Never Be The Same

You led me here,
then I watched you disappear.
You left this emptiness inside
and I can't turn back time
No, stay!
Nothing compares to you.
Nothing compares to you.

~ Red

Both Eomer and Legolas jumped to their feet as the White Lady entered, Eomer wiping crumbs from his lap. She stared at them as she registered the slightly sheepish look on Eomer's face, a flicker of something like embarrassment on the elf's. Eomer crossed the room to her, hands extended, breaking the awkward silence.

"Eowyn!" he said jovially, "I am completely at your disposal today! Does the Queen have yet another change to the ceremonies?" He reached down and kissed her cheek, while the elf, suddenly realizing that he was shirtless, felt the tips of his ears burn.

Her eyes flickered over the elf, then narrowed slightly, as she turned back to her brother. "I didn't mean to disturb you," she said, her voice suddenly very quiet. "I'll come back later."

"No, my Lady, I was just leaving," the elf almost stammered. "Thank you again, Eomer King, for all your help." Then, to their consternation, he slipped out the window, the drapes flickering in his wake.

"I wish he would stop doing that," Eomer muttered under his breath.

"Running off?" Eowyn asked, looking intently at her brother's face. "Or running about half naked?"

"Using windows as doors. It's uncanny how he shimmies about the place." Eomer said, leading Eowyn to the seat at the table the elf had so recently vacated. "Would you like tea?"

"Eomer," she said, in that voice sisters reserve especially for their brothers. "What is going on?"

"We were just finishing breakfast," he told her. "We talked the night away, but sometimes good company is better for the soul than sleep. Did you sleep well, Eowyn?" he asked, pouring her a cup.

"Don't try to distract me again, Eomer. I'm worried about you, brother. What is going on with the elf?" Her voice was tender, and she reached out to pat his arm.

"Nothing. We're friends, I keep telling you that, why won't you believe me?" he asked, covering her hand with his for a moment, squeezing it with warmth at her concern, then placing the cup before her.

"Perhaps it's the way his eyes follow you, all the time," she said, absently sipping at the tea. She frowned at it's tepidness and put it away from her. "You need to be careful, Eomer. You're King in Rohan now, you have to take this sort of thing very seriously."

"What sort of thing?" Eomer asked, meeting her gaze and holding it steadily. "Having a friend who cares about how I'm feeling?"

"No, having a dalliance with an elf who's going to leave with the dwarf while you have to consider who you're going to marry. The succession must be protected after all." Eowyn did not flinch at the hardness of her words, nor did her brother.

"There's no dalliance, nothing like that at all." Eomer said, his heart sinking, as the image of that neatly made bed flashed in his mind. "How can I forget about getting married when you're not only doing it yourself in a few days, but every time I turn around you or Arwen or Aragorn has yet another candidate, shining, virtuous, a veritable paragon of womanhood," he told her with forced jocularity as he sank down into his chair.

"And how will you choose if you spend all your free time with Legolas?" she asked him gently. "This is the perfect opportunity for you to meet eligible women, to get to know them." She reached across the table to take his hands in hers, holding them firmly. "It's not just you, Eomer. It's the whole of Rohan on your shoulders."

"I never forget it," he replied, in a bitter whisper. "I know my duty, Eowyn. Please, don't try to force me into an arrangement with a woman I barely know."

"It would have been so much easier on you if Theodred had lived..." she began, pity in her voice, her hands firm in his.

"But he didn't. And I must take his place, unworthy as I am." Eomer said bleakly. "I have Higa and Eothain to help, and yes, I must have an heir." He sighed "Legolas has it easy, he doesn't have to worry about that."

"You do," Eowyn said, mercilessly, trying to force his mind of the elf. "You'll find the right girl, Eomer, I know you will. It's not like there have never been women that have caught your eye, after all." She winked. "That little brunette back in your teens, for instance."

"Yes, but not my heart," he sighed. "You'd not have me rush into a political arrangement with no thought of happiness, sister?"

"Of course not, Eomer," her eyes softened. "I wish you to be as happy as I am. Happier. But you need a consort who will be a help to you, a wife to run your house and give you children."

"For pity's sake, Eowyn, we've lost everyone except each other and I don't want to fight with you!" He stood and moved to kiss her cheek affectionately. "You will never know how grateful I am that you and Faramir have found happiness together. But can I not have a little time to get used to the changes that have taken place in my life?" He spread his hands in front of her, a gesture of pleading he'd have shown to no one else.

She reached up to brush back the hair that had fallen into his eyes. "Eomer, please, I'm not fighting with you. I'm concerned. I know you, I love you, and I want you to promise me that you will let your head govern you in this."

"You worry needlessly, Eowyn," he said, a wry grin stretching his lips. "He's a good friend, that's all. I'm enjoying my time with him before duty calls me back to the Mark and he and Gimli begin their travels once again." He looked at her. "Why do you make him so nervous?" he asked.

She coloured. "You'll have to ask him," she said. "I really don't know."

"I know when you're lying to me, Eowyn," he chided tenderly.

"I know when you're lying to me as well," she told him, smiling. "I've seen your eyes when you look at him. Whenever he laughs, your face softens." She caught his hands again. "Look, Eomer, I understand, he's very handsome, and as you say, he's far from home and very fond of you. Just guard yourself, that's all. I don't want to see you make a fool of yourself or mistake friendship for something deeper."

"Tell me why he runs every time you come into the room." Eomer pressed.

She looked down. "He may have seen something neither of us would have wished him to witness," she said, cryptically.

"He insulted you?" Eomer exclaimed, rising from his chair.

"No, no, nothing like that! Please, Eomer don't press me on this." She looked up from lowered lashes. "He's said nothing to you?"

"Should he have?" Eomer asked, scowling, his hands clenching into fists.

"It was a piece of folly on my part," she explained. "I'd rather not speak of it. But I will tell you that before Uncle died, before Faramir, well, I allowed myself to be distracted by my own imagination."

Eomer started, and she continued, her voice low, looking down at the carpet. "I understand how easy it is to fall into dreams, Eomer. And the shame that it may bring."

"Eowyn," he said gently, lifting her face up to look at him, "there was a lot of madness in those fearful days. I'm sure you can have done nothing to dishonour yourself and anyone who may have knowledge of this particular thing would think no less of you. Let it go."

"The elf is still not for you, Eomer," she said firmly.

"And well I know it," he told her. "I wish you had been Queen, Eowyn. It would have made my life much easier," he sighed.

"A King must defend his people. I will never ride to battle again," she said softly. "You are much the better choice, brother."

"A King must have an heir. You would have been the better choice there, sister."

"Eomer, I know how hard it is to govern your heart. But in this you must be strong. You must make your choice from the women available, not let your attraction to the handsome, exotic, laughing elf sway you. You must let your head rule in this. I'm sorry it has to be this way. Had Theodred lived, well, perhaps then..." she trailed off, as her brother's eyes blazed.

"You know nothing of this, Eowyn!" he rumbled dangerously. "My life has been ripped from me and I see my duty as plain as you do! Allow me this friend, who, handsome or not, cheers me when the weight of what I have become threatens to crush me. And know this too, sister, I will not wed where I cannot love. Your children will be my heirs as well, don't forget."

Eowyn's bright eyes flashed at him. "They will be Faramir's children as well, his heirs, too! I'm trying to protect you, Eomer, not hurt you! You don't know the pain, the shame of thinking that affection is something deeper, to confessing that esteem, to having it thrown back in your face..." she broke off, all the colour draining from her face.

He pulled her up from her chair and embraced her. "The man who did that to you will die," he said softly.

"No," she told him. "You can never mention this to anyone."

"I'll kill the elf myself," Eomer said, knowing full well that wasn't who she meant.

"Aragorn was very kind," she said into his shoulder. "Now that I know Arwen, have felt Faramir's real, true love for me, I understand it completely. I was a fool, Eomer, and the worst was that I couldn't tell you, couldn't tell anyone. The humiliation was too great."

He rubbed her back soothingly, feeling her relax in his arms. "The shield-maidens have always been known for their pride, Eowyn." He kissed the top of her head. "And you the proudest of them all. As Aragorn brought you back from death's door, I shall forgive him this one time."

She chuckled and pulled away, looking up at him, her blue eyes filled with compassion. "I never want you to feel that way, Eomer," she said, reaching up to kiss his cheek.

"Oh, never worry about me, sister," he told her, grinning. "I will find my consort somewhere, and to oblige you, I shall spend the days left before the wedding getting to know some of these wonders of womanhood you have chosen for me."

xxXxx

"The gossip is in full force," Pip told the dwarf and elf three days later. "The word is that Eomer is choosing a bride while he's here, and every available woman and her mamma is in a panic."

The elf's eyes narrowed as the dwarf glanced at the hobbit over the table. They were sharing their usual ale, waiting for Merry to join them in the tavern.

"Who is the good money on?" the dwarf asked casually.

"There are a few that he's been spending quite a bit of time with. All are beautiful, kind, gentlewomen. All worthy of his honour, it's said." Pip told him, grinning over his tankard.

"You've got the inside information from Merry, I suppose," Gimli said.

Pip gave them an impudent smile. "Who do you think carries the picnic baskets and hold's the lady's bridle while she dismounts?" he chuckled. "But the strange thing is that Merry says Eomer is acting like a man going through the motions. It's all very proper and well chaperoned and the King hasn't said one word that could be taken as a promise." His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "He says Eomer is acting like this to keep the White Lady happy."

"The Lady Eowyn?" Gimli asked, risking a glance at the silent elf.

"She would want him settled before starting on her new life," Legolas pointed out. "They are very close, after all."

"Has he said anything to you, Legolas?" Pip asked.

"No, I haven't seen much of him lately," the elf replied calmly. Since his hurried departure that morning, he'd seen Eomer for no more than a few minutes at a time. Eomer had no time to stop and pass the time of day, claiming Eowyn was demanding all his attention. Even as he smiled his goodbyes to the elf, Legolas had seen the longing in the man's eyes. Considerate of the King's feelings, Legolas had stayed away, merely saying hello as they passed in the halls or the streets. If Eomer wondered that Legolas ran across his path so frequently, he kept it to himself.

"There's Merry now, we can ask him," Pip said, as the curly head of the hobbit bobbed through the crowd in the tavern. He crossed to their table, but instead of his usual wide and easy grin, he looked pensive.

"How are things with the King?" Gimli asked him, signalling for another round of ale.

Merry pulled out his pipe and packed it thoughtfully. "He's not himself, that's for sure," he replied. "In fact, I'm a little worried about him."

"What's wrong?" Legolas asked instantly.

Merry lit his pipe and inhaled deeply before answering. "He won't tell me, but I think all this marriage nonsense is getting to him. Not the Lady's," he added hurriedly, seeing the black look Gimli shot him, "but this other business about him picking a wife. I've seen men choose horses with more enthusiasm."

"I doubt he'll have found someone before he goes back to the Rohan," Gimli said.

Merry nodded. "Not out of this lot, at any rate. Not even a twinkle in his eye."

Legolas tried to ignore the prickle that ran down the base of his spine and sipped at his ale. Merry tilted his head and looked at the elf.

"Would you go and talk to him, Legolas?" he asked. "You always seem to cheer him up, and maybe you can make him see sense. After all, he doesn't need to get married the same week as the Lady Eowyn."

"He does value your counsel," Gimli said, nodding at his friend. "Perhaps he's rushing things to please her and could use a cool head and advice."

Legolas kicked the dwarf under the table. Gimli gave no notice, pulling out his own pipe. "He may need a friend to confide in," he said placidly.

"Of course I'll go," Legolas said, looking at the worried hobbits. "Once I finish my ale." Merry sighed in relief.

"He'll listen to you. At least you can get him to see the humour in the situation. Nobody makes him laugh like you do, Legolas, not even me."

xxXxx

Eomer sat with his head in his hands, thinking over the days activities. Obedient to Eowyn's wishes, he'd spent the afternoon with a party of the nobles of Gondor, heavily skewed in favour of unmarried ladies. A pre-wedding tea, she had called it. Aragorn had watched him sympathetically, even going so far as to call him away from one or another of the fawning, pretty girls. Nice girls, most of them. Eomer had quickly weeded out the ones who were interested in the crown. He paid attention to the ones who had asked about him, about Rohan, about how the kingdom was faring. But none had made him smile with a a quick and quiet joke or witty observation. One had been very kind, asking how he was faring after his bereavement. But he caught himself noticing that her hair was dark curls, not the starlight pulled back into braids he'd half expected from her tone.

He sighed and stood up, walking over to the open window, bare feet padding on the carpet, pulling his robe closer against the night breezes, and looking out at the stars. Eowyn's words had gone to the core of him and forced him to realize that what he wanted, he couldn't have, even had the elf been free. He had a duty to his land and his forefathers, and somewhere out there, there must be a woman who would be right for him.

"Eomer King?" Legolas called softly, knocking on the door. "May I have a moment?" He opened it slightly and poked his head in.

"Come in," Eomer said evenly. "What brings you by, Legolas?"

"Just to see how you are," the elf said, coming in and shutting the door behind him. He crossed the room to the hearth, where the chairs he and Eomer usually used sat. Merry's nightly offering of pastry sat beside the carafe of wine on the little end table between the chairs. The elf smiled at the half eaten berry and cream one on the side of the plate. "Merry is worried about you."

"He needn't be," Eomer said, still looking out the window. "How is Gimli?"

"Fine," Legolas answered, puzzled at the question. "He sends his best. I left him in the tavern with Pip and Merry, smoking those foul pipes of theirs."

Eomer smiled at that, and turned to face the elf. "Would you like wine?"

"Thank you, I can pour," Legolas said. He did so and handed the cup to the man, his keen eyes searching Eomer's face. "Oh, Mer," he said quietly, "what are you doing to yourself?" The words came out before he could stop them. "Forgive me, but you look so unhappy!" he quickly added.

"It is that obvious?" Eomer asked, tossing back the wine in one quick movement and holding out the cup for another. Legolas refilled it and Eomer sipped at it, to the elf's relief.

"You have been the subject of some considerable rumours that past few days," Legolas told him, taking his usual chair.

"You mean I've been the prize stallion at the fair," Eomer corrected him, waving his cup about. "Every woman under eighty and over eighteen has been paraded in front of me. The names all run together, but a few have stood out."

Legolas' mouth went dry and he sipped cautiously, wetting his lips before saying, "Tell me about those."

Eomer laughed bitterly, striding across the carpet. "There was a lovely blonde. Very well born, they tell me. Scared to death of horses. Can you believe that?"

The elf smiled in spite of himself. "That could be problematic," he agreed.

"How can anyone be afraid of horses?" Eomer sputtered. "Then there was a girl, dark hair and eyes as blue as cornflowers. Whispered that she could break her engagement at a moment's notice."

"Mercenary little minx," Legolas replied, starting to enjoy Eomer's summary of the women he'd met.

"Made me wonder if I should slip a word into Arwen's ear to have her food tasted."

"Arwen could break her in half, poisoned or not," Legolas supplied. "Elves are nowhere near as delicate as they look. Arwen could take you down."

Eomer chuckled. "I'll make it a point to stay on her good side, then. And if I hear one more girl gush about how much she wants a family and children, I'm going to be sick. All their married sisters have oodles of children, I would think that would give them enough little ones to look after."

"Ah, that's to let you know, discreetly of course, that they come of good breeding stock," Legolas laughed, tapping the side of his nose.

"By the Valar, Legolas, it's going to drive me mad! If I hadn't promised Eowyn..." he broke off, looking carefully at the elf. Legolas nodded at him. "Oh, well, I have no secrets from you, my friend," Eomer continued. "She's very anxious that I find a wife."

"Surely she wants you to find a woman you can be happy with," the elf said, earnestly. "You're not going to find anyone with this rushing around and blurring cavalcade of ladies."

"It's the succession," Eomer said, falling into his chair, his voice thick with frustration. "She's worried to death that something will happen and Rohan will be left leaderless."

"But she is your heir right now," Legolas pointed out, "with Faramir to help her. And if she is blessed with children..."

"Theodred was heir. It allowed Eowyn and I a certain freedom. Now, the cares of the Mark fall on us." Eomer said, his eyes tinged with sadness. "Well, me."

"And you are young and strong and healthy. I don't see you falling in battle any time soon. Don't rush yourself into this, Eomer. Once Eowyn is finally married," and Eomer reached out to clink his goblet with the elf's, "she'll be too busy in her life to try and settle yours."

"Do you really think so?" Eomer asked doubtfully, looking down at the remains of the wine in his cup.

"Certainly. She wants you to be happy. She loves you so very much, she only wants what's best for you." The elf sighed. "It almost makes me wish I had a sister, but the dwarf does as well for a wanderer like me, I guess."

"But how?" Eomer asked, forcefully, slamming his goblet down on the end table harder than he meant. "How did you slip your father's control, his plans for you?"

Legolas stared at him for a moment. Then he reached across the space to lay his hands on the man's forearms. "I saw an opportunity and I took it. This is my life, Mer, not his. I do not have to follow his path, I make my own."

"And are you happy?" Eomer's hazel eyes blazed as he looked deeply into the sky blue of the elf's.

Legolas' eyes widened for a moment, and a soft smile crossed his lips. "Yes," he replied gently. "I am happy. Right here and right now." He softly stroked the man's arm. "Are you, Mir nin?"

"I'm confused," Eomer confessed. "I can't see the best way to go."

"It will all come clear in time," the elf told him. "You are losing your sister, you have been thrust into new duties and responsibilities, you are not a selfish man, Eomer, you will do what is right for your land, your people, your family." He reached up to cup the man's face in his hand. "Just don't make yourself miserable trying to solve all your problems at once. Patience, my friend, is what you need. Time solves many things that seem insurmountable."

He stood, still gently holding Eomer's cheek and placed a chaste kiss on the top of his head. "I am always here to help if I can." Legolas told him. "A word from you will bring me at any time." He straightened and looked out the window at the stars. "Think about what you and your sister mean to each other," he said. "Your bond is too strong to be broken by small disagreements. I bid you goodnight, Mer. Sleep well."

He was almost at the door when Eomer whispered, in a hoarse voice, "Stay?"

Legolas, his heat pounding, turned to face the man, but having deduced a lot of what Eomer hadn't said about Eowyn, shook his head sadly. "I should spend the night in my own room. I would not have any repercussions fall on you." He went out into the hall, shutting the door firmly behind him.