Author's Note: This is a work of fiction, I have tried to keep true to Tolkien's work, though there are times I might not have got it right. I apologize for this, though my main reason was to entertain.

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of The Rings, nor any of the characters from it. I do own a full scale replica of Éomer's helmet and sword…

Part 3

Eldarion had hoped the storm would abate, but it seemed to be one of those that went on for ages, at least several days. When the boys prepared to go to bed, rain was still pouring against the window. The thunder seemed to have mostly passed, though the wind was howling and there was the occasional crash as a tree fell, or something else was blown away and wrecked by the wind.

The fact that it had not let up had certainly caused Elfwine some distress and he had been a little despondent and dejected throughout the day. They could not go out and play outside, and there were only so much one could do indoors before the adults started looking annoyed. Certainly they made allowances for the fact that the children were cooped up indoors, but even so Eldarion had caught an annoyed look or two. Éowyn had chided them for being too loud around the baby, for which they had apologised. She had not been mad at them, but Eldarion had to agree it had been a thoughtless act.

A few of the servants had seemed more annoyed, but not dared to speak up against the King's son, no more than they dared to say an ill word against the heir of Rohan. That did not mean the boys wished to make a nuisance of themselves. Instead they had taken their slightly more rowdy game to a corner of the throne room where there were nothing breakable and no babe to wake from a nap.

The stone floor however was not suitable for such games, and after Elboron had suffered a bruise on the forehead, Elfwine a partially black eye and Eldarion himself and skinned both elbows they had been forced to see this for a fact.

Now, as it approached the time they would be sent to bed Eldarion had noted both his friends were uneasy.

"We need not sleep in my chambers," he offered. "I am certain Éomer king shall not mind if you wish to sleep in his."

"I would not be scared, but I do not wish to," Elfwine decided.

"Why do we not use the fort?" Elboron mused, carefully touching his forehead to feel the lump. "It was not scary at all there." The blanket had been left, but even so, it was not much of a fort.

"I suppose we could," Eldarion mused.

"And an apple braid," Elfwine decided. "It was not scary, it was fun."

"I do not know if Father would approve of us planning to do so," Eldarion bit his lip. "I know we're allowed if we wake and wish to, but it is a different thing to plan it."

"Then we do not plan it," Elboron, was a pragmatic child who saw no reason to invoke complications. "We have only to do so, we need not plan it."

"Very well, but only if we can not sleep," Eldarion felt that to be a reasonable compromise.

"We can ask Fæder to build up the fort better," Elfwine suggested. "We need not say why, I want a story before we go to bed. We can have the story in the fort."

"Aye, that we can," Eldarion nodded. That was a good idea, there was nothing wrong at all with wanting a nice cosy blanket fort to hear a story in before one went to sleep.

The King of Rohan was also only too happy to oblige. Not only did he help them to construct a much sturdier blanket fortification, but he also sat with them in it to tell them a story of Rohan. Elfwine fell asleep almost instantly, and Elboron not long after. Eldarion was already dozing when he noticed that Éomer lifted first Elfwine, and then Elboron to their beds. So when he was picked up he only wrapped his arms around him.

At that time, he had expected Elboron to sleep through the night, he certainly thought he would. Then he found himself sitting bolt upright in his bed, the sound of a falling tree still echoing in his ears. Elfwine threw himself out of bed, running over to his bed and leaping onto it. Eldarion did not even think, he simply wrapped his arms around the smaller boy.

"It is okay," it was the first rendering splinter of the tree trunk that had woke him, but he had heard the crashing sound of the trunk and the heavy snapping of the branches as it settled enough to know what it was. There wasn't really many trees in Edoras though, Rohan was mostly open plains, so Elfwine would not know the sound. Judging by the look, he thought Elboron had. "It was only a tree that fell."

"That loud?" Elfwine blinked.

"Aye, they are really loud, but I know the sound well," Eldarion assured him.

"Oh," the boy gave him a sheepish look. "I thought maybe it was an Orc."

"If it had been an Orc, our fathers would have been in here long since to get us and our mother to safety," Elboron stated. "And then they would have gone out and fought them."

"I know that," Elfwine glowered. "But it woke me, it's hard to think right when you wake."

"That it is," Eldarion stated firmly, not wanting either of his friends to argue with the other. "And if there had been any danger, they would already have come here. We are safe."

"Of course we are," Elboron climbed out of bed to sit down next to Elfwine on Eldarion's bed. "But I do not know if I could sleep again."

"Not if it is going to sound like that," Elfwine decided at a loud crack that Eldarion thought was a breaking branch.

"We could fetch a small snack and use the fort," the heir of Gondor decided. "But we must be careful. Ada would not approve if we do this too much."

"Mõdor would scold us very," Elboron winced. "But she knows not we already have, if she had, she would not have been silent."

Eldarion nodded at that, Éomer had obviously not told his sister then. It was hard sometimes to picture that Éomer and Éowyn whom he looked to as uncle and aunt were brother and sister. Certainly the King of Rohan was fiercely protective of her, but so he was of his own mother also. The King of Rohan would not stand idly by if one of his friends were in danger, and Eldarion knew well that should his own life, or that of Elboron be in danger, Éomer would fight with as much ferocity as if it had been Elfwine. While it was a comfort, it also frightened him. He was not related to Éomer by blood, though all the man treated him as kin, and to think that at some point, Éomer might save Eldarion's life at the cost of his own was a horrifying thought.

Then also there was the way that Éomer and Éowyn would argue and tease one another, it seemed strange, though his mother told him she recalled such behaviour from her own dear brothers, so he supposed it was only strange because he had no sister himself. He certainly teased Elboron much the same way sometimes, and Elboron teased him back.

"I do not think she knows," he decided, for certainly this was a matter that Éomer would not have seen the need to share with her. If he approved of them doing it so soon again he did not know, but Éomer was fair and would understand he felt. "But we must be very quiet and we must be careful not to be discovered," he decided. He found his slippers and robe, Elfwine scrambling down to stand barefoot on the cold stone floor while Elboron paused, then shrugged and joined him. Not caring for slippers.

The corridors lay all empty, lit only enough that men could patrol them, and the three boys slipped quietly through them on their way to the kitchen.

They were so intent on looking ahead of them so as not to encounter anyone, that neither one looked behind them to see the man standing outside Eldarion's door. Shaking his head, the large man followed them, quietly, staying in the shadows so that one casual glance behind them might not be enough to reveal his presence.

In the kitchen, the three boys stood themselves before the pantry, gazing at the laden shelves and the immense amount of food.

"We must try not to let it be seen we have been here, so no milk," Eldarion decided.

"A good idea," the deep voice behind them caused all boys to shriek, Eldarion managed to grab Elfwine by the shoulder and forced him in behind himself while Elboron scrambled to the side.

"Fæder!" Elfwine frowned, peeking out from behind Eldarion.

"We did not plan to do this, not really, we liked it, but we did not plan it certainly," Eldarion rushed to explain. "We woke from a tree falling, and we were not sure we could go easily back to sleep." He hesitated, the King of Rohan could look more intimidating than most men he knew. Even now in shirt and breeches, barefoot and with his blond hair tussled he looked a formidable man. Eldarion had seen him show anger, but never truly mad at one of them and he hoped never to have to experience that. "We will go back now," he added in a small voice.

"No need," Éomer put a hand gently on his shoulder. "I do not think you should make this a habit, but this storm has lasted days now, I think that allows for some leniency."

"You are not cross?" Eldarion bit his lip.

"Nay, I am not, but I would suggest you exhibit more caution this time," Éomer urged. "I know it must all look quite tempting, but one should never take more than one can eat, for you never know who might have better use for it later."

"Aye," Eldarion nodded.

"You all had a fairly nice supper, and you will all have food to break your fast on the morn, I should think a light snack would be all that was needed," the blonde king decided.

"Aye," Elboron agreed.

"Can we still have apple braid?" Elfwine frowned.

"We shall see," Éomer scrutinised the shelves, then he frowned. "Hold there, quiet," going back to the door he looked out, closing the door as he came back into the large kitchen and quickly grabbed Eldarion by the waist. "Quiet now, at least until they enter," he urged. Lifting him up and depositing him in an empty cauldron well large enough to hide the heir from sight. Grabbing Elboron he hoisted him up on one of the higher shelves in the pantry, finding a spot large enough between half a roast duck and the remains of roasted venison. Elfwine, he nodded to hide behind a large clay urn containing pickled fruit that stood on the floor of the pantry.

Glancing over the rim of the cauldron Eldarion saw him slip to the side and all but disappear into the shadows in one of the corners. He hurriedly ducked as he realised someone coming through the door, he was not fearful, for had there been any danger Éomer would not have simply hidden them from view. He would have armed himself with meat cleavers and knives and sent the boys to safety.

"Their chamber is empty, I should say they are with Éomer," the voice he heard was that of the Steward and Elboron's father.

"And what reason had you for coming this way upon discovering this fact?" that voice belonged to his own father, and the King of Gondor, and Eldarion bit his lip to remain quiet.

"My wife woke me, and demanded I ensured they were safe, as they are not in their chambers, and not in yours, they can only be with Éomer. Though if I return now, my wife shall certainly wish for me to go there as well, to be certain," Faramir stated. "I felt this to be the better option."

"And you felt that to venture on such an adventure and leave our comrade in arms behind is fair?" Aragorn asked teasingly.

"We can not risk waking the boys, now can we?" Faramir mused.

As both men had passed him, Eldarion raised his head, from his vantage point, and knowing where to look, he could see where Elboron was hidden, but the two men in the pantry would not. Faramir was looking at the shelves, moving a turkey pie in the search of the honey cakes.

As Elboron reached a small hand forward to drop crumbs in his hair, the heir had to clasp his hands over his mouth to not laugh out loud.

Frowning, Faramir reached up a hand to scratch his head, then shrugged and continued his search.

On the floor, Elfwine peeked around the pot, and leapt forward to wrap himself around the Steward's leg.

The shrill startled cry of the Steward was far too much for Eldarion to remain silent and he burst out into a laughter that echoed from the cauldron.

"Valar!" Faramir exclaimed.

"Uncle!" Elfwine beamed up at him. "I can not reach," he pointed to a plate of hand pies just visible on a high shelf.

"I thought you were with your father," Faramir frowned as he unwrapped the boy from his leg.

"We were," the little blond warrior declared. "I can not reach, uncle…"

"And you thought that reason enough to scare the life out of me?" Faramir drew a deep breath, but he did reach for the pies, and leapt back as the face of his own son looked back at him. "Valar, what are you doing up there?"

"I can reach," beaming Elboron took one of the pies from the plate and dropped it down to his friend.

"It would seem the boys were not where you thought them to be," Aragorn mused as he stepped away from the pantry to where a choked laughter was echoing in the most strange fashion. Leaning over the cauldron, he fished out his son. "Prey tell me, how many more boys have you hid in here?"

"None, father," Eldarion stated. He did not see how Éomer King could count as a boy.

"Is that certain?" Aragorn queried and he nodded.

"Do you doubt the word of your son and heir?" the voice of Éomer right behind him was enough to cause Aragorn to jump with a startled cry. The sound of the boys' laughter had completely masked the sound of the young warrior moving. Without the usual cumbersome armour, the man was able to walk very quietly Aragorn mused. Though glancing at him, it was not so strange. Mail, armour and heavy boots were certainly always louder than a man barefoot and only wearing shirt and breeches. Even his own slippers would have been louder on the stone tiles he knew. Unless a man's feet got so cold he did not feel how heavy his steps were.

"Nay, but I do think he might have volunteered more information," he sighed. "Did you take the boys here then?"

"I rose to make certain they were well, and followed them unbeknownst," he smiled. "Your son is not unskilled, but he is no ranger yet," he ruffled Eldarion's hair. "You need a bit more practice yet, but it is a skill I should think you able to learn soon."

"The tree that fell woke us, but we were not scared enough to require help, only so much we did not wish to sleep," Eldarion hurried to explain. "We were not going to take much, only a little, to help settle us for rest."

"Given our own presence here, I do not think I have the right to scold you," Aragorn shook his head. "Rather, I think I should enquire if we may join you?"

"We were going to take it back to my chambers and eat it in the fort," Eldarion mused. "For you can not hear the storm so well then."

"The fort sounds like a good idea," Faramir decided as he carefully sought to extract his son from a platter of pastries. "Why do you not take a few of those?"

"Aye father," Elboron selected several of the finest looking ones and passed them to his father before he allowed himself to be lifted down.

"Fæder, is there any apple braid?" Elfwine tugged lightly at his father's shirt.

"We shall see," lifting his son onto his arm the blonde King quickly found the remains of one.

This time, they all used more restrain in their selection, and Aragorn found a platter to hold it all to be carried to the boys room. Adding a small crock of milk for the boys to drink.

The fort had been well large enough for three boys to sit in and hear a story, but for three boys and three grown men, it was more crowded. Aragorn felt it safest to position himself between his steward and the honey cakes, and Éomer had lifted Eldarion as well as Elfwine into his lap. Elboron laid down on his belly, pillowing his head on Éomers thigh, and draping his legs over Aragorn's lap.

"May we have a story?" he asked softly.

The boys were right, Aragorn mused, with the blankets hung as they were, the sound of the storm was actually muffled to some extent if not much. With the food, it seemed even further from mind, and when one added the soft melodious voice of the King of Rohan, as he told the story of the legendary horse, Storm Wing, and his race across the sky. Lightning striking from his hooves as they struck the clouds, and the mane blowing in the wind as it swept over the sky, it seemed to fade completely from mind.

The Rohirriim passed on their history in their stories, but some were better at telling them than others, and when Éomer spoke, even Aragorn found himself listening enthralled.

As the last passage of the story faded, not only three boys slept easily in the arms of their fathers, but so also slept the well seasoned warriors secure in the knowledge their sons were safe.

End Part 3

TBC

Thank you all who's read and reviewd, the pantry raiding Cricket is thrilled...