Sap, sap, sap, sap. And when she went through some of her old unused pieces, she found a note saying that she needed to do a fic for Eomer and Lothiriel. And, because trying to write three updates at once is exhausting, she decided to take a break and do this. Hope you enjoy, and please review.- Isuzu (Ghost Secretary, Wakabe Writing Firm)
"You're so soft," Eomer wondered aloud, eyes unusually wide and wonder filled as he held his wife's hand, alone in the privacy of his- their roms, her hair freed from its elaborate twists and turns that made up her elegant bun at the wedding.
He mentally berated himself for saying such a stupid thing, so obvious and simple that it must make him look like a fool. But she blushes so beautifully at his words, the gentle pink spreading so it lightly dusts the gentle slope of her nose and bridges the brighter pink pools of her cheeks together. Her head ducks down shyly, her long locks falling down to rest against the curve of her breasts, the dark strands contrasting with the gentle whiteness of her gown.
And Eomer knows that he will say whatever necessary to see that smile blossom on her face again.
The portrait of her husband-to-be was a poor substitute for the man in front of her. It did nothing to tell Lothiriel of the slight coloring in his tanned cheeks when she disembarked from her carriage, nor how his eyes, a brilliant green no paint could replicate lit up. There was no way for simple pen and paper could capture his blond hair flying freely around him in the high wind that always sang in his homeland. And the portrait most definately did not prepare her for the jolt of something that came through her when he raised her hand to his lips.
He woke to her warmth pressed against his skin, her long black hair like a dark halo against the white of the pillow she rested her fair head upon. her eyes were still closed and there was but the slightest flush on her cheeks, accenting the darker pink her lips perfectly. She moved, face pressing into his chest, eyes fluttering and body slowly uncurling as she woke. And before Eomer could think better of it, as he watches his wife open her eyes, he swoops down for a good morning kiss.
The sleepy smile he gets in return tells him that he should wake his wife in this way more often in the future.
So yes, I am a sap. No regrets. Can't say if I'll write more, seeing as I still need to do other things, but who knows.