When I'm Away From You
When I'm away from you well, I can't stay still
My thoughts won't move from the way I feel
It happens time and time again
And the circle never ends
When I'm away from you
Well it hurts to say
My sense has gone so far away
I'm up all through the night
And I can't tell wrong from right
~ The Quireboys
With the harvest successfully gathered in over the next month, there was a sigh of relief throughout Rohan. It might be a lean winter, but they weren't going to starve. Riders were sent out to see what villages needed to secure homes against the coming cold. Knitting needles clicked endlessly as women worked on socks, hats, scarves. Malwyn presented Gimli with a knitted cap Beowyn had made herself.
"My thanks, my lady," he told her, holding the lumpy thing with a broad smile. "But surely the children have greater needs..." She held up her hands in protest.
"Bless you, Master Dwarf, they've all been kitted out already," she told him, with a twinkle. "In fact, Fritha asked me to make sure you had one since your iron hat won't be all that warm. Herroth's banged a bit of broken spoon into a helm for her poppet, you see."
"We dwarves are hardy folk, Lady Malwyn," he told her. "But if it will give the wee one ease," he finished, pulling the grey cap over his ears.
He wore it proudly under his helmet all the way to Helm's Deep, when they finally left later that week. Eomer had decided to join them to judge best how much more could be done on the repairs before the cold set in, and see what was needed in that part of the Mark.
Since Hroth was growing by leaps and bounds, and followed the elf everywhere, Gimli wondered what arrangements the elf would make for the dog. Even though, in Eomer's opinion, Legolas spoiled the little thing outrageously, the pup was more well behaved than many a full grown dog he'd seen. There was no whining or excessive barking, and it seemed to take only a glance from the elf for the dog to come or stay, sit or lay down on his rug. There was no question in Legolas' mind about leaving him behind while they went to see the caves. So, several days before their departure, with Hroth in his arms, he had a long chat with Arod. Eomer, curious and taking his time to groom Firefoot over in the next stall, would have given much to understand the conversation. Arod sniffed Hroth, who sniffed him back, and Legolas went on, speaking seriously to each in Sindarin. The three seemed to reach some kind of accord, since the elf put the puppy down in the stall with the horse, where they sniffed, nickered, and yipped at each other for a few moments.
"Eomer King," the elf said, mindful of the others around, "where may I procure an old saddlebag?"
"What's wrong with yours?" Eomer asked him, pulling the brush through Firefoot's tail with long strokes.
"They are also Gimli's, and I am unsure if he will approve of the use I will put them to," the elf said, a look of concern bringing his dark brows together. Eomer smiled at the elf's cadence once again.
"Check with Higa," he told him, "he should have something decrepit enough for you."
Higa did and Legolas spent an evening going over the old bag, tightening seams where needed, making the modifications he wanted, and in the end, packing for himself and the dwarf.
The morning they left, Gimli, fairly dancing to be gone, took one look at the gamboling pup behind the elf and raised a hand.
"You can't bring him, Legolas," he said, gently. "He'll not be able to keep up. Best he stays here with the children."
Legolas gave him that smug half-grin of his and fastened the saddlebags on Arod. Once all was secure, he whistled and the pup came running. He scooped the little creature up and plopped him in one of the bags.
"You're not serious!" Eomer said, as Arod didn't even flicker an ear.
The elf shrugged. "It's padded, he'll be comfortable enough."
"He'll suffocate!" Gimli protested.
"No, I've made holes here and here," the elf pointed them out, "and he's got a piece of rawhide to chew. He'll be fine."
"What about the other?" Eomer asked, his beard not hiding his grin at all. "He's still very young."
"Oh, he'll just bark if he needs to. Then, Gimli, you merely scoop him out and hold him at arm's length. We talked it all over."
"Elven magic," Eomer said, shaking his head.
"No, lad, Elven madness." Gimli retorted. "Well, let's get on with it, since you're determined to bring the beastie with you."
Legolas winked at Eomer as he boosted the dwarf up onto Arod's back and then swung himself up. Eomer, absently rubbing the ring on his finger with his thumb, found that the sight didn't bother him in the least. The more he worked with the dwarf, the more he found himself respecting and liking him. Gimli was like an uncle, an opinion on everything, and a knack of seeing through to the heart of a problem. He no longer wondered at Legolas' deep love for the dwarf. He was beginning to share it. Many times a chance word dropped by the dwarf in passing gave him a whole new perspective on things.
Their trip was uneventful, and nothing, not even the lateness of their arrival could stop Gimli from walking very quickly to the caves, Legolas taking long strides to keep up with him. At the entrance, Gimli lifted his lamp and said simply, "Look there, lad."
Legolas had no words. Nothing the dwarf had said could have prepared him for the beauty that spread out before them. He was conscious of tears streaming down Gimli's face and felt a lump in his own throat. He reached out, placed a hand on the dwarf's shoulder and squeezed.
"Aye, lad," Gimli said, looking up at him. They stood in silence for hours, gazing in wonder. Finally the elf found his voice.
"Shall we go down?" he whispered. It seemed almost sacrilegious to speak normally here.
Gimli shook his head. "We go in tomorrow morning. You must see it properly, with the sunlight reflecting down."
Another hour passed and reluctantly, they left, anxious to begin exploration the next day. Legolas found Eomer with Hroth on the bed, the big man already asleep and snoring. He gave the pup a few minutes of attention, then crawled into bed where he lay for a long time thinking about what lay beneath them before he drifted off.
Eomer's jump and muttered curse woke him the next morning. Hroth, burrowing beneath the covers, made his way up to elf's chest and licked him.
"That dog," Eomer said, crossly, "chews nothing but what you give him. Will you please tell me why he nibbles my toes? Are you conspiring with him?"
"You taste so good, Mir," Legolas said, his voice innocent, his eyes very wicked. "Surely you know that?"
Eomer laughed loudly, and the dog scrambled off the bed and headed for his rug as the man gathered up the elf in his arms.
xxXxx
They had been in the Hornburg for about three weeks when the rider came from Edoras. Eomer met him at the gates, among the scaffolding that was being taken down. The chill of frost was in the air and the rider's horse steamed.
"I've messages from King Aragorn," the rider said, pulling a leather pouch from his saddlebag. "I've been charged to see this gets to Master Gimli immediately."
"Is anything wrong?" Eomer asked the man, leading him into the keep and calling for someone to get the dwarf.
"No, my lord," the rider told him. "I've messages for you and the Prince as well, but, well, you can read for yourself." He handed over the packet. Eomer broke the seal and pulled out the folded paper with his name on it. He scanned the message quickly. Aragorn sent greetings, all was well in Gondor, and he hoped Eomer would be able to spare Gimli for a little while. He raised a brow and frowned.
He and the rider were seated at the table, sharing some wine when Gimli and Legolas came up from the depths. Gimli looked grumpy and Legolas concerned.
"Letters from Aragorn," Eomer told them, nodding to the pouch. They took theirs, and with a look of frustration at the elf, Gimli read his aloud.
Hail, Gimli, son of Gloin, Elf-friend,
"It's never good when they start with all your titles," Legolas said solemnly. The dwarf grunted and continued.
I hope this finds you well, old friend and ask your help in a matter than has just come to my attention. Thorin Stonehelm is sending a delegation of dwarves to meet with me and they shall be arriving within a week. I beg you, for old friendship's sake, to come and advise me. I know they are going to want to discuss Moria. Your counsel will be invaluable.
Aragorn
Legolas looked down at his own, a simple, short note, and laughed.
"What?" Gimli asked, with a sigh. Legolas handed him the sheet.
L,
By the Valar, convince him to come! You know the stubbornness of dwarves!
A.
Gimli smiled grimly and started muttering to himself in Khuzdul. Eomer poured him a glass of wine and handed it over. Legolas patted the dwarf on the shoulder.
"I love that man," the dwarf complained, "but his timing is horrible!"
"You'll go then?" Eomer asked him, glancing at the elf, who was engrossed in folding up the letters, and didn't notice.
"Aye, I'll go, knock some sense into those heads of theirs, and be back before the snow flies." Gimli said, reaching for his pipe. "Make sure no one touches a thing down there until I return, lad."
"You have my word, Gimli. Will you take Hroth, or will you leave him with me?" Eomer asked the elf.
Legolas looked up, startled.
"Where he goes, you go," Eomer said, nodding at Gimli, and the statement had none of the bitterness it had held only a couple of months ago. It was plain fact. "Hroth is getting a little big for the saddlebag and you'll probably make better time if I keep him with me. Do you want to talk to him about it?"
The elf looked away for a few moments, then looked back and grinned. "I guess I can trust you with him," he said.
Gimli looked between them, and sighed. "I guess we'll leave in the morning, Legolas," he said, shaking his head.
xxXxx
That night, Legolas stared out the window, watching the stars, while Hroth chewed on his rawhide and Eomer went over some paperwork. When he was finished, the big man stretched, and getting the comb out, started to untie the elf's braids.
"Why are you sending me away?" Legolas asked suddenly, not turning his head.
"I'm not, you're going with Gimli," Eomer answered evenly. "It won't be for long, you'll be back home before you know it."
"Dwarves take forever to decide anything," Legolas said. "It could be full winter by the time we get back."
"Hroth and I will be waiting for you." Eomer said, feeling the elf relax under the gentle strokes of the comb. "And you'll have a chance for a good visit with Aragorn and Arwen. I know how much you love both of them, I don't want you to get so wrapped up in things here in Rohan that you lose touch with your other friends." He paused. "Or with elfkind."
Legolas turned to stare at him. "What are you talking about?" he asked indignantly.
Eomer sighed and put down the comb. "Alright," he said, holding up his hands. "I want you to go and be able to enjoy yourself. To speak Sindarin to those who understand it. To do elf things with Arwen. To not have to put up with my thousand questions all the time. I want you to be happy. Have some fun."
"Elf things?" Legolas asked, raising his eyebrows. "What, exactly, did the dwarf say to you?"
"Nothing!" Eomer protested. "I just thought..."
"It was wrong, whatever you thought," Legolas said, interrupting. "I am happy, here with you. So I ask you again, why are you sending me away?"
"So you wouldn't have to choose!" Eomer told him, his temper flaring. "I didn't want you to think you couldn't go!"
"You couldn't keep me if I wanted to go!" Legolas shot back, eyes flashing. "I do what I want, Mir!"
"And by Eru, don't I know it!" Eomer retorted. "Here's the truth, then, love, I don't want you to go! I want you to stay and we'll go back to Edoras and look after things there and Gimli can spend the winter with Aragorn."
"Then why didn't you say that?"
"Because I know as well as you do that you're going. You wouldn't let him go by himself. And you'd be miserable without him. So I tried to make it easier for you."
"No, you don't get to do that," Legolas told him. "You have to let me make my own decisions. And I have to have the truth from you to do that."
"Even if it hurts you?"
"You promised me honesty," the elf said softly. "It never even crossed my mind to let Gimli go by himself, you're right. But I feel much better now, knowing that you're as unhappy about being separated as I am." He reached up to trace the line of Eomer's beard. "And that you understand why I have to go."
Eomer let out an exasperated sigh. "Meleth nin, why must you fight me when all I want is to make you happy?"
"Because, Mir," the elf said, pushing back the man's hair, "you have within you a very wide protective streak. I don't need protecting. I need your love. That makes me happy."
Eomer smiled and pulled the elf off the sill and into an embrace. "They do tend to get mixed up sometimes," he admitted.
xxXxx
Gimli and Legolas made the trip in easy stages, enjoying the freedom of the road once again, even if Gimli did complain constantly about being pulled from the caves so precipitately. The dwarf noticed that just before they reached the White City, Legolas began looking behind him, almost as if something were following them.
"What is it, lad?" he asked, noting that Arod did not seem to be worried.
"It's nothing," Legolas told him absently. Gimli grinned to himself.
"Well, don't you worry, we'll get Aragorn and the dwarves on good terms as quickly as we can and head back. Hroth and Eomer will look after each other, never fear."
"Yes, of course," Legolas said, with one more glance over his shoulder.
Aragorn and Arwen met them in front of the Citadel and they were both impressed at how much work had been done in the city. Rohan was not the only land busy with reconstruction.
"The dwarves arrived yesterday," Aragorn said, rolling his eyes at Gimli. "So far we've been engaged in the pleasantries, but now that you're here..."
Arwen hugged Legolas, and then pulled back to take a long look at him. She smiled, and then dropped her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said, very quietly, a faint blush of colour in her pale cheeks. The tips of his ears turned pink. "I shouldn't pry," she began, "but I wish you all joy."
He bent to her ear, and they conducted a rapid fire, whispered conversation in Sindarin. She hugged him again, nodded and looked over at Aragorn. "Legolas and I are going to catch up a bit," she called softly to her husband and the dwarf. "We'll be in my study."
Aragorn and Gimli nodded to them as they headed to greet the dwarves from Erebor, Gimli muttering about their timing all the the way.
Arwen called for refreshments, and having settled Legolas in one of the comfortable chairs and served him coffee, got herself relaxed on the divan opposite with a cup of herbal tea and looked at him.
"So? Tell me all about it," she said, with such love and understanding in her voice that Legolas found himself pouring out the frustrations of having fallen in love with the man to begin with, and his difficulties in adapting to loving a man instead of an elf. He kept certain things private, of course. Arwen didn't need to know everything about Eomer's past and his reaction to it, and if she guessed there was something deeper to his story, she wisely kept her own counsel.
Legolas found it a great relief to speak in unhesitating Sindarin, giving his thoughts the nuances and colours he had trouble with in Westron. He spoke of the small things, the things an elf would have known instinctively, and Eomer's endless questions about this celebration or that tradition. She encouraged him, told him of her own little problems with Aragorn, who, even having been raised by elves still did not completely understand their minds.
Legolas told her, with a rueful grin, about Eomer's attempt to make him visit Gondor. "I admit, now that I'm here, he was absolutely right," he said. "Things seem a little clearer, speaking with you."
"I'm glad you feel you can," she told him, her smile wide.
"Are they all like that?" Legolas sighed as he sipped at his second cup.
"Men?" Arwen asked, with a laugh in her voice. "I think so. I think they forget what we're capable of." He cocked an eyebrow at her. "We look fragile to them," she explained, grinning, "or so Faramir assures me."
He laughed loud and hard at that. Then his eyes changed, a hint of darkness filling them.
"Arwen, how is she really? Eowyn, I mean. They send little notes back and forth, when he writes to Faramir, and she sends little notes back, when Faramir writes, that she's well, and sends her love, but is she really..." he broke off, as something guarded entered Arwen's face. "I'm not asking for secrets," he assured her hastily. "But he worries..."
"She is well, Legolas. We are all adjusting to life in these new circumstances. I speak with her often, and I can assure you that she's, well, she's growing up." She smiled gently at him. "Just as you are, friend of my heart."
He snorted and drained his cup. She offered more, and he accepted.
"Do you not have coffee in the Mark?" she asked, pouring delicately.
"Rationing," he shrugged. "We're saving it for those out with the herds."
"I'll send some back with you," she winked. "A wedding gift."
"Must I share it?" he asked, with a small twinkle.
"No, I shall give you something else for Eomer." She lay her hand on his arm. "Some advice for you. He misses his sister, yes. Siblings, they can be your best friend and worst enemy rolled up into one." She smiled at him, her face lighting up at certain memories of her own brothers. "This breach will be mended, you must be patient. And, Legolas, hard as it for you, you must allow him to look after you."
"What?" He shook his head. "Arwen, he's got the whole of the Rohan to put back together, the people to care for, I don't know where we're going to ever find enough wood for all the building, this...problem with Eowyn, the last thing he needs is to worry about me!"
"You've got the arrow the wrong way round," she told him. "Let me see if I can explain this about men, for you must understand this from his point of view. You give him so much, comfort and heart's ease at the end of a hard day, wise counsel, laughter, joy in life. He loves you above all others. So all his instincts are to care for you. Including protecting you." She paused to let that sink in. "You are faster, stronger, of course, but that is exactly why he must feel able to look after you. A marriage that is not between equals is doomed, Legolas, and you can help him so much in this. With another elf, it would not be a problem, but with a man..." she trailed off, looking away for a moment.
"Arwen?" he asked, alarmed.
She laughed, and it was like silver bells in the afternoon sunshine. "He will try to make you sleep when you're not tired, eat when you're not hungry and save you from any trifling problem that may come along. If I were to tell you that, you would think I was treating you as a child or an imbecile. He doesn't understand, that it may be days before you need to sleep or eat. Each little act or demand is his way of saying he loves you. He's taking care of you. Let him, Legolas, for the time is so short..."
She broke off again, and as they looked at each other, they both recognized the pain the other was trying to hide.
xxXxx
Stonehelm's dwarves were stubborn. There were treaties to arrange, trade agreements, so many little things. Gimli's temper grew short, but at Aragorn's patient insistence, he was able to keep it under control and keep from "chucking the whole lot back to Erebor" as he threatened to do in Aragorn's study after a day's hard negotiations.
Legolas and Arwen spent many afternoons together, but her duties did call her away. She was still in great demand, her healing presence still much needed in this city that had taken so much pain in the war. Legolas found himself spending more time alone. He returned to his former haunts, up in the high places, or riding Arod through the cold air of the early winter.
Gimli, of course, noticed that he was becoming quieter and less outgoing than he had been. He stayed in their room, idly flipping through the same book time and again, not seeing the words. But the dwarf's questions were always answered by a smile, and a reassuring quip. Arwen looked at him curiously, during their walks or over tea, but he was all affability with her. So he was able to fool them both for a few weeks, slipping out after Gimli had fallen asleep or pretending to be in any one of a half dozen other places when he was wanted.
But when he disappeared completely, for three nights in a row, Arwen took matters into her own hands. Much as she may have given up for love of Aragorn, she was still an elf. In nondescript clothing and an old cloak, throwing off the Queen in concern for her friend, she was able to track him down unhindered in the sleet, to where he was perched up on the top of the tombs of the fallen elite of Gondor.
"Legolas!" she cried, as she climbed up beside him. He was curled in on himself, looking out toward Rohan. His hair was frozen with the ice in the air and he shivered. He paid no attention to her, and she shook him by the shoulder, taking his hand. "Legolas!" she said, moving into his field of vision. His hand was warm, it wasn't the cold that made him shake so.
"Arwen?" he asked, confused, as his eyes came back into focus.
"Why?" she asked him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "Can you stand?" He gripped her arm with a hand that trembled.
"Arwen? I can't..." he tried to concentrate on her face. "I can't...feel...find", he slumped down again.
Her eyes took on a look of horror, and picking him up bodily, she threw him over her shoulders and carried him to the edge of the roof. Quickly making her way back down and to his rooms, she found Gimli just returned from seeking him out in the baths.
"What's wrong?" Gimli demanded, as Arwen put the shaking elf on the bed. "What's happened to him."
"Gimli, I know you are a strong and hardy folk, and this may be difficult for even you, but he needs you. You need to take him home. Right now." Her eyes were still tinged with fear and she spoke softly, gathering up their belongings from the press stuffing them haphazardly into the saddlebags.
"Mirkwood?" Gimli asked, confused, fear gripping at his heart. She stopped at placed a hand on his cheek.
"Dear Gimli, forgive me, I spoke in haste. You must take him back to Eomer. As fast as possible. I will explain as we get Arod."
xxXxx
Eomer kept himself so busy during their absence that he barely had time to miss them. At least that's what he told Hroth, as he lay down at night, the puppy curled up beside him. Legolas would probably be angry with both of them for that breach of training, but he was willing to risk it. And Hroth was a good listener.
He'd just gotten to sleep when he heard Malwyn's voice and her insistent banging on his door. "Eomer, lad, get up!" she called.
"Come," he called, pushing Hroth off his chest and sitting up.
She opened the door, still dressed, despite the lateness of the hour. Her face was worried. "There's a rider coming in, fast," she told him, meeting his eyes squarely. "It's Arod."
He was up instantly, throwing on his clothes, as Hroth skidded across the floor to follow him.
Eomer was halfway to the doors of the Hall, thrown open by Malwyn with her lantern, when Arod clattered up the steps in front of him. The horse was exhausted, and Gimli, holding on to the reins behind the unresponsive elf, looked grimmer than he ever had.
"What is it, what's happened?" Eomer cried, looking from one to the other. "Gimli?" At the sound of Eomer's voice, Legolas seemed to come to himself for a moment, lifting his head, and his eyes were terrible. Eomer's heart dropped to his toes.
"That's a journey I don't want to repeat," the dwarf told him, fear colouring his voice. "Take him, Eomer, the lad can barely sit the horse, let alone stand."
Eomer lifted the elf as if he weighed no more than a child, cradling him against his chest. "What's wrong with him?"
Malwyn held the bridle as Higa, who had been in the Hall, helped the stiff dwarf down. "Take him to your rooms, put him to bed, I'll pop by in a moment," Gimli said, wincing as he stretched protesting muscles.
"What do you need, Gimli?" Malwyn asked.
"Something warm, I'm chilled to the bone," he told her. "Higa, if you'd take Arod and give him the best care, I'd count it a great kindness," he said to the man, who nodded, leading the horse down to the stables to start cooling him down.
"Malwyn, if you'd have some coffee and whatever you've got on the back of the fire brought up to Eomer's rooms, I'll explain it all to you on the way there," he yawned. "The Lady Arwen said he'd recover once he got back home."
Eomer had gone down the halls at a dead run and shouldered his way through the doors. He gently placed the elf on the bed, and pulled off his boots, stripped the freezing clothes from him and piled on the covers.
"Meleth nin," he whispered, as Hroth jumped up beside Legolas. "What happened? Please, tell me what's going on!"
"Mir?" Legolas asked, his voice very far away. "Are you really there?"
Eomer grabbed the elf's hand and held it against his chest. "Right here, love."
"And I'm awake, yes?" the elf mumbled.
"I think so," Eomer said, confused. "Why?"
"And you are still alive?" Legolas asked, his voice stronger.
"Last time I checked, yes," Eomer said, with a note of exasperation.
The elf's reaction nearly scared him more than his lassitude. Legolas grabbed him and held on to him, pulling the man so he fell down on the bed, landing on the elf heavily. To his surprise, Legolas gave a weak laugh.
"Yes, that's you," he said softly. "That's your weight, alright."
"Legolas, what the hell is going on?"
"I couldn't feel you, Mir," Legolas said, his voice bleak. "I thought you were dead. I was searching for you, everywhere."
There was a discreet knock on the door. Eomer stood up to answer it.
Malwyn brought in a tray, with Gimli behind her. The dwarf looked almost as drawn as the elf.
"You pointy eared little princeling," Gimli growled, to be stopped by a yawn. Eomer opened his mouth to protest, but Gimli held up a hand, stopping him, then pointing at the elf. "Next time you will tell me, or I swear I'll take the flat of my axe to your backside, and no King is going to stop me either!" Eomer saw Malwyn's lip twitch as she placed the tray on the table, but he didn't see the humour. "I'll be back to give you a proper scolding in the morning," Gimli continued. "Arwen said to tell you you'd been pining and lost in your dreams. It was she sent us back, as fast as the poor beast could carry us. Now, you eat and get some sleep, and don't think you've heard the end of this!" He bowed politely to Malwyn, and then followed her out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Eomer flopped down in the chair and threw his hands up in defeat. "I give up! I didn't understand any of that."
Legolas looked pensive. "Pining," he said, propped up on his elbows, chewing his lip thoughtfully.
"Yes, that's what he said," Eomer said, looking over the tray. "Oh, good, ale!" He poured himself a tankard. "There's coffee here, did you want some?"
The elf nodded absently, wriggling to a sitting position, Hroth on his lap. Eomer huffed and handed the mug to him. He drained his tankard and poured another. Then he turned to face the elf, waving his free hand. "So, shall I just get drunk on my own or is there something you need to tell me?"
Legolas looked at him, his head tilted. "You've been fine, the whole time I've been gone?" he asked, a puzzled note in his voice.
Eomer stared at him. "Besides missing you, you mean? Yes, not so much as a scratch or a sniffle. I don't know why you'd think I was dead!"
The elf's brows drew down. "So you could feel me, even though I couldn't feel you?"
"What are you talking about?" Eomer asked. "What do you mean by feel?"
"I'm talking about our bond, Mir," Legolas told him. "The connection we've had since we first made love, how we can sense how..." he broke off, his eyes wide at the stunned look on the man's face. "You don't feel that at all?"
Eomer shook his head slowly. "Am I supposed to?" he asked quietly.
Legolas looked at his coffee cup, then put it on the table beside the bed. "I don't know," he said, with a hint of despair.
"Okay," Eomer said, sitting down beside him on the bed. "Start again. Tell me how it would be if I were an elf."
"Elves, well, once they marry, they're always connected. Not like the Lady Galadriel's gift, but it's just there. You know how the other is, vaguely, sense strong emotions, things like that."
"And you have that with me?" Eomer asked, his brow creased.
"You don't have that with me?" Legolas shot back, raising his own eyebrow.
"Men aren't like that," Eomer said, reigning in his frustration. "We muddle through without any magic bonds..."
"It's not magic, it's in the blood," Legolas told him sharply.
"Which I don't have, remember?" Eomer said.
"But Arwen has it with Aragorn!" Legolas protested.
"Aragorn is Dunedain, and has a drop of elven blood in him. I'm just a bloody Rohirric barbarian!" Eomer cried. "I wish to the Valar I did have such a gift!"
"Why are you yelling?" Legolas yelled back. Hroth whined and the elf put the pup down on the floor where he went to his rug. "You're scaring the dog!"
"Because you scared me half to death, coming home like that, and I don't understand a thing that's happened and you're making me doubt my own sanity! Will you stop getting angry with me and explain? Start at the beginning and use little words." Eomer exclaimed.
"Fine," Legolas snapped back at him. "I feel you all the time. I'm supposed to. So when we got to Gondor, and I realized that it was weak, but still there, I thought it was just because it was you're a man, not elfkind. Until the night I found that it was gone altogether."
"And then you thought," Eomer started, but the elf cut him off.
"I thought something terrible had happened to you. So I started trying to concentrate on it, to try and find you. No word had come, Arod didn't feel anything from Firefoot.."
"Wait, what do the horses have to do with this?" Eomer asked.
"Herd mind," Legolas said absently. "They're always part of the group."
"Of course," Eomer said, throwing up his hands again. "I don't know why I didn't think of that."
"You know, if you're going to be like this, I'm going to sleep," Legolas said. "I've had a rough, wait, what day is it?"
Eomer told him.
"Oh," the elf said. "I've had a rough three weeks, then."
"Stay awake for a minute," Eomer said, calming down a bit. "You were like that for three weeks?"
"Apparently. No wonder Arwen got worried."
"Explain the dreams to me. How did you get lost?"
The elf shuddered. "I remember thinking that if I couldn't sense you when I was awake, I could do it while I was dreaming. I wouldn't get distracted that way."
"Let me guess. By things like, say, food or proper sleep?"
Legolas nodded.
"I need more ale," Eomer said, getting up.
"I don't know why you're so sarcastic tonight," Legolas said.
"Use that magic bond," Eomer told him.
Legolas let that one slide. "So you can't tell how I'm feeling at all?" he asked, reaching for his coffee again.
"Sure I can," Eomer said, turning from the table to face him. "I just do it like this. 'Hey, Legolas, how do you feel?'" he called.
"Like smacking a King, that's how I feel," Legolas muttered.
Eomer downed the ale and took a deep breath. "Can we try this one more time?" he asked, sighing.
The elf nodded at him. Eomer kicked off his boots and stretched out beside the elf.
"Tell me if I understand this," he started. "You can always sense me, except when you're away from me for a while. If I was an elf, it wouldn't matter how long you were gone or how far you were. That's what you were expecting. Do I have that part right?"
"Yes," Legolas told him, sipping at the coffee.
"So when you stopped sensing me, since I'm a Rohhirc King, not an elf, and I'm telling you, love, I will never understand the elven mind, you were shocked and you panicked. You stopped taking care of yourself and started wandering Eru knows where in your dreams, looking for me. Instead of, say, writing me a note or talking to Arwen, a very wise person, I may add, as well as an elf herself, or coming home for a couple of days or anything like that."
"I'm sensing sarcasm again," Legolas told him.
"Good, the bond's back," Eomer said, shaking his head. "And then you did something, I'm afraid to ask what, that scared poor Arwen and she packed you and Gimli off on Arod and he ran back here, where you showed up senseless and with your eyes full of grief. Just the sight of you nearly stopped my heart. Gimli is worn out and Arod will need a week in clover just to catch his breath. And on top of all that, you argue with me about it all. Did I leave anything out?"
Legolas thought for a moment. "No, that's about it." He finished his drink and put the cup back on the table.
"Good." Eomer told him. "Don't you ever do that again!" he raged. "You have no right to terrify the people who love you. You are not an island, Legolas, and you need to learn to speak up for your own damn self. Quit going all noble on us when you need something. Stop putting yourself last! Now," he said, his voice softening as he pulled elf on to his chest. "Tell me all about it. It must have been so hard for you."
Somewhere in the back of the elf's mind he heard Arwen's gentle tones. "Let him..." So he took a deep breath and started.
"It was horrifying, Mir. I couldn't think of anything but you, back here. I couldn't feel you...not at all..."
"I'm right here. Always." Eomer told him, wrapping his arms tighter around the elf. "This is where I belong."
"I don't know if I can do it again," Legolas said, running his hand over the man's chest. "How can I travel if I can't be away from you?"
"I'll come with you, then," Eomer said, stroking the braids, fuzzy from being untended. "Whatever you need me to do, I'll do. Anything to keep you from doing this to yourself again."
Legolas smiled up at him, but then Eomer saw the flicker in his eyes, remembered grief. "What?" he asked softly.
"You don't know what it was like," he said, "that emptiness where you're supposed to be. It scared me." Despite himself, he felt the shaking start again.
"I'm right here," Eomer soothed. "You're exhausted. We'll get some sleep, it'll be better in the morning."
The elf tugged at the man's tunic, trying to hide the tremble in his fingers. "Take this off, let me feel your skin."
Eomer quickly stripped, slipping between the covers to find the elf shaking.
"Sweet Eru, what is it?" he asked, pulling the elf in close. He kissed the tousled hair, traced his fingers gently along the curve of the elf's jaw.
Legolas ran his hand across Eomer's chest again. "I couldn't stand it. I couldn't feel you."
"I'm right here. You can feel me now, can't you?"
The elf pushed himself up, kissing the man, running his hand over his chest again, down the outside of his thigh.
"Yes," he breathed into Eomer's open mouth. "I'm home."
Even as his skin caught fire, Eomer tried to reason with Legolas. "You need..." he began, but his words turned to a low moan as the elf continued to stroke him.
"I need you," Legolas said fiercely, as he ran his tongue down the man's throat, across the broad chest. "I need this."
Eomer moaned softly again, running his nails over the skin of the elf's back. He was used to the swift mood changes his lover could make but tonight the elf's ferocity startled him. Legolas was incessant, hungrily demanding Eomer's lips, his body, again and again. Finally spent, emotionally as well as physically, he curled against the man's chest.
"Need to feel you," he mumbled, as he drifted off to sleep. Eomer cradled him gently and stared out in the darkness, wishing he could drift off so easily.