Author's note: Alright, so you've noticed Théoden isn't the zombie like slave Gríma made of him. One of the wonders of A.U. my beloved readers. And you've also noticed (most likely) Legolas's slight brashness when it comes to Eowyn. I just wanted to make him a little more rebellious and haughty, for now anyway. I hope no one gives up on this story just yet

Pandora.

Chapter 4

He had been weak. He had been tempted, and had been too weak to fight it. Legolas screamed at himself in silence, only the slight shake in his closed fist giving any indication that he was upset. How could he have been so stupid, so idiotic! How could he have allowed himself to get so close to a human, royalty no less? And the way that the King's nephew had looked at him . . . Well, Legolas did not blame him. He simply blamed himself.

He knew now that what he had done was wrong, but he could not find a way to justify his actions, other than the honest fact that she entranced him. She had been so beautiful, trembling in the moonlight. Her skin had looked so cold, so smooth. And her face, those lips . . .

No, he scolded himself. You must stop this. You must concentrate on the task at hand.

Of course. That was the reason that he, Aragorn, Gandalf and Gimli had come to Rohan. To ask for Théoden's support against Sauron. Of course, the Horse-Lord was prepared to fight against the Dark One's armies. He had not, however, been so willing as to send out his armies to Gondor, where Gandalf was certain the final battle would take place. That is why Legolas now stood in the King's golden hall, watching in silence as the wizard, the king and the ranger from the North argued incessantly over the inevitable war.

"I will not risk open war!", Théoden told them angrily.

"Open war is upon you, wether you would risk it or not," Aragorn replied coolly.

Legolas sighed at his friend's rash bluntness. He agreed with Aragorn, of course the fighting would happen, there was no way to deter it. But since he had grown up in a royal court, he knew that Aragorn's manner could easily be offensive to the King.

"When last I looked, Théoden, not Aragorn, was King of Rohan."

Thankfully it was to Legolas that Gandalf cut in before Aragorn had a chance to reply. It was important that none yet know Aragorn was truly the Elessar, the King of Gondor. Even if Théoden was no enemy, Gandalf thought it wise that until the Broken Blade could be re forged, that Aragorn's true identity be well hidden.

" You will then not help us, Théoden?", Gandalf asked softly.

Legolas could read the king's answer in the cold of his eyes.

"But it is not right!", Eowyn exclaimed, "Uncle, we should help them!"

Théoden sat calmly in a large wooden chair. He, his niece and his nephew had flocked to the private family sitting rooms, where they could speak alone, away from their strange guests.

Théoden did not look at Eowyn as she paced back in forth before him. He faced instead his still nephew, Eomer. Eomer sighed, and shook his head at his sister.

"It is not wise to do so until we know more, Sister," he tried to explain as soothingly as he could. "We should not involve this country or its inhabitants until these visitors are willing to share all they know."

"They are keeping something from us, Eowyn," Théoden stated, speaking for the first time.

"But Uncle, we must do something. Surely we cannot simply sit by and watch?", Eowyn cried.

Théoden sighed, and waved his hand at her. The gesture stung her. He was dismissing her. Like a common courtier he was dismissing her. Eowyn willed the tears not to spring into her eyes. Her uncle had always been willing to listen to her thoughts and opinions. He had never thought less of her ideas, simply based on her gender. But here, he sat, calmly telling her she was not wanted. Not needed. The realization hurt her to the quick. Eomer, sensing her distress, put a hand on his sister's trembling shoulders. Eowyn quickly shrugged his hand away. She did not want his pity or for him to comfort her. She wanted to be taken seriously.

"We will speak no more of this, Eowyn. The strangers are leaving Edoras tonight. They are, as we speak, preparing to depart.", Théoden told her soothingly. "Once all this excitement is over, things will return to the way they were. You will return to your archery and swordplay."

"Uncle, what good does my training do if you will not let me fight!", Eowyn said as calmly as she could. She could not risk yelling at him like a spoiled babe. " Please Uncle, let me prove myself to you!"

"You have Eowyn, you have!", Eomer exclaimed. "You fight as well as any soldier and your sparring skills far surpass my own. Please, be content to listen to what your Lord tells you."

"There will be a day," promised Eowyn, "When no Lord will ever again decide how I live my life."

Her anger far from spent, she swept out through the door, leaving her brother and uncle gaping in her wake.

The castle was still as Legolas looked about him one last time. Although it was nothing in comparison to his own Elvish halls, Edoras possessed one kind of beauty that could not rival even the pale majesty of Lorìen. Legolas's eyes strained about in vain for one last sight of her, that fair maiden who had enamored him so. Her long hair, her beautiful, soulful eyes still had him enraptured in his thoughts of her. He wanted so to see her before he left, if even only to apologize for his brash behavior of earlier . . .

Shaking his head, he turned away to follow his companions. Perhaps it was better this way. Perhaps it was better that he did not see her. Maybe it would ease the pain of never being able to know her . . .

No. These thoughts had to stop. He did not even know this woman, save for her name, but what a name. Eowyn . . . His reverie was caught short by the sound of footsteps approaching rapidly from the hall. His keen ears picked up the sound easily, and his mind began to filter the information he was receiving.

These foot falls were too light to belong to some soldier, or even to the king. They were female . . . The sharp click suggested a heeled slipper, something too fine for a servant to be wearing. Daring his luck, he turned to face whoever was so rapidly approaching.

Did he anger Fate by tempting Her so? He could not see how, for upon seeing Eowyn's startled face looking back at him, he knew that Lady Luck was with him. He saw the breath catch in her throat and he could not help but notice the faint color that crawled up into her cheeks.

"My Lady," he whispered, choking on his own words.

Resembling a trapped animal, Eowyn quickly spun on her heel to walk away. Glad for the hair that was partially hiding her face from view, she did not risk looking once more upon the elf that had offended her so. How dare he lay a hand on her? She, the White Lady of these halls? How dare he hold her like he had, how dare he, try to kiss her? ...

"Please, my Lady," the elf's voice was insistent. "I feel as though I should apologize for my rash behavior."

Upon hearing his apology, Eowyn allowed her feet to still. Her breathing slightly troubled, she whipped around more confidently than she felt, and stared back at him.

His light blonde hair in the torchlight nearly took her breath away. The way he stood so tall, his arms hanging strongly at his sides. Arms that had not even two hours ago had held her close.

"I should not have, have approached you so," the elf said calmly, almost as though he were doing her a great honor by admitting this. He did not seem remorseful, if anything, it looked as though his clear blue eyes were laughing at her.

Eowyn felt the deep blush of anger creep into her cheeks. First this elf had the audacity to lay his hands on her, and now he was treating her like a child! The initial shyness gone, the shield maiden glared back at Legolas, the venom in her gaze catching him off guard.

A quick furrow of his clear brow, a slight clouding in his azure eyes, the pause in his breath... Yes, she had captured his attention, perhaps showing him a little of the fire she carried within her. For suddenly, the regal elf had lost some of his composure, and Eowyn had been there to witness it.

"No, my Lord, you should not have done such a thing", Eowyn replied coolly. "But you are not only at fault." Here she paused, allowing her words to sink in, to let him think himself into a false sense of security. Eowyn was pleased, though she did not know why, that he seemed so nervous. "It was wrong of me to allow you to do as you did."

"Allow me?", Legolas repeated slowly "My Lady, please do not carry any of the blame upon yourself. Do not try to stain your own person with the guilt that is solely mine."

"But how could you lay claim to all of it, this guilt master Elf?", she asked coyly. "Surely there were two of us pressed up against that hallway."

The slight red in his cheeks was delicious.

"I know that you are strong, my Lady", he offered graciously. "But please, when I offer my apologies, accept them."

"My Lord...", Eowyn sighed.

"Please Lady, even if you will not admit it, I have most surely offended you, and I am most aggrieved by my actions. Please, your forgiveness," he whispered, "I beg of you."

Those blue eyes were locked deep within her own, and Eowyn felt suddenly exposed, frightened that he could see too deep, into her soul.

"My Lord Elf," she whispered back, "It is not only your fault. As I have said before, I am perfectly able of taking responsibilities for my own actions. However . . . ," she stopped short, blushing furiously.

"However?", he said, taking a step closer, that infuriating grin playing upon his lips.

Damn, why must I color like a simple gossip mongrel of the court? Eowyn shook back her hair and stepped closer, staring bravely into his face.

"I am only sorry that you did not, that we, but of course I mean . . . " Her words could not form themselves.

Smiling at her, he was suddenly standing before her. Taking both her hands in his, Legolas smiled at her, toying with her. Eowyn refused to be timid. Boldly raising herself upon the tips of her toes, she raised her face and met the elf's lips softly.

The kiss was short, much too brief for Eowyn, who could have tasted those soft lips forever. But it was the elf who pulled away, smiling down at her.

"I hope to find you again soon my Lady", he whispered down to her, "That we may continue this, amusing argument."

"Perhaps" she whispered back.

Kissing her one last time on the forehead, Legolas turned to go, leaving Eowyn shaking where she stood.

" I had hoped Théoden would help us", Aragorn said, the frustration filtering into his voice as he mounted his horse. "Or at least swear to come to our aid when the final battle finally encroaches."

"He's frightened Aragorn", Gandalf explained patiently. "He does not fully understand what the wrath of Sauron will entail. Be patient with him."

"The Dark Lord's armies will have no patience with us", Aragorn retorted.

"Théoden is a good man", Gandalf continued, ignoring Aragorn's words. "He will come around in time."

"Come on Aragorn", Gimli called gruffly. "Mount your forsaken beast and let us get on with it. The sooner this ride is over, the better I'll feel."

"Does riding still bother you Gimli?", Legolas asked in jest as he helped the dwarf swing himself into the saddle. "Surely you're used to it by now."

"Tisn't natural", Gimli growled back to Legolas, who mounted gracefully, settling himself in front of Gimli on the horse's back. "Men were meant to use their own legs."

"But neither of us are Men", Legolas retorted, turning to grin at his friend. "If you want to be technical."

"Don't think I wouldna push you off the beast when we get moving pointy-ear", Gimli shot back.

Legolas laughed and faced the front once more.He had shortened the stirrups for Gimli's legs, hoping that they would help the dwarf to stay balanced on the horse's back once they got going. He sighed as he watched Gandalf mount Shadowfax, the wizard's own charge. It was certainly a comfort to have him back amongst them.

"Onward then!", Aragorn called out, galloping past Legolas, Gandalf close behind.

"Am Arod", Legolas called to his horse in elvish.

"Oh no, none of that!", Gimli shouted as he gripped Legolas's waist as he was bounced about on the horse's back. "If you're going to be tellin' this nag anything, it'll be in a language we can all understand."

"Equë Eldandil", Legolas called back to his friend.

Up ahead, Aragorn was laughing.