She has almost never seen him wordless. She has certainly never seen him like this, panting and flushed and overwhelmed by need. And need for her, for her hands, for what she can do...

Eowyn bends down and kisses him--lightly, for he is short of breath as it is--even as her fingers find a more firm grip and begin to work at him in earnest. It does not take her long to get the hang of it, to feel how the satin-skin moves over the hardness underneath, to feel the rhythm his hips want to move in. "I love you," she whispers, amazed, and flushed herself from awareness of what they are doing.