What: Log of a convo that happened not long after the previous one, in which Eamyre and Gramsael discuss love, and other things.
When: see above! (this was written the day after the previous, I believe)
Gramsael has not slept.
He's too busy guarding his woman.
Eamyre is sleeping all cuddled up in his arms.
He's watching her, bags under his eyes. He hadn't slept, he'd been watching her.
Eamyre awakens with Gramsael's name on her lips. It's a question, which she soon answers for herself by cuddling in against him and reaching for him, smelling him and knowing he is there, that it's him, that she doesn't need to be afraid. Still, she trembles a bit, and in the back of her mind - behind the voice telling her how wonderful it was to awaken like this - was a voice telling her she would never get over that, that she would wake up every morning trembling, and afraid. It made her sigh.
'I am here,' He reassures her. It seems like that's all he's been doing, since finding her again - reassuring her, holding her. Would he be able to do more, ever?
She re-arranges herself in his arms so that she can look at him, and notices the bags under his eyes with a frown, 'When did you last sleep?' she asks, her voice filled with concern.
'Three days ago,' He replies tiredly, but gives her a very strong smile.
'Gramsael, that will not do...' she sighs, and tips his head so that she can kiss his forehead, 'You must sleep, you will make yourself sick otherwise, and then you will hate it, and be grumpy. And we cannot have that, yes?' she winks at him.
'My sister likes it when I am grumpy - she can tease me,' He replies, laughing, and cupping her cheek. There's so much emotion in his eyes, that he can't quite say.
'I missed that laughter,' she whispers, gazing into his eyes. She can see all the emotion written there, and it starts her trembling again. She's more than a little overwhelmed. She leans her face a bit against his hand, 'I have ignored what you do to me, and for me, far longer than I ever should have.' she adds, in a whisper.
He gazes into her eyes, cupping her face, 'what is it, I do to you?'
'I was ready to give up, you must know that.' she whispers, 'I was ready to fall on my own blade. I felt numb, and dead, and broken beyond repair, and tired. But your touch...' she shakes her head, 'I do not understand it, but it brings fire. It reminds me I am alive.'
'You have been my freond for as long as I can remember,' He replies. His hand is rough and calloused from long years holding a sword and tending to horses, 'No woman could compare to you.'
'There is no one else? Not a single other woman in the Mark that could make you happy?' she says. It is a soft plea, and there is so much conflict in her eyes. She loved him, yes, and she could no longer hide from that. Haladreth had been right. Laerion had been right. But still, she could give him nothing. He deserved more!
'Nay. Not a single woman in the mark. Nor Gondor, nor any land where Men might walk.'
'I will not be good for you,' she whispers, shaking her head, 'I have nothing to give you, and I am not sure.. I am not sure, I can be who I was. I am not sure if I will ever stop being afraid.' her eyes are threatening to start up a new batch of tears, and she wills herself not to cry again, as she continues in a lower whisper, 'I am not even sure I can have children, anymore'
That clenches something within his heart, as though it is breaking, or being wrent in half, 'I will not lie - I want children - but I love you and it matters not to me if you have nothing to give - because you have yourself to give.'
'But it SHOULD matter that I still fear. That I am still broken. Gramsael, min friend, min leof, that is no life for you. Always having to treat me like some delicate thing. I know. I know, there will be times - have already been times - when you wished you could just HAVE me.'
'I love you.' He says that as though that explains everything, and kisses the top of her head. 'Is that not enough?'
'How can you possibly love me?' she says, on a long sigh, and rests her head on his shoulder, 'I have put you through so very much..'
'Why should that matter?' He shakes his head, clearly not understanding. She was Eamyre, his friend, and he loved her.
She wrinkles her brow, and shakes her head, lifting it off his shoulder to cup his face and look into his eyes. Willing herself to read all the emotions there, and not flinch away from them. She did not understand this man, at all. His love for her was the most confusing thing she had ever experienced, and remained so. But would it be that terrible, to accept it? 'Your mind is set?' she finally asks him, softly.
'My mind was set long ago, and nothing has changed it. I dare say nothing ever will. I have been with other women, as you have, I have loved other women, but they were not you.'
'It might be terrible,' she warns, still refusing to allow herself to look away from him. 'I might very well make you miserable, and become like a nagging old bitty who smacks you with the frying pan every night for drinking. I might age horribly, I might never recover from all this and forever be a scared little doe. Will you regret it?'
He looks thoughtful for a moment. Considering. In a way, she was right - parts of him would be miserable. But in the end, 'In the end, it would be worth it to me.'
She leans back on her haunches and works a hand up into her hair, rubbing at her temple and still gazing at him. 'Tell me what you would want,' she finally says, a bit defeated, 'From a weof. Keeping in mind I am on a leave of absence only, and am still a Rider.'
He nods his head, knowing what she meant, and knowing he had to tell her the truth, 'Children. A son, and perhaps a daughter. A home to defend and raise them in. And horses..lots of horses.'
'It is not that I do not want them.. children, I mean.' she says, with a bit of pain in her voice that she really can't hide, 'At first, I was surprised. It had not been planned. But the Lady Haladreth asked me 'The man that puts light in your eyes, is it his?' and I had to say yes, and she asked me what I would do, and ... it was your child, and I wanted it. I wanted it, Gram, I did. I would try, at least. For another. I simply do not know if my body...' she trails off, completely unsure how to describe it, and completely unsure she should be talking about it anyway.
His face scrunches up, the bags under his eyes darkening. He hadn't been expecting that to hurt so, even if he'd known about it. His voice is choked up, 'You wanted him?'
'Bema, Gramsael! Of COURSE I wanted him!' she cries, tears now rolling freely down her cheeks, 'I wanted him, so much... That sometimes, I still secretly wish we are wrong, and that he is still in here.' she rubs her stomach, 'Even though I know that is foolish. I was beyond broken... it was like he was you, and I was losing you..'
'Nay! You have not lost me! I am here I am here.' His voice breaks a little, and he crushes her into a hug.
She hugs him right back, curling in against him and rocking him in her arms, back and forth, because she knows this is breaking him, too. 'You have always been here,' she says, 'And I have been so foolish, going from woman to woman, and loving none of them in the process, because always, I have loved you. And I did not even KNOW it.' She wants to kick herself for that. She really, really does.
'You loved none of them?' He sounds surprised - he has, in a way, loved most of the women he's been with. Eamyre of course, and Laeriel, and Zhibal. His first experience, he preferred not to count, and there was another woman, who was a friend. He felt, momentarily, like a cad - that was a lot of women.
'There have not been that many.. and I cared for them, especially Ceowyn. But Nay, it was a kind of love, but never love, the way we would use it.' she shakes her head. 'I should probably have realised, at some point. Min Maeder did, I know. She asked me why we had not married, once.'
'And min sister...Lady Melethril seemed rather certain too. It is a wonder, I did not see it before - I would have been more persistant.'
'I had a feeling, after the second time, with you.' she admits, 'But I was scared, and confused by it. I thought then, that one could only like one, or the other.'
'One, than the other?' He looked at her puzzled.
'I thought that because I fancied women, I was not allowed to fancy men.' she says, more to the point.'We already knew I fancied women. That I enjoyed your company - especially that I enjoyed your bed - was beyond confusing, because of this.'
'Oh.' He binks his eyes, then blurts out, 'Does this mean Laeriel could join us at some point?'
She eyes him, 'I want you to myself, for a while.' Then she realises what she just said, and smiles, genuinely. 'Yes, I do.'
He bursts into a boyish grin, 'You want me to yourself? Me? Just me? You want me?!'
'I see no point in hiding from it anymore.' she nods, 'Yes, damn it, I want you. I may be scared of it, still, but I want you anyway.' she nods her head, as if that's her final decision on it. Then she smiles at him, softly. 'Listen, and I will tell you the day I think I must have first fallen for you.'
He looks at her, listening expectently. The crushing of his chest lightens, just a little.
She re-arranges herself a bit so that she can snuggle back against him and curl his arms around her. She has discovered that she likes that, very much. Then she nods, and begins, 'When I first arrived here, I came upon a Huntress named Haladreth. She noticed immediately, the amount of ale I was drinking to get to sleep at night.' she sounds ashamed, 'It was not healthy, I admit. So she took me to the woods, and taught me to find a place of peace, to help me sleep. The most peaceful moment in my life..'
His arms loop around her waist, resting there protectively and lovingly. He listens, wondering about this huntress.
She cuddles in against him, and continues, 'It was when I was 10 years old. The Eored was getting ready to ride, and min faeder and broders were there, all in their shining armor. But that is not the reason the day is important. It was also the day that I realised that you, Gramsael, were a man. Bema, but you were glorious that day,' she breathes, softly, still a bit enraptured, 'In the cloak I made - I never would have admitted that, and all your armor. I must have loved you, even then. I know I worshiped you, and wanted nothing so much as to be like you, someday.'
'She listened to the way I spoke of you and instantly told me that I loved you.' she chuckles, remembering, 'I argued with her. But she was right.'
He looks fascinated, then blinks, 'You made that cloak? You said your maeder made it...' His lips turn up, slightly, 'I still have it. Ragged and full of holes from orc swords, with my blood and the blood of our countrymen, but I still have it.'
'Of course I said that,' she says with a bit of wonder in her voice that he'd kept it all this time, 'I was a shieldmaiden in training! I was to ride horses, and swing a sword, and shout for Ale at the tavern, and come home late. Not sew things, and be all girlish and silly.' she grins.
'I know how to sew,' he replies, grinning at her.
'And I soon learned that anyone wearing armor aught to, yes. If you are caught in the wild and need to patch your armor, no one else is going to do it for you.' she chuckles, 'But at 10, I knew only the one side of life, and not the other.'
He smiles, nodding his head, 'Your fire is one of the many reasons I was and am drawn to you.'
Her face falls a bit, 'What if I do not have it, anymore?'
'Kiss me.' It's an order.
She turns around, to face him, and raises an eyebrow.
She wrinkles her brow, then nods, slowly, and leans in closer. She's already starting to tremble a bit, but when your man orders you to kiss him, you do it! So she presses her hand against his cheek and caresses there, to steady herself, and then brushes her lips against his. She can already feel it, the fire she thought she was missing. She shudders with pleasure, and closes her eyes, and brushes her lips again, then presses. Locking her lips with his in the most firey kiss she can even remember.
The first brushing sent his stomach into twirls, and the second tied it in knots - maybe it was there...but then she kisses him and his relief is palpable. He wraps his arms around her, returning the kiss with all the fire a man of Rohan possesses.
She had no idea kissing felt this good. She wraps her arms around him, one hand instantly curling in against his neck, another rubbing at his back, and just lets herself get completely, utterly lost in the fire, and the love. The burning was spreading through her like warmth after a long winter.
Or sun after a year of rain. That's what it felt like to Gramsael. Always the happy face, always the good humour, but the past year had taken it's toll on him, and maybe, just maybe, things would be all right. SHE was kissing him, she was kissing him and not holding back - and neither did he.
She was kissing him, and not holding back, and he was kissing her, nearly bruisingly hard, and she was not afraid. Alright, no, there was a tiny twinge of fear there, but she was so very going to ignore it. In fact, she fought that by putting more fire, and more passion into the kiss, pulling his lip into her mouth and sucking it, hands kneading at his neck, and his back. She wanted him, and she needed him, and she loved him, and she was for once alright with this.
One of his hands trailed and caressed at the back of her neck, scritching the hair there, as her actions brought a delicious moan from his throat. He rubbed her back, reassuring, and wanting, and needing.
She wraps her legs around him, too, squeezing a bit. The delicious moan of his makes her groan against his mouth and work all the harder at his lip, only letting it go to trail fire down his cheek and over to his jawline, nipping and kissing and sucking, there. She needed this, Bema, but she needed this. Little tears of joy are clinging to her eyelashes over the fact that she needed this and she's taking this, and it's allowed!
[After this, not much more happened. Honestly. They realise it's too soon after all the events and end up cuddling eachother. <3 ]