"Bonfire Heart"

Days like these lead to...
Nights like this lead to
Love like ours.
You light the spark in my bonfire heart.
People like us—we don't
Need that much, just some-
One that starts,
Starts the spark in our bonfire hearts

~ James Blunt

Beowyn was at the study door early, despite Malwyn's warnings not to disturb the King. The elf's sharp ears heard the rap and he crept from the bed, a smile on his face as he looked at Eomer, snoring, tangled in the silk. He must be the only man in the world to be woken by his nightshirt sliding about, Legolas thought. He slipped into his own leggings and a cotton shirt and taking his comb and mirror from the table, let Beowyn into the study.

"Happy Yule, Legolas!" she whispered, mindful of the still sleeping King. "Did he like it?"

The elf gave her an odd grin. "He loved it, Beowyn. Next year we'll make him an elven coat, shall we?"

The girl smiled brightly back, and then held out her arms and gave a twirl, showing off the new dress. "Do you like it? The Lady Malwyn gave it me last night! She said I needed something good for festivals."

"It's wonderful!" Legolas told her. "And just the right colour for the ribbons."

He worked quickly, and gave her four braids, leaving the back of her hair loose, but attaching the braids in a formation almost like a cap. The blue ribbons flashed in and out of her golden hair, and brought out the dark cornflower of her eyes. She looked in the mirror in amazement.

"Happy Yule, Beowoyn," he told her, as she hugged him and headed back down to Malwyn. The feasting would begin at midday and last until late in the evening. He looked over the clothes Eomer had chosen for him to wear, and that he'd run some steam over with a borrowed kettle to get out the creases. If Eomer didn't like elven finery on his own person, he definitely knew what he liked on his lover, Legolas thought. The long, dark green overcoat was worked in gold thread, with designs of the great trees of the elven forests. The high collar had a solid half inch of gold satin stitch edging it. Dark green leggings and boots. He'd much rather have worn his new black ones, but Eomer had chosen a pair dark green enough to be considered black, the tops of which, that hit above his knees, were also worked in gold thread. In his mind he had a sudden image of Eomer and Thranduil closeted with tailors, designing him a new wardrobe and he shuddered. The shirt was a lighter shade of the green, also of that gossamer silk.

"Oh, Mir," he sighed softly, heading for his perch in the window. He was going to look so overdressed and overdone it would be ridiculous. His few gold rings, his one gold circlet, and a gold pin shaped like an oak cluster were also set up. He cheered himself by thinking it was only once a year. Or so he hoped. Summer solstice was going to be interesting.

Another quiet tap on the door caught his attention, and he opened it to Malwyn and Gimli, beaming at him. He'd figured Gimli would sleep at least another two hours, so his curiosity was instantly piqued.

"Happy Yule, Legolas," Malwyn told him, reaching up to kiss his cheek. Gimli just smiled at him, the slight bleariness about the eyes telling Legolas that Malwyn had routed the dwarf early on her own.

"We've brought ye something, lad," Gimli said. "It's from the both of us." He pulled something from behind his back and handed it to the elf. Legolas shook it out and held it in front of him.

It was a deeper green, more of the colour of moss in the Mirkwood than his old one, but otherwise, the suede tunic was identical. It even had the same embroidery motif worked into it. He looked from Gimli to Malwyn and back again. Then wordlessly, he slipped it over his head.

"It's wonderful!" he exclaimed. "How can I ever thank you?" he asked, embracing Malwyn and clapping the dwarf hard on the shoulder.

"Stop going about in that old ratty one," Malwyn said, her joy at his pleasure in the gift evident in her voice. "I've got standards to maintain, and the Consort running about in rags doesn't help."

His eyes darkened at the word and Gimli was about to say something, but Malwyn stopped him. "Off you go and get into your glad-rags, Gimli," she said, gently pushing him out the door. "I just need a quiet word with our Lord Prince."

"I know you don't like the term, lad, but you're going to have to get used to it or tell me what you do want. People are going to start looking about for something to call you."

"What's wrong with just Legolas?" the elf asked. He looked around the room. "Is it too early for wine? I need something and there's no coffee up here."

"It is Yule." She smiled at him. "The entire hall will be in it's cups by sundown. I'm sure you can handle it." He poured two cups and handed her one, clinking the goblets together. She took the chair he pulled out for her and leaned in to speak softly.

"The problem, lad, is that you're royalty. Not just at home, but here. It may not be known among the people that you two are married, but what they do know is that you act like you are. Yes, you are very discreet, and there will always be a few blowhards, but by and large, in a warrior culture like ours, it's not as uncommon as you think. What is uncommon is that instead of a King and a Queen, we've got a King and an Elf. The common folk feel uncomfortable saying Eomer King and Legolas. It's not respectful, and you've got respect in bucketfuls, lad. I would suggest Lord Prince. It is what you are, after all."

"Eomer King and Prince Legolas?" he asked, snorting.

"Eomer King and Legolas Prince," she corrected.

"No, it's always Legolas Thranduilion," he told her. "In Sindar the Prince would come first. Can we compromise on that?" he asked.

"It's probably going to be Eomer King and the Lord Prince," she told him.

"I guess I can live with that," Legolas told her. He ran his hand over the sleeve of his tunic. "This really is wonderful, Mal. Where did you get it done? I'll go there for all my clothes."

"Thanks, lad, I'll squeeze you in when I can," she grinned.

"You? You made this?" he asked prizing it doubly for her work.

"Gimli brought me the materials, mind, and looked after the dying. He couldn't quite match the other one. And we borrowed your old one for the measurements. Thank goodness you've finished your growth. Eomer was twenty three before he stopped putting on the muscle."

Legolas chuckled. "Mal, I finished my growth a long time ago," he told her. "Longer than you would credit."

"Leave it there, my lad," she told him, holding up a hand. "Gimli explained it in a way that lets me wrap my poor grey head around it. He makes me feel like a girl again after telling me how old he was."

Legolas was suddenly struck by a frightening thought. Malwyn read it in his eyes and laughed, so loudly that Eomer's snoring stopped.

"Lad, it's written all over him in letters big enough for any woman to read. We're good companions, that's all. Go, get yourselves ready. I'll send a boy up with coffee. Of all the foolishness," she said, still laughing as she left.

Eomer was wrestling with his nightshirt when Legolas returned. He looked up and his brow creased. "How do you sleep in this?" he asked, petulantly. "It was like trying to sleep in a rowboat, tossed here and there."

"I don't," Legolas reminded him with a feral grin. "What do you think? Gimli and Mal made it for me." He unconsciously imitated Beowyn's little twirl.

"It looks comfortable." Eomer said, giving up and pulling the nightshirt off, popping one of the buttons in the process.

"That looks like it's not, Mir," Legolas said, with a mock sigh. "I release you from your promise and you never have to wear it again. I don't know why you need to wear anything to bed anyway. The blankets are enough, aren't they?"

"Not in the deep of winter, they're not. You have to remember I haven't had your delicious self to keep me warm before this year. Don't be surprised if I wear socks when it gets colder."

"The ones Beowyn knitted for you? We'll have to get another bed just for them."

"They are a little thick," Eomer admitted. "My boots are tight when I wear them."

The door banged, and Legolas went to answer it. He found Gimli, the boy with the coffee tray, and Fritha, holding on to Dorf, who was wrapped in a bit of red flannel.

"Happyule, 'Glas," she said, reaching up to be lifted. He took her from Gimli and kissed the top of her head.

"Happy Yule, Fritha," he said. "You and Dorf are all dressed up aren't you? Happy Yule, Krith" he said to the boy, who nodded and set down the tray. "Coffee, Gimli?"

"Thanks, lad." Gimli said, sitting down heavily. "The lass needs to talk to you." He started to pour.

Legolas leaned towards the door and called out, "Eomer King, coffee's here! Will you get another mug from the shelf?," he asked the dwarf. "What is it, Fritha?" he turned his full attention to the child,

"'Glas, you make 'Wyn's hair all pretty?" she asked him, patting her own.

"Yes, I did." he told her, sitting down with her in his lap and taking the coffee Gimli handed him.

"You make mine hair all pretty?" she asked. He looked critically at her thin, almost white baby hair.

"Yes, but not like Beowyn's. Like mine," he told her, motioning to where he usually had his side braids. She pushed his hair back, looking for them, then back up at him, confused.

"Special Fritha braids," he explained. "With your pretty red ribbons at the end. Will you like that? You must sit very still."

"Yes," she said, clapping her hands so hard that Dorf nearly fell into the elf's coffee.

"Mornin'," Eomer grunted, coming out of the bedroom. Gimli handed him a mug, and he drained it.

"Happyule, Emmerkin," Fritha said, getting down out of Legolas' lap and reaching up to be picked up. Eomer swung her up and she kissed his cheek, than ran her hand over her mouth. He put her back down.

"You don't like my kisses this morning, Fritha?" he asked, flopping into his chair.

She scrunched up her face. "Scratchy," she told him, patting his knee. "Not all soft like Gimmi."

Gimli shrugged. "If you insist on trimming it, lad, this is what happens."

Fritha stopped her climb back into Legolas' lap and looked up at the elf. "No beard 'Glas?" she asked, as it had suddenly occurred to her. In her world, men had beards, women and boys didn't.

"Go ahead, 'Glas, explain this," Gimli said. Legolas shot him a look, and then pulled his hair back to expose one pointed ear.

"Elf," he told Fritha. "Pointed ears, no beard." She thought about it for a second, then shrugged.

"Hair now?" she asked. He nodded and went to get his comb and mirror.

"Hair?" Eomer asked Gimli, refilling his mug.

"Yonder elf did Beowyn's this morning. The little lass wants hers done too." He grimaced.

"What?" Eomer asked, noticing the dwarf's face.

"Never mind, maybe she'll forget," Gimli muttered into his cup.

Fritha sat very still as the elf gave her tidy little braids and tied giant bows at the ends with the red ribbons. She was delighted and crawled up into Eomer's lap to have them admired. Legolas downed his cooling coffee when the little girl held out her doll.

"Now Dorf," she said. Legolas looked at the tattered poppet, wrapped in his gay red flannel, doing his determined best to look festive, and shook his head sadly.

"Dorf has no hair," he said sadly. "No braids for Dorf, I'm afraid. But he looks very happy in his new outfit, doesn't he?" Fritha looked sad for a moment and then cheered. She left Eomer's lap and pulled Gimli by the hand.

"Yes, ready for happyule." she told them. "Now Gimmi."

"What?" Legolas exclaimed, as Eomer's coffee came up his nose.

Fritha regarded the sputtering king, the stunned elf and the glowering dwarf as if they had taken leave of their senses.

"Gimmi has soft hair, you can make pretty too," she told them. Eomer let out a howl, and Fritha scowled at him.

"Fritha, dearest, you know that Gimli is a dwarf," Legolas said, over Eomer's laughter, pulling her back into his lap. She nodded, wondering why the men in her life had all gone crazy. "It is very important that a dwarf braids his own hair and beard. He has to make special dwarf braids and I don't know how to do that."

"Oh," she said, looking sadly at him. Then she brightened. "Come, Gimmi, make special dorf braids." She reached over to tug his hand.

"One moment," Legolas said, retreating into the bedroom and coming out with a package. "Happy Yule, Gimli," he told the dwarf, handing it over. Gimli looked at it curiously, then opened the leather pouch and sniffed. He looked up at the elf with happy eyes.

"Longbottom Leaf," he said. "Thank you, lad. And your own work on the leather, at that! Why don't you see if you can't get the lunatic back under control in time for the feasting. I'll see you both down there." He was led out by Fritha, showing off her bows to everyone they met, her piping happyule heard ringing down the halls.

Once the door was safely shut behind them, Legolas' laughter matched Eoemr's.

xXx

The hall was full when they reached it. The children ran with the dogs and Hroth looked so longingly at them that Legolas nodded at him. The hound, growing by leaps and bounds, for all he'd been born a runt, joined in the game and his arrival alerted the children to the King's presence.

Legolas, having decided that if he had to look ridiculous, Eomer might as well too, had made sure the king was dressed in his best, the crown resting comfortably now on his head. He and Gimli, whose beard was spectacular in it's coiffure, followed a pace behind Eomer as he entered the hall, and Malwyn, wrapped in her new cloak, Legolas was delighted to see, led them up to the dais. She offered the golden cup to Eomer with the traditional blessing, and he drank and handed it back to her with the proper response. The hall exploded into noise and the general merriment of the day was underway.

Striding about in a full cut elven coat was not the easy task Thranduil always made it seem to be, Legolas noted, with just a touch of chagrin. He was worried about tripping, of all things, made worse by the crush of people. He was built and trained for action and all this material about his knees hampered him. But he made several circuits of the room, stopping to talk to everyone he knew, exchanging good wishes and greetings. Gimli and Eomer of course, not hampered at all, made their way easily, tankard always in hand. He tried some of the watered down and mulled Dorwinion, and while it wasn't bad, he was glad he'd kept some back for his private stores.

People ate and moved away and came back for another little bit of something, there was singing, and most of all laughter shook the hall to it's very rafters. Eomer sought out Malwyn to compliment her on the feast, and found her behind a door, wiping away tears.

"What, Mal, what's wrong?" he asked, concerned. He pulled her into a hug.

"I was just thinking about how it was last year," she admitted. "If we could only have known what this year would be like."

"This year, and every year from now on," he told her, wiping her eyes. "The people and the land will heal."

"Under you they will prosper, Eomer King," she told him. "I'm proud of you, lad."

When there was a lull, Malwyn gathered the children together and led them out of the hall. She spoke quietly to Eomer, who looked puzzled, but nodded and then she spoke to Higa. Once Eomer, Legolas and Gimli had taken seats on the dais, Higa called for silence. It wasn't easy with the crowd, but Higa wasn't Eomer's herald for nothing. When the hall had quieted down, he spoke.

"The children of Edoras have asked to present their Yule gifts to the King!" he bellowed. "Allow them that courtesy!"

Malwyn herded them back into the hall before the dais, and instead of the trembling there had been before Theoden's throne, the children were full of smiles. Beowyn claimed the honour of presenting Legolas with his gift and stepped forward.

"For the Lord Prince Legolas," she said, in her loud clear voice, "we gift him with greenery to remind him of his forest home. Every child here has picked a part of this crown." She took the holly wreath on a cushion Kerrioth handed her and stepped forward to the steps.

Legolas got down, and turning to check his coat, gave a quick glare to the dwarf, but his face as he turned, took off his circlet and knelt down for Beowyn to place the coronet of green and red berries on his flowing hair, was full of love and delight. He bent and kissed her on both cheeks, then faced the children and touched his forehead, his heart, and then spread his hand to them.

"I thank you," he said, his voice loud and rich. "Both for the gift and the love behind it." The hall erupted into cheering as he turned back and took his seat. Gimli was grinning at him, but there was no disguising the look in Eomer's eyes when he dared glance at him.

Higa banged his ceremonial spear for quiet again, and things settled down. Firtha stepped up, no fear in her small form, shaking her head to show off her bows, causing ripples of laughter in the crowd. Beowyn gave her a nudge and she ran to the stairs, not bothering to collect the gift from Malwyn, who smiled.

"Is pie, Gimmi, is special dorf pie! Wizzens, we all gived our wizzens!" she yelled, and then climbed up into his lap, as he looked at her and the assembled children in confusion. Malwyn came to his rescue.

"All the children asked to give their raisin ration to make this for you, Master Gimli. Meriadoc, Esquire of Rohan gave me the recipe before he left. The children wanted to give you a little taste of home this Yule."

Gimli's head dropped and his shoulders shook. Fritha looked at him, pushing back the hair. "Is happyule!" she called to the other children. "He likes it!"

The hall exploded at this touching scene. Higa wisely gave them a moment to settle and for Gimli to get himself under control. When he had, he stood with Fritha on his hip, and announced that he would share the pie with every child there, so they could all have a little dwarf cooking.

Herroth had, with Thathwyn's best efforts, been tidy at the beginning of the day. But he was a hard playing boy, and his curly blond hair was a mop even more reminiscent of Merry as he came forward. He held a scroll in his hand and read from it.

"Eomer King, We the children of Edoras, with parents or without, thank you for the care you have taken of us. We thank you for giving some of us a second father and for becoming a father to the rest of us. We pledge our love and loyalty to you forever more!"

He looked up at the stunned look on Eomer's face and went on. "Every one of us has signed it, Lord King. To show how we're learning at the school. Even Fritha," he said, and stepped forward to hand the scroll to his king. But Eomer was out of the throne, down the steps and had swept the boy into a fierce embrace. Legolas nodded at Beowyn, and the rest clustered around him, while the hall resounded to cheers and banging of tankards. Eomer hugged every child, and sat down on the bottom step of the dais and went over the scroll, where every child showed where they had written their name. It had been Herroth's idea, they told him, he had written it and brought it around for them all to see and sign, and they were so happy that he liked it.

When the commotion settled down there was more singing, and stories, and people going back for more food. Gimli and the children all got spoons and devoured the raisin pie. And Legolas listened to the epic telling how of he and Gimli came to the Rohan with rapt attention and a pleased smile on his face. He was lounging back in his chair, legs crossed, sipping on his Dorwinion, while Gimli held a sleeping Fritha, and Eomer shot surreptitious looks at him occasionally. When it was done, he applauded loudly, cheering for the singer. He had been a little surprised at how many people had joined in on their favourite parts. Eomer gave him a tiny wink.

Eomer stood, then and announced that they were in for a special treat. The Lord Prince Legolas would favour them with a ballad in his native tongue. Legolas raised an eyebrow at him, and then Eomer nodded at Gimli.

Legolas stood up, and with no accompaniment began Gimli's favourite song. His voice was clear and beautiful, and the unfamiliar phrases rippled like water in the ears of his listeners. For Gimli, it was a reminder of where they had started their odd friendship, and for Eomer, it was a chance to hear it without heartbreak. It was even more wonderful than he remembered.

Mothers started to heard sleepy children home, and even Fritha didn't make a fuss when Thathwyn came to collect her from Gimli. He gingerly untangled one of her braids from one of his bead clips, and Thathwyn carried the child home. Then he began his round of goodnights, finishing with Malwyn. She winked at him and told him the new throwboard was even luckier than her old one and challenged him to a game the next day.

xXx

Between the excitement and the emotion of the day, Legolas half expected Eomer to fall into bed as soon as they closed the door to their room. To his surprise, Eomer drew the curtains open, flooding the room in moonlight. Even more surprising, he opened the window, letting the cold air rush in.

"Come and look," he said, beckoning the elf.

"As soon as I take this off," Legolas told him, tugging at the holly wreath. "There's been a thorn in the back of my head all day."

Eomer was beside him instantly. "Here, let me," he said softly, gently untangling the prickle and taking the wreath off. He placed it carefully on the table while Legolas bent forward and shook out his hair. A stray berry rolled out and across the floor and the elf grinned at it.

Eomer came back to him and gently pushed the elf's hair back over his shoulders. Then he took him by the hand, their fingers entwining, and led him over to the window. "Look," he told the elf, letting go of his hand and waving at the view. The snow had stopped, the clouds rolled away, and the sky was alight with a frosty brittle brilliance, as only stars in winter can be. The moonlight reflected in the fresh snow twinkled with it's own light, echoing the skies above.

"The stars have doubled in their joy for you, Gilthenu," Eomer said softly, his arm reaching around the elf's waist. "Not even the skies can hold it all and they must share it with the snow."

"Mir nin, that's beautiful," Legolas replied, leaning into the man.

"You're beautiful. Everything about you. Tonight you encompass the earth. Is it any wonder that the heavens themselves do you honour?" Eomer whispered. "This is what you are to me, meleth nin." He wrapped both arms about the elf. "Every moment of my life, this is how you shine." He bent his head to rest his chin on the elf's shoulder, breathing in the fragrance of Legolas' hair, mingled with with the sharp smell of the cold, tinged with woodsmoke.

They stood there for perhaps moments, perhaps hours, time seemed to stand still. Legolas, overcome with the love of the man behind him and the beauty of the scene before him, reached up to run the back of his hand along Eomer's cheek and suddenly realized just how cold it was.

"Mir nin," he scolded softly. "You are worth more than this." The elf closed the window, and the man smiled as Legolas turned to face him. He took advantage of their closeness to kiss the elf.

"Your lips are cold," Legolas murmured, running his tongue along the bottom one. "Let me warm you up," he leaned in again, kissing the man again, the hunger he felt for the man creeping in. He ran his hands through Eomer's hair and one of the ornate rings he still wore caught in it. He growled, and once untangled, went to pull it off. Eomer stopped him, taking his hands in his own.

"Let me," he said, slipping it off, kissing the knuckle it had so recently graced. He pulled the others off, one by one, kissing the elf's fingers as he did, until only his silver ring was left. He looked up into the elf's eyes. "Better?" he asked. Legolas nodded, his eyes dark with desire in the moonlight. Eomer turned over the elf hands and kissed the insides of his wrists. Then he undid the cuff buttons of each sleeve, kissing the exposed skin.

Legolas moved his hand to the buttons of the coat, but Eomer caught his hand and kissed him lightly on the mouth again. "Let me, Lord Prince," he murmured against the elf's lips. "Let your consort honour you tonight."

"Mir nin," Legolas said softly, "You always,"

"Shh," Eomer whispered, pushing back the hair to kiss the spot where the elf's jaw met his neck. "Allow me to gift you this service, Lord Prince." For every button there were a dozen kisses and caresses, and by the time Eomer led him to chair, his shirt undone and sat him down Legolas was breathless and straining uncomfortably against the soft leggings.

Eomer had obviously found Legolas' private stash of Dorwinion, for he poured a glass, brought it over and gave it to the elf. Then he knelt and began removing Legolas' boots.

"Eomer King," Legolas said, a sultry smile on his face as he looked down at his lover.

"Lord Prince?" Eomer replied, flicking the hair from his eyes as he raised his head.

"Your service takes an inordinately long time," he drawled, his eyes flickering silver in the light of the moon.

"Do you object, my lord?" Eomer asked with a cheeky grin. Legolas raised a brow. "Then drink your wine, Lord Prince," Eomer said. He ran his hand up the elf's legs, brushing the evidence of his arousal quite deliberately several times as worked his way back up to the elf's chest, slipping his hands under the silk. Legolas put down the glass to avoid dropping it as he tangled his hands in Eomer's hair once again, and they shared several long kisses. Then Eomer pulled him to his feet again.

"Mir nin," Legolas breathed into his ear as he wrapped himself around the man. "You are making it very hard for me to control myself."

"Then my Lord Prince should stop talking and enjoy himself," Eomer said, reaching pulling the silk of the shirt over the elf's head. "His consort has been aching for this for days."

He trailed kisses down the elf's chest, his fingertips tracing lines of fire along his back. Legolas moaned as Eomer untied his leggings, and as soon as he was released and Eomer continued his stroking, he was overcome. Eomer, wiped him clean with warm cloths and dried him, and continued, until the elf was standing naked in the moonlight.

"Gilthenu," Eomer whispered, "Gilthenu, meleth nin," He moved behind the elf, lines of kisses down his spine, his hands always busy. "Mine," he whispered. "You are mine. And I am in awe."

Legolas turned in his arms to face him. "Mir nin, my treasure, my consort," he whispered, wrapping his arms around Eomer's neck. "Githenu, your Lord Prince, would have the king of Rohan in his bed." He nipped at Eomer's lower lip. Eomer grinned and reached to pull his tunic up, but the elf stopped him. "Fair is fair," Legolas said, with a lilt in his voice. Eomer groaned as the elf ran his hands under his tunic.