The water was warm and deep. Eowyn watched him add a few handfuls of scented leaves.

“Iârloth,” he said, smiling, “to restore you.”

“Restore me?”

“You have had a very strenuous time, melmenya.”

Eowyn laughed. “That is the truth!” She pulled at the sash of her robe, unravelling the bow, and let the fabric fall open.

“Oh, melmenya...” He slipped his hand inside the silk and slowly brushed his fingers over her waist and upwards, stroking his way to her breast; then, holding her in his hand, he kissed her, gently sucking her nipple into his mouth.

“Ahhh...” Eowyn wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer. He shifted in her embrace, kissing the silky cleft between her breasts.

Eowyn’s body was on fire; she could feel his hardness pressing into her belly and she rubbed herself against it.

“Mmmmm,” he raised his head. “Let us get into the water, melmenya, before this goes too far.” He slid the robe from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. “Valar,” he whispered, “you are like blossom on a spring morning.” He held her hand and steadied her as she stepped into the bath and sat down.

Then Eowyn watched him climb in beside her, admiring his long, muscular legs, his slender hips, his taut belly, and the unexpected bulk of his erection. Gods, he is big, she thought; and, remembering the feel of him inside her, she squeezed her muscles tight, and stretched out her hand to stroke him.

“Melmenya!” he cried, startled by her touch.

She pulled her hand away. “I am sorry...”

Legolas laughed. “You are a wanton woman, Eowyn nín,” he said, taking her in his arms and kissing the offending fingers. “A wonderful, beautiful, wanton woman, and I bless the Valar for giving you to me.” He nuzzled her neck. “Will you do something for me, melmenya? Something very intimate?”

“Of course. Anything,” she whispered.

“Will you wash my hair?”