“Celebration” by Jennifer Lee

Standard LOTR-style disclaimers apply.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> This is a movieverse fic from The Two
Towers.

It had been a very
long night, waiting to die.  o:p>

The caves were cold,
despite the heat generated by hundreds of bodies huddled together in
fear.  She had no one to huddle with, of course, and so she wrapped her
cloak moroselosely around herself and curled up in a corner, listening to the
faint sounds of battle outside.  They were far from the actual fighting,
but here and there came the sounds of steel crashing against steel, the screams
of the dying, and the inhuman roars of the orcs.  Within the caves, the
children and the elderly wept, while the women did their best to starongrong
until the end.  But she simply waited to die.

She thought death
would come when the roars suddenly sounded louder, closer.  "They've
breached the walls," someone breathed, the voice impossibly loud as it
bounced off the rocks.  The rest of the people fell silent.  The
impossible had happened; Helm's Deep had been breached.  They were
losing.  The orcs were coming, and would not stop until they had all been
slaughtered.  Instead of returning to weeping and despair, everyone, it
seemed, stayed quiet.  Their eyes fixed on the rock ceiling of their
refuge they waited, as she had all night, to die.

Minute by minute the
voices from outside grew louder and louder.  The sound bat battle came
closer and closer, until it felt as though the fighting happened directly above
their heads.  Especially loud crashes from above sent dust floating gently
down onto their heads, and they winced from the infinitesimal impact as though
it was a hard blow.  She curled up tighter, covering her head with her
arms.  It would not be long now.

But sometime, as
night became morning, the cries from above changed.  Shrieks of pain
became shouts of victory, and the stomping of orc feet became the familiar,
comforting thud of horse hooves.  Slowly, the people began to look at one
another, scarcely daring to hope.  But as time passed, and the first Rohan
soldier entered the caverns, they knew it for certain.  They had won.

The people
left the caves, slowly at first, then more quickly as they sought out
loved ones who had fought above.  The entrance to the caves quickly became
clogged as impromptu reunions occurred in haphazard places.  She did not
plunge into the crowd, or hurry to the entrance.  She had no one to look
for, no one to embrace.

Then she saw the
Rider.

His helm gleamed in
the torchlight, and the sight of it stole her breath.  The Riders had
returned!  They had not been there when the battle had started, and so she
had despaired of them arriving in time, but apparently they had.  Joy
welled up in her breast, and for the first time she allowed hope to bloom there
too.  Her eyes now focused on the entrance to the caves, she moved
forward, gently moving aside those in her path with light touches on the arm or
shoulder.

Closer to the front
now, she saw Eowyn, and a curious nervousness gripped her.  She could ask
Eowyn, perhaps.  The king's niece would certainly know if her brother had
returned from exile with the other Riders, would she not?  Eowyn would
know if Eomer still stood, or if he had fallen in the battle that had claimed
so many.

But her feet,
knowing better than her heart, halted her steps.  For one, Eowyn was
engaged at present, all of her attention focused on the Ranger, the man who had
come with the dwarf, the elf, and the wizard to fight alongside Rohan. 
She did not wish to interrupt such a moment.  And for another, she was
nobody.  She had no real claim on Eomer, and was not of any standing or
nobility.  To approach the niece of the King at a time like this, indeed
at any time, would be foolishness in the extreme.

She was thus lost in
her thoughts, and did not notice when the hand took hold of her arm.  She
had actually been propelled a few steps backward before she even realized that
she was moving.  She looked to the ground, to her feet, in confusion at
first, wondering why she was walking backward, away from the entrance and those
who crowded it.  Then the hand shifted its grip, steering her to an
alcove, well-shadowed and away from the others. 

Her back touched the
hard stone wall, and that was enough of a jolt to make her raise her head at
last.  With many of the torches gone, the caverns themselves had become
dim again, almost dank. The alcove she
now occupied was darker still, shadowed by the large form of the man who still
held her arm.  But shafts of light shone through, illuminating strands of
his brown-ghairhair that lay across his shoulders.  He had taken off his
helm, and his outer armor, and faced her now in the mail and leather he wore
underneath. She felt her breath leave
her in a rush as she stared up at his face.
Her hand drifted up, almost of its own accord, to touch a lock of that
hair.  She wondered if she was in a dream, for inth sth she had never
expected to see him again.

For Eomer’s part, he
was looking at her in much the same way.  He reached up, barely grazing
her cheek with his fingertips.  "How long did you wait," he
asked, his voice a low, hushed rumble, "before you realized I was not
co tha that day?"

She looked at him,
incredulous.  "Do you think so little of me?"  The spell
broken, she backed away from him as much as she could.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> The stone against her back halted any real
progress, so she had to settle for folding her arms defiantly on her
chest.  "You rode through the gates, carrying your cousin, who was
near death.  Then he passed in the night, and you were banished; I saw you
ride away with the men who are loyal to you."  She shook her
head.  "Do you think that I expected you to remember our tryst in the
midst of all else?"

“Our tryst.”style="mso-spacerun: yes"> His jaw was set firmly, but his eyes
softened as he looked down at her, his gaze sweeping across her face.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> “That was not how I thought of it,” he said
quietly.

“You should,” she
snapped back quickly, her harsh tone covering the ache in her heart.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> She had waited, of course.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> The candles had burned down to nothing, and
dawn had streaked the horizon before she had truly realized that Eomer was not
coming, that Theodred’s wounds had been as grave as they had looked.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> And she had felt nearly as much a fool as
she did now. She huffed up at him.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> “You should,” she said again.style="mso-spacerun: ye But now she let a small smile come to her
face. “We have had time for naught
else.”

A small smile of
regret lit his face in answer to hers, and he let both hands come up to trace
her jawline. She let herself lean into
the caress, the touch she had spent many nights hungering for.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> His hands were warm, his fingers calloused
from swordplay, and their roughness teased her skin and sent a shiver up her
back. His head dipped closer, and she
found herself rising to her toes, meeting his kiss halfway…

No sooner had their
lips touched than a roaring cry from outside the caves startled them
apart. She gasped, leaning around him
to peer fearfully in the direction of the sound. Eomer, however, seemed less alarmed; he only glanced once over
his shoulder before returning his attention to the woman in front of him.

“The Riders,” he
said softly, dropping his hands to slide down her upper arms in a soothing
motion. “The men celebrate their
victory.”

She nodded and bit
her lower lip, shoving down her disappointment. She could not let him see.
“Of course,” she said, once she could trust her own voice.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> “You should go to them.”

But instead of
releasing her and bowing away with kingly grace, he shook his head and shifted
a half-step closer to her. “I think
not.” His hand still moved up and down
her arms, the touch less soothing and more impassioned.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Long fingers gently kneaded the muscles of
her upper arms, large hands radiated warmth.

“No?”style="mso-spacerun: yes"> As she asked the question, she risked
another look up at his face, and caught heeatheath at what she saw there.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> His eyes were dark, deep fathomless pools
that arrested her. Her heart stilled in
her throat, then resumed its beating double-time; blood raced through her
veins, and she felt warmer than she ever had in her life as he moved even closer,
reducing the distance between them to almost nothing.

“No,” he repeated,
his voice a harsh whisper. His hands
moved to her back, caressing up in broad sweeps before separating.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> One hand moved up to the back of her neck,
gripping lightly, entangling in her hair, while the other slid down, anchoring
at the small of her back. Held captive
thus, she could do nothing but stare, still entranced by his passionate
eyes. “All the celebration I want is
here before me.” His words made her
knees buckle, but thankfully his grasp on her was strong, keeping her upright.

This time when his
mouth took hers, there was no hesitation, and nothing could have drawn them
apart. She came alive under his kiss,
having dreamt of it for so long, that all her senses were heightened, and she
found herself not merely submitting, but engaging. His tongue plundered her mouth, and she pressed back, accepting,
yielding, but also tasting, taking. Her
hands were sure as they reached up to steady his head over hers, her own fingers
threaded through his hair, and he responded by pressing her closer, his arms
locking around her like iron.

A strange duality
swept through her. She was woman, soft
and weak, her curves almost sagging against his hard strength, letting his arms
support her. Yet she was impatient,
wanting more of him, eager to take as well as be taken.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> pressing closer, while her hands moved restlessly, combing through his hair,
her arms wrapping around his powerful shoulders. She pulled, his arms tightened, and she only realized that her
feet had left the floor when her thighs had found purchase around his
hips. He rocked backward slightly, balancing
her weight easily, dropping a hand down to her calf to help her wrap her legs
around him. Her weight settled on him,
and she realized with a shock of sensation that she could feel him, aroused and
hot, even through the cloth and leather that separated their bodies.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> She shuddered at the contact and gripped his
shoulders harder.

After what seemed like eternity, they broke their kiss.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Held aloft in his arms, she could look
straight at him instead of up, and he pressed his forehead to hers.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> She watched his face as his eyes dropped
closed, and he fought to control his breath.
She shook her head a little; she didn’t want control.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> After facing death for a night and a day,
she wanted nothing that resembled control, and when his eyes opened to show her
that the intensity had not faded, she knew that he did not want control,
eitherpan pan style="mso-spacerun: yes"> His head bent to her neck,
lips, tongue and teeth tasting and teasing, and she let her head fall back with
a cry. Her arms tightened around his
shoulders, and she tightened her thighs on his hips, rocking herself against
him. It was his turn to shudder, and he
moved forward with her in his arms, pressing her to the rock wall at her
back. The rock was hard, and a jutting
stone met that spot between her shoulder blades, causing her to cry out in
surprised pain. She followed that cry
with one that was more passionate, hoping he had not heard.

But he had.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> His head lifted, passion-glazed eyes took in
her position and he drew back. She
nearly wailed in disappointment as he unclasped her legs, releasing her.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> But her despair was short-lived; no sooner
had her feet touched the groundn hen he lowered himself before her, kneeling in
front of her, taking her hands and drawing her down. Then he pulled again, stretching out to recline, his back on the
cold stone floor, tugging her across his body like a blanket. style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Her heart swelled as he gazed up at her.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> In this uncomfortable, unforgiving place, he
would be her bed.

He still held onto
her hands, and his fingers threaded through hers and she bent over him.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> He sucked in a breath as her lips touched
his throat, and when her tongue peeked out to taste the salt of him, he let
that breath out in a gasp. Emboldened,
she continued her exploration, kissing her way down heated skin to the place
where his neck joined his shoulder. She
let her teeth sink down in an experimental, teasing bite, and he surged beneath
her, dropping her hands with a cry. She
took advantage of his momentary weakness, letting her hands stroke the planes
of his face, facial hair tickling her palms.
She traced his eyebrows with her fingertips, laid fairy kisses on his
closed eyelids. But these light strokes
did not soothe him; his hands dropped to her hips now, moving with a
purpose. She felt her skirts dragging
up her legs, baring them slowly, till they were bunched around her thighs and
his large, warm hands slid underneath.
It was her turn to gasp as those same calloused fingertips circled
slowly up the smooth skin of her inner thighs, and she shuddered as they
reached their goal, teasing lightly over the hair between her legs.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Her hands braced on the ground, she raised
herself up and forward, helping him, allowing him access to her.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> He did not waste the opportunity; algh
gh
his touch was slow, it was sure. The fingertips
of one hand stroked up her cleft, slowly back down, then up again, dipping in
to hook around the sensitive flesh that hid there. The tip of one finger teased the hardened flesh, and she did not
bother to hide her cry. A few more
teasing touches, and that same maddening fingertip stroked away and down,
sliding unerringly between her folds of flesh and into her heat.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Her breath shuddered out of her, and she
opened her eyes to see Eomer looking up at her, watching her pleasure.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> She was trapped; imprisoned again in those
eyes, and she could not look away even if she had wanted to.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Instead she drew in a shaking breath and
pressed herself down, drawing his finger deeper into herself, rocking herself
shamelessly on his hand.

His eyes darkened
even more and he gasped, even as his finger swirled inside her, and suddenly it
was withdrawn. She felt his hands
beneath her, clothing rustling, moving.
Then his hand was once more between her legs, spreading her wide, and
she felt him, hard and hot, probing up, seeking entrance.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> She shifted her hips, settling over him,
taking him inside.

They sighed together
as their bodies joined, their nev never leaving one another’s.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> For a few heartbeats they were motionless,
enjoying merely the sensation of having become one, but then she rocked on him
and they were lost. His hands clutched
at the backs of her thighs, fingers digging in for purchase as he thrust up
into her. She cried out at his assault
and rocked back, her hips counter-thrusting, her body tightening, drawing him
in deeply. Her arms shook from holding
herself up, but with her body given over to passion she could do nothing
else. But then his fingers moved, one
hand sliding up her thigh to where their bodies joined.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Without stopping the movement of his hips
beneath hers, his fingertips teased her again, spreading her open, skimming
along her slick flesh. Her gasps became
moans under this added touch, and while he thrust and stroked, she drove
herself onto him harder, her passion finally breaking with a series of
breathless, shuddering cries. The
spasms of her body affected his, and it was not long before his back arched in
a final thrust, pouring himself into her with a long, low moan.

It was many moments
before they returned to themselves.
Eomer pulled her into his arms, pillowing her head on his shoulder and
closing his arms around her. His hands
stroked through her tumbled hair, and despite the chain mail and the stone
floor, she found herself drowsing.

“This was not what I
had intended,” Eomer finally said. She
felt his voice as a vibration from where her ear pressed against her shoulder.

“It was not?”style="mso-spacerun: yes"> A sliver of a chill sliced through her, but
she willed her breath to stay steady.

“No,” he
replied. She felt him shift a little
under her, and she moved, lifting her head to look down at him.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> He smiled and touched her cheek.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> “I have quarters here at the keep.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> I had come here to the caves to find you,
and create the night we had lost.” He
chuckled then, a little ruefully, and she found herself smiling to hear
it. “I am the king’s nephew, a leader
of men, and I do not have enough control to unhand you long enough to take you
to a place of true privacy.”

She shook her head,
turning to lay a gentle kiss in his palm.
Her heart soared at his promise of a night spent in his arms.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> It was more than, a day before, she would
have dared to dream of. “That matters
not,” she said, her smile turning to a sly grin. “We simply began the celebration early.”

He laughed then, the
sound a welcome one after so much horror and fear. “Well, then,” he said, taking her hands and helping her to her
feet. He adjusted his clothing, she
shook out her skirts, and he extended a hand.
“Let me convey you now to more comfortable quarters, and we may continue
our celebration.”