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Celebration	By : jennnlee Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > Het - Male/Female Views: 3529 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings book series and movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Celebration
- 1
“Celebration” by Jennifer Lee

Standard LOTR-style disclaimers apply. 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.
“Our tryst.” His jaw was set firmly, but his eyes
softened as he looked down at her, his gaze sweeping across her face. “That was not how I thought of it,” he said
quietly.
They sighed together
as their bodies joined, their nev never leaving one another’s. 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. 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?” 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. He smiled and touched her cheek. “I have quarters here at the keep. 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. 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.”
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Celebration

“Celebration” by Jennifer Lee