Author’s Note: The Destruction of the One Ring, Aragorn marries Arwen and is crowned in Gondor, 3019. The Ring Bearers departed from Middle Earth on September 29, TA 3021 and begins the Fourth Age. Since I was unable to find specific birth dates on the principle characters, despite hours trolling on various research sites and driving alex_cat and larian_elensar crazy, I have decided to play loose and fast with the dates. All errors here are my own.
Eomer was 28 when he was crowned King and approximately 91 when he died. Elfwing became King of the Rohirrim IV 63. Eldarion became King of Gondor IV 120. Prince Barahir, Lord of Emyn Arnen (residence), Prince of Ithilien, Steward of Gondor. Assumed titles IV 82 after the death of his father, Faramir, at age 120.
Those who study Tolkien hold that the Numenor Kings willingly gave up their life when their heir turned ninety. However, I believe that noble Aragorn would have elected to stay longer, considering that his passing would leave his beloved Arwen alone. To that end, I place Eldarion's birth around IV 11, Elfwing's birth around IV 39 (this assumes he was approximately 24 years of age at the time he ascended the throne), and Barahir having been born in or around IV 40.
My thanks to cez for inadvertently providing this plot bunny.
*~*
Summer, 56 Fourth Age
Forty horses thundered over the plain in near perfect unison. At the head of the small troop rode Aragorn, King of Gondor, on his right rode Prince Faramir, Steward of Gondor and on Aragorn's left rode Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood with Gimli the dwarf riding pillion with the elf. Behind them rode Eldarion, Elessar's son and Faramir's son, Barahir. Ranging along behind and beside the nobles of Middle Earth were hand-selected warriors of Gondor's formidable army.
Though they wore armor and carried weapons, this was no raiding party. Rather they were galloping over Rohan's grassy plains on their way to Edoras to attend a long awaited event. Eomer, King of the Riddermark was hosting his son's coming of age party. The newfound friendship between the two kingdoms and the relative peace reigning in Middle Earth allowed for the two kings and the Steward of Gondor to maintain closer relationships. That the King of Rohan's sister, Eowyn, had married Prince Faramir made the two nations even closer.
Prince Eldarion and Prince Barahir were close friends, despite the slight difference in ages. In fact, only one year separated Prince Barahir and the Crown Prince of Rohan, Elfwing. Technically, Eldarion was many years older in age, but his elven blood made him mature more slowly than the humans. He had only just reached his majority a few years before. The party thrown by Aragorn and Arwen brought many of the few remaining elves from Eryn Lasgalen, formerly known as Mirkwood.
After a week, Barahir and his cousin, Elfwing were inseparable, leaving the future king of Gondor feeling left out. The dark haired youth intended that this party would be different. He was not going to be made to feel like distant and unwelcome kin at a Shire dinner party.
The party topped a crest and came face to face with a division of mounted cavalry. As the party drew to a halt, two riders detached themselves from the group and began moving forward. Eomer was easy to recognize, despite the blond hair having begun to gray at the temples. His face still bore his usually fierce expression, the same one he'd worn so many years ago when he'd first stumbled across a man, an elf, and a dwarf trespassing through his uncle's lands. The young man beside Eomer was at first no so easily recognized, but as he drew closer, everyone realized they were seeing Elfwing.
With a smile on his face, Aragorn nudged his horse forward and the others followed suit. "Hail, King of the Riddermark!" He shouted.
"Hail, King Aragorn. And be welcome. Prince Faramir, glad I am to see you again." Eomer drew closer and leapt down from his horse with a spryness that belied his eighty-plus years. His brown eyes shown with glee as he cast his gaze to his sister's son, Barahir. "Come, nephew, and greet me properly."
Barahir needed no other encouragement as he climbed from his horse and rushed to embrace his uncle. "Sire. My Lady Mother sends her love and regrets."
"How fares Eowyn?" Eomer clapped Barahir on the back, taking note that his young nephew had his mother's strawberry blond hair and freckles, but his father's build.
"Well, enough, Your Majesty. The winter was hard on her, but she has recovered, though not enough to travel yet." Faramir placed his hand on Eomer's shoulder and squeezed gently, doubting that Eomer could even feel his touch through the heavy leather armor.
Eomer turned to Aragorn. "And your Queen?"
"She is well, but chose to remain behind with Lady Eowyn to keep her company while all the men were away. She did send a gift for you, my young prince," Aragorn added to Elfwing.
Elfwing smiled broadly, looking even more like his father. His brown hair was sun-streaked to a golden blond at the tips and worn long and pulled back from his forehead, in the fashion of the Rohirrim. Brown eyes peered out from straight brows, the same color as his hair. "I look forward to receiving it."
Barahir hooked his arm over the slightly shorter youth's shoulder and led him over to the fine horse. "He is a beauty, cousin."
"Aye, my present from father. I was gifted with him only yesterday." Elfwing glanced over his shoulder. "Prince Eldarion. I am glad you have traveled all this way to wish me a happy birthday. Will you come and see my gift?"
Eldarion, again feeling as an afterthought, climbed down off his horse and approached Elfwing and Barahir while the adults spoke of political matters and old times. "He is magnificent," Eldarion admitted. "Has he a name?"
Elfwing looked at the Prince and hoped Barahir couldn't feel his knees quake. Eldarion was tall and finely boned, in the manner of elves, with dark straight hair cut just at his collar. His gray eyes were keen and seemed to look right through one. Elfwing felt sweat slicking his forehead and wiped the back of his wrist over his face. "Starfire."
Eldarion walked around the horse, taking in the strong lines and fine muscles rippling beneath the dark brown hide. Rohan horses were second only to the ancient elf bred horses, and those were too few in number since the elves had started passing over the sea. "An animal worthy of a king, surely. Even a future one." He smiled at Elfwing.
Elfwing was certain that everyone around him could hear his thudding heartbeat as Eldarion smiled. The prince was without a doubt the most handsome creature he'd ever seen. The three youths clustered around the horse and talked of trivialities until at last Eomer announced it was time to leave. They all remounted and began a leisurely pace to Edoras, though they would not make it by nightfall. The plan was to visit the Hornburg, a place that neither Eldarion nor Barahir had seen and Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas had not been back to since the battle.
By early evening a light mist began to fall and the company pulled up cloaks and huddled into their hoods. They approached the great walled fortress and rode between the great mounds standing silent testimony to the final battle on Rohan's soil. Nothing grew on the mounds and in the drizzling rain the sight was indeed abysmal.
Eldarion watched in awe as his father and Legolas and Gimli bowed their heads as they passed. Eldarion, of course, knew the legend. Huorns had come in the night and swallowed Sauruman's army of orcs and left, in their place, the two great mounds of dirt. He had not expected his father's reaction, however, and he realized there was more at work than mere legend. Just beyond the two dirt-covered mounds was another mound, this one covered in grass and flowers and he frowned.
"What is that one?" He asked in a hushed voice.
Elfwing leaned closer to Eldarion and his brown locks swung loose from behind his ear. "The grave of the heroes. Ever does the white flower evermind grow and the grass remain green upon that mound, but upon these, neither plant nor bird is ever found. Even the carrion eaters have shunned it."
Eldarion wanted to brush the hair from Elfwing's face but kept his hand tightly on his reigns. "My father has said that Helm's Deep has never been taken. Is this so?" Of course, the prince knew the answer to his question for he'd studied history and military strategy, as all future kings should. He desperately wanted to keep Elfwing's attention.
They rode two abreast through the portcullis with Elfwing riding beside Eldarion and Barahir riding behind. "Even Sauruman could not take the Hornburg with all his orcs and dark magic. Though truly, the Rohirrim would have fallen without her allies such as your father to aid them."
Gondor's future king nodded as if Elfwing's words the most profound he'd ever heard and winced a little as he heard a soft snicker behind him from Barahir. "My father said there were caves beneath the fortress and that one of your heroes fought the orcs all through them with the aid of Gimli."
Elfwing cut his eyes at Eldarion. Surely the prince knew the history. He almost made a comment about the endless questions that Eldarion already knew the answer to, but did not. If the prince wanted to keep him engaged in conversation, so be it. He was certainly not going to complain.
In the courtyard, they party dismounted and stable hands came and led the tired, wet horses to the stables while the Captain of the fortress ushered the guests in to the main hall. Retainers took their belongings to chambers deeper within the fortress. Torches lined the walls, casting flickering shadows along the high ceiling. A fire crackled in the large hearth. A trestle table ran the length of the hall with benches placed on either side Steaming platters of food were placed the length of the table along with pitchers containing water, mead and wine.
"After dinner I could show you some of the cave," said Elfwing, picking up where they'd left off in the courtyard. "I don't know all of the caves, of course, but I do know some of the upper levels. They aren't much, mostly used for storage now." He stumbled to a halt, suddenly embarrassed by his presumption that the prince of Gondor would want to go prowling through dusty storerooms.
Eldarion inclined his head and his dark hair momentarily obscured his face. "I would like to see them. I have been fascinated with such things for some time. I suppose you could lay blame for that on Gimli, for he has long spoken of caves and underground halls and now I long to see one up close."
The party fanned out, finding seats at the great table. Eomer sat at the head, closest to the fire, with Aragorn on is right and Faramir on his left. The three boys were left to find seats below Gimli and Legolas, which suited the trio fine. They had better things to discuss besides past wars and politics.
Dinner was soon over, the table was cleared and the young men were allowed their own pursuits. Barahir, who had little interest in the caves, convinced Eldarion to first view the valley from the heights of the great curving wall of the Hornburg while the rain had stopped. On the battlements, warriors walked, keeping their vigil as they had for many ages.
Eldarion leaned over the wall and looked around. The area was rain slick and glistened darkly under the moon. In the distance he could see the burial mounds. Birds pecked among the flowers on the mound of the heroes and at Hama's lone grave, searching for worms and other insects. He noted nothing disturbed the mounds left behind by the Huorns and shivered.
"Those mounds make me uncomfortable," he reluctantly admitted. "Great evil lies beneath them to scare away even nature's creatures." Unconsciously, he leaned closer to Elfwing.
Barahir smiled to himself and moved a little further away. "I'm going back down to the stables and check on the horses. I'll catch up with you inside. "
Elfwing could feel Eldarion's body heat and he longed to reach out and touch him. "Come, Eldarion, let us go down to the caves before it gets much later. Father desires to ride out early for Edoras tomorrow."
The left the wall together and made their way through the fortress to the lower levels. Inside, Eldarion made to remove his cloak, but Elfwing prevented him.
"The caves are cold, friend. You'll want your cloak." He took an unlit torch and touched it to one flickering in a bracket. "Here's yours." He retrieve the lit one from the wall and pushed open a heavy wooden door.
Frigid air and a dank smell wafted from the darkness beyond. Eldarion tried to peer ahead in to the gloom, but even his eyes could not penetrate the darkness. Following closely, he stepped in to the darkness. He pulled his cloak closer, grateful for Elfwing's warning and lifted his torch high.
The rock walls were a little over man height and were rough hewn. Doors opened off the long corridor, revealing store rooms full of barrels and baskets. At the end of the corridor were stairs leading downward.
"What's down there?"
"The lower levels. We can go down, if you like, but I've not been far myself." Elfwing's voice was hushed in the echoing darkness and he stood as close to his companion as politically expedient.
"I would like to see everything. I may not get this chance again, so I must seize this opportunity."
Elfwing nudged the prince in the shoulder. "Come then."
The stairs were slick and cobwebs hung in the corners. In the distance, they heard a rat skittering. The stairs seemed to go on forever and at their end, the youths found themselves standing in an area devoid of anything resembling the rest of the Hornburg. The walls were scraped out of the rock where necessary, but for the most part were natural. In sections, a layer of water covered the floor and there was the constant sound of dripping water. The air was cooler and contained an earthy smell, not rank or dank, but clean and cool.
They stood back to back and held their torches high. "Which way?" Elfwing asked.
Eldarion looked both ways. "This way," he indicated the left and stepped aside to allow Elfwing to pass.
Eldarion was completely entranced by the caves and his head swiveled as his eyes chased every shadow. Their footfalls echoed eerily, giving them the impression they were being followed. They poked their noses into grottos and small rooms branching from the main hall, seeing the flotsam and jetsam left behind by warriors and the last battle that was waged throughout the caves: bit of broken armor, a buckle, the rusted hilt of a sword.
Elfwing had grown increasingly quieter as they walked and his steps slowed considerably as they stumbled over the remains of his people's history. The cold seemed to seep into his bones and he shivered constantly beneath his cloak. He would have happily returned upstairs, but he was afraid Eldarion would think less of him for his admission.
"Want to rest for a minute?" Eldarion felt Elfwing shiver and wondered if the scenes of the battle were a little too much. For his part, the prince of Gondor could maintain a certain emotional distance, but he had to wonder if Elfwing could do the same.
Elfwing nodded and looked around. They were in a small chamber that had once been used as small barracks. There were the remains of some wooden beds and a table littered about the room, the wood half rotten and worm eaten. Broken crockery lay about and there were pieces of broken armor looped over a three-legged chair. Elfwing put his torch in a rusty bracket and dusted off his hands.
"This room hasn't been used since before the Ring War," he observed as he looked around. "The Rohirrim had really more or less abandoned the Hornburg before the war. We maintained it in case we needed it again, but the caves were virtually unused."
Eldarion began testing some of the wood and found that it was quite dry. "I wonder how a fire would work in here?"
Both princes looked up at the high ceiling lost in the shadows. "I would imagine the smoke would drift around in the ceiling for a bit, but we'd have to be careful. I do not know if there were airshafts dug and how they might connect to the rest of the keep. I would hate to have half the fortress down here to investigate a fire."
Laughing, Eldarion had to admit the truth of that. His father would be furious. "How about a small one, then? Just to warm us up." He gathered a few sticks of wood and piled them in a corner.
"They probably used braziers down here," said Elfwing. "Those look like soot marks higher up." He pointed towards a dark smudge.
Eldarion stuck his torch against the kindling and watched in delight as the old wood instantly caught. Placing his torch in a bracket, he dropped a few more sticks on it to keep it going and then sat down on the cold stone floor. "Come on, Elfwing, sit down and get warm."
Reluctantly, Rohirrim sat down cross-legged beside his friend and huddled deeper in to his cloak. "We would better off hanging them near the fire to dry out a bit, but I'm too cold." Neither of them moved to remove their cloaks.
"I think," observed Eldarion, "that we have walked a lot further and longer than either of us realize. I am certain it is past moonrise."
Elfwing studied his friend for a moment and noticed a gentle point to the ear peeking out beneath the thick dark hair. He'd almost forgotten that there was elven blood in those veins. "It is said of elves that they always know the time for they are attuned to the earth."
Nodding slightly, Eldarion confirmed this. "Aye, and more, I suppose, though with me it is not as strong, for the elven blood in me is diluted. My grandfather was the Half Elven, and my father's line comes from the elves, but that does not make him an elf. Were I an elf, I would not feel the chill of this place."
"Your ears," Elfwing hesitated.
"What of them?" Eldarion tucked his hair behind his ears to give Elfwing a better view.
"They are somewhat pointed." Elfwing wanted to touch them, but felt that to reach across the small space would be too intimate.
"And yours are not," teased Eldarion. When Elfwing did not reply, Eldarion switched tactics. "Perhaps we should head back to the top? This was maybe not such a good idea."
A light blush crossed Elfwing's face. "I am sorry, Eldarion. I did not know what I expected, I suppose. But I am glad I came. I had not realized how much of my people's history was lost down here. You can read about the history and listen to the tales the old grannies or grandfathers tell, but you cannot fully grasp it until you see for yourself the remains."
Eldarion sympathetically draped his arm over his friend's shoulder. "You are right. I did not fully grasp what my father and his friends had been through until I came down here. I know that Gondor was at the head of the armies that fought, but I did not understand the devastation even after having been to Osgiliath."
"Do you think me a silly child, Eldarion?" Elfwing felt suddenly shy. Technically, he and Eldarion were many years apart, but they felt close to the same age.
Before he could stop himself, Eldarion had kissed the top of Elfwing's head. "No, I do not think that at all." He froze for a moment, with his nose pressed to the top of Elfwing's hair and waited for the thunderous response. But Elfwing's only reaction was to snuggle down a little further. His move surprised Eldarion, but the prince was not one to complain, especially since he'd been thinking about getting the Rohirrim in his arms since the early afternoon. He gently stroked up and down his friends arm, cautious lest Elfwing become uncomfortable with his touch and put an end to his pleasure.
Elfwing couldn't believe Eldarion had just kissed the top of his head, nor could he believe his luck as the prince stroked his arm. He wanted to lift his chin and offer his lips to Eldarion, but fretted that what his companion offered was sympathy and compassion and nothing else was meant by his touch.
The small fire burned down some and they sat silently watching as the embers flared and glowed. The room grew warmer, though not hot, and Elfwing shrugged off his cloak. The pair was quite comfortable and disinclined to move. The torches began to gutter.
Elfwing looked up and opened his mouth to tell Eldarion that they should head back soon, but something halted him. From his perspective he could see the strong jaw and the soft bronze of his skin. His eyes were focused on the fire and glowed a light shade of gray by the dying light. As if sensing Elfwing's scrutiny, he looked down and smiled in a way that stole Elfwing's breath. He licked his dry lips and tried to think of something to say.
In the light, Elwing's eyes smoldered and seared deep in to Eldarion's heart. He could think of nothing at that moment but how the wide lips might feel against his own. Giving no thought to the consequences of his actions, he tilted his head and placed his lips against his friend's. A jolt went through him, even at so chaste a contact and he shivered.
Elfwing did not pull away, but rather stretched his neck to receive more of Eldarion's lips on his own. They held that position for several long seconds, with just their lips touching and Eldarion's arm around Elfwing's shoulder. Elfwing ended that as he parted his lips and traced Eldarion's lips. Eldarion gave a low moan and opened his own mouth, inviting Elfwing to explore.
He raised his arms and locked them around Eldarion's strong neck and pulled him closer. His tongue swept past white teeth and touched the prince's tongue. An electrical thrill whistled through his body, making it thrum in a way that never had before. He felt hands fist in his hair and his teeth clashed against Eldarion's as they pushed closer together.
Winding his hands tighter in Elfwing's hair, Eldarion dimly wondered at the soft texture. The blond tresses were so thick and full, yet as soft as a caterpillar's cocoon. He pulled his mouth away from Elfwing and greedily sent his lips questing along the prince's jaw, seeking the throbbing vein in his neck. Eldarion ran his tongue over the throbbing pulse and groaned when he felt Elfwing shiver. With each passing moment, his leggings grew tighter and he wondered how long the sweet torture would last before his friend came to his senses and pushed him away. Hands snaked inside his tunic and his response was to bite down on the tender throat.
Hissing softly, Elfwing threw his head back as far as possible, silently pleading for more of the delicious pain. By feel alone his shaking hands fumbled with the laces and toggles holding Eldarion's tunic closed and his pushed his hands inside the material. His palms encountered smooth, hot flesh and splayed his fingers wide to cover as much surface as possible. To his hands, Eldarion's chest felt like marble overlaid with velvet and he wanted to taste the flesh beneath his palms.
"Eldarion?"
For a split second, Eldarion froze as disappointment and desire warred within him. Reluctantly he lifted his head from Elwing's throat. In the dim light, he could see a deep red mark where his teeth and tongue scored the flesh and he licked his lips, still tasting his friend upon his lips. He kept his eyes down, afraid and ashamed to meet Elfwing's eyes. "Yes?"
Hands nervously danced over Eldarion's skin as Elfwing tried to find words for the emotions and sensations swirling through him. "I want to touch you," he whispered as he hands finally found Eldarion's flattened nipples and he stroked his calloused thumbs over them, causing them to draw up.
Eldarion looked at Elfwing through thick, dark lashes and smiled. He released Elfwing, tossing aside his cloak, and began to remove his shirt, slowly exposing himself to his friend's gaze. As the tunic came off, more corded muscle and taunt skin was revealed and Elfwing swallowed at the beauty being presented to him. Truly he never thought to see anything more sensual or beautiful in his life. Eldarion tossed aside the tunic and the undershirt.
"Now you," he said in a shaky voice. "Let me see you."
Elfwing shifted to his knees and made short work of his own clothes, leaving only his leggings and boots. Both youths stared at each other, noting the differences and similarities. Elfwing's skin was warm olive and smooth, save for a fine gathering of hair that went from his navel down below the waistband of his leggings. Whereas Elfwing's chest was broader, paler, and covered with a fine layer of hair that ran from his nipples and gently tapered down his torso to disappear inside his leggings.
Eldarion's hands came up and pressed against the fine hairs. They tickled his palm. Leaning forward, he pressed his face where his hands had been, and rubbed himself against the unbelievably soft hairs. He wanted to tell Elfwing the truth that he had never been intimate with a man before, but feared that his friend would scoff. Instead, he had to rely on instincts.
Strong hands tugged his hair, forcing his head up and Eldarion met the nervous gaze of his friend for the first time and he realized that Elfwing was every bit as confused and inexperienced as himself. A sense of relief filled Eldarion and he relaxed. "Have you?"
Elfwing's face turned pink and he shook his head. "No."
"Neither have I," Eldarion admitted ruefully. He claimed Elfwing's hand a placed a gentle kiss on the knuckles before laying the palm against his chest.
The heart beating beneath his palm was rapid, but steady and Elfwing found that reassuring. He rose a little higher on his knees and slid his arms around Eldarion's neck, pulling him close. He nuzzled along his friend's neck and touched his tongue to an earlobe. Eldarion hissed appreciatively and Elfwing was reminded of something he'd once overheard concerning the nature of elves' ears. Acting on impulse, he pulled Eldarion closer, digging his hands in to his back and sucked the tip of Eldarion's ear in to the warm cavity of his mouth.
Eldarion grasped Elfwing by the hips and pulled him tight so that they were pressed closely together from groin to collarbone. His hands slipped around to Elfwing's butt and he dug his strong fingers in to the hard muscles. The harder Elfwing sucked on his sensitive ear, the more frantically he ground his aching erection into his friend. His hot, moist breath fanned over Elfwing's shoulder and he jabbered incoherently in a mixture of human and elvish as his passion overwhelmed him.
Elfwing pulled his head back and kissed a trail across Eldarion's upper chest, calming his friend down some as pressure was taken from his ear. Deliberately Elfwing kept his body pressed tightly against Eldarion's as he kissed and nibbled his way inexorably to the other, neglected ear. Inasmuch as he understood not one word of the elvish being whispered in his ear, the sound was erotic and sent shivers traveling up and down his spine. He lunged upwards quickly and clamped his teeth on the tip of Eldarion's other ear and held on to the prince with both hands as Eldarion began squirming madly against him. Their erections pressed together inside their leggings and they ground their hips together fiercely. The friction was unbearably sweet and painful and he wanted it to go on forever. In his arms Eldarion began to sway and Elfwing raised his head for a moment.
"Lie back?" He asked hoarsely.
Nodding, Eldarion twisted off his knees and lay back with his legs slightly spread and bent at the knees. His eyes were large and luminous as he watched Elfwing loosen his leggings and push them away from his hips, exposing his long, thin cock to the cool air. Far from being uncomfortable, the air felt good on his heated flesh and the shivers rippling over his body were from excitement and not the cold. After loosening Eldarion's breeches, Elwing undid his own and then lay atop his friend turned lover, pressing his heavier weight down upon Eldarion.
Eldarion slipped his hands beneath Elfwing's loosened leggings and kneaded the smooth skin of his buttocks. He heard and felt his lover's sharp intake of breath and was gratified to know he could affect Elfwing as easily and to the same degree that Elfwing excited him. Ever so slowly, Elfwing began moving slowly, rubbing their bodies together, creating a delicious friction that left them both panting and shaking.
Digging his fingers into Elfwing's back, Eldarion arched his hips and pressed his body as close to his lover's as possible. He would have wrapped his long legs around Elfwing's waist if he could have, but his leggings prevented him.
Elfwing slid back and forth, moving their bodies against one another in a slow, sensual glide. When Eldarion pushed up, Elfwing gave up any pretense and began rocking harder and faster as he grasped long strands of hair in his fists and clamped his teeth around the slightly rounded ear. Together they hissed and moaned and whimpered as they ground themselves against one another. Elfwing held his lover's head still and covered his mouth in a deep, brutal kiss as he found his climax. Seconds later, Eldarion dug deep red furrows into Elfwing's buttocks as he reached his own.
They lay together for while, breathing heavily and shuddering from the release of spent passion. Behind them, the small fire they had built died down and the torches in their rusty sconces guttered their last before going out and plunging them into darkness.
At first, they lay still and listened to the natural sounds within the caves. Then Eldarion stirred. "Did you happen to bring flint and tender?"
"Nay, I never thought to be down here so long. Did you?"
"I had no need of it," admitted Eldarion. "Barahir knew where we went. Surely when we are missed he will tell someone."
"You are not worried?" Elfwing lifted his head for a moment, his eyes trying to penetrate the gloom.
"About being down here? Nay. I am worried that you may be cold."
Elfwing reached down and retrieved their cloaks and wrapped them around themselves. "Better?"
"Almost." Eldarion grunted and he struggled out of his boots and breeches.
Laughing, Elfwing also removed the remainder of his clothes and the snuggled close beneath the combined cloaks and began anew.
"I have found them," called Legolas as he held his torch high in the dark room. "They are…Well. Gimli, go tell the others I have found the missing Princes and they are fine."
Elfwing and Eldarion climbed to their feet and began donning their clothes and Legolas politely turned his back.
"I am glad to know that the alliance between
Gondor and Rohan has been strengthened by your friendship." Legolas placed
the slightest emphasis on friendship.
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