Title: Settling
Author (including email): saraid (saraid@wf.net)
Pairing(s): Aragorn/Legolas
Rating: PG13
Summary: that would spoil it.
Disclaimer: not mine, no money.
Warning (only if necessary): none
Authors Note (if needed/desired): my first LotR fic,
set during Two Towers and written in a mad dash after
my fourth viewing tonight. be not afraid, i've written
some pretty good fic in other fandoms, so this
shouldn't completely suck.

story:
*******
Settled
--------
by saraid

*
Helm's Deep was saved.

The Kingdom of Rohan -- the people of Rohan -- were
*saved*.

Through some inexplicable combination of luck and
valor, they had lived to see another sunset.

Wandering the halls of the Keep, Eowyn felt the
weariness in her bones. 

And the peace in her heart.

Her brother, Eomir, had returned from his unjust
exile, in time to save them.

Her King was returned to his self.

She paused at a crossway to listen. After the horrors
of the night before and the tension of this day, it
seemed everyone was settled. 

Her job had been the settling. Finding food and
bedding and enough places to sleep for hundreds of
exhausted men and soldiers and Elves. Joined by the
force of women grateful to be alive and have some
menfolk left, she'd organized and diplomacized  until
at last everyone - *everyone* - had food in their
belly and a blanket to share, if not one to
themselves.  

Theoden had decreed they would stay here. Parties
would be sent to gather food and supplies from the
fields, while others repaired the damage done to
Helm's Deep, but they would all be safer here for the
rest of this war.

Her own bed called.

Wrapping her hands in her skirt, she turned not toward
it.

Single bedchambers were few and far between, but as a
hero of Helm's Deep and the Heir of Gondor, Aragorn
had rated one. He'd been gracious and insisted on
sharing it with his fellows, but Eowyn had insisted,
giving them the chamber adjoined with his. The Elf and
the dwarf seemed to like each other's company well
enough.

She had three Ladies-in-Waiting sleeping in her
chamber, on pallets on the floor. 

In their exhaustion, it was unlikely they would notice
her absence.

The duties of host nudged her again. So, finally,
instead of knocking directly at Aragorn's door, she
went first to the next one.

It opened slowly and she had to bite back a laugh at
the sight of the Dwarf, draped in a nightshirt far too
long for him. The soft material looked incongruous
beneath his thick beard and squashed features.

It puddled around his feet and he held the right side
up with one hand, much like a maiden with a gown.

She knew from the look in his eyes that if she laughed
he would shut the door in her face.

"Eventide, Master Dwarf," he said as evenly as she
could. "Are you and your companion settled for the
night? Do you have everything you need?"

She looked over his head. It was a small room,
originally intended as servant's quarters for the
master room beside it.

One of the two small beds was mussed, but the other
was neatly made.

The Elf was nowhere to be seen.

"Is Le-" she stumbled over the name, "-Legolas well?"

"Well he is and well he would stay, if you don't go
disturbin' him." The dwarf sounded grumpier than being
woken accounted for.

Confused, she followed his glance toward the
connecting door.

"Oh! Are he and Lord Aragorn visiting? I can fetch
them something to drink, perhaps food. I thought all
would be asleep this late into the night, after the
battle."

The Dwarf shook his head. It seemed he was impatient
with her.

"There are none so blind as those who will not see,"
he sighed heavily, delivering this rather poetic
declaration that she didn't understand at all. 

He quickly sullied the moment with a more mundane
commentary.

"I'm for the privy. If you are here when I return, we
might have something to talk about."

He stumped past her. Looking after him, she thought he
was somehow diminished, without his axe at hand and a
tall friend beside him.

Pondering his strange words, she shut the chamber door
to keep the heat from the  fire in, and went to the
connecting door.

She moved to knock, but the sound of a soft voice
stopped her.

It was low and sweet and murmuring in Elvish.

And it wasn't Aragorn's.

She'd heard him speak the language before, conversing
with his friends. She'd learned he'd grown up among
the elves. It wasn't odd that was the tongue they used
now.

The syllables were too fluid, too slippery to her
mind. She didn't like the sound of it.

Then she heard her own language, still in the jeweled
voice of the Elf.

"We have put that behind us, Estel. The rest lies
ahead of us. Tonight we have only this time. And
this."

"I cannot put it aside so easily, Legolas."

How tenderly he said that name. Eowyn shivered at the
sound of it.

Her mind, unbidden, offered a memory of the day
before.

In the hall, when Aragorn returned.  The tension on
his face.

The smile when the Elf teased him.

The clasp of their hands when the necklace was
exchanged.

Aragorn's hand had been bloodied and torn. The Elf's
had been as pure and beautiful as the rest of him.

It had been a private moment in a public place. She'd
only seen them from behind, but suddenly she wondered
what their eyes had shown. 

"First loves are the hardest to lose," Legolas spoke
as gently as Aragorn had. "And you have lost too many
these days." 

"He came because of me. If I had not been here -
Legolas, Haldir died because of me."

Deep sadness and no real guilt. Eowyn was startled to
realize she was leaning heavily on the door. Could the
Elf hear her?

The Dwarf would be cross if he found her so. But this
conversation -- this private moment, was too beguiling
for her to abandon.

"The choice you made for Arwen does not apply here."
Legolas again. Sounding firm and tender. "I am not a
young girl caught in the dream of romance. I would
remain in Middle Earth if you did not."

"Legolas..." a sigh. He sounded...sad.

"Grief will not bow my back, Aragorn. Only the lack of
a life well-lived."

She could bear no more. Without even a knock, Eowyn
opened the door. It swung easily, the hinges smooth
leather and not metal. A draping of curtain hung
before it, to give privacy to the inhabitant when
servants entered unannounced. Unlike some, it was made
of thick, harsh stuff, and so hadn't been claimed as
blanket or bedding. 

It also contained holes, somehow conveniently placed
at eye-level.

Damning herself, she peered through them.

Tears welled in her eyes and blurred her vision,
though she saw well enough what she was seeing.

The bed was at the other end of the chamber, nearer
the fire. Little more than a large feather tick on a
frame, it still wasn't so larger that two male beings
could fit on it comfortably.

Yet they managed.

From her angle she could see almost everything.

The Elf, stretched out on his back. Flat and smooth
and cool. Ankles crossed, slender, elegant feet
relaxed.

His hair caught the firelight as it spread across the
dark wool of the blankets, making it look like
moonlight splashed across the bed.

His skin glowed -- with the faintest sheen of
perspiration and the beauty she'd never thought to
see.

All of his skin, for he was as naked as she'd never
seen an Elf or Man be.

Women of her station weren't exposed to this kind of
immodesty. Even after they were married, being naked
and uncovered would be brazen. 

In caring for the sick and wounded she'd seen perhaps
more than she was supposed to, but had yet been
protected from the full view of a man.

The line of the Elf's body was unbroken on the side
she could see, from the top of his head to the toes on
his feet.

The curve of buttock, the rise of chest -- all of this
drew her eyes and she bit the inside of her mouth.

How could anything male be so beautiful?

Next to him, Aragorn seemed... huge.

Huge and dark and overbearingly powerful. It was
strange, because she knew they were of a size. Next to
each other they became a play on light and dark, but
lying down...

With Aragorn on his side, next to Legolas, one muscled
arm thrown over the pale chest...

His dark head resting on a slim shoulder. Tilted
downwards.

Legolas was stroking his hair, as tenderly as any
mother with her babe.

As she watched, Aragorn tipped his head up. Legolas'
hand slipped down to his chin and held him there for a
kiss.

Eowyn gasped.

How could she not have seen this?!


"Seen enough?"

The Dwarf's voice behind her made her jump.

The two on the bed started -- Legolas had a knife in
his hand and was pushing Aragorn behind him before
she'd had the chance to hear it all.

"Gimli!" he called, not putting the weapon down.
Beside him she thought she saw Aragorn's shoulders
shaking. Was he laughing?!

"Too many eyes, Master Elf!" the Dwarf called back.
His hand pushed Eowyn into the room despite her
frantic head-shaking.

"My Lady." Legolas put his hand down and relaxed back.
The knife vanished somewhere among the bedclothes.

"What game do you play here, Eowyn?" Propped on an
elbow, so close to the Elf's side, Aragorn studied her
with cool eyes. "Do you seek to cause mischief this
night?"

Blushing fiercely, she knew she couldn't explain. What
had driven her to this - this - invasion of privacy?!

The Elf was glaring at her. Boldly he put his arm
around Aragorn and pulled him closer.

"You've found yet another admirer, Estel," he said
softly. "I warned you it would come to this."

"You said nothing of being naked in bed with you when
it happened!" Aragorn laughed softly. "Truly, I do not
seek this attention, beloved."

The word made Eowyn shake. She tried to turn away
before she was humiliated further, but the Dwarf
prevented her.

"I see why you do not flaunt your affair," she
whispered. A part of her wanted to hurt them, to hate
them. They had no right to mock her.

Aragorn had been kind to her. He'd taken her in his
arms and held her after the final battle.

Or had that been the imaginings of a love-sick girl?

Where had he gone after he left her?

Had he joined her at dinner or during the scant
moments she'd had to herself through the day?

He hadn't even sought her out.

What she had attributed to exhaustion had actually
been simple non-interest.

He hadn't sought her out because he hadn't wanted to.

The humiliation was almost more than she could bear
and she spoke more viciously than she intended.

"The warriors of Rohan would not follow you so boldly
into battle if they knew what warms your bed at
night!"

Aragorn stiffened.

"Have a care, Theoden's kin. I have no wish to wound a
member of his house, but if you continue..."

Legolas put his fingers over the Man's mouth.

"Hush, melethron. She does not understand what she
rejects."  He looked at her and there was such sadness
in his eyes. Pity. It stung, but she said no more.
"Though we must shield our love from the narrow vision
of Men, among Elven-kind it is nothing remarkable."

"Except when measured by the depth and breadth of it,"
Aragorn kissed the finger son his lips and took the
and away, holding it. "I am sorry, Eowyn, if you
mistook my courtesy for more than friendship offered.
There is only room for one in my bed, and in my
heart."

"Melethron," Legolas whispered. His face twisted into
an amused smile. "That was almost romantic."

"Well, then I take it back," Aragorn said promptly. He
brought the hand to his lips and carefully opened the
fingers with his own. He licked the palm, gazing up at
Legolas as he did so. "We can't have that."

Legolas let out a sound Eowyn could have called a
sigh, only so much...richer.

It was plain they had forgotten she was in the room,
of no longer cared. Aragorn cupped the back of the
Elf's head and bought their mouths together. The
moonsilk hair slipped over them. 

The Dwarf grabbed her by the arm and hustled her out
of there, almost tangling her in the drapery. When the
door shut behind them he gave her an honest glare,
then turned back to his bed. With some thumping and
effort he climbed upon it and drew the covers up.

She knew she would never laugh at him again.

A soft moan came through the door and hot tears stung
her eyes. 

It wasn't the humiliation she felt, or the anger. She
knew it was just, she had earned it well enough, with
her silly dreams and rude behavior.

It was hard to get out the door. Once in the passage
again, she rubbed at her face with her hand, trying to
make the tears stop.

Determined, she set off away from them, but was
stopped again when she heard a louder, more emotional
moan.

Too have such a love... hidden or no, it was more than
she believed she would ever feel.

Perhaps after this night it was more than she
deserved.

With her composure regained, Eowyn was able to walk
slowly down the passageway, toward her room.

If she listened to the moans and laughs that seeped
out from beneath the door behind her, she didn't allow
herself to show it.

~~~ the end ~~~