Dawn sat around in a bathrobe. Eowyn had left her nearly an hour
ago, taking Dawn's clothing with a promise that they'd be returned as soon
as they were clean. She was grateful for the chance to have some laundry
done for her, but Dawn did not want anything to happen to the clothing that
Lady Galadriel had so generously given her, or the shirt that Legolas had
loaned her.
Eowyn had smiled her understanding. "I will see to it personally that they are returned to your chambers by the time the feast has concluded." Then the White Lady had said she needed to check on the preparations for Theoden's hastily ordered feast in honour of the guests, and told Dawn to bathe and she would be back with something suitable for Dawn to wear for the evening.
While she was waiting, Dawn dried her hair, enjoying the feel of the clean strands hanging down her back. She fished in the ornate boxes on the dresser until she came across a pretty little silver clip. Then she brushed her hair out and twisted the bangs back from her face, fastening them together with the clip at the back of her head. She was just admiring her work when a knock came at the door.
Eowyn came back in and handed her a dress. "This is one of mine," she said, indicating the fitted green velvet. "I believe it should be your size exactly, Lady Dawn."
Dawn accepted the dress gratefully. "Thank you, my Lady. But if I'm gonna be borrowing your clothes all sister-like and stuff, I'd feel better if you just called me Dawn. Where I'm from, we don't really say all this 'my Lady'/'my Lord' stuff."
Eowyn nodded. She liked this girl, she felt as if she knew her in a way. "Very well, Dawn. But you should call me Eowyn in that case, for I would only truly wish to loan my clothing to one I considered a friend," she replied, sitting on the edge of the large bed.
"Deal," Dawn said, skipping off behind a screen to throw the dress on. Eowyn listened in amusement to the grunts coming from behind the screen as her new friend wrestled with the gown. The situation seemed under control and Dawn began to speak as she dressed.
"So, Eowyn, if King Theoden is your uncle, and Eomund is your father, that makes Eomer your brother, right?"
"Yes," Eowyn said, surprised that Dawn knew of her brother. "How did you know that?"
Dawn stepped out from behind the screen and Eowyn smiled. She looked beautiful, the velvet of the gown set off her eyes and complemented her skin and hair perfectly. Dawn had to admit, this dress of Eowyn's did a lot more for her figure than any of the loose Elvish gowns she had worn in Lothlorien.
Dawn shrugged by way of response to the question. "I met Eomer a few days ago. He introduced himself as the son of Eomund and spoke of your uncle. So I kinda just put two and two together. Plus you guys are kinda alike. So... why did he get banished?"
Eowyn's face lost its smile, her eyes were heavy once more. "Wormtongue," she almost snarled the name. "When Eomer tried to tell Theoden of the Orc parties ravaging the lands at Saruman's command, Wormtongue had him banished for his 'war-mongering'. The man is a snake, his words are poison!"
Dawn was a little taken aback by the vehemence of Eowyn's last statement. She stared a moment, wondering what caused the outburst. Suddenly, it clicked in Dawn's mind, the reason Eowyn was so brutal in her hatred of Wormtongue, the reason she'd wanted his blood spilled earlier that day.
"That asshole tried it on with you, didn't he!?" Dawn half exclaimed, half questioned.
Eowyn shot her a confused look. "What?"
Dawn tried to find words that Eowyn would understand. "He tried to force a romantic... well, I guess that's not the word.... a physical kind of relationship with you."
Eowyn dropped her head in shame and nodded. "He tried. 'Twas another reason for Eomer's banishment. My brother tried to protect me. He attacked Wormtongue, swearing that too long had he watched me and haunted my footsteps. His outburst only served as more reason for his banishment."
Dawn looked on in sympathy. "Why are you so ashamed, Eowyn?" she asked softly. Eowyn's eyes locked onto Dawn, who loudly continued. "You shouldn't be anything but proud of yourself! You're strong, dammit! Too strong for some pathetic little weasel with a hard on to bring down! Now goddammit, stand up already and let's go eat coz I'm starving!"
Eowyn's eyes blazed. She sprang to her feet. She had no idea what a pathetic little weasel with a hard on was, but it seemed a fitting description for Wormtongue. "Yes, you are right! Let's go!"
She stopped a minute and looked seriously at Dawn. "Thank you, friend."
Dawn smiled. "You're so welcome."
They linked arms and marched to the dining hall, Eowyn asking "So how was my brother when you met with him.? Was he well?"
* * * * *
When the two ladies stepped into the hall, both noticed one thing straight away: Legolas' eyes lit up at the sight of Dawn. Dawn blushed and lowered her eyes.
Eowyn leaned in close to her and whispered in her ear. "What is this between you and Prince Legolas?"
Dawn's eyebrows shot up. 'What the fuck?' she thought. 'Prince Legolas?' She recovered and just winked at her friend, who giggled and they made their way to the table, where Dawn found herself seated between Eowyn and Legolas.
Under the table, she felt long, smooth fingers wrapping around her own. "You look well, Dawn," Legolas breathed in her ear.
"Well, much as I was beginning to enjoy Orc-blood black, I think green is a little more my colour," she returned as lightly she could. She wasn't exactly used to beautiful, strong, noble Elf Princes complementing her.
He laughed at her comment, then turned his attention to the head of the table, where Theoden had risen to speak.
"My friends," the King began. "I would that you all enjoy this evening, it shall be the last of merriment in the foreseeable future of Rohan. For tomorrow, we make for the fortress of Helm's Deep. Too dark have the times become for us to remain in the openness of Edoras. The city shall empty! In the Deep shall we find sanctuary, as our forefathers had in times past. And I humbly request the aid of our new friends and allies, whom would be most welcome should they choose to accompany the Rohirrim on this treacherous road," he turned his gaze to Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli.
It did not escape their notice that he had overlooked Dawn completely. She bristled, but let it slide for now. Her dinner had arrived. For the next few hours, they forgot the troubles of the world. They ate and drank as much as they desired, though Dawn was very careful not to take too much wine. She figured since she'd never really drank alcohol before, it wouldn't be a good idea to get herself plastered tonight. Her friends would never look at her the same again. Besides, it wouldn't help her to have a hangover in the morning.
The conversation revolved around everything but battle. Gimli and Legolas in particular were prodded into discussions of their homelands. Dawn let her eyes rest affectionately on the Elf's face, enjoying the way it brightened as he described the wondrous Mirkwood Forest, his home, to a roomful of people who had never seen such a thing. Most of the Rohirrim had never seen an Elf before, believing, as Dawn had before she'd dropped into Middle-Earth, that they were a myth of times long forgotten. Either that, or they worked for Santa. Only Aragorn and Gandalf had been to Legolas' realm, and they found their minds almost transported back to Mirkwood through the Elf's words.
At length, the feast wound down and the guests departed. Dawn made her way directly back to her room, excited at the prospect of a real bed. A few candles had been lit, and their dim glow was enough for Dawn to see by. She was pleased to find, as promised, her clothing folded neatly on the dresser. A long night-gown had also been left for her.
She ignored the night-gown, instead sliding back into Legolas' shirt. Despite the fact that it had been plastered to her sweaty back for nearly a week and then miraculously washed clean, it still held that faint, comforting woodsy smell of Legolas. She loosely knotted the ties at her throat, holding the large shirt on her and wandered over to the window.
She sat at the window, curling her bare legs up to hug to her chest and looked out at the busy people below. There were torches everywhere, lighting the land as people scurried back and forth to prepare for the long journey to Helm's Deep. Dawn smiled as she recognised Aragorn and Gimli amongst them, forgetting their need for rest as they toiled with the frightened citizens of Rohan. She also spotted Eowyn, a little away from the others, practising with a sword.
Dawn watched as Aragorn came up behind Eowyn to block her blow. They began to lightly spar and speak, but Dawn was too far away to hear the words. Finally, Aragorn turned and resheathed the hunting knife he'd been using and walked away. Eowyn stared after him.
The sound of a door softly opening and closing behind her brought Dawn's attention back to within her room. She turned to find Legolas standing just inside the room, staring at her. He was bare footed, and had taken his tunic and belt off, leaving him in only his shirt and pants. He was blushing a little.
Dawn took in his blush and realised he was trying not to stare at her, since his shirt only reached her thighs, and with her legs folded up, the material barely stretched far enough to cover her underwear. She stood up with a sly smile, preparing to make him pay for not telling her he was a Prince.
"I hope you don't mind, Legolas- I borrowed your shirt again. It was just so comfy, and I've never had the chance to wear the shirt of a Prince before."
Legolas' eyes snapped up to her face. 'How had she found out?' he wondered. Then his mind went back to dinner, Eowyn had whispered something in her ear as they'd stood in the doorway, and Dawn had looked shocked as she stared across the room at him. Then she'd winked slyly at her new friend. He schooled his face to remain impassive.
When he made no answer, Dawn shrugged. "Well, if you want it back now, you should take it," she said, moving to pull the shirt off.
"Dawn!" Legolas cried out, shocked and embarrassed.
Dawn looked passively back at him, but her eyes were shining with amusement. She was teasing him. He shook his head at her and broke into a grin as she crossed the room and gave him a quick hug and a kiss.
"That's what you get for not telling me about being a Prince," she told him when they parted.
"Is that so important?" he asked her.
"No," she responded. "But it would've only been fair. I mean, I told you all my deepest darkest secrets, it would've been nice if the favour was returned."
"I know. But, well... I saw the fun you were having with Aragorn's title...." he shrugged by way of an excuse.
"So I guess I kinda scared you off then?" Dawn supplied, also shrugging it off.
He nodded, and Dawn noticed something was bothering him. Something besides her legs. His eyes were sombre and his hair, she noted for the first time, was a little dishevelled. She took his hand and led him over to sit on the edge of the bed. She quickly pulled the braids from his hair and went to get the brush on the dresser, tossing the bands aside as she did so.
He did not protest when she sat beside him, again tucking those distracting legs up so one was resting almost on his lap, the other he could feel behind his back. He had not had anyone touching his hair like this since he was very small, but Legolas found it oddly comforting as Dawn unwound his hair and began to brush it out with long, smooth strokes. He closed his eyes.
"So, what's wrong?" Dawn asked a little while later.
He sighed, but still didn't open his eyes. "Gandalf has gone. He left almost as soon as he finished his meal, gone to find Eomer and his banished Rohirrim. He hopes to bring them to Helm's Deep before-" Legolas broke off, not wanting to upset Dawn.
He needn't have bothered. If he had been looking at her face, he would've seen the calmness in Dawn's eyes as she concentrated on his hair. "Before this Saruman guy flattens the entire country," she finished for him.
At that, Legolas opened his eyes to look at her. He marvelled at her quiet composure, completely without arrogance. She knew this could be the end of her, but she was prepared to face it and refused to fear it, but was not so foolish as to presume she would definitely defeat it.
"Why are you so strong?" he asked her softly, admiration ringing through his voice.
Dawn tried to push his head to the side to she could continue brushing his hair. "Never had a choice," she lied.
Legolas ducked out of the way of the brush and stared at her until she relented and told him the truth. "Ok, coz I wanted to prove my sister wrong. When I was fourteen, I overheard Buffy saying that I was just a little idiot who was going to get everyone killed. Not something a girl really wants to hear, y'know?" Her voice was soft as she tucked a stray strand of blond hair behind his pointy ear, but Legolas caught that familiar undertone to her words, and saw the flash in her eyes.
"Why do you harbour such a resentment for your sister?"
"Because she thinks I'm nothing," Dawn was surprised how easily the words fell from her lips. She hadn't even known she thought that.
"That's not possible," Legolas told her. "Nobody in their right mind could ever look at you and think you are nothing. Your sister loved you, she was no doubt just trying to protect you from harm."
Dawn had heard this a hundred times before. She tried harder to explain her life with Buffy to him. "I know that, but it was always like Buffy was so busy protecting me that she didn't even have time to see who I really was. It was just always going through the motions with her, protect the Key, that's your job. She never even knew I could fight well. She never gave me the chance to show her."
She noticed Legolas looking at her silently, sympathy radiating from his deep blue eyes. She shook her head and forced herself back into reason. "I know, I'm just being a self-absorbed little brat. I love Buffy with all my heart, I owe her so much! It just gets so hard sometimes, being alone."
To her surprise, Legolas grabbed her face, cupping it in his hands. "You are not alone," he swore to her, and kissed her.
A fierce heat burned in them. Dawn relaxed against him, allowing his hands to explore her face, trailing down to her throat. She shivered a little as his fingers became entangled in the ties of the shirt, pulling them loose. She raised herself up on her knees and shifted around until she had one knee resting on either side of Legolas' body. Her shirt slipped off one shoulder. His head was tilted back, Dawn was above him and he broke the kiss, only to let his mouth wind its way down her face, her neck, and then moved on to the skin of her body that had been exposed when he'd unfastened her shirt.
Dawn gasped as his tongue flicked lightly over her skin. She bent her head over his and ran her own tongue down his ear, starting at the point and finishing by nibbling at the lobe. She grinned to herself as she heard him groan at the touch. Super-sensitive ears, she figured, pleased with her discovery. She gave the tip of his ear a nip for good measure. Her hands wound their way to his waist and she tugged his shirt up over his head. Then she ran her hands down his bare chest, enjoying the feel of his tight muscles through the warmth of his skin.
It never occurred to Legolas to stop her, let alone stop himself. He wrapped his arms around her and stood, lifting her with him. He turned and laid her gently on the bed, easing her down onto the pillows. Now he was above her, he realised with a devilish grin which was readily returned by his captive. He kissed her mouth hungrily.
Again his lips traced down from her mouth to her throat, along her collarbone and beyond. Dawn watched with fascination, feeling as if she could almost see the line of fire Legolas was working down her body. She brought a hand up to run lightly over the tip of his ear, curious as to what the point would feel like to her fingers. The action earned her another groan.
She was distracted from her work on his ears by electricity humming through her as a strong but gentle hand ran up the length of her leg. She lifted herself up slightly as his hands worked their way further up, catching on the shirt and sliding it over her head until it was gone.
He tossed it aside, watching as it floated to the floor before turning back to Dawn. She was tugging at his wrist to pull him down onto her. He felt his pants slip away from his hips and a pair of strong, smooth legs wrap themselves around him.
He lost himself in the warmth of Dawn as she buried her hands in his hair, her face pressed to his neck, breathing him in.
* * * * *
A/N: Let me know what you think of this last scene here- does it work?? Thanks for reading, don't forget your R&R's ~Anoron
Eowyn had smiled her understanding. "I will see to it personally that they are returned to your chambers by the time the feast has concluded." Then the White Lady had said she needed to check on the preparations for Theoden's hastily ordered feast in honour of the guests, and told Dawn to bathe and she would be back with something suitable for Dawn to wear for the evening.
While she was waiting, Dawn dried her hair, enjoying the feel of the clean strands hanging down her back. She fished in the ornate boxes on the dresser until she came across a pretty little silver clip. Then she brushed her hair out and twisted the bangs back from her face, fastening them together with the clip at the back of her head. She was just admiring her work when a knock came at the door.
Eowyn came back in and handed her a dress. "This is one of mine," she said, indicating the fitted green velvet. "I believe it should be your size exactly, Lady Dawn."
Dawn accepted the dress gratefully. "Thank you, my Lady. But if I'm gonna be borrowing your clothes all sister-like and stuff, I'd feel better if you just called me Dawn. Where I'm from, we don't really say all this 'my Lady'/'my Lord' stuff."
Eowyn nodded. She liked this girl, she felt as if she knew her in a way. "Very well, Dawn. But you should call me Eowyn in that case, for I would only truly wish to loan my clothing to one I considered a friend," she replied, sitting on the edge of the large bed.
"Deal," Dawn said, skipping off behind a screen to throw the dress on. Eowyn listened in amusement to the grunts coming from behind the screen as her new friend wrestled with the gown. The situation seemed under control and Dawn began to speak as she dressed.
"So, Eowyn, if King Theoden is your uncle, and Eomund is your father, that makes Eomer your brother, right?"
"Yes," Eowyn said, surprised that Dawn knew of her brother. "How did you know that?"
Dawn stepped out from behind the screen and Eowyn smiled. She looked beautiful, the velvet of the gown set off her eyes and complemented her skin and hair perfectly. Dawn had to admit, this dress of Eowyn's did a lot more for her figure than any of the loose Elvish gowns she had worn in Lothlorien.
Dawn shrugged by way of response to the question. "I met Eomer a few days ago. He introduced himself as the son of Eomund and spoke of your uncle. So I kinda just put two and two together. Plus you guys are kinda alike. So... why did he get banished?"
Eowyn's face lost its smile, her eyes were heavy once more. "Wormtongue," she almost snarled the name. "When Eomer tried to tell Theoden of the Orc parties ravaging the lands at Saruman's command, Wormtongue had him banished for his 'war-mongering'. The man is a snake, his words are poison!"
Dawn was a little taken aback by the vehemence of Eowyn's last statement. She stared a moment, wondering what caused the outburst. Suddenly, it clicked in Dawn's mind, the reason Eowyn was so brutal in her hatred of Wormtongue, the reason she'd wanted his blood spilled earlier that day.
"That asshole tried it on with you, didn't he!?" Dawn half exclaimed, half questioned.
Eowyn shot her a confused look. "What?"
Dawn tried to find words that Eowyn would understand. "He tried to force a romantic... well, I guess that's not the word.... a physical kind of relationship with you."
Eowyn dropped her head in shame and nodded. "He tried. 'Twas another reason for Eomer's banishment. My brother tried to protect me. He attacked Wormtongue, swearing that too long had he watched me and haunted my footsteps. His outburst only served as more reason for his banishment."
Dawn looked on in sympathy. "Why are you so ashamed, Eowyn?" she asked softly. Eowyn's eyes locked onto Dawn, who loudly continued. "You shouldn't be anything but proud of yourself! You're strong, dammit! Too strong for some pathetic little weasel with a hard on to bring down! Now goddammit, stand up already and let's go eat coz I'm starving!"
Eowyn's eyes blazed. She sprang to her feet. She had no idea what a pathetic little weasel with a hard on was, but it seemed a fitting description for Wormtongue. "Yes, you are right! Let's go!"
She stopped a minute and looked seriously at Dawn. "Thank you, friend."
Dawn smiled. "You're so welcome."
They linked arms and marched to the dining hall, Eowyn asking "So how was my brother when you met with him.? Was he well?"
* * * * *
When the two ladies stepped into the hall, both noticed one thing straight away: Legolas' eyes lit up at the sight of Dawn. Dawn blushed and lowered her eyes.
Eowyn leaned in close to her and whispered in her ear. "What is this between you and Prince Legolas?"
Dawn's eyebrows shot up. 'What the fuck?' she thought. 'Prince Legolas?' She recovered and just winked at her friend, who giggled and they made their way to the table, where Dawn found herself seated between Eowyn and Legolas.
Under the table, she felt long, smooth fingers wrapping around her own. "You look well, Dawn," Legolas breathed in her ear.
"Well, much as I was beginning to enjoy Orc-blood black, I think green is a little more my colour," she returned as lightly she could. She wasn't exactly used to beautiful, strong, noble Elf Princes complementing her.
He laughed at her comment, then turned his attention to the head of the table, where Theoden had risen to speak.
"My friends," the King began. "I would that you all enjoy this evening, it shall be the last of merriment in the foreseeable future of Rohan. For tomorrow, we make for the fortress of Helm's Deep. Too dark have the times become for us to remain in the openness of Edoras. The city shall empty! In the Deep shall we find sanctuary, as our forefathers had in times past. And I humbly request the aid of our new friends and allies, whom would be most welcome should they choose to accompany the Rohirrim on this treacherous road," he turned his gaze to Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli.
It did not escape their notice that he had overlooked Dawn completely. She bristled, but let it slide for now. Her dinner had arrived. For the next few hours, they forgot the troubles of the world. They ate and drank as much as they desired, though Dawn was very careful not to take too much wine. She figured since she'd never really drank alcohol before, it wouldn't be a good idea to get herself plastered tonight. Her friends would never look at her the same again. Besides, it wouldn't help her to have a hangover in the morning.
The conversation revolved around everything but battle. Gimli and Legolas in particular were prodded into discussions of their homelands. Dawn let her eyes rest affectionately on the Elf's face, enjoying the way it brightened as he described the wondrous Mirkwood Forest, his home, to a roomful of people who had never seen such a thing. Most of the Rohirrim had never seen an Elf before, believing, as Dawn had before she'd dropped into Middle-Earth, that they were a myth of times long forgotten. Either that, or they worked for Santa. Only Aragorn and Gandalf had been to Legolas' realm, and they found their minds almost transported back to Mirkwood through the Elf's words.
At length, the feast wound down and the guests departed. Dawn made her way directly back to her room, excited at the prospect of a real bed. A few candles had been lit, and their dim glow was enough for Dawn to see by. She was pleased to find, as promised, her clothing folded neatly on the dresser. A long night-gown had also been left for her.
She ignored the night-gown, instead sliding back into Legolas' shirt. Despite the fact that it had been plastered to her sweaty back for nearly a week and then miraculously washed clean, it still held that faint, comforting woodsy smell of Legolas. She loosely knotted the ties at her throat, holding the large shirt on her and wandered over to the window.
She sat at the window, curling her bare legs up to hug to her chest and looked out at the busy people below. There were torches everywhere, lighting the land as people scurried back and forth to prepare for the long journey to Helm's Deep. Dawn smiled as she recognised Aragorn and Gimli amongst them, forgetting their need for rest as they toiled with the frightened citizens of Rohan. She also spotted Eowyn, a little away from the others, practising with a sword.
Dawn watched as Aragorn came up behind Eowyn to block her blow. They began to lightly spar and speak, but Dawn was too far away to hear the words. Finally, Aragorn turned and resheathed the hunting knife he'd been using and walked away. Eowyn stared after him.
The sound of a door softly opening and closing behind her brought Dawn's attention back to within her room. She turned to find Legolas standing just inside the room, staring at her. He was bare footed, and had taken his tunic and belt off, leaving him in only his shirt and pants. He was blushing a little.
Dawn took in his blush and realised he was trying not to stare at her, since his shirt only reached her thighs, and with her legs folded up, the material barely stretched far enough to cover her underwear. She stood up with a sly smile, preparing to make him pay for not telling her he was a Prince.
"I hope you don't mind, Legolas- I borrowed your shirt again. It was just so comfy, and I've never had the chance to wear the shirt of a Prince before."
Legolas' eyes snapped up to her face. 'How had she found out?' he wondered. Then his mind went back to dinner, Eowyn had whispered something in her ear as they'd stood in the doorway, and Dawn had looked shocked as she stared across the room at him. Then she'd winked slyly at her new friend. He schooled his face to remain impassive.
When he made no answer, Dawn shrugged. "Well, if you want it back now, you should take it," she said, moving to pull the shirt off.
"Dawn!" Legolas cried out, shocked and embarrassed.
Dawn looked passively back at him, but her eyes were shining with amusement. She was teasing him. He shook his head at her and broke into a grin as she crossed the room and gave him a quick hug and a kiss.
"That's what you get for not telling me about being a Prince," she told him when they parted.
"Is that so important?" he asked her.
"No," she responded. "But it would've only been fair. I mean, I told you all my deepest darkest secrets, it would've been nice if the favour was returned."
"I know. But, well... I saw the fun you were having with Aragorn's title...." he shrugged by way of an excuse.
"So I guess I kinda scared you off then?" Dawn supplied, also shrugging it off.
He nodded, and Dawn noticed something was bothering him. Something besides her legs. His eyes were sombre and his hair, she noted for the first time, was a little dishevelled. She took his hand and led him over to sit on the edge of the bed. She quickly pulled the braids from his hair and went to get the brush on the dresser, tossing the bands aside as she did so.
He did not protest when she sat beside him, again tucking those distracting legs up so one was resting almost on his lap, the other he could feel behind his back. He had not had anyone touching his hair like this since he was very small, but Legolas found it oddly comforting as Dawn unwound his hair and began to brush it out with long, smooth strokes. He closed his eyes.
"So, what's wrong?" Dawn asked a little while later.
He sighed, but still didn't open his eyes. "Gandalf has gone. He left almost as soon as he finished his meal, gone to find Eomer and his banished Rohirrim. He hopes to bring them to Helm's Deep before-" Legolas broke off, not wanting to upset Dawn.
He needn't have bothered. If he had been looking at her face, he would've seen the calmness in Dawn's eyes as she concentrated on his hair. "Before this Saruman guy flattens the entire country," she finished for him.
At that, Legolas opened his eyes to look at her. He marvelled at her quiet composure, completely without arrogance. She knew this could be the end of her, but she was prepared to face it and refused to fear it, but was not so foolish as to presume she would definitely defeat it.
"Why are you so strong?" he asked her softly, admiration ringing through his voice.
Dawn tried to push his head to the side to she could continue brushing his hair. "Never had a choice," she lied.
Legolas ducked out of the way of the brush and stared at her until she relented and told him the truth. "Ok, coz I wanted to prove my sister wrong. When I was fourteen, I overheard Buffy saying that I was just a little idiot who was going to get everyone killed. Not something a girl really wants to hear, y'know?" Her voice was soft as she tucked a stray strand of blond hair behind his pointy ear, but Legolas caught that familiar undertone to her words, and saw the flash in her eyes.
"Why do you harbour such a resentment for your sister?"
"Because she thinks I'm nothing," Dawn was surprised how easily the words fell from her lips. She hadn't even known she thought that.
"That's not possible," Legolas told her. "Nobody in their right mind could ever look at you and think you are nothing. Your sister loved you, she was no doubt just trying to protect you from harm."
Dawn had heard this a hundred times before. She tried harder to explain her life with Buffy to him. "I know that, but it was always like Buffy was so busy protecting me that she didn't even have time to see who I really was. It was just always going through the motions with her, protect the Key, that's your job. She never even knew I could fight well. She never gave me the chance to show her."
She noticed Legolas looking at her silently, sympathy radiating from his deep blue eyes. She shook her head and forced herself back into reason. "I know, I'm just being a self-absorbed little brat. I love Buffy with all my heart, I owe her so much! It just gets so hard sometimes, being alone."
To her surprise, Legolas grabbed her face, cupping it in his hands. "You are not alone," he swore to her, and kissed her.
A fierce heat burned in them. Dawn relaxed against him, allowing his hands to explore her face, trailing down to her throat. She shivered a little as his fingers became entangled in the ties of the shirt, pulling them loose. She raised herself up on her knees and shifted around until she had one knee resting on either side of Legolas' body. Her shirt slipped off one shoulder. His head was tilted back, Dawn was above him and he broke the kiss, only to let his mouth wind its way down her face, her neck, and then moved on to the skin of her body that had been exposed when he'd unfastened her shirt.
Dawn gasped as his tongue flicked lightly over her skin. She bent her head over his and ran her own tongue down his ear, starting at the point and finishing by nibbling at the lobe. She grinned to herself as she heard him groan at the touch. Super-sensitive ears, she figured, pleased with her discovery. She gave the tip of his ear a nip for good measure. Her hands wound their way to his waist and she tugged his shirt up over his head. Then she ran her hands down his bare chest, enjoying the feel of his tight muscles through the warmth of his skin.
It never occurred to Legolas to stop her, let alone stop himself. He wrapped his arms around her and stood, lifting her with him. He turned and laid her gently on the bed, easing her down onto the pillows. Now he was above her, he realised with a devilish grin which was readily returned by his captive. He kissed her mouth hungrily.
Again his lips traced down from her mouth to her throat, along her collarbone and beyond. Dawn watched with fascination, feeling as if she could almost see the line of fire Legolas was working down her body. She brought a hand up to run lightly over the tip of his ear, curious as to what the point would feel like to her fingers. The action earned her another groan.
She was distracted from her work on his ears by electricity humming through her as a strong but gentle hand ran up the length of her leg. She lifted herself up slightly as his hands worked their way further up, catching on the shirt and sliding it over her head until it was gone.
He tossed it aside, watching as it floated to the floor before turning back to Dawn. She was tugging at his wrist to pull him down onto her. He felt his pants slip away from his hips and a pair of strong, smooth legs wrap themselves around him.
He lost himself in the warmth of Dawn as she buried her hands in his hair, her face pressed to his neck, breathing him in.
* * * * *
A/N: Let me know what you think of this last scene here- does it work?? Thanks for reading, don't forget your R&R's ~Anoron