Elladan was stopped outside his door by Elrohir. "I take it things did not go as well with Eomer as you would have liked." He did not sound as if he was disappointed by the thought.
"He is as much enthrall of our father as he was with Haldir."
Elrohir accepted this information. "I would say there is something in him that was broken before he came into contact with our cousin. He submits too quickly, too easily and gives too completely. Tis an unhealthy action. He will cause himself some grievous injury some day. Or worse." He did not elaborate on the worse, nor did he have to for Elladan understood his brother all too well.
"Where is Father?" He changed the subject. "I
think it would be better for Eomer if his master came and claimed him."
This last dripped with enough sarcasm to leave no doubts in Elrohir's mind as
to the direction his brother's feelings had begun to flow.
Elrohir gave Elladan directions to Lord Elrond and made for the other end of
the hall. When he was certain Elladan was well on his way, Elrohir doubled back.
He crept into the room where Eomer still knelt with his back to the door. The
Elf watched the Man for a long moment, studying him, trying to discover what
it was about him that had attracted first Haldir and then Elladan. He was handsome,
in the ways of men. And certainly, as he'd discovered, having that full beard
and mustache tickling one added spice to sexual encounters. But to love him
or feel more than desire for him? Elrohir tilted his head to the side in contemplation.
Eomer heard faint footsteps and froze; fearing-hoping- Elrond had come for him. He wanted to see his master. Wanted comfort. He knew Elrond would give him no comfort. Elrond would undoubtedly be displeased and Eomer could not say he blamed him. Shoes entered his line of vision and he realized it was not his master. At first he thought it was Elladan, returning. He lifted his head and met Elrohir's speculative gaze.
"So, little whore, here you are weeping like a girl and waiting for my father to come make it all better. What makes you think he wants you, anyway? What makes you think he will abandon King Aragorn's side to come baby sit you?"
Eomer's eyelids flickered over his brown orbs in shame. Eomer whispered hoarsely. "I cannot.."
"Oh, but my sweet little whore, you will." Elrohir angrily dragged Eomer to his feet. Eomer struggled, his fear overcoming his natural inclinations to obedience.
A strong slap to his face rocked his head back and he staggered, desperately trying to regain his balance. Before he realized what he'd done, his fist connected with Elrohir's face. They came together in a sprawl of limbs and clothing and fell, rolling and writhing on the floor. Elrohir came out on top, with his knees in the small of Eomer's back and his fist clutched in the Man's hair.
"An insult to Elladan is an insult to me, little whore," he hissed, breathing heavily in to Eomer's ear. "Do you think Elladan and my father are the only ones capable of dealing out cruel punishment? I assure you, they are not. I will make sure you never forget that we are your masters." He promised.
"Elrohir," Lord Elrond leaned against the doorjamb, elegant hands clasped in front of him. "Release the King of Rohan."
Elrohir half turned, painfully twisting his knees against Eomer's spine. "Of course, Father." He rose gracefully, releasing Eomer.
"I will speak with you in a moment." He eyed his son disdainfully. "Wait in the other room."
Elrohir offered no protest, only blushed faintly at the rebuke and slunk from the room. Elrond closed the door behind him and came to stand before Eomer.
"You are recovering your spirit at last," He reached down a hand to help Eomer to his feet. "I had begun to wonder if you ever would."
Eomer took the proffered hand and struggled to his feet. His nose was bloody and he had bruise forming over his right temple that would spark questions and speculations at the banquet. "Is that what this was about?"
Elrond's shoulder lifted and fell smoothly. "I cannot say what is on the minds of my sons, but for me, yes."
For a moment Eomer was stunned into silence, then his face turned deep scarlet as he realized the level of his humiliation. He'd willingly submitted. Again. What, he wondered, was wrong with him? What fever clouded his mind so that he could so willingly bend the will of the Elves? Did he labor under an evil spell? HE watched in fascination as Elrond's had moved towards his face. He jerked his head back at the last second, glad he was able to do that much. His defiance strengthened him. "Then I must thank you for curing me, Lord Elrond. Will you will excuse me? I should go freshen up before the banquet."
Elrond studied the deep brown eyes that had gone from cloudy to clear. He saw reason return to Eomer and relaxed. To some his methods had seemed unnecessarily cruel and he worried that he would be unable to gently extricate his life from Eomer's. "I hope that the Rohirrim and the Elves can remain, at least, allies."
"The Rohirrim owe the Elves a great debt," he paused and then presented his back to Lord Elrond. "Would you be so kind to remove the device from my body?"
Elrond suppressed his smile and he came forward and gently extracted the phallus from Eomer. When the thick leather was placed on the table, Eomer adjusted his clothing.
"I will see you at the celebratory feast, Lord of Rivendell." As he passed from the room in to the outer chamber, he nodded cordially to Elrohir, as if nothing had happened between them.
Elrond followed Eomer from the sleeping chambers. "Elrohir,"
he sat beside his son and draped a fatherly arm around the younger Elf's shoulders.
"Eomer is a king and deserved respect." He chastised the Orc hunter.
"I know, Father. I was out of line, for certain. Yet I could stand his
arrogance no longer." Elrohir defended himself.
"His arrogance? Elrond's brow came up. "Nay, Elrohir, not his arrogance. He was a slave and, as such, had no will of his own until I released him. Elladan's pride was piqued when the King of Rohan refused his advances and you, being the fighter and protector, chose to demonstrate your ire in an inappropriate fashion."
Elrohir lowered his eyes, silently acknowledging his error. "Elladan was deeply hurt, father, and I reacted to his pain."
"Of course you did, my son, for you and Elladan are of the same soul. I forgive you, as I am sure King Eomer has." Elrond patted his son's shoulder. "Clean yourself up, my son, for the banquet begins soon."
The banquet hall was filled to overflowing with guests and friends of the new
King. Minas Tirith, too, overflowed as folks from all over Middle Earth came
to pay homage to the Isildur's heir and to take part in the victory celebrations
for the defeat of Sauron at Pellenor. The fellowship gathered together at one
end of the hall, closely guarding one another one last time. They knew that,
sooner than they would like, they must all go their separate ways and each,
in their own way, sought to preserve their time together a little longer.
Eomer walked among the guests, offering congratulations where appropriate and pausing to speak with this or that person. Whatever went on in his mind, he kept to himself. He showed no sign of his inner turmoil, unlike previously when he'd come so close to a mental collapse over the death of Haldir. Indeed, Eomer was not on the verge of a nervous collapse at all, but rather he struggled with his feelings. He wondered at his ability to become submissive. He was plagued by the idea that, perhaps, he craved the company of male Elves rather than women. There were implications, ramifications, to be considered. Not only for him, but also for his sister and his kingdom.
He found himself seated between the younger Elves, once again. On his right were Elladan followed by Elrohir. To his left were the brothers of Haldir; Orophin was closest, then Rumil. Unlike their previous meal together, Eomer did not drink heavily; in fact, he drank very little save water. Most importantly, he remained painfully correct and polite. At all times he was cordial and, sometimes almost jovial, determined that he should give no one cause for alarm. Eowyn was his chief concern. Not only was she willing to forsake her own happiness to return to Edoras, but Eomer feared that his own peculiar behavior might give Faramir second thoughts. No one wanted unstable family drifting in and out of his or her lives.
Whenever the questions drifted through his mind, instead of shying away from them, he welcomed them. He was more prepared to face them this time. The ruler of Rivendell had given him the courage. Elves on either side of him were treated to a charming version of Rohan's king.
Unable to resist any longer, Rumil leaned around his brother. 'I wonder if you would indulge me, King of the Mark?"
Eomer, too, leaned around Orophin to better hear Rumil. "In what way?"
"Would you share your meeting of our brother with us? We would like to know as much about the last days of his life as possible."
"We are composing a song in his memory," Orophin added. "Your input would fill in the gaps."
The blond man recoiled, pushing his back against Elladan's shoulder as he was suddenly faced with the horror of their request. Elladan had heard the request and felt him shiver. He longed to place his arms around the strong shoulders in comfort but could not.
"I can add nothing to your knowledge. I met him on the plains and, after Stormcrow delivered the news about Sauron's army, we made for The Hornburg. The Elves managed to arrive that afternoon while my men and I did not arrive until dawn. I wish we could have been sooner for your brother might have survived. Many who died that night might have survived. I have come to understand that it is impossible to change the past, therefore I accept that our victory was at a high cost to many." He spoke gently and slowly, displaying sorrow and compassion.
Rumil and Orophin exchanged glances then nodded. Whatever had or might not have happened on those plains in Rohan, Eomer would never speak of it, even to the brothers of one who'd been there. They accepted this with grace.
Somewhere fife and drum struck a tune and the guests began scrambling from their seats to find dancing partners. Benches were shoved aside by willing servants and the tables were pulled against the walls to give everyone room. The crowd spilled on to the balconies and the gardens. Below the castle, citizens and guests of Minas Tirith echoed the movements of the nobles and lords and heroes. All over the city bands struck lively tunes and couples paired for dancing and giggling children, and more than one Hobbit, tangled underfoot.
Women of Gondor, and even a few of the female Elves present pulled Eomer into several dances. Several dances belonged to Eowyn. He took great delight in her smile and laughing eyes. The shadows that had touched her on Pellenor no longer haunted her eyes. She found happiness and a way to erase the horrors of war. In some ways, Eomer envied her. He wanted to find a way to do that, but his methods were unbecoming a king.
Besides, all his questions had been asked and Elrond had answered.
The answer was no.
Gandalf had one last surprise for the guests of Minas Tirith. Near its zenith,
the quarter moon hung suspended in a cloudless sky surrounded by a sprinkling
of stars. There was an earsplitting hiss and then a sharp pop. The sky erupted
with a brilliant flare of light and faded into a myriad of twinkling lights
scattering radiance all over the White City. No sooner had the last gasp of
an appreciative audience ended than another brilliant burst nearly blinded the
on lookers.
Eomer stood beneath the night sky and watched in wonder. Such celebrations were a rarity among the horsemen. Living off the land and their horses left so little time for frivolity. Not that they did not have their festivals and feasts, for surely they did. But days and nights like this had been far and few in the Rohirrim. Eomer decided at that moment to change that for the people of the Mark.
From the corner of his eye he caught sight of Elladan and Elrohir walking sedately through the gardens. They had their arms linked together, in the fashion of brother, not lovers. Nonetheless, Eomer wondered. He obliquely studied them as the stopped beneath a rose covered arbor. Their pale skin glowed beneath the stars and fireworks. Their dark hair flowed down their shoulders and gleamed with darker highlights. Eomer wondered what it would be like to possess that beauty. He knew what it was like to be possessed by it. Now he wanted to feel the reverse.
He sighed and turned his eyes away. That path was no longer his to take. Even had he not been a king and expected to wed and produce heirs, Elladan had asked. He, Eomer had answered. The answer had been no.
The celebration wound to a close and guests drifted off in singles and pairs. The night, though young, by necessity needed to end early as a wedding was in the works for the following afternoon. Aragorn, the King of Gondor, would wed Arwen and history would be made, one more time. Eomer was glad to see the end in sight. For the wedding of Arwen and Aragorn would bring him one step closer to going home. He would have to stay long enough to see Eowyn wed to Faramir. And then he and his men would make the trip back to Edoras.
He turned from the gardens, intending to make his way to his rooms, when he collided with Elrohir. "Lord Elrohir," he stepped back, cautiously eyeing the Elf who'd only hours before referred to him as 'little whore'.
"I have not had the opportunity to extend my apologies, King Eomer," Elrohir bowed deeply from the waist. "As my father pointed out, my reaction was inappropriate. I should have remembered that you are always a king, even when your private life leads you in other directions."
Taken aback, Eomer could not think for a moment. "There is no reason to apologize," he said at last. He moved to go around Elrohir, but stopped. "I did not mean to insult Elladan."
Back in his rooms, Eomer stripped of his ceremonial garb and slipped into a comfortable pair of gray silk pants with a simple drawstring at the waist. He layered a sleeveless tunic of the same color over the pants. He prowled restlessly through his suite, feeling at a loss. He was not tired, though he should have been. He felt a tightness around him, like the tension before a storm. He lay on the bed but got up a few moments later. He decided a stroll would clear his head and took a light robe to cover the thin material of his clothes.
He roamed down the corridors, passing silent but attentive guards, until he stood in the garden housing the famous tree of Gondor. He breathed deeply of the sweet fragrance of blooming night flowers.
"Unable to sleep, King Eomer?"
Eomer spun and found himself face to face with Elladan. "I thought a walk would clear my head."
"I could prepare you a tonic, if you like. Or fetch my Father," Elladan offered. He almost reached out his hand to caress Eomer's cheek. He had become far too enamored of the Man and he knew nothing good could come of the infatuation. Still he did not discourage his fantasies.
What will you do when he finally departs these shores for the West? "When Lord Elrond departs for the West, will you and Elrohir join him?"
"I do not believe so. We have reasons to stay."
Look you beyond him who enthralls you, for that heart-the heart of your heart's desire-stands in the shadows of the great.---- Suddenly Lady Galadriel's word washed over him and he understood. He took a hesitant step towards Elladan. "You asked me what I would do when your father abandoned me to return to Imladris. I believe I may now know."
Elladan breathed the scent of Eomer mixed with the fragrance of the garden. "What will you do, then, Eomer of the Mark?"
"Lady Galadriel offered me some advice that I think I shall take." He stepped right into Elladan. "I shall look for my heart's desire in the shadow of the great."
Elladan tilted his head and Eomer captured the tip of his pointed
ear. He shivered against Eomer. The tip of Eomer's ear penetrated his canal
and Elladan's arms crushed the Man to him. They rubbed against one another,
the thin silk of Eomer's
clothing hiding nothing from Elladan. For his part, Elladan's robes were not
thick enough to prevent him feeling every inch of Eomer.
"The garden may not be the place to have this discussion," Elladan reluctantly pulled his ear away from Eomer's inquisitive mouth. "Let us retire to my rooms."