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Ménage à Trois (NC-17) Print

Written by J_Flattermann

27 February 2012 | 7494 words

This is written as a thank you for the valentine’s greetings from my friend ingrid44.

Title: Ménage à Trois
Pairing: Faramir/Éomer, Éowyn
Genre: Slash/Femslash/Het
Rating: NC-17 Adult
Word Count: 7,436
Disclaimer: Pure Fiction. The characters belong to the Tolkien estate. No copyright infringement intended.
Summary: Faramir has second thoughts and remedies his mistake.


Faramir chewed on his lower lip. Again his gaze wandered from the woman standing next to him over the gateway in the crowd to the man standing across in the group of warriors. Something in his guts stirred. The feeling of being sick gripped him. He looked at the young blond woman again, now smiling at him. Somehow he managed to smile back at her, but his glance immediately went back over to the man amongst his men still in fighting armours. They stood out like sore thumbs amongst the crowd all in their fineries, but nobody dared to stare least to make a remark.

Faramir wondered. He had heard, knew that they young woman at his side and the warrior across were siblings. The woman and he had met in the House of Healing. Both recovering from injuries obtained in battle. His not only battle wounds but also burns inflicted by his gone crazy father. She poisoned by the blade of the Witchking of Angmar, the leader of the Nazgûl. She had seemed forlorn there in the house and he had been numb. So they had leaned on each other for support.

His stomach churned again. He didn’t dare to cross looks with the man for fear to be observed. However he noticed the tiny move in the corner of the mouth despite the covering beard. A smirk only hinted not forming into a real smile. Faramir had to cast his eyes down not to blush. The train of the King and Queen walking past saved him, as he bowed his head in reference. As soon as the Royal train had passed Faramir’s head shot up. Just then Éomer looked up as well and their eyes logged. Faramir blushed, looked away for a few seconds only to feel drawn to look again. Éomer completely unabashed looked him straight in the face and Faramir’s heart began to race. Éowyn said something to him and he nodded automatically without comprehending what she had said. When he turned to ask her what it had been she was gone, disappeared in the crowd.

Around him all people suddenly seemed to be on the move. He turned again looking in the direction where Éomer had been and there he was looking back at him smiling whilst around them there as pushing and shoving to get close to the new crowned King and Queen of Gondor. The two men stood still waiting until the last people were gone inside the Great Hall of the KIngs.

Éomer slowly moved over whilst Faramir stood thunderstruck unable to move. Éomer walked around him as if judging him, until he stopped standing face to face with the young Gondorian. Faramir felt the heat in his face. His mouth gone completely dry. He tried to swallow but his tongue seemed to be glued to his palate. Éomer let his gaze wander down Faramir’s slim body. To Faramir it felt as if the Rohirrim was mentally undressing him. Faramir desperately tried to force his member not to stir but the more he tried the harder his cock grew. His pants were pressing, itching, making matters worse. He had to shift, shake his prick but how. Eormer’s inquisitive eyes seemed to be firmly fixed to his body. Éomer came closer broke into his personal space. Leaning in his face, beard touched Faramir’s face brushing, scraping softly. Faramir couldn’t breathe, felt suffocated. Éomer’s hot breath against his ear sent shivers down his spine. He knew he was so cooked. A little more and he would come here and now.

“What arrangement have you made with my sister?” Éomer whispered in Faramir’s ear. Faramir tried to reply but only some unarticulated squealing noises left his throat. Sweat pearled from his forehead and temples. “Do I have to worry about my little sister?” Éomer asked.

Faramir blushed. The nearness of the Rohirrim not only intimidated but also aroused him. Aroused him even more. The smell of leather oozing from the warm armour, the smell of horse combined with soap and clean male sweat infused with testosterone hit his nose. Made his trousers almost too tight to bear.

He finally found his voice again. “Your fair sister, m’lord, and I are merely friends. No arrangement or agreement has been made.” Éomer moved back to come face to face with the son of the late Steward of Gondor. He needed to see the man’s eyes. Needed to establish if he was lying. But Faramir returned the gaze openly not looking away. “I would never dare to surpass you or my king in such a matter.” Faramir added.

The young man spoke the truth.

The relief Éomer felt was not only down to being glad that the young man respected the traditions and the status of his sister. To his own astonishment his own heart leapt at the revelation. Confused Éomer moved away leaving Faramir standing. He had to search his own feelings. Why was he so glad that Faramir hadn’t bound himself to his sister?

Éomer was turning away from the Great Hall, looking for solitary when his name was called. He turned, had to shield his eyes. Still he only could see the outline of the shaded figure against the light. However the voice was very familiar, so he raised his hand and waved. He waited until his sister had crossed the square and came to stand beside him. “Aren’t you joining the festivities inside the Hall?” She asked even though she already knew the answer. Her brother had never been much of an indoors man. And ceremonies of this kind he normally shun. “You need to get used to such things.” She said teasingly and laughed at the face he pulled. “The hell …” He growled making her laugh even more. “You are the king of the Mark now, brother.” She reminded him. “Do you plan to reign your kingdom from horseback?” “Why not!” He said winking at her.

“Éowyn.” He held her back from turning and going back to the hall. He took her by her arm, hooked her under leading her away to one of the rare quieter spots in the square. “Éowyn. Do you have feelings for the Steward’s son?” He asked making her blush.

Why damn it had he always to be so straight forward? He looked at her with his usual ‘I’m waiting’ look, waiting impatiently for an answer. She would have slapped him if he hadn’t been her brother.

“I am not sure, brother. He comforted me when I needed it most. Listened to me. Calmed me when I was panicking. Worried stiff for your safety. I knew not much about him. Don’t think I know more now. Like me he was in the House of the Healers. He seemed to suffer from injuries of a great battle, just like me. Hurting like me over the loss of people close to his heart. We did not speak about them. Neither of us did. But I could feel that he knew what I was going through. Could emphasize.” She stopped digging deep inside her heart. “I … I just needed someone to talk, I guess. Then.”

“And now?” Her brother inquired.

“Typical older brother, you. Over protective.” She said but then shrugged. “I’m not sure. Do I have feelings?” She looked at him as if he could give her an answer to this question. There was something in his eyes. The way he looked back at her, that made her hold her breath. “You!“ She shouted but then ruled herself and whispered the last bit. “You have feelings for him.”

He looked away but did not protest or deny. He rather looked confused. She knew that her brother had experience with men. Most soldiers had and she had spent enough time amongst them Eorlingas herself, disguised as Dernhelm.

Had to fend off some advances herself.

He knew she knew. So there was no need for being ashamed. She squeezed her brother’s arm with compassion. “Don’t worry about me. Éomer, if you have feelings for him, make them known. Tell him.” He looked at her full of love for his little sister and he knew she sensed his love for her. She knew how much she meant to him. She his only near kin alive.

“What if he doesn’t like me?” He said sheepishly. “Then at least you know and don’t waste your time and energy on a lost cause.” He laughed and it sounded a little bitter. “Am I not doing that anyway?” She knew what he meant. Knew that he was not referring to his love life but to that war they were still fighting. A brutal war against dark forces. The only thing certain seemed to be eminent death.

Leaving her brother to return to the festive crowd, Éowyn thought about the young Gondorian who’s company she had enjoyed over the last months. He was to become the new Steward of Gondor if the king would continue that office. She looked around. Who could be asked about the man’s prospects? Was he already spoken for? Her eyes stopped short at the queen who smiled at her and waved, urging her to come over to join her. Éowyn elbowed her way through the crowd.


Faramir had remained behind after his encounter with Éomer. He had responded to the nearness of the horselord with a now painful arousal. He need a place to set his head and cock right. Privacy was mandatory.

With his hands desperately trying to cover the bulge in his pants which had growing decisively during his conversation with the Rohirrim, he tried to think of a place to go.

There was only one place he could think of where he would be undisturbed. Gingerly he walked across the square and after looking about if he had been observed, vanished into his late father’s office. As soon as he had closed and locked the door he untied his britches, fumbling his hard cock out. The touch on the hot flesh alone made him moan. He only needed to think of the future King of Rohan and he came instantaneously.

“Fuck. No girl had that effect on me ever.” He noted. Then he blushed. Did that mean he was …

He tried to shake the thought.

“Maybe father was right after all. I am the great disappointment. Looks like his line dies with me.” He sat down on one of the dust covered chairs, forgetting that he was bare arsed. He remembered when he had been with a man for the first time. How he had overreacted and how his older brother had to set him straight, pulled him back to reality. “Easy, little brother.” Boromir had cautioned. “The man possibly has a wife and children, to whom he’s returning just now.” Then Boromir had explained the rules, that what happened on campaign staid on campaign. Most of these relationships didn’t last. Weren’t meant to last even.

But Faramir couldn’t help himself, a blond bearded, handsome face repeatedly sprang back to his mind. Every time it did his cock stirred and he had to rely on the use of his hands again.

Oh, he clearly preferred the brother to the sister. But wouldn’t his king expect him to produce an heir as well. In the end he was the last remaining male of the line of the Stewards. Also the horselord was destined to become the new King of Rohan. Clearly he was expected to reproduce. Needed an heir to his throne. The idea alone send shivers down his spine.

Faramir was clear he fancied Éowyn’s brother. The only problem was that he feared that after the incident at the end of the coronation or rather was sure that Éomer couldn’t stand the sight of him.


Éomer watched his sister going back inside the Great Hall of Kings. He still didn’t felt like squeezing himself into a stuffy overcrowded room. He was much more interested in finding out more about that Steward’s son. Éomer never had been shy. He always had addressed head first things he wanted. He also never believed in second hand information. What he wanted was to know about Faramir and he would gain that information from the man himself. He looked all over the square, scanning for the slim figure of the Steward’s youngest. However he could not spot him anymore.

He walked over to the Gondorian soldiers standing guard by the White Tree at the centre of the square. In his most angry, demanding, kingly voice he could muster he yelled at them. Ordering them to point him in the direction of the Steward of Gondor’s whereabouts. In secret he chuckled, knowing of course that there was no Steward in office at the moment. The guards looked confused and afraid. They knew that the new crowned king certainly did not wanted to deal with an angry Rohirrim horselord when still celebrating his coronation. But as there was no Steward they pointed him in the direction they had seen Faramir vanishing. Faramir was the closest thing to a Steward of Gondor at the moment, even though the king had not appointed him as Steward yet.

So Éomer walked up to the former Steward’s office. Rattled at the door knob and knocked so hard at the door that he almost smashed it in.

Inside Faramir jumped, fell over stumbling over his britches still down at his ankles. He crashed onto the floor taking the chair with him in the fall. He cursed under his breath.

Éomer still banged like a maniac at the door.

Faramir janked his pants up, fumbled with feeble hands to tie them back up at his waist.

Another volley of heavy thuds from a fist against the door frame made him rip the waist band.

‘Fuck.’ He cussed again. It couldn’t be helped.

Holding up his pants he opened the door, facing Éomer he blushed crimson red.

Faramir still holding up his britches was pushed back into the room and the door flew into the lock with a bang before the key was turned again.

The soldiers guarding the White Tree smiled anticipating the outcome of the showdown in the Steward’s office.

“This horselord will soon find that he has bitten off more than he can chew.” One of them said in a soft voice and fell in with the chuckles.

In all Minas Tirith, no, in all Gondor the fact that Captain Faramir had an unpredictable temper was well known.

However Faramir had no time at all to even think. With a few quick glances Éomer had evaluated the situation. The print of naked buttock on a dusty chair, the fresh splatter of cum staining the floor, the torn waist band lying next to the door and the hands clutching the pants all told a tell tale story, not to speak of Faramir’s sweaty hair and flushed face.

“That’s not nice of you,” Éomer said closing in on Faramir, “starting without me.” Éomer placed his hands on Faramir’s, leaned forward and softly said. “Let go.”

Staring into Éomer’s eyes Faramir was just like hypnotised and so he showed no resistance but did as told. As soon as this fingers loosened the grip his trousers fell and his again stirring member poked out from under his tunic.

His ceremonial cloak was still where he had flung it, on his father’s writing desk. Éomer untying Faramir’s tunic, moved him at the same time with gentle force towards just that desk. “Raise your arms.” Éomer whispered in his ear. Faramir followed every command without hesitation and so his tunic was pulled over is head and he stood naked before the Rohirrim, who’s eyes and hands moved slowly over his body. Then the left arm of Éomer pushed past him and from the corner of his eye Faramir saw how Éomer spread his coat out over the table surface. Then Éomer led him gently to the table and had him lay down. Faramir shivered and Éomer bend over him his lips almost touching Faramir’s skin, asked “Are you cold?” But Faramir shook his head. His entire body was burning with heated desire and shivering with anticipation of what was to come.

Éomer brushed his lips and fingertips over his body. Faramir closed his eyes, giving in to the sensation. He moaned softly, moving his body to welcome every touch. But then Éomer stopped and Faramir opened his eyes and lifted his head. He saw Éomer peeling himself out of the leather armour and the linen tunic that formed his underwear. Faramir gasped at the sight of the lean well muscled body and even more at the size of the man’s arousal. Éomer climbed up the table and stretched out next to Faramir. Propped up on his elbow the Rohirrim picked up the gentle caresses again all over Faramir’s body. “You are so beautiful. So breathtakingly beautiful.” Éomer said making Faramir blush. The horselord chuckled. “And he doesn’t even know it. I need to tell you more often then. Until you believe me.” Faramir swallowed hard as Éomer’s face came closer and the Rohirrim stole his first kiss.


Éowyn had squeezed a lot of information out of the Queen, the King and everybody who knew Faramir more closely. Satisfied with what she had learnt she now relaxed and watched the dancers performing for the entertainment of the royal couple and their guests.

A girl with long coppery hair all gathered up at the top of her head and then braided up in one long, thick tail caught her eyes. The girl wore a thin chiffon dress clinging to the right parts of her body and Éowyn not able to take her eyes of her, repetitiously licked her lips. As soon as the dance was over and the dancers retreated she got up and as leisurely as she could pretend followed the girl in a short distance. As soon as she was outside the Hall she quickened her step and soon caught up with the girl. “Hello. I have seen you dancing in there. You are very good.” She started small talk and the girl who at first seemed very nervous, relaxed when she realised that the person approaching her was a young woman.

Not long after and the two walked arm in arm deep in conversation, leaving the top level of the city to the lower ones. Éowyn learned that the girl was an orphan and that Aliona earned her living by renting herself out. That was when Éowyn formed her decision. “Will you come live with me as long as I am staying in Mundburg?” She asked. At first the girl was not sure but Éowyn insisted that she wanted to take care of her and that she would provide her will whatever she needed.

So Aliona led Éowyn to the tavern where she had rented a small room and they picked Aliona’s few items of property up and brought it to Éowyn’s rented house.

Éowyn showed Aliona to the room she was going to live in. But when she turned Aliona held her back and hugged her. So Éowyn kissed her lips and started to caress her arms and shoulders. Aliona loosened the shoulder clips on her dress and the delicate material floated down in elegant waves leaving the girl standing naked. She took Éowyn’s hand and the two walked up to the bed. There Aliona helped Éowyn out of her dress and as soon as Éowyn was as naked as herself Aliona cupped her hands under Éowyn’s breasts and began to lick at the protruding nipples. Éowyn smiled and gently nudged Aliona to lie down on the bed.

Éowyn had experience in laying with women. When out on campaign with the Eorlingas riding in disguise as Dernhelm, the men had taken her to brothels before. Just like her brother she had developed a liking to her own sex.

So now she pushed Aliona into the cushions and made her spread her legs, bent down and touched the girl with her tongue.

Éowyn woke in the morning with her golden hair mingled with the coppery locks of Aliona. She looked down at the girl. Caressing the firm breasts, kissing the nipples which raised on touch. Aliona moaned and stretched, opened her long legs and Éowyn dived to smell and taste the moist flesh between the girl’s legs.

Her tongue playing with the clitoris she shoved two fingers into the vagina which was welcoming them with wet squelching sounds. Aliona arched up and moaned. “For shame your fingers aren’t longer.” She cried.

So Éowyn formed her hand into an arrowhead like triangle and pushed inside again. “Oh.” Was all Aliona had to reply.

Suddenly Éowyn remembered that she was expected by Éomer to have breakfast with him. So she pushed Aliona on but when the girl wanted to return the service she declined. “Please for give me,” She said after kissing her lover, “but I had totally forgotten that my brother is expecting me for breakfast.” She kissed Aliona again. “I must rush. If I had known that I would meet you, my delicious lover, I would never had made the arrangement.” Aliona giggled. “I too have some chores to run.” She said, peeling herself out of bed. “You are not going back to that business of yours?” Éowyn said with a frown, knowing that Aliona had not only been a dancer. “If you need money, here.” She pushed several coins into Aliona’s hand. The girl blushed. “I need to tell them that I am no longer available though.” She said and Éowyn nodded, pushed her hand between the girl’s legs and said: “Remember, this is mine now.”


Éomer sat at the breakfast table with a satisfied smirk on his face when a very flushed Éowyn entered. “I’m so sorry, brother. Are you waiting long? I almost had forgotten about our little arrangement for today.” Éomer smiled and kissed his sister. “You smell different today.” He remarked. “There is some flowery perfume coming out of your hair. Do I know her?” He grinned and Éowyn laughed. “I don’t think so brother.” She said.

Éowyn sat down and looking at his self-satisfied smirk, started to chuckle. “You look very pleased with yourself this morning, yourself. May I take it that you were hunting successfully?” His smirk grew into a very broad grin. “Is it who I guess?”

He grinned back at her. “Thought so.” She said with a smile.

And then mischievously added “Make the best out of it while you can, brother. This one I fear you can’t keep.” She pretended to be busy with the food on her plate but checked his reaction out of the corner of her eye.

His grin vanished and a dangerous glimmer appeared in his eyes as he leaned forward over the table. “What do you know?” He almost snarled at her. She would have been frozen with fear if she hadn’t known her brother all her life.

“I was making enquiries on this one. Think I’m getting quite interested myself now, from what I’ve heard.” She looked up and faced his frown.

“The king has plans for him, Éomer. Plans that involves a family. A Steward’s family to continue the lineage. Brother, you yourself have to think of that. You are the King of the Mark. Don’t you forget.”

She flinched as his fists hit the table surface full force. “For once in my live…“ He yelled. “I haven’t asked to become King of the Mark.” He added calmer again.

“Why can’t I have what I want just once.” It sounded almost like a plea.

Éowyn got up and stepping to him folded her arms around him. “I know. I know.” She said in a comforting voice. She remembered well that he had withdrawn himself from their cousin whom he had loved with all his heart. Only to make way for her to fulfil their uncle’s wish to unite the family and manifest the claim to the throne. She had given in to the engagement as her brother had given up his lover. Both had been despaired when Théodred fell at the Fords of the Isen. But even now she felt that her brother’s sacrifice had been the greater.

She rocked him gently as if he wasn’t the elder but just a baby. “We will think of something, my heart. I will think of something.” She said. An idea was forming in her mind but this meant that she had to give up Aliona.

“I think I know what we can do, my darling brother.” She said to him and he looked up at her with questioning eyes.


After Éomer had left the Steward’s office through the door leading to the courtyard, Faramir had rearranged his clothes, thankful for the loan of a belt by Éomer and his ceremonial cloak to cover the stains on his pants. He had combed his dishevelled hair with his fingers and left the office half an hour after his visitor, locking the door.

He was glad for the half-light of the setting sun now shining into the guarding soldiers’ eyes for he knew that he was observed. Éomer had told him that he had asked the guards for his whereabouts and also the fashion in which he had asked.

So Faramir went past them without a greet or a nod. They would have to face him later when their duty was over. He was glad that this ‘later’ wasn’t before the next morning as they were already the guards for the night.

The next morning after he had seen to the guards he was called to meet the king. He rushed to make sure not to let the new king wait to long, eager to make a good impression. It would be bad enough when King Elessar heard the rumours flying about the Steward’s youngest and his preferences. For Faramir was sure that there was gossip flying about.

He waited until the King’s personal guard called out for him and then was announced and ushered to approach the throne. He walked up and before the throne knelt down and bowed his head. The kneeling felt slightly awkward with his bum still sore from the encounter the day before. For a split second waiting in the anteroom he had hoped to find the Rohirrim but he knew that this was mere wishful thinking.

Faramir came out of the meeting with his king furious. How dared he to command him to find a wife! And in such a short time as well. Two weeks, the man must be mad. He couldn’t just take any wench that crossed his way. Not when the king appointed him the new Steward of Gondor. Maybe he should have just declined, Faramir mused on as he walked without noticing where to.

The position of Steward the king had offered him came with the order to marry attached. The king had made it quite clear that he would only have a married man on the post.

Faramir still deep in thought bumped into another person and woke from his musings. “Oh, m’Lady. I beg your pardon.” He reached out to steady Éowyn who just had stepped out of her brother’s door. “It is all my fault.” Faramir blamed himself, “I was in thoughts, didn’t see you coming at all. Are you hurt?”

This gave Éowyn the marker, she reached up with her right hand to her forehead and began to sway. “Oh! Wow.! Easy, steady now.” Faramir sprang to to catch her just in time. Looking about him with the seemingly unconscious woman in his arms.

Just then the door opened and Éomer appeared. “What happened? Éowyn? Is she all right?” Faramir only shrugged and the two carried the fair Shield-maid of Rohan back into the house.


Éowyn was back on her way to her house which was located on one of the middle levels of Minas Tirith. When Éomer had agreed for her to have a house in the city she had insisted that is should not be on one of the two top levels which were reserved for royalty and the close members of the king’s and steward’s households as well as distinguished guests.

She had made it clear that she preferred the low key approach. So Éomer had arranged for a house amongst the well-to-do but not prominent Gondorian’s. Éowyn’s house was on level five as the four lowest levels housed the working men.

Due to his status Éomer himself had his quarters on the top level. The house that before had belonged to his uncle. For his perusal whenever the King of Rohan staid in Minas Tirith.

From Éomer’s home Éowyn now made her way back down. She smiled to herself very pleased with herself.

On level three she passed a flight of houses coming off a side road, when she believed to hear a familiar voice. Out of curiosity she followed the voice into a cul-de-sac. There she stood thunderstruck. Aliona with her skirt up to her shoulders was wailing whilst a man pants at his ankles pumped into her.

Éowyn was staring in disgust when the girl opened her eyes and looked in her direction. “Oh, shit!“ Aliona screamed. Starting to batter the man on the chest and shoulders. “Hey, what’s the matter, bitch.” The man snarled. “I paid for the full round.” Éowyn looked cold at Aliona and addressed her. “When you have finished with this business, you can collect your belongings.”

Éowyn turned on her heel and walked away. She was saddened and relieved at the same time. Aliona wouldn’t fit into her plans anyway. Now this had given her the perfect excuse to get rid of the girl again without much explanation.

When Aliona arrived at the house later, she found that the door was answered by and elderly male servant who without further ado pushed her things into her arms before closing the door in her face.

The girl stood for some time on the other side of the street hoping to spy Éowyn. But after several hours had past she picked herself up and left.

Éowyn had carefully watched from an upper window but kept herself unseen. When she saw Aliona leave she sighed. “For shame, you were good.” She said to herself, “But it’s for the best that way. And you are an alley cat. You will fall back on your feet.” With what Éowyn had planned she couldn’t afford any bad publicity and no scandal. Aliona, she knew would not dare, as she had brought this up on herself.


After Éowyn had left his house for the second time, Éomer had invited Faramir to stay. The young Gondorian had been very upset when he had arrived and Éomer as well as his sister had immediately sensed that this was not down to the little show Éowyn had performed.

With Faramir safely in his arms, a goblet of wine in his hand, Éomer poked carefully further. Éowyn and he had managed to uncover the main course for Faramir’s anger and distraction when walking up to Éomer’s house. Éowyn had charmed the details of Faramir’s meeting with the king out of the young man.

Behind Faramir’s back she had winked at Éomer as all these developments fitted perfectly with her plan. Then she had gone and left the two young men alone. Now it was down to Éomer to calm and comfort Faramir and put the plan his sister had made before his youthful lover.

When Éomer had laid out the plan in all detail Faramir could only but wonder. Of course this was the perfect solution.

The next day the three went to work. Éomer requested a private audience with King Elessar and Queen Arwen. Whilst Faramir went to see and speak to Mithrandir, the white wizard. In the afternoon King Elessar called a meeting with the King of Rohan, his sister, the wizard and his soon to be steward.

Three days later the callers in the city proclaimed the engagement to marry between the fair Shield-maid and sister to the King of Rohan and the future Steward of Gondor, Faramir. The wedding was scheduled for the following week with two days later to be followed by Faramir’s inauguration as Steward of Gondor.

However Éomer had some protestations. He put before King Elessar that his sister was appointed as heir next in line to himself by their late uncle King Théoden. Therefore her status was that of a princess. King Éomer declared that he certainly could not agree to give his sister’s hand in marriage to a man without rank and position.

Éowyn had to bite her lips not to laugh at her brother’s charade. But Faramir not all in the picture blushed. Nevertheless Éomer and Éowyn held themselves firm. So King Elessar after consulting his clever wife announced that before the marriage should take place Faramir would be given the title and position as Prince of Ithilien. This would level his rank to that of Éowyn. The young Rohirrim woman had pushed the sympathy button with the Gondorian royal couple with some big tear running down her cheeks when the situation looked as if the parties would go into stalemate.

The following weekend Faramir was raised into the rank of Prince of Ithilien with all pomp but in a rather private ceremony. The official part the Gondorian king had decided should be held before the marriage to Éowyn Eomundsdottir.


Three days before the wedding was going to be Éowyn spied Faramir standing at the entrance of the Hall of Kings talking to a young woman. They all had assembled to witness the knighting of Faramir. The woman standing with Faramir was tall slender of build and at first Éowyn mistook her for Queen Arwen. There was something in the young woman’s stance that had an elfish feel to it. Éowyn was curious. Who was she her fiance was talking to?

Éowyn looked about. She knew her brother was somewhere near by and somehow she suddenly had the feeling she needed him at her side.
She found herself positioned between Faramir and Éomer standing at the other entrance. Her brother was in deep conversation with the King of Gondor and Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth. She waited until Éomer looked in her direction and gave him a signal by waving her head in Faramir’s direction.
As anticipated Éomer’s gaze left her and wandered further until it was looked with the two young people lost in conversation. Éomer frowned at Éowyn but she only repeated her signal. So Éomer turned back to the two men he had been conversing with and excused himself. He leisurely walked over to meet with his sister.

Éowyn was already waiting for him and pulled him close as soon as he arrived. “He seems to be familiar with her.” She remarked searching his face for traces of jealousy. But all she could detect was some form of curiosity in his eyes nothing more.
Éowyn hooked her arm under Éomer’s making it clear that she intended for them to walk over. Éomer grinned and without her to have to tell him led her over to Faramir and the mysterious lady.

Faramir noticed Éomer at first and his eyes began to sparkle with joy. He was so distracted that his companion misinterpreted his excitement for seeing his fiancee. Looking from Éowyn to Éomer the young woman grew shy and looking down moved closer to Faramir.
Éowyn noted the move with a rise of her eyebrow. Éomer bowed at Faramir and the young woman and Éowyn reminded of her manners followed with a curtsey. Faramir and his friend responded with the same chivalry.

Éowyn had to admit that Faramir looked stunning in his ceremonial attire of dark blue velvet with the rim covered in ermine tails. Faramir made a formal introduction starting with Éomer. “Your Royal Highness may I introduce you to my cousin, Princess Lothiriel of Dol Amroth, daughter of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth, my uncle.” Éomer nodded his greeting and the girl curtseyed deep. “Lothiriel, please meet King Éomer of Rohan and his sister the Lady Éowyn.”
Éowyn’s head started to race. Of course the girl was here to attend the knighting of Faramir as she was a member of his family. But before Éowyn could question Lothiriel, King Elessar led all waiting guest and the participant into the Hall of Kings.

So Éowyn walk up behind Faramir and Lothiriel still on her brothers arm.
Her eyes were fixed on the slim woman walking in front of her.
Unfortunately even after the ceremony she had no chance to talk to the woman as the father of the girl took her away with him.

The ceremony which was quite informal as King Elessar did not yet was aware to the formalities. Part of the ceremony especially the exchange of the vow of fealty was performed by the white wizard Mithrandir. Throughout the ceremony Éowyn had stared over at the young girl now standing beside her father. Something inside Éowyn stirred. If only, she thought, if only she could be won.
A nudge from her brother’s elbow brought her back. “What?” She whispered. “Stop fidgeting.” He whispered back but she saw his gaze following her’s resting on the young maid. She studied him closely as his gaze went up and down.

Instead of going home Éowyn followed her brother to his house. “What is it?” He asked “Chicken out?” She fisted him on the upper arm with all force she could muster. “Ouch.” He complained still grinning as his complaint was rather halfhearted.

Then the wedding day arrived and as agreed the King of Gondor was proclaiming Faramir, Prince of Ithilien to begin with. Then the groom and his uncle as his best man were waiting for Éomer and Éowyn. Under the eyes of the King Elessar and Queen Arwen Faramir and Éowyn exchanged their vows.
As the day wore on it was Faramir he grew more and more nervous. Until Éomer stepped up to him his sister’s hand in his and stretched out his hand to take Faramir’s as well. With both their hands firm in his own he led them away to his house at the other end of the square.

Éomer opened the door and let first Éowyn then Faramir step inside. Then Éomer followed declaring that he would take care that nobody would disturb the young couple otherwise they had him to deal with. This create a staccato of laughter but the crowed dispersed.
Éomer barred the door killed the light in the lower floor and walked upstairs.
Upstairs on the landing Éowyn and Faramir were standing and Éomer rushed to grabbed the two by their waists and led them away to the bedroom.

Inside the bedroom he undressed Faramir, his sister and himself. Then he kissed them both on the mouth and the three walked hand in hand to the broad bed.

Éowyn lost parts of her nervousness due to the fact that she had her brother with her in the marriage bed. She knew she was to bottom and laid down to wait for what was going to happen.

Her experience was down to women only and therefore she was shy not knowing what actually to expect.

Faramir too was nervous. He had been with women before, twice, but both times had been a disappointment. His brother had noticed and never again asked him.

Éomer caressed Faramir and with each touch and kiss the young Gondorian relaxed but also got aroused. Éomer took Faramir’s hand and moved it on Éowyn’s body making him playing with Éowyn’s lips, mouth, tongue and then leading him down to her breasts and nipples.

At the same time Éomer was fondling Faramir’s balls, licked his penis and nibbled at Faramir’s member’s bulb. Faramir groaned and now Éowyn lost her shyness and pulled Faramir’s face between her legs. The young Gondorian probed her vagina’s taste with his tongue and then poked it onto her clitoris. Éowyn wailed and arched up. So Éomer turned his attention to Faramir’s arse. Rubbing his hard rod along Faramir’s cleft. Teasing him with his hard penis by pushing it against the opening in Faramir’s body.

Noticing that both Éowyn and Faramir were about to go off, Éomer reached for the flacon with oil to prepare his breach into Faramir. Feeling Éomer’s oiled fingers stretching him Faramir struggled to hold back and bit down on Éowyn’s thigh. She cried out but more in lust than pain. Her entire body tensed ready to be taken.

Faramir heard Éomer’s voice telling him that it was time to penetrate into Éowyn. So Faramir moved upwards taking Éowyn’s legs with him, shoving her upper thigh against his shoulders.

“Lift her up and spread your legs.” Éomer’s voice said somewhere between the rushing of his blood and the racing of his heart.

“You have to bite her nipple.” Éomer’s voice said. “Just when you push inside. She will concentrate on her breast. You push hard, love, right up.”

Éomer’s words somehow reached Faramir’s brain but he struggled with performing as he was distracted by Éomer’s hands on his buttocks. Éomer moved his hands on Faramir’s hip pushing him in the right direction. Then his left hand reached out to stir Faramir’s penis towards Éowyn’s moist and hot body.

“You have to take over now, my beauty.” Éomer whispered into Faramir’s ear, letting go of Faramir’s penis to reach for his own, making himself slick with oil. The moment Faramir pushed into Éowyn’s vagina, Éomer push himself inside Faramir’s anus. Faramir did as told and bit down on Éowyn’s left nipple as he pushed himself inside her with force.

The movement was enforced by Éomer’s push into Faramir. All three cried out.

Éomer reached out with his left hand and past Faramir rubbed his finger against Éowyn’s anus. Éowyn whimpered pushing her pelvis upwards crushing into Faramir. Her body cramped, tightening her vagina and Faramir lunged back but got stuck. Éomer felt Faramir tense and so he pulled his left hand back from his sister’s arse and touched Faramir’s balls, squeezing them gently.

“Now.” He whispered.

All three came screaming out loud before their bodies slackened and they pulled away and rolled onto the bed. They gasped for breath.

Only after Faramir had his breath back and lifted himself up he realised that there was blood on the sheets between Éowyn’s legs and on his penis. He blanched. “Are you all right?” He asked his wife with worry written all over his face. But Éomer started to roar with laughter, grabbed him and pressed his lips on Faramir’s.

“That is what the wedding night is all about, sweetheart.” Éomer said and then looked at his sister and winked. “Did it hurt much?” He asked but Éowyn shook her head. Until Faramir had asked her, she had been totally oblivious of the blood. There wasn’t so much blood anyway only a small smeared stain.

Éomer got up and brought some rags for them to clean themselves. Éomer then left the room retiring to his own bedroom.


When Éomer’s staff arrived the next morning they found the King of Rohan was already up, sitting at the breakfast table. The servants were very upset to see that the king had served himself, but Éomer smiled and said “I only had a soup. But we have guests today so please prepare a proper wedding breakfast. For my sister and her husband the Prince of Ithilien are staying here.”

The servants rushed to work and Éomer called for his personal groom. The man was told to fold up the bed linen as soon as Éowyn and Faramir had left the bedroom. “Send it to Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth as prove that the marriage has been consumed.” He ordered.

Meeting with Éomer at the breakfast table the couple smiled and Éowyn kissed her brother good morning. Éowyn and Faramir helped themselves to a healthy portion. Halfway through the breakfast Éowyn looked at her brother inquisitively and smiling said “And now we have to find you a nice and understanding wife, dear brother.”

Éomer coughed as his food seemed to have taken the wrong way.

Faramir held his breath and looked down at his plate.

Éowyn got up and patted her brother’s back. “I think I know exactly who.” She said, kissing Éomer on the cheek. “Leave it to me, dear brother.”

THE END

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1 Comment(s)


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Normally I’m neutral about Eowyn, but I like seeing her portrayed with a subtleness and sly nature here as opposed to just being too headstrong for her own good. And poor Faramir, nearly (or should I say literally), caught with his pants down. But seems that brother and sister know just how to handle this situation for the benefit of all parties involved.

Nice, nice read. I’m always happy when I find something that actually makes me look away from the usual Ara/Fara I like to read and give another pairing/trio a try. Cheers!

— LN Tora    3 March 2012, 00:45    #

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J_Flattermann

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