Riding Lessons

Pairing: Legolas/Éomer
Rating: PG
Feedback: Always welcome at c_rhodora@hotmail.com
Setting: Post-RotK, AU
Summary: Thranduil and his family have sailed West, leaving Legolas as the new King of Greenwood. Legolas decides that a horse trade with the King of Rohan is in order.
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Tolkien and New Line Cinema. No infringement or offence is intended.
Author’s Notes: This fic was written for the excellent Waters of Cuivienen fest challenge. Many thanks and praises to my beta readers, Zasjah and Panthera. This is dedicated to Dodger for putting up with me.

Part X. Lessons from a Squire

Breakfast the following morning was a strained affair. The tension was palpable between the two Kings and Gimli wondered whether it would have been better if he had not said anything at all to his Elven friend the night before. Éomer was subdued, chewing and swallowing his food mechanically, while Legolas restlessly picked at an occasional berry, his spirits visibly dampened. Gimli shook his head. Men and Elves were both troublesome races. Why could they not be more like Dwarves and throw themselves into their work? They were too easily distracted; unable to focus with a singleness of purpose. If only they could appreciate the beauty and passion of mining for example, their lives would be so much simpler. Well, Gimli thought to himself, he would do his best to see to it that his companions were diverted from their personal affairs.

It was in this way that Gimli showed his two friends the new work that was being done in the Glittering Caves. Legolas, who showed an interest in the refining procedure, stayed with the miners while Gimli brought Éomer to the armory to inspect Rohan’s latest order of helmets and shields. The Horse Lord never ceased to be amazed by the fine craftsmanship of the Dwarves and he praised Gimli and his kindred for it.

By late morning, another party arrived unexpectedly at the entrance of Aglarond. It was Heardred, accompanied by a suitable escort for the King of Rohan. The Captain of the Guard had been so concerned about his liege’s safety that he had only taken two hours rest upon arriving at Edoras before setting out again with a team of riders. Lossendir, and two other Elven guards, were also among the group. The party had ridden all throughout the night in order to reach the Glittering Caves before noon, and the Men and Elves, as well as their steeds were quite tired.

Éomer was not that surprised to see his Captain and he greeted him warmly. Then he bade the group to rest for the remainder of the day. It would not do to return to Edoras with their horses unnourished and fatigued. At some point during the day, Legolas and the other Elves disappeared and though the Horse Lord rebuked himself for it, he could not help but feel the Elf’s absence. Gimli, too, was aware of Legolas’ absence but knew better than to seek his friend out when Legolas was in this mood. He would not be able to find the Elf even if he turned over every rock in Aglarond.

The Dwarf, however, managed to corner the Elf in the late afternoon while Legolas was grooming Echuir. Gimli had always been distrustful of any beast that walked on more than two legs and horses were certainly no exception. Still, he would not let that deter him today and he approached the pair with purposeful steps, casting a wary eye on the black stallion from time to time. Echuir seemed tame enough under Legolas’ soothing touch.

“Is this the Elvish stallion that’s been causing all the fuss?” Gimli asked, pausing at what he thought was a safe distance.

“That would be Echuir,” Legolas agreed, running the large body brush down Echuir’s elegant neck.

“Have you had any luck finding a rider for him?”

“‘Luck’ would be the opportune word,” Legolas said, now working on Echuir’s shoulder. “We held trial runs this past week and had only one partially successful candidate.”

“That does not sound promising.”

“No,” Legolas replied, “but yesterday afternoon Echuir surprised us all by allowing the most unexpected rider on his back.”

“And who is this rider?”

“A lad named Wilhelm, son of Weostan. He is a squire,” the Elf added.

“A squire!” Gimli laughed. “Are you seriously suggesting that Éomer is going to allow a *squire* to represent his house in the greatest horse race of Middle-earth?”

“It is more complicated than that,” Legolas admitted. “Wilhelm is not just any squire. He is the squire of Lord Caedmon.”

“Con,”on,” Gimli grunted, his tone leaving no doubt that he had encountered the Man before and the experience had been an unpleasant one. “That is unfortunate. How do you plan to go about training the squire of the King’s enemy?”

“‘Enemy’ is too harsh a description,” the Elf said charitably, turning around to face the Dwarf. “He is Éomer’s third cousin, after all.”

“It is hard to believe they are related by blood,” Gimli commented.

Legolas could not have agreed more rem remained silent.

“So,” the Dwarf prompted, “what is your plan?”

“I have yet to discuss it with Éomer,” Legolas said slowly, “but we must look at the rules of the Rhovanion to the letter. They have been amended over the years, and I believe that anyone may enter the competition now, even strangers from distant lands. But Wilhelm’s case is special. As Caedmon’s squire he would be expected to represent Caedmon’s house, should he enter the Rhovanion at all. There must be some way,” the Elf continued thoughtfully, “to disengage him from Caedmon’s service so that he may represent the House of Eorl. In the meantime, I will ask Éomer if he may spend some time at Meduseld so that I may train him with Echuir.”

“How long do you anticipate this training will take?”

“That I cannot say for certain,” the Elf replied. “It depends largely on Echuir,” he said, looking back at the stallion. Echuir met his master’s gaze, shaking his head at the sound of his name as if to imply that he wouldn’t be the source of any difficulty. “We shall see,” Legolas told the stallion quietly in his tongue.

“And what about Éomer?” Gimli said loudly, competing for his friend’s attention. Better a stallion than a tree, the Dwarf could not help but muse to himself.

“What about Éomer?” Legolas repeated dryly, dipping under the horse’s neck to begin grooming Echuir’s other side.

“What are your plans regarding him?”

“I thouyou you made it quite clear last night what my plans should *not* be,” the Elf emphasized. “I did listen to your wise words. Has the outcome not been what you expected?”

“I think,” Gimli said, “that perhaps you could have handled the situation better.”

The Elf’s heavy silence indicated to the Dwarf that Legolas agreed with his assessment.

“What shall you do now?” Gimli persisted.

“Nothing,” Legolas replied, a little too off-handedly for the Dwarf’s liking. “We shall continue e die did before – as friends, comrades and allies.”

“You are deceiving yourself if you truly believe that is the case.”

“Time,” the Elf assured his friend, “will see to it that we make amends.”

“Time,” the Dwarf spat. “The Eldar have a tendency to forget that other races are not ‘gifted’ with as much time as they are. Furthermore,” Gimli continued in a reproving tone, “for one who has always believed in guiding one’s destiny through action, it is most unlike you to leave matters in the care of Time.”

“Time may be a valuable ally, Gimli,” Legolas said softly.

“An ally,” Gimli repeated, “is merely one who aids. *You* will have to do the bulk of the work.”

~*~*~*~

The company returned to Edoras the following morning. Legolas immediately set the tone for a more formal relationship between himsand and the Horse Lord by inquiring about the specific regulations of the Rhovanion. Éomer followed the Elven King’s lead, not once ioniioning the failed encounter at the Glittering Caves. Together the two brainstormed ways to bring Wilhelm to Edoras under a convincing pretext and, if Echuir was truly agreeable to the young squire, they would find a way to disengage him from Caedmon’s service. But first, they had to bring the boy and the horse together again.

It was in this way that a summons was sent out to all the nobles houses of Rohan requesting that the squires of the various Lords be sent to Edoras for a new training program that involved not only the duties commonly associated with their position, but also new fighting techniques and etiquette learned from their Elvish allies in order to promote greater cultural and social awareness between the two kingdoms. Caedmon, secretly suspecting that there was more to this endeavor than met the eye, could not find anything out of the ordinary about the summons. Moreover, he was not about to let his house be outdone by any of the other noble houses. Thus, he packed Wilhelm off to Edoras along with the other squires to be taught these ‘new’ ways.

There was, in fact, a new training program hurriedly put together, but remarkably efficient nonetheless, by the combined expertise and experience of both Kings. The program would be administered by Heardred, the Captain of Rohan’s Royal Guard, together with his Elven counterpart, Lossendir, and would take approximately one month. Wilhelm, naturally, was to take part in the program, but he was also to receive additional training from none other than the Elven King himself. This was made abundantly clear to him the night of his arrival when he was requested to meet with Legolas in the royal stables after his evening meal, where Echuir on this occasion had chosen to stay.

The boy approached the stables quietly, but Legolas detected his footsteps before Wilhelm had even entered the wide hallway. Echuir neighed and pointed in the direction of the entrance. “Patience,” Legolas told his steed, running his hand down Echuir’s neck.

Wilhelm walked down thegth gth of the spacious stables. He could see the Elf perched on the topmost railing of Echuir’s stall at the far end, the black stallion’s head hanging over the side, scrutinizing the lad. Wilhelm had never encountered a horse with such presence before, with the exception of Déor, but that was to be expected from the Lord of the Mearas. His steps slowed as he drew near almost coming to a halt, but a word of encouragement from the Elven King urged him onwards.

“Come nearer,” Legolas said softly, but his musical voice resonated around the stables with the force of a command.

Wilhelm stopped before the pair and bowed respectfully, a bow meant just as much for Echuir as for Legolas.

“Wilhelm,” Legolas said.

“Yes, my Lord?”

“It is a good, strong name,” the Elf continued. “Do you often go by it or is there another name that you prefer to be called?”

“Lord Caedmon always calls me Wilhelm, as do most other people.” He hesitated for a moment before continuing. He could feel the weight of the Elf’s gaze, and though Legolas was dressed in plain riding clothes, Wilhelm sensed the otherworldly presence of an ancient being. He would not have been surprised in the least if the Elf could read his mind. “But my friends often call me Wulf,” he finished. “They say I have earned the nickname for my bold and reckless ways.”

“Wulf,” Legolas said with a smile. “I like that.”

Echuir also nodded his head, giving the name his seal of approval.

“Wulf, I believe you have already met Echuir,” Legolas said, once again running his hand down the stallion’s long neck.

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Echuir has taken a liking to you,” the Elven King continued, “and as I mentioned at the Éadig Fields, he does not make friends easily. I would like you to spend more time with him and get to know him. Would you be agreeable to that?”

The boy’s eyes lit up. *Who would not be agreeable to that?* he wondered to himself. He had hoped to be able to see Echuir again but this was more than he had ever dreamed of.

“I would be most agreeable,” he said calmly, managing to rein in his excitement.

“,” L,” Legolas said, leaping off the railing and opening the door to Echuir’s stall. “Then we shall begin tonight.”

Echuir stepped out of his stall regally and the Elf mounted him. For a moment Wilhelm was confused, until he realized that the Elven King intended to ride the stallion bareback and without a bridle, just as he had done that day at the Éadig Fields. Legolas held out a hand to the young man and Wilhelm grasped it, sliding in behind the Elven King.

“Noro!” Legolas called, just as Wilhelm managed to get a grip around his waist.

The squire was thrilled as Echuir leapt into the air with his first stride and then thundered out of the royal stables.

~*~*~*~

Wilhelm fell into a routine after that first night. During the day, he remained with the other squires and participated in the training program that he had been originally asked to attend. But at night, he met with the Elven King and trained with Echuir. Sometimes Wilhelm would mysteriously disappear during the allocated breaks from the daily training program, but he would always reappear when he was called for. He also began spending additional time with Lossendir, whom the young man had taken an immediate liking to. The Elven Captain began teaching the squire basic Sindarin so that Wilhelm would be able to better communicate with Echuir. Among all the squires under the care of both Captains, it was Wilhelm who felt most at home among the Elves. The young man had fallen in love with the Elvish culture and wished to learn all that he could about it.

The days flew by quickly and it was only in the third week of the training program nearing the end of June that Éomer realized that Legolas would have to leave soon. Although the Elf had not announced his formal departure, it was understood that he would leave once Echuir and Wilhelm were settled. Now that the horse and the rider were accustomed to each other, er ter training and the building of stamina for the Rhovanion would commence in earnest. Together, the two Kings had worked out a ploy to bring Wilhelm under the service of Heardred. Éomer would write a letter to his cousin informing Caedmon that Wilhelm had shown the most promise and skill among all the squires – a statement that was true enough – and that he wished the young man to enroll in the service of the Royal Guard. The boy’s potential was great, and it was conceivable that he would work his way through the ranks to become one of the King’s most trusted captains. In exchange for parting with his squire, Éomer would send the most promising and talented of the trainees from his own house for Caedmon’s inspection.

Caedmon was not pleased when he received this letter from his cousin. His suspicions were immediately raised again and though he was not particularly fond of his headstrong and oftentimes disobedient squire, he was not blind to the boy’s potential. There was an underlying motive behind these messages but Caedmon was not astute enough to put two and two together. Nevertheless, he agreed to Éomer’s request, not only because his cousin was the King and he did not which to displease his liege, but also because the Man knew that he held the boy’s loyalty in other ways.

By contrast, Éomer was delighted that the scheme he had concocted with the Elf had proven to be such a success. He immediately left his stuo loo look for the Elven King after reading Caedmon’s reply, the letter still in his hand. As he went in search of the Elf, his determined steps deliberately slowed and he wondered what exactly he would say when he found Legolas. There was more he wished to discuss than the success of their plans. The last words Legolas had spoken to him that night at the Glittering Caves often found their way into his thoughts when he was alone. Though Legolas had made no further move to entice or tempt the Rohan King, and had done his best to steer their relationship along the steady path of friendship, Éomer craved more.

*We may try again, if you so desire.*

Desire. Yes, he desired the Elf greatly but he was a coward. He could not bring himself to speak to Legolas, nor for that matter, let his actions speak for him. Legolas also appeared to be deterring him from his goal, dictating the tone and boundaries of their relationship since that night and Éomer simply followed. Occasionally, the Man suspected the Elf of a keen sixth sense, cutting the Horse Lord off before Éomer could even broach the subject. It was frustrating. But what was more frustrating was the knowledge that the Elf would soon leave and these unfinished matters would lay between them. He could not afford to let that happen.

It was in this frame of mind that the King of Rohan approached the royal stables where he had been informed that the Elven King had been seen last. He spotted two golden heads at the end of the wide hallway and the slightly smaller form of Wilhelm. The three were standing by Echuir’s vacant stall and Éomer immediately sensed that something was amiss, judging by the penitent way the boy bowed his head and the look of shame that was written on the other person’s face, whom Éomer soon recognized as Lossendir, the Captain of Legolas’ Royal Guard. When Legolas turned to face the Rohan King, the Horse Lord was taken aback by the fire that burned in the Elf’s blue eyes and the anger that marred his usually fair features.

“What is happening here?” Éomer asked when he reached the group.

The Elven King cast a stern glance at the pair before saying to the Horse Lord, “I think it is best if you hear what has transpired from Wilhelm. I am not yet done speaking with my captain,” Legolas said, fixing Lossendir with a grim look, “but when I am through, we must also talk.”

Legolas’ tone left no room arguargument and Éomer merely nodded his head in agreement, his eyes never leaving the boy as Legolas and Lossendir passed by him and made their way out of the stables.

~*~*~*~

Legolas stopped walking when the two Elves were outside the stables but he remained silent, much to Lossendir’s distress. He would have preferred a severe tongue lashing to this ominous silence from his lord.

“May I speak?” the Captain said at last, in a quiet and contrite tone.

“Speak!” Legolas commanded angrily, his back to the other Elf.

“I should never have let that happen,” Lossendir immediately said. “I have no excuse for my behavior, and I am truly sorry that it occurred. If I could go back and erase the incident, I would do so gladly and I would sing to Elbereth to give me strength. I am deserving of whatever punishment you deem fit, my Lord.”

“Is this the first time?”

The silence that met the Elven King’s question made Legolas turn around in exasperation.

“Lossendir,” Legolas said severely, “he is but a child! Even measured in the years of men he has not yet reached his majority. What were you thinking? You know better than this! We are not in our realm. Rohan’s laws are rigid. Should this incident be discovered, you would be persecuted for it, and our entire training program would be brought to disgrace and ruin. Even if we were in Greenwood,” Legolas continued in a quieter but no less harsh a tone, “this kind of behavior would be unacceptable.”

Lossendir bowed his head, the shame of his actions almost overwhelming him. “Yes, my Lord,” he whispered.

Legolas sighed. He had not anticipated this kind of complication and it worried him.

“You are more than my most trusted Captain, Lossendir,” the Elven King said after a moment’s silence, “you are my friend. But your lack of self-discipline in this matter appalls me, and you have done much to damage my faith in you. I will speak to Éomer now on your behalf, but you must remember that we are in his land and we will abide by his final decision.”

Lossendir nodded, his throat too dry to speak.

“In the meantime,” Legolas continued, “I order you to stay away from that boy. Assign him to another guard for the remainder of the program, and speak to no one of this matter. Is that clear?”

Lossendir nodded again, head still bowed.

“You are dismissed,” Legolas said. But before thetaintain could turn away, the Elven King momentarily grasped his forearm in a comforting gesture. “Take heart,” Legolas said softly. “The King of Rohan is a fair and just ruler.”

~*~*~*~

Legolas had left the fair and just ruler of the Riddermark standing before a nervous squire in the royal stables. Wilhelm shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. This time he had managed to outdo his own reputation for ‘bold and reckless behavior.’ Although Lossendir had an equal share of blame in the matter, he would not shirk from whatever punishment was brought upon him, nor would he play the role of an innocent youth who had been taken advantage of. Oh, no. A child he must have seemed to the ancient eyes of the Eldar, but he had known all along what he was doing. Furthermore, he had been the instigator of the affair and no one could have been more surprised than he when the golden-haired Captain had returned his affections. He thought now of the shame and disgrace brought upon the Elven Captain and it pained him. Lossendir had so much more to lose than he did. They had both been very foolish and had acted without weighing the consequences of discovery. There had to be a way that he could take the bulk of the blame. He was still deep in thought when his liege adsed sed him.

“Wilhelm,” Éomer said gravely, “will you tell me what has happened here?”

Suddenly faced with the prospect of confessing his desires to the King made the blood drain from the boy’s face. It was forbidden and unnatural to be attracted to one’s own sex. Perhaps some leniency would be granted him for dallying with an Elf instead of one of his own kind. Then the lad had a startling thought. Perhaps his punishment would be *more* severe precisely because he had dallied with an Elf instead of one of his own kind. Elves were now seldom seen in Middle-earth, and had often become the source of myth and legend. They were beings to be revered and held in the highest esteem, not to be lusted after or to fill one’s lascivious dreams. What audacity had possessed him to pursue the Elf in that fashion?

“Wilhelm!” Éomer said sharply when the boy did not answer.

“I’m sorry, my Lord,” Wilhelm immediately said. “It is difficult to find the words to explain the situation.”

The King of Rohan crossed his arms and gave the boy a warning look. His patience was wearing thin. Éomer disliked being kept in the dark, especially regarding affairs that took place under his very roof.

Wilhelm cleared his throat before speaking. His voice remained steady, even as his heart threatened to burst from his chest.

“Lossendir has been in charge of the majority of my training since I began the program,” Wilhelm explained. “On sid side, he has also been teaching me basic Sindarin to help me communicate better with Echuir. We have been spending a great deal of time together and our friendship has grown rapidly.” Here the boy paused and looked at the King with an expression akin to fear in his eyes.

“Go on,” Éomer prodded.

Wilhelm’s throat had become very dry. “Well,” he stammered, “just recently this friendship has…uh …exceeded the boundaries …of…uh …” the squire searched for the right phrase to soothe the blow of his confession, “what would be considered appropriate behavior,” he said at last.

“I see,” Éomer said heavily. And he did see. In fact, the Man hader ser seen so clearly in his life.

“My Lord,” Wilhelm quickly interrupted, recovering his wits somewhat, “I am more to blame for this situation than Lossendir. It is I who showed an interest and pursued him. It is I who made the first move. Though I make no excuses for his own behavior, I wish to make it clear that…” he trailed off. What was he trying to say? That this wasn’t a youthful infatuation? That he was afraid that he was falling in love? That he would do anything for the Elven Captain at this point?

“I have heard enough,” Éomer stated.

“No, my Lord!” Wilhelm cried. “I will gladly take any punishment that you see fit, but Lossendir…”

“Shall also have to answer for his actions,” the Rohan King finished off.

The boy’s face fell. They were in dire trouble.

But then the King approached the lad and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You must end this,” he said seriously. “It should never have begun. Learn from this experience, Wilhelm, as bitter as it may be.” Éomer paused and looked thoughtfully at the young man, wondering if he should continue. “In the future,” he said after a while, “if your predilections remain as they are, you must show greater discretion in your affairs.”

Wilhelm looked at his King in wonder, trying to comprehend these words of advice. But before he could respond, Éomer dropped his hand from the boy’s shoulder and his face grew stern.

“Do not mistake my words,” aid.aid. “You will be punished for your actions, but I am yet to determine the gravity of your punishment. I must confer with King Legolas first. Go now. Act as though nothing has happened, but make sure you stay away from the Elven Captain.”

tbc…