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Warriors of Gondor (NC-17) Print

Written by Hel

14 May 2012 | 182144 words | Work in Progress

Part 23: FAREWELL IN ROHAN

At the western edge of the Firien Wood Boromir drew rein and ordered his escort back to Gondor. In the clearing before them waited Éomer with his Eored, ready to accompany him through Rohan. It was still early, so they rode a distance to the west coming to a small town that was little more than a way station before they stopped for the day.

Théodred was already encamped with a large contingent of Eorlingas waiting to discuss strategy with the Steward’s heir. They had had a successful spring and early summer campaign because of the advice of the two brothers and were eager to discuss more. Also, there was the tale of the loss of the bridge at Osgiliath which they wanted details on. The strengths and weaknesses of the enemy were vital to their survival.

A huge feast had been prepared and Boromir was gratified to see that Théodred was firmly in charge. The young prince guided the conversation at the table to neutral subjects, declaring the morning was soon enough for news of war since there was nothing pressing at the moment. The evening passed in a jovial mood and Boromir found himself more relaxed than he had been for months.

Eventually Éomer rose to his feet, bidding his cousin good night and urging Boromir to follow. He was somewhat surprised that Éomer had his own tent a few yards away and wondered if there had been some sort of discord between the two cousins even though there had been no sign during the meal.

“You look so surprised, Boromir,” Éomer laughed as he embraced him. “We discovered that as long as I shared Théodred’s tent, many thought that I was still in charge. With my own notably smaller pavilion, it makes it clear that I serve him.”

“And I know you serve him well, my wild prince,” Boromir whispered in his ear as his hands skillfully removed Éomer’s clothes. “There are few as talented as you.”

“I have missed you,” Éomer told him, stroking the man in his arms. As they moved toward the bed, he realized that he was definitely taller than Boromir, but the older man was broader with the heavy muscles built up from wearing full plate armor.

Boromir loved to look at Éomer spread below him. His body was full of sharp contrast that thrilled his hands and eyes. Very short blond hair covered him everywhere except for his beard, armpits, crotch and legs. There the hair was longer and so dark a brown as to be almost black, like the hair that grew at the base of his skull before the sun bleached it to match the rest. He’d never met anyone else with two such different hair colors. In the last year he’d gotten a few more scars, but his skin was still fairly smooth over hard muscle. Such a pleasure to touch.

“We have this night, my prince,” Boromir whispered into his ear as he rose up over the younger man. “I want to feel you in me.” Slowly he sank down on the fully erect cock, emitting a low moan as he felt the penetration.

It always felt good to ride Éomer’s long, hard cock. The younger man wrapped Boromir’s large penis with both well-oiled hands. He knew how to hold it just right so that Boromir threw his head back in ecstasy, exposing his long neck. Leaning further back, he braced his body, holding onto Éomer’s thighs just above the knees. He looked down past the long bow of his own body to watch the younger man as he arched beneath him.

Éomer bit his lip to keep from crying out. Boromir always surprised him with his imaginative and athletic maneuvers. It was bliss to once again be joined with him and reaching for that deeper, more fulfilling union.


The moment that Boromir and Éomer came within sight of each other, Faramir knew. His heart, which had felt like it had been filled with broken glass, was soothed, even though the emptiness was still there. It made it easier for him to concentrate on the myriad of duties that he now handled for his brother.

Freed from political and military meetings, which had taken up most of the morning, he checked on the evacuation of the city. Minas Tirith had originally been built as a fortress and had only become the capital of Gondor after the city of Osgiliath had been destroyed nearly fourteen hundred years earlier. Then it had been called Minas Anor, Tower of the Setting Sun, now it was the Tower of Guard. There were storage facilities that could hold enough supplies to keep it self-sufficient for years. The vast cisterns within the living rock also held an endless supply of water.

But if the enemy used such monsters as the Nazgûl, it wouldn’t last for more than a few days. There was no stone strong enough to hold back the evil magic of the Ringwraiths. Few, if any, could resist the terror that preceded their arrival. Faramir was also sure that there were other creatures the Dark Lord had at his disposal. He would not count on mere stone to protect his people.

At the end of the long day when he had done all that he could to ensure the safe departure of the latest caravan, he retired to the rooms he shared with his brother. He submitted to the care of their servants, allowing himself to be fed and bathed. His bondsmen rested in their beds one on each side of the room, knowing the morrow would bring another busy day. This place was safer than any other and they needed to be at their best in the halls of the tower and the press of the city.

Already, he could feel the first heady round of lovemaking begin between Boromir and Éomer. He was glad that his brother had kept his word and waited until late so that he didn’t lose his focus in an important meeting. Still, he was able to follow the directions of Stefle as he was put to bed with loving care. Now he only had to wait for Boromir to give the gift to Éomer that he had promised to deliver.


“I wish to make a horse trade with you, my prince,” Boromir whispered into Éomer’s ear.

“You haven’t grown tired of my gift?” Éomer asked in surprise.

“Never,” Boromir laughed at the scandalized look on the younger man’s face. “But I have need of a special horse, one suitable for a king of Gondor, and I have no wish to part with my own mare. At least not permanently,” he qualified.

“So you go at last to find your long lost king,” Éomer stated, sure of the response. Very little else would send Boromir away from his brother’s side in time of war. Let alone send him into Rohan without an escort of his own men.

“I go for that and more, my wild prince,” Boromir told him as they shifted on the bed. “The enemy loosed on us one of his Ringwraiths at Osgiliath; I’m sure it was the Black Captain himself. If the others should join him in a future attack, Minas Tirith will fall. We need our king and whatever other help the prophecy has foretold.”

“It is almost inconceivable that the Mundberg could fall,” Éomer said, frowning at the thought. “Whatever I can do to aid you I will.”

“I need a good trail horse, but nothing flashy. I will be traveling through the wilds and along forgotten trails; reliability is what I need most,” Boromir began as he sat up restlessly. “My mare is still well within breeding age and I would trade two of her foals for a mount for my king when we come back this way.”

Éomer laughed at the surety in his companion’s voice. “I will personally pick out and train the finest of horses to carry your king, my love, and a spare for you so that you will have a fine steed to ride into battle at his side. For I will have your mare in foal as soon as possible and I expect that you will return before she drops.” He pressed a kiss to Boromir’s chin, “What else?”

“The pack horses I brought with me are carrying both my own plate armor and a full set for the king. I will need them to be stored safely. There are other items as well that we perceived might come in handy on my return, as well as gifts for you and Éowyn,” Boromir told him. “Faramir added a few things for Théoden King and Théodred as well.”

“He always is mindful of his duty,” Éomer commented, lying back against the pillows on the bed. “I shall find safe storage for your belongings and anything else you need. There is even a horse that I already have in mind for you that should be perfect for your journey. And maps,” he added excitedly. “Though I wouldn’t swear to their accuracy, I received some maps from some travelers from Rhovanion. They had an elf with them from the great forests of the north. He was hairless everywhere except for the long blond hair on his head and more limber than I’ve ever seen.”

Boromir laughed at the glazed look that entered the prince’s eyes as he remembered the visit. “Did he show you anything new, my prince?” he asked.

“No,” Éomer said with a pleased smile. “But he was able to demonstrate what Faramir used to do for you before age stole his ability to bend so far. It was most enjoyable, I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.”

“Did this elf have a name, so I might thank him for his generosity if I should encounter him on my travels?” Boromir asked.

“He called himself Saelbeth,” Éomer answered. “He told me that the maps weren’t to be relied on too heavily as he had no skill with them himself. He was most agreeable; definitely give him my best if you do meet up with him.”

“You can count on it, my wild prince,” Boromir told him. “ And speaking of giving, there is something Faramir wished for me to give you,” he added with a leer.

“What would that be?” Éomer queried, his mouth going dry in anticipation.

“He wanted me to fuck you into oblivion,” Boromir said as he went to his knees between the prince’s thighs.


As had long been the custom of the high houses of Rohan and Gondor, the women of the house tended to the baths of visiting Royalty. Boromir remembered the bathing room from his last visit and lay back in the large tub as Éowyn washed his hair. Four of the most trusted of her ladies-in-waiting sat as chaperones against the wall, while Rina waited in the hall on watch.

“You have proved an invaluable asset to the Riddermark, my lovely one,” Boromir said as soon as she finished rinsing his hair. “Your creative imagination in protecting your king has been an inspiration to all of us. My brother and I can hardly wait until we can claim you as our own.”

“It seems to me that you have both been waiting quite patiently, my Lord,” she answered with a touch of bitterness. “Long have I been patient and I still remain little more than a prisoner in my uncle’s home. It has been well over a year since I sat astride any of my horses and felt the wind in my hair as we rode the open steppe as I was born to do. Instead I play nursemaid.” She nearly took the skin off Boromir’s back as she scrubbed him. “I am well past marriageable age and should be already with child, more than once,” she growled into his face, taking his wet hair in an angry fist to look him in the eye. “I deserve a reward for my efforts.”

“Whatever is in my power to give you, my princess,” Boromir told her, careful not to smile too widely at her show of temper. “I can refuse you nothing.”

Sitting back on her heels she looked down at the scars that covered Boromir’s chest. “I wish to put my own mark upon you, my lord,” she said with a dark grin. “Something that will let all who look upon you know that I am the most important woman in your life.”

Laughing at her words Boromir indicated the razor where it waited for her to tend his beard. “You can carve your name in my forehead, my love, anything your heart desires.”

She looked at him in disbelief, imagining how his handsome face would look with the decorative letters across his brow. After a moment, she joined his laughter and urged him higher in the tub. “It is said in our lore that young lovers would often carve their initials in a favorite tree, my lord,” her face turned serious as she spoke. “I would carve my initials and those of my future husbands in your tree.”

The bole of the White tree of Gondor was unmarred across his upper stomach. “I would be honored, my princess,” Boromir told her, his voice husky with desire at her choice. He had plenty of experience reading her graceful handwriting and knew that she was most likely to use the decorative interlace script of her people. “I can think of nothing that would be more pleasing to me.”

“Here, my lady,” Brinel said as Éowyn reached for the razor, handing her an extremely sharp angled blade that was used for carving designs in soft wood.

Despite the strong emotions surging through her at his approval, her hand was steady. At first she tried to imagine that she was carving into soft wood, but the blood and heat from Boromir’s body made that impossible. Though he kept his breathing deep and even to facilitate her cutting, she couldn’t help but notice that his eyes drooped with desire. Her mouth went dry as she felt an ever-increasing urge to kiss each mark as she made it. It was a heady feeling, this drawing of blood and marking of flesh.

She placed her initials between theirs as she marked them on Boromir’s chest. It was as gratifying as sex to mark him in this way, maybe even more so. This was the eldest of her promised husbands laying beneath her hands, letting her have her will with him. As she finished the last curlicue that signified Faramir’s name, she could resist no more and leaned forward and pressed her lips to each set of initials in reverse order. Then reaching across the tub and dropping the knife into Brinel’s hand, she leaned up and pressed her lips to Boromir’s.

Both she and Boromir were so caught up in their kiss that they didn’t hear Rina’s signal that someone was approaching from the hallway. Éowyn’s hand had just wrapped firmly around Boromir’s cock when Brinel roughly pushed them apart. “Good evening, your majesty,” came the younger servant’s voice.

Éowyn brushed her loose hair back, unaware of the water/blood mixture that ran down the side of her face. Théoden was too far gone in his usual fog to notice but Gríma, who followed closely behind him, saw that as well as the spreading red color in Boromir’s bath. The sharp pangs of jealousy tore at his heart as he realized that she had been using a blade on the Steward’s heir. He was well aware that it was fully consensual and that this was one more bond between the two.

It soon became clear that the king’s presence would not shorten Boromir’s bath. Servants heated both tubs as the king lay back to ramble aimlessly at the room’s occupants. He was oblivious to what was going on around him and as soon as Éowyn was sure of his state, she took full advantage of the situation. With a cruel smile, she reached below the sudsy water in Boromir’s tub and rewrapped her hand around his fully erect cock.

Ever ready for a challenge, Boromir let one arm drape over the side of the tub and down to fall between the thighs of the princess. With an equally cruel grin to the king’s advisor, he pulled up Éowyn’s skirts and began to touch her with his experienced fingers. Gríma became short of breath as he watched them, powerless to do anything with the princess’s supporters surrounding them.

Visions of what they were doing to each other and of Éowyn cutting Boromir, as he knew she had been, overlapped each other in his mind. He could only press himself against the side of the king’s tub as he watched, hoping that he didn’t betray his unwanted arousal. All his hopes were lost as he saw Boromir throw his head back and gasp out his release and Éowyn moaned hers against his neck. He could only lean back from the tub ‘accidentally’ splashing water over his front to hide his own unwanted orgasm.

Gríma’s face burned with anger and shame as they both looked at him and laughed. He knew at that moment he would give up everything to be their slave. So beautiful and golden before him, all that he could ever desire. He also knew that it could never be. Saruman would never let him go and when they learned the depths of his treason they would never forgive. But this he could grant them, even though on the morrow he would do everything he could to kill the Steward’s son, tonight he would pretend he didn’t see.

As if acknowledging Gríma’s acceptance of their tryst, Éowyn leaned over and locked her lips against Boromir’s. Their kiss lasted long minutes while the king babbled on about horses and long forgotten battles. Rising from the tub, Boromir was without shame of his half-erect cock as he looked at the cowed king’s advisor. Stepping from the tub, he stood still while Éowyn dried him, her hands pausing significantly at certain parts. The letters she had carved into his flesh were easy to read and a feeling of dread and defeat filled Gríma’s heart as he watched Brinel rub a coagulating mixture into them.

“I will see our guest to his room, uncle,” Éowyn said as the servants wrapped a robe around Boromir’s shoulders. The man himself smirked down at Gríma, stroking his cock almost in the advisor’s face.

“I’m sure you have everything well in hand, my dear,” Gríma said, acting as voice for the king. There was give and take in this exchange, as he felt his mouth moving toward that unbelievably large prize, as well as Éowyn’s waning influence. From his position on his knees, Gríma would gladly sell his soul all over again to be able to offer himself up to the golden creature standing there.

“Yes I do,” she replied, making sure to expose a length of thigh up to reddish-blond pubic hair next to the aggressively male display her intended was making. “I’m sure you will be able to handle my uncle for us all.”

“Yes, my lady,” he hissed as his head came of its own volition to the floor between their feet. “If there is any way I can serve you.”

Shocking everyone in the room, except for the oblivious king, Boromir ran a foot up Gríma’s head across his back to stop at his ass. “You might be surprised at what would serve your lady, ‘worm’.” He said in a deep, husky voice. “If you should choose to change whom you serve, we might be able to find a solution to all of our problems.”

Gríma wept as he pressed his head to the floor, though only the most observant could tell. There was no way for him to change his allegiance to the White Wizard; he had sworn too many soul-binding oaths for that. There in the bathing room of Meduseld, he realized that he had lost everything he had ever really wanted.

“Don’t worry, Gríma,” Boromir said as he turned toward the door, “nothing of the future is written in stone. Until the prophecies have come to pass, they are nothing more than speculation. Even now, you can make changes that will affect tomorrow. You can be who you would most desire to be.”


As he rode north, Boromir wondered what he might have done if things had been just a little different. He knew that Gríma and Saruman’s other agents expected him to make for the Gap of Rohan, therefore his path would take him almost directly north through east Emnet past Fangorn Forest. His escort was of both Théodred’s and Éomer’s eoreds. They were both fully supportive of his journey.

He would lose his escort at the Celebrant River, which marked a long ago battlefield. This he didn’t mind; he expected it. From there, he would be into territory only sporadically marked by the maps from Éomer’s elf. With any luck, he would be able to make it to Imladris, or Rivendell, before the first snow fell or even before the first leaves fell from the trees in the south.

NB: Please do not distribute (by any means, including email) or repost this story (including translations) without the author's prior permission. [ more ]

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16 Comment(s)

so good. more please

— cakresvari    Tuesday 11 July 2006, 9:53    #

So fabulous to see an update! Wonderful, as always.

— stillwell    Wednesday 20 September 2006, 22:44    #

Yea!! More updates soon please. I love it and can’t wait for more interaction between Aragorn and Boromir, and I assume Aragorn and Faramir in the future.

— cakresvari    Sunday 24 September 2006, 9:59    #

When I found this story few months ago I belived that it would never be finished. Which I thought was a pity cause it gripped me as not many stories did. I am extatic to see a new part. Welcome back!

— maeglina    Sunday 24 September 2006, 18:38    #

OMG I love this story!!!! I first read it at the Library of Moria and it is so friggen’ AWESOME!!!! It reminds me vaguely of Jacqueline Carey’s Kushiel’s series, which were very good books.
So Please I beg of you UPDATE!!!! My god this is so COOL!!!! I love all of it, after I read this story it was hard for me to get into other stories of this pairing just because none of them hit me like this one did. This story just has so much going on, it’s so cool, so please don’t abandon it!!! I’m given’ ya HUGE puppy dog eyes and offering lots of nakey Fara/Boro sexy cookies in return. ;^; Update Please!!!

— mokona    Thursday 6 September 2007, 4:10    #

I recently found this story and read all the parts as quickly as I could and then read thru them again. It is such a wonderfully crafted world you've woven here. It's Tolkien's world but with so many layers added to it. I am disheartened to see that the last part was posted back in 2006. I guess that means you never finished it and that SADDENS ME! Please, oh, please continue this….I need to know what you are going to do…

Hi - I'm not sure what makes you say this story has not been updated since 2006: a new chapter was added less than two weeks ago. At the moment, it's still on the top most page of our Recent Fiction.
To keep on top of the latest from Hel, join her Yahoo group - see link below these comments in the 'About the Author' block. And on a more general note: all stories at this archive are listed with a timestamp; either as 'x days ago' in chronological listings (Recent Additons, Recent Fiction), or simply a date anywhere else (listings per pairing, author). This timestamp refers not to when the story was first posted, but to the last (significant) update, eg, when a new chapter was added. In non-chronological listings (for exampleall stories by Hel, or all stories with Boromir), all stories that have been posted or updated within the last 30 days are marked with a red 'NEW' icon.
-the archivist

— cats_meeeow    Monday 23 June 2008, 15:53    #

I can only plead ignorance. I noticed that some comments appeared to be dated 2006 & figured that's when chpt 34 came out. I didn't go thru the recent fics to access the story or chapters…. Sorry. I'm very, very glad that it continues to be updated. Yeah! Thanks for setting me straight….

At this archive, comments always span the whole story - they're not split up by chapter. So whether you're looking at chapter 1 or 34, or at all chapters on one page, you'll always see the same list of comments - all the comments the story has accumulated over it's lifespan, with the oldest at the top, and the most recent at the bottom. Therefore, multi-chaptered stories always carry a warning saying comments may contain spoilers, as they may refer to something that happens in a later chapter.
- the archivist

— cats_meeeow    Wednesday 25 June 2008, 1:36    #

This is most excellent. Looking forward to more.

— Xyphe    Thursday 4 September 2008, 6:52    #

i have been reading this story for the last like two weeks coz seriously bordering on like war and peace with the epic-ness of this tale. but i absolutely adore it and i love the way you’ve weaved the characters lives and i totally cannot wait to find out what happens next.

magos    Friday 5 September 2008, 3:32    #

WooHoo an Update YAY!!!!!!! MORE PLEASE!!!! I LOVE THIS STORY!!!! Lpve Boro and Fara. Can’t wait for Fara to meet Estel in person. Not to mention Eowyn. WOOT this story kicks ASS!!! ;3 so please update more!

— mokona    Saturday 28 February 2009, 3:58    #

I really hope there’s going to be more… this story is brilliant. But somehow I don’t think there’s going to be any more updates… the last one was ages ago.
But if you read this: Please continue! I’m begging you…

— Gwydia    Sunday 29 August 2010, 11:31    #

I just found this, and there are really, no words to describe my epic love. I hope to see more eventually!

— Shadow Spires    Saturday 2 October 2010, 0:55    #

I admit that, though I would often read and reread this story, I didn’t hold much hope of it ever progressing past chapter 34. My shock is surpassed only by my utter delight to see a new chapter today. Thank you thank you thank you!

— LN Tora    Tuesday 15 May 2012, 1:50    #

Hel!!! If I had to pick one story I’ve always wanted to see finished, it is this one. In my opinion the most brilliant refashioning of the texts available. The amount of thought in the old religion, allegiance-fasting, realities of subversive politics — you have (re)created a world. I can’t wait to read on! Thank you!!

— Vanwa Hravani    Thursday 17 May 2012, 13:05    #

Are you going to make more? This is a good story.

— Evie    Tuesday 26 June 2012, 19:14    #

I had read this several years ago and i thought then how amazing this fic was and is, i’m unsure if you have any plans of ever continuing but know that its a great fic, and if you ever want someone to throw ideas with email me!I’ve greatly enjoyed this and will always come back to it

— minoki    Thursday 9 March 2017, 3:43    #

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