Title: Discoveries, Chapter Three: Preparing to Ride Author: Shannon, Fields_of_paper_flowers@hotmail.com Pairing: Legolas/Éomer Rating: NC-17 Again, it is the overall story… I guess this chapter is about PG. Summary: Éomer realises that he needs to be more careful about when and where he wishes to be with Legolas. (Hey, this chapter's just plot development, but its pretty darn important in the long run... lots of nice innuendos to look out for) Disclaimer: Same ole, same ole; I will never own them, but I will always love them. Warning: Mpreg… sooner or later, once I get past all this slow plot development. Authors Note: Ok, I lied. About two things. In Chapter 2, towards the end, I said autumn, but you know, its probably more like spring, so I’m sorry and I hope you all don’t mind if I just let that little bit slide and say its spring from now on… also; so much for book canon, its been too long since I picked the book up, but I did go out and see the third movie, and LOVED it! So, as with the previous chapters, more movie canon, save for the little romantic bits I add here and there, and the dang parts they didn’t include in the theatrical release. And I’m extremely sorry it’s been so long… I’m such a hypocrite, growing more impatient for my favourite fan fic to be updated while my own story sits collecting dust and bugs in my computer. Well, finally the third chapter is here! Dang the randomness of a writer’s niche. Okay, enough apologies, its time for the story! A stern knock penetrated the soft quiet of Éomer’s gentle slumber. He stirred and rolled over, wanting to sleep more, but the knock persisted. With a yawn, the young man opened his eyes and stared out the window and saw nothing but the pink of a breaking red dawn filtering into the small, bare bedchamber. “My Lord Éomer, the sun rises. The king calls a meeting.” Éomer heard the strong voice of Gamling through the thick wooden door. “Aye, Gamling. I’m awake.” He replied. He lingered on his back for a moment on the straw mattress, and the pleasant thoughts of the eve before entered his mind; unexpected, but always welcome. He remembered the sweet scent of the elf and the supple touch of his lips, and thought to himself, how wonderful this being was. He’d been with countless others, but few had he ever shared a kiss with, for a kiss was something to be shared among lovers, not among brothers in arms. And none of those he had ever dared to cross lips with could possibly compare to the tender, velvety caress of Legolas’ sweet mouth. He closed his eyes and wandered back to that rainy last night on the parapet, and he remembered the gentle scent of the elf’s skin, the fine texture of his soft hair, and the beautiful work of art that was Legolas’ body. He envisioned Legolas standing before him, his silver silk tunic open, his eyes darkened with lust, his hair tousled. He imagined the soft skin covering the hard, toned muscles beneath, and he remembered the light, elven smell of Legolas’ body. Sadly, Éomer’s moment of reminiscence could not last long. As a loud din of armoured, boisterous fighters clanked up the stone hall his mind snapped back to his current location and he remembered suddenly the meeting. He opened his eyes again, and sat up on the bed and heaved a sigh. He noticed the dampness of his wet clothes, and looked at the bed, and mentally kicked himself for having fallen asleep in wet clothing. He didn’t have a change of clothes, so he just put his armour on over the damp set of clothes he wore. He shuddered as the clammy cotton shirt was pressed against his body, and the wet wool over tunic irritated his skin. He knew it was foolish to wear wet clothes in the early spring, but he did not care so much. After donning his armour, Éomer checked about the small room to see if he had forgotten anything, and when he saw nothing but an untidy bed, he proceeded out the door and up the hall to the keep. Upon his arrival, he noticed the gathering of many of Rohan’s officers, Gamling, Grimbold, and others. He noticed the ill-mannered, but somehow amusing, dwarf sitting at a table enjoying a small personal feast, his eating the only sound in the room. Aragorn stood near him, smoking a pipe, and Gandalf sat to the right of Théoden, deep in thought. He saw also Legolas, and his heart stopped. The fair elf was leaning against a pillar, and he looked as clean and perfect as only an elf could after battle. Éomer caught Legolas’ eye for just a moment, and thought he saw a small smile, but couldn’t be sure before his uncle spoke. “Well, now that we are all here,” Théoden’s eyes met Éomer’s, and the marshal realised with a slight twinge of guilt that they had been waiting upon him. He nodded apologetically and took his place at his uncle’s side as he focused his thoughts on the current situation. He had become much better at focus over the years. “We can discuss just what to do with this wizard who’s caused us so much trouble. Saruman’s army is destroyed, but he could create another in short time.” “It was not a long time that he spent creating his first army. Less than a year. But it was still months.” Gandalf said quietly to Théoden, but his eye, Éomer noticed, was upon Aragorn. “Then we have no choice but to destroy Saruman before he can muster his forces.” The ranger replied. “It is a short ride to Isengard from here, but we still must consider the women and the children.” Gamling said to the gathering. “Surely they would rather return to Edoras than stay here while the men confront Saruman at his castle. And that road is long and treacherous.” Éomer considered all these things, and was ready to give his ideas, but Gandalf interrupted his thoughts. “You have little choice but to send an escort back to Edoras with the women and children, but you cannot let Saruman regain any of his strength.” He now turned to Théoden. “Send a group with them back to the city, but keep much of your force with you for your confrontation with Saruman.” With these last few words he glanced at Éomer and returned his eyes to the king. Théoden considered this, and responded in his usual determined voice. “Éomer, you’re Éored will come with me to Isengard to fight this wizard.” The king’s eyes met those of the other officer’s. Gamling, you will come as well. You others will escort the women and the children back to Edoras. We will return in as short of time as possible.” He now turned to Gandalf, and something slightly in his tone. “We may need your assistance with this wizard.” Éomer could barely imagine what went on in Théoden’s mind now. He couldn’t imagine having his mind controlled, but he remembered Gríma. The snake had used his magic on a younger, more easily convinced Éomer, convinced him of things that could never be true. He shuddered at the small flash of a deeply buried memory, and pushed it from his mind. Gimli, with is mouth full of bread, replied for Gandalf. “Of course he’ll help. He’s got a bit of a score to settle with Saruman.” Éomer eyed Gandalf curiously, and noticed the look on the wizard’s face. Something told him that his dealings with Saruman were things not to be shared with the entire council. He knew the feeling. “Yes, we will accompany you to Isengard. It would be wise to leave in a few hours. Haste is important in these days.” The wizard replied curtly. “Very well then. We shall ride within the hour.” He now turned to look at the officers. “You men ready the women and children and the provisions. Be ready to depart by midday.” With those final words, he stood and signalled the closure of the meeting. As the men left the room to perform their individual duties, Éomer caught Legolas’ eye and slipped into the darkness of the hallway, beckoning the elf to follow. As Legolas approached, Éomer seized his chance. He pulled the elf by the front of the tunic into his kiss, and caressed the elf’s lips with his own. Legolas wrapped his arms around Éomer’s waist, and the man regretted donning his armour, for it diminished the sensitivity of the elf’s touch. He let his tongue explore Legolas’ mouth, and savoured the sweet flavour of the exotic elven taste. The elf was simply amazing. A curt clearing of the throat came from down the hall, and Éomer jumped back, breaking the kiss. He blushed in shame as he saw Éowyn leaning against the corridor wall, a smirk on her face. She crossed her arms playfully, and said in a sarcastic tone: “Well, well! What have we here?” Éomer’s blush deepened, and he looked shyly at Legolas to see his reaction, and was shocked to see that the elf seemed to be sharing Éowyn’s smirk. He suddenly was more hurt than shameful. He glared at his sister and felt a spasm of pain at the fact that he had been played by his own flesh and blood and one he felt so much joy in being with. “You planned this?” He asked softly as his eyes fell to the floor. Éowyn’s face cleared, and she placed a hand on her brother’s shoulder. “Of course not! I only stumbled upon you two.” Éomer looked up at Éowyn, his pain evident in his eyes. He did not want to be so vulnerable, but he knew that he was easily hurt by a stab to his open heart. But he saw that her face was sincerely caring, and that she had meant no harm in her jest. “She knows, Éomer.” Legolas’ voice penetrated the awkward silence. Éomer looked at Legolas, and the elf intertwined his fingers with the man’s. “If not for your sister, I would not have known that our likings for each other could have developed into more.” Éomer looked at his sister in shock, and realised that she had only ever been trying to help him. He embraced her with his free arm, and smiled in relief. When he pulled away, he noticed, a slight sadness in his sister’s eyes, but it was masked by happiness for her brother. “You two are beautiful together.” She smiled and turned to walk away. Éomer watched her go, and when she had left he turned to Legolas. He saw deep in the elf’s fathomless blue eyes a beautiful caring that he had never seen in a lover before. Granted, Legolas was not his lover, but he wished for it with all his soul. But as well as caring, he saw a wariness that he felt as well, and he knew what was on the elf’s mind. “You fear that someone less supportive than my sister will find us.” It was more a statement than a question, and Legolas nodded in agreement. “Yes. Many I have met do not take kindly to this type of a relationship.” Legolas peered into Éomer’s eyes, noting the deeply rooted complexity of this particular man. “Aye. When I was a child two men were hanged for it.” He looked at Legolas darkly, and thought of how much went on that was never seen as innocent men were killed. Legolas noted the change of expression in Éomer’s eyes, from dark to pain, but only for a split second. He decided not to dwell on it. “What do you suggest we do?” “Keep it secret. Discretion is the key.” “As with many things.” The elf responded softly. Éomer smiled gently, and kissed Legolas softy upon the lips. “Will you ride with us to Isengard?” “Of course. Aragorn, Gimli and Gandalf intend to go. And you’ll go.” Legolas intertwined his spare hand in Éomer’s tangled blond hair. He smiled slightly at the tangles, and Éomer grinned in return. He caught on quickly, and smiled wider. “I’ll run a comb through it before we ride, if you like, but it’ll just get messed up again under the helmet.” Éomer cocked an eyebrow. Legolas smirked. “Ah, you men and your messy hair.” He wrapped his arms around Éomer’s neck and kissed him passionately, his fingers still tangled in his lover’s hair.