Faramir had been in Edoras for little more than a day and he had already
caused a remarkable stir within the land. The usual banquet had been
laid on as befitting for a visitor from Gondor, but this had seemed
to faze the youngest son of Denethor by all the attention. Two hours
into the celebrations and Faramir had already disappeared to his chambers
from the feast, pleading a headache, leaving Théodred to stare after
him thoughtfully.
"Sweet, isn't it?" he commented to his cousin who was sat
next to him. Éomer poured himself another glass of wine and glanced
up, slightly baffled by Théodred's words.
"What is?"
Théodred brought himself back into the conversation he was engaged
with rather than the conversation in his mind, and glanced at the Marshal.
"Oh, nothing. Pass some more of that ale, will you?"
Éomer narrowed his eyes, not convinced about the casualness of the
tone. "Not until you tell me what you were referring to,"
he replied, deliberately taking a sip from his own glass, his eyes set
on Théodred. Said man shrugged, as though it was of no concern to anyone.
"I was merely considering our guest,"
Éomer's glass was lowered incredulously. "You consider the younger
son of Denethor to be sweet?" he chuckled to himself. "The
Steward would not be happy to hear you say that,"
"Nor would he. However, it doesn't stop it being any the less
true." Théodred stared at the door the young Gondorian had left
through and smiled to himself. Éomer noticed, frowning. The glass was
lowered to the table once again as the full implications surfaced.
"Oh no. Please, no." he groaned to himself. Théodred looked
surprised.
"What?" he protested.
"Leave him alone," instructed his cousin, waving the bottle
of ale at him as though this would somehow add more force to his words.
However, even the addition of the bottle waving did not change anything.
Théodred sighed in a patient manner in response to Éomer's order.
"Éomer, has anyone told you how paranoid you actually are?"
"Constantly," replied Éomer shortly, and leant forward slightly
to emphasise his words. "Théodred, leave him alone. He's far too.,"
Éomer paused, searching for the right word. Théodred watched him politely.
"Sweet?" he offered.
"Innocent," growled Éomer. Théodred's expression was one
of sheer amusement.
"Éomer, are you calling me a pervert?" he said finally, a
grin already formed on his face.
"No, but I can do so if you prefer," replied Éomer levelly.
Théodred snorted and shook his head, pausing only to pick up a slice
of bread.
"His brother had no complaint," he pointed out, ripping the
bread in two. Crumbs scattered across the surface of the table. However,
Éomer was not in the mood to focus upon crumbs, his eyes fixed on his
cousin steadily.
"His brother is not him." Éomer shook his head. "Besides
which, he might prefer more .. tactful company," he struggled with
his words.
Théodred laughed in genuine amusement. "Éomer, the only tact you
know has a k and goes on a horse."
However, Éomer was not to be defeated. "He needs more delicate
handling than your usual method," he continued, trying to ignore
the look that was now gracing his cousin's features.
"And what *is* my usual method?" Théodred was fascinated.
Éomer looked uncomfortable. Théodred's habits and methods were unfortunately
well known to him, ever since he had taken a fancy to one of the soldiers
under Éomer's command. That had lasted for several months and, apparently,
allowed them to experience many different positions.
"I'm well aware how you tackled his brother," he replied
stiffly, choosing the easier of the subjects. Théodred made a noise
of consideration whilst taking a bite from the bread.
"He was quite a handful," Théodred swallowed the mouthful
and grinned towards his cousin. "In more ways than one I have to
confess,"
Éomer eyed him. "Is it or is it not true that you threatened him
with a riding crop?" he queried, dryly. Théodred gave a splutter
of indignation. Éomer was suddenly glad the prince had had time to swallow
the bread first.
"That's a wild exaggeration!" he seized hold of the ale jug
and poured himself another drink, glancing back at Éomer. "I merely
tied him to my bed."
The marshal raised an eyebrow. "And that works does it?"
he asked patiently. Théodred sighed, and knocked back the ale, immediately
re-filling it. Éomer could see him thinking, and waited tolerantly for
the response.
"Not everyone can be as straight-laced as you, Éomer," he
said finally and reproachfully. Éomer snorted his belief in that little
sentence.
"And not everyone has to be as perverted as you, Théodred,"
he said pointedly. Théodred grinned lazily at him and settled back in
his chair, his drink in his hand. The chair creaked with the shift in
weight. After a few moments, Éomer realised that he really didn't like
that speculative look that was currently being aimed in his direction.
"So fancy a challenge then?" Théodred queried lightly, proving
Éomer's suspicions right but bewildering him slightly by the change
of topic.
"Challenge?" Éomer echoed, suspicion laced through his words.
Théodred nodded, taking a delicate sip from his glass, his eyes never
faltering from the man in front of him.
"My technique or yours. Whoever manages to get Faramir into bed
and into a .. shall we shall compromising position, wins." Théodred
relaxed even further against his chair and watched Éomer as several
shades of red graced his features before the marshal got himself back
under control.
"Wins?" he finally asked, his voice lowered dramatically
to ensure that others at the table did not hear. He could already see
Éowyn giving them a funny look, although this was not unusual
in the slightest. Éomer was already certain his sister was a mind-reader.
"Wins what?"
Théodred grinned a wolfish grin. "Faramir for one. Or don't you
like him?" he added innocently. Éomer's flush increased ten fold.
"Well, I..,"
Théodred nodded smugly and settled back in his chair. "Thought
so."
Éomer lowered his voice even more to the extent that the elves might
have difficulty hearing. "This is hardly fair on him. Faramir's
an important visitor to these parts. What would his father say?"
Another thought crossed his mind. "What would your father
say, for that matter?"
Théodred yawned, unconcerned. "I'm well aware of Faramir's position
in life, Éomer. However, I'm also well aware that this challenge is
ultimately for his benefit. He needs a little experience, don't you
think?" Innocent eyes turned to Éomer who surveyed him suspiciously.
"You think he's a virgin?" the voice was a mere whisper at
the end. True, Faramir always looked innocent. He had a willingness
to please that normally surpassed any other man or indeed woman Éomer
had known, his eyes huge and somehow pure in these times of shadow and
chaos. However, a man who had a brother like Boromir did not seem likely
to remain innocent outside of their eighteenth birthday. Possibly earlier.
"From what I hear from his brother, yes," Théodred shrugged
as though it did not matter. Éomer's doubt grew again. He had not spent
much time with Boromir, but from the tales he had heard about the older
man's stamina this was probably a good thing. However, Éomer had a sneaking
suspicion that the elder brother did not seem the best person to judge
what someone else's emotional state was. The likihood that Boromir would
have been speculating about his brother to a third party was also doubtful
as well.
"Hmmmm," he allowed himself. Théodred shrugged again.
"Suit yourself. We'll know soon enough," The wolf smile was
back. Éomer stared at him.
"And what," he said slowly. "happens if Faramir doesn't
want either of us?"
Théodred's smile grew brighter.
"Why, Éomer! We try harder!"
Faramir was mildly surprised when received the invitation to try out
some new horses with Éomer, but this certainly was no reason to turn
the young man down. A breath of fresh air outside the city of Edoras
promised to be much more pleasant than staying inside listening to yet
another report or attend another council. He was even more surprised
at the point where Éomer suggested that they stopped off at a nearby
clearing, which, apparently, had 'beneficial natural features'.
And then the largest surprise, of course, was-
"You brought food?" Faramir stared at Éomer in honest bemusement,
blue-green eyes conveying their owner's bafflement as though it had
been shouted. Éomer smiled at him, and sat down on the grass, glancing
briefly towards the small waterfall that poured into the waiting stream.
"Always best to be prepared," he replied easily, turning
his gaze to Faramir who was still standing up. "You never know
what you might find,"
Faramir raised an eyebrow.
"For an hour's ride? How efficient of you," he commented,
before gracefully bending to sit near him. Faramir watched the waterfall
for a few moments, Éomer noticing the way the young ranger's gaze softened
now he was away from the confines of the city and back into the wilderness
where he had spent much of his life.
"What did you think of the mare?" he queried after a while.
Faramir glanced at him as though broken from a trance and gave an apologetic
sleepy smile. Faramir gave a lot of apologetic smiles, as though expecting
his very presence to offend someone. Éomer felt the brief stirrings
of protectiveness.
"She's a good ride," he replied. "Comfortable. Responsive
to my every touch .. are you okay? You've gone a little red." The
concern in his voice was obvious. Éomer coughed and looked back at the
waterfall to attempt to rid his mind of the images that Faramir's words
were busy conjuring.
"No," he said hastily. "Nothing." He pulled over
the knapsack he had brought, and began to pull out a few items of food.
At the production of the wineskin, Faramir's eyebrows shot up yet again.
"You brought wine?" The young ranger was obviously
flabbergasted. Éomer smiled in amusement.
"My efficiency obviously knows no bounds," he commented.
A smile flickered at the corner of Faramir's mouth, the young man shaking
his head slowly in fascination.
"Obviously." He held up his hand as Éomer attempted to pass
it to him. "I won't, I'm afraid. I don't drink much,"
"Really?" Éomer looked a little stunned. "Why not? Don't
like the taste?"
"I promised my brother that I wouldn't, and therefore I don't,"
Faramir's tone was regretful in the face of the freshly brought wine-skin.
Éomer chuckled to himself.
"Yeah, my sister tried something like that to me," he shrugged
and gave a rueful smile. "She hasn't bothered since."
Faramir shrugged lightly, and availed himself of one of the biscuits
that Éomer had brought along. "My brother is a little more persistent,"
he paused, thinking about it. "And has a larger weapon," he
added.
"Yeah, so I hear," Éomer replied automatically, then flushed
again as Faramir looked at him in puzzlement. "Er.. nothing. You
sure I can't tempt you?" The smile aimed at the young ranger was
one of fondness, Éomer's voice deliberately low and seductive. There
was a flash of puzzlement as Éomer's hand rested a little too long on
Faramir's shoulder. The ranger glanced at him, innocence and bewilderment
in his eyes. The feeling of protectiveness grew a little more in Éomer.
Bugger Théodred and his little challenges.
"I shouldn't," The regretfulness was there again. "But
thanks anyway," Faramir added hastily in fear he had offended him.
Éomer smiled and patted Faramir's shoulder.
"Do you have to go back to Gondor soon?" he asked once a
significant pause had been maintained. Faramir shook his head.
"I have to rejoin one of the scouting parties in a few days time."
Éomer looked surprised. "Doesn't your brother do that?" he
queried. A smile flickered across Faramir's face until he managed to
control himself.
"Father prefers him close to home. Boromir has more natural talents
when it comes to soldiers." Faramir's voice was completely neutral,
any dislike for this arrangement carefully hidden, although his eyes
flickered towards Éomer. "You can probably take that as you will,"
he said with a sigh.
Éomer looked even more surprised. "Don't you get on with soldiers?"
he queried, although remembering the times he had seen Faramir fighting,
his obvious command of his men who seemed absolutely devoted to him.
It certainly seemed odd to him.
"I've been with the rangers for so long now I don't really consider
it." Faramir shrugged. If he objected to Éomer moving closer to
him, he did not say. The ranger's fingers picked at grass blades, the
still untouched biscuit in his other hand. "I'm not used to large
formations of men constantly. And then, of course, you're expected to.,"
Éomer watched the faint flush rise to Faramir's cheeks with fascination.
".. well, I won't go into that."
"Go on," urged Éomer, taking the opportunity to move even
closer. His hand was so close to Faramir's. The ranger did not seem
to mind in the slightest. Faramir glanced at him in assessment of his
likely reaction, then lowered his voice even further as though afraid
of eavesdroppers.
"Well, it just gets a little .. rough on occasion. 'Friendships'
tend to get formed."
"And you don't like rough?" Éomer's eyes were gentle on him,
his voice soft. Faramir considered it a little longer, obviously thinking
about what to say and what to admit to. There was another gentle sigh,
as though from a puff of wind.
"I see enough roughness out in the field to wish to seek it during
my spare time," The amazing blue-green gaze was on him again, this
time curious to what Éomer would do in response. Éomer resisted the
urge to lift his hand to Faramir's face and simply nodded.
"I know what you mean," he murmured, his heart lightning
at the sight of Faramir brighten considerably at his words. The smile
from the ranger was worth many mines of mithril itself.
"I'm glad someone does," confessed the ranger. "My brother
just looks at me as though I'm mad."
Éomer was surprised at this. "I thought you got on well with your
brother?"
Faramir laughed lightly. "Oh, we do. I'd do anything for him,
and he'd do anything for me. But we're chalk and cheese. He understands
what's important to me and will respect it. However, he's not so good
at understanding why it's important to me."
"If you ever needed to talk.," Éomer trailed off the murmur,
his hand now touching the ranger's hand, his eyes scanning Faramir's.
The ranger looked grateful, then suddenly glanced to the side, his posture
stiffening.
"What's that?" his eyes were on the bushes, his body already
moving to a defensive position. Éomer dragged his eyes away from Faramir's
tunic to look towards the direction the ranger was facing, frowning
slightly. Faramir glanced back at him, moving to stand.
"You expecting a unit through here?" the ranger asked in
a low voice. Éomer shook his head, moving up himself, his hand on the
hilt of his sword. Faramir was already ready, his posture ready for
battle. The tension was suddenly broken by Faramir's mare raising her
head and whickering softly to the approaching horses. Éomer groaned
softly to himself.
"Oh, you are kidding me.,"
Faramir also relaxed slightly as the lead horse came into view. "Théodred."
The Prince eyed Faramir's hand on the hilt of his sword, and raised
a surprised gaze to Faramir's. "You about to attack us, my lord
Faramir?"
Faramir flushed and immediately dropped his hand. "My apologises.
You startled us."
"What are you doing here, Théodred?" Éomer's voice was steady
and entirely unimpressed. Théodred shifted his gaze to the marshal,
and smiled politely. Not a trace of the smugness showed in his grin.
It was all too clear in his eyes though.
"There's been a few rumours of orc sightings in these parts. Thought
we'd give you an escort." Théodred's voice was pure helpfulness.
Éomer eyed him stonily.
"Out of the goodness of your heart, no doubt," he commented
dryly. Théodred winked at him slightly.
"Probably."
Faramir, who had glanced between the pair in puzzlement at their words,
focused a little harder on Théodred.
"We thank you for your concern, my lord."
Théodred studied him thoughtfully, before nodding and giving Faramir
a warm smile. Éomer ground his teeth silently.
"It's no trouble." The prince's eyes found Éomer's again,
the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. "Glad to help."
Éomer passed Théodred's horse as they went to their own. "Rumours?"
he muttered as he passed.
"Well, there were," Théodred's voice was equally low, his
eyes watching Faramir as he mounted the mare he had been riding.
"Yeah." Éomer's look was full of disgust. "And who started
them, cousin?"
Théodred glanced back down at him, a look of mock insult crossing his
expression. "I don't know what you mean!" His eyes sparkled
as he looked back at Faramir. Raising his voice a little, he called
out. "My Lord Faramir! Would you do me the honour tonight of trying
a few ales I have recently purchased?"
Faramir looked up, surprised and slightly flustered by all the attention.
His eyes sought Éomer's briefly before turning to Théodred. "I'm
afraid I don't drink much,"
"Boromir insisted," murmured Éomer. Théodred glanced down
at him, shrugged and looked back at Faramir.
"Well, you can help taste them can you not? Boromir cannot be
that determined, surely?"
There was a look of indecision that crossed Faramir's face before he
nodded slowly. "I suppose I could," he replied.
Théodred smiled. "Good lad,"
"Lad?" echoed Faramir incredulously, then managed to cover
his amusement skilfully. "Anyway, what time did you have in mind?"
Théodred tapped his finger lightly on the saddle. "After the evening
meal? Give you time to recover,"
Faramir looked baffled. "Recover from what, exactly?" he
queried. Théodred shrugged carelessly.
"Oh, I'm sure something will crop up, eh, Éomer?"
The marshal ground his teeth again. "Possibly," he growled.
Faramir looked between the two men again, a faint frown on his face,
then kicked on his mare.
"Well, if we don't want to encounter these orcs.?" he commented
softly. Théodred nodded.
"Very wise. Come on Éomer."
Growling to himself, Éomer followed with a look of thunder and a distinct
desire to kick Théodred hard.
The something that Théodred had queried failed to crop up. Éomer found
himself caught up in the usual city politics as soon as he had set boot
on cobblestone, and was unable to speak to Faramir until the evening
meal. Théodred had made certain that he himself was sitting directly
next to the young ranger and was speaking about the defences at the
borders when Éomer finally made his entrance.
He was cheered by the sight of Faramir smiling towards him, before
a more neutral expression crossed over the ranger's face as he listened
to the prince beside him. An untouched plate of food sat in front of
him.
By the Valar, thought Éomer. Does the man ever eat?
He was even more cheered when Théodred turned the talk onto soldiering
and units, as he so often did. He smiled into his cup of ale at Faramir's
wink towards him. Perhaps all was not lost after all. Théodred caught
the smirk and frowned.
"So, Lord Faramir," he turned slightly to face the ranger,
who was toying with a bread roll in front of him. "you're still
game for tonight?"
Faramir ripped the bread roll in front of him into small pieces, idly
watching it. Innocent eyes turned to Théodred.
"Certainly I am," he agreed. Théodred smiled to himself,
his eyes flickering to Éomer whilst he picked up a chicken leg.
"That's good. Although you best eat something, ranger. It might
be a long night,"
Faramir looked surprised. "You have a great deal of ale to get
through?" he queried. Théodred grinned again, a wolf amongst the
sheep.
"You could say that," Théodred's eyes fell onto the pile
of breadcrumbs that Faramir was making, and frowned. "You are aware
that goes in your mouth aren't you?"
Faramir looked apologetic. "I fear I am not yet hungry,"
Théodred smiled and patted the man on the shoulder. "Never fear,
I'm sure we can find you something to increase your appetite. In fact,"
he smiled towards him. "We might as well go now, before the singing
starts. If Éomer does not mind."
"Of course not." Éomer was almost ready to start shredding
things himself as he watched them get up from the table, Faramir smiling
at him again before following Théodred towards his chambers. Growling
to himself, the marshal settled down to getting seriously drunk.
The walk to Théodred's chambers was unremarkably short. Faramir glanced
back at the prince as they approached the doors to his chambers, the
light of the corridor casting shadows across Théodred's face making
him take on a more demonic expression. Faramir frowned, his expression
more wary. The prince patted his shoulder again.
"Don't worry," he soothed. "No one's going to eat you."
Faramir gave an embarrassed snort of amusement. "Of course not,"
He hesitated briefly before following Théodred into his chambers. The
prince glanced back at him and waved his hand generally towards the
chairs.
"Have a seat. I'll get you a glass."
However, the ranger remained standing. Théodred glanced back to notice
that Faramir's shocked eyes were fixed on the headboard of the bed,
where his restraints were still fastened. The prince cursed his memory
and gave a light chuckle to try and smooth things over.
"Decorative, aren't they?" he passed Faramir a glass. Wary
eyes stared back at him, although Théodred was pleased to note a little
curiosity was now mixed into that. He nodded to the untouched glass
in Faramir's hand. "Drink also goes in mouth," he added helpfully.
Faramir's eyes were dragged back to the prince. "Just drink it?
I thought you had to take time to consider the body," his voice
was absent-minded.
Théodred smiled wolfishly. "Oh, I've considered the body."
He grinned. "Trust me on that," Eyes fixed on Faramir, he
drank his own drink slowly. After a hesitation, Faramir did the same.
The ranger frowned towards his glass.
"I'm not sure I liked that. Too dry," he commented. Théodred
nodded and passed him another.
"Try that one." He watched as Faramir took an experimental
swig, his next question as mild as a kitten. "So why don't you
drink, by the way?"
The embarrassment on Faramir's face was far too clear. "I thought
you knew." He sighed. "Boromir doesn't approve of it,"
he said reluctantly. Théodred nodded thoughtfully.
"It's sweet he looks out for you," he offered. Faramir scowled
towards him, the mutinous expression of a twelve year old banned from
climbing his favourite tree.
"Sweet but bloody annoying."
Théodred played with the glass in his hand idly. "I bet he's like
that with everything eh?" he asked casually. "Drinking. fighting..,"
his eyes flickered up. ".. partners.," he added softly.
Faramir froze, his eyes as wide as a hunted deer's. Tense blue-green
eyes met the casual gaze of Théodred's.
"Partners?" he echoed. Théodred cocked his head to one side,
studying the man in front of him.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Don't you do that either?" the wolfish smile
played at the corner of his mouth. Faramir was obviously flustered,
a light flush already having risen to his face. Théodred felt faintly
guilty for bringing it up. But only faintly; the burning desire to bed
this innocent was a little too strong for mere guilt to conquer.
"Well.. I.," Faramir obviously didn't know what to say or
where to look. Théodred put down his glass and advanced, his eyes fixed
on Faramir as though the ranger might just turn tail and bolt from the
room.
"It's not a crime to enjoy yourself, Faramir. To enjoy your body,"
the prince's eyes flickered over the wonder of said body, lean and fit
from constant exercise. The Gondorian seemed even more flustered than
before, his eyes showing signs of nervousness.
"What?" the ranger tried to make his voice reflect some type
of humour, although this failed to turn up. "Now?"
Théodred took the glass from Faramir's unresisting hand and put it
down on the nearby table. "Yes. Now." He cocked his head to
the side again, studying him. "You want to try?" he purred.
Faramir's eyes were full of misgivings. "I suppose..," he
trailed off. Théodred wondered briefly how much of this agreement was
to ensure that the ranger didn't insult the prince of Rohan, before
that too was overshadowed by the sheer closeness of the ranger's body.
He could smell Faramir's scent, could almost feel the trembling.
"Have you ever been with a man before?" the prince breathed.
Faramir's eyes flickered to his, then moved on again. Théodred smiled
inwardly. So it was true! Untouched. This was going to be an experience
for both of them. The prince ran his hand down Faramir's cheek, feeling
the slightest of flinches, the wide eyes resting back on him as though
pleading with him to be gentle.
"It's okay," Théodred said fondly. "I'll show you what
to do,"
"Where?" Faramir's voice was breathless. Théodred smiled
at him then took his unresisting hand and moved him towards the bed,
sitting down and patting the space beside him.
"Come sit down."
Faramir remained standing, looking down at him doubtfully. "Don't
you get undressed first?" he asked hesitantly. Théodred looked
at him, then chuckled softly.
"My little impatient ranger!" he shook his head, and stripped
his clothes off carefully, dumping them on the floor. Faramir's breath
almost stopped entirely at the sight of the naked male in front of him,
Théodred's erection showing exactly how he felt about the situation.
Wide blue-green eyes raised to meet the prince's. Swallowing, Faramir
slowly removed his tunic, placing it down on the pile that Théodred
had already started. The prince could see the ranger's eyes flicker
to the restraints again, as though fascinated by what they represented.
Faramir looked back down at him, his breeches still tight to his body.
Théodred could see his fast breathing, the controlled excitement of
the young man, and smiled to himself.
"Can . can you lie down for me, so I can see you?" Faramir's
voice was timid, as though expecting Théodred to deny him. Théodred
smiled at him, and nodded.
"Anything for my little ranger," he moved himself onto the
bed, and watched as Faramir overcame his shyness and move towards the
restraints, fingering the silken ropes in wonder. Nervous and embarrassed
eyes met the prince's once more.
"Where do they go?"
"Wrists. There's some at the bottom too for ankles, but I don't
tend to use them," Théodred found each shocked look from Faramir
managed to go straight to his groin. Faramir looked at the restraint,
then hesitantly took hold of Théodred's wrist, his eyes on him in a
silent plea. Théodred nodded, visions of what he could do to Faramir
already rising in his mind as the softness of the silk nestled against
the skin of his wrist as Faramir experimented. A bound virgin, waiting
for his touch. the prince gave a delicate shiver and focused on the
situation. "If you want to try.,"
He trailed off, realising exactly how tightly Faramir had bound him.
He stared in surprise at the ranger. Faramir stared steadily back. The
shyness, the nervousness and the embarrassment had disappeared entirely.
A slow, lazy and undeniably predatory stare looked back at him, the
innocent blue-green eyes having turned into something much more sinister
whilst Théodred's mind was on other matters. A gag was forced into his
mouth before the prince could even speak.
"You know," Faramir ran his tongue over his lips and leaned
towards Théodred, his tone conversational. "You really make it
easy for me." He winked and stretched lightly, looking back at
the bound prince in amusement. "Now, you just stay put for me,
there's a good boy. I just need to get someone."
There was an angry muffle from the bed. Théodred struggled to get free,
but Faramir's knots were too good. The ranger watched him indifferently
for a few moments, before patting the tiring prince on the head.
"I assume that was something rude you just said. And me with my
innocent ears," Faramir gave him a sorrowful, innocent look, then
laughed and walked towards the door. He glanced back. "See you
Théodred. Oh. and make yourself comfy, eh?"
The sounds of cursing followed him from the room.
Éomer was finishing off the last of a bottle of wine when Faramir almost
crept into the room towards where the rider sat alone. A rough tunic
badly covered the ranger's chest, although Éomer could see almost everything
as it flapped open. The look in the man's eyes was one of sheer nervousness,
of embarrassment. Éomer cursed Théodred in his mind and moved swiftly
towards him.
"Faramir!" he said in a low voice that did not stop the urgency.
He looked down at the hasty garment and back up again. "What has
happened?"
The ranger glanced towards the others in the room, but they were all
busy with their own conversations. A song was being sung in a corner,
covering most of their discussions. Only Éowyn seemed to notice
their appearance, but she merely contented herself with a long hard
look towards the pair. Faramir looked back at him, the embarrassment
clear in his gaze.
"Théodred. He .. well, he had a little too much to drink and too
little to eat..," Faramir flushed uncomfortably. "and he ..
well, he started doing certain things. Could you help me?"
An earnest, worried expression turned to him. Éomer resisted the urge
to pull the ranger into his arms. Faramir was too upset and certain
sisters were watching..
"Okay," he sighed, feeling slightly sick himself. "Where
is he?"
Faramir took hold of one of Éomer's hands and led him back swiftly.
He glanced back at Éomer worriedly.
"He might not be in the usual mood you see him in," he warned.
Éomer nodded impatiently, already thinking of the argument he was going
to have with the prince. He knew it would scare Faramir! Théodred's
tactics had a lot to be desired.
"Don't worry," he replied grimly. "I've seen him in
most circumstances,"
Having pushed open the door he marched into the chambers. His mouth
opened automatically to shout something then froze as he took in the
bound figure on the bed. The door shut carefully behind him.
"Really?" said Faramir's voice, all trace of nervousness
vanished. " Most circumstances you say?"
Éomer turned round to see Faramir pocket the key to the room, the ranger's
eyes level on Éomer's in curiosity. Faramir prowled around Éomer as
though he was desperate not to stay still, although a casual and most
of all amused air still surrounded him, making his way to the bed where
he studied the bound prince thoughtfully.
Éomer found his voice. "What's going on?" he asked in a shaky
tone. Faramir looked up at him incredulously.
"You mean you don't know?" the amusement was clear. "Would
you like me to draw a diagram?"
The marshal took a few steps towards Théodred, who was glaring towards
him. He looked in bewilderment at Faramir.
"But you're .,"
"What?" Faramir's grin was that of a predator. "Innocent?
Sweet? Inexperienced?" The ranger laughed in genuine amusement
that held no trace of nerves whatsoever. "The respect you two have
for me is incredible, isn't it?"
"We didn't mean any harm," Éomer watched him carefully. Faramir
grinned at him.
"You immediately want to bed every cute innocent creature you
see, do you?" An eyebrow was raised. "remind me never to buy
you a kitten,"
Éomer stared at him, still trying to place this confident sexual creature
with the shy and nervous Faramir Rohan had known before. "You mean
all that talk about soldiers and roughness was just made up?"
He was treated to a genuine wide-eyed expression as Faramir stared
at him for a few moments then laughed. "You mean you believed me?!
Bless!" The ranger chuckled to himself and shook his head. "I
was trained by the Ithilien rangers. They spend long times away from
the cities and family, miles away from anyone but your mate and your
enemy. And trust me, the rangers have better things they want to do
at night than play chess," There was a rueful smile.
Another muffled curse came from Théodred but they both ignored him.
The Gondorian looked at Éomer thoughtfully.
"I am the son of Denethor and brother to Boromir," Faramir
said softly, his eyes curious on Éomer to see how he would react. "How
long d'you think sweet and innocent lasts for in that family?"
The man was silent. Relenting slightly, Faramir put his arm around
him, pleased that Éomer did not attempt to shrug him off.
"Do you not wish to play with me now you know I might not be as
innocent as you imagined?" his voice was soft. Éomer didn't move.
"Does Boromir know about this?" he asked after a few moments
pause. Faramir laughed.
"What, you think he banned the alcohol to protect my health?"
the ranger paused to think about this. "Or perhaps he did, after
a fashion."
"Oh," The voice was small. Éomer could feel Faramir pressing
up against him in a manner that he himself would have liked to have
done to the ranger whilst they had been at the waterfall, Faramir's
breath on his neck, his fingers stroking him gently through the fabric.
Blue-green eyes turned up to him in encouragement.
"I'd play you to play, Éomer." Faramir scanned the rider's
eyes thoughtfully, his voice sincere. "If you want."
"I don't know anymore. You're not the man I knew," Éomer
knew his voice was a little on the harsh side, but couldn't help himself.
Faramir moved back a little, allowing the rider to retreat if he wanted.
Éomer knew damn well he didn't want to. This did not mean, however,
that he was prepared to take rubbish from a Gondorian. Faramir's eyes
were wary on him.
"You mean you want some child to stare up at you with shining
eyes, thinking how wonderful and brave you are? I'm not that person,
Éomer." Faramir leaned forward, planting a kiss on Éomer's neck
and feeling the man shiver against him. He smiled to himself. "But
if you want, I'll let you take command,"
Éomer felt his resistance leaving as Faramir continued to kiss his
neck, his hands playing on Éomer's chest.
"But it was all lies. All an act," Éomer felt that certain
things shouldn't be forgotten.
Faramir paused, mid-kiss. "Act, no. Defence, possibly." He
began to kiss him again, taking in the scent of the man against him
with pleasure. The ranger's hand crept to the rider's breeches. "But
let's not talk about it now, eh? Théodred might get impatient."
Éomer's hand slapped down on Faramir's questing hand, stopping it dead.
His eyes studied Faramir's.
"I thought I was in charge?" he said softly. Faramir chuckled
to himself and withdrew his hand, bowing his head slightly as a mark
of respect.
"Of course, my lord. Whatever you wish," The sparkle in his
eyes firmly suggested that said wish was likely to be done through Faramir's
own interpretation. However Éomer did not care about this. His main
focus was simply to get Faramir's clothing in a messy pile on the floor,
ripping the badly fitting tunic even more in his haste. Faramir kicked
off his breeches which were yanked down by Éomer's frantic hands, pressing
back against him as soon as they were clear. Éomer was aware of the
burning heat of Faramir's length pressed against him.
"Get on the bed and make Théodred comfortable," Éomer found
his voice was breathless. He grabbed hold of Faramir as the ranger made
to move, pulling him into a deep kiss before giving him a little shove
towards the bed. A slap on the right buttock encouraged the ranger to
move faster, although blue-green eyes glanced back at him over his shoulders
in doubt of the exact order that had been given.
"Let him loose?" Faramir's voice was cautious, not knowing
whether the prince of Rohan was likely to strike out at him. Éomer smiled
to himself and shook his head.
"Did I say that? Just see to his needs."
Smirking to himself, he watched as Faramir turned his attention back
to the man still tied to the bed. Théodred had been mostly silent, watching
them, knowing that whoever won that little exchange was likely to be
ordering him about. A faint scowl turned itself to Faramir who casually
and gracefully got on the bed, straddling the man's thighs, and took
the prince deep into his mouth without warning at all.
"Mmmphfh!!!" Théodred's back arched. The muffled yell filled
the room. Faramir took no notice at all, working the man's erection
skilfully and with obvious pleasure. Éomer strolled to the bed and carefully
took the gag from Théodred's mouth.
"By the Valar!" gasped the young prince, his breath already
coming in short fast pants. He groaned again as Faramir took him as
deep as he could, then got his fuzzy mind back under control. "I
swear I'll make you pay for this, Faramir of Gondor!"
The ranger paused, giving the head of Théodred's cock a lazy lick like
a cat with cream, and grinned at the prone body. "I only did to
you what you were going to do to me." He protested lightly, then
glanced towards Éomer. "Sweet, innocent virgin me,"
he added in a soft voice, then chuckled in amusement to himself again,
pausing to lick Théodred again. The man shuddered underneath him. "You're
a big boy, Théodred. Live with it."
"Enough talking," growled Éomer.
"Yes, my lord," Faramir's posture was suddenly more submissive,
although the rider could see the amusement in his eyes. A wicked grin
was gracing the ranger's features. "I won't, therefore, comment
on how he wanted to spread me open and fuck me raw whilst I whimpered
into that gag there. Neither will I mention how he wanted to run his
tongue over my flesh until I begged him to let me come. None of that
shall pass my lips."
Éomer's eyes slid to Théodred who had gone a little silent. Obviously
Boromir had been talking more than Théodred had considered.
"Oh, I am still going to make you whimper, Faramir," the
prince growled finally. "Just possibly not with passion,"
"Théodred, behave," warned Éomer, and turned in time to see
Faramir's smug smile. "Faramir, get on with it." The blue-green
gaze flickered to him, then the ranger was back at work. Théodred's
ability to form sentences was suddenly extremely hampered.
As Faramir continued, interjected by the occasional groan from Théodred,
Éomer took the opportunity to wander around the bed, simply watching.
He was aware Faramir was keeping a close eye on him through the strands
of copper-gold hair that hung down his face, and deliberately made sure
he moved towards the ranger's blind spot behind him. There was the briefest
of pauses as Faramir considered his options, then simply continued with
what he was doing.
Éomer's eyes were drawn to the picture in front of him; Faramir's smooth
flanks were presented to him as the man worked, occasionally bending
over further in a silent invitation. The marshal began to grin to himself.
Everyone else seemed to be quite happy to listen to their temptations.
Faramir jumped at Éomer's touch on his backside, and began to glance
over his shoulder.
"Don't stop, Faramir," warned Éomer. Faramir hesitated again,
then obeyed. How grudgingly this was done Éomer wasn't entirely sure,
but the order was being done and that was the main thing. It was hardly
as though Faramir had no option to stop if he so wished. The marshal's
hand absent-mindedly stroked the Gondorian underneath his palm, feeling
Faramir tremble against him. With a mischievous smile on his face, Éomer
let his hand drift downwards a little until he stroked between Faramir's
thighs. The ranger reacted as though he had been burned.
Théodred chuckled breathlessly. "Not so cool as you make out,
eh, Farrie?"
The ranger gave him a particular look and growled his opinion on this
matter. However, it only took a moment for Faramir to recover enough
to begin tormenting the prince under his control once again. Éomer smiled
to himself again as he carefully retrieved a bottle of oil from the
top of Théodred's chests and carefully anointed his fingers, his breeches
having already been unlaced and dumped unceremoniously onto the floor.
Faramir's willpower was obviously on full power but even this was not
strong enough to stop the groan in the back of the ranger's throat as
Éomer's finger slid inside him. Faramir's actions on Théodred's body
suddenly slowed dramatically, his concentration split between two places.
Théodred was more than aware what had happened. He grinned at Éomer
over Faramir's shoulder.
"If you going to fuck him, fuck him hard," he advised. Faramir
gave him another evil look through eyelashes and deliberately slowed
his actions further in retaliation to Théodred's Helpful Hints. Éomer
chuckled lightly, slowly sliding another finger into the ranger, watching
how Faramir's body surrounded him in welcome.
"Probably not the wisest move to taunt the guy with his teeth
round your cock," he remarked. Théodred made a thoughtful noise,
unable to say much as Faramir's tongue flickered over him again. After
Éomer had added another finger with no protest from the ranger he began
to pick up speed. Or at least, Faramir attempted to pick up speed for
him, pressing back against the fingers in encouragement and spreading
his legs further. There was another amused chuckle.
"Impatient sod," Éomer commented fondly. However, who was
he to turn him down?
Faramir arched his back as Éomer lined himself up and pushed slowly
into him, feeling Faramir's muscles first resist the invasion then grudgingly
allow him access. The speed that he entered suddenly increased as Faramir
pushed back with determination, burying Éomer up to the hilt in his
body. Éomer raised an eyebrow and tried to recover his nerves. Right.
If this was the way Faramir wanted to do it.
The ranger had to keep a firm control over his expression as Éomer
slammed back into him. After a few more moments, Faramir found his rhythm
with the marshal and his own actions on Théodred, although he was now
milking Théodred for all he was worth, teasing completely forgotten.
The prince groaned in the back of his throat, partly through the expert
skills of Faramir and partly due to the sexual performance in front
of him.
Éomer wore an expression of extreme determination as he thrust into
the ranger in front of him, his concentration to the extent that Théodred
doubted whether Éomer would notice should a group of orcs suddenly charge
through the door. The prince himself was unable to hold on any further
at Faramir's low feel-it-in-the-bone moan that went directly to his
groin, a cry issuing from Théodred as he came down Faramir's throat.
The ranger licked the exhausted prince swiftly, then simply shut his
eyes and focused a little more on Éomer behind him. Faramir balanced
carefully to allow himself to touch his aching erection, which was not
as easy as it first looked. Éomer's thrusts, honed through years of
bareback riding, were strong and determined. The bed kept moving with
the shifts of weight. No, not easy at all, but by the Valar did it need
to be done.
Éomer was suddenly aware of Faramir's intentions.
"Don't touch yourself," he growled. There was a look of mutiny
that crossed Faramir's face before, with a sigh, he put his hand back
on the bed. Théodred laughed to himself.
"Pity I'm all tied up. Otherwise I might have helped you,"
Faramir opened his eyes briefly to aim yet another evil glare at the
prince, then shut it again as Éomer slammed slightly harder into him,
knowing exactly what rude message Faramir would be transmitting.
"Bastards," the ranger muttered to himself. Another hard
thrust went into him.
"What was that?" Éomer could get used to this sexual command
business. Faramir gasped, and shook his head slightly.
"Nothing," he managed.
Théodred was watching in avid enthusiasm. "Doesn't look so experienced
now, does he?" he grinned. Éomer managed to obtain enough spare
energy to give him a look himself.
"And who, dear cousin, is currently tied to a bed?" he asked
pointedly. He didn't hear Théodred's retort as the pleasure increased
again inside him, reaching to almost unbearable levels within him. Éomer
tried to slow down but Faramir had other ideas; feeling the marshal
stiffen against him, he squeezed his muscles and met Éomer's thrusts
harder and harder. There was little Éomer could do against such a determined
partner except the inevitable. He slammed into Faramir once more before
coming hard, his hands tightening on Faramir's body as he came, a groan
escaping past clenched teeth.
Sliding out of the ranger, Éomer almost slid to the floor entirely,
his legs refusing to carry the weight. He could hear Faramir's heavy
breathing, the ranger's head bowed as though in some type of prayer,
sweat glistening on his back. Éomer ran his hand over the ranger's back
as he moved shakily towards the head of the bed to release Théodred.
Too late Faramir realised Éomer's intentions. His head snapped up,
cautious eyes on Théodred, knowing that any escape routes were so very
unlikely to work. Théodred slowly rubbed his wrists, smiling at Faramir
who was still positioned over the prince's groin, although now his eyes
were fixed on the prince as though a startled rabbit spotting a wolf.
"Right," there was an almost evil glimmer to Théodred's eyes.
Éomer coughed lightly.
"You touch him without my say-so and you're back in the restraints,"
he warned. Théodred looked incredulously towards Éomer then hungrily
back at Faramir.
"I see," he purred.
Faramir had finally moved to a better spot on the bed, although his
expression was still of one who wasn't entirely sure whether his future
was as rosy as he would have liked.
"Ganging up on me? That's not fair.," he murmured. Éomer
raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Was I supposed to be fair?" he grinned happily.
The hungry look still had not disappeared from Théodred's eyes but Éomer
was sure his cousin wasn't likely to start being uncontrollable on him.
Obviously Faramir was a little more cautious about this optimism by
his expression.
"Can I touch him yet?" Théodred asked, a little impatiently.
Éomer sighed to himself. Being in command definitely had its disadvantages,
not least that it seemed to allow everyone else to regress several years.
"You still after revenge?" Faramir queried towards the prince,
sliding off the bed as he spoke. Éomer raised his head at this unauthorised
movement.
"You wait there, Faramir."
After a moments indecision, the ranger reluctantly stayed put, groaning
to himself softly. Éomer was aware of Théodred leaning closer to him.
"I've got some great toys if he wants to play," he murmured
into his cousin's ear. "How about it?"
Faramir's expression managed to get even warier, the prey who had seen
the first flashes of the hounds. Éomer shook his head.
"Maybe later," he replied. Théodred sighed and rolled his
eyes.
"Can I get to be in charge 'later'?" he queried dryly. Éomer
turned his head to look at him steadily.
"Depends whether you find yourself tied to a bed in the meantime,"
he replied, pleasantly. Théodred eyed him back thoughtfully, then laughed
and glanced back at Faramir who had taken the opportunity to edge away
from the bed again, although his hand had managed to drift down to stroke
himself, trying to get some type of release as soon as possible. Éomer
noticed this too.
"Impatient again?" he asked pointedly. Faramir sighed and
stopped what he was doing.
"Impatience is a family trait," he replied, dryly. Théodred
grinned wider.
"You trying to retreat, Farrie?" the prince queried.
Faramir gave him a disdainful look. "Rangers never retreat. We
tactically manoeuvre," he replied. "And you call me Farrie
again and you'll have more than the bed to worry about,"
"Feisty," murmured Théodred in approval and gave another
sideways look towards Éomer. "Can I touch him now?"
"Are you going to whine that every few seconds?" Éomer sighed.
Théodred shrugged idly.
"Probably." Théodred obviously had no regrets in this department.
Éomer sighed heavily again and patted his cousin's back.
"So," he queried lightly. "When was the last time you
bottomed, Théodred?"
Théodred stared at him with dawning suspicion. Faramir, in contrast,
straightened slightly, a cocky grin appearing on his face.
"What?" asked Théodred slowly.
"Was the question too hard for you. Theo?" Faramir
had a definitely smug aspect to his voice. Éomer sighed again.
"Faramir, unless you want to find yourself in an awkward position,
shush," he said mildly. Faramir shushed obediently, although still
couldn't completely rein in the amused look in his eyes. Théodred, meanwhile,
was giving Éomer one of the most incredulous looks the marshal had ever
seen in his life.
"You can't be serious. I don't bottom," the prince declared.
Éomer looked startled, and glanced towards Faramir as though in confirmation.
"Not even Boromir?"
The ranger shrugged lightly. "My brother likes having the opportunity
not to have to make all the decisions once in a while," he replied,
unruffled by the question. Éomer nodded slowly.
"Oh." Shaking himself mentally, Éomer focused on the task
in hand and gave a determined look at Théodred who was definitely in
sulk mode. However, sulk was so much more different than distress. "Anyway,
it's my decision."
"I don't like your rules," protested Théodred.
"Funny that. Faramir, do you like the rules?"
"Sound fine to me," Faramir grinned. Théodred gave him an
evil look, then turned back to Éomer, who, after all, was closer.
"Just because he's happy to do it constantly doesn't mean I am!"
Faramir's back straightened further, a dark expression appearing on
the ranger's face. "And what does that mean?" he growled softly.
Éomer held his hand up to try and stop the exchange of evil stares.
"Children! Please!"
Faramir gave Théodred one last meaningful glare, then grumbled to himself
and relaxed again. Or at least slightly. Now there was a real danger
of two sulks for the price of one.
Éomer was about to speak again when Théodred beat him to it. Having
slid off the bed, he moved determinedly towards Faramir, whose immediate
reaction was mistrust, taking a step backwards. However, at Théodred
pulling him closer and Faramir's lips captured in a long kiss, the mistrust
ebbed away as quickly as Faramir's groin stepped up the agonies. Théodred's
hand drifted over Faramir's aching erection lightly, pleased at the
indrawn breath by Faramir.
"Oh Valar yes," murmured the ranger desperately and tried
to grind himself against Théodred's warm and slightly sticky body.
"Théodred.?" Éomer's sigh was heard by both of the men but
neither of them were in the position to consider stopping. Théodred
finally paused long enough to get some more oxygen, and glanced over
his shoulder.
"You want me to bottom, don't you? Well, these are the preliminaries."
"Hmmmm," Éomer's expression was not convinced. Théodred grinned,
and turned to reface Faramir. The ranger smiled sweetly, and suddenly
altered the rules yet again. With the speed of a striking snake, the
ranger had pushed Théodred firmly backwards onto the bed, following
swiftly and getting the man into the right position with a mixture of
luck, speed, skill and strength. Théodred, face down on the bed with
a ranger pinning him, was not happy.
"Faramir, you little-!"
"I'm sorry? Were you planning something else?" Faramir's
voice was so innocent it suggested that his primary hobby was making
daisy chains. Théodred struggled again but the ranger was far too prepared
for something like that. The prince stopped bothering after a minute,
preferring to save his energy.
"As it happens, yes," he growled in answer through a mouthful
of blanket. Faramir moved himself slightly closer to Théodred's ear.
"Tough," he murmured. His eyes flickered back to Éomer, who
was watching them in disapproval. Suddenly his expression was apologetic,
voice dipping in support of this. "As long as it is what my lord
requests?"
Éomer eyed him back, then rolled his eyes and nodded. Faramir smiled
again, the wolfish expression returning into his gaze, before moving
back and nipping the back of Théodred's neck. His hands were already
wandering over Théodred's back, their touch managing to rid the prince
of any thought of retaliation. Éomer suddenly realised how careful Faramir
was actually taking it.
"Don't worry," he commented. "Just because he says he
doesn't does not mean he hasn't,"
"Traitor!" called out Théodred, but his voice was amused.
Faramir nodded and stepped up the attack. Éomer moved forwards a little
further, watching what Faramir was doing in fascination.
"Hey, since I won the challenge, it's only fair," Éomer replied
to Théodred's little protest. There was an immediate snort of disagreement
from Théodred swiftly followed by a gasp as sensitive areas were grazed
by Faramir's questing hands.
"You didn't win the challenge! I got him into the bedroom,"
managed Théodred when he was able to speak again.
"Actually, I got you into the bed," murmured Faramir
helpfully, taking hold of the oil bottle that Éomer passed to him. There
was a noise from Théodred that was probably in disgust, although the
touch on his backside managed to turn it into something quite different.
"The challenge was the first person to get Faramir into a compromising
position!"
Éomer moved a little closer. "I had my cock up his arse. How compromising
did you want?" he pointed out. Faramir nodded in support.
"I have to admit that was somewhat compromising," he added.
"A little like this, incidentally..,"
Théodred's moan as a finger was inserted was nothing compared to the
groan he gave as Faramir flicked his finger inside him.
"Yes, well, I.," Théodred's whole argument was halted as
Faramir quested further. Éomer played with his cousin's hair, watching
Faramir explore.
"I won, Théodred. Possibly unfairly, but I won."
"Possibly?!" squeaked Théodred in outrage. Éomer
shared a grin with Faramir. "I still say he only got here cause
of-"
The Gondorian flickered his fingers again, causing the protest to die
completely and for Faramir to focus a little more on his task in hand.
Ah, thought Éomer. If only it was that easy and that quick to shut
up Théodred in a council meeting. Now, where were those toys Théodred
was talking about?
The Gondorian had left a few days later to meet with his unit, carrying
the scroll that King Théoden had carefully worded to go back to Denethor.
By this time, their evening together was obviously an open secret. The
noise of their union had almost ensured that someone would overhear
at some point during the long night, and certainly many different tales
were busy working their way round the Great Hall.
Théoden had managed to keep his comments to himself in the face of
Faramir's obvious approval of the situation with his son and his nephew.
Equally he could not bring himself to chastise such an innocent young
man. It was clearly obvious who out of the party was responsible for
leading Denethor's youngest child astray, and clearly obvious that steps
had to be taken.
Later that day, Théodred was still in a very bad mood.
"I cannot believe we got the blame for that!"
"Sometimes, Théodred, you have no imagination whatsoever. And,
considering the amount of toys and games in your room, that makes you
extremely special."
"Shut up Éomer and pass me the bucket."
The bucket was passed. A horse whickered softly, and was answered by
another. There was a groan from the prince.
"How many more stables do we need to do?"
Éomer paused in his work to consider it. "About twenty."
There was a sigh from Théodred, followed by the statement that had
been proclaimed so many times since their punishment had been decided
upon that morning.
"I'm going to kill Faramir next time I see him."
Apparently the art of diplomacy might be dead after all.
END
