Eomer/Elladan
Artwork by Ranger
Seem more of her work here: Ranger's Page
Eomer stood inside Elladan's rooms looking around expectantly. Elladan tiptoed to the bedroom door and pulled the portal closed. He then went to a chaise and straddled it with shoulders against the cushioned back. He patted the seat between his long legs, inviting Eomer to join him.
Hesitantly, Eomer settled between Elladan's thighs. Elladan pulled the Rohirrim against his chest and laid his chin on his shoulder.
"What about Elrohir?" Eomer relaxed, feeling the heat from Elladan's body seep through the thin garments. Elladan's hands were against his thighs, resting gently, not really touching him, just laying flat against the chaise cushions.
"He rests," answered Elladan, his voice reverberating in Eomer's ear. "He will not mind that you are here."
"I doubt your brother is overly fond of me, Elladan," Eomer thought back to the afternoon spent in the room next room. He did not say anything to Elladan, as he did not wish to stir up any trouble with the other twin. In truth, Eomer had forgiven him the incident and, oddly, he felt he owed Elrohir for his harsh treatment. He opened Eomer's eyes in a way that Elrond had not been able.
Elladan tilted his head slightly. "He was rather rough with you after I left to get my father. Why have you come here, now, Eomer?"
Eomer brushed the ends of his robe down, reflecting on how safe and warm he felt leaning against Elladan. "I have used my experience with Haldir as an excuse to hide my true self, I think. I believe that may be why I easily became Lord Elrond's slave and, even, yours and Elrohir's. In my lands, this is wrong. Warriors can comfort each other on campaign and do, when the long nights riding our borders become too much. Always, Elladan, they return to their wives. I have never met a woman I wanted to take to wife. I thought that I had not met her. Now I begin to wonder if there is something within me that does not want a wife."
"Is that so wrong?" Elladan pressed his hands against the cushions to keep from running them along Eomer's thighs. He knew that now the Man was more vulnerable than when he'd been a slave to Lord Elrond. Even when he'd been cursed with the memories of what he allowed Haldir to turn him into.
Eomer struggled with his thoughts and emotions. "I no longer know the path I walk." He turned his face to Elladan and found his lips brushing against smooth jaw.
Elladan, too, turned until he faced the Man. Only a breath separated their lips. He could feel the thick hairs brushing the sensitive skin around his lips, tickling and scratching. He was not certain he would ever grow accustomed to, or stop enjoying, the sensation of whiskers scrubbing across his skin.
Lips parted and Eomer's timid tongue darted forward for a taste of Elladan. Before the Elf could react, the tongue retreated behind full lips and even white teeth. Mindful of the consequences, Elladan pressed forward, offering Eomer a chaste buss on the lips and holding still, hoping the Man would take the initiative and deepen the kiss.
Looking into the gray depths of Elladan's eyes was akin to drowning and Eomer's head swam as though deprived of air. He opened his lips slowly, pushing forth his tongue until it connected with Elladan's lower lip. Elladan's mouth opened, inviting Eomer's exploration. Eomer's hand twitched in his lap and Elladan captured it with his own, drawing it up to press it against the side of his own face. Fingers twined into his hair. Their tongues danced, slithering and sliding along side each other, breath hissed out and in, shared by both Man and Elf.
Elladan breathed against Eomer's mouth. "This path you
have chosen."
Eomer ran his hand along the back of Elladan's neck, beneath the silky brown
locks. "I fear this darkness. I fear what my people will say. I fear that
I may not be able to walk away."
The Elf's lips stilled and his tongue retreated behind his teeth. "You are no longer captive. This path you have chosen."
"You misunderstand me, son of Elrond." His brown eyes grew fearful. "I cannot give carelessly of myself-I did not offer myself to you as a midnight tryst. Tis not in me to flit from-"
"Elf to Elf?" Elladan smiled, understanding at last where Eomer's thoughts had taken him. "I am not seeking a slave. I have no need of a warm body on a cold eve to warm my bed. Someone is already in my bed."
Sharply Eomer drew away, remembering that in the next room Elrohir, twin to Elladan slept. He remembered the marks along Elrohir's body, remembered watching as Elladan took him. Embarrassed by his own wishful thinking and wanton behavior Eomer shifted so that there was a distance between he and the Elf. "I will go now."
Elladan's hands came down hard on his shoulders, holding him firmly in the chaise. "You bravely face Urk Hai and Orc hordes yet flee from your self. What is it that troubles you? Do you dislike knowing that Elrohir and I find pleasure in one another? Can you not accept love where you find it?"
Turning, Eomer laid his hand over Elladan's heart. "Love? Do you not mean lust?"
"Elves do not crave sexual pleasure in the ways of Men. When we chose to express that aspect of our nature, it is because we have an emotional attachment. Even Haldir felt such stirrings when he took you, my friend. Nor would father have made you his slave, even for a short while, if he did not have an emotional impetus. We do not give ourselves wantonly."
Beneath his hand, he could feel Elladan's heart beating. He was stunned by this revelation. Elladan's words only brought home another difference between Elves and Men. His hand traveled to the column of Elladan's throat and his thumb rested over the pulse.
"Come, love, lie back in my arms so that I may hold you." Elladan released Eomer's shoulders and spread his arms wide. He waited as Eomer's eyes traveled to the door separating Elrohir from their quiet conversation. "Are none born in your land who come from their mother's womb at the same time?"
Eomer's eyes snapped back to Elladan. "Aye, there are,
though they be few. I do not know that they express their love in the manner
of you and Elrohir."
Elladan let the stinging criticism pass. "Elrohir and I are linked in a
way that mere siblings can never understand. Will you not accept that because
I love you, so shall he? Will you shy away from sharing the love of two because
you fear what your heart tells you?"
Eomer let his hand drift upwards, cupping Elladan's face. The smoothness of his skin reminded Eomer of a woman's skin, though not of a woman. Far from that, for Elladan, despite his ethereal beauty and his proclivities was all male. At last he allowed his thoughts to be fitted to words. "I have no desire to be held."
Elladan felt a stabbing pain in his chest that was almost instantly replaced by an ache in his loins as Eomer placed his thumb against his lips. The Elf sucked the digit into his mouth, tasting salt and feeling the calloused pads, a remnant from so many years handling swords and reigns and bows, rasp along his tongue. The ache became fire as he watched Eomer's eyes go from brown to molten amber. Somehow Eomer had come closer without Elladan ever realizing it and leaned forward, so that their chests touched. Through the silk Elladan could feel muscle and hair, light and springy. He yearned to run his fingers through it, to feel it against his face, grazing his chest.
"Let me touch you," he whispered around Eomer's thumb.
Eomer withdrew his hand and slowly peeled away the robe and dropped it to the floor. Next, he lifted the tunic over his head and, it, too was discarded. He sat between Elladan's thighs, bare from the waist up, his erection pressing against the loose folds of his breeches. He reached out and took Elladan's hand and pressed it to the center of his chest, where the curls were the thickest. Elladan spread his long fingers wide, spanning the center of Eomer's chest. The hairs tickled and scrapped his palm just as the facial hairs had tickled and scrapped his face.
Eomer rose up on his knees, towering over Elladan. Cupping Elladan's face between his palms, he leaned down until his lips captured Elladan's. The exploration was nothing like the previous kiss. This one seared and punished and took without asking. His tongue thrust in and out of Elladan's mouth. "So sweet," he moaned as his mouth moved to Elladan's jaw, down over his throat. He teeth bit a trail to Elladan's ear.
Elladan moved his hands rapidly over Eomer's chest, raking across the flat nipples buried beneath the light hair. He felt ribs and rippled muscle and sweat. When Eomer's tongue flicked his ear he whimpered and pressed his lips to the Man's shoulder. Reaching up, he pulled Eomer so that he sat between the v of his legs and pushed aside the dark blond locks. His lips and teeth sought the tender spot beneath Eomer's ear and he licked and sucked the muscles and the lobe. Eomer's breath seared over his ear as a growl escaped from his throat. His mouth opened wide and sucked Elladan's ear, swirling his tongue along the sensitive rim.
For some time the only sounds were soft sighs and harsh moans and wet mouths searching and sucking and seeking the most tender spots. Eomer's limbs trembled and the front of his breeches grew damp. Breathing heavily, he at last pulled himself away from Elladan's embrace. His throat was marred with tiny red marks that would be bruises come morn, lover's marks. Elladan's throat bore the same.
Tenderly he pushed aside Elladan's robes, exposing supple limbs and firm muscles. Weeping erection. Wickedly, Eomer grinned as he braced his palms on either of Elladan's thighs and slowly lowered his head until his mouth came into contact with the elf's cock. He placed a butterfly kiss atop the purpled head before drifting away to kiss and nibble and taste Elladan's flat stomach.
Elladan clutched Eomer's shoulders and a litany of Elvish words flew from his lips. His head twisted and his thighs shook with the effort of holding still. For Eomer, in Elladan's mind, seemed intend of the worst kind of revenge possible. At that moment, Elladan would have given Eomer anything…anything…to stop the sweet torture. He shuddered as Eomer's tongue plunged into his navel and swirled it around.
"Love me," he groaned.
Eomer sat up and pulled Elladan's hands away from his shoulders. He shimmied out of his leggings, freeing himself. His cock stood proud and hard; jutting from between his thighs. Elladan spread his legs wide. He accepted Eomer's fingers into his mouth, sucking and rolling them around his tongue, moistening them with his own saliva. Eomer withdrew them from his mouth and inserted them inside Elladan, twisting and turning them, opening the Elf wide.
When Elladan began to writhe earnestly, he removed his fingers and pushed the head of his cock against Elladan's opening. He heard Elladan's contented sigh as he pushed himself deep in to the Elf. Tightness unlike anything he'd ever felt before enveloped him and he groaned aloud. He scooped Elladan's legs on to his shoulder and began to rock slowly.
"More," Elladan panted, reaching up to pull Eomer closer. His arms wrapped around Eomer tightly and he clutched Rohan's king to his chest, dinging his nails into the sweat coated back.
Eomer pushed harder, scooting the chaise on the rug. Beneath them the lounger's legs creaked alarmingly with the rhythm of their lovemaking. Elladan moaned and whispered Elvish endearments in Eomer's ear. Eomer lovingly complimented Elladan on his tightness.
After a few moments, they lay spend and exhausted, draped over each other and spilling from the chaise to the floor. The ancient wood shivered and creaked from the abuse. At last, Elladan stirred, his breathing back to normal.
"Come, love," he struggled from beneath Eomer and
dragged him off to the sleeping chamber.
Near dawn Eomer awoke sandwiched between Elrohir and Elladan. They had each turned on their sides, facing him, and slung a long leg over his. He was not uncomfortable, per se. Though the strong, supple limbs entwining his own gave rise to a sweeter ache than discomfort.
Feeling eyes staring at him, he turned his head and met Elrohir's gaze. The Elf raised his brow, his eyes asking silently. With a smile, Eomer turned over, being as careful as possible not to disturb Elladan. He shifted himself until his own leg lay over Elladan. Strong fingers pulled him open, stretching him, teasing him. He stifled a groan against Elladan's shoulder. He panted as a cock replaced the fingers, pushing past the guardian ring. He felt a light kiss on his forehead and realized Elladan was awake after all and smiled. Elladan shifted, bringing his leg up beneath Eomer's, pushing the Man's leg high on his chest. Behind them, Elrohir shifted closer, burying himself eve deeper inside Eomer.
"Ah…"
Elrond tried not to let his annoyance show on his features as his sons, accompanied by the King of Rohan crept into the room. A few minutes more and they would have missed the ceremony between Arwen and Aragorn. He would, later, chastise them for their tardiness. One was not late for the wedding of the King and Queen of Gondor. Much later, he thought, as he watched the three males. After all, t'is better late than never, as the Hobbit were wont to say.
In the land of the Rohirrim, at the city of Edoras, there are great mounds covered
in white star shaped flowers where the kings lie. The burial mounds stretch
along the road from Edoras, lining it on either side so that those entering
or leaving the city are graced with the presence of royalty.
In the city of Edoras it is whispered that one king does not lie alone in his burial mound. They say, those who put such stock in rumors and legends, that the Hero of The Hornburg, heir of Theoden, is buried with the bodies of twin Elves. Of course, as the rumor goes, the Elves departed for the West after the defeat of Sauron. All of course, but three or four. So the legends say that the Sons and Daughter of Elrond remained behind, to become mortal and die when their loves died. Arwen, married Aragorn, King of Gondor. The old romantics claim that Eomer took the Elven twins as lovers and advisors. The story is further recounted that when Eomer finally died of old age, the twins perished from grief and were laid with him, one on either side, as they were wont to sleep when they lived. Silly old wives' tales.
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