Chapter 1
"Such a thing will never be tolerated," Eomer said sadly, shaking his head.
It was the third day that Aragorn and Boromir had been enjoying the hospitality of Edoras, and on this particular afternoon, Aragorn was studying maps with Eomer while Boromir was with Theoden King, supposedly to discuss matters of relations between Rohan and Gondor. Aragorn suspected however, with a fond smile at the very thought, that Boromir also was using this as an excuse to spend more time with Merry, whom the Gondorian was quite fond of. Merry was steadier and less impulsive than his younger cousin, Pippin, but still was never lacking in that typical Hobbit cheer and enjoyment of life.
Now, Aragorn's smile faded as he turned to address Eomer's dark words. "I will be King. If I wish it tolerated, then it will be so."
The Third Marshal of Rohan had confronted Aragorn that very day about his relationship with Boromir. Evidently, as Aragorn had expected, his nocturnal romps with his rather enthusiastic lover had not gone unnoticed. Eomer did not condemn their actions at all. It seemed that the culture of Rohan did not find dalliances between same-sex partners either shocking or distasteful. On the contrary, it seemed almost a normal part of life to them. An attitude which Gondor.......as Boromir well knew and which Aragorn was quickly discovering............did not share in.
"You may decree that such lifestyles will be accepted within the boundaries of Gondor," Eomer said quietly. "But you cannot force the people to change their attitudes. Long has such behavior been considered taboo in that country, and it will take many generations before its people forget such a thing." Now his hazel eyes softened as he stepped closer to Aragorn and said, "Generations that you and Boromir do not have. You are not the Elves. You may both have the blood of Numenor in your veins, Aragorn, but neither of you shall live forever."
"I care not what people think about me," Aragorn said dismissively, though his blue eyes were troubled. "I will be a good King to them, and shower them with wealth and peace and prosperity, and they will soon forget what goes on behind closed doors."
"Yes, you may not need to have a care for yourself, Aragorn, 'tis true," Eomer mused. "But what of your hostage to fortune? What agonies will Boromir have to suffer?"
Aragorn's head whipped around to stare hard at the soldier of Rohan, his blue eyes narrowing dangerously.
Eomer merely held the Ranger's gaze and went on. "You will be a newcomer to the White City. Aragorn the King is known by legends alone, but Aragorn the man remains a mystery to them. And it is in this mystery that you shall find relative peace. Boromir has no such mystery to cloak himself in. He has been known to the people of that city since he first entered the world from his mother's womb. He is their champion. The mighty Captain-General of the armies. The sword arm of the White Tower. What will the people of Minas Tirith think when they find that their much-respected Lord has been indulging in carnal pleasures with the King? What will the men in the armies under his command think? What will Boromir's own father and brother think?"
Now Aragorn's eyes filled with realization and anguish. He sank down into his chair, his expression dazed. "I......I never really stopped to think..........To consider......." He paused, his gaze sweeping the table top in front of him, not really seeing it. "My gods........Boromir........Do you know what I am leading you into?" he whispered to himself. "Have you thought this through yourself, melda-nin?" Now he looked up at Eomer, began to speak, and then a passing courtier breezed through the chamber, and Aragorn's mouth shut like a trap.
There was a moment of awkward silence, then Eomer softly suggested, "Come, let us go out to the balcony, where we can discuss these things with greater privacy." Aragorn rose slowly and the two crossed the wide chamber to the arched doorway beyond. Eomer paused to pull the heavy velvet curtain across the archway, blocking the view from the room beyond. Then he sat down upon the wide wooden bench that stretched along the length of the balcony. Aragorn chose to stand at the railing, looking out over Edoras and the fields beyond, his face sad and thoughtful.
"I am sorry," Eomer said after a time. "I realize I sounded rather harsh and abrupt in speaking of such obviously heartfelt matters, but that is how I am used to conducting myself. You must forgive my rather rustic approach." He felt a small spark illuminate him as Aragorn's blue eyes flashed upon him, and a hint of a smile came to the Ranger's lips.
"A rustic approach is sometimes what is needed to truly bring a point home, Eomer. I fear that such a subject as this does not have need of cleverly-turned phrases and polished pontification." He paused, a deep sigh fetching from him. Then his mood turned quite somber again as he asked rhetorically, "What shall I do? If I allow this to continue, it will ultimately consume him in doubt and regret and eventual bitterness. If I release him, it will break his heart." A harsh, rueful bark of laughter suddenly burst from him as he turned to glare at Eomer and asked in a slightly vicious tone, "What to do, Eomer? Which is the easier path? How do you choose to ultimately wound the one you love best in the world?"
Eomer winced at the Ranger's tone and the obvious pain he was experiencing. He rose from the bench and came to stand beside Aragorn, laying a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder as he said, "This decision is not for you to make alone, Aragorn. If any decision be made, it must be made by Boromir, for it is his life and his future happiness which hangs in the balance. It would be both wrong and cruel of you to take that decision out of his hands."
Aragorn was silent for a time, then he nodded slowly. "Yes, you are right. I must speak to him about these things ere we return to Minas Tirith together." Now he looked at Eomer again with a new respect and admiration. "You should have been a royal advisor instead of a soldier, Eomer. The profession suits you well."
Eomer smiled, his hazel eyes holding Aragorn's blue ones, noticing again how very deep and lovely the Ranger's eyes were. Not for the first time, Eomer found himself envying Boromir a great deal. What did Boromir see in those eyes when he made love to Aragorn? How great a passion lay coiled within the controlled exterior that those eyes only revealed mere glimpses of? Eomer tried to hold these thoughts at bay as replied to Aragorn's comment.
"'Tis true that I know well the mind of a King......but that is only because I am destined to become one myself." His smile faded and he moved a little closer to Aragorn as he said, "We are very alike, you and I, Aragorn. We both are destined to become the rulers of our respective countries, and both of us must seemingly face the task alone." He watched with a pang of regret as a flicker of shadow passed over Aragorn's face at his words. Then Eomer quickly rushed on to say, "But it need not be so. We need not face these things alone. Our countries are allied. Our armies will fight side by side. Why not may the Kings of both lands be side by side as well?" He paused, watching Aragorn's reactions, and seeing by the slight glow in the other man's eyes that his words were being understood.
Now Eomer let his hand slide from Aragorn's shoulder to his neck, and then up to the back of the Ranger's head, tangling his fingers through the dark waves of Aragorn's hair. Then he leaned close and whispered, "I can be a friend and a comfort to you as well, Aragorn. And more than that, I can be that one person in your life who understands the burdens you must bear being a ruler of your people."
Aragorn's eyes flickered rapidly back and forth, holding Eomer's gaze intently, his brow slightly creased, his expression one of mingled confusion, distress, and longing. "I........" he began.
And then Eomer kissed him.
Aragorn stiffened all over, almost seeming for a moment that he would push the other man away from him. Then, little by little, his muscles relaxed as he responded to the soft pressure against his lips. His hand reached out blindly for the railing of the balcony, twining his fingers around it, anchoring himself.
The kiss only lasted for a few seconds, but for Eomer, it seemed time had temporarily stopped. He pulled back, his hazel eyes bright as he searched Aragorn's face to gauge his reaction to what had just taken place. There was a slight tremor to the Ranger's hands, but other than that, he looked relatively composed. His eyes moved minutely, looking from Eomer's eyes to his slightly parted lips, noticing the way the other man's breathing was slightly elevated.
Then the Ranger let out a tremulous sigh that carried the whispered words, "the Valar forgive me," and then he was clutching Eomer to him, his mouth enveloping Eomer's in a fierce surge of passion.
Eomer immediately responded, his lips feasting on Aragorn's, his tongue dueling with the other man's for dominance, his hands pulling almost painfully at the Ranger's hair. Then, as the kiss continued, the Rohan soldier let his hands wander to the front of Aragorn's tunic, unfastening it and pulling it open, then doing the same with the shirt underneath, until he was able to smooth his fingers over bare, leanly muscled flesh, lightly dusted with dark hair.
"What a lovely body you possess," Eomer purred against the Ranger's lips as he slid his tongue between them to deepen their kiss once again. Aragorn let out a muffled moan and arched his back slightly as Eomer's fingers teased his nipples, making them harden under his touch. Another part of Aragorn's anatomy was noticeably hardening as well. A fact that Eomer did not fail to notice as he pressed himself closer to the other man. As he shifted his hips a bit, Eomer caused his already fully erect member to brush softly against Aragorn's, causing Aragorn to moan again, a bit louder this time. The sound created a bolt of excitement in the Rohan soldier that travelled straight to his loins. Suddenly he wanted Aragorn so badly he was aching for him.
Tugging gently at Aragorn's shoulders as he broke their kiss again, Eomer guided him over to the wooden bench and sat him down upon it in a sideways manner so that the Ranger's legs were straddling the wooden structure. Then Eomer sat himself down in similar fashion, facing Aragorn. Then he gently pushed Aragorn down on his back, which Aragorn passively allowed. Eomer paused for a moment as he unlaced his own linen shirt and pulled it off over his head, revealing his broad, tanned torso that rippled with muscle.
Aragorn feasted his eyes upon the sight before him. Eomer was indeed lovely to look at, and his kisses were definitely more than adequate. He felt his manhood stirring even more in anticipation as Eomer now reached up to begin opening the Ranger's leggings. The Rohan soldier let out a sigh of admiration as the prize beneath the cloth was revealed. Even in its present semi-erect state, Aragorn's member was impressive to behold, and Eomer licked his lips as he gazed upon it, experimentally running his finger slowly down the length of it, watching the organ jump lightly at his touch.
Now Eomer slid back a bit on the bench in order to be able to lean over Aragorn's body. He teasingly flicked his tongue at the Ranger's navel, then traced it down the line of dark hair that ran down the center of the Ranger's abdomen, finally arriving at the center of his desire. He did not take time to warn or prepare, but immediately took the entire shaft into his mouth.
"Gods," Aragorn murmured, his hips lifting involuntarily from the intense stimulation. His eyes fluttered closed and he moaned as Eomer swiftly coaxed him to full hardness. The Ranger gripped the sides of the bench with trembling fingers and lifted his head a bit to look down at the action happening between his spread thighs.
Eomer was sucking greedily at Aragorn's shaft, taking him fully down his throat with an enthusiasm and a skill that had Aragorn panting. The Rohan's soldier's hair fell in a golden waterfall over Aragorn's thighs and abdomen, the caressing softness only serving to further stimulate to the Ranger's senses.
Now, as Aragorn watched, Eomer began to unlace his own breeches and pulled his own straining erection out through the opening he had created. Aragorn sighed as he was treated to the sight of Eomer stroking his own impressively sized manhood as he continued to expertly tend to the Ranger with increased hunger. Eomer shuddered and moaned deep in his throat as he stimulated himself, and Aragorn let out an answering groan as the vibration of Eomer's throat was transferred to his own erection.
Feeling himself moving close to the brink, Aragorn arched his hips up again as he pleaded softly, "Gods, Eomer.......I cannot bear much more of this.......please......"
Eomer responded by constricting his throat more tightly around Aragorn's shaft as he increased the pace of his sucking, and soon Aragorn was shuddering and twitching, his eyes closing in ecstasy as he exploded in Eomer's mouth with a half-choked cry of pleasure.
Once the Rohan soldier had assured himself that he had completely drained his partner, he now pushed himself up so that he was leaning over Aragorn's prone body, propping himself up with one arm while his other hand continued to stroke his own throbbing, aching member. He moved at a furious pace, his eyes closed, his lips parted as panting breaths and soft moans erupted from him. Finally, he uttered in a strained growl, "Dear Gods, Aragorn.......You undo me!" Then his head tilted back and a tearing cry burst from between his clenched teeth as he released his seed over the Ranger's chest and stomach. Aragorn sighed at the impressively lovely sight of Eomer in his final extremity of passion, and as Eomer began to relax from his orgasm, Aragorn reached up to bury his hands in the slightly tangled mass of blonde hair and pull Eomer down to him for a long, deep kiss.
Eomer seperated their lips after a bit and looked down into Aragorn's eyes, saying, "You were everything I had always imagined you would be, Aragorn. You may look the perfect human model of Elvin control, but your passions run deep."
"When brought out in the proper fashion, yes, 'tis true," Aragorn admitted, smiling and kissing Eomer again, playfully writhing his hips against the other man's.
Eomer smiled down at him and took a deep breath, saying, "Well, I guess we should think about moving off of this bench and continuing with our studies of the maps." He lifted his head to look around for a moment as he continued to say, "Maybe later we could........" Then suddenly, his words stopped as if cut off by the slice of a dagger. "Oh dear Valar........" he whispered, his hazel eyes wide as he stared across the balcony.
"What.........?" Aragorn began, frowning. He turned his head to follow Eomer's gaze, and his heart suddenly plummeted to his stomach in a pulse of inner pain.
Standing just beyond the archway, past the barrier of the velvet curtains, stood Boromir, silent and unmoving, staring at them, his green eyes horrified and full of stunned hurt. Then, before either Eomer or Aragorn could even think to move, the Gondorian swiftly exited the balcony, raking the velvet curtain aside.
"Boromir!" Aragorn called, distressed. But he was gone.