Flames crackled and danced from the fireplace in the corner, warding off the chill. Eomer appreciated the warmth just as much as he appreciated the cozy, domestic scene in front of him. The last few days of peace after so much death and destruction had been a balm for everyone, a salve for even the weariest of men. Legolas' lips flickered in a smile, but he didn't look up from his papers. "You hesitated on the fourth step." "My cloak caught," Eomer replied, smiling even as he shook his head in wonderment at the preternatural hearing of the Elves. Even after spending the last few weeks almost constantly in Legolas' company, Eomer still felt as though he would never scratch the surface of his lover's people. Finally, Legolas looked up. Crystal-clear eyes, the color of purest dawn, were warm, caressing as they roamed across Eomer's body. "Did you have a good ride?" Eomer tossed his cloak on the back of one of the chairs and sat on the edge of the bed to pull off his boots. "I didn't go." "It's a clear enough day." "I was...distracted." Legolas raised a regal eyebrow. "Was she pretty?" "Not like that," Eomer chuckled. "You keep me distracted enough in that regard." He tugged off his other boot, and leaned back on the pillows. "No, I ran into one of our hosts – the new Steward. We had a most remarkable conversation." "Ah," Legolas nodded, and set aside his papers. Eomer watched through heavy-lidded eyes as Legolas stood and strolled gracefully to the bed. He settled himself across Eomer's lap, slender, well-toned thighs framing Eomer's more muscled ones. There were few things more enticing than watching Legolas move, Eomer decided. "And what was so remarkable about this conversation?" Legolas asked, draping his arms across Eomer's shoulders. Eomer's hands slid up the fine fabric of Legolas' tights, the gesture intimate, second nature. "Did you know that today is Boromir's birthday?" Legolas' smile was brief. "I am familiar with the concept, even though Elves do not celebrate thus." "Why should you?" Indeed, Eomer would have been surprised if Legolas even remembered the day of his birth. "That wasn't the remarkable thing, however." "Go on." "Apparently the relationship between Boromir and his brother was...somewhat close." Legolas simply nodded. "He carries his brother's scent." "Still?" Once again, Eomer found himself amazed at Legolas' extraordinary senses. "You truly are unlike anyone else I've ever met." "I do well enough." Long fingers plucked at the strings holding Eomer's tunic together. "Would you like a demonstration?" "Perhaps." Eomer tossed the shirt aside and pulled off Legolas', baring deceptively smooth skin. "Would this be a very thorough demonstration of your abilities?" The mischievous smile that lit Legolas' face was so radiantly brilliant that it almost hurt to look upon it. "We Elves are very thorough people." A supple hand glided from Eomer's shoulder, down the sinew of his bicep and forearm, fingers curling over Eomer's. "We Rohirrim admire thoroughness," Eomer replied with a husky murmur, lips parting Legolas', teasing, tasting. Another soft kiss – Eomer could taste honeysuckle and that darker, sharp something that reminded him of ancient secrets. A taste he knew he would always associate with Legolas and their time together, however long it may be. "For you, I can be the very model of thoroughness," Legolas replied, and tugged at the laces of Eomer's breeches. "All day and night, if need be." "I need." It was the simple truth. From the moment Legolas had first touched him all those long months ago, sang to him in a litany of beauty and loss, Eomer had been enchanted. A willing slave, Legolas' to do with as he pleased. To the outside world, Eomer was King and Lord of his people. In this chamber, in private, with Legolas on him, in him, under him, he was free from responsibility and restraint. Free to be himself, to let go and let someone else take the reins. He owed Legolas a debt he knew he could never fully repay. Although it wouldn't stop him from trying. "I think I should like to have you on horseback," Eomer murmured, nipping at a smooth, strong jaw. "Perhaps in the morn, before anyone's awake. When it's just us." Legolas pushed Eomer on the blankets and slid lower down muscled legs. "We can let your horse do all of the work." "Sounds ideal." Eomer wrapped long strands of silken hair in his fingers as he brought Legolas' lips to his for yet another kiss, this one heated, thorough. "But, for now, I think I'll have you, just like this," Legolas murmured, lifting slick, shiny lips. "Thoroughly." "As thoroughly as you'd like."
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