Eleanor became lost in the stitches soon. She was enveloped in her work, making sure each little motion was perfect. She couldn't have the ribbon fraying or coming undone. That would embarrass her beyond belief, especially if Irene found out that Eleanor had done the stitching herself. She was determined for it to look flawless.
Thomas just watched silently, not wanting to break her concentration, in amazement at the level of detail Eleanor was putting into the clothing. Yet another incredible quality of hers. And it showed just how skilled she was with needle and thread.
Eleanor finished lining the ends of the sleeves and neckline. She held it back and examined her work, glancing up at Thomas. She lifted the fabric so he could see the result. "What do you think?" she asked kindly. "Does it look alright?"
“I think it looks very nice.” Thomas nodded, smiling at her. “Though I have to say, I’m more impressed by the fact that you just made that.”
Eleanor blushed lightly. "If my mother taught me nothing else, she taught me how to sew," the queen remarked quietly, tracing her fingertips lightly over the ribbon. "I hope Irene will appreciate it."
“I believe she will.” he nodded, admiring the woman before him more than the dress. Oh, she had done a beautiful job, he was sure. But he had meant it when he said that Eleanor would look beautiful in anything. “I almost believe she would appreciate it more if you told her you had done this just for her.” he admitted though he was unsure if his Queen should actually bring up that fact.
Eleanor hesitated a moment, looking down at her even stitches and the swirling patterns of the ribbon. "Do you really think she would?" she asked quietly. Her eyes studied the fabric intently, then she lifted her gaze to meet his eyes. A slight chill ran through her. The way he was looking at her… No one had ever looked at her that way before. She felt completely loved and admired under his gaze.
“I think so. Don't most people appreciate when things are done for them?” he asked. Thomas smiled softly when her eyes met his and gently placed his hand against her cheek. “I know I would.” he almost whispered.
Eleanor leaned instinctively into his hand and closed her eyes. “You’re right,” she whispered back, her warm exhaled grazing his wrist. “You’re always right.”
Thomas let out a breath as hers caused a trail of goosebumps to rise on his arm. “I… I wouldn't say always but… I hope I am on this.” he admitted, not raising his voice.
Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at him with amusement behind her gaze. “You usually are,” she remarked quietly, placing her own hand lightly on his knee. “Give yourself more credit.”
Thomas blushed at both the assurance and the touch but did nothing to stop her. “I’ll try. But you should as well.” he pointed out. “You are an amazing, wonderful woman. And you deserve so much more than what you have been given.”
Eleanor was barely able to realize that tears had formed in her eyes before one was rolling down her cheek. She quickly lifted her hands to cover her face and wipe them away quickly. Stop crying, she told herself.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered quietly. “Those are the kindest words anyone has ever said to me.”
Thomas rubbed his thumb across her cheek, brushing away another tear. “It's ok.” he whispered.
“You don't deserve that either, Eleanor.” he shook his head. “You deserve to hear good things all the time. Everyday.”
Eleanor wept quietly. She moved closer to Thomas and buried her face in his neck. Her shoulders shook with held-back sobs, and she clung to his clothing.
Without hesitation, Thomas wrapped his arms around her and held her close, wanting nothing more than to comfort his Queen and the woman he loved. He didn't care what happened to him at this point as he gently stroked her hair in the same way he used to when his younger sister had been upset.
Eleanor hadn't meant to break down so quickly. But it was the combination of her anxiety to meet Queen Irene and his words that struck a chord in her heart as she heard them. His hand stroking her hair was the gentlest thing she'd ever felt, and she didn't want him to stop. Ever.
"I love you," she whispered.
“I love you too.” he whispered, placing a soft kiss to her temple. He didn't want to let go of her yet. But he knew time was running out and something told him that Queen Irene was not the kind of person you kept waiting… “You'll be alright. I’m here.”
Eleanor kept her visit with the other monarch in the back of her mind, but she didn't want to leave Thomas. Not again. She savored his words and placed a chaste kiss where her lips rested on his neck. "I should change," she finally whispered, but to her own dismay.
Thomas swallowed thickly at her last kiss as she unintentionally found one of his weak points, but he nodded when her words finally caught up with him. “Y-… You should.” he agreed, though his arms refused to move and continued to hold her.
Eleanor drew back to study his face briefly. She looked confused at the combination of his stammer and expression. "Are you alright?" she asked worriedly. "I didn't do something wrong, did I? Did I say something?"
“No… No. I’m alright.” he assured her as he caught his breath. “You didn't do anything wrong, Eleanor. I just… My neck is…” he stammered again unsure how to phrase the feeling. “It felt… very good.”
Eleanor's soft lips parted with realization, and her cheeks turned bright pink. "Oh," she whispered. "I didn't realize…" The queen bit her lip gently and noted that he was still trying to catch his breath. Was that because of her? Did she really have that kind of effect on him?
“Neither did I.” he admitted softly. No one had ever kissed him there before and so he was unprepared for it to be such a wonderful sensation. But he was exceedingly thankful that he hadn't embarrassed himself by moaning. “It's alright.”
Eleanor nodded briefly and rose from the edge of the bed, collecting her dress in her arms as she stood. "I'll only be a moment," she said quietly, making her way over behind her changing partition and slipping out of her current dress.