Had anyone asked Eomer what he felt as he stood on the plains before Sauron's fortress, he would have used words like 'fractured' and 'disjointed'. For that was how he'd felt ever since the battle at The Hornburg. He attended battle-planning sessions. He trained still with his men. He fought beside them. He walked among them. Celebrated with them. Mourned with them. He was a part of them. He was apart from them.
The Elves of Lothlorien, led by Haldir, had departed for The Hornburg before the men and, apparently, marched without stopping as Eomer and his men never caught up to them. Stormcrow, as promised, met the Riders near dawn and together they had raced down the steep hill into the rear of Saruman's army of Orcs and Uruk'Hai. The March Warden of Lothlorien never knew that Eomer had arrived in time. He had died the night before believing that Eomer would not come. But he had come. Had ridden his horse almost to death. Had pushed himself and his men beyond endurance. He'd not lied to Haldir when he said that he stood to lose everything if he did not arrive at The Hornburg in time. Eomer had arrived in time, and still he lost everything.
Whatever he and Haldir had shared that one night out on the open plains had not been love. Yet, to Eomer, it had felt like love. Although he had loved and been loved by many women, he had never been loved by a male. He had never desired to be loved by a male. He had never desired to love a male. Haldir had changed all that for him. By the time Haldir had thrust deep inside him and spilled his seed, Eomer was in love. His grief remained private, a deep well of darkness from whence demons came in the night to torment him. He dared not share his secret with any. His men, he feared, would not understand. There were few he was close enough to that he felt that he could talk to them about Haldir. About how he felt. Oh, to be sure, what Haldir had done to him that night was no secret. How could it have been a secret with he, Eomer, shouting Haldir's name at the top of his lungs? No one said anything to him about it. In truth, he was not the only one on that long, hair-raising ride to seek comfort and…love.
He sat in his tent, the one that should have been occupied by his Uncle, Théoden. But Théoden was dead and Eomer was now King of Eorlingas. Eomer should not have been king. That honor should have passed to Theodred, his cousin. Theodred was dead, buried in the mounds beneath his home. Eomer had moments when he believed he was in the grips of a nightmare and would awaken soon. Only he never did. He had duties. He had responsibilities. He had no idea where to begin. He had no idea how he was to forget that night in Haldir's arms.
Eomer closed his eyes, remembering that one night as vividly as if Haldir was even now in the tent with him.
Eomer had asked, studying Haldir closely. He'd admired the way the Elf's armor hugged his lean and muscular body, the way his soft hair had fallen over his shoulders. He'd been baited too many times, however, and kept his tone nasty, seeking a way to penetrate the Elf's defenses. "Do you not fear missing the battle?"
"There is more than one battle, Eomer of the Rohirrim. Let us end ours, hm?"
Eomer had feigned ignorance. He had avoided looking beyond the obvious intent of Haldir's words, not wanting to admit to the tension he'd felt building between them. "Your aid is appreciated far more than you know. We shall need every able body we can get at The Hornburg."
"Let us end this sparring match, Eomer. You feel it as well as I. There is a pull between us, an electricity that I felt the moment you clasped my hand." Haldir's eyes had lit up with an inner fire that scorched Eomer from across the tiny table.
Eomer had stared, then, his manhood rising beneath the breeches and armor. He wanted the Elf, and though he should deny it to the heavens, he wanted that Elf in a way he'd never wanted a woman or another man. He could feel the flush rising on his cheeks and prayed that his beard covered it from Haldir's penetrating gaze. Haldir had settled on something else. Something far more intimate and difficult to hide than flushed cheeks and bright eyes. He had fixed on Eomer's erection and grasped it beneath his leggings. Eomer had never wanted anything so bad in his life when the Elf's fingers stroked him through the cloth. He almost dropped to his knees then and there.
When dinner arrived, Eomer slammed it on the table, spilling juices. He'd tried his damnedest to insult Haldir, but the Elf refused to be baited. Or side tracked. Instead, he'd selected a piece of venison and offered to him, with his own fingers. Had the temerity to call him, him, Marshal of the Western Reaches, pet. Eomer had tried to object. Had wanted to object. Couldn't object. He wanted to be Haldir's pet. Would have welcomed being his whore. Almost offered. Held his tongue, and his pride, at the last second.
He felt his pulse raced. "Pet?"
"You do not wish to be my whore. Perhaps being my pet suits you better?" Haldir's eyes had lit up in amusement.
Eomer's breath caught in his throat. The soft musical voice offered promises Eomer had never dreamed existed, never mind dared to dream. His heart raced. He wanted to kiss those lips, taste Haldir's sweetness. Oh, how he wanted the Elf. Hesitantly, Eomer had leaned forward, locking his gaze on Haldir's blue eyes, and allowed the Elf to slip the venison between his lips. Unable to resist, he'd sucked Haldir's fingers into his mouth, relishing the taste of roast venison and delectable Elf on his palette. He'd moaned softly and sucked the long fingers.
Haldir removed his fingers with a soft sucking sound. "Much better, my pet. Come here." With his other hand he beckoned Eomer to him while he selected another cut of meat.
Eomer hadn't wanted any more of the venison. He'd lost his appetite for food. All he could taste were Haldir's fingers. All he wanted to taste was more of Haldir. Lost in a hazy world of desire and curiosity, Eomer had found himself unable to disobey the order. He rose and went to Haldir, waiting expectantly for Haldir's next command.
"Kneel and loosen your hair for me." When Eomer had obeyed, Haldir had laughed his musical laugh. "You are graceful, for a Man."
Eomer had unclasped the tiny clip holding his long blond hair back from his forehead and shook his head so that his hair fell forward over his eyes. Eomer had shivered when Haldir reached down and brushed the errant locks aside. Haldir's hand moved to his beard and stroked curiously along his jaw, feeling the unusual texture of the facial hair. Eomer had leaned in to the touch, feeling the warm hand stroke his face and throat, touching him gently; exploring his face. No one had ever made him feel so…alive. Eomer turned his face into the cupped palm and nipped playfully at the wrist.
"Does my pet wish to play?" Haldir purred. His eyes glittered with desire and lust. "I would see you unclothed, my pet. I would look upon your manhood and see if it is as proud as you."
Eomer had climbed shakily to his feet then, uncertain if his knees would support him. He began unbuckling the strap he could reach and then looked at Haldir helplessly. "I cannot undress myself. The armor is cumbersome."
Haldir knew Eomer was using the armor as an excuse, but had not seemed to mind. He rose gracefully and helped Eomer with the buckles and straps, tossing each piece of armor aside, careless of where it landed or how. Had Haldir been one of Eomer's squires he'd have taken the boy's head. Somehow, with Haldir, it hadn't seemed so important. It was only leather and metal. When the last piece of armor landed in the dirt, Haldir had slowly circled Eomer. He eyed him up and down and Eomer felt his face grow even redder. Did he measure up to standards? Those impossible Elven standards?
"Remove your tunic and leggings." Eomer had been relieved and quickly responded, stripping off the last remnants of his modesty. He no longer cared. All he could think of was pleasing Haldir. Of being pleasured by Haldir. He tugged his under tunic over his head and dropped it to the ground. His cock strained against the snug laces of his leggings. Eomer reached down and removed his boots and kicked them aside. Then he slowly untied the laces of his pants, releasing his cock by degrees. The cool evening air felt good on his heated skin.
Haldir had kept his face impassive, though his arousal was apparent and the
light in his eyes spoke volumes to Eomer. "Down," he had ordered,
pointing to a spot on the ground between his feet.
Never once hesitating-never thinking to hesitate- Eomer dropped and waited expectantly, secretly delighted in the way Haldir assumed control, removing all decisions from him. When Haldir reached down and pulled his head forward so that it rested against the bulge in his pants, Eomer sighed. At that moment, he could have happily died. Haldir wasn't done with the Marshal. Far from it, and Eomer had nearly swallowed his tongue as Haldir began to tease him by slowly stripping off his own clothes.
Haldir's armor landed in a heap near Eomer's own bulkier armor. The silken shirt beneath the armor was slowly pushed up, revealing the bulge in Haldir' pants where Eomer had been resting his head. When Eomer tentatively raised his hands, intending to place them on Haldir's hips, Haldir had roughly ordered him to place them behind his back. He'd done just that. Locking one hand around his wrist, feeling the slick of his own sweat.
Haldir lifted one leg and placed it on Eomer's shoulder, pushing himself against
the Man's face, while he unlaced his boot. Eomer found his nose pressed to the
gentle curve of Haldir's cock and inhaled deeply. He opened his mouth and nuzzled
Haldir through the cloth, loving the feel of his hardness, the sweet smell of
sex and woods and clear springs. The Guardian shifted and placed his other foot
on Eomer's shoulder and removed that boot as well. The whole while, Eomer kept
his fisted hands behind his back and his parted lips against Haldir's erection.
Eomer felt his own cock weeping in response.
Eomer panted as Haldir slid his hands up his under
shirt, exposing his muscled abdomen inch by inch. He splayed his fingers, letting
them roam up and over his chest while Eomer watched. His fingers touched his
own nipples and he took them in his hands and pinched. Eomer had bitten down
hard on his lip. When the tunic lay on the ground, Haldir braced his hands on
the back of Eomer's head and pulled him in a close embrace, grinding his erection
into Eomer's face through the cloth of his leggings. Eomer had rubbed his face
harder against Haldir, nuzzling him with tongue and beard.
Eomer had trembled in Haldir's embrace. His cock bobbed as he rocked against
Haldir. He had panted and moaned like a girl, wanting to taste the Elf and frustrated
because he could not. Haldir reached a hand in front of Eomer and unlaced his
breeches, freeing his cock. The heavy member brushed against Eomer's cheek and
Eomer had rubbed the swollen member with his beard, causing Haldir to moan loudly.
Eomer moved to lick Haldir, opening his mouth wide to receive the Elf; nor did
Haldir stop him. Instead, he had twisted his long fingers in Eomer's hair and
pulled him hard into him.
He had never had a man inside his mouth and at
first he was awkward and uncertain. Eomer swallowed and felt Haldir shudder.
He shifted his weight, settling back on his calves, trying to find a comfortable
position. He began to slowly suck and swallow. As he grew accustomed to Haldir's
hot length, he grew bolder. He pushed forward, trying to get more of Haldir
in his mouth, tasting his sweetness. He moaned against Haldir as the Elf thrust
in and out of his willing mouth. On and on it went, with Haldir moaning softly
and grunting each time he thrust into Eomer's willing mouth. Eomer, too, moaned
and panted. Eomer could feel Haldir shudder as he reached the edge, and he sucked
harder, pulling Haldir as deep as possible. Shoving the Elf all the way to the
back of his throat. But Haldir had other ideas and withdrew before he spilled
himself inside the warm cavern of Eomer's mouth. Eomer had moaned in frustration
and tried to follow the retreating cock.
.
He quivered as he stared at Haldir's impassive face, frightened that he had
somehow displeased the unearthly creature above him. "What did I do wrong?"
Haldir pulled Eomer to his feet and led him to the campstool. "I want to know what you taste like, my pet." His had flicked experimentally against the head of Eomer's cock, tasting the warm droplets pooling on the slit. He ran his tongue up the underside of Eomer's cock and Eomer had gasped, tilting his head back. He pulled Eomer closer, taking the full length of cock in his mouth, swallowing until the head brushed back against his throat. His hands pulled open Eomer's ass and one finger played with the tight opening.
Eomer's ass instantly tightened and he jerked away from the Elf's grip. Panic gripped Eomer's heart. "No."
"You will do what I tell you, pet, or accept the consequences." Haldir's lips had tightened and his eyes had narrowed to slits. Eomer felt himself jerked forward and flung over Haldir's knees. He could feel Haldir's muscles bunch beneath his chest and stomach as his weight rested on the strong legs. Haldir's cock brushed his side.
"What--?" He began, but had gotten no further as a palm, calloused like a warriors and still unbearably soft, slammed down on his bare ass. He had yelped in surprise. Haldir shifted so that Eomer's cock fell between his knees and he clamped them around the distended member. Eomer groaned.
"You will obey me." Smack. "I will not tolerate your insolence." Smack. "Disobedience has consequences." Smack. "Do you understand me, Man?" Smack.
Eomer had been unable to think, unable to answer. He was surprised. He was embarrassed. He was unbearably aroused. He had felt the moisture from Haldir's weeping cock as it brushed his side. He had felt Haldir's knees rocking and swaying with each stroke, and the pressure on his own cock had Eomer nearly crying from excitement. Haldir had spoken, in between sharp slaps to his bottom, but Eomer had not heard. All he could do was enjoy the sensation of the sharp, stinging blows on his flesh. He had known, at that moment, that he pleased Haldir. Otherwise, the Elf would not have bothered to discipline him; would have simply retrieved his clothes and left.
Smack. "Answer." Smack.
"Yes." Eomer breathed, he ass on fire and beginning to sting from the blows being delivered by Haldir. He had no idea, really to what he agreed. He did not care, either. He never wanted the punishment to stop. He wanted to feel Haldir's hand against his ass forever.
Smack. "What?" Smack.
"Yes, Master."
Fingers pulled Eomer's cheeks open and a wet finger inserted past his tight opening. Eomer no longer cared. He wanted. He needed. His desire overruled his fear and he had strained towards the prying finger. The finger inside him curled and brushed a tender spot that Eomer did not know existed. He went rigid and a cry of pure pleasure was torn from his throat. "Haldir," he panted, pushing back against the Elf with all his strength.
Haldir had slid in and out of Eomer, deftly brushing the nub with each stroke. Eomer had abandoned all pretexts and moaned and wriggled. Another finger entered Eomer's ass, stretching him wider. Eomer's feet had dug into the ground and he bounced his hips up and down on Haldir's lap. Eomer had fucked Haldir's thighs, pumping up and down on the strong legs while the fingers curled deep inside him sent him spiraling into a plane of bliss.
After a few minutes, he pulled Eomer upright and gently kissed his lips. "On your knees, my pet."
Eomer swallowed hard and stared deep into Haldir's eyes. "Please," he begged, unsure for what he begged. Haldir had asked if he meant to disobey and Eomer knew that he wouldn't. Couldn't. He had cast his eyes down and climbed from Haldir's lap. Eomer positioned himself on all fours. He bit his lip as he felt Haldir's hands spread his cheeks. His muscles tensed as he prepared for the invasion he dreaded. Instead, he felt Haldir's wet tongue enter him. His breath caught in his throat as the tongue rolled inside him, plunging quickly out and thrusting back in. He found himself rocking back, silently begging for more. Then hands opened him wider and he felt Haldir's cock brush his barrier and he tried not to cringe. He held himself still, though he trembled.
"Relax," Haldir soothed. His hands stroked Eomer's back, lovingly trailing his fingers along strong muscles.
A keening sound came from deep within him, as he was ripped open. His shoulders shook and he fell forward so that his forehead rested on the cool earth. He tasted the salt of his tears and was humiliated at his weakness. His fingers gouged furrows into the dirt. But his master had been patient and instead of brutally raping him, had simply held still, stroking his back and shoulders, letting his protesting body adjust. Then he'd moved, only a fraction, really, and the head of his cock touched that sweet place that his fingers had grazed and traced, and Eomer forgot that he was in pain. He forgot that a male was riding him as if he were a woman. He forgot to be humiliated. He forgot that his men were outside listening to his grunts and groans and cries of pleasure. He threw back his head and screamed Haldir's name.
Haldir had pumped Eomer harder, pulling out and slamming back in with so much force that he'd fallen forward. Haldir's powerful hands gripped Eomer's shoulders and held him firmly while he fucked his ass hard and fast. Eomer had braced his hands and met Haldir stroke for stroke, adding his own formidable strength to the thrusts. Each time Haldir had slammed into him, Eomer and cried out the Elf's name. He felt Haldir shudder once and then hot cum scalded his insides. He whimpered his frustration as he painful erection scraped the earth, mixing his own essence with the dirt beneath him.
Haldir had lifted himself away from Eomer. "Turn over," he ordered.
When Eomer had hurried to obey, knowing his master would not leave him in such a state. When Haldir had pushed open the hairy legs and knelt between them, Eomer had trembled with desire and anticipation. Eomer's cock was taken into his mouth, licked and sucked; the tongue rolled along the sensitive vein. He had squeezed the sac at the base of Eomer's cock and then placed a single finger deep inside him. Eomer arched his back and begged for release. He cried for Haldir to end his torment. He begged shamelessly. Haldir had taken the head of Eomer's cock between his teeth and brutally assaulted the tip with his tongue, jabbing and flicking the small opening with the tip of his tongue. Eomer's head thrashed from side to side. He twined his fingers in Haldir's soft hair, seeking closer contact. He spread his legs wider, relishing the feel of Haldir's fingers brushing that spot deep within him that made his blood race and his cock leap. He felt the lava boiling within him. He held on, waiting for permission.
He shoved a second finger inside the Eorlingas and pushed hard against the prostate. "You may cum, now," his breath brushed the swollen cock, rustling the hairs surrounding it
Eomer's body went rigid. He cried out, his voice ringing beyond the confines of his tent. He did not care. He spilled his seed down Haldir's throat. Haldir swallowed every drop. When Eomer stopped shuddering, Haldir let his flaccid cock slip from his mouth and gently licked him clean. Haldir got to his feet and quickly donned his clothes. Too sated to do more than watch, Eomer said nothing as the Elf quickly dressed.
He leaned over Eomer and dropped a light kiss on his the tip of his nose. "I shall see you at Helm's Deep, my pet, and you shall properly show your gratitude for my aid."
Eomer sat back in his chair and stared disconsolately
at the cum spilling across his fingers and chest. Haldir had been dead by the
time he'd reached The Hornburg and he'd never again laid eyes on the beautiful
creature who'd so fulfilled him on the eve of battle. He had no time to mourn.
He had no time to gather his thoughts as his Uncle was killed and his sister
gravely wounded. He was King of the Rohirrim. Period. Kings did not publicly
display their grief. They did not openly acknowledge a lost love. Especially
if the King were a King of Men and his lost love was a male Elf. He picked up
a cloth and began to clean himself off.
"King Eomer?"
Eomer started and cursed softly. "Who goes there?"
"Tis I, Elladan, Son of Lord Elrond of Rivendell. My brother and I come with a message from King Aragorn." Elladan slanted a glance at his brother. They had waited some distance away from the tent, waiting for the sounds coming from within to cease. Only Elven ears would have heard the soft sounds coming from inside. Only Elven ears would have heard Haldir's name pass over the lips of the King of the Rohirrim.
Elladan and Elrohir had stood quietly, talking among themselves. Surely, however, they had misheard. Haldir? Eomer? The Pride of Lothlorien and the King of the Mark? Not that Men and Elves were unheard of, only uncommon. But to think of Haldir bedding a Man was beyond comprehension.
"What does Gondor's King want with me?" Eomer flung wide the tent flap and glared at the identical Elves standing at the entrance.
Elrohir sidled a curious glance at his brother, silently asking if Elladan saw and smelled what he saw and smelled. Elladan fractionally inclined his head. He smelled Men's sex and tears. He saw faintly red-rimmed eyes. He saw tear tracks through mud-stained cheeks.
"Aragorn is holding a counsel and wishes for all his Generals attend for finalization of battle plans." Elladan answered.
Eomer's brown eyes flamed with anger. "Is the King of Gondor unable to wipe his own ass without the aid of Rivendell and the Men of the Mark to bear witness?" He stormed back inside his tent and snatched his horsehair-topped helm from the table. Slamming the helm upon his head, he bolted past the twins and towards Aragorn's tent.
The twins said nothing as they moved aside to allow the King of Rohan to pass.