A/N: The title of this chapter comes from the song "Crash and Burn" by Savage Garden. I recently heard it for the first time in several years and immediately thought about Eomer and everything that he would want to say to Legolas. Here are the lyrics:

When you feel all alone
And the world has turned its back on you
Give me a moment please to tame your wild wild heart
I know you feel like the walls are closing in on you
It's hard to find relief and people can be so cold
When darkness is upon your door and you feel like you can't take anymore

Chorus:

Let me be the one you call
If you jump I'll break your fall
Lift you up and fly away with you into the night
If you need to fall apart
I can mend a broken heart
If you need to crash then crash and burn
You're not alone

When you feel all alone
And a loyal friend is hard to find
You're caught in a one way street
With the monsters in your head
When hopes and dreams are far away and
You feel like you can't face the day

Chorus

And there has always been heartache and pain
And when it's over you'll breathe again
You'll breath again

When you feel all alone
And the world has turned its back on you
Give me a moment please
To tame your wild wild heart

Chorus

The summer was in its failing days when Eomer, king of Rohan, walked through the corridors of Meduseld in a pensive mood. Earlier that very morning when the sun was just rising and he was the only one besides a few guards who was up and about – he enjoyed awaking early and getting a jump on the day so that he had time to do other, more pleasant things later on – he'd received news that could very well mean that summer wasn't the only thing that was in its failing days. After a few weeks of quiet anticipation and absolute dread he'd finally gotten word that the messenger he'd dispatched in secret after talking to Legolas the day of Caladel's first riding lesson was finally due to return at any time.

Eomer cursed himself for being so taken aback. Why else would he have sent out that letter if he didn't want its receiver to respond to it? He'd even come right out and said in the message that he would welcome any representatives that the person wanted to send and indeed according to the reports that were whispered in his ear his chosen messenger was not returning to Edoras alone. The fact that others had come didn't surprise Eomer in the least bit and the rational part of him knew that it would be for the best in the end; but there was also a selfish part of him that was sad at this turn of events.

The last few months had been the happiest of Eomer's recent life – of his whole life, even. Why shouldn't they have been? Every morning he woke up knowing that he was going to get to see the fairest, sharpest-tongued, intelligent, and kindest person that he knew and that the person in question would be happy to see him too. That was all that even his most foolish hopes had allowed him to fantasize about, but reality had gone a step farther in bringing him happiness by making Caladel a part of his life. Once the two elves started having all their meals with him Eomer soon found that he looked forward to the boy's enthusiastic hugs and contributions to the conversation just as much (but in a different way) as he did to spending time with Legolas. It was like having a family again – as it was the Man was often content to forget that he wasn't really Caladel's sire or Legolas' romantic partner – and that made him feel more happy and whole than he'd been since Eowyn had left for Ithilien. Now it was more likely than not those days would be over with.

Still, he figured that they would have time for one more pleasant breakfast before the party of riders came and everything changed. That was why he was in the corridor and not still in his office: after nodding his thanks to the guard that passed on the information about what was coming he had left that room to go to the kitchens. If this was to be their last meal as a "family" than it was going to be one of special remembrance. With a mixture of grim determination and a sort of childlike giddiness at planning the nice meal he pushed open the doors to the kitchen and walked in.

"My king!" gasped the cook, an older woman who'd been working there since a little bit before he and Eowyn first came to live in the Golden Hall. "I was just starting your breakfast. Is anything wrong?"

So many things, but nothing that she could do anything about so Eomer shook his head. "I'm glad I got here when I did, then," he said with forced lightness. "I have some special requests for that very meal."

The woman couldn't help but gape when he detailed what he wanted to be served. "My, that's…a lot," she marveled. "Thank the Valar for kitchen help. May I inquire if it's someone's birthday? Young Caladel was just in here the other day going on about what he wanted to do for his."

"Neither he or Legolas have told me that it's his," replied Eomer politely. "And it's not anyone else's either. I just wanted to our guests to have a special meal."

"They're hardly guests anymore. If you'll allow me to be so bold," she smiled at Eomer, who nodded, "this seems more like the kind of treat reserved for an after-battle celebration, holidays, birthdays – or when one person wants to start courting another person."

Not many servants would dare to speak so boldly to their king even with his permission but this cook was a kitchen girl when Eomer was still a little boy sneaking treats at all hours of the day. She'd spent his formative years scolding him, and he'd looked to her more than any of the other servants for maternal advice whenever he desired it. Now both were too uncomfortable with the idea of them speaking to each other in the typical king-servant way to let it happen.

"It's a treat," stressed Eomer, though he couldn't stop himself from flushing just a little. Besides the fact that he was reluctant to have these incomers change his life as it was now, he really did wish that the whole meal could have been about beginning the wooing process with Legolas. That was not to be, though, as Legolas was dealing with the still-fresh emotional wounds from his relationship with Caladel's sire. Any idiot could see that he wasn't ready for anything more than friendship and Eomer was no idiot when it came to Legolas – most of the time. "Nothing more, nothing less."

The cook clucked her tongue and reached for the nearest pan. "That's a pity," she commented with a touch of sadness and wisdom. "Two such nice people as yourself and the prince deserve so much more than just settling on being alone together."

"How can two people be alone if they're together?" wondered Eomer cheekily, raising his eyebrows.

"I think you already know the answer to that," replied the cook. Her face brightened up again. "Oh well, that's not for me to figure out; I have a breakfast to make. I'm going to have to ask you to scoot, your majesty; if I'm going to have all of this done by the time that your guests and nothing more get to the dining hall I'm going to have to start now."

Eomer laughed and dutifully left the kitchen in the old woman's capable hands. With no reason to go back to his quarters and not wanting to return to his office – trouble seemed to find him there more quickly than anywhere else – he opted to sit in the dining hall. Too bad he wasn't able to find any peace there either. As soon as he sat down at the time he found that his mind couldn't help but mull over all of the scenarios that could happen once the riding party reached Edoras from the bad to the very worst.

Time flew by quickly as he imagined all the various ways in which his heart could be completely shattered and soon Eomer was startled by a hand suddenly coming up from behind him to grasp his shoulder. "Oh, dear Valar!" he gasped before he could stop himself.

A melodic laugh came as he felt the hand move away and a second later Legolas sat down next to him. "Good morning," the elf greeted Eomer cheerfully, all while giving him a mischievous smile. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to sneak up on you. Of course, being an elf, a more experienced warrior, and a superior tracker I suppose I can't really take the blame for that – I can't help it."

"Oh, really?" asked Eomer with a quirk of his eyebrow. Legolas, it seemed, had a very keen and wry sense of humor that the Man could appreciate. Soon after they started having meals together this started breaking through his polite exterior; one thing had led to another and the two of them had established a breezy banter between them. "It would break your heart, then, to find out that I only pretend to be startled to make you feel good about yourself?"

"Not at all," replied Legolas with a grin. He leaned in close, getting almost nose-to-nose with Eomer as his blue eyes flashed good-naturedly. "I've always enjoyed a good story and that one's got to be the biggest work of fiction that I've ever heard."

It took all of Eomer's willpower not to lick his lips. They were so close; it felt like something was trying to pull him into leaning forward. In his mind he could see himself filling in the space between them and claiming Legolas' mouth in the loving kind of kiss that the elf prince always deserved…

"You two are so odd," broke in Caladel. Legolas laughed again and slid back down the bench as his son worked his way in between him and Eomer to give the Man his good-morning hug. "Carrying on like that every day like you're arguing or something! Anyone who hears you might think that you don't like each other."

Eomer smiled reassuringly as he returned the boy's embraced, grateful to him for breaking the moment before he went and did anything that he couldn't undo. "And they'd be wrong," he told Caladel grandly. "Your ada and I just have a different way of talking to each other, one that doesn't include the insincere flattery or uptight properness that comes from people who know how to control their tongues."

"He's teasing me again," Legolas informed Caladel blithely.

"How can I resist when it's so easy?" asked Eomer. He leaned down to speak to Caladel again, dropping his volume to that of a conspiratorial whisper as he added, "Never tell him this but I actually think that he's one of the finest people that I know."

"I can hear you, you know," whispered Legolas in the same tone and volume, leaning over so that his head was clustered together with theirs'. Caladel giggled. "Normally I would have to punish a person for speaking so freely about me and doing such a poor job of hiding it. Fortunately for Eomer, I happen to think the same thing about him."

Then Legolas flashed him a brilliant smile, one that was free of teasing and filled only with light, happiness, and sincerity. Seeing it made Eomer's heart grow, twist, beat faster, and burst all at the same time. He wished that these encounters could go on forever and regretted – not for the first time – his decision to send out that infernal message. Why couldn't things stay as they were? If they did have to change, why couldn't they have changed for the better? Somewhere, in a perfect place, Caladel and Legolas would be living in his suite, not one down the hall; they would be a family and he wouldn't have to stop himself from kissing Legolas…while the elf called him his husband…

"Breakfast is served," announced a triumphant voice from behind them. Legolas drew back and sat up straight again while Caladel slid under the table to get to the other side, where he usually sat for meals. Eomer shook himself out of his daydream. Really, he had to be more careful about where he thought about that sort of thing! The last thing that he wanted to do was one day give into his impulses and ruin the deepening friendship that he had with the elf.

The servant who had interrupted his thoughts walked forward to place a platter that was stacked unsteadily high with pancakes in the middle of the table. Once he stepped aside a boy came up from behind him to set a tray so full of pastries that one couldn't see the bottom of it down right next to the pancakes before moving aside so that a girl balancing several plates of differently cooked eggs had a place to set her burden down. Bacon followed after that, and then sausage, and then the fruit trays; this went on and on until the table was covered with every type of breakfast food imaginable.

"Wow," breathed a clearly impressed Caladel as his father poured him a glass of orange juice.

"I must agree," concurred Legolas, sounding only slightly less impressed than Caladel but much more confused. "Is there going to be other people joining us today, Eomer, or is this your way of trying to fatten all of us up?"

'Yes, there are people coming but I'll be damned if I let them join in on this breakfast,' though Eomer, melancholy. 'Please good Valar, don't let them get here until after this is over with!'

"No," the Man answered him out loud. "It's going to be just the three of us, like it normally is. Can't a king simply feel like treating his…friends to a little something extra one morning?"

"Of course you can, and I'm glad you picked today!" declared Caladel resolutely. He grabbed his fork and reached for the closest item – the pancakes – and only paused when he felt his father's reproachful eyes on him.

Blushing sheepishly, the boy smiled in the general direction of Eomer and the servants (who were lingering by the doorway). "Thank you, Eomer; thank you everyone," he said to them. "Now can I eat, Ada?"

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Eomer shook his head in astonishment after a full Caladel had bounded out of the room. "If I didn't know any better," he said to Legolas, "I would swear that your child is more than half a hobbit."

Legolas snorted in the kind of way that one does when they're trying not to laugh with a mouth full of juice – which was exactly the elf's predicament. "Don't do that when I'm drinking!" he scolded good-naturedly, wiping at his mouth to make sure that none of the liquid escaped. He surveyed the empty places that were surrounding his son's place and the table and cocked his head to the side. "Though I must admit that it sometimes seems that way; it would have been a very awkward joining, however…"

"Legolas!" guffawed Eomer, feigning outrage. "Is it entirely proper for a prince to tell that type of – brazen – joke?"

"Brazenness seems to be the theme of the day," returned Legolas. "Really, pancakes and pastries? I swear, Eomer, if his tutor comes to me with tales of woe about how my sugar-riddled son won't sit still, a part of your punishment will be me sending them to speak to you."

Grinning, Eomer leaned forward. "Do your worst," he challenged teasingly.

"Sire?" The king closed his eyes briefly and looked away from Legolas to the doorway, where the voice was coming from A guard stood there awkwardly, sensing that he interrupted something that maybe he wouldn't have wanted to. "My apologizes for the intrusion, your majesty – to you as well, Prince Legolas – but the party that you've been waiting for is in sight of the city's gates."

"Thank you," nodded Eomer, deliberately avoiding Legolas' questioning gaze. "That will be all."

The elf waited until the guard had left before speaking again. "There's a party coming?" he wondered. "As in a party of riders? You never mentioned anything about this before."

Eomer sighed and gripped the edge of the table with both hands. "Would you mind coming outside with me?" he asked.

"Eomer?" replied Legolas in confusion. Usually the Man wasn't so evasive and Legolas never went with him to greet visitors to Edoras. "What's going on?"

"Please trust me," requested Eomer hopefully.

Legolas hesitated momentarily, uneasy with the strangeness of the situation and Eomer's reluctance to explain. But the Man had never given him reason to distrust him and when the second of stillness was over with he then rose to his feet and walked alongside his friend out off the dining hall, through the corridors, and all the way to the main doors of Meduseld. The brief trip was silent as Eomer struggled with the right words that would make his companion understand why he sent word to their visitors and Legolas worried about why the Man was being so secretive.

Only when he reached to open the doors of the Golden Hall did Eomer finally speak. "I did something," he confessed.

Every muscle in Legolas' body tensed. There was only one person that Eomer wouldn't tell him that he contacted, and only one type of message that he wouldn't tell him about until it was too late. "It's a party from Gondor, isn't it?" he demanded.

"Legolas –"

"You contacted Aragorn and told him that I was here?" he cut him off, furious and betrayed. "I thought that I could trust you, Eomer! Oh, I have to get Caladel and get out of here now!"

"No!" Eomer caught Legolas before he could go anywhere. "They're not from Gondor. I made a promise not to say anything to Aragorn and I won't break it without your consent."

"It's not Aragorn?" Legolas started breathing again. "Then who?"

Eomer smiled sadly but encouragingly at the elf as he opened the door and gestured for him to come outside. "Come and see for yourself," he said.

Against his better judgment Legolas walked out onto the top of the staircase and looked out at the party that was not entering the gates of Edoras. He was relieved to see that it indeed was clearly not from Gondor; then panic struck as recognition set in. "That's my father!" he exclaimed, backing up toward the door. Eomer stood in front of it, though, effectively blocking his escape route. "You told my father that I was here? Did you tell him about Caladel too? You had no right!"

"Hear me out, please," begged Eomer. "I didn't write a word about Caladel and my messenger knew not to say anything either. I just did what I thought was best for you and him –"

"Who are you to decide who that is?" Legolas raged.

"Well, who are you to decide that your father's better off not knowing where you are or that Caladel exists?" countered Eomer. "You think that you're protecting him, but in truth there's a part of you that's angry at him because you think he'll reject you and your son and you won't give him the opportunity to decide either way! Legolas, don't let your anger and fear that your father won't be strong enough to love you stop you from trying to mend your relationship with him. Trust me; I know what it's like for those emotions to stand between you and the person that you love as a father."

"I am not angry or afraid," snapped Legolas, glowering at him.

Eomer stood his ground. "Then prove it."

At this challenge the rest of the world seemed to grow silent until only the sound of a horse's footfalls echoed in Legolas' sharp ears. Then that noise stopped and, feeling eyes boring into the back of him, knew that a certain elf had dismounted. "Legolas?" called a familiar voice that had never sounded so tentative in all his years of life.

"Ada," said Legolas in a trembling voice. He turned around and saw his father standing at the foot of the stairs. For the first time ever he didn't know what to say to him; so he simply waved awkwardly. "Hi, Ada."

Thranduil let out a wordless cry and rushed up the steps, not stopping until he'd reached his long-missing child and engulfed him in an almost desperate embrace. "My son, my son, my son," he sobbed, burying his face in Legolas' neck.

Legolas closed his eyes when felt his father's hot tears against his skin. His own body was quivering with pent-up emotion and it was all he could do not to break down on the spot. "I'm sorry, Ada," he babbled. "I was trying to spare everyone pain but all I ended up doing was cause it. I couldn't do anything right back then and I still can't now."

"What are you saying?" asked Thranduil. He pulled away just enough to get a good look at his son and was stunned to see fear in his eyes. Legolas was afraid…of him? "Legolas, I love you. People make mistakes, but that doesn't mean that they can't do anything right. Whatever it was that you were trying to protect me from, it doesn't matter now. There is nothing that can change how I feel about you. I just want to know what drove you away."

Looking down so that he wouldn't have to see Thranduil's reaction, Legolas licked his lips. "I had a baby," he admitted tearfully.

"Perhaps," Eomer cleared his throat, knowing from the look of shock on Thranduil's face and the way that Legolas hung his head that the pair would need some more privacy than the stairs of Meduseld could provide, "you two would like to come inside to talk. I'll see to the rest of your party, King Thranduil."

"Yes," said the elven king, dazed. "Yes, that sounds like a good idea."

Legolas spared Eomer the briefest of glances before leading his father inside the building. Knowing that it wasn't in Thranduil's nature to hold his tongue until they reached the suite that he shared with Caladel, the younger elf steered him to the first private place that he could think of – Eomer's office. "All right, Ada," he said, bracing himself as he closed the door.

"All right?" repeated Thranduil incredulously. "All right? All right what? All you told me is that you had a baby! Surely there's more to the story than that, Legolas. Where's there rest?"

"There's not much more to it," replied Legolas miserably. "I – became involved with a Man during the War. It wasn't the best idea ever to sleep with him but back then if felt like tomorrow wasn't going to come and I figured that there was no sense in waiting. I didn't find out that I was pregnant until weeks after the War was over. I decided then not to burden you or Mirkwood by coming home alone bearing my child. I didn't…"

"Legolas," said Thranduil as the younger elf's head went down again. He gently cupped his face and guided it upright until they were looking in each other's eyes. "What is it?"

"I didn't want to have to be ashamed of my baby," confessed Legolas. "He was conceived and born out of wedlock and I know how people talk, especially about royalty. But I love him more than I will ever be able to describe, even back then."

"Do you really think so little of me?" wondered Thranduil, truly hurt. He saw the tears that formed in his son's eyes but didn't fall and understood – Legolas hadn't thought so little of him, but of himself. "Legolas, the way that you feel about your son is the way that I feel about you: that's how much I love you. I've been in wars too; I know how emotions can intensify and get out of control. I wouldn't ask for you to feel ashamed, or felt ashamed myself, or tolerated anyone speaking so ill of my son and grandson. It's not your fault or his that your lover fell before you could get married…"

His voice trailed off when he saw Legolas wince. "He did die, didn't he?" asked Thranduil slowly. Legolas wordlessly shook his head. "Are you telling me that he abandoned you and your child? This is unacceptable! He will have to answer for this – who is he?"

"No!" Legolas practically shrieked. "No revenge, no wars, no more fighting and death! I'm sick of it and I can't bear the thought of exposing Caladel to it too! The past is over with; let it rest, please! I chose not to tell him."

The door opened suddenly and Eomer appeared. "Oh," he said, surprised. "I didn't realize that you two were in here."

"I'm sorry," apologized Legolas. "We'll leave your office."

Thranduil dug his heels in, not willing to leave until he got an answer. "Who is the sire?" he demanded protectively. "Why would you choose not to tell him? Was he violent? Did he threaten you? I won't let him get away with it, Legolas!"

Legolas looked helplessly at his father and then over at Eomer with the same expression. It was then that the Man realized just what Legolas was protecting his father from: starting a destructive war in the name of protecting his child's honor. Why didn't he talk to the elf before his father's arrival so that he could work out a better story? Well, if Legolas had to think on his feet, he would do the same. "King Thranduil, it was a big misunderstanding."

Had Eomer figured it out? If so, Legolas couldn't him tell his father! "Eomer –"

"It's all right, Legolas," interrupted Eomer in a strange voice, giving him a meaningful look. "You see, Legolas didn't want to burden me, as my life was changing so much as it was. I understand why he did it – he's always been so overprotective of the people he cares about – but I regret making him feel like I wouldn't want to be a part of Caladel's life."

"You're the sire of my grandson?" asked Thranduil, not sure if he should believe it.

"He is," affirmed Legolas hastily, just glad to have a way to answer his father's questions without starting a Mannish-elvish war.

"And are you two going to get married?" pressed Thranduil, studying their reactions closely.

"No," said Legolas. "Eomer offered, of course," he added, imagining the army of Mirkwood besieging Edoras' gates, "but I refused. You said yourself that war makes emotions feel more intense, Ada, and when we were together we thought that we were in love but we weren't. While I care about him deeply, I can't marry someone that I don't love."

Eomer could tell that Thranduil didn't quite believe it. "I can't imagine what you must be feeling right now," he said to him, though he was really addressing both elves. "I just want you to know that both Caladel and Legolas are my family now and I am proud to claim your grandson as my child."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

That night Eomer laid down on top of the covers of his bed, going over the day's events in his head. Thranduil's introduction to Caladel had gone rather like Gimli's, with the boy enthusiastically embracing him and the older elf melting on the spot. Legolas had informed him father beforehand that the boy was 'still getting used to the idea of having his sire around' so that Thranduil wouldn't talk too much about Caladel's paternity or look too surprised when he called the Man 'Eomer' and not some variant of 'Father'. That new complication would have to be sorted out the next day between him and Legolas.

Eomer was contemplating trying to sleep when a knock sounded on his door. "Come in," he called. He sat up quickly when Legolas entered and shut the door behind him. "Legolas! What are you doing here?"

Legolas opened his mouth, snapped it shut, and then opened it again. "You were right," he admitted reluctantly. "I was angry, and I was afraid because of it."

The Man didn't say anything. "I've spent so many years being angry," continued Legolas. "Angry at my father because I was afraid that he would reject us; angry at Gimli because I was afraid that he would scorn me; angry at myself for getting into this situation in the first place and dragging my innocent child into it too; angry" – tears were in his eyes and he wiped at them harshly – "angry at him for putting me in this position by leaving me…"

"Oh, Legolas," murmured Eomer, getting up and hurrying to the elf's side when he saw that he was shaking. "You've been holding it in for so long. Let go; it's all right to cry."

"No it isn't," replied Legolas sharply. "I'll be letting him win if I cry."

"Or you'll be letting him out," said Eomer wisely. "He's been festering in your soul for over five years now. Let yourself feel all of that now and release him."

Legolas gave a keening cry; Eomer caught him in his arms as the elf's knees almost gave out under the weight of the emotional wave. "I loved him with all that I was," sobbed Legolas, his tears, mournful and angry, falling at last. "I did everything that he ever asked of me and still he left me in the elf, all the while professing that he would always be in love with me. Why? Why did I let him do that to me?"

Eomer said nothing, knowing that there were no words to say. He just continued to hold Legolas until his sobs subsided. "I feel better," noted Legolas.

"Good," smiled Eomer softly. "It's about time."

"You're a good friend, Eomer," Legolas told him, still not moving out of his arms. "It takes a good friend to make you see how you're hurting yourself and others by being stubborn. I'm sorry that I yelled at you. It was nice of you to tell Ada that you're Caladel's sire after all of that."

"I figured that you needed some time and it was my fault for not making sure that you had it before he got here," said Eomer. "But we can find a way to deal with what I told him tomorrow."

Legolas was quiet for a moment. "Actually, if you don't mind…"

"What?" Eomer could scarcely believe it. "You want me to keep claiming Caladel as mine? I mean, I'd be happy to; but why?"

"You – well, you're practically doing the duties of a sire anyway," Legolas tried to explain, pulling away to look him in the eyes. "We'll have to tell Caladel that you really aren't, of course, but I can't really think of anyone else who deserves the title of his sire more than you – if you want it."

"I do," Eomer grinned broadly. "Does that mean that you two aren't going back to Mirkwood or to anywhere else? You're going to stay?"

Legolas laughed a little. "At this rate, we'll probably be staying for as long as you'll have us."

To be continued...