Title: Healing
Author: Erandir
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Haldir/Eomer
Disclaimer: See previous five chapters. If you don't get it by now you probably never will.

Haldir fumed for the entire rest of the day, and the next day. In his completely unbiased opinion he was being treated as an invalid, a child, and it was insulting. True, he could hardly walk, but who was to say he couldn't ride? Though, as the day progressed he was forced to admit (to himself only) that perhaps Legolas had been right. The longer he stayed on horseback, the more his back ached, and the more he leaned against Eomer.

He was seated behind the Marshal, with his arms wrapped around the Man's waist. He knew well that Eomer was in nearly as much pain as he was, and used that knowledge as an excuse to tighten his hold around the man's waist, and rest his forehead against the man's shoulder. Of course, only Haldir knew that it was only an excuse.

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"So it's a drinking game?" Legolas asked for clarification, and was answered by a small cheer from the surrounding Rohirrim. "And what, exactly, is the point?"

"Last one standing wins!"

Legolas glanced across the table to where Haldir stood, but his fellow Elf only gave him a small, smug smile. The prince rolled his eyes in exasperation, and raised the first mug of ale to his lips.

It was only about an hour, though many mugs of ale, later, and the game was nearly over. Gimli, Legolas' competition, was muttering something about hairy women that made most of the onlookers cringe, but the Elf was as sober as ever. Then, with one final comment about Legolas not being able to hold his liquor, the Dwarf fell to the floor, unconscious.

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"Remind me why you challenged Legolas even after he drank Gimli under the table?" Eomer did not answer as he stumbled after Haldir. The Elf was all but dragging him out of the Meduseld and toward his room. Haldir sighed and shook his head, "Foolish Human. We will both regret this in the morning."

"You're pretty."

Haldir stopped dead in front of the man's door and looked down at him, "What?" He asked in disbelief.

"You're pretty," Eomer repeated, the words slurred in his inebriated state.

The Elf blushed, no one had ever said that to him before. Among his own kin Haldir was not exceptionally fair, and even among the Rohirrim he was always being compared to Legolas, who was far more beautiful than he. But maybe, he supposed, in the eyes of a Human he could be considered 'pretty'. Especially in the eyes of a drunk Human.

Then suddenly Eomer lurched forward, making a sound Haldir could only describe as gagging. It took a while for the action and sound to click in the Marchwarden's mind, but when they did his eyes widened. "Do not dare..." He warned, quickly reaching for the doorknob, his hand's suddenly clumsy in his haste. Eomer gagged again, and raised a hand to cover his mouth as Haldir managed to throw the door open and drag the Man toward the attached bathing chamber. They just barely made it, and Eomer hunched over the sink, emptying the contents of his stomach.

With a disgusted sigh Haldir pulled the Rohirrim's hair out of his face. Great. This night was shaping out to be just wonderful. Eventually there was nothing left in Eomer's stomach to expel and he slumped down on the floor, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. Haldir swatted his hand away and hauled the man to his feet again, half-dragging the stumbling Marshal back into his room and toward the bed. His back was beginning to ache in protest, it was not ready to support something of Eomer's weight yet, and the Elf just hoped he would not regret this in the morning.

When they reached the side of the bed, Haldir released the Man, but Eomer did not release him. Eomer flopped down onto the mattress, and with a surprised yelp Haldir was pulled down with him. The man landed flat on his back, his arms wrapped securely around Haldir and effectively pinning the Elf to his chest. The Marchwarden struggled against the embrace, but this only caused Eomer to tighten his grip, so he stopped. 

"Eomer..." no response. "Eomer let go." Still no response. Haldir looked up at the man's face, and found him sound asleep. He sighed in exasperation and once more tried to squirm is way out of the Marshal's grasp, but to no avail. Eomer was stronger than he was on a good day, and Haldir's back was screaming in protest. With another soft sigh he resigned himself to his fate, and settled against the man's chest for the night.

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The next morning Eomer woke with a loud groan. He deeply regretted his drinking escapade the night before. He had been foolish to drink so much, and had the pounding headache to prove it. Raising a hand to grasp his aching head he was surprised to find it contact with something else first. Slowly opening his eyes the man looked down, squinting in the bright light of morning, at the Elf settled against his chest. "Haldir?"

Said Elf looked up almost instantly as his name was murmured and smiled boredly. "Oh, good morning."

Eomer groaned in response, though he looked confused. "How did you get in my bed?"

"You dragged me here, I did not have much of a choice."

"Oh..." The Rohirrim paused for a moment, "Did we...?"

"We are both still fully clothed," Haldir stated blandly.

"Oh."

The two lay in silence for a while, and then Haldir sighed, "Could you let me go?"

Eomer did so almost instantly, a sudden blush covering his cheeks, "Oh, sorry." The Elf sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and fixing his clothes and hair. "How much did I drink last night."

"Too much."

"The last thing I remember is drinking with Legolas."

"I had to drag you back here," Haldir supplied, "Then you threw up in the sink, and pulled me into bed with you. Do not worry, I will not tell anyone." At this point he stood and began to adjust the braids in his hair, muttering something about foolish humans.

"Thank you."

Haldir looked over at his shoulder at the man, who was now sitting up, and smiled, "Someone had to take care of you," he said, and then turned away again, "I am just glad that our bond wore off enough that I did not get drunk along with you."

Eomer opened his mouth to say something, and then shut it abruptly as he realized the meaning behind the Elf's words. Had Haldir just admitted that he cared for him? Did that mean that the Marchwarden had feelings for him? Suddenly Eomer found himself slightly sad that their bond had worn off as much as it had. "Did I... Did I do anything else I should know about?" He asked, subconsciously hoping for... He did not know what.

Haldir stopped in the middle of retying one braid and was silent for a while. "You said I was pretty," he admitted softly.

That was exactly what Eomer had been hoping for.

"You are pretty," He said quickly, "More than pretty. Beautiful even."

Haldir laughed at that, "I fear there may be something wrong with your eyes, foolish human. If you think I am beautiful you have obviously never cared to look at Legolas."

"I have though," Eomer protested, "And I think that you are just as beautiful as he, if not more so."

The Elf stopped and looked back over his shoulder, an unidentifiable emotion on his face, "How can you say such things?"

"They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder."

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TBC...