Part 19

When Thorkell bogsveigir did not return with Melannen after half an hour as ordered, Legolas and Eowyn went to look for them.

They found the Beorning in the public gardens, leaning against the flet wall (arms folded across his chest as usual), watching the child build a snow-castle with two elflings and a tiny dwarf. “It seemed a shame,” he said, “to drag the boy away.”

Eowyn came up on tip-toe, and kissed his cold cheek. “Thank you, Uncle Thorkell.”

“Can I go back into the warmth now?”

…

Whilst the trio sat before a cheery fire, eating a supper of cheese tart and roasted vegetables, the servants cleared out the cloakroom—which Eowyn had decided would make the perfect bedchamber for Melannen, because it was snug and warm, with its own lavatory and washbasin, and a little bay window with a view of the city—then brought in a bed, two chairs, and a chest of drawers.

Miriel, meanwhile, found the boy a nightshirt, slippers, and a little dressing robe and, for the morning, a clean tunic and some leggings.

Then Eowyn bathed the boy, and put him to bed, and she and his Gwanur Legolas sat with him, telling him stories, until he fell into reverie.

…

Legolas sat in bed, watching Eowyn, at the dressing table, brushing her hair. “Melmenya…”

“Mmmm?”

“That is a beautiful smile.”

“You are going to warn me of the dangers of growing too fond of him.”

“If you think that I need to.”

Eowyn laid down her hairbrush and turned to the elf. “I do not love him as I love Meldon, Lassui,” she said, smiling at the memory of her double’s child, “truly, I do not. But I am very, very fond of him; and it is wonderful to be able to—to have the chance to spend this time with him.”

“Come here, melmenya.” Legolas held out his arms. “I will love you,” he whispered, kissing her tenderly, “until the End of Days and, however it may happen,”—his hand moved lightly, stroking, through the sheer silk of her nightgown, her gently curving belly—“we will have a child one day, I promise. The Valar have promised.”

…

He was so beautiful in the pale moonlight, so slender, yet so well-muscled, and he smelled so fertile, like a Forest in the rain, that Eowyn wanted more than their usual lovemaking—she desperately wanted his child.

“Now, Lassui,” she whispered. “Please let it be now.”

And she felt his weight settle upon her, and his hard thigh gently nudge her legs apart, and his warm, thick penis press into her aching body, and—though the healer had told her that it was hopeless—she could not stop herself hoping, and—

“Oh!” she cried.

Oh, dear gods, please!