Previously:

Tirith Aear, Dol Amroth, Belfalas, Gondor, Third Age, Ivanneth, 3021

"Take me here, Legolas," she said huskily. "Under the stars. I want you to scream my name so that all of thy kin shall hear it. Let them know that a mortal woman has ensnared their beloved Prince, and let them wish they could be me."

Legolas laughed darkly and leaned in, kissing Éowyn firmly.

"You wish to flaunt," he stated.

"Aye," Éowyn smirked, undoing his robes and shirt. "I am tired of their mocking glances and caustic words. I know this shall not silence them, but if I shall be despised, then let them have a true reason to hate me."

"Éowyn," Legolas rolled his eyes.

"I want them to know, Legolas," Éowyn said, baring him to the waist and kissing his shoulder, then his chest. "I want them to know that you desire only my lips, my touch, my breasts, my arse, my body."

"So demanding, Shieldmaiden," he smirked, moving over top of her and easing her down to her back.

Éowyn gasped as he tore the bodice of her dress, his lips closing around one breast as he lifted her legs. Her hands grasped his shoulders as he undid his leggings, his firm weight covering her as his hips moved against hers.

Her hand reached down between them as he kissed her shoulder and neck. She moaned as he removed her undergarments, parting her legs and pushing them back, spreading her open before him.

"My name, Legolas," she hissed, taking hold of him and rubbing him against her core. "Say my name when you take me."

"Éowyn," he grinned, thrusting inside of her. "Éowyn".

Her arms fell above her head, surrendering to him as he rose above her and pushed inside over and over. His hands held her legs wide, angling her hips to allow him to thrust deep. With the starlight all around him, Legolas felt all powerful as he called his wife's name and drew loud groans from her lips.

The wind blew about them, the height of the tower being such that they were likely not heard by the people in the City below, but Éowyn did not care. She imagined the Elves, with their sharp hearing, turning to look in the direction of the tower as their Prince called out her name in passion.

"Legolas!" she shouted as he pushed her beyond her limit, pleasure crashing through her. Before she could catch her breath, he brought her high once again, his hips not stopping. She lay back, submitting to his strength, their minds linked, scandalous thoughts passing between them as they loved each other well into the night.

Chapter 29:

Dol Amroth, Belfalas, Gondor, Third Age, Ivanneth, 3021

Éowyn looked over her list, frowning as she scanned the different numbers. Her maids and several court attendants stood by, waiting for her orders.

"I do not understand," she shook her head. "The amount required to house and feed our delegation is surely higher than this?"

"As thy people are guests of our Prince, no tribute is required, White Lady," one of the attendants bowed respectfully. "Prince Erchirion was adamant that after the hospitality the Swan Knights received in thy forest realm, no expense would be spared for thy Royal visit."

"The good Prince is took kind," Éowyn sighed.

"My Lord Prince asks that you grant him one last contest before my Lady departs tomorrow," the attendant said.

"Very well," Éowyn smiled. "Tell Prince Erchirion I shall be at his service."

"Very good, my Lady," the attendant bowed and took his leave.

"Give these instructions to the officers," Éowyn said, handing her clipboard to one of her maids. "All must be made ready. Legolas wishes to be back in South Ithilien within a week, and we must not tarry further. That shall be all. Advise the guards that we are not to be disturbed and lock the door."

"Yes, my Lady," the maid nodded. She and her other maids bowed and left the chamber, the other court attendants following after them.

Éowyn turned and passed through the parlour and another door to reach their bedchamber. She sat down at her vanity, smoothing her long blonde hair behind her shoulders. Turning her head left and right, she smiled at her cream-coloured throat and shoulders, the bodice of the Elven gown sweeping down from her shoulders across the top of her chest. Her skin had a slight tan from having spent the past weeks in the sunny coastal land of Dol Amroth. The wind swept plains and grey skies of Rohan had kept her skin pale and lithe, and she was envied throughout the lands, but since moving with Legolas to the warmer forests of South Ithilien and spending most of her time in Gondor, Éowyn seemed to have a healthy glow about her. She blushed as she considered the flush to her skin. Queen Arwen had shared a secret with her – that the essence of Elves was said to have healing and recuperative powers for mortals. It was a little known rumour, given how few Elves and mortals had bonded over the Ages. Indeed, Éowyn and Legolas were the only known married Elf and Woman in known history.

"Well, if the legend is true, my Lord has given me more than my fair share of treatments," she whispered, her cheeks blushing crimson with embarrassment.

As she looked at her reflection in the large mirror, she frowned suddenly, a wave of panic coursing through her, causing her pulse to quicken and her hands to shake. She looked from her vanity to the open door leading to their terrace. Feeling anxious, Éowyn rose and walked briskly out to the terrace, looking nervously to her left to the end of the balcony, where the blue waters of the Bay of Belfalas shimmered in the distance.

"Legolas?" she called, walking slowly towards her husband.

The Elven Prince was standing at the end of the terrace, facing the Sea. His hands were splayed on the stone railing, his shoulders tensed. At the sound of his wife's voice, he straightened his posture and turned around. His blue eyes were clouded and wide, his lips parted.

Éowyn came into his arms, hugging him tight. She turned her head and closed her eyes, leaning against his firm chest.

"My love," Legolas whispered, kissing the top of her head as his arms wrapped her in a warm embrace.

"What is it?" she asked quietly, looking up at him. "I felt…scared…just now."

Legolas blinked in surprise, looking at her carefully. He then smiled and kissed her softly, his warm lips soothing her.

"My beautiful wife," he said reverently. "Still to this day thy spirit shows me all manner of wonders."

"What riddle is this?" she smiled, feeling better at his warm words. "No one knows me as well as thee, my Lord."

"Aye, Éowyn," he nodded. "Thy fear just now, it is a signal that I had thought only the Elves would feel."

"Why?" Éowyn frowned. "Is something the matter?"

"Nay," Legolas shook his head. "It is just a harbinger, is all. It has been coming for Ages now, but it has now arrived, and though I knew it would was soon to be, now faced with the actual event, I, and all Elves, are saddened, is all. It was my sadness, or perhaps a part of thy own, that you have felt."

"A sadness? At what?" Éowyn asked.

Legolas turned her towards the Sea, his arms coming across her front, holding her back against his chest. Éowyn raised her hands and covered his, their joined hands resting just below her breasts.

"It is the sailing of the Ring-bearers, my love," Legolas said quietly, kissing her cheek. "The ship has left the Havens, at long last."

Éowyn blinked and gasped. She swallowed hard, her eyes filling with tears.

"Oh, Legolas," she said sadly. "I am so sorry, my love."

"It was long in coming," Legolas said simply. "I am grateful for having known Mithrandir, and the Lady of Light, Lord Elrond and Frodo. They shall be missed, as many of my kin who have already set sail for Valinor shall be."

"Aye," Éowyn nodded, watching the sun high in the sky over the water. "The world is changing."

"Aye, it is," Legolas agreed.

They held each other, standing in silence, looking out to the horizon. Eowyn no longer felt anxious, and as a quiet prayer flowed through her mind, wishing a swift and safe journey to the White Wizard, the Elves and the Ring-bearers who had touched her life, she was heartened that her husband had pledged to stay in Middle-Earth at her side.

South Ithilien, Gondor, Third Age, Ivanneth, 3021

"Faramir," the ranger called, bringing his horse alongside that of the Steward. "A caravan of Southrons has come into the forest. They ride the main road at an easy pace."

"Are they armed?" Faramir asked, looking through the forest to the south.

"Aye," the ranger nodded. "Swordsmen on horseback and archers, though they appear to be guards only."

"We do not know what they carry," another ranger noted. "We ought to stop them and inspect them before they get too close to Emyn Arnen."

"These are Lord Legolas and Lady Éowyn's lands," Faramir said. "Their sentries will monitor the Southrons. Should they require our assistance, they shall send for us. They know we ride patrol today. This is the sixth caravan to come through Ithilien in recent weeks. Never before have we seen so many coming to our lands in trade. We'll take the forest paths and track the caravan, but do not engage or reveal thyselves."

"Aye, my Lord Faramir," the ranger nodded, and the order was passed among the group. Faramir raised his hand and the patrol group rode out.

Dol Amroth, Belfalas, Gondor, Third Age, Ivanneth, 3021

The horns blared and the banners of South Ithilien and the White Swan were raised. Legolas and Éowyn led Arod and Windfola forward, waving to the gathered crowd and acknowledging the cheers from the people lining the streets leading to the City Gate. Their time with Prince Imrahil and his House was pleasant, but now, with the dawning of the Fourth Age, it was time for them to return home.

Prince Erchirion stood with his brothers, off to the side of his parents as they all waved from the Royal Gallery. He pursed his lips, his eyes focused only on Éowyn, as she disappeared beyond the Gate and down the road.

"We shall push the pace while we still have light," Legolas declared, his eyes moving from the lush hills in the distance to look at the waters of the Bay one last time.

"Aye, my Lord," Éowyn nodded. "The legion has been dining in splendour and sleeping in comfortable beds during our stay. It is time we hardened them once again, lest they all be made laughingstocks when we reach South Ithilien."

The soldiers roared from behind them, slapping their shields in reply.

"Very well," Legolas smiled. "At thy pleasure, my Lady."

Éowyn smiled. She drew Stormshatter from her scabbard and raised it aloft, the Elven blade shining in the sunlight.

"Forward!" she yelled and the soldiers answered in reply, the horses breaking into a gallop as they took off towards the hills.

South Ithilien, Gondor, Fourth Age, Narbaleth, 1

As the legion cantered through the Gate, trumpets sounded. A crowd had already gathered and they broke out into cheers and applause as the horses came into the main courtyard and came to a halt. Attendants came forward as the soldiers dismounted. Families and friends surrounded them. They had been gone for months, having been in Rohan and Dol Amroth and now finally back home.

"My Lord, my Lady," an attendant bowed as Legolas took Eowyn hand and led her away from the Gathering Hall and towards their chambers. "Welcome home."

Legolas and Éowyn nodded. They continued walking, their staff falling in step with them as they went, giving them reports from the time they were away. The harvest had again been bountiful and the planting of the season was well underway. The village had grown, each month bringing more colonists coming, as well as new births.

"What is that, pray?" Éowyn asked, as they passed by a covered wagon.

"A trade caravan passed by last week, my Lady," an attendant said. "They left this behind for the weekly market."

"Caravan," Legolas repeated. "It is not a Gondorian design."

"Nay, my Lord," an attendant said. "They came up from the South, going as far as Emyn Arnen."

Éowyn exchanged a glance with Legolas. "And were they inspected before bringing their wares within our walls?"

"Aye, my Lady," an attendant said. "We sent for the Steward to observe them and he had no complaint."

"If Faramir approved, then so be it," Legolas shrugged.

"Aye," Éowyn said, glancing over at the wagon one last time before continuing on to their chambers.

Near Harad, Harad, Fourth Age, Narbaleth, 1

"Overlord," the soldier said, taking a knee before Balian. "The Elven Prince and his Lady have returned to the forest realm."

Balian took a large bite of a slab of meat, chewing slowly as he looked to the horizon. He swallowed the food and took a long pull from a waterskin.

"Good," he nodded. "Gather the men. We ride."

"Aye, Overlord," the soldier nodded, rising to his feet and scampering away to marshal the riders.

"Overlord, I must officially object to this plan," another soldier said, shaking his head. "You are a champion among us. We shall survive should you fall."

Balian smiled and turned to his comrade. He clasped his shoulder and looked at him intently.

"Have faith, my brother," he said. "My plan shall succeed."

"Aye, Overlord," the soldier sighed. "I shall make the preparations."

Balian nodded and dismissed him. He rose from his chair and walked over to his horse. Drawing his curved blade, he examined it closely, running his finger along the edge, pleased with its sharpness. With a graceful step, he mounted his horse and pulled on the reins, rearing the stallion before putting him into a slow trot towards where his men were assembling.

"The White Lady of South Ithilien," Balian grinned, passing through his men. "I am coming for thee."

With a sharp call, he led his soldiers north.

South Ithilien, Gondor, Fourth Age, Narbaleth, 1

"Drink, my Lord," Éowyn smiled, handing him a goblet.

"What is this?" Legolas smiled after taking a sip. "It is…refreshing."

"Aye," she nodded. "The water taken from the springs further into the caves is colder and tastes different than that from the pool."

"I see," he nodded, taking another drink. "It is pleasant."

"I had berries added to it," she said, finishing her drink and putting down her cup. "I do not how long it shall keep, but it would be good to be able to put it in jars and send it out to the people."

"Aye, though a trip to Emyn Arnen would likely leave it warm," he nodded.

"The weather here is lovely, but it presents problems," she sighed. "In Rohan, snow and ice was plentiful. Traders would have it carted down from the mountains and it would last for a week or more even after it reached Edoras."

"I would not know," Legolas smiled putting his goblet down and coming over to her. "I recall only feeling quite hot when I stayed at Meduseld."

"Insufferable Elf," she frowned, allowing him to put his arms around her. "I expected such childish innuendo from thee. The moon is full this night, is it not?"

"Aye," he said thickly, kissing her cheek, then moving to lick her neck. "Thy duties await thee, wife."

"How do I know thou speaketh honestly, my Lord?" she teased. "Perhaps this tale of Elves being overly amorous during the full moon is but a lie, created to seduce Elleth to do thy biding?"

"I should think that the many evenings we have spent beneath a full moon would have convinced thee, my love," he chuckled. "But, if thy heart still doubts…"

Éowyn shrieked happily as he pulled her close. Her hand slid between them and snuck beneath the waist of his leggings, feeling him warm and heavy.

"Is this thy desire, husband?" she asked innocently, stroking him slowly as she kissed his cheek, her lips and tongue blazing a trail to his ear. "I am to serve thee, this night?"

"Éowyn," he sighed, his head dropping forward as she licked his ear.

"If it be true that the Elves become particularly ravenous under the full moon, then it follows that many of our people are indulging themselves this night," she said casually, both her hands working together to undo his leggings and slide them down to the floor.

"Aye," he gasped, standing still as she pulled the laces of his tunic free and forced the garment down his arms and off.

"Well, then as the Queen of this forest realm, I must set an example," she smiled, keeping his eyes on hers as she reached deftly undid the buttons of her gown, pulling the front panel free and allowing the silk to slide off her arms and down to her hips.

Legolas remained silent, staring at her bare breasts.

"Tonight, my Lord," she breathed, lowering to her knees before him. "Show no restraint. I want all of thee."

Legolas groaned as her lips closed around him and she took him into her mouth.

"Éowyn!" he shouted, grabbing hold of her blonde hair in his fist as she moved back and forth over him.

He hardened and grew in her mouth and she moaned, one hand stroking him in time while the other massaged his thigh and curled around to fondle his buttock. Her blood raced and her arousal flared the longer she worked on him, the promise of all that was to come tonight filling her with desire.

Legolas tightened his hold on his wife's hair and cried out as he thrust his hips forward and pulled her close. Éowyn took him fully, massaging his rear with both hands as he spilled inside of her, the warmth of his seed filling her mouth before she hummed sultrily and swallowed. Bringing her hands around in front of him, she released him, stroking him firmly as the last of his first release spurted out and fell across her cheek and lips.

"Gods, Éowyn!" he gasped, enraptured as he watched her smile up at him. "I do not deserve thee, my love. You are perfection, Éowyn."

"Go and lie down," she smirked, rising to her feet as he went over to their bed and stretched out on his back.

"You held back, Legolas," she said sharply, stepping out of her gown and walking over to the bed. "Do you think so little of me as to deny me all of my husband's passion?"

"Nay, Éowyn!" he shook his head as she straddled his thighs. "It is just that…"

"It is just that…what?" she asked, guiding him inside of her. "That mortals cannot…handle an Elven Prince when fully aroused?"

Legolas gazed up at her, his hands moving to cup her breasts as she rocked her hips against him.

"Let us see who submits to who this night," she whispered, her eyes closing as she felt him thrust deep.


A full two hours later, Éowyn wondered whether she had taken on too large a challenge. Legolas cradled her head against his shoulder, bringing a cup of water to her lips, smiling down at her as she drank gratefully. They were both flushed, their skin covered in sweat. He had ravished her numerous times, growing more and more aggressive as the night wore on, the remains of his seed across her thighs and breasts. She could feel him still hard and throbbing against her leg as she sat in his lap, his eyes glared at her as he placed the empty cup on the table next to their bed, then turned and eased her on to her stomach once again.

"Do you wish to sleep, White Lady?" he teased, lifting her hips and pulling her back against him, his hard length playing between her legs.

"Nay," she shook her head, her voice raspy from the numerous screams he had drawn out of her. "I demand all of you, my Lord, until you are fully sated."

"Then show me, woman," he growled.

Éowyn shuddered, her arousal still aflame, though her arms and legs felt weak. She reached back and slid her hands over her raised bottom, parting her buttocks lewdly and presenting herself to him.

"All of you, Legolas," she commanded, looking back at him with dark eyes.

"My fierce Shieldmaiden," he smiled, taking hold of her hips once again.


The wind blew through the trees, rustling the branches under the evening sky. The soldiers moved slowly, almost at a relaxed pace, though their eyes darted left and right, watching cautiously, looking into the shadows and the dark canopy above.

They had made good time along the Harad Road after they crossed the River Poros. The increased trade and travelers moving along the road had made the path wide and smooth, yet another benefit of the colony of the Elven Prince and his bride, the White Lady. During the Ring War, Ithilien was a harsh wilderness, untamed and dangerous. The Southrons rampaged through it undeterred, small skirmishes with Rangers the only opposition as they moved freely from Harad up to Minas Morgul. After the fall of Sauron, those who had allied with him had retreated or disappeared, most of them vanquished with the destruction of the One Ring. Under the new Peace ordered by the King of Gondor, they were permitted to move through Ithilien once more, but they found it a much changed land.

The convoy pulled off the road and made camp in a large clearing. The grey clouds above blocked out the stars and moonlight, the full moon of a week past but a memory now. No one spoke. No one loitered. They gathered the horses and left them to graze, made up the tents and lit a small fire for warmth. They were soon all asleep.


"They do not even post sentries," the Elven guardsman noted, staring with his sharp eyes into the distance from his talan high above the forest floor.

"Why should they?" his companion muttered. "It is a time of Peace. They are permitted to travel the forest without fear, even though they are dark men from Harad."

"I do not trust them," the first Elf said. "They are armed and we do not know their purpose, nor their destination."

"They could be sellswords, bound for Emyn Arnen or Minas Tirith, even Osgiliath," the second theorized. "Noblemen still pay coin for security, though the threat of raids is far lessened in this new Age."

"I do not like this wind," the first Elf frowned, looking up to the dark sky. "It makes the trees loud and noisy."

"Let us go," the second shook his head. "We have no need to watch these Southrons, and Lord Legolas would want us to continue our patrol."

"Aye," the first nodded, taking one last look at the Haradrim camp before turning and following silently as he and his fellow guard raced along the rope bridges.


Balian held his breath as he leaped from one rocky outcropping to the ledge above. He grunted as he grabbed hold of the cliff, pulling his large frame up and finding new footholds. He did not dare look down or even to the left or right. He focused only on the sheer rock face above.

The going had been long and difficult, as he expected it would be. He was quite certain he had circled around to the cliff unnoticed. There were no paths on this side of Ithilien and the Elves would not have posted guards, believing that the natural defence of the hill and waterfall on the other side would prevent anyone from approaching the village from this side.

Almost anyone would not have even dared try.

Balian continued and finally lifted himself to the top of the small mountain, the roar of the medium-sized stream and the waterfall beyond ringing in his ears. Gritting his teeth, he crouched low, almost crawling as he followed the stream to the edge, where the water plunged down to the pool far below.

He could make out the lights from the lit torches in the village below. His scouts had been right. The small colony began by the Elven Prince so recently had now grown to a bustling village, even large enough to be a town. The homes were dark at this late hour, though the walls were lit, and Balian could even make out the streets and paths that ran through the village.

Checking his belts and straps that kept his curved blade tied tight to his back, he eased himself over the edge and searched out for a foothold. His men would be resting in camp for another hour or so before making their way here. He expected it would take him at least that long to get into position.


"Gods, Legolas!" Éowyn cried, her hands clutching at the furs below her as she rocked back and forth on her hands and knees. "Please! Please!"

Legolas kept hold of her hips, baring his teeth as he thrust inside of her again and again. The sound of their bodies clashing together filled the chamber. He reached one hand around her and cupped her breast, his fingers playing with the hardened tip as he increased his pace.

"Please, my love," Éowyn gasped. "All over me, please! Mark me! Mark me!"

Legolas growled, unable to restrain himself. She knew exactly what to say to him and when and he grunted as he thrust deep into her one last time before pulling out and staggering backward.

She turned and dropped to the floor, looking up at him and smiling wickedly. His hand was flying along his length, his eyes clouded as he looked down at her.

She cupped her breasts and held them up to him, licking her lips as she kept his stare. That was the last straw, his control snapping at the sight of her like this.

"Éowyn! I love you!" he roared as he released, his seed spilling over her breasts, across her neck, and on to her cheeks. She opened her mouth and took several spurts to her tongue, then rose up and closed her lips around him, taking the last of his spend, licking him as she moaned and swallowed.

"Éowyn," he sighed, watching as she cleaned herself. He finally lifted her up and brought her back to bed, lying down with her and holding her close. "You undo me."

"You enjoy it, my Lord," she smiled drowsily, kissing his chest. "Was that not thy desire when first we met? To have me like this? Naked and at thy mercy, thy seed upon my skin, claiming me for eternity?"

"I wish only to claim thy heart, my love," he frowned.

"So gallant, husband," she chuckled. "Fear not. Knowing how ardent is thy desire for me pleases me greatly."

Legolas kissed her softly.

"Thy scouts await thee, Legolas," Éowyn reminded him. "I must know whether the second road from the rice fields can be expanded."

"Aye," he said, groaning as he let her go and got out of bed. "I shall return by luncheon. A good to thee, Éowyn, my love."

Éowyn smiled and leaned over to kiss him. She watched as he dressed and looked back at her one last time before departing. Staying several moments in bed, she eventually roused herself. With Legolas going across the forest with his scouts to survey the road as she had ordered him to, it would fall to her to deal with village business before luncheon.

She made her way to the grotto to bathe, running her hand through her mussed blonde hair. She eased herself into the warm water, rinsing her hair before taking up the soaps and oils and going about her bath.


Balian slipped through the opening in the cliff face, easing himself slowly and carefully down the shaft. He paused and listened for anyone in the chamber below. Satisfied it was empty, he dropped the remaining distance, landing on the ground.

He was in a bathing room of some kind. A grotto filled with water dominated the chamber, and there were candles and bottles placed all around it. Wooden shelves and tables held neatly folded towels. A large woven rug was across the stone floor.

He crept quietly out of the chamber and followed the carved hallway to its end. At the fork, he looked to the right and saw a large door in the distance, likely leading to the outside. He narrowed his eyes and turned right.

Moving silently, he came into a large parlour, lavishly appointed and yet still warm and welcoming. He glanced around the room, taking in the full bookshelves, the rugs on the floor, the tapestries on the walls. This resembled a home fit for a Prince, despite it actually being a large cave.

"State thy name and business," a cold voice ordered.

Balian turned and blinked as a fierce looking woman stood in the doorway leading beyond the parlour. She wore a white gown with green leaf patterns sewn along the hem and sleeves. A leather belt fastened a scabbard to her thin waist, and her hand gripped the pommel of a sword, ready to draw. Her long blonde hair was tied back from her face, flowing down her back.

"Lady Éowyn," Balian said, bowing his head. "I am Balian, called Overlord in Harad."

"And why have you come into my husband's land unannounced and uninvited?" Éowyn demanded. "What has become of the guards posted at the water's edge?"

"I did not come through the front door, my Lady," Balian smiled.

"You lie," Éowyn accused him. "There is no other way into our chambers."

"I climbed down," Balian said simply, straightening his posture. He was easily a full two heads taller than Éowyn, and broader than Legolas. He was wearing leggings and boots, but no shirt, a large sword was strapped to his back.

"Why would you go to such effort?" Éowyn asked suspiciously. "If you would ask an audience of us, then a simple request could be made, unless thy intentions are dark."

"They are," Balian confirmed, crossing his arms over his chest and smiling at her wickedly. "I am here for thee, White Lady."

"I shall not be had so easily," Éowyn frowned.

"I should hope not," Balian laughed, stepping towards her.