A/N: I'm so sorry that this chapter is a little late! My niece was visiting all yesterday and stayed until this morning, leaving me no time to type and post until now.
By the time that the smell of rain and the first hints of spring were in the air Caladel's blind euphoria about Legolas and Eomer's relationship had come to an end and he was again uneasy and frustrated with what he believed was lacking between his two parents. He'd been keeping his thoughts on the matter bottled up for a couple of weeks, not wanting to approach his ada and papa for fear that they would reconsider everything between them if he pointed out to them what he'd figured out and unable to talk to anyone else because they all seemed to think that things were going perfectly in the king and prince's relationship.
The boy really couldn't blame the people of Rohan for their assumption – even he had been under that delusion, and for good reason. On the surface Legolas and Eomer's romance was going great: they'd been spending so much time together. At least once a week the couple would have their private evenings and Caladel made sure that he never did anything to interrupt another one of those. One night there had been a fancy banquet with all of Rohan's nobles there to celebrate some anniversary of a victory in the War that happened before he was born; and in front of everybody Eomer had insisted that, instead of simply eating at the head table like he normally did (which was an honor in itself), Legolas sit right beside him in a large chair with neat carvings on it. All of the nobles and servants who were there talked about it a lot so Caladel knew that it was a big deal.
As if all of that wasn't enough, his ada and papa were always acting all goofy around each other. Caladel made sure to roll his eyes – even though he was smiling on the inside – whenever he saw them smiling dreamily at one another. They also had funny looks in their eyes whenever they looked at each other. Plus, they were always kissing when they didn't think that anyone else was watching. All of this caused a lot of excitement with whoever Caladel talked to or observed. People all around him from noble to citizen to guard to peasant to servant were constantly whispering about the 'progress' that their king's romance with the elf prince was doing fine and could only get better. Only their worried son knew the truth.
He found it a bit strange that no one had noticed the problem until now. Well, most people wouldn't be in a position where they could discover it but there was no reason why the guards and servants assigned to work in Meduseld couldn't have realize what was wrong! Caladel himself had been too preoccupied at first with how his parents didn't kiss each other like most of his friends' parents did. But then they started doing just that and the elfling had been ready to be satisfied, feeling secure about what they felt for each other. However, two weeks prior to the day when Caladel was too distracted by his thoughts to pay attention during his riding lesson the boy had accidentally found out that something was still missing from their relationship: they weren't sharing a bedchamber.
How Caladel wished now that he'd never learned about this! But it wasn't as if he'd gone looking for the information; one night it had come to pass that his ada and papa were having one of their special evenings and, instead of spending the time with a nice but boring nanny, the boy had been allowed to have a special evening of his own: spending the night at the home of his best friend Bedric. Everything had been so fun and carefree until it was time to go to bed: it was then that Bedric's mother told the boys that if they needed anything from her to knock on her bedchamber door. Caladel had asked Bedric's father where they could find him if they needed him and, after a long pause, the Man had told him that he and his wife lived in the same chamber.
The worst part of it was that sharing a bedchamber wasn't an odd thing for parents to do! Too bad Caladel knew for a fact that it wasn't; he'd asked Bedric about it the first chance that he got and his friend had informed him that everybody's set of parents did this, at least at one point in their lives. But that wasn't true for Legolas and Eomer – the elfling was fair certain that they'd never slept in the same bedchamber, let alone lived in the same one.
Caladel moaned internally. The fact that they lived together in Meduseld apparently wasn't enough to make his fathers a real couple like everyone else's parents! His poor heart broke a little more every time his mind strayed to that reality and what it meant. Were his parents not like each other as much because of it? Were the three of them less of a family than his friends and their parents?
Those kinds of questions were very big for a little boy to have to ponder. It was perfectly understandable why he was having such a hard time concentrating on the task at hand, namely listening to Alfmund about how he had to hold himself when he made his horse jump. This wasn't a good thing, nor had it gone unnoticed. "Caladel?" his instructor asked.
"Mmmmh?" mumbled Caladel distantly in response.
This wasn't like the bright and enthusiastic young lordling that Alfmund normally instructed. He usually couldn't get out a complete sentence without Caladel interrupting, itching to ask for more details; and he almost always had to restrain the lively boy from trying out each new technique before it was fully and properly explained. "You're just – sitting there," pointed out Alfmund, gesturing haphazardly to the child's place atop his horse. "And you're rather quiet."
"Sorry," said Caladel softly, looking down.
"You're not acting like yourself at all," continued Alfmund. He wondered if it was his place to inquire further. He was technically a tutor, not a friend or member of the family; but at the same time he'd always felt a special bond with the boy, seeing that he was the one who first saw Caladel and carried him from Fangorn to Edoras on his horse. He was also one of the few adults that still referred to Caladel without using the elfling's official title and the fact that the king and prince didn't mind this indicated that they understood and approved of his unique standing in the boy's life. "Is something troubling you?"
Deep down Caladel knew that he wasn't supposed to be discussing anything at a lesson except what he was supposed to be learning (one of his tutors had approached Legolas early on with the complaint that his son was a bit of a chatterbox and Legolas had talked to him about it immediately), but his heart felt much lighter as soon as the Man had asked the question. It would be all right to talk about other things if it was the tutor himself who started to conversation in the first place, right? Besides, it would make the boy feel oh so much better to talk to someone about his worries. Alfmund was an adult, after all, and if anyone had the answers to the questions that had been bothering him it would be an adult. "Can – can I ask you something?" he whispered.
"Of course," assured Alfmund compassionately with a concerned frown on his face. He rode a bit closer to the boy, stilled both of their horses, and leaned in closer. "You can always talk to me if you need to. What's on your mind?"
"Do your parents share a bedchamber?" inquired Caladel.
Alfmund's expression froze as his stomach sank. 'Please, no.' How did he manage to always stick his foot into these types of situations? If there was any mercy and pit in Middle-earth this couldn't happen: the son of the most powerful Man in Rohan – and his liege lord – was not heading down the path that it sounded like with his questions. "Yes," he replied hesitantly, apprehensive about giving any sort of answer that might start a conversation that he most definitely didn't want to have.
"My parents don't share a bedchamber!" confided Caladel in a blurt that seemed to Alfmund to echo loudly for miles on end. "They've never once! Whenever Papa stays in our suite to talk to Ada after I go to bed he doesn't stay the whole night!"
"And – and this upsets you?" stammered the young Man helplessly. First he had to hear about how Caladel's parents never kissed and now this – what had he done so horribly wrong to deserve to have to learn about the king's sex life in a way that practically required him to be executed?
"Yes!" declared Caladel loudly in a tone that made it clear that he thought that the answer should have been obvious. "Bedric's do – I've seen it with my own eyes – and he told me that so do all of my friends' parents. You just told me that yours' do too. I bet everyone's parents share a bedchamber except mine! Why can't Papa stay the whole night? Why aren't the three of us in the same suite? I mean, we all live in the same home and Ada and Papa are like my friends' parents in every other way. Why can't they just sleep together too?"
The young Man bit his cheek, trying to keep his response clean and under control, so hard that he drew blood. "You – your friends' parents, and mine too, were a couple for awhile before they started sharing a bedchamber," he explained in a fumbling manner, silently reminding himself that the young, innocent child hadn't meant to imply anything sexual and therefore he didn't need to let his mind wander to those thoughts. "It's a big decision to make, Caladel. The fact that they have separate bedchambers doesn't mean that they are any less your parents, or make them love you any less. Nor does it change how they feel about each other and you've also seen with your own eyes how much they care for each other. You yourself have told a lot of people on many occasions that your parents are much happier now that they kiss one another whenever they wish."
"That is true," conceded Caladel, deep in thought. His face brightened and he smiled happily at Alfmund, making the tutor considerably nervous. "But that means that I was right! Why can't I be right about this too? I mean, if kissing makes them act all silly and happy, just imagine how much better they would feel if they slept together!"
Dear Valar, did the boy have to shout his conclusions out for the entire city to hear? How did this happen to him; how did he end up becoming the young lord's – the acknowledged son of the king – confidant when it came to King Eomer and Prince Legolas' romantic and sexual lives? There were no words to describe how very inappropriate it was for him to know all of the things that he knew, and even more so to have it be their young son acting as his informant. He wished that there was some way that he could discourage Caladel from those kinds of conversations; but he couldn't think of one that wouldn't also discourage him from opening up about everything else too, hurting the boy's feelings, or implying something that would compromise Caladel's innocence.
"That could very well be," Alfmund finally managed to choke out as he prayed that the boy wouldn't notice how red his face had become. He had to do something about this soon, before anyone found out what he and Caladel sometimes talked about. The young Man was certain that the king and prince wouldn't understand if they learned about it from someone else.
"Thank you," said Caladel sincerely and proudly, feeling vindicated.
With that matter finally resolved – or at least off of his mind and chest – the elfling got through the rest of the riding lesson relatively untroubled. He couldn't help noticing, however, how uncharacteristically distracted Alfmund had become. Wanting to return the favor, he asked the Man about what was on his mind. Alfmund simply answered that he had something to see to right after their lesson and it was going to be difficult. Caladel hoped that his older friend would be able to find a grown-up to talk to and make it all better, just like he had.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
It was the end of another demanding, grueling archery training session for the soldiers that were to become Rohan's elite archers. As they gathered around their instructor, Legolas, as they always did before they were dismissed, each one of the Men were exhausted, felt like their arm muscles had been stretched to the limit, and were brimming with well-earned satisfaction at the pride that was coming through the elf's normally impeccably guarded expression.
"Well done. Many of you showed signs of marked improvement today and all of you are progressing nicely," announced Legolas, carefully plotting how to balance his praise with motivation and a will to drive them to improve even more. "We still have a lot of work to do, but each day you come here and prove that you are capable of the hard work and diligence that it will take to turn you into archers to be respected and feared. I believe that if you work to top yourself at every lesson the archers of Rohan could very well become renowned throughout all the peoples of Middle-earth someday. I am pleased with the effort that all of you put forth today. You are now dismissed."
Murmurs of "yes, my prince" and "thank you, my prince" sounded from all around him as the crowd dispersed. More than a few of them took the time to bow to him before departing, a gesture that Legolas made clear wasn't necessary on the archery field but that he was proud to receive nonetheless. The elf felt so useful and respectable around his students, and he considered a good number of them his friends too. It was so nice to feel needed and not lonely. "Tomorrow, same time!" he called out as they left. "We'll be working on distance shooting and increasing the speed of how fast you can load and fire, so remember to bring a lot of – Alfmund?"
The throng of archers had thinned out enough for the elf to see his son's riding instructor standing at the edge of the field. The young Man was shifting his weight from one foot to the other repeatedly while wringing his hands and generally looking extremely nervous. There was only one reason why Legolas thought that anyone, especially one of Caladel's tutors, should be nervous around him. All of the blood drained from his face and his feet ran him over to Alfmund of their own volition. "What's wrong?" he demanded urgently, his mind dwelling on the worst scenarios and images. "Is it Caladel? Was he thrown from his horse? Is he ill? Was he injured? Oh, I knew he wasn't old enough to learn how to jump yet!"
"My prince," began Alfmund.
"What five-year-old needs to know how to jump a fence?" ranted Legolas. This had been a point of contention between himself and Eomer and he'd only reluctantly conceded when Caladel had begged him to and Alfmund had assured him in every way possible that his son would remain unharmed. "Where is he now? Don't just stand there staring at me – speak!"
Alfmund jumped. "I'm terribly sorry – I didn't mean to alarm you," he said, seeming embarrassed rather than worried. Legolas, knowing that the young Man would have been beside himself if anything had happened to his charge, relaxed slightly. "I did come here to talk to you about Caladel, but he's fine. Um, is there anywhere that we could speak in private?"
"Here is as good a place as any," Legolas informed him. "My students have been dismissed and if they do any practicing it will be at the field by the weapon's storage, not here. None save my son and Eomer would come to my private field without my permission or a very good reason for disturbing me. Now please tell me what happened with Caladel to make you come here, and so quickly?"
"This – well, this, ah," stuttered Alfmund, looking as uncomfortable as he sounded. He rolled his head skyward and let out a long, audible sigh before righting himself again and looking at the elf. "I must apologize if this sounds too forward, my prince, but I feel that it is necessary to let you know what Caladel confided to me today."
"All right," said Legolas, a little confused but willing enough to go along with it.
"He told me, Prince Legolas," said Alfmund in a low voice, "that he believes that you and King Eomer would be happier if the two of you…shared a bedchamber."
The tips of Legolas' ears turned bright red. "I beg your pardon?" he asked in a tight voice.
"I swear upon my life and my brother's memory that I didn't ask him to share with me anything so personal!" Alfmund burst out nervously, rambling on fearfully when he couldn't read the prince's expression. "But he trusts me and I don't want to take that away from him. I thought about talking to him about not speaking about such matters, but he's so bright and curious that he'd only ask me why not and there would be no way to explain without discussing what would be inappropriate for me to discuss with him! So I thought that you should know what's been going through his mind lately, and you could tell him all of that stuff." He paused, panting a little. "For what it's worth I don't think that he's shared this with anyone else."
"I thank you for your candor, Alfmund," said Legolas graciously, his mind reeling. Honestly, where did Caladel come up with his ideas at times? "I shall have a talk with him about respecting my and Eomer's privacy as soon as possible. The last think we need is for the nobles and citizenry to think that Caladel can keep them up-to-date on how far our relationship has…progressed."
"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. People already know" – Alfmund suddenly snapped his jaw shut with a noisy click that hurt his teeth.
Legolas looked at him with the same sharp eye that he gave Caladel whenever he suspected that the boy was trying to hide something. "Do go on," he ordered in an exceedingly polite tone. "What is it that 'people already know'?"
What in Middle-earth was the matter with him? He had gotten through telling the love of his king's life that he knew more about their personal goings-on than they would care for him to and managed to escape penalty. Now that he was in the clear he had to let his big mouth shoot off without his brain! "It's nothing," Alfmund protested meekly, feeling about an inch tall under the prince's stare.
"Then there's no reason why you can't tell me all about it," countered Legolas evenly.
"Please forgive me, my prince," said Alfmund, looking and feeling absolutely miserable. "It's just that – mistaken impression – a lot of people – seem to have drawn the wrong conclusion. Please find it in your heart to not judge us harshly. It's just that you two do live under the same roof – in the same quarters, even. You also already have one child together. It is not unreasonable then to assume that you and the king had a strong relationship before you, uh, left for all those years; and there are many people who assumed that things more or less picked up where they left off when you came to live at Meduseld, a long time before the king's official announcement. When all of that is taken into consideration, it can be understood why people might think that you and King Eomer are already…intimately involved."
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Legolas' cheeks were flaming red as he paced around in his bedchamber. He'd retreated to the only truly personal private place that he had after Alfmund's humiliating revelation, detesting the idea of being anywhere where he might run into someone who thought that either he would just hop into bed with Eomer a little over two months into their relationship or else kept their romance a secret for months for laughs. Dear Elbereth, if the people thought that he and Eomer had been a couple since last spring how many of them assumed that they'd been sleeping together for that long?
It was bitterly ironic: he'd gone into exile almost six years ago to avoid being known by a hated title only to have it thrust on him without his knowledge in the one place that felt like home. Maybe it was his destiny after all. Be he in Gondor or Rohan maybe there was nothing else that Legolas could be besides the king's whore.
'Stop that,' he told himself harshly. 'People like you and they respect you here. Even someone like Alfmund, who obviously believed that you were having sex with Eomer, was uncomfortable about knowing the supposed details rather than disgusted and condescending about what he thought you were doing.'
Legolas walked over to the bed and forced himself to sit down and think rationally. While there may be a few people who were judgmental and smug about what they assumed to be the truth about their relationship, most of the Rohirrim probably didn't think poorly of him for supposedly sleeping with their king. Now that he thought about it, it was a natural assumption: if Caladel was their child they would have had to have had sex at least once before. Add that to the fact that, while not being overly and inappropriately affectionate in front of crowds of people, Legolas and Eomer had never made it a secret that the physical side to their relationship was healthy and the elf had to admit that he might have very well come to the same conclusion if he were in the peoples' position.
Besides, even if their assumptions had been correct, Legolas would not have been treated like the king's whore. Eomer was not Aragorn. The latter had insisted from the outset on keeping their involvement a secret for the sake of someone who was supposed to have left for a place where Middle-earth and everything in it become nothing more than a memory; the former had never asked to keep their relationship a secret for more than a day, and that was only because he wanted to announce it in the right way. Aragorn had left him as soon as he heard that Arwen was still around; Eomer had proven time and time again that he was committed to making things work between them. Legolas had never been anything more than, at worst, Aragorn's dirty little secret, or, at best, his secret love; while now the elf had been with Eomer for so long in one for or another that he was practically – although not technically – the king's spouse. Most telling of all, he hadn't been reconciled with Aragorn for a day before the Man had asked him to sleep with him; he and Eomer had been together for two months and Eomer had never mentioned the topic once.
That was supposed to be comforting – so why did Eomer's apparent lack of interest in the subject of sex bother Legolas so much on a deeper level? How the prince wished that Alfmund had never brought any of this up; blissful ignorance was looking better and better compared to having to think about this too much. The truth, as much as it shamed Legolas to admit it, was that he was becoming increasingly less satisfied with kisses and chaste caresses and more frustrated with how limited his romance with Eomer was physically.
The kissing part was fantastic, of course, but that and the touches were kindling something within him and the fire that haunted his dreams, the one that had led him astray in his waking life before, was getting harder and harder to ignore. Legolas knew know that he hadn't been ready for sex when he'd asked Aragorn to touch him at Helm's Deep. He was feeling ready now, but of course he'd thought the same thing back then too. What if he was wrong again?
'Eomer could be feeling as frustrated as I am and is just too much of a gentleman to say anything,' reasoned Legolas. 'Perhaps I should just put us both out of our misery and approach him. I mean, it's not as if I'm virginal anymore so it doesn't really matter if I have sex again as long as it's with someone I care about.'
But it did matter. As much as Legolas loved his son, having sex with Aragorn before he was ready had been a mistake and Caladel had suffered for it; exiled before birth, growing up for almost five years without a family or non-Entish friends, and cut off from the world that he had every right to be a part of. No, just because he'd made a mistake once didn't mean that it was no big deal to make it again. This relationship with Eomer was his second chance to be happy and he didn't want to waste it by not learning from the past. Then again, he could end up messing everything up by being so afraid of the past's lessons that he didn't allow himself or his new relationship to grow. Legolas buried his face in his hands. This was so confusing!
A soft knocking at the door made the elf look up again. "Legolas?" called Eomer from the other side. "Legolas, I know you're in there. May I come in?"
"Yes," replied Legolas automatically, bracing himself for…for whatever was about to happen. This was Eomer, whom he trusted not to judge him; he had to trust the Man right back by being honest, no matter where that course might lead them. "Please come in."
Eomer opened the door just enough to enter the bedchamber and then shut it behind him quietly. "Are you all right?" he asked concernedly. "One of the guards came to my office to tell me that he saw you hurry into here, and that you looked very upset. What happen – mmmmm!"
While he'd been speaking Legolas had deftly rose to his feet, quickly and resolutely crossed the chamber, and planted a hard and unexpectedly passionate kiss on his lips. Eomer was stunned – it usually took a little while for Legolas to get comfortable enough to kiss him when they were in a bedchamber – but he wasn't complaining, especially not when the elf began to massage Eomer's tongue with his own. "Wow," stated the Man once they had parted. "That was a fantastic way to be greeted; but what was it for?"
"It was something nice to hold on to while we have a much-needed conversation," explained Legolas ruefully. Eomer looked at him curiously – not like he would have before and during the early days of their relationship when he'd always been half-afraid that the elf was about to leave. Legolas found strength in the Man's faith and drew in a deep steeling breath. "Eomer, did you know that people believe that we're being intimate?"
"Is that" – Eomer checked himself and sighed. "Not with my own ears – no one would dare approach me about that personal a matter, whether they were being crass or not – but it doesn't surprise me that something like that is going around. I know how peoples' minds work and I know the power of idle gossip, especially among the court. Would you like for me to issue an edict or something along those lines and put a stop to it?"
"No; denying it would only make them believe it more," noted Legolas with sardonic wisdom. "That's not what's bothering me anyway; at least it's not the root cause. Eomer" – he swallowed and looked imploringly into the Man's eyes –"do you want to sleep with me?"
Of all the questions that he could have asked! Eomer looked at him for an entire minute in silence before speaking again. "Do you want me to be polite or be completely honest?"
"Honest, always."
"You're very beautiful, Legolas," said Eomer, taking both of the elf's hands and raising them to his lips, kissing them lovingly. "I'm not blind, nor am I devoid of all sexual urges. I – you know that I will never push you to do anything before you felt ready; but I also would never turn you down when you are ready. I do desire you – very much so. Why are you asking?"
"I – I'm very confused right now," admitted Legolas, leaning against the Man and sighing. Eomer felt his lips brush against his throat and the hot air exhaling against his skin. He missed both sensations keenly when Legolas stood up straight once more. "I must ask you to indulge me in a little rambling without interrupting, no matter what I say."
Eomer nodded wordlessly and gestured for him to continue. "I desire you as well," said Legolas. "I've been wanting to do more than just kiss for longer than I care to admit, but I'm…I'm afraid. I don't mean this as an insult – it doesn't have anything to do with you, really – but…. I know that you would never leave me unless you had no other choice but I also knew that he would never leave me either. You are not him; then again he didn't start out as him either. There are times when all I want to do is get beyond kissing and be with you, and I'll think that I'm ready; other times I get so scared that everything will get messed up again. Am I making any sense or have I just succeeded in insulting you?"
"Perfect sense, and no insult taken," Eomer assured him. "You've been hurt before and it's difficult to work past that. I'm so moved that you're trying so hard to be with me, but it sounds like you're talking about – forgive the analogy – going from trotting around the learners' arena to riding bareback at top speed over the open plains without stopping anywhere in between. There are other things between kissing and sex that we can do. I mean, what else do you have some experience with?"
Legolas was decidedly uncomfortable, having never discussed the details of his personal sex life so candidly before. "I've kissed and I've had sex," he offered with a shrug. "Well, he touched me but he asked to make love to me before I could do the same, or anything else, to him." He suddenly looked very young. "That was my first time."
The Man silently cursed Caladel's blood sire for being so uncouth and thoughtless as to let a little touching get him so excited that he felt it necessary to rush to the sex part, and then leaving Legolas with all these mixed emotions about sex so that he could move on to supposedly greener pastures. "Touching doesn't have to lead to sex," he said emphatically. "We can do that if you want to; we can use our mouths" –
"For what?" wondered Legolas, intrigued by what he'd only heard about vaguely before. Eomer raised his eyebrows incredulously. "Oh for Elbereth's sake, you've met my father! Do you really think that he talked to me about it, or that anyone else dared to either?" He smiled coquettishly. "Perhaps you can show me what we can do with our mouths."
"Whatever you want," vowed Eomer breathlessly, trying to keep his desire under control as unbidden, tempting images flashed over and over again in his mind.
Legolas responded by kissing him, more tenderly than before; but it was filled with raging fire as he backed up and gently steered them both to the bed. "I want to touch you," he whispered as sat down on the edge. "And then I want you to do something to me that no one has ever done before."
Eomer looked deep into his blue eyes; there was apprehension there, yes, but there was also trust. "That can be arranged," he smiled.
The king leaned his body forward and kissed Legolas, a long and connected series of lip locks as he used his form to guide the elf to lay back. When Legolas was down and he was both lying on top of him and still standing Eomer maneuvered himself onto the bed as well, shifting and directing until they were both on their sides. After a few more moments of relaxing in that familiar territory of kissing, Legolas' hand found Eomer's hip and began to slide down; lower and lower, then under his pants, until it made contact with the place that made the Man gasp aloud. Legolas continued to explore that piece of flesh with a mixture of awe and enthusiasm as their kissing grew more fevered. It felt wonderful to be the one giving the pleasure, to hear Eomer's increasingly loud and rapturous moans and cries and know that it was because of him. His hand grew ever bolder and more confident until Eomer thrust hard into his grasp and cried out his name as he climaxed.
Struggling to breathe normally again, Eomer couldn't help rolling Legolas onto his back and caressing his face as he stared down at him adoringly. "You are so – I don't deserve – you make me feel things that I never thought that I could feel," he declared, his eyes so full of emotion that it almost made Legolas ache to look into them. "I want you to feel what I just felt. Let me pleasure you with my mouth, please."
"Yes," consented the elf amorously as his body begged for release.
Eomer slid down, his face always hovering over Legolas' clothed body, until he was at the prince's waist. "I'll have to lower your leggings a bit," he warned, not wanting to give him the wrong impression. Legolas nodded and the king slowly slid the garment down just enough to free Legolas' arousal. "Tell me if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable."
Legolas tried to say something along the lines of 'all right' but was robbed of all speech when he saw Eomer lower his mouth onto him. An indescribably fantastic wet heat surrounded the elf and he let out a choked cry of pleasure. The Man knew what he was doing, skillfully pleasuring him and holding his hips carefully in place when Legolas lost all thought and started to thrust. With Eomer's talent and the fact that it had been almost six years since he'd found rapture with another person it didn't take long for Legolas to reach his peak and soon he found himself falling over the figurative edge.
"Oh," the elf breathed after several moments of deep panting. "That was – I'm sorry I didn't know about that until now." The joking left his face and his expression turned tender. "I'm so blessed to have you in my life, Eomer. Thank you for being so patient and understanding with me."
"It's not nearly as difficult as you seem to think it is," smiled Eomer serenely. He lowered his head once more, this time to rest it on Legolas' stomach, and whispered in a voice so quiet that no Man could be able to hear it unless he'd been speaking directly into his hear: "I love you."
He'd forgotten, however, that Legolas was not a Man, but an elf with keen ears who could hear any confession in such a voice perfectly. As Eomer lay there, completely content, a new worry – more potent than the physical intimacy issue could ever be – hit the elf like an avalanche.
To be continued…
A/N: I know that Aragorn has been physically absent from the story as of late (although I have been trying to reference him in every chapter so that he doesn't completely disappear). The fact of the matter is that he doesn't really fit into this part beyond how Legolas' experience with him influences his relationship with Eomer. I've been building up Legolas and Eomer's relationship to give it some weight against the complexities of Legolas and Aragorn's relationship and to make the love triangle more compelling and not as easy to sort out. Aragorn will be back in Chapter 31.