Legolas' nights were always filled with dreams, often troubled but sometimes of a different, more pleasurable and yet confusing at the same time, nature. During his years in Fangorn he had loved being in his son's company to a degree that he couldn't have if he'd stayed in the outside world, and he'd enjoyed his conversations with the Ents. Still, there had been a void in his life that none of those beings could fill: the need for adult companionship in the form of someone who could relate to him on a more personal level than the Ents ever could. In the darkest nights when it had felt as if no one in his old life cared if he was alive or not Legolas would long for the warmth…and passion…of a lover's touch.
As he'd been burned by a lover's touch before, as well as the passion that had erupted from it and the empty promises of love that had gone along with all of that Legolas hadn't often desired that while he was in the forest. And yet, there had been nights still when that was exactly what he dreamed of. Of course since he'd only ever had – and wanted – one partner in that respect those dreams would often feature Aragorn. On the mornings after Legolas had always felt as if he'd betrayed himself in some way by letting that Man do what he wanted to him. Even though they had been only dreams the elf still couldn't help but hate himself a little for dreaming about Aragorn like that; but all of the self-loathing in the world couldn't stop the dreams from coming.
Now as his heart continued to mend in Rohan Legolas was finding that those passion-filled dreams were coming more and more frequently. In fact, since the Yule/Solstice festivities he'd been having an embarrassing number of them. This new crop had many of the same elements of the ones of old: large Mannish hands caressing his body intimately, soft lips kissing the back of his neck while the surrounding facial hair tickled the skin so tantalizingly, and a firm, solid body flush against his. But in two ways the dreams were very different from the ones he'd had in Fangorn: first, Legolas stopped them before they went too far, and secondly, he never looked into the face of the person who was touching him.
Oh, the elf couldn't bear to think about Aragorn in his subconscious now that the Man was steadily leaving the forefronts of his conscious thought! Legolas finally felt as if he was winning the battle for his emotions and he couldn't let a few stubborn dreams impede that. No matter how hard it was, no matter how much he desired to give in just one last time he always forced himself awake before he had to look at his nocturnal lover and know that he wasn't as strong-willed as he wished that he was.
One night, however, Legolas found himself sick and tired of fleeing from his own fantasies. How was the pattern of dreaming and making himself wake up empowering him any more than confronting whatever feelings he had for Aragorn head-on. Perhaps it would be better for him to deal directly with whatever these emotions were that were bringing on the dreams instead of giving them power over him by hiding from them.
One cold winter night between the Yule/Solstice celebration and Caladel's birthday, Legolas resolved to do just that. With an odd mixture of relief, anticipation, and dread the elf went to sleep, deciding once and for all to give himself over completely to whatever dreams came to him. Sure enough, one betook him very soon.
O – Dream – O
He was standing in a doorway, peering in at Caladel as the boy slept peacefully in his soft, warm, comfortable bed. All of Legolas' pleasant dreams, no matter what happened in them later on, always started like this; he'd come to believe that it was his mind's way of letting him know that his son was fine and not missing, and that he was free to do whatever he was going to do without worrying about the boy's safety. Even in his dreams Legolas was a father first.
Somehow knowing, as he often did when his subconscious took over, that no ill would befall Caladel, Legolas closed the door quietly and walked down an unidentifiable – yet at the same time familiar – corridor. For how long he didn't know (even though it seemed like the perfect amount of distance from his son's bedchamber; close enough that he could still be nearby in case of an emergency but far enough away that he could be assured that Caladel wouldn't hear what was about to happen), but at the right time he happened upon the right door. There was no hesitation in his body or mind when he opened it and walked inside.
He'd walked right into a bedchamber that was fit to be the setting for even the most romantic of fantasies. A large bed lay before him with the covers already neatly folded down. The sheets revealed there were made of the softest, finest material imaginable. A fire burned calmly in a fireplace on one of the walls and the whole bedchamber was bathed in the warm glow of candlelight. This, Legolas knew, was the place where people went to make love.
Legolas was suddenly aware of the fact that he was wearing a robe and beneath that one silky garment he was completely naked. It seemed that as the bedchamber was prepared to be a place of lovemaking so was he ready to be made love to. 'Give yourself over,' a feeling from he-didn't-know-where whispered.
The elf shivered in anticipation. He didn't need any prompting; he was eagerly anticipating the arrival of the Man that he was waiting for. How he longed to give himself over completely to him! He would feel safe, cherished, pleasured, and above all loved with his lover – Legolas was sure of that.
Suddenly out of nowhere – for there was no way that any Man would have been able to sneak up on him unless he appeared out of thin air – a body pressed up flush against his back. Two rough but tender hands began to slide all over his body, one down his chest and resting on his stomach and the other tracing patterns into the skin of his throat while lovingly urging him to let his head fall to one side. Legolas moaned appreciatively as he complied utterly with all that his lover desired. So good – it felt so good already and they'd only just begun.
Lips brushed their way up against the back of the elf's neck until they were on one of his ears, mouthing the tip. A million pleasurable sensations buzzed through Legolas' skin and all he could think about was how much he wanted more. "I found you," the Man breathed into his ear.
"At last," sighed Legolas, turning slightly in an attempt to feel more of that mind-blowing touch. "I was afraid that you would have given up on me by now. I know that I can be very difficult to find."
"Not from me," declared the Man as he placed the sweetest kiss ever on the point of Legolas' flesh where his jawline met his throat. The kiss itself was chaste enough but that particular spot was very sensitive on the elf; any touch against it, especially one that involved the added tickle of facial hair, was enough to make him writhe with pleasure.
The Man held him tighter as Legolas cried out and pressed himself further against the body behind him. "I will never give up on you," he went on. "No matter how arduous the search may be at time you are worth it and so much more. Never, ever lose faith that I am coming for you. I will never let you be alone again."
Those words were like one thousand kisses on that sensitive spot on his neck. Legolas closed his eyes momentarily to soak them in before speaking the name that lingered on the tip of his tongue: "Eomer."
He turned in the embrace to come face-to-face with the king of Rohan. Eomer stroked his cheek reverently and planted open-mouthed, lingering kisses along his jawbone from ear to ear. "Legolas," breathed the Man in a voice that set the prince's skin ablaze.
"Tell me," pleaded Legolas, turning his head into the king's ministrations. "Say it, Eomer. Tell me again – tell me always – Eomer, please, I need to hear you tell me."
"I love you, Legolas," declared Eomer. He pulled away just enough to be able to look into the elf's eyes. Legolas almost reeled at the sincerity, desire, and yes, love that he saw in the depths of Eomer's deep brown orbs. "I have loved you for so long that it is difficult to imagine me not loving you. I cannot begin to describe how much I'm in love with you. My life would not be whole unless you were in it, and I will never do anything that would make you leave me. My heart has, does, and will always belong to you, Legolas, and no one else."
Legolas seized the back of the Man's head and in one fluid motion pulled Eomer to him, joining their mouths in a searing kiss. A lot of Eomer's personality came through when he kissed, the elf realized: it was always gentle yet strong; firm without being too forceful; respectful but not too chaste; and full of a slow-burning but all-consuming fire. When their tongues met at first they playfully dueled for dominance before the Man gradually – so much so that Legolas didn't even notice the change until it was almost complete – got serious, using his tongue to mimic everything that Legolas wanted him to do to him elsewhere.
"Eomer, I need" – panted Legolas. "I need you to make love to me, Eomer."
The elf's hands flew down to the tie that held his robe closed but a pair of strong hands covered them before he could untie it. "Not yet," whispered Eomer in response to the questioning look that Legolas was giving him. "Do you really want to go so fast, beloved?"
Legolas never thought of that before; every other time he'd made love time was of the essence and fast was the only way that he and his partner could have done it. "I…" he said. "Slowly, I would love to go slowly and enjoy it as much as I can. Do we have enough time?"
"We have all night, my love," replied Eomer tenderly. "Tonight is all about what you want; but as for me I would like to savor this, not skip to the end like it's some kind of race."
"We could hardly do that when you're wearing so many garments," Legolas pointed out teasingly while a warm, contented feeling spread throughout his heart. "Tonight is all about my desires, you say? Well, right now I would like nothing more than to see you without them."
"Then you shall," grinned Eomer, un-tucking his shirt.
"If I may," requested Legolas, reaching out to grip the hem before Eomer could do anything more.
The Man understood immediately and let Legolas pull the shirt from his body and toss it aside. Long slender fingers roamed across his exposed chest. Legolas paused to caress and finger, seemingly fascinated with the blonde hair that was there. Eomer started to say something but his words were turned into a throaty moan when the elf's touches moved to either nipple, tracing circles there.
"I love your body," smiled Legolas. "It's so magnificent in its textures and contrasts. All of that wonderful hair is all over your chest, except for right here where you are very sensitive. We elves don't have hair anywhere except on the tops of our heads."
"May I see?" Eomer asked him. Legolas nodded, pulling his robe aside a little with one hand while he used the other to bring one of the king's hands over to touch his chest. "You're right," he noted with a sense of awe. "Your skin is so smooth; it's like fine silk that a mere Man is not worthy to touch."
"But I want you to touch me," countered Legolas softly as his feelings and desires intensified at one of the most private places on his body. One glance down confirmed that Eomer was experiencing the same needs. Suddenly a mischievous, amorous smile spread across the elf's face. "I can show you exactly how I'd like you to do so if you'll let me help you out of your breeches."
Eomer moaned appreciatively at the suggestion. "I must sit down first," he said, managing to get out a little chuckle. "Your words alone are enough to undo me and I would just as soon not embarrass myself by swooning at the first touch."
Laughing joyfully, Legolas followed Eomer to the bed. The Man sat down on the edge and Legolas soon found that sitting was not contusive to taking off his pants. Well, that wouldn't do, not with his plans; so the elf gently pushed his shoulders until Eomer was lying on his back. That position made it easier for him to slide off the king's pants and before long Eomer was totally nude. Tossing the breeches behind him, Legolas crawled up onto the bed and laid down, half next to his lover and half on top of him.
Eomer touched his face and ran his fingers through his hair before pulling Legolas down into another passionate kiss, coaxing his lips apart and claiming his mouth utterly. The elf let himself enjoy it for a few moments before having his hand fall to the Man's chest again. Eomer didn't notice the hand moving down, down, until it reached his erection. Soon the king's cries, gasps, pleas, and moans filled the air whenever his mouth wasn't engaged in kissing Legolas.
They carried on like that for awhile but soon enough desire was threatening to overcome them both. Slowly Eomer rolled them until it was Legolas who was on his back and he who was on top. "I cannot last much longer," he declared in a gasp, looking deep into the prince's eyes. Legolas nodded and the Man untied his robe while his other hand slid up between the elf's legs. "Let me make love to you now; I so desire to show you how much I love you."
"Yes," whispered Legolas passionately as he spread his legs apart so that Eomer could prepare him. It was a vulnerable position to be in; Legolas usually hated being that exposed but now he knew that he could trust Eomer completely. The Man took extra care that his fingers caused the least amount of pain possible while he deliberately brought his lover as much pleasure as he could.
Finally, when Legolas could take no more of his sensational teasing, Eomer removed his fingers and carefully but confidently joined his body with the elf's. Legolas was amazed at how aware he was of every feeling that went along with the penetration – it truly felt as if they were becoming one in more than just a physical sense. "Oh, Eomer," cried Legolas, nearing incoherence as pleasure and frustration mingled at the ends of every nerve. "Move, please. Take me, melethnin; take me, my wonderful, beautiful Eomer! Take – take me – ohhhh, yes!"
Eomer was an excellent lover: attentive, selfless, and so very, very good at hitting the right place with the right amount of strength with his hard shaft every time he thrust. Legolas wanted to ask him how he could give Eomer just as much pleasure as he was getting from him but he'd been reduced to mindless babbling. It was an unnecessary question, anyway – from the look in the Man's eyes as they locked with Legolas' the elf knew that Eomer had never felt so complete and pleasured in his life. They moved together as one until Eomer brought Legolas to his climax. The prince knew that he'd never felt anything so intense and astounding as he released and he squeezed his muscles that surrounded the Man so that Eomer could experience that too.
For a while afterward they laid together, trying to regain their breaths. Eomer did not pull out of Legolas' body; something that the elf was extremely happy about, as he loved the feeling of having his lover inside of him. "You called me 'melethnin'," said Eomer at length. "What does that mean?"
"My beloved," Legolas translated as he brought his hand up to caress the Man's bearded cheek. "You are my beloved – I love you, Eomer."
"I love you too, Legolas."
O – End Dream – O
Legolas awoke with a start. "Dear Elbereth," he gasped.
"Ada?" a little voice sounded from one side of his bed. Legolas jumped and whipped around to guiltily face Caladel, who was watching him with worried eyes. "Are you all right? You were moaning in your sleep."
It was strange: Legolas was the father there and yet he felt like he was the child, getting caught while stealing a treat. "I'm fine," he said quickly, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to blot out any desire that was left there from the dream. "What are you doing in here, ion nin? Did I wake you up?"
"No," Caladel shook his head. "It's almost time for breakfast."
"Oh," replied Legolas dimly. "I…why don't you head down there without me? I'll catch up in a few minutes. I'm fine," he added under Caladel's doubtful gaze. "I just need a moment or two to gather my bearings.
Caladel didn't look too happy about it – and was, in fact, still a little scared, as he'd only known his ada to moan in his sleep when he was having a fit like the one he'd had on the night that they'd first come to Edoras – but he complied, walking out slowly and shutting the door behind him. Legolas' shoulders sagged the second that he was alone again. "Where did that dream come from?" he wondered aloud; but he was too shocked and anxious to really explore the answer to that for several minutes.
OOOOOOOOOOOOO
It was about an hour later when Legolas was finally walking down the corridor toward the dining hall, scolding himself with each step about waiting for so long to head to breakfast – now, if he was extremely fortunate, he might manage to see Caladel before the boy went off to his morning of lessons. He'd been neglecting his child that morning and for what? One tiny dream that was initially very confusing but now he could see was insignificant? That was no excuse! He'd had many unusual and often disturbing dreams about anything and everything before, and there was (as he'd finally managed to convince himself before he left his bedchamber) nothing about this last one that made it different from any of those.
So what if he'd just dreamed that he'd had the most incredible sex of his life (although admittedly he only had two other experiences to compare it with) with a loving, kind – virile – considerate and generous Eomer? Legolas told himself that he shouldn't have let himself get so rattled about it; after all, it wasn't as if the dream actually meant anything. He knew that he certainly wasn't in love with the Man, as he'd been in love with Aragorn once (and still retained enough confusing feelings to make himself think that he still was at times) and how he felt about Eomer didn't feel exactly like that. 'Maybe it might be something like when I first met Aragorn in Mirkwood,' Legolas admitted to himself begrudgingly, 'but I'm not as naïve now than I was back then. I know better than to risk our friendship and his relationship with Caladel because of a tiny, little bit of slightly warmer than friendship emotions.'
Yes, now that he thought about it more Legolas could plainly see that the dream had nothing to do at all with the person in it. It had just…been a long time since he'd been gratified in that sense and an even longer one since it was another person doing it. Everyone knew that it was perfectly natural to want to be touched every once in a while and since he adamantly refused to put himself in a situation like that dreams were the only outlet he had for those longings. As for his subconscious' choice for a bed-partner, well, the idea of being intimate with a complete stranger had never held any appeal for Legolas; so of course that would mean that if he was going to dream about making love – 'Sex! Sex! Not making love!' he caught himself – he would dream about someone that he knew.
Really, now that he thought about it, Eomer was the most likely person to show up in a dream like that and there was nothing complicated about that! What was so terrible about having his dream lover – and by dream lover he meant the lover in his actual dream, not the lover that he dreamt of having – be that particular Man anyway? There was certainly no elf that he felt closer to at the moment; and besides, he'd only been with a Man anyway, so naturally his dreams would take him back to that familiar body form. And would he rather have had that Man be Aragorn? No! Every dream he'd had before during the last almost six years that remotely resembled the one he'd had last night had featured Aragorn and Legolas had always hated that – or rather hated himself for giving in to the person who left him for someone else, even if it was only in his subconscious. This last dream had made him feel a little confused and foolish but he wasn't hating himself for it.
No person in his place would choose to dream about Aragorn over Eomer if those were his only two options! At least he knew that Eomer was loyal. And kind. And funny. And loving to an incredible degree. And strong in mind, body, and will – no one could compel the king of Rohan into giving up the person he claimed to love more than anything. And he was attentive, always seeing to it that Legolas and Caladel had everything that they needed and more. Not to mention understanding, never once pressuring the elf to talk any more about his falling out with Aragorn or the identity of Caladel's sire. And Eomer was an excellent father, too – the kind that he'd always wished that his son's sire by blood would have been. Not to mention that he was very, very handsome.
Legolas almost laughed aloud at his own foolishness. Of course, now that he was going over it in his mind, he could see why he'd dreamed of Eomer like that! What was harder to understand, really, was why he hadn't had that same dream sooner and more often. Not because he was attracted to the Man in that way, naturally; but because Eomer was attractive, in both body and soul, in a general sense. Legolas' emotional scars weren't so deep that he couldn't appreciate someone that was nice to look at, but it wasn't as if he fell in love with, or even felt a powerful physical attraction to, everyone with that sort of quality. While Eomer might have a handsome face, gorgeous brown eyes, a wonderful mouth, strong hands, powerful arms, and a personality that made it clear that not all of his good attributes were on the outside, it was very easy for Legolas to overlook all of that and not explore any more-than-friendly feelings he might have for the Man.
'I'm gland that I got all of that figured out before I let my confusion make something weird and uncomfortable happen,' decided Legolas resolutely as he opened the doors to the dining hall.
Caladel was just leaving the table when Legolas entered. "Ada!" the elfling cried happily, scurrying over and giving him a huge and enthusiastic embrace. "I'm so glad that you're here! I thought you were sick and I don't want you to be sick."
"Elves don't get sick, silly," Legolas reminded him kindly as he planted a tender kiss on the child's brow and smiled down at him. "I was just having a more difficult time than usual getting myself around this morning. Don't worry about it anymore, Caladel; I'm certainly not. Right now all I feel is happiness that I got the chance to see you before you have to be at your lessons!"
The boy studied his ada closely. In his eyes Legolas seemed fine enough; but then again there had never been any warnings before when his strange fits would happen. Maybe he was just good at hiding when he wasn't feeling well. "I don't have to go to my lessons today," offered Caladel hesitantly. "Maybe I should stay with you…"
"I admire your efforts, ion nin," said Legolas wryly, "but it's not going to work. I'm fine and you have to spend your morning with the tutors, as usual. In fact, if I'm not mistaken you're going to be late if you don't leave right now."
"If you're sure," hedged Caladel.
Legolas nodded resolutely. "Very sure," he replied. "Go on now, child, and have a good day! And do try not to worry so much about me; I'm the one who's supposed to be worrying about you."
"We worry about each other, remember? You and me against the world – well you and me and Papa against the world," amended Caladel with a smile. Legolas twitched a little and the boy assumed that his ada was just anxious for him to leave before he was tardy. "All right, I'm going – but you be sure to eat something. Papa, make sure that Ada eats!"
Eomer was approaching Legolas even before Caladel had left, shutting the door behind him. The elf turned to watch him come closer…and closer…and closer. There were no words to describe how relieved he felt to see that nothing had changed between them. Sure, his heart was beating a little faster than what was normal; and his breathing was becoming slightly hitched; but that was nothing. Legolas was certain that there was a perfectly logical explanation for those things even if he couldn't make his mind function well enough to think of one at the moment. All right, perhaps he felt a little on edge, but that was to be expected after sharing a night of passion with someone in one's dreams and then having to face them in conscious life, right?
"Our son was very quick to inform me that you weren't feeling well," the Man said, seemingly oblivious to Legolas' state. He smiled and presented the elf with a green apple. "I agree with him: you should eat something."
Legolas stared at the apple. Eomer had found out that he preferred green apples to red about a month after he and Caladel had come to Meduseld and had almost immediately went out of his way to make sure that there were always green apples on hand. Eomer was so thoughtful…. "Thank you," said the elf quietly.
"Legolas, what's wrong?" asked Eomer, concerned. "You haven't teased me once today, not even when Caladel told me to essentially take care of you. Are you feeling ill?"
"No, nothing like that," said Legolas, mindful to take a bite of the apple as if to prove what he was saying. "It's nothing as serious as that, really. I just had an…unsettling dream last night."
This answer was not to Eomer's liking. "About someone taking Caladel away?" he guessed, remembering the nightmares that had plagued the elf before he knew that he could trust Eomer to keep the boy a secret. "Oh, Legolas; not again. When did you start having them this time?"
"I'm…" Legolas started but his voice trailed off. He stalled for time by continuing to eat the apple.
Noting Legolas' anxiousness with growing worry the Man put a comforting hand on his back and started rubbing it in a circular motion. Eomer didn't miss how the elf started to chomp down quicker with noisier bites. "You can tell me, Legolas," he said encouragingly.
"It's not…" Legolas tried again, but found himself too distracted to finish the thought. Elbereth, why was he imagining all of the wonderful things that his dream Eomer had done with his hands? And why was he finding himself wishing that the Man's had would somehow find its way under his tunic and massage his skin directly? "It isn't…anything to…. Last night's dream was simply a one-time…preposterous…"
"Legolas," said Eomer as he brought his other hand to the elf's cheek to feel if it was warm with fever, "you're not acting like yourself."
"I'm all right," insisted Legolas, keenly aware of how the Man's fingers felt against his face and remembering those dream caresses.
"You're trembling," noted Eomer anxiously. Desperate for any way to ease Legolas' troubled mind he impulsively brought his other hand up to the other cheek, seizing the prince's face and looking at him earnestly. "I cannot take these dreams away from you, but I can promise that they will not come true! Legolas, I swear upon my honor and all the love in my being that no one will take our son from you as long as there is still breath in my body."
"I – I believe you," said Legolas. His body, acting on its own accord without the consent of his mind (which knew better), raised his hands to cover ones that were still cupping his face.
Eomer traced lines in the elf's temples with his fingertips. "I know you do," he said. "I just want you to always remember it."
Their faces were so close. It would be so easy for Legolas to lean forward and give Eomer a real kiss; not like the one given at the Solstice celebration but more like one of the kisses of his dream. He wondered if Eomer's lips would be as soft as he imagined them to be the previous night…why was he allowing himself to think in such a way? "Eomer," breathed Legolas in a cracked whisper, almost frightened at how hard it was to control his body's impulses and how impossible it was to control his thoughts and feelings.
"Something is wrong," said Eomer, moving one hand to stroke Legolas' soft blonde locks. While he still believed that the root of the elf's strange, out-of-character behavior was the unsettling dream of the previous night, there had to be more to it than that. He'd never seen Legolas act like this, not even when he'd cried in Eomer's arms the first night of his father's visit to Edoras. "I'm not going to my office today. There's nothing that I have to do that can't wait until tomorrow, so there's no reason why I can't spend today taking care of you. We can discuss what we're going to do to celebrate Caladel's birthday in a few weeks. Come, I'll tuck you into bed and then we can" –
"No!" protested Legolas quickly, pulling his hands down and his body out of Eomer's grasp. Dear Elbereth, if he was having trouble controlling his body's reactions now – oh, he couldn't let himself think about what would happen if Eomer tucked him into bed. "It was a silly dream; certainly not worth postponing the rule of Rohan over! I'm all right!"
Eomer didn't look convinced. "Still, it wouldn't hurt if the two of us took a little time off. No one would fault us for using the time to discuss Caladel's birthday."
"There's no need for that," said Legolas. "We shouldn't be discussing what we're going to do on Caladel's birthday without Caladel; and anyway he always asks to go swimming for his birthday and I always have to say no because the rivers are too icy and sometimes frozen over. Let's talk about this with him over dinner tonight. Besides, I have an archery class to teach later on this morning and I won't need to be taken care of there. Everything's fine, Eomer; I just need some time outside in the sun."
"If you're sure," hesitated Eomer.
"You're starting to sound like Caladel," teased Legolas with more warmth now that he'd found a way to take the conversation into a more comfortable direction.
"What can I say?" grinned Eomer broadly. "Our son is smart, considerate, and exceedingly well-versed in the art of politeness; he takes after me in that regard. The two of us only want for you to be happy."
Before he could stop himself – before he could even think – Legolas threw his arms around Eomer. "I'm very fortunate that the both of you care so much about me," he murmured. The Man wrapped him into a strong embrace and Legolas was content, just happy to feel their bodies pressed together…
What in the name of all that was good in Middle-earth was he doing? What was he letting happen that he couldn't, for his son's sake as well as his own, let happen? Legolas hastily pulled away and began to walk fretfully toward the door. "Oh – oh, my," he said quickly when Eomer looked at him strangely. "I didn't realize how late it was getting! I have so much to do before I have to be on the archery field and, well, no time like the present, right? Thanks for the words of comfort, and for the apple – I swear that I'll eat an extra large lunch today to make up for the small breakfast! Have a nice morning and all!"
He knew that after that little display Eomer would insist on having lunch with him just to make sure that he was back to normal; and he knew that by that time he would have to come up with a convincing explanation for his odd behavior; but before that any of that could happen Legolas needed to get a hold of himself. First things first; the elf made a beeline for the bathing chambers, surprising the servant in there with his unplanned visit. "I need to take a bath," he announced.
"Of course, master elf," said one of the flustered servants. "But we weren't expecting anyone to come in this morning. I'm afraid that the water will be quite cold."
Legolas nodded and headed for the nearest bathtub. "Perfect."
To be continued…