FIRE AND SILVER

DISCLAIMER: I do not own or have any rights to the characters from LOTR- I am only borrowing. Bronwyn is my own invention, I hope you like her!
Please R & R so I know what you think. I need the boost!

*FIRE AND SILVER*

Eomer cursed as he walked to the stables. How could he be so blind? How could he not see how Eowyn felt? He cursed again so loudly that the men around him looked askance at him while hurrying past.
The people of Rohan loved and respected Eomer and the men he commanded would gladly lay down their lives if he so ordered it. But when he was in a foul mood like just now he was best avoided and left alone until he cooled down.
Reaching the stables he strode to the back stall where his own steed was kept and leant against the door. Whenever a black mood was on him he came here to Firestorm, the large chestnut always calmed him and made him feel better. He’d raised him since his mother had rejected him not long after he had been foaled and he had been a faithful companion these past ten years.
He fetched some brushes and stepped in beside the horse that whickered gently against his shoulder in greeting. Stroking his smooth coat with the brushes he let his mind drift back to earlier this evening when Aragorn had dismissed Eowyn’s attentions. No, that wasn’t fair, he corrected himself, Aragorn seemed to be oblivious to Eowyn’s feelings. Only the people who knew Eowyn well could know that she loved the Ranger – or at least thought she did.
Pausing in his grooming he removed his overcoat and shirt, beginning to feel hot in the stall. Firestorm turned his head slightly as if telling him to hurry up and get back to brushing, making the young man smile.
It’s not as if he didn’t like Aragorn, from the moment he had met him out on the plains he could tell here was a man to be admired. His quiet confidence and his determination to find the halflings were marks of a good man in his books. Then when he had fought beside Theoden at Helm’s Deep when he could have left – yes, he was a good man and he was proud to call him a friend.
But his sister’s unrequited love distressed him because it was not an enemy of flesh and blood that he could defeat once and for all. Women’s emotions had always confused him, why couldn’t they be more like men? He knew what to say to get one of his male friends out of a mood, or if they had women trouble he could offer advise but what do you tell your own sister. All these things went through his head while he worked on Firestorm until the rhythmic chore settled his mind and he let his mind empty and just drift.
He never noticed the tall woman who watched him from the shadows. Bronwyn let her eyes rove over his half-naked form, hidden from view she could let herself look all she wanted. The way young maidens were not supposed to look.
His long blonde hair was sticking to the sweat that stood out on his skin and she longed to lick the salty beads from his chest. To run her hands over the muscles of his back and to kiss each scar on his body.
As Eowyn’s best friend she had grown up around Eomer and had always liked him but then one drunken night he had stumbled into her in a corridor and impulsively kissed her. Bronwyn had been kissed before, awkward wet kisses from the boys her own age but when Eomer had kissed her she knew then the difference between a boy and a man.
His arms had been like steel bands around her, pinning her to his chest, not that she would have tried to escape. His mouth had been hot and demanding and she had eagerly opened her mouth as his tongue slid inside. Abruptly he had let her go and stepped away when Eowyn had come looking for her.
Without a word he had walked unsteadily away leaving her tingling all over, not understanding what she was feeling. Since then he had treated her the same, just like a little sister. But she wasn’t his sister and with war coming she needed to show him that before it was too late.