As a brother


The sun flashed on his helm as he fell, and she laughed with the dazzlement of it, at the feel of grass beneath her lightly-shod feet as she ran to his aid. His words were clearly, drolly spoken as he always spoke when with her -

"Don't worry, meant this to happen, don't panic"

- this jesting, doughty dwarf-lord who lay dizzy and sun-struck, helpless at her feet. For a moment Eowyn stood above him, lips working with the effort not to laugh, then he returned courtesy to her by opening his own mouth and releasing an earth-shaking guffaw.

"Aid, my lady, I beseech you. Ai, that it should come to this."

Her hand was in his, and he was heavy with the weight of much armour so she was dragged down close to his lips, his bushy beard, the smell of clover and new grass that clung to his shoulders. There were leaves in his beard and his helm was disarrayed and once again she was disarmed by the presence, the sheer life of him.

"Of your courtesy, my lady," he said again and Eowyn realised, startled, that his voice was very low so as not to offend her ears. She was still crouched over him, her hand warm in his and the nearness of him did not twist her gut in pained pleasure - it was soothing, much as in the past she and Eomer had lain together after tumbling down grassy hills for the simple joy of it.

Much in the past, joy had been simple.

"Lady Eowyn," said the dwarf-lord gently, and suddenly it was simple again. It seemed natural to her that his lips were so close, close enough to reach out and take comfort from a gentle brotherly kiss. Much as Eomer would comfort her, when her head was spinning after their falls down the hill.

But her brother was gone - yet this remained, and with that thought she bent further, intending to exorcise hurt.

"Ai, lady." The dwarf-lord's hand tightened over hers and his eyes flashed wisdom, sad and brown, before he lifted himself up and left her kneeling where he had fallen, her hand still safe in his.

Another moment then, his lips brushed her knuckles and his eyes, when they sought her out, his eyes were the eyes of Eomer before he rode away.

"Thank you." said the dwarf-lord softly. Such a voice from one so armoured, so fierce in his seeming. So like Eomer -

"Have a care," she found herself saying, found her fingertips reaching upwards to stroke the bristly hairs that started beneath his ears. "Even small hills are treacherous to one unused to riding."

His smile flashed and then he laughed with their easy camaraderie. "Said I not that I meant this to happen?"

And there was another moment that died before its flowering, for behind him a shadow fell.

Eowyn looked up to the elf-lord borne by Arod, and her hand fell away as though caught in some mischief.

"Come on Gimli," said the elf-lord. "There is scouts work to be done." And Eowyn blushed, then stood in white-hot anger at the cool disdain in the elf-lord's glance.

But the lord Gimli's thumb caressed her palm one last time. "I come," he said, his eyes still locked with hers. "Will you help me mount?"

The elf-lord interrupted. "Shall not Arod kneel?"

Lord Giml looked then, away from her and over his shoulder, and his smile was sunshine so fair it dazzled.

"Would you be unhorsed, friend Legolas? Even small hills here are treacherous footing - and I, you know, am a very uncertain rider."

The elf-lord's lips curved in a certain smile.

"But you do not fall when you ride with me," he said, and reached out a fair hand for one that no longer touched hers.

Not even as a brother might. And still she saw him mount another horse and with no glance back at her, ride away.

~*~