§ In a hole in the ground their lived a Oneshot§ My LOTR/The Hobbit oneshots.

°Èomer x reader {Don't Touch...}

The small crowd begins to disperce, befire you call to the remaining training Rohiram for another match.

None seam elated at the prospect, though one calls out a "I'll show you my sword, just name the time."

This of course gains a hearty laugh from his friends, and, to Èomer's shock, a smile from you. Though is does have a-

"I do belive it is more or a dagger, and would shatter dear Êliott."

-malicouse look. His thoughts finish, as the smirk on his face grows, whilst the red shade of the man increases.

Before the debate can escalate, Èomer steps forward. "I will spar with you, Lady Y/n."

The sharp nod is all he needs to begin shedding the outer wearof his cloth, leaving himself in a (rather thin) tunic. One of Êlott's friends gives an apriciative whistle, and Èomer hopes he isn't imagining the flustered manner, and aversion of eyes from yourself.

Taking the ready stance the two of you make eye contact, just before you begin weaving patterns through the air with your swords. You vaguely take note of the numbers being called around you, bets to be won or lost, all depending on the outcome of two people... A power play that has you grinning.

Èomer twists his swords arm, causing your grip to loosen slightly. The scowl you send him only causing a smile to grace his distractingly handsome- wait no.

No no no.

That is not the direction you thoughts need to go.

Although he is one of the most sought after man in Rohan, and the gosip around the pubs could fill three rowdy drinking songs.

A loud yell comes from the, now much larger, circle of people, and you jerk at the close proximity, giving Èomer the chance to semd you sword to the ground. On instinct, you reach for the weapon while it is still in the air, successfuly catching it, but sending yourself to the ground.

Imeadiatly Èomer offers you a hand up, and as there are far to many people watching to deny the prince, you accept; but jerk back as soon as you stand.

Offering Èomer a bow, you gather your gear and exit the courtyard, leaving a befuddled blond in your wake, staring after you with an expression later to be described with some rather unsavoury words.

3.

He watches from the corner of his eye, as he always does, as you take another swig of your drink at the bar.

A group of the Rohiram had decided to stick around the pub in the closest town during patrol, and as his sense of honour dictated, he stayed with them. All around the crowded room people were being spun around by their partners.

Except for you, your rarely danced, and as far as Èomer has seen, never accepted such wanton attention as what the man leaning altogether to close to you is obviously offering.

Still Èomer waits a few minutes, knowing all to well from a preper veiw of a particular captain (the poor man never did have children...) how well you can handle the situation.

Yet he can tell that you are tired and wish bot to make a scene, so swiftly navigating the dance floor he arives at you side amd places a comforting, and slightly territorial, hand on your back.