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Forever After (NC-17) Print

Written by J_Flattermann

22 August 2012 | 4232 words

AinA – Ardour in August Challenge 2012
written for rubyelf

Title: Forever After
Author: j_flattermann
Pairing: Faramir/Éomer, Boromir, Théodred, Denethor, Théoden and Éowyn.
Genre: Slash
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,115
Beta: ingrid44. Thank you dear friend for your help with my mistakes.
Disclaimer: Pure Fiction. All characters belong to the JRR Tolkien estate. No copyright infringement intended.
Summary: Faramir has to travel to Edoras and learns to love it.
A/N: Requested is Legolas, Aragorn, Boromir, Faramir, Éomer in any combination; Rating up to NC-17; Story element: 1st time, a surprise; Avoid: death, angst, serious BDSM.
Due date: 29/07/2012.

Young Faramir pulled a face. He didn’t want to go to Rohan. He hated horses. Going to Rohan did not only imply that he had to ride all the way but also he would be surrounded by people who cherished horses so much that they had painted one onto their flag. This time however there was no bailing out. His father had agreed to visit his ally of old, Théoden King of Rohan, and his family would honour the bond of friendship between the two peoples by attending in full numbers.

Boromir had teased his little brother since they had learnt of the visit and would continue until day of their departure. For Boromir this would be an easy visit since he would sneak away with Théodred. The two would get into some mischief and King and Steward would be stern when reprimanding them but afterwards laugh heartily. Faramir knew all this would happen for a fact. Indeed it was the usual routine. He however had nobody of his age to turn to for Théoden, King of Rohan had only the one son and Théodred was of the same age as Boromir, his own older brother.
Dread filled Faramir the closer the day of their departure came. He had complained to Boromir, hoping that the favourite son would be able to sway their father to leave his younger son behind. But no such luck!

So here he stood before the bay mare which the stable master of Minas Tirith had chosen for him because of her amicable and forgiving character. A stable boy waited at his side with folded hands for him to step onto to be catapulted up into the saddle.
One week in the saddle, stinking like the bloody mare he would be sitting on, was not a prospect Faramir looked forward to.
If he had ridden with Boromir alone it would have been an entirely different matter. They would have raced each other for most of the way. The travelling time of their journey would have been cut in half. But accompanying his father meant a slow pace and himself being under scrutiny for most of the time. And of course being compared to Boromir constantly though he knew he could never live up to his beloved elder brother.

He had tried – by the Valar – how hard he had tried, still did in some aspects. Boromir himself had told him not to, to find his own way to deal with things. Boromir had even spoken to his father trying to convince Denethor that Faramir should be allowed to find his own place in their world. Still he could feel his father’s eyes on his back comparing his stance and skills to his brother’s. Boromir was an easy rider who would sit relaxed on horseback, instinctively adjusting to the animal’s movements. He struggled just to keep upright in the saddle not to fall off and would have given his most precious possessions to be allowed to dismount and travel on foot. Just now Boromir made a joke about it and he could hear his father laugh. However this wouldn’t change a thing. He had to ride all the way to Edoras.

Faramir sighed in relief as the Golden Hall drew near. Not long now and he would be allowed to get off the horse. They would stay for three weeks, quite possibly longer since during this time his father and the King of Rohan would go through all the scripted rolls and parchments necessary and negotiate a renewal of the fealty bond between Rohan and Gondor.
Faramir had overheard that his father was planning to make some changes and this could mean prolonged discussions between the two rulers of the neighbouring realms until an agreement was reached. For Faramir himself this meant three weeks or longer of sheer boredom as he was not allowed to interact with even the simple town boys of Edoras.

There was only one upside to this visit and this was that King Théoden would allow him use of the large library in Meduseld. This was something Faramir actually did look forward to. As soon as greetings were exchanged he was dismissed and Théoden had winked at him saying that he surely knew the way to the library as they had made no changes to the build of the Great Hall. Faramir had laughed full heartedly at the well meaning joke. But his father’s sighed remark that his younger son had turned into a bookworm instead of a warrior had not failed to hurt.

He was glad when he shut the door to the library and sighed deeply. Now he was safe. He turned around and “Argh!
Two pairs of inquisitive eyes stared at him. Both pairs of eyes were brown and sparkling under blond locks. Faramir froze on the spot.
The little blond girl was the first to break the spell.
“Hello! Who are you? My name is Éowyn and this…” She pointed at a tall boy, brown eyed like her but blond hair slightly darker and thicker, sitting next to her, “…this is my brother Éomer.”

The two blond children stood up from their chairs. The boy bowed and the girl curtseyed in greeting and Faramir greeted them back with a low bow.
“My name is Faramir. I am a visitor.” He said and blushed immediately because of the awkwardness of his response.
“Oh, yes! I remember now!” The girl exclaimed ignoring his strange behaviour. She rushed towards him taking him by his hand, leading him to the table and pulled a chair out for him to sit between herself and her brother. “Uncle Théoden had told us that Lord Denethor and his two sons were to visit us. Remember, Éomer?” She addressed her brother. The boy blushed crimson and murmured something inaudible. His eyes were fixed on Faramir all the while.
“You must forgive him.” Éowyn said smiling. “He’s shy.”
“I am not shy!” Her brother Éomer growled and made an attempt to leave.
“Éo, you have not finished your homework yet. You know full well that Uncle Théoden will check. He will not be best pleased to find that you have abandoned your work.” Éowyn had her index finger raised, waving it in front of her brother’s face as she told her older sibling off.

Éomer stamped his foot. “OK, little Miss Know-it-all!” He hissed but returned to the desk, sat down and continued his writing.
It was not long before the three youngsters were inseparable. Éomer had overcome his awkward shyness in Faramir’s presence and so had Faramir. Éowyn, called Wyn by the boys, shared in most of their games and soon the Great Hall rang with their laughter and raised voices in game play.
Hama, the Doorward to the King of Rohan had to chase them out frequently so that the King and the Steward of Gondor would not be disturbed during their conferences.

Ever so often the two boys were left to themselves, since Wyn had to learn “girly” things as Éomer put it. These free hours the boys would use to go fishing or hunting about the countryside around Edoras.
Éomer, though several years younger than Faramir, was tall for his age and already surpassed Faramir in build. He also was a sombre and serious boy. Faramir learnt that Éomer had had to look after his mother and sister after his father’s death. He had been eleven years old at the time. Not long after their father had fallen in battle their mother had fallen ill and was unable to leave her bed. She never recovered from the loss of her husband. Immediately Éomer had taken full responsibility for the well-being of his sister.

He had arranged for a messenger to be send to his uncle Théoden King of Rohan informing him that they were now orphaned. Luckily for the children King Théoden had not faltered once but immediately travelled to Aldburg and took the children into his household in Edoras.
These events had helped shape Éomer’s character. They had hardened him and influenced him to put all his efforts into becoming a strong and reliable warrior. He never failed to pick up his sword for training and if his uncle ordered him to work on his skills he never flinched or shied from them. Faramir watched him cleaning stables, grooming horses, practising with sword, bow, spear and axe with the same intensity and determination as the reading and learning of his letters.
Éomer even told him off once when Faramir had tried to distract him, tried to call him away from his work on a very fine day.
“One day I shall take up the office of my father and therefore I have to be prepared.” The young friend had told him sincerely. Faramir had laughed at first but Éomer had told him that this day was not so far off anymore. In fact it was to come sooner than Faramir would expect.
“Just how old are you now?” Faramir teased him, “Fifteen going on fifty?” Éomer looked him in the eye and calmly responded, “I am sixteen soon and on my birthday I am going to become Marshal of the Riddermark as my father had been before.”
“What?” Faramir exclaimed. Of course he too had started training at an early age but only five years ago at the age of eighteen had he been made a proper soldier in the Gondorian army at the rank of second lieutenant. On reaching the age of twenty-one he had been given his own first commission as Captain of the Rangers of Ithilien. A position he held now for these past two years.
“Are you sure, Éo? Sixteen seems to be very young.” Faramir gasped but Éomer just shrugged. “I am prepared.” He solemnly said. “I have been training for this ever since my father first sat me on a horse.”

Faramir had to grin at the picture that was forming in his mind in response to the remark. The picture before his eyes showed him a little blond haired toddler in Rohirrim uniform sitting on a hugh war-horse equipped with spear and shield in his hands. His face barely able to look over the rim of the hugh shield and his little feet dangling, too short to reach the stirrups.
Young Éomer raised an eyebrow. “What are you grinning at?” He asked and Faramir was only to willing to share his mind’s picture with his friend. Éomer no longer embarrassed by such teasing from his Gondorian friend, launched an attack and the two were soon rolling downhill in mock fight.

The days flew, spent in such nice companionship and ever so often Faramir and Éomer would steal away even from Éowyn. The time by themselves they spent in friendly challenge. Éomer had taken up horse-training with Faramir, promising his friend that he would improve his skills substantially before he left Edoras. Faramir on the other hand helped Éomer with his book learning and he never failed to have a book of poems with him when they rode out.

Just now they were resting in their favourite spot by a pond in the shade of a willow tree. The two horses grazed further up the hill. Éomer had brought his fishing lines along and had successfully provided lunch on a quickly set-up fire.
Now sated Faramir leaned back against the tree trunk. Éomer sat next to him bent double over the book in his hand trying to make sense of a love poem.
“Who in all realms speaks in such idiotic fashion.” He lamented and Faramir pulled the book from his hands and hit him over the head with it.

Book utterly forgotten the two started wrestling and ere they noticed both rolled into the pond. Spluttering and spitting out pond water they stood up. Soaked from head to toe.
“Oh hah! I am glad that it’s a hot sunny day.” Éomer shouted laughing as he peeled of his wet clothes. “I would never hear the end of it from Wyn and Uncle that I had tried to drown our guest.” He giggled and Faramir undressing and spreading out his wet garments in the sun next to Éomer’s joined in the laughter.
“Now that we are already wet to the bone, how about a swim?” He suggested and the two ran stark naked down to the little pond again, diving in head first.

At first swimming and diving, they soon pick up their goofing around, splashing water at each other and trying to dunk one other. Out of breath from all the laughing, shouting and exercise they crawled back on land and stretched out in the sunshine. The excitement and the warmth of the sun made Éomer half hard and Faramir watching from out of the corner of his eyes could not look away from the youngster’s body. He noticed how Éomer’s skin rippled with goosebumps. “Are you cold?”
Éomer noticing his own arousal just shook his head. He reached out groping for Faramir’s hand, trying hard not to blush as he moved the hand onto his hardened member. “Have you ever used your hand, for…?” Éomer who had closed his eyes now opened one eye to see Faramir’s reaction. The Gondorian reclining next to him, supported himself using only the one arm as his other, still in Éomer’s clutch, rested in the Rohirrim’s lap. “Yes, often.” Was Faramir’s honest reply.
There was a short pause before Éomer continued. “Fara? Have you ever?… You know … With a girl? Have you?” Faramir shook his head. “No. Not with a girl. But Boromir took me to a brothel once.” Faramir shuddered at the memory. “And that wasn’t at all nice.”
“Yeah.” Éomer confirmed. “They are all old and ugly.” The statement caused Faramir to raise an eyebrow but Éomer shrugged and explained in one word. “Théo.”
“Oh!” was all Faramir had to say to that.
Éomer turned on his side so as to be able to look at Faramir. “You know, Erkenbrand has told me that when they are out on campaign for a long spell, they do it. Man to man.” Again he searched for a reaction in Faramir’s face.
“Have you been on campaign yet? Have you, Fara? Man on Man, I mean?” Éomer didn’t waited for Faramir’s answer but continued. “I wonder how it feels with a man.” He mused. “I reckon I shall learn that soon too. When I become a Marshal.” Faramir stared at him unable to speak totally forgetting that his hand still rested on Éomer’s member.

Éomer was silent for a moment and it seemed to Faramir that he was thinking hard about something. Finally done with his thinking, Éomer sat up and looking into Faramir’s face said, “Fara, may I ask a favour of you?” Faramir’s mouth went dry but he nodded. Nevertheless what followed made him blush.
“You know before Erkenbrand or Folcwine have their way with me out on campaign… Would you? … Please?! I’d rather it be you than…” Éomer sat before Faramir his eyes pleading.
“I, erm… Éo, are you sure?” Éomer nodded “Yes, I wish for my first time it be you who does it.” He simply said and Faramir had to swallow hard.
“I am older than you.’ He said softly. “They will say that I forced myself upon you.”
Nonsense!” Éomer exclaimed. “Nobody will know. This is between you and me. We are friends, aren’t we?”
“Yes, we are friends. But still…”
Hush!” Éomer placed his finger on Faramir’s lips. Astonished he raised his eyebrow. Brushing his finger repeatedly over and over the soft lips. “They are… soft.” He said wide eyed. “I never thought…” He leaned in and touched Faramir’s mouth with is own.
Faramir was thunderstruck at first but soon discovered that Éomer was no virgin when it came to kissing. Soon the two were exploring their mouths with lips, tongues, teeth and fingers. Faramir found that it was Éomer who always pushed them to the next stage of intimacy. Like now with his hands running over Faramir’s chest, caressing the nipples, making Faramir gasp. Éomer’s mouth continued exploring, sucking and nibbling at his neck, over his chest. Biting down on his nipples and sticking his tongue into the dent of his belly button. Faramir laid back, his hands tangled in Éomer’s long golden hair. He pushed the youngster’s head lower, down between his legs, tongue constantly flicking out moistening his dry lips.

His nerves tingled; a tickling feeling spread from between his legs to run all over his body. He had never experienced anything like this before, not even when he had lain with the whore that once.
Faramir screamed as Éomer’s mouth engulfed his hard member and unable to control himself he came. He did not allow himself much time to recover however but duplicated each of Éomer’s moves until Éomer too came with wild groans, pushing himself hard into Faramir’s mouth.

A few days later at their usual spot by the pond, Faramir broke the news that his father’s business in Edoras was coming to an end and that he was soon to leave.
Since that first occasion sharing pleasures Faramir and Éomer had regularly repeated this kind of togetherness. It always had felt good and right, better than the experiences both had with prostitutes. But still being inexperienced they both felt that there should be more but did not know how or what to do.

They had secretly searched the library but nothing there had led to a clue. So Éomer had approached Erkenbrand and asked. On the request why he wanted to know, Éomer had simply answered that he had the feeling that this too was a part of soldiering and therefore he should know. The old Captain and tutor of young Éomer had roared with laughter but answered honestly and provided his pupil with literature for the youngster to study.
These books Éomer had brought with him and showed to a very dumbfounded Faramir. “What?… You have what?…”

In addition Éomer had nicked the required supplies as stated in the books from one of his uncle’s guards. With flushed faces the two sat bent over one of the books which even provided drawings.
Oh! This looks like… ouch!” Faramir exclaimed.
“I don’t know.” Éomer replied, pointing in a second book. “They say here, that with sufficient use of oil and slow stretching …”
Faramir blushed at the mere suggestion, but Éomer continued unabashed. “I watched Grimbold once as he moved his arm into a horse’s. He was down to his shoulder in the mare helping her drop her foal.”
“Are you sure that was the same?” Faramir wondered.
“Pretty sure.” Éomer confirmed.

“Are you sure you want me to carry on?” Faramir asked and all Éomer was able to do was to growl a “Yes!“ between gritted teeth. Faramir had used a lot of the oil Éomer had brought with him. At first he had been wary of pushing his finger up inside the youngster’s aft. However Éomer had demanded him to use more force as his muscles contracted, prohibiting entrance.
Faramir fearful of hurting the boy decided to experiment on himself, probed his own entrance and found that an amount of force accompanied by the relaxing of the muscle was needed to make the breach possible.
“You have to relax. You are squeezing tight again.” He said.
“Fuck! How? Every time you touch me there I clamp tight.” Éomer shouted impatiently.
“What does your book say should be done?” Faramir asked and Éomer began to leaf through the volume lying on the ground in front of his face.

Being on all fours he rested the weight of his upper body onto his elbows freeing his hands to turn the pages. So distracted Éomer didn’t notice Faramir’s hand on his left buttock as the Gondorian slowly moved his right hand and pushed against the opening until the resistance was broken.
Only then did Éomer notice and gasped. Faramir fearing he had injured his young friend was about to withdraw when Éomer’s mucles tightened shut. “No! No! Don’t. Stay. Stay, yesss. Oh, yesss. Ooooh …” The young Rohirrim rested his forehead on the book on the ground breathing hard as he attempted to relax muscle once again.
Faramir bent forward, “Are you OK?” He asked anxiously.
“Yes. Oh, oh Fara. Oh, move your finger again. Just like… Oh, yes, fuck, yess. Oh. Just like so… Oh, oh fara, that feels… oooooh…“ Éomer grew breathless his ring muscle pulsing, flexing as Faramir slowly moved his finger, sliding it in and out. Overcome with the sensation Éomer came.

However he refused Faramir’s attempt to withdraw his finger by clamping shut again and instead asked the Gondorian to now insert a second finger. Again Faramir used the oil flask first before starting to insert the second finger. Éomer now understanding how to relax waited but as soon as Faramir had both fingers inside up to the first joint, Éomer clenched tight again.
“Oh, ouch, Éo, relax, Éo. Relax.” Faramir shouted and as Éomer didn’t seemed able to release the trapped fingers, Faramir slapped his hand hard on Éomer’s naked bottom.

This resulted in an immediate relaxation. “Oh.“ Éomer exclaimed surprised by his own body’s reaction.
Once again Faramir enquired if he had hurt his young lover. Instead Éomer breathed between gritted teeth. “Touch me, Fara. Kiss me. Please. … I want … want more. … Want to … to feel … you. All over. Please, Fara…”
Faramir stretched out on top of the young Rohirrim until they lay skin on skin.
“What now?” He whispered into Éomer’s ear after breaking a long kiss.
“You have to move the fingers apart. Spread them. You need to widen me.” Éomer said after consulting the relevant pages in the book but Faramir shook his head. “No. I don’t dare, Éo love.” He sobbed. “I will hurt you. I am sure I will hurt you bad.”
“You are not hurting me.” Éomer insisted but Faramir was not convinced.
“OK! Let me show you.” Éomer said and the two swapped places.

Faramir was flooded in waves of sensation as Éomer who had thoroughly widened him, entered him with his large cock. Faramir had never thought that this large instrument would fit inside him but now as wave after wave of hot lust flooded through him he begged to be taken more forcefully and Éomer was only too happy to oblige.
After having experienced the flush of sensation for himself, Faramir was willing to try again with Éomer as bottom. The two youngsters couldn’t get enough. The sensations rippling through their bodies, blood rushing past ears, hearts beating drumrolls, changing places again and again, they fucked themselves sore.

Only when it became painful for both of them did they stop. Getting up they staggered into the cooling water of the pond arm in arm, breathlessly kissing each other again and again.
“I want you to always do that to me.” Éomer had gasped as Faramir had pounded himself inside the Rohirrim. But soon after it was his turn to beg Éomer to never move out of him again but continue the sensation forever. “Éo, I love you.” He had cried out as both spent their semen.

Eyes swimming in tears the two young lovers privately embraced for their good-bye at the end of the week. Since that first time they had spent every minute together by the pond, well hidden from spying eyes, sharing their bodies, exchanging kisses, body fluids, vows of love and faithfulness. Now that the time to part had come, they felt as if they would die at the separation.
Éomer and Faramir held each other tightly, pressed chest to the chest as they stood in the courtyard in front of the Golden Hall.

Both had to swallow hard not to cry on the spot, not knowing how to carry on without the other at his side.
“In two weeks I am going to be sixteen and made Marshal of the Riddermark.” Éomer whispered into Faramir’s ear brushing the outer ear with soft kisses as he spoke. “I am certain that Uncle Théoden will send me to Aldburg. It is not so far from Mundburg. And I promise to think of something so that we can be together. I swear, I shall make it possible.”
Faramir nodded his head, noticeable only to Éomer. He too would find a way back into Éomer’s arms. Not daring to kiss and push his tongue into the young Rohirrim’s mouth as they were observed, he only whispered back. “Remember, I love you. I am yours. Always. Now and forever after.”


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