Eomer loves this moment more than almost any other. Loves the way time slows, becomes infinite, just before the call to arms. Loves the rapid beating of his heart under battle-worn armor. Loves the heady rush of blood that flows fast through his veins as he gives the command to fire. Eomer loves being a warrior...more than he loves being a king. He feels fortunate that these raids give him a chance to indulge his greatest pleasure. And, he thinks, smiling at Aragorn – private, intimate, hinting at pleasures to come – his second.
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