My dream awakened me again last night. I sat up in the bed, shivering from the cold sweat beading my body. My cock was aching and hard and the tip glistened with my essence. Your name was on my lips as my eyes flew open in the darkness. The dream occurs more and more frequently of late. In part, I suppose the dream comes because I am back at Edoras. This bed is so large and I have yet to accustom myself to it. This is not my room. This is not my furniture. I have usurped this throne.
Outside the winter wind howled and a shutter banged in the distance. I pulled the sleeping furs up over my chin and willed my body to relax. The only thing to dare disobey the king is the king’s own manhood. I smiled grimly in the darkness.
I want to touch myself, relieve the incessant ache in my body. Nay. I do not want to pleasure myself. I want you to pleasure me, as you used to. But you can’t. Never again will I taste your sweet kisses or your heated flesh.
Your father betrayed you. And now you are no more. I held your body one last time, after returning you to the city you loved so well, and dreamed of the times you’d lain in my arms. They came and pried your lifeless body from my grasp and I tried not to curse them for their lack of care. They bore no fault for they did not know that they took from me the only thing that I loved when they took you inside Meduseld.
On the way home, with your dying body in my arms, all I could remember was our time together. My mind raced over the short spring evening, the air cool on our bodies, as we lay among the tall grasses. Nearby our horses grazed, lost in their own simple pleasures as we were lost in ours.
We were riding the farthest reaches of your father's borders, searching for the enemy we knew was there. Our horses churned up the new spring grasses as their hooves pounded over the earth, keeping time, it seemed to the beating of my heart. You the Second Marshall of the Mark and I, the Third, had duties that kept us on the open plains and yet so very far apart.
You, my prince, had sent the men off on other pursuits, claiming we needed no mothers to hold our hands. I raised my eyebrows at that, but said nothing. Who was I to gainsay a Prince? Besides, I wanted you to myself, even as my brother and future king. I never thought beyond serving you. Beyond being your Marshall. I ached to be more. Those things, those thoughts, were forbidden and would have shocked the King beyond measure had he known them. I kept that secret close, locked deep within my heart where none could find it. Meanwhile, I said nothing and did nothing to cast suspicion. No hint, no whisper would I give lest I be sent forever away.
Some miles away from our kin and warriors, you pulled your snorting horse to a halt and settled more comfortably in your saddle. The cool spring breeze brought you scent to my nostrils. I could smell horse and leather and you. As I sat beside you on my horse, I tried not breath so deeply. I did not want you to see. I was ashamed of what I felt; of the thoughts flowing through my mind.
You turned to me with your dark eyes alight with something I dare not consider and my heart constricted in my chest. "Let us walk for a while, Eomer."
I climbed from my saddle, wondering what you had in mind. I suppose, looking back, I only had thoughts of your father, Theoden and his ill-suited advisor, Grima Wormtongue. I knew how your father's reliance on that vile creature assailed your mind. We all feared for Theoden, in those days, before the final war. I did not know to fear for you.
"May I speak frankly, cousin?"
I nodded carefully, eyeing you, gauging your mood—trying to read your thoughts. "We have always been frank with one another, Theodred."
You took a deep breath and I was mesmerized as your hand crept forward towards my face. Your gloved fingers brushed the horsehair plumes of my helm from my eyes. I watched in consternation as your hand drifted so close to my face. Perhaps I scowled for you removed your hand rather abruptly and I was sorry that it was gone.
We left our horses to wander as they would, unsafe as that act was, and wandered along the plain until we came to an outcropping of large boulders. Clearly you were troubled, for I could see the frown in your eyes. As you sat on a giant bit of granite, I stood before you and waited.
Several times you opened your mouth to speak and then closed it again. Shutting whatever you desired to say behind your teeth. I shifted, uncomfortably warm in my leather armor, and tried to think of something besides how beautiful you looked.
"Your silence unnerves me," you managed at last.
Puzzled, I could only stare at you for a moment in dismay. At last, I too, spoke. "You asked to speak with me, Theodred. I can clearly see you have some trouble you wish to discuss yet you remain reluctant to speak your mind."
Your eyes met mine with a silent plea and I felt a wrenching deep inside me. In a place I knew not existed. "Can you not guess?"
No. Yes. Please. My thoughts swirled like water on rapids. "I would not presume, Theodred."
I watched as your lips tightened with anger. Perhaps, too, there was frustration on your face as you rose impatiently from the rock. You walked into the circle of the stones and vanished from my sight. The rocks were large and in their center was another world, hidden from all. Curiously I followed.
"Theodred?"
Your helm was off by then, lying at your feet, the plumes fanned out among the shadows. I could see the rise and fall of your chest beneath your armor. I wanted to place my hand there, in the center, over your heart. I wanted to feel your heartbeat against my palm.
I waited. I did not know what to say to you, nor did I trust myself to speak. My thoughts were in turmoil. I wanted so much to hold you and soothe that frown from between your lovely eyes. I clenched my fists to insure they remained at my sides.
Lush lips were slicked with a pink tongue and I unconsciously mirrored the action. I realized, then, that your eyes were focused on my mouth and my stomach clenched. That wasn't all that clenched and I was thankful that my armor concealed me from your eyes.
"We have been friends for a long time." You blushed at your inane beginning. "What I mean to say is that you and I are closer than friends, for we are bound by blood."
A little part of me died then. We were cousins, you and I, and aside my lust for you being wrong in the eyes of many men, we were blood and thus what I felt doubly damned. Did you know? Had I given myself away? Was this the cause of your tension and embarrassment?
Unable to stand the strain any longer, I growled at you. "Speak what is on your mind, Theodred, I grow weary of this game."
Startled you stepped away, muttering under your breath. To me, it sounded as though you said the whole plan was a mistake.
"Have you ever thought of me, Eomer, as something other than a friend?"
I held my breath. Nay, I did not hold my breath, I could not catch my breath. "Yes." The words came out in a hiss.
Your head tilted slightly. Your eyes were round and seemed to absorb the light. "I do not want to ever lose your friendship, Eomer, but there is something I must say to you. I have loved you for a long time."
The tension that held me upright, kept me immobile, seamed by body together, vanished. I sank back and felt the rough stone against my back. My body shook from relief and an emotion I was not yet prepared to name or share.
"Eomer? I beseech you, say something." Your expression was comical in its anguish. You looked as though you'd lost your best friend. Mayhaps you thought you had?
Laughter bubbled from my chest. I clung to the rock for support and laughed loudly until I could not breath.
Red splotches appeared on your cheek and your eyes grew stormy. You bent and retrieved your helmet.
"Theodred, wait," I gasped.
"Nay, Eomer, I should never have spoken my heart. I knew it was a mistake. Pray forgive me."
Quickly realizing that I'd hurt your feelings, I reached out and took your arm. "Theodred, nay, tis I who must ask your forgiveness. You opened your heart to me and I laughed at you for your pains. Please, hear me now?"
Your shoulders were stiff and your back rigid. You refused to turn around, forcing me to speak to your back.
"I was surprised by your admission. I feared that I had said or done something that had given away my own feelings for you. I feared you were going to ask me to step down as Marshal. I was afraid you would send me away from you."
I could see your profile as your head turned ever so slightly. Listening, I suppose? Were you listening to hear any fallacy? A hint of deception?
"You are not offended by my confession?"
I placed my hand on your shoulder and felt you tremble. My palm itched to feel your warm skin. Turning around, you faced me and stared deeply in to my eyes. My hand moved to cup your face, feeling your beard scratching my palm. Tilting your head again, you pressed closer to my hand and I stroked my thumb over your cheek. Cautiously your hands came up to my face and you ran your hand over my beard. Your thumb stroked my lower lip and my mouth opened as I breathed deeply of your scent and the spring air.
Your thumb pushed into my mouth and I sucked on it. I could taste leather and horse and you. I leaned forward and your thumb withdrew as I captured your lips with my own. Our first kiss was slow, hesitant, and uncertain. We drew apart and stared so long in to each other's eyes that I lost track of time and space. My hand slipped around to the back of your neck and pulled you closer, locking our lips together again. I wanted to taste you, savor your sweetness and heat. Leather creaked and metal ground together as our bodies melded.
Tongue met tongue in an ancient, ritual dance of give and take. Teeth clashed together and bruised lips. My hands shook as I scrambled for the buckles of your armor. I needed to feel you. My helmet joined yours and your fingers entwined in my hair. I sucked your bottom lip until you moaned in to my mouth. I could not resist a chuckle.
Long had I dreamed of that moment. I had never believed that I would live to see it. Yet, here we were, hiding from our troops in a ring of granite boulders, kissing each other passionately. Dragging my lips from yours, I laid my forehead against yours for a moment and caught my breath. Taking your head in my hands, I tilted it back until your throat was exposed. I nibbled and sucked along your jaw, grazing your beard with my teeth. Your breath rasped in my ear and it tickled.
"I would share more than kisses, Eomer," you whispered and I was undone.
Frantically, we began removing each other's armor. Until that moment, I had no idea that leather armor was so complicated. Having worn it most of my life, I never noticed all the straps and buckles. Neither did you, I'd wager. Never has it taken so long to divest of my armor.
A pile of armor, yours and mine, lay jumbled on the grass and we stood only in our tunic and leggings. Lifting your hand to my lips, I kissed each fingertip before swirling my tongue around your palm. I moved to your wrist and bit. Your hand jerked but you did not withdraw it.
One hand slipped around my waist, holding me close, as I kissed my way up your arm to your shoulder. You rolled your head aside, giving me access to the soft flesh between collar bone and jaw. I scored your throat, leaving behind a trail of small red welts that marked you as my own.
Pulling open your tunic, I kissed a trail over your heart, burying my nose against the soft curls on your chest. I laved each nipple, delighting in the way they drew tight beneath my tongue. Kneeling before you, I pressed my face against the flat planes of your stomach and felt them clench. Your hands dug into my shoulder, gripping me with all your formidable strength.
My chin brushed your manhood beneath the cloth as I kissed and nibbled. I held your hips between my hands, forcing your body to still beneath my ministrations. At last your knees gave and you would have fallen atop me had I not held you up. Nonetheless my arms trembled with your weight and I slowly lowered you to the grass.
Nails raked my naked skin as you dragged the
tunic over my head and the feel of flesh on flesh made me giddy and lightheaded.
Sweat covered our bodies and we slid together easily, pressing urgently together
as our kisses became more desperate. More volatile.
My own need coursed through my veins, responding to you. To your kisses; your
touches.
I wake then, shivering in the big bed, huddled beneath the covers like a child. Always my dream ends there, always I am left feeling bereft. Aching with loneliness and loss. Desperately unfulfilled.
The end of the dream I know all so well. We made love in the shadows of the great stones. Our bodies rolled and locked together in a perfect union; matched size for size and rhythm for rhythm. How sweet that day remains in my memory. Though we would come together as frequently as duty and time would permit, no day was more perfect than our first together. No bed did we ever find that was more soft than the mosses and grasses. No herbs ever smelt so sweet as the clover crushed by our passion.
The warriors, your men, told me your final words. I repeat them, like a mantra, in the dark of the night. My arms remember the feel of your lifeless weight as much as my manhood remembers the tightness of your passage or my lips remember the taste of your kisses.
"Let me lie here— in the Ford until Eomer comes!"
Theodred, my beloved Prince, how I miss you.
Hama stares at me with concern as I stand before your grave with the cold winter wind whipping my cloak. The grasses are brown and a fine layer of frost covers the mound now. In the summer, flowers will bloom and their sweet fragrance will fill the air.
This is my ritual, my homage, to you, Theodred. I come and I share with you my dreams and my fears. Do you hear me? Can you feel the ache in my heart? Do you know that you took with you my own soul?
Soon, I will take a wife. I have met her and made the arrangements. She is Lothiriel of Gondor. I am assured she will make an excellent mate. She will give me her hand and her heart. In time, she will give me children.
What, then, shall I give her? What have I, Eomer Eadig, to offer one such as she? She will be a Queen to the people of Rohirrim. She will be the mother of future rulers.
That is all I can offer her. That is all that
is left of me, Eomer, King of the Mark. The rest of me lies here, beneath
this mound.
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