Elwin – Eternal Love

*Disclaimer: I obviously don't own LotR, the awesome movies, any of Tolkien or Peter Jackson's work, or anything really. I can dream though – one day they'll be mine, I tell you! One day…*

Note: AHHH! IT'S THE SEQUEL! Sorry if I cut it off at a rather inconvenient point, but I thought it would be nice to leave the two love birds in a happy(ish) moment, rather than me mess up their lives even more – because that's what I'm most likely going to do. Ah, being evil is so much fun XD Poor chaps can't catch a break…

If you've already read the previous story, Elwin – An Elf's Love, then you can skip this bit. IF NOT then read on :)

Basically, this story (Elwin – Eternal Love) is the sequel to my previous story (Elwin – An Elf's Love – if you haven't guess already, I'm really crappy at coming up with titles…), which was a LegolasXOC story, featuring my OC – you guessed it – Elwin. I recommend that to get the full experience of this story, aka the characters, the relationships, etc, you go and read the previous one, but it's not completely necessary (it would just make me happy :D ) The previous story ended around the time The Two Towers ended (maybe a little earlier) and this one begins at around the start of The Return of the King :)

Sorry for the long note! Please R&R and I will love you forever, and give you a cookie XD

~ Chapter 1 ~

There wasn't much laughter or playful chattering in the air as the horses plodded along, but the general atmosphere was light and the sun was warm and there was a pleasant breeze in the air – overall, the journey to Isengard was quite enjoyable.

Legolas and I were certainly closer than we had ever been before (even more so when you take into account how much we had hated each other at our first meeting), and we both certainly felt inclined to spend a little more time around each other, especially after our kiss in the infirmary. After some thought, I had definitely decided that Eowyn was right – I did like him, more than I had ever liked anyone before, and I desperately wanted Legolas to return these unfamiliar feelings. I had never particularly felt this way towards anyone before, so it was strange to me when I decided that I enjoyed spending time around him, and I maybe even enjoyed the arguments and constant bickering that we threw between us, and I definitely enjoyed him kissing me, though I wasn't sure how to react at first.

Of course, I knew ages ago that I didn't hate Legolas as much as I always tried to convince myself I did, and that I did think he was extremely attractive (and despite being horrible to me half of the time, I knew the Elf could be sweet and endearing, as he proved in the armoury before we had gone off to fight), and, with the help of Eowyn's constant nagging me about him, I came to accept my feelings for him.

But, of course, there were always complications. Yes, we had kissed once (twice if you count that time in Edoras, but I tried to think about that as little as possible these days) and what I felt for him was strong, an emotion more powerful than anything I had ever experienced before… but I was far too nervous to just go and walk up to him, stating that I wanted to continue this whole little 'thing' we had – and, besides, what if Legolas had changed his mind? What if he thought that the whole ordeal had been a mistake, and he never wanted to look me in the eye again?

I knew this was a worse case scenario, but I still didn't want to risk it. If Legolas really did feel the same way… well, then, he was going to have to prove it, since when it came to me reading how he felt, I was as useless as a sword made from paper.

Besides, even if he did feel the same, I doubted we could have kept up a relationship in these conditions (and I still wasn't sure he entirely trusted me yet). Things were just far too complicated for us both to deal with, and I suppose… well, that was that.

The thought depressed me and I found myself scowling as Éomer's horse plodded us both forward. I had been planning on sharing a horse with Aragorn, since I still didn't have one of my own (nor did I particularly want one – not that I didn't love them; I thought they were fantastic beasts, it's just I didn't trust myself riding one by myself), as I always had, but had secretly hoped that Legolas would offer.

However, just as we had been about to set off, I was surprised to find Éomer approaching me.

I looked up the tall Rohirrim man, and it was evident that I must have looked rather startled as Éomer laughed and help me buckle the rest of mine and Aragorn's supplies onto the back of the saddle.

"My lady, I seem to have frightened you," he spoke smoothly, and I was torn on how to react – the first time I had met Éomer, he had insulted me (however this had caused Legolas to speak up angrily on my behalf, a small gesture which I had never really appreciated fully until now), and this made me inclined to scowl and turn my back to him.

However, he had called me my lady, a title which nobody ever called me – and I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it slightly. It had been a long time since anyone had addressed me as 'my lady', or even 'miss' for that matter, and it made me feel quite powerful and renowned, as if men should be expected to kneel and lightly peck my hand before addressing me fully.

Which, you know, would be quite fun if I actually was that sort of woman – I wasn't, unfortunately, but I did rather like the name when it came from Éomer's mouth.

But Éomer was also smiling – in fact, overall, the Lord of the Mark just looked generally happier, and while at first I had thought him to be a rather sour, arrogant, serious looking man, I admit he looked a lot more inviting when he smiled.

In the end, though, despite still being a little miffed about the last time we had met, the my lady thing had caught me off guard and I ended up giggling a bit and grinning back at him.

"You did not frighten me," I assured him, yanking tightly on the last strap – but, despite my efforts to control it, my momentary trepidation did not go unnoticed. Thankfully, Éomer decided to ignore it, most likely for my own sake and sense of pride. "I just did not expect to see you, that was all."

The corners of Éomer's mouth turned upwards slightly and he smirked down at me (he really was quite tall, about the same height as Legolas, or maybe even closer to Aragorn's height). "Am I not allowed to speak to you, then?" He laughed brightly, and though I felt a little insecure in his gaze, I found myself joining him. "Or has my sister said something terrible about me?"

Great Ilúvatar, I had forgotten that Éomer was Eowyn's brother! Now I had remembered it, I did see the strong resemblance – they had the same flaxen hair, like a great field of corn or wheat, and also the same intense fire burning fiercely behind twin pairs of eyes (though Éomer's were more of a hazel, while Eowyn's were almost grey in colour). They could almost be twins, but Éomer's tanned and weather-beaten skin gave him away, giving the impression of an older man – at least older compared to Eowyn's softer, pinker tone, that is.

"No, no! Don't worry, on any occasion where Eowyn has mentioned you, every word was meant well."

"Meant well?" he repeated, looking more and more amused at how flustered I was getting – Éomer had caught me off guard twice already, first with making me jump when he snuck up on me, and the second for just being so… nice? Not that I ever doubted he wasn't a nice person… he just wasn't when I first met him, that was all. "That is good I suppose. At least my sister did not speak terribly of me, at least that I am thankful for! I am sure you already have a bad first impression of me, so there would be no need for her to make it worse." He smiled and I returned it warily.

"So, did you need something?" I asked, and Éomer looked at me blankly for a second, before seemingly remembering his purpose for coming over.

"Ah, yes… well, firstly, I would like to apologise."

"Apologise?" He looked sincere enough, but I didn't know the man well enough to believe him on that alone. "You came to apologise to me?"

Éomer smiled sheepishly, keeping eye contact but reaching out to the horse I was holding and patting its side. "Yes. I believe that when we first spoke I was… shall we say, more than a little rude to you. I am also sorry that I could not apologise sooner, as I have not seen you since, nor did I know you."

I blushed, feeling the heat rush to my face in a torrent of scarlet. "You, um, still do not know me."

Éomer grinned, a strong, charming smile made velvet and silk, it seemed. "Ah, yes, my lady, but I would like to change that. Please, forgive me. I insulted you before I knew what an able warrior you were, and that was wrong of me." He pressed his hand to his breast and bowed his head, awaiting my answer patiently.

I laughed nervously, slowly nodding my head – I still wasn't used to that my lady thing; and had he really just called me an able warrior? "Yes, of course. Don't feel bad, it was partly my fault anyway. I should not have lost my temper so swiftly."

"Even so," Éomer continued, "I insulted you nonetheless, and for that I am sorry. I should not have disrespected your right to travel and fight, especially as you have proven yourself to be so skilful at it."

I bit my lip, trying to contain some of my joy at his completely undeserved praise – he was surely just trying to make up for being rude to me by showering me in compliments, and frankly he was doing a very good job at it.

Even though Legolas had promised me he would trust me from now, I still wasn't so sure that the Elf was willing to fully put his faith in me just yet – I had scared him too much by jumping from the wall into the midst of battle, and, though I had come out of it alive, Legolas's faith in me had crumbled.

So, Éomer calling me an able warrior seemed like a breath of fresh air in comparison. It was nice that someone – whoever it was – actually believed in me, for once.

"Then... you are quite forgiven, if you put it that way."

Éomer bowed his head again, this time in gratitude. "Thank you, Elwin." He raised his eyebrows and looked at me quizzically. "You do not have a horse of your own, do you?"

I shook my head, part of me wondering where he was going with this. "No, this is Brego, Aragorn's horse. I am to share with him, as I have done many times in the past."

"Then, please, by all means share with me! It is the least I could do, and I would be honoured to have you by my side as we travel."

"That's very kind of you, Lord Éomer… but, Aragorn–"

"Oh, I am sure he will not mind, if we explain to him. Please, I insist, Elwin. It would set my heart at ease if you were to join me."

Feeling a little overwhelmed by his offer, I looked over my shoulder to see if Aragorn was anywhere nearby – he was, but he was in deep conversation with King Théoden, while Legolas and Gimli chatted and joked close beside them.

Legolas looked up and our eyes caught for a fleeting, heated moment, before I forced myself to look away.

I breathed in, returning my gaze to Éomer's, who was waiting patiently. "Yes, okay then. I will ride with you."