Life had been going well – better than well, actually – for Eomer of Rohan. King Thranduil had come and departed the realm to return to his own land without taking either his son or grandson with him. Although he hated to see Legolas and Caladel saddened by the elven king's departure Eomer wasn't entirely unhappy to see him leave – Thranduil had the tendency to look at him like he could see right through him and the Man found this quite disconcerting. The visit hadn't even been all that long, as Thranduil hadn't planned on needing to stay (guessing that either the whole message was a hoax or a mistake; or else he would find his child and take him home again after letting the horses rest for a brief time) and now that the whole ordeal of his stay was over Eomer could focus on the good times that took place then and put the more awkward moments out of his mind.
Of course, the memory that stood out above almost all of the others was of the morning after Thranduil first arrived; when he and Legolas spoke to Caladel about what they'd told Legolas' father about who the boy's sire was.
O – Flashback – O
Eomer felt his cheeks flush a little as he stood awkwardly by Legolas' side. He was a mature adult ('a king, for the Valar's sake!' he scolded himself silently) and it was absolutely ridiculous for him to act like a swooning teenager who's been let into the bedchamber of the one he loved. It wasn't as if he'd never been in there before! Still, he hadn't stepped foot inside of the elves' suite since the day that Gimli had barged in; telling himself over and over again that he was just giving Legolas the privacy that he needed. The truth was, however, that his resolve to stay out of there had intensified in direct proportion with the growth of his feelings for the older elf.
Spending a significant time with Legolas every day had done nothing to diminish Eomer's puppy-like crush – born out of a powerful physical attraction and the elf's unasked for but not unwelcome shows of support after the War – on him. Time revealed that, in fact, the opposite was true: the lovesick pangs that he used to get whenever he looked at his guest had deepened into a different feeling entirely. The king of Rohan felt a general sense of completion all the time, and his heart seemed to grow every time that he thought about Legolas, Caladel, and having the two of them in his life. He was beginning to suspect that the more-than-just-like love was quickly transforming into being in love – of course, if he wasn't in love with Legolas already.
Unfortunately for him, Legolas didn't seem inclined to feel the more-than-just-like love for him, let alone actually being in love with him. Oh, there was a great deal of friendly affection between the two of them with their banter and moments of understanding and encouragement; but – at least on Legolas' end – that's all that it was: friendly affection. This, and the reason he suspected was behind it, broke Eomer's heart, and not just because of his own feelings. The Man wasn't selfish in his love – he greatly desired to see the elf blissful even if it wasn't with him – but there was one person that he couldn't bear to see the prince end up with and that was the same person that he assumed that Legolas had love-type feelings for: Caladel's real sire.
It was enough to make even the sanest Man lament about the fairness of the world. Eomer's blood boiled with a fury that scared him a little bit whenever he thought about how that unworthy scoundrel had left Legolas; yet it was he who held at least some of the elf's love while blocking Legolas' willingness or ability to look for love elsewhere. Oh, it was plain to see that a lot of anger and grief had diluted what had obviously once been so pure of love that must have been there. However, the fact of the matter was that Legolas wouldn't be so wrapped up in any of those other emotions if he didn't still possess some feelings for the Man.
'Have hope; even if he never loves you, that doesn't mean that he will always love Caladel's sire,' Eomer took care to remind himself. Those lingering feelings might have more to do with the fact that Legolas had internalized them for so long. He was only just starting to deal with his anger, hurt, and with them his love for the Man. Eomer could only hope that as he continued to do so he would find that he was able to let that Man go. Then, then he would be free to find love with someone more deserving of it; and that's exactly what the king wanted for him, even if that more deserving person wasn't Eomer.
He shook himself out of his musings. All of what he'd been going over and over in his mind wouldn't be happening any time soon and no good would come from obsessing over it. Besides, the task at hand was too important to be thinking about anything else, let alone wondering about things that might never be. "All right," Eomer told Legolas in a choked voice. He cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice steady but he was so thrilled about what they were about to do that he could barely stand it. "This is it. I think I'm ready."
"Are you certain?" asked Legolas, mistaking the Man's almost crippling eagerness for regret and hesitation. Eomer had been so kind to him and his son; the last thing that he wanted to do was take advantage of that, no matter how unintentional it might be. It would be better not to go through with telling Caladel anything than trapping both him and Eomer in this lie. "You don't have to do this if you don't feel like you can, Eomer. I can always explain all of this to my father and try to make him understand."
"And what magical words to do you have that would do that without revealing who Caladel's real sire is?" asked Eomer kindly. "You've made it abundantly clear that his identity must remain a secret for everyone's sake; if you went and told your father now that I not the sire I doubt that he would settle for any explanation less than full disclosure."
"That may be," conceded Legolas doubtfully, "but that doesn't mean that it's fair for me to drag you into it."
"As I recall, I barged in on your conversation and blurted out that I was Caladel's sire without getting your consent first," Eomer reminded him. "I'm not too keen on the idea of King Thranduil thinking that I go around claiming that I've sired children when I haven't. The way that I see it, I have already declared myself to be Caladel's sire, you have already confirmed it, and now neither of us can rescind that without creating an even more gigantic mess."
"But I don't want you to continue to claim Caladel as your son just because we managed to talk ourselves into a corner with Ada," argued Legolas. "We've taken advantage of your hospitality enough already. People – well, people get tired of other people very quickly when they feel as if they're being forced to have them around."
The catch in his voice made Eomer look at him closely; Legolas met his gaze for a few moments before biting his lower lip and darting his eyes away. "Legolas," the Man asked carefully, "what did you mean by that?"
"I'm…I'm not used to being such a mess," admitted Legolas. "Relying on others isn't really something that I know how to do properly but I find that I've been leaning on you more than I have any other person in my entire life. I know that you must think I'm rather pathetic but I –"
"Don't say it, Legolas, because it's not true," Eomer asserted firmly, unconsciously taking a step toward him. "I'm not doing this because I pity either you or Caladel; nor do I feel obligated in any way. Never, ever think that I claimed to be his sire because of regretful slip of the tongue."
"I didn't mean to imply that your motivation was flawed," stressed Legolas. Only someone who'd spent a lot of time with him and thus knew him well could have seen through his diplomatic exterior to see how uncertain and anxious the elf truly was. "I just…"
He blushed and turned away. Despite everything Eomer found that he was having a hard time suppressing a huge smile. "Yes?" he encouraged him gently. "You know that you can tell me."
"It's just – well, I've come to value our friendship a great deal," Legolas told him with a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth. "And I hold your relationship with my son with just as much esteem. It would be terrible if the two of us lost those because of regrets and bitter obligations. You…you've become too important to me – to us – for that to happen."
"And so have you two to me," confided Eomer, his heart almost bursting at Legolas' quiet but powerful confession. He managed to resist the urge to take him into his arms again, but couldn't stop himself from resting his hand tenderly on the elf's shoulder. "Before you and Caladel came here I used to wake up every morning thinking only about what I, as the king of Rohan, had to do for my people and real that day. It was an efficient but lonely existence. Do you know what my first thoughts in the morning are now, Legolas?"
The elf looked up into his eyes and wordlessly shook his head. "They are of you and Caladel," declared Eomer with a little too much passion. He took a quick mental note to tone it down a bit lest he startle Legolas into backing away from his own emotions. "I think about how much I look forward to getting a good-morning hug from him before we eat breakfast, and about how much I enjoy speaking with you while we eat. I get excited about watching him discover all the new things in the world and witnessing you being his father. You're a wonderful father, Legolas; but you must know that."
"I try," Legolas told him quietly. "But it's nice to hear it from someone else."
"And I'm glad that I can do that too," Eomer tenderly teased him. "In general, the time that I get to spend with the two of you has become one of the highlights of my day – my life. Dear Valar, Legolas, you and Caladel have brought life back to Meduseld and made me Eomer the person – not just Eomer the king – once more. Why then do you think that I would ever regret calling Caladel my child? Is there anything in all of this that I haven't been doing that a sire would?"
"Nothing at all," whispered Legolas, his voice thick with emotion. As his friendship with Eomer deepened, he found himself becoming more and more surprised with how repressed he'd allowed his feelings to become. His own declarations about how important the Man was to his life and the life of his son seemed so cold in comparison to Eomer's charged declaration. The least that he could do now was be honest and try to be just as open. "Eomer, I – I – when I said that I valued your relationship with me and my son I didn't mean to sound so…distant."
"You didn't," Eomer reassured him.
"Let me finish, please; this isn't easy," said Legolas, letting out a breathless sort of laughter in an attempt to disguise his discomfort. "What I should have said was that you make me feel both like I can be the best father in all the lands and at the same time that I deserve to be more than just Caladel's father. As for him, you fill a void in his life that I hadn't before been able to admit was there. I could not ask for better when it comes to my child's other parent."
Everything that Eomer was trying to suppress suddenly crashed through the barrier and he found that he couldn't resist the urge to hold his secret love anymore. "Come here," he urged him gently, opening his arms.
Legolas entered into them without hesitation and wrapped his own arms around the Man's back. To Eomer it felt so natural and right to hold him as such that he closed his eyes and took a few moments to savor the feeling. "No matter how unintentional it was, or how unconventional it is," the Man said, "the three of us have become a family. If you need any more reassurances, the truth is that I pretty much considered myself to be Caladel's other father already. I might not have thought the actual words, but the feelings were all there. I suppose that I just needed a reason to say it out loud."
"Speaking of saying things out loud," said Legolas as he carefully disengaged himself from the king's embrace. Eomer found himself missing being that physically close to him already. "If we're resolved to go along with our story we need to get around to actually telling Caladel. If I know Ada – and I do – he won't be able to be tactful about this subject for too long; and my son will have to be prepared for his questions when they come." He stopped for a second as something he'd never thought about before suddenly occurred to him. "Our son," he amended."
"Pardon?"
"Our son," repeated Legolas, bemused. "You're going to be his sire, Eomer; we'll have to get used to calling him 'our' son."
Our son. It surprised Eomer to find that those words made him feel a bit bittersweet through all of his elation. This was something he'd been wanting more and more with each passing day but at the same time he knew that it wasn't real. Just because Legolas called Caladel theirs didn't mean that he actually meant it – he hadn't said anything about thinking of the boy as their son, after all. 'Not now, perhaps,' thought the little part of him that never gave up hope that all of his dreams would come true. 'But you should know by now that just because something isn't happening at this very moment doesn't mean that it will never happen later. You don't want to start a relationship with Legolas now, when it might ignite instantly in the face of his pain only to burn for a short while and then die down when he's recovered, leaving only a cloud of bitter fumes. It is worth taking the time to build a strong foundation before you attempt to go and build the house.'
"Eomer?" asked Legolas. The Man blinked, focusing his mind back on the here and now. Legolas was staring at him curiously. "I lost you there for a minute; that's happened more than a few times before. Where do you go during that time?"
"I just do that when I have a lot to think about," replied Eomer, hoping that he didn't sound too cagey.
"Did I alarm you with that 'our son' business?" wondered Legolas regretfully. "I'm sorry – maybe we should establish some boundaries –"
Eomer waved his hand to cut him off before he led the conversation down that road again. "I was just trying out the phrase in my head," the Man reassured him. "I like it."
"Are you sure?"
"Oh, yes; rolls off the tongue quite nicely."
That got a laugh and an eye roll out of Legolas. "You sound just like a hobbit, or at least the hobbits that I've met," he commented. With a nod and a steeling breath he walked over to Caladel's bedchamber door, Eomer at his heels. "Here goes nothing. Caladel!"
"I'm almost ready to go to breakfast, Ada!" the boy called back.
"Eomer and I would like to speak with you for a moment or two if that's all right with you," replied Legolas. "May we come in so that we don't have to keep shouting?"
"Sure," said Caladel in a cheerful tone. "The door's not locked."
Indeed it wasn't; the handle gave easily and soon the elf and Man were in the bedchamber. Caladel was standing in front of his vanity mirror; he turned to face them as they entered and they were able to get a really good look at him. The boy was dressed appropriately enough for a meal that would include his grandfather but his hair looked as if, well, as if a four-year-old had attempted to fix it up. "I tried to do the braids," noted Caladel unconcernedly. "It didn't work."
Legolas shook his head in a 'why me?' sort of way. "I can see that," he said wryly. Marching across the room, he took the boy's hand, leading Caladel over to the bed and urging him to sit down at the edge. "Let me see if I can detangle it. I think that we can take a few extra minutes to get down to breakfast if it means that your grandfather won't take one look at you and decide that I'm a hopelessly incompetent father. Eomer and I need to talk to you before we go to the dining hall anyway."
As if that were his cue Eomer sat down next to Caladel on the bed, smiling apprehensively under the boy's curious stare while Legolas went to grab the comb and a few hair ties before hurrying back to settle down on the elfling's other side. Caladel's eyes darted back and forth between them, his expression growing more and more inquisitive as each silent moment passed. Eomer found that his nervous stomach was getting queasier. How were they going to explain all of this to someone that age in a way that he would understand? He was a grown adult and even he could barely wrap his mind around it. Thankfully (for Eomer, at any rate) this task would fall mainly on Legolas, with him there to provide support, affirmation, and supportive arguments.
The elf didn't seem to know where to start either. "My son," he finally said as he combed and braided. "What do you know about sires?"
"I didn't mean to listen," answered Caladel promptly.
"What?" wondered Legolas, pausing to give him a strange look.
"You never told me anything about him, but you know that I know some things and you know how I found them out," said Caladel. "All right, I did listen sometimes when you and Treebeard talked after I was supposed to go to sleep but I couldn't help it! All I found out was that he was a Man and that I don't look like him at all."
"I didn't mean to imply that you were in trouble in any way," said Legolas, definitely uncomfortable with how personal the topic had gotten – especially in Eomer's presence. "I just wanted to find out what you knew about sires. All of that is true about yours, but what do you know about sires in general?"
Caladel frowned. "I don't know what you mean by that," he said bluntly.
"Well, how do you think that a sire should act?" pressed Legolas as he combed a bit of the elfling's snarled hair smooth. Caladel hissed at the sting to his scalp and Legolas bent down to kiss it better before continuing about his business. "You've seen your friend's sires – how they act around their children – and heard your friends talking about them. Now you've had the chance to see your grandfather – my sire – with me. Based on all of that, what do you think that a sire should be like?"
Caladel thought hard for a moment, crinkling his brow in an adorable way and tapping his finger against his chin. "Nice, I guess," he said at last. "Bedric's sire was really nice to me the last time I went to his home. And Thedlef's sire once took us to see where he keeps his carving tools, and even showed us how to make stuff. Oh, and Godrun's sire comes down to watch him ride his horse whenever he can. And Grandfather, Ada – he loves you a lot. He always looks so happy every time he sees you, even when you've only been gone for a second!"
"So, according to all of that we see that a sire is nice, goes to riding lessons whenever he can, show you things about the world, and is always happy to see you," recapped Legolas, brightly but serious. He put down the comb for a second and gently turned his son's head so that the boy was facing him, looking at him with those large blue eyes. "That sounds right to me. Now I must ask you to think, Caladel: do you have anyone in your life right now who fits all of those requirements?"
"You, of course, Ada," replied Caladel cheerfully.
Legolas kissed his forehead and resumed the work on his hair. "Yes, I suppose that I do that," he said with false modesty. "But is there anyone else?"
The boy opened his mouth but ended up letting out a short yelp instead of saying any words when the comb encountered a particularly nasty snarl. Eomer instinctively grabbed his hand comfortingly. Caladel gave him a grateful flash of a smile before his eyes lit up with realization. "Eomer's like that too!" he declared.
"Huh," said Legolas as if he'd never thought of that before. Maybe it would be easier for Caladel to accept it if he thought that it was his idea. "I guess then that you could say that Eomer is your sire."
"But he's not," argued Caladel in confusion. "He couldn't be."
"Why not?" wondered Legolas, his heart breaking a little. In all of the worrying he'd done between deciding to ask Eomer to continue to claim Caladel as his and this moment he'd never once thought about what if the boy didn't want the Man to take on that responsibility. They just seemed so close that he'd assumed that it was a given.
The boy grabbed a lock of hair, holding it out from his own head before doing the same to one of Eomer's and holding them side-by-side for comparison's sake. "I know already that I don't look anything like my sire," he explained. "And my hair looks kind of like Eomer's – more like his than yours, Ada. That's why it can't be him."
Oh, the humility he constantly found at the hands of his child! Legolas felt guilty about trying to confuse and manipulate Caladel into seeing Eomer as his sire. Was that boy not of his flesh and blood, capable of seemingly boundless love, and possessing a high level of intelligence and empathy? Maybe if he stopped acting so Elrond-esque and just explained the reasons why he was willing to trust the Man with such an important task then his innocent son might understand. "My dear son," he said, wrapping his arms around him.
"What?" wondered Caladel. This was a really funny conversation! "Did I get it wrong?"
"No, I did," replied Legolas. "I should have told you right from the start that there are two different types of sires: sires by blood, who help create the child; and sires by heart, who love the child no matter what. Now, one male can be both, like my father and those of your friends', but there are times when he's only one or the other. A sire by blood might not be able to be around, and the other parent finds someone else, someone who wants to be a sire by heart. That's what Eomer is; just because he didn't help me create you doesn't mean that he can't be your sire by heart."
"I was lucky enough to have two sires by heart," spoke up Eomer, catching on quickly to what Legolas was explaining. He put his arm around Caladel, who still looked a little perplexed. "My own father helped my mother create me and he loved me with all of his heart, so he was both blood and heart. After I lost both of my parents I came here to live with my uncle and he became my second sire by heart. He didn't help create me or my sister Eowyn, Caladel, but when he called us his son and daughter he meant it with all that he was. And, if you are willing, I will mean it just as much as he did if I am allowed the privilege of calling you my son."
"You want that?" asked Caladel slowly, as if he couldn't quite believe it. When Eomer nodded the boy looked to Legolas. "What about you, Ada? Do you want it too?"
"Yes, but only if that's what you want," said Legolas sincerely. "I'm sorry that I didn't ask you first; I should have because in the end it's going to be your decision. Neither of us will be angry or hurt if you want to tell us no, so don't let worrying about that influence you. It is solely your choice."
Caladel folded his hands in his lap and stared down at them for a second. Then he unclasped them and slipped one of each into the two adults' hands. "What would I call you?" he asked Eomer.
"Does that mean you want me to be your sire?" asked Eomer with a brilliant grin.
"Yes, silly!" scolded the boy happily, looking very much like his ada's son as he teased Eomer. "I wouldn't need to call you something different if you were just going to stay 'Eomer.' I can't call you 'Ada'; that would be too confusing; and 'Father' doesn't sound right either. What did you call your sires?"
"Well, I called my uncle 'Uncle'," reported Eomer ruefully. He had a feeling that he'd be providing father and son with ample material to tease him with for years to come and that thought made him feel giddy. "That's not really right for this situation; but I called my father 'Papa'."
"Papa," Caladel tested out the word. "Papa," he repeated, this time making a popping noise with his lips as he pronounced the two p's. "Papa, Papa, Papa – that works. All right; you can be my Papa."
Eomer impulsively threw his arms around the boy. "I'm glad," he said joyfully.
"I have an Ada and a Papa," marveled Caladel. He immediately flung himself onto Legolas' lap as soon as the Man let him go. "Are you happy, Ada?"
"I am," replied Legolas, though both his tone and his smile were bittersweet. Memories from long ago stirred within him and he realized that more time would be needed before he could think about putting all of that behind him. But he wasn't lying about being happy. "You desire to have the best sire in all of Middle-earth and now we've got you one that has a chance at earning that title."
"My sire by heart," mused Caladel. "He didn't help create me but he loves me like he did. Ada – Ada and Papa – how do sires help create children?"
"That is another long conversation, one that we don't have time for now," said Legolas, smooth even with his voice rising about an octave. He picked up the comb and resumed work on Caladel's braids. "Let's just work on these braids right now – we're late enough for breakfast with your grandfather as it is!"
O – End Flashback – O
The three of them had been so happy since then. How, Eomer wondered dully, had they gone from that to this announcement in such a short amount of time? "I'm taking Caladel to Mirkwood," Legolas told him that afternoon in his office while Caladel was with his tutor.
"Why?" asked Eomer, proud when his voice didn't croak or crack.
"Because it will be too difficult to travel there any later in the year," answered Legolas simply.
Eomer stared at him helplessly. He couldn't order Legolas to say and didn't want to hold him prisoner anyway; but he couldn't think of any other way to guarantee that he wouldn't take their son and go off. "Tell me what's wrong," he pleaded. "What's happened that's making you two leave? Maybe I can help fix it."
"What?" Legolas looked bewildered for a second before he understood and smiled compassionately. "No, no – I didn't mean it like that. It's just that Ada wanted to spend more time with us, but he couldn't stay away from Mirkwood any longer and he can't really get away again. I'd like to see the forest again, and I'd like Caladel to get to know his family and the elvish people while he still can. We'd need to leave soon so that we can travel there and back before the snow and ice come. I wouldn't just take him without talking about it with you first, Eomer; not after all that's happened between the three of us."
"All right," said Eomer, exhaling loudly. "I was – wait one moment: why would traveling be any more difficult in the winter? I thought that cold didn't affect elves."
Legolas' smile turned deliberately charming. "Caladel wants you to join us," he said. "Ada's already said yes, and I wouldn't mind having you along either; to tell you the truth I've grown accustomed to your presence and your abhorrent table manners."
"How can I say no to an invitation like that?" wondered Eomer jokingly. Inside, though, his heart was rejoicing. "If you're sure that I wouldn't be intruding" – Legolas shook his head – "then I accept. Let me have a few days to arrange something with Gamling and Elfhelm and I'll be ready. This should be fun! I've heard that Mirkwood is a very – interesting – place."
To be continued…