| Part 1
The sun had barely begun its slow descent when she finally emerged
from the keep. The wounded kept multiplying and it was only at
her uncle's insistence that she relinquished her duties for awhile.
Her need for air and light lead her to the Deeping Wall, where
she was finally able to see the scope of the previous night's battle.
The pungent smell of decaying flesh assaulted her nose, threatening
to turn her stomach. Below her the ground was blackened with
blood and broken bodies. This was but the first of many battles
and although the price for her people was high, she felt pride
stir in her at the strength of Rohan.
A swift movement caught her eye and she saw him, fair hair distinguishing
him from the dark carnage surrounding him. Men had been piling
the carcasses of Uruk-hai for burning and others had been digging
graves so that their fallen brethren could have a final resting
place. Before she could stop herself she was walking down the
causeway, carefully threading her way toward him.
"
My Lord," she called softly. When he did not respond, she
moved closer to see what had he been looking at so intensely. She
stifled a gasp when she saw a body of one of the Elven archers
who had come to their aid. His beauty was not lost in death and
it looked as though he was sleeping peacefully, not lying on a
battlefield in a pool of blood.
Another step closer and she was standing next to him. He had still
not spoken, but with a small nod he acknowledged her presence.
She was not uncomfortable with his silence and she used the moment
to discreetly check him for injuries. If she had not been looking
closely, she might have missed it. There was a dark, stiff stain
on his side, in a place his armor did not quite cover.
"
You have been injured," she said, her hand going to his forehead,
to check for the fever she had felt so many times that day. He
was only slightly warm, but his exhaustion was evident. "You
should come with me. We need to clean that wound. Your own healing
powers may have slowed the poisons spread, but we cannot take any
risks." He closed his eyes and whispered something in his
language over the elf before following her back to the fortress.
When they reentered the keep, she turned left, leading him away
from the main hall where they had been treating the injured and
wounded.
"
Lady, are we not going the wrong way?" he questioned as she
led him down a long hallway. She stopped in front of a door with
a detailed carving of a horse in the center. Opening it with a
silver key, she went in and waited for him to follow suit. There
was a bed in the center, made up with a blue quilt, a small table
and chair, and there was a fire burning in the hearth.
"
These are my chambers. I thought you might want to rest in private.
There has been talk that you may be riding out as early as tomorrow
morning," she said, pulling strips of cloth and three small
bottles from her pockets. He nodded his head in thanks as he watched
her.
"
You seem to be well prepared," he noted, with a small smile.
"
It was easier to keep supplies with me. It kept me from having
to run back and forth," she replied, placing everything on
the table near the bed. "You will need to remove your armor
and tunic." She turned back to him and saw the hesitance in
his eyes. "I assure you, my Lord, I have seen others in a
much more dire state of undress today," she said, as she crossed
to the fire and, with an expert hand, unhooked the kettle that
was steaming. The heavy thud of his armor and mail hitting the
floor was followed by the mere whisper of cloth. She brought the
water to the table, added a few drops from one of the bottles and
dipped a piece of the linen into it. He sat in the chair, examining
the wound on his side with nimble fingers. It did not look too
deep and she sighed with relief. There were others who had seen
damage far worse than this.
Kneeling next to him, she squeezed the excess from the cloth and
placed a steadying hand on his thigh. "It may sting a bit," she
said as she began to clean the cut. He did not flinch away; only
a sharp intake of breath gave him away. Carefully, she washed
the blood and grime away, making sure that none of the black
poison that the blade had been coated in remained. His skin was
pale and smooth, and completely unscarred. She could not help
but wonder if Aragorn carried marks of his previous battles upon
his skin. Shaking her head, she refocused on the task in front
of her. The cloth was stained a faint pink, but his wound was
finally clean. When she rose, she noticed his eyes were glassy,
with a faraway look.
"
My Lord," she said, placing her hand on his shoulder. He did
not respond, but she noticed his right hand clenched hard in his
lap. She stepped in front of him and knelt again, resting on her
haunches. Unconsciously, she reached out and brushed his cheek
with the back of her hand and called again.
"
Legolas, what it is?" she whispered. The tension in his body
was palpable and muscles in his forearm were tensed, as if he might
strike out at her, but she was not afraid. She inhaled and the
coppery smell of blood filled her nose. Looking down she saw the
hand clenched in his lap was the source. Her hand ran down his
arm and lingered over the hand, hoping she would not have force
it open. Closing her own hand over his she spoke again, using the
same tone she would with a frightened foal.
"
Legolas, let me see your hand. I will not hurt you. Please, you
must trust me." She felt him relax slightly and she was able
to pull his slender fingers apart. It took all of her control not
to gasp aloud.
His hand was blistered and cracked. There were tiny cuts on his
fingers from the fletching of his arrows and his calluses were
raw and exposed. In the middle of his palm there were four crescent
shaped grooves that were trickling blood. She could tell they
were fairly shallow, but self-inflicted. This was his bow hand
and they could not afford for it to be injured long. He began
to close his fist again, but she held fast, covering his palm
with hers.
"
Stop. What makes you do this to yourself?" she asked, his
eyes looking at her at last. There was something in his eyes she
had never seen before, but she could not pin down what it was. "I
need you to answer me."
"
My bow has failed. If my shot had been true, the wall would never
have been breached. Many were lost and I am the cause," he
said his voice thick with emotion. She pressed her hand against
his as much to provide comfort as to stop the bleeding.
"
But how many more did you save? Do not think I have not heard about
your arrows and the flash of your knives. There are many here who
owe their lives to your speed and skill, including myself," she
said with no guise in her tone. She did not release his hand as
she leaned to retrieve the small bowl that was still sitting near
the chair. The water was still warm and she balanced it on her
lap, pulling their joined hands over it. She gently drew her palm
back from his; their fingers still entwined, and began to squeeze
the liquid from the cloth over the skin, the bowl catching the
excess. The cuts were cleaned, but the rawness remained. She opened
a small green bottle and gently rubbed the balm onto his hand,
knowing it would sooth the pain. Disentangling their fingers, she
bound a strip around his hand, tying it tightly. A flit of disappointment
ran through her at the loss of contact, but she dismissed it.
"
You should rest a while. There will be a council later tonight,
and you will be needed. I will bring you something to eat and find
your things," she said, standing. It was at that moment she
realized that she had been in a very compromising position with
a half naked elf. Turning away to hide the blush that was creeping
up her neck, she opened a door he had not noticed when they first
entered the room.
"
There is a small bathing chamber through here. The water should
be warm enough by now. The wound on your side can be dressed afterwards.
I will return soon," she said, not waiting for his answer.
She shut the door and headed to the main hall. She knew she needed
to find Aragorn and ask him about Legolas' strange behavior, but
came upon her brother first.
"
Sister, I am glad to see you are well," he exclaimed, embracing
her. She was so glad to see him; she could not help the smile that
broke out across her face. He let her go and stepped back, keeping
a hold only of her left hand. "But what is this? Are you hurt?"
"
Nay, Eomer, I am fine. The blood is not my own, but that of Legolas.
I have come from treating his wounds. They are minor, but nevertheless
needed attending. I was just on my way to find Aragorn to advise
him that he is in my care," she answered. She did not think
her brother needed to know of their conversation and his guilt.
That was too personal a matter. "Will you escort me then,
for I wish to hear of where you have been these past days?" Her
brother offered her his arm and began to recount the story of the
Rohirrim and the coming of Gandalf, his questions of Legolas forgotten.
The hall was crowded when they arrive and once there, her brother
left her to speak with a few of his men who had been injured
that morning. Searching the room, she saw the dark head of Aragorn,
kneeling over a young boy. As she approached, she heard him praising
the boy's courage and telling a story of his own childhood as
he wrapped a large gash that went from wrist to elbow. He looked
up when she approached and she was surprised to find the thrill
that usually came when she looked at him had diminished slightly.
With a ruffle of the boy's hair, he stood.
"
My Lady, did you have need of me?" he asked.
She nodded. "It will take but a moment, it is about Legolas." At
the sound of his friend's name, he moved out of the main hall,
into a small west-facing alcove. The sun was sinking lazily and
it threw a shadow across his face that made him look older than
he was.
"
Is he all right?" he asked anxiously. "It has been quite
a journey for all of us." He listened with rapt attention
as she told him of where she had found him on the battlefield,
his distress over his supposed failure, and his injuries both from
the enemy and himself.
"
I worry for him, for this does not seem his nature," she finished,
watching carefully for his reaction. Aragorn did not look at her
as he spoke, choosing instead to survey the fields below.
"
I have known him a long time and there are few whom I carry closer
to my heart. But do not mistake his gentle demeanor for weakness.
For inside him lies a warrior, deadly in battle and fiercely loyal.
He is unaccustomed to failure and death, especially of those he
has sworn to protect, even at the cost of his own life. His arrow
hit the mark, but there was a force beyond us that was driving
that thing forward. It will take him time, but the guilt will pass.
He is frequently too hard on himself," he finished. There
was more to the story, but she knew better than to press him further.
"
I would bring him his things, if you could show me where they are," she
said. When he finally turned back to her, she recognized the same
weariness in his eyes as she had seen in Legolas'. "You too,
must take food and rest, My Lord. You will only do the enemy a
favor if you are too exhausted to carry on in your journey." He
gave her a nod, but she knew her advice fell on deaf ears.
"
Come, I shall get his pack for you,"he replied, stepping out
of the alcove and leading her to another room, closer to the gate.
They did not speak, but the silence was not uncomfortable. When
they entered, he searched for a moment, then handed her a small
leather sack.
"
Shall I give him any message?" she asked as the reentered
the hall, turning to going in opposite directions.
"
Yes, two actually. The first is he must take some rest. Force him
if he is unwilling. I will find him later tonight. The second should
ease his mind. Tell him he lives."
She furrowed her brow. "Who lives?" A small smile spread
across his face.
"
An old friend who is still giving orders and acting as stubborn
as ever. He will know whom I mean," he replied. "I must
return to the hall. My thanks for looking after him. You are a
true friend, Eowyn of Rohan." He left and walked back toward
the main hall.
*******************************************************
He sat, watching the door for a moment after she had left. She
was right; he was weary and needed rest. Standing, he entered the
adjoining room. It was well kept and did not seem overly feminine.
Stripping off his leggings and boots, he sank into the steaming
water. He sighed as he felt his muscles finally begin to unwind
and the grime of the battle left his skin. The water stung the
slash on his side, but it was a pain he could endure for the sake
of being clean. His mind was still whirling with scenes from the
night before, but he tried to block them out, forcing himself to
breathe deeply and evenly. Closing his eyes, he tried to call up
comforting images. His home in the spring, everything in bloom,
sun dappling the forest floor; Lorien, with trees so beautiful
he thought his heart would burst at the sight of them; the small,
translucent red rock he kept with him always, a gift from his mother;
the faces of Aragorn and Arwen, slyly smiling at each other when
they thought no one was looking; Gimli, as he spoke of Galadriel
and her precious gift; Eowyn, on the steps of Edoras, white dress
whipping in the wind. His eyes snapped open. He shook his head,
wondering where that image had come from. He had only known her
a short time and aside from what had happened a few moments ago,
their contact had been brief. Her feelings for Aragorn were clearly
written across her face and he had seen their embrace when the
women were permitted to exit the caves. His friend's heart was
spoken for, but he knew him too well. If Arwen had chosen to sail,
he would have had no trouble in claiming the Shieldmaiden for his
own. They were well matched in many ways. She was skilled and the
way she had handled him earlier proved that she was not easily
intimidated.
The water had begun to cool, so with one hand he deftly undid the
small braids at his temples and submerged his head under the
water, trying to keep his bandaged hand as dry as he could. He
opened his eyes when he was under water; the glassy surface mottled
with dirt and dried blood. He did not how long he stayed that
way, watching the light flicker through the water. He heard a
sound that seemed far off, but he knew someone had entered the
other room. Breaking the surface, he picked up the folded linen
from beside the tub and wrapped it around his waist and twisted
his hair between his fingers to wring out the water. He pulled
the door open and found Eowyn there, hand poised in mid knock.
"
I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you," she stammered, avoiding
his gaze by turning to gesture to the table. "There's food,
it's not much, but it's all I could get at the moment and Aragorn
gave me your pack."
The spicy aroma of the soup reminded him that he had not eaten
for close to two nights and he was famished. "My thanks,
Lady. How are my friends?"
"
They are well. Aragorn and Gandalf are with my uncle, tending to
the wounded. Gimli is sleeping soundly in a room down the hall.
Aragorn sent two messages for you; the first is you must rest and
I am to tie you to the bed if necessary. He will come for you later.
The second is that your friend is alive and giving orders from
his bed. I presume you know of whom he speaks, for he would not
give me a name," she said, keeping her back to him as he put
on clean leggings from his pack.
He allowed himself a small smile as he watched her shred a longer
piece of cloth to bind his side. Haldir lives. The message lightened
his heart a fraction, for the thought his death had been weighing
the heaviest on his mind.
"
I do, and it is glad news indeed," he answered. He was almost
dressed now, with the exception of a tunic and when he looked up,
he saw her staring at him in an odd way. "Will you dress my
wound now, My Lady? For I fear I would look foolish trying to do
it myself." She was happy to hear his voice take a lighter
tone after he received word of his friend, whoever it was. As she
turned back to him, he was finishing the lacing on his leggings.
An image of her fingers pulling them open appeared in her head
and she blinked the image away, wondering where these thoughts
had come from. Had she forgotten her feelings for Aragorn that,
although could never be returned, were still there nonetheless?
She stepped toward him, the strips of cloth trailing down almost
to the floor.
"
Please, you must call me by my given name. We are past titles now,
I think," she said, opening the familiar green bottle and
gently smoothing it onto the skin that was already beginning to
heal. He nodded, an unfamiliar tightening in his throat.
"
We are, Eowyn," he answered as she began to wind the first
strip around the bottom of his ribcage. She said a quick prayer
that her hands would be steady and sure. The balm was cool in her
hand and she focused on the task in front of her. She was standing
close to him and as she reached the end she stepped closer, a small
laugh escaping her lips.
"
You should let out your breath, or these will be very tight indeed." He
let the air he had not realized he was holding out as she tied
the ends together in a flat knot. For a moment she did not move
away and he had to fight back the urge to touch her. Stepping back,
she made for the door again.
"
Eat and rest. I will check on you again later," she said,
as she opened the door. Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed
her hand, stopping her retreat.
"
I cannot thank you for the care you have shown me today," he
said, bringing her hand to his lips and lightly brushing her knuckles
with a kiss. "I am in your debt."
Her cheeks flushed slightly as he dropped her hand. "You do
not owe me anything, Legolas. It was my pleasure." And with
that she shut the door quietly behind her. It was not until she
was around the corner did she allow herself to breathe. Leaning
back against the cool, stone wall, she willed her heart to slow
down. When had she become so bold?
The wall was solid against her hand and in a moment she felt steady
enough to walk at a normal pace. If only she could speak freely
to someone, someone who might be able to explain how in the matter
of a few hours she could believe that she loved one man so truly,
but feel such desire for another. She made her way slowly back
to the hall, masking her face with a practiced calm, only hoping
no one could see her mind spinning with possibilities.
Part 2
War councils were long and tedious and this one had been no exception.
Many plans had been thrown back and forth until a solution was
finally agreed upon. The day after tomorrow, the King, Eomer, and
a small band of Riders would accompany Gandalf and the members
of the Fellowship to Isengard. On the same morning a larger contingent
of Riders, along with the remaining Elven archers would escort
Eowyn and the injured that could travel back to Edoras. Legolas
did not contribute much to the discussion, speaking only when Gandalf
asked him something directly. He felt oddly unsettled, though he
could not narrow it down to one thing in particular. After the
plans had been established, wine was brought, but feeling restless,
he excused himself to find a more solitary peace.
He made his way outside once more and despite his injured hand,
climbed swiftly to the topmost battlement of the fortress. It
was a clear night and stars sparkled in the velvety blackness
of the sky. His keen eyes could make out the edge of Fanghorn
Forest and his heart longed to return there and take refuge in
the ancient trees. The doubt in his mind had grown and not for
the first time, he wondered if he had been foolish to pledge
himself so quickly to this quest. The doubting voice of his father
was faint in his head, telling him he had again failed to live
up to the expectations set for him. He had grown weary of those
sentiments and had done all that he could to escape his father's
house, choosing to wander and explore the forests of Mirkwood
and beyond. It was during this time he met Aragorn and the sons
of Elrond. He spent many happy days hunting and training with
the brothers and he found them to be kindred spirits, for their
father was also disappointed they did not have much interest
in the politics of running a kingdom. He had told them more than
once how lucky they were to have another sibling to heap that
burden on. He had felt his father's full ire when Gollum had
escaped his confinement at Mirkwood. It had been his responsibility
to keep guard over the vile creature and on his only night away,
the Orcs had attacked and Gollum vanished. As punishment his
father sent him as the bearer of this bad news to Elrond, certainly
hoping to subject him to yet more humiliation. He heard soft
steps behind him, but did not turn to see who it was.
"
You have found my secret place, I see," Eowyn said, her voice
laced with mirth. "I should have checked here first, as it
is quiet and as close to the sky as you will find here." Her
smile warmed his heart, driving the thoughts of his father to the
back of his mind. She had changed into a clean dress of dark blue
and her hair was unbound, the ends fluttering in the light breeze.
Leaning companionably against the ledge where he sat she did not
speak, merely gazed out at the long view.
"
What is your happiest memory?" he asked suddenly. She looked
at him, puzzlement crossing her face briefly before answering.
"
I think it would have to be the day I won the race," she answered.
"
Will you tell me about it?" he asked in a tone that was so
sweet she could not refuse him.
"
It was six years ago, just after my birthday. My brother and Theodred
were both home on leave. It had been some time since we had all
been in same place and in the spirit of that we decided to ride
out to the plains together as we had done so many times as children.
We set out at dawn and rode until the sun and exhaustion made us
rest. We ate fruit and nuts from our pouches and I could almost
see the weight of our responsibilities lift from our shoulders.
We lingered as long as we dared, for we knew if we were not back
by sunset, my uncle would send the guard to find us. As we rode
back, Eomer issued Theodred a challenge, a race back to the city.
They had done this to each other for as long as I could remember.
They were evenly matched and many times the race was too close
to call. But they had not counted on one thing, me. For while they
had been away, I had been riding every day, pushing my horse further
and faster, waiting for the opportunity to best them both. I knew
they would not look at me as a true equal until that day. As they
set their horses to the mark, I rode along side as always, so they
would not be suspicious. At Eomer's call, they spurred their horses
forward, and I followed suit. They did not even notice I had joined
the race until I was in front of them both, riding faster than
I ever had before. It was the most exhilarating thing I have ever
felt. It was if the horse and I were one, joined in fluid motion.
When I came back to myself I was at the gates, my brother and cousin
were no less than a quarter league behind. I will never forget
the looks of pride on their faces. I thought they might be angry
with me for deceiving them, but before I knew it, Eomer had pulled
me from my horse and spun me around in his arms as Theodred laughed
harder than I had heard in years. 'It seems our little sister has
finally shown us what a Shieldmaiden can do!' he cried. We walked
to the hall arm in arm, to tell my uncle of my unexpected win.
After he heard the tale, he said only one thing, that he could
be no more proud of me than if I was his own daughter. I thought
for a moment my heart would split in two, I was so happy." She
had closed her eyes as she told the tale and he could not help
but smile when she looked at him again.
"
You are lucky to have such warm memories. Thank you for sharing
that with me, it lightened my heart," he said, sliding down
from where he had been sitting to stand next to her. The distance
between them was very slight and he brushed the back of her hand
with his, entirely by accident. The shiver that ran through her
would have been imperceptible to a man and he stepped closer to
her.
"
Are you cold?" he asked, his voice huskier than he intended.
There was a moment of hesitation before she answered, not meeting
his eyes.
"
No, it is not that," she replied. He studied her profile,
both strong and soft at the same time. She was struggling with
something, he could tell that much from her expression. Bringing
his hand up, he traced the line of her jaw with his fingertip,
enjoying the deep sigh she exhaled.
"
Legolas," she said faintly. He knew that anyone could come
upon them, but he found he didn't care. Her eyes were stormy now
and ignoring propriety he lowered his head, brushing his lips against
hers. Steeling himself for her rejection, he was surprised to feel
her arms pull him flush against her, lips seeking his again. She
tasted like warm honey on his tongue and he kissed her deeply,
tangling his fingers in her hair. Desire, so different than anything
he had felt before raced through him as she nipped at his bottom
lip with her teeth, her fingers tracing mindless patterns over
the skin on the back of his neck. He was rewarded with a moan when
he sucked at the skin just behind her ear, working his lips down
to her exposed collarbone. Breaking away from her, he leaned his
forehead against hers. They were both breathing heavily and he
was sure his eyes wore the same hazy look of desire hers did. He
could hear nothing but her steady heartbeat in his ears and he
almost forgot where we was and what he brought him to this place.
The world was on the brink of destruction and there was an excellent
chance that neither one of them would survive the onslaught that
was coming. 'Was it wrong to want this, to want her?' he asked
himself. There was no time to answer before she kissed him again,
her lips barely brushing his.
"
If we are to continue, we should go someplace more private," she
said softly, her words tickling his lips. Taking his hand, she
led him down the way she had come, navigating the steep steps deftly
in the dark. He ran his thumb along the inside of her palm, holding
back a laugh when she squeezed his hand tightly. They were in part
of the fortress he had not seen and he was content to let her lead
him. No words passed between them, and before he knew it they were
at the door of her rooms. Rational thought seized him once again
as her hand reached out for the knob.
"
Eowyn, wait. Are you sure? I do not wish to push you into something
you will regret later." She smiled sweetly at him and opened
the door before turning back.
"
I am not entirely naive, and if I had not wanted this, I would
not have let you be so bold outside. I understand the risks, more
than you know. There may not be more than this night and we should
not waste it."
The fire was still burning in the hearth, bathing the room in a
soft glow. He shut the door quietly with his free hand and let
her guide him to the edge of the bed. Taking his injured hand
in hers, she worked the knot free, gradually removing the bandage.
It was almost fully healed, as he had expected, with only the
four small scars still visible. She lowered her head, her hair
hiding her face, as she placed tiny kisses on the sensitive skin
there. Working her way up, she ran her tongue over his sensitive
inner wrist, tracing the veins lightly. It was as if she could
light fire in blood with that feathery touch. His breathing was
ragged and he could feel his control slipping. Determined to
make her feel equally as unsteady, he wrapped his arm around
her, dragging her into his lap and brought his mouth to her neck
once more. A small gasp was torn from her lips as she finally
released his arm, pressing her body tightly against his. He found
her mouth again after deftly repaying the torture she had put
him through. Their kisses were more urgent now and every nerve
in his body felt like it was burning white-hot. His hands skimmed
down her back and tugged at the lacing of her dress until he
could pull it down from her shoulders. Her skin was glowing in
the firelight and he wanted to taste every part of her. Leaning
down, he ran the tip of his tongue over the line of her collarbone
and down to the smooth skin between her breasts. Her hands had
slipped under his tunic and were tugging at it impatiently. He
chuckled against her chest and when he went to pull it over his
head; she stood up and turned her back to him.
"
Care to finish what you started?" she asked, with a wicked
grin. She pulled her hair over one shoulder, exposing the partly
untied laces of her dress. Tossing his tunic aside, he worked the
strings loose; dropping soft kisses on her shoulders as he went.
When it was undone, she dropped her arms and the dress slid to
the floor. He ran his fingers along her spine and felt her shiver
against him. The other hand had traveled around her body and was
skimming over her nipple, feeling it harden under his palm.
"
Legolas," she moaned helplessly. She tried to turn and face
him, but he held her where she was.
"
Not yet. I have not finished repaying you for finding my weak spot
so quickly," he answered, his warm breath tickling her ear.
He let his hands roam over her body, never staying in one place
too long. After a few moments she was arching her body against
his, the small of her back pressing against his straining erection.
She was becoming impatient, but he was not finished with her quite
yet. Turning her fast, he kissed her passionately and moved them
back to the bed. Laying her down gently on her back, he was struck
by how beautiful she looked, her hair fanned out against the pillows
and her skin flushed with arousal.
"
Law lin sila sui Ithil," he murmured, lips brushing over the
tip of her nipple. He sucked it into his mouth, nipping lightly.
She buried her hands in his hair and slowly unraveled the small
braids at his temples. When her fingers traced the tip of his ear,
he shuddered and pressed himself closer to her. He switched his
attention to the other breast and blew softly on it and a shaky
sigh escaped her lips.
She gave a whimper of protest as he moved to the soft skin of her
torso, leaving a trail of tiny kisses. He nuzzled the soft skin
of her stomach, reveling in the scent of grass and something
spicy and distinctly her own. She giggled as his tongue darted
out to circle her navel, his fingers skating over her ribs as
he kissed his way down her body. But when he got to the juncture
of her thighs, her body tensed.
"
Relax, linmaer," he said, gently nibbling at the hollow of
her hip. "My hands are not the only things with years of practice." There
was a flash of indecision on her face before she settled back against
the pillows and let her legs fall open in silent permission. He
moved forward, kissing and licking her inner thigh, carefully avoiding
the one place she wanted him to touch the most.
"
Please," she gasped, "I cannot take much more." Teasing
her, he ran his fingers along her folds, letting her relax into
his touch. He ended her exquisite torture with a swirl of his tongue
against her swollen clit. Her hips jerked in response and he didn't
stop until she was writhing, his name tumbling from her lips over
and over. One more well placed stroke and he felt her muscles quiver
and tense around him. Crawling back up her body, he kissed her
again, letting her taste herself on his mouth. Not wanting to be
idle, he felt her hand slide between them and pull at the laces
on his breeches. With surprising speed, she had them open and was
pushing them over his hips. Sitting up, he finished pulling them
off and tossed them in the vague direction of his tunic. She was
watching him, an odd expression on her face.
"
Eowyn?" he asked, wondering if now she was having second thoughts.
This would be the point of no return. If she didn't ask him to
stop now, he was not sure if he could.
She smiled at him, half wonder and half pure satisfaction. "You
are a mystery to me. A fierce and deadly warrior, yet your touch
is so gentle." He moved next to her, his body flush against
hers. Her hand drifted down, brushing lightly over his erection.
"
One might say the same of you, my Lady," he answered as she
trailed a touch along the pulsing vein on the underside of his
erection. His eyes drifted closed as wave after wave of desire
washed over him. She was making steady strokes, more sure of what
she was doing. Heat coiled in his stomach and he knew that she
had to stop. Taking her hand, he pulled it away and kissed her.
"
If you do not stop, things will be over before they have begun," he
whispered in her ear. He moved her beneath him and he watched her
carefully. Despite her comments earlier, he knew she hadn't done
this before.
"
There will be pain," she said, looking him in the eye. The
vulnerability in her eyes made her softer somehow.
He nodded. "Yes, but I will make it as easy as I can." Positioning
himself, he brought her hand to him once more. "Guide me." Tilting
her hips, she brought him to her entrance. She was warm and wet
and it took all his restraint not to sheath himself inside her.
As he began to enter her, her hand fell away and she spread her
legs wider.
She was tight and he started with shallow thrusts, each one going
a little further than the last. He flicked his thumb back and
forth over her clit, hoping to bring her pleasure before the
inevitable pain. Slowly, she began rolling her hips in time with
his thrusts and he could feel her barrier stretching. Her eyes
were unfocused with pleasure and he leaned down, catching her
lips as he broke through. Hissing in pain, she turned away from
him. He began to pull away, but she stopped him. Kissing him
lightly on the mouth, she rocked her hips so he was buried deeply
inside of her. They found a rhythm, slow and steady. Hands roamed
over his back and when she leaned up and caught then sensitive
tip of his ear between her teeth, he slammed into her, eliciting
a moan from low in her throat. Stepping up the pace, she matched
him thrust for thrust and when she clenched her inner muscles
around him, he knew he was close. Grinding against her, he pushed
her toward the edge with him. She wrapped her legs around his
back and threw her head back, moaning his name. His pulse was
thundering in his ears and when he touched her, he swore there
was a spark. Her body was as taut as a bowstring and he felt
her shudder, triggering his own release. Their eyes met and something
shifted inside him so slightly, he didn't even notice.
Trembling, he eased himself off of her. His heart had stopped racing
and the rush he had been riding was finally coming to an end.
Eowyn's breathing had slowed and she was looking at him, eyes
half closed.
"
You should rest, tomorrow will be a busy day," he said, pulling
her into his arms. She laid her head on his shoulder and wrapped
her leg over his in a slightly possessive gesture that made him
smile. He could feel the warmth of her hand through the bandage
on his stomach, but he clamped down on his desire. Tugging the
quilts over them, he fell into to a peaceful sleep.
***************
Part 3
The forest was lush and green and although she seemed to be alone,
she felt perfectly safe. She heard water nearby and she followed
the sound until she came to a lovely stream. The bank was soft
and mossy and she sat down, dangling her feet in the cool water.
The sun was warm on her face as she lay back, looking up at the
sky that was the most perfect shade of blue. Someone was calling
her name; the voice was familiar, but seemed very far away.
"Eowyn", it called, "you must wake up." Opening
her eyes slowly, she saw Legolas leaning over her, his eyes the
color of her dream sky. Then she realized that she was completely
nude, her legs tangled with his under the heavy quilt.
"Good morning," she said shyly. Things looked different
in the light of day and she was wondering if he would think less
of her after what they had done last night. But his eyes didn't
leave hers and he smiled at her.
"Good morning to you too. It is not late, but people have
been moving about in the halls. It won't be long before Gimli is
banging on the door, shouting for me to wake up," he said.
She chuckled, knowing that's exactly what he would do.
"My brother will be looking for me," she said. She sat
up, a pleasant soreness invading her body. He was still looking
at her, a lazy half-smile still on his face. Modesty reared its
head and she pulled the linen undersheet up and over her. Leaning
toward him, she touched his side lightly. "How do you feel?" she
asked. He had taken the bandage off during the night, and she wasn't
surprised to see nothing but a scar, raised and pink, where the
cut had been. Catching her hand, he rubbed his thumb over the back
of it slowly.
"I feel much better," he said, "There is hot water
for you in the other room."
"Thank you," she said gratefully. He stood up and began
to dress. He moved with an unnatural grace, and she couldn't help
but feel mildly disappointed when his clothes were back on. Sitting
on the chair, he ran his fingers through his hair and redid the
braids at his temples.
"Will you be with the healers today?" he asked as he
finished the one on the right.
"Yes, in the hall. I have a few people I want to check on," she
answered. She felt so awkward, as if this conversation was slightly
unreal. "Legolas, I…." She broke off, not knowing
what to say.
He smiled gently at her. "I know. This was…unexpected." Kneeling
in front of her, he took her face between his hands. "But
I would not trade it for anything. I have no regrets," he
whispered against her mouth. She barely moved and she was kissing
him fiercely. Needing to breathe, he broke away from her, his forehead
touching hers. "Bathe, dress and eat. There will be time for
this later, I promise." Kissing her once more, he left.
******
She wiped her hands on a rag and sat back on her heels. This man
would live, she was almost certain. Turning to the young girl
who was helping her, she gave instructions to change the dressing
again in a few hours. She stood up and stretched her arms over
her head, feeling her muscles scream in protest. Moving toward
the door, she glanced around. There were still many people who
were injured, but there were many more that were going to be
fine.
The passageway was pleasantly silent after the chaos of the hall.
It was the first moment she'd had to herself since she left the
room this morning. Eomer had been searching for her and escorted
her to breakfast with her uncle and Aragorn. Legolas was thankfully
absent. Gimli told her he was with the other elves, doing "Whatever
it is that those elves do". She was relieved that they did
not have to face the others so soon after what happened. While
her brother and uncle might not know, she had a feeling Aragorn
would be able to tell right away. The meal was pleasant enough,
but she was sure they were waiting for her to leave to talk about
the upcoming battles. She could feel the anger rising and excused
herself quickly, before she lost her temper. There were many things
to do in the hall and she worked non-stop all morning and most
of the afternoon, stopping only for a drink of water. Keeping herself
busy meant she didn't have to think about Legolas or what was happening
between them. She still felt unsettled and she wondered if he was
feeling the same way.
Shouting interrupted her thoughts. It was in a language she didn't
understand, but it sounded vaguely familiar. The door was open
and she saw two of the elves in what seemed to be a heated argument.
"Haldir, lie still! You are still injured," the one
standing shouted. His clothes were like Legolas', only where his
were soft greens and browns; these were silvery blue and grey.
The one on the bed was wrapped to the waist in bandages and over
the shoulder, where she saw blood seeping through. Pushing the
door open all the way, Eowyn stepped into the room.
"Is everything all right in here?" she asked in her
most authoritative voice. They both stopped moving and stared at
her. The one on the bed broke the silence.
"You must excuse my brother, My Lady. He forgets his manners
frequently," he answered in Westron. "I am Haldir of
Lorien. This is my brother, Rumil," he said, touching his
heart and bowing his head.
"I am Eowyn, sister-daughter of King Theoden," she replied,
not noticing the glance between the brothers. "You should
listen to your brother, Master Elf. Your bandages give you away," she
said, gesturing to his shoulder. Haldir looked down and cursed
under his breath at the red blemish.
Rumil grinned at her. "Thank you, My Lady. Perhaps he will
heed your words, as he clearly refuses to take my advice." She
moved to the bed and looked down at Haldir.
"May I?" she asked, gesturing to his shoulder. He looked
into her eyes, and she was tempted to look away, but resisted.
After a moment he pulled the silvery hair back and nodded his acceptance.
Untying the knot from around his neck, she slowly unwound the fabric.
The cut underneath was jagged and deep. The skin had begun to
heal near the edges, but it had been disturbed during the night.
"Were you scratching it?" she asked, an amused tone
in her voice. Haldir had the good sense to look slightly ashamed.
"It is possible that during the night I may have, but not
consciously, My Lady," he answered.
"Rumil, will you go back to the hall and get some fresh bandages.
I will need to rewrap these after I'm finished," she said,
pulling the balm from her pocket.
Moving to the door, Rumil grinned. "Anything for a lady who
can convince my brother to admit when he has done something he
shouldn't."
Eowyn turned back to Haldir. "If I check your back, will
I find more of the same?" she asked, lightly scolding. He
straightened his spine, wincing only a bit.
"You will have to look, for I do not have eyes in the back
of my head," he replied haughtily. She stood and began slowly
unwinding the layers over his torso. She bit back a gasp when she
pulled the last one away. The gash in his back was long, from shoulder
to waist and deep. A few inches over and he would not have survived.
The realization of who this elf was hit her like a ton of bricks.
"You, you are the friend Aragorn spoke of yesterday. Legolas
was quite relieved to hear you were alive," she said, understanding
now after seeing him why Legolas was so upset. "You are very
lucky; a man would not have survived such an injury." A lump
formed in her throat at the thought of her brother or Aragorn being
on the receiving end of such a blow.
Haldir shifted under her hands. "This is but an injury to
the body and it will heal and disappear. Injuries to the heart
and soul are more difficult to mend."
"Yes, they are," she agreed, thinking of the days when
Grima haunted her steps and her dreams. Last night had been the
first night she had slept without the specter of him clouding her
thoughts. The sound of the opening door stopped any more thoughts
of what or who might have driven the nightmares away.
"Will these do?" Rumil asked, dropping several different
strips of various sizes onto to bed. She selected the longest one
and moved the rest.
"These will be fine, I think," she answered. "I'm
going to apply this balm to the wounds. It may sting, but once
it sets in it will numb it and the itching should stop. I used
it on Legolas and he was fine this morning." The brothers
shared another look as she smoothed the mixture over Haldir's back
and shoulder. With Rumil's help, she redid the bandages. The relief
on Haldir's face was evident already.
"I can not thank you enough for this, My Lady."
"Your speedy recovery will be thanks enough for me," Eowyn
replied. Rumil groaned and clutched his chest.
"Must he recover? I do so enjoy being able to give him orders
and restrict him to bed as he has done to me for so long. Would
you deprive me of that, Lady Eowyn?" he said, collapsing onto
the bed with a dramatic flourish and landing on Haldir's legs.
"Get off of me, you clumsy Orc," he groused. She laughed
in spite of herself. Such light-hearted banter was welcome after
dealing with so much pain this day.
"I understand completely. I am the youngest and am often
subject to the bossy whims of my brother," she said.
"We shall compare notes tomorrow then, for Haldir and I will
be part of the company escorting you back to Edoras," Rumil
said, gracefully avoiding his brother's attempts to move him.
"Until tomorrow then," she said, throwing one last smile
over her shoulder.
*********
When the door was closed, Rumil faced Haldir, a wide smile on
his face. "So, that is the Lady Eowyn. Legolas did not exaggerate,
she is quite fair indeed." He stood, gathering the leftover
linen and putting in his pack. Rumil turned back to Haldir, but
his brother seemed deep in thought. "What is it?" he
asked, intrigued at what had made his brother so suddenly silent.
"Could you not feel it?" Haldir asked him. "There
is something more than mere friendship between Legolas and the
Lady Eowyn. After the way he spoke about her this morning, I could
not be sure, but now I am certain."
Rumil shook his head. "Brother, you are making something
out of nothing. They are friends, he has spent a considerable amount
of time with her lately, and that is all." Sitting down in
the chair, he sighed loudly. "Haldir, he is young and impetuous,
but he's not a fool. He would never play with her heart like that.
Even if there were feelings between them, he knows better than
that, after the agony he has seen Arwen going through."
"I hope you are right, Rumil, for both of their sakes," Haldir
answered, his eyes still on the door.
*********
The minute she stepped into the room, she knew he was already
there. She didn't know how she knew that; it just seemed to be
a vague awareness on the edge of her senses. As she stood near
the door, she felt a warm hand on the small of her back.
"Is it custom for the White Lady to linger so far from the
festivities of her King?" Legolas asked his voice low in her
ear. Stealthily, she reached behind and laced her fingers through
his.
"I was not lingering, I was merely waiting for a proper escort," she
answered, her thumb stroking over his sensitive inner wrist. With
a quirk of his mouth, he pulled their hands forward, moving her
hand to the crook of his elbow.
"I would be honored to escort you, my Lady," he said,
affecting a tone of formality. She inclined her head and they made
their way to the table. He guided her to her seat and promptly
took the one next to it. Her brother had ceded his usual seat,
at her uncle's left hand to Aragorn. Gandalf was sitting on the
right, in Theodred's seat. She was suddenly overwhelmed with sadness
that her cousin had not been here to see the strength of the people
he would have been proud to rule. Looking up, she met her brother's
eyes and knew he was thinking the same thing.
Dinner was a quieter affair than most she was used to. Everyone's
mind seemed to be on what tomorrow's travels would bring. It was
going to quite an effort to get back to Edoras and even with the
elves; she was concerned that they could be vulnerable to attack.
"Eowyn, I am sorry we did not get to speak much during this
visit. I was looking forward to hearing what you thought of the
books I gave you," Gandalf's gravelly voice said from her
left. Her uncle was involved in a discussion with Aragorn and not
really listening. She nodded, remembering the stack of books that
she had secreted away in a cabinet in her room in Edoras.
"I loved them, Mithrandir. It was the best gift I could have
asked for, not to mention the most useful. I hope I will be able
to see all of those places when this over," she answered quietly.
Gandalf smiled at her, a hint of mirth in his eyes.
"I have no doubt you will have that chance, my dear." Her
uncle clearing his throat, a clear sign he was requiring their
attention, abruptly ended the conversation.
"Friends, this may well be our last night of peace in this
place. Rohan has won only the first of what will no doubt be many
battles. But, if it were not for the foresight and aid of new allies,
this might not have come to pass. I cannot express my gratitude
for this. My only wish is that more of our brothers could be here
to celebrate this with us," Theoden raised his goblet. "To
absent friends." They all followed suit and she blinked back
tears thinking again of Theodred.
"Tomorrow will be a long day for us all. Rest while you can,
we ride at dawn," said Theoden. The marshals began to leave,
talking amongst themselves and she stood, knowing this was her
cue to leave as well. She put a cap on her irritation, not wanting
to end this night angry with her uncle for his long held beliefs.
"I will take my leave as well. There are a few things I should
attend to before I go to bed," she said, wondering what she
could do to catch Legolas' attention. There would be no chance
to speak to him here, not without being subject to the close scrutiny
of everyone in the room. She felt a brief brush of his hand against
hers as he reached for the wine. Out of the corner of her eye she
saw him nod ever so slightly.
"Eowyn, there is something I wish to discuss with you in
the morning. Would you attend me then?" her uncle asked.
She masked her confusion quickly. "Of course. Until then," she
replied and exited the room without looking back.
************
More than two hours later, she was still sitting at the window,
staring out at her obstructed view of the path back to Edoras.
Her pack was near the door, ready for the morning. But her mind
was not on the journey ahead; it was on the subject she had tried
to avoid all day, Legolas.
She had remade the bed before she had left this morning, letting
her hand linger over the pillow where he had slept. It was ridiculous,
but she swore she could still feel the warmth of his body there.
The logical part of her mind was telling her to stop this silliness,
that she was acting like a foolish little girl. She had abandoned
those notions when she had discovered that they could be twisted
and manipulated into something ugly.
The years that Grima had spent in her life had hardened her. She
was sixteen, barely a woman when he had come as an advisor to her
uncle. The men she had grown up with treated her as one of their
own, a younger sister to them all. But Grima had no such notions.
Almost from the first moment he arrived she had to endure his eyes
following her everywhere. As time went on and his influence grew,
he became more and more bold in his advances. Eomer had been sure
to impress upon Hama that he was leaving her in his care. But Hama
could not be everywhere at once. Like the night Grima cornered
her in the library, pressed her against the shelves and whispered
what he must have thought were words of seduction in her ears.
Her flesh was crawling at the feel of his fetid breath across her
cheek and she froze, all her training forgotten. And then he was
gone, as if he had never been there at all. From that moment, she
withdrew. She spoke so little and spent time locked in her rooms,
practicing her sword work day and night. She had even taken to
carrying a dagger hidden in the folds of her dresses.
When they brought Theodred back, bleeding and broken, she knew
that Grima wouldn't bide his time much longer. She told Eomer everything
and begged him to say nothing, knowing that if he confronted Wormtongue,
he would be banished or worse, put to death. But her headstrong
brother didn't listen. She stood on the hill and watched them ride
out, her heart sinking.
She had been elated when Gandalf exposed the evil that Grima had
been fostering, but her heart did not thaw like she thought it
would. Aragorn was handsome and brave, the things of legend and
fairy tales. He would see her as an equal, but he was in love with
someone else, a princess. And though she had feelings for him,
they had not driven the stain of Grima away. But Legolas had.
When she had seen him there on the battlefield, she saw herself
in the library, closing herself off to the world. She wouldn't
be able to live with herself if she stood by and let him suffer
as she had. The look in his eyes as he spoke of his failure was
so familiar she felt her heart ache. She couldn't bear to see something
so beautiful wither under the pain of guilt and regret. Her words
had driven it away, but it was back when she had found him at the
tower. Normally, she would never have been so open, but he put
her at ease and his smile when she finished telling him her story
was worth it.
She was afraid when he had touched her face, waiting for her defenses
to snap into place. There would be no words to fully explain why
she would turn cold and stiff. Then she felt his lips touch hers
and it was like her body had suddenly come alive. She was lost
in the moment and unable to stop herself. All she wanted was to
feel him, to wrap her body and soul in his warmth and light.
"Eowyn." He was standing inside the doorway, a trace
of a smile on his face. It wasn't until he moved that she realized
he was not a vision, conjured from her thoughts.
"I did not hear you come in," she said. She had wanted
to be alone with him all day and now that she was, she had no idea
what to say. He sat on the bed, settling against the pillows and
stretching his long legs in front of him.
"Will you sit with me here?" he asked, extending his
hand in invitation. Leaving the chair, she took his hand and sat
near the edge. With a laugh, he tugged her over until she was settled
in the crook of his arm, her head on his shoulder. "I found
myself thinking of you at the most inappropriate moments today."
She smiled and wrapped her arm around his waist. "Such as?"
"Such as when I was discussing the ride to Isengard with
your brother and Aragorn. No doubt they thought I was quite mad.
Apparently, they had been trying to get my attention for some time," he
answered, running his fingers through her hair. It was soothing
and she leaned into his touch.
"I met Haldir and Rumil today," she said. She could
feel the vibration of his chuckle under her cheek.
"I trust they were polite. I would not wish to thrash them
for treating you as they do everyone else," he said with a
wink.
"No, they were very amusing. Rumil was taking advantage of
his brother's injuries to tease him mercilessly. I take it he does
not get that chance very often," she said. Her hand traced
the stitching on his tunic, reveling in the peace of the moment.
"He doesn't. Haldir is prone to taking things much too seriously.
Being Marchwarden has seeped into his personal life, I'm afraid.
Sometimes he forgets to leave his position on the borders when
he is at home."
She sat up and turned to him. "Haldir is the Marchwarden
of Lorien? I did not know that. I take more comfort than before,
if he is to travel with us. I do not imagine the road back will
be easy or without the threat of danger," she said, remembering
the Wargs that had attacked them on the way to Helm's Deep. He
pulled her back to his side and kissed her lightly on the forehead.
She buried her face in his shoulder, inhaling his scent. It reminded
her of the plains after a rainstorm, green and pure. His hands
were in her hair again, twisting it around his nimble fingers.
A blush crept over her face as she remembered the other places
his fingers had touched, in this room, in this very bed.
"Is this odd, to feel so comfortable with you, but only having
known you for so short a time?" she asked.
"I admit, I have wondered the same thing. I do not know if
there is an answer. All I know for sure is I have come to care
for you. You are a spark of light in an ever-darkening journey," he
replied, kissing her softly. She wound her arms around his neck
and deepened the kiss, the fire that had been dormant all day suddenly
bursting to life inside her. Crawling into his lap, she straddled
him, pressing her body flush against his. His hands were under
her skirt, leaving trails of heat across her thighs. She ran her
fingers over the tip of his ear, enjoying the shudder that ran
through him. His mouth was at the base of her throat, sucking and
licking at the hollow there, and she could not help but moan.
"Turnabout is fair play, linmaer," he teased. She laughed
as she pulled his tunic off and ran her hands over his chest. He
was so different than the men she had known, lean and sinewy rather
than broad and solid. A sudden need to feel his skin against her
overtook her and without pretense, she gathered her nightdress
in her hands and pulled it over her head. She wrapped her arms
around him and held him to her, feeling his heart beat in time
with hers. She closed her eyes, trying to burn this moment into
her memory, something to hold onto in the dark days to come.
"If we do not survive what's to come, I will die knowing
I have had one perfect moment in this life," she whispered
in his ear. He turned his head and caught her lips in a kiss that
said more than any words she could have asked to hear.
Gently, he eased her up and wriggled out of his leggings. She
felt his hands settle on her hips as he positioned her above him.
Catching his eye, she sank down slowly, letting him fill her. Rolling
her hips experimentally, she heard him moan with approval. With
a slight change of angle, she felt the amazing friction speed through
her body as he moved with her, driving harder and harder against
her. Suddenly, she could feel the stars bursting behind her eyes
and she came, crying his name. She collapsed against him, her bones
liquid, and with one last thrust, she felt him follow her into
oblivion.
**********
Translations:
Law lin sila sui Ithil. - Your radiance shines like
the moon. Linmaer - Lovely one
|