Notes:

I'm not sure if I love the flow of this chapter but it's been a long week and I didn't want to put off posting it so, here it is.

Chapter Text

Emma rose earlier than usual and went straight to Madge's home to prepare on the day of the tournament. They packed up all the medicines they had spent the last few days mixing, as many bandages as they could, and other tools they may need. A few of the riders had volunteered to carry a cauldron to the arena and build a fire so that they could boil water. Emma was glad she didn't have to do the heavy lifting on that end. They arrived long before the games were set to begin and set everything up. The crowd slowly began to file in and try to get the best spots to watch the contests.

Emma could see the contestants clearly from where she stood. She spotted a few that she knew; Declan of course, Cedric, James (the head guard), Eadgar, a few other riders she had seen around the hall, and, of course, Eomer. They were all dressed in simple trousers and shirts, it seemed they weren't overly concerned with finery. The purpose of this tournament was skill. Emma caught Declan's eye and gave him a big smile and wave, wishing him luck like she promised. She saw Eomer scowl in her periphery.

The first challenge was archery, the marksmen each took their shots and the group whittled down to the final three. Emma was surprised that Eomer hadn't exaggerated, Declan was the best archer by far. He was obviously overjoyed to have won the first game, he gave Emma a confident wave. Next, there were various feats of strength. This is where Declan's luck ended. The larger men were lifting heavy weights, each attempting to lift more weight and throw their weights farther (Emma would compare it to shotput and discuss). Emma was fascinated by how strong these men were. She was watching with interest until she saw Eomer come up for his turn and, holy shit, he was shirtless. She swore she wasn't the only woman whose breath caught as he walked into the arena. He glanced at her as she stood there trying not to gape like a fish and smirked. Is that asshole doing this to me on purpose? Of course, that couldn't be it, Eomer had said himself that he didn't care enough to direct his affairs with her in mind. But, damn, he had the most chiseled physique she had ever seen. It was like he was carved out of stone. He had a few scars that marked him as a warrior, so that Emma could later have fantasies of being swept off her feet by a literal knight in shining armor. Emma shook it off and pretended not to notice the sly look Madge was throwing her way. She pretended to sort through some bandages as the contest went on. They hadn't had any injuries yet. Those would happen when the horse stunts and sparring events came up. Surprisingly, Eomer did not win in this category, he came in second behind James, who was perhaps the largest man Emma had ever seen. He looked like a bowling ball standing next to a row of pins.

Finally, the Rohirrim's favorite games arrived, horse racing and stunts. The races were intense, the men riding for all they were worth. What good is a Horse Lord who can't ride horses? Eomer did win this category, then he won for stunts. Emma was disconcerted to notice how flexible he was. There were a couple minor injuries that were quickly patched up, one younger boy had hurt his leg getting off his horse.

Lastly, it was time for sparring. The men sparred in duos until it came down to the final two: Eomer versus Cedric. While Cedric was Eomer's best friend and right-hand man, he was also a talented swordsman and he had no intention of letting his friend win. The fight was brutal, both men seemed to be dancing, graceful and powerful at the same time. Emma was too fascinated to even appreciate Eomer's muscles glistening with sweat. At one point, Cedric scratched Eomer and it almost seemed as if he would be the winner, but Eomer bested him in the end. The scores for all events were aggregated and, to no one's surprise, Eomer came out victorious overall.

As Emma and Madge were finishing up treating all the small cuts and bruises, Eomer walked over to the medical area. Madge spotted him first, "come to get your wounds treated of your own volition? I usually have to chase you down to let me take care of those cuts."

Eomer just gave her a charming smile and said, "I've decided I need to take better care of myself in my old age."

Madge laughed, "If you're old, I'm ancient. Take a seat, can you see to him Emma? I have to finish up with this." In truth, Emma was busier than Madge was; but she knew exactly what Madge was doing. This was a setup if there ever was one. Eomer smirked and took a seat on the chair Madge had pointed too.

"Did you enjoy the games?" He asked, as Emma began preparing her tools.

"Yes, they were very...interesting," she said.

"Yes, you looked...interested," another sly smirk, "your champion didn't make it very far. Maybe you should have backed someone else."

"That's alright," Emma said as she looked for a sterilized needle, "I cheered for my friend. After all, this is a friendly competition is it not?"

"Competition, yes," he smiled, "friendly...well sometimes. The men can get their egos very easily bruised," he said.

"I guess it's a good thing you won, wouldn't want your ego bruised." She was ready to clean up the wound, the only problem was that it would require him to remove his shirt...again. She gave an awkward cough and tried not to blush, "I need you to remove your shirt."

"Of course," he looked right into her eyes as he lifted the shirt over his head. She noticed immediately that his "cut," was not serious at all, in fact, it wouldn't even need stitches.

"Looks like a scratch," she said, as she began to clean it.

"It hurts a lot," he rationalized.

"Hmmm, I thought you never got even your most serious wounds treated," she pushed.

"Like I said," he smirked again, "this one hurts, a lot."

She tried not to ogle him as she applied Madge's "miracle" poultice, and she especially tried not to notice the self-satisfied look on his face at her obvious discomfort. "You look stressed, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she squeaked, get yourself together.

"If you need to take a seat," he waved to the chair next to him, "it's hot out today, you two were working hard."

"I'm fine really," she said, "I'm almost done."

"Take your time," he looked at her and then reached out to touch her cheek, "you have a little," he wiped away a dab of blood on her cheek.

"Thanks," she breathed. She had paused while she wrapped up his "wound," distracted by the way he was looking at her. She cleared her throat and finished up.

"All done," she said, "I can't make any promises but I think you'll live."

He chuckled, "Madge told you about the party we'll be throwing tonight?"

"She mentioned it, yes."

"Well, since I won the tournament," he took a step closer to her, "I think you owe me the first dance."

"Oh," she lowered her head, "I don't really know how to dance like you guys do, in my home we dance very differently..."

He tilted her chin up and gave her a soft smile, "I'll teach you," he promised.

"Oh...okay," he turned around and walked away then, by now the arena had cleared out and Madge was still pretending to be busy to "give her privacy."

"So," she came up and nudged her with her elbow, "still think there's nothing going on?"

"Oh, please don't start, that came out of nowhere!" She said, exasperated.

"Out of nowhere?" Madge barked a laugh, "Oh, honey, I don't think I've ever seen anyone so willfully blind in my life."