Lotr Fanfic "In the Course of Time 03/07"
In the Course of Time - PART 3
***
When they had ridden back into the city and had their horses settled in the stables, they made their way over to the Golden Hall. They had just entered when the doorward, Háma if Haldir remembered correctly, stepped into their way.
“Lord Éomer, the King asked for you.”
The Man nodded immediately. “Thank you, Háma. I will go to see him right now.”
Éomer watched the ward retreat before he turned to Haldir. “I am sorry, but I have to leave you. I have to go to my uncle.”
Haldir gave a small nod with his lips slightly quirked to a smile . “Do not worry, my friend. I am in royal service as well, I understand that very well.”
The Man held his gaze, his eyes showing that he really regretted the course the evening had taken the moment they had entered the hall. There was more in those green eyes, but Haldir was not able to read it.
“Thank you.” the Man said quietly before stepping back.
Haldir was well aware that those words did not only refer to the understanding he had provided, but that they were meant for the whole evening. It made him feel good and he let his smile show. “You are most welcome.”
“I will see you in the morning, Haldir.” the Rohirrim replied with a crooked smile, deliberately using the Elf's name. Haldir felt a shiver run down his spine at the sound of his name from Éomer's lips with this nice dark timbre in his voice. Haldir watched the Man leave the hall towards the quarters of his uncle and decided to retreat to the room he shared with the Hobbit Merry. It would do him good to get a full night of sleep. Especially after this rather active bath, he thought with a grin.
The room was empty when Haldir entered and he savoured the solitude and the silence. He removed his outer tunics and his boots and lay down in the bed. He stared at the beams of the wooden ceiling, replaying the bath in his mind. It had been bold to approach the Man, but Haldir had felt this tension between them from the first meeting on and he had been certain it was mutual. He obviously had been right, Éomer had indeed been as interested as he was himself and their lovemaking had been very satisfactory. The memory alone made Haldir's skin prickle.
It took Haldir a long time to find sleep and he still heard the Hobbit coming in and going to bed. He woke with the first sunbeams filtering into the room and got up to. He dressed and went outside to enjoy the early morning in the garden behind the Golden Hall. He sat on the bench where Éomer had apologised to him and let the sun caress his face. The sun was for Elves as vital as water was for Men and Haldir had always taken great pleasure in a sunbath in the morning.
When he entered the hall, servants were running between the tables and set up bread, cheese, meat, ale and water for breakfast. Haldir joined Legolas at one table, shortly followed by the Dwarf and the Hobbit. With a searching glance Haldir found Éomer standing with his uncle and his sister. The Man shortly returned his gaze before he went back to talking with his uncle. Haldir began to eat, he and Legolas were listening to the other two chatting happily about everything and nothing when the door flung open and Haldir heard Aragorn run in before he even saw him.
“The beacons of Minas Tirith! The beacons are lit! Gondor calls for aid!”
The few seconds it took for the King to reply seemed to stretch unbearably. Haldir's heart filled with relief when he heard the King say: “And Rohan will answer. Muster the Rohirrim!”
A few orders were given and Haldir saw the Third Marshal nod before the Man looked at his sister who stood next to him and gently touched her arm before turning to leave the hall. He let his gaze linger on Haldir for a moment before stepping outside. There was no time to talk and Haldir did not like to part from the Man without having had the opportunity to address the events of the last night. It was obvious to both of them that it had not only been a pleasure for one night. But now was neither the time nor the right place to talk and Haldir knew that as well as the Man.
Within an hour, the Rohirrim Riders, the Elven archers and their leaders mounted their horses, ready to move out to the different parts of the Riddermark to muster whatever troops possible. Haldir rode next to Aragorn, watching Éomer who led the forces with his uncle. War was close now and Haldir hoped dearly he would get a chance to talk to the Man before they entered battle.
***
Éomer and his riders left the main forces after half a day's ride, shortly after the troops from the Second Marshal had split from them to ride for the villages and small towns that spread through the Mark. It would take the full two days the King had given him to muster the men of his part of the Mark, Éomer knew, and they would have to ride fast to reach to Dunharrow in time.
He let a short gaze wander over the forces that stayed with his uncle, looking for the captain of the Elves. He rode next to Aragorn, the Elven troops following on the horses the Rohirrim had provided for them. He was elegant and obviously skilled on horseback, falling effortlessly into pace with the movements of his horse. He was beautiful, just his sight made Éomer remember the activities of the last night and brought colour into his cheeks at the thought of the things they had done. He knew he wanted to repeat the experience and was certain that the Elf felt the same way. There had been something between them, something that had made him feel connected to Haldir in a way he had never felt before.
He and his eored moved further and further away from the main forces until they were out of sight. Éomer resolutely banished all thoughts of the Elf from is mind and concentrated on the task at hand. They were preparing for war, this was not the time to muse on his Elven lover. He was not certain lover was the right term for what they had, but it was the only one he could think of.
The day was mostly spent in riding from one village to the next, announcing the war and mustering whatever men were able to fight. Their forces grew steadily and they spent the night outside a small village before continuing the mustering in the early morning. There was much to do, the men who joined the troops were not always well equipped with weaponry or armour, but every one owned a horse. When they would arrive at Dunharrow, there would be a lot to do to supply an equal level of equipment for all Rohirrim, Éomer noticed during the mustering.
They rode to as many towns as possible before they had to turn to reach Dunharrow by the evening. Éomer left some men to cover the remaining villages with the task to ride to Minas Tirith to meet up with the main forces. Every man would count when they met with Sauron's army, even if they joined later.
When Éomer and his forces arrived at the valley of Harrowdale, there were already several thousand men assembled on the field in front of the Dunharrow plateau. Éomer organised an area for his men to set up camp before he went looking for his uncle to report the number of men he had been able to muster. He let Firefoot slowly walk through the encampment, always letting his gaze search between the masses of tents that covered the fields in the valley. When he turned towards the plateau, he could make out a group of riders led by his uncle and Aragorn. Behind them he recognised Legolas and Gimli on their horse and next to them Haldir on Merod. He had managed to banish the Elf from his mind while mustering the troops, there had been enough to do to keep him occupied. But now that he saw Haldir in front of him, the strong, but graceful movements and the fierce, but elegant face, he felt a wave of desire hit him that surprised him in its strength.
Gods, he wanted the Elf. After tasting him, Éomer instinctively knew he would never be satisfied by anybody else. It had only been little more than a day since he had last seen Haldir, and yet the urge to touch him was nearly overwhelming. Éomer held back, well aware of the company of thousands of warriors and the fact that they were at the middle of the preparations to ride for war. Firefoot carried him over to join the group that was about to ride through the encampment towards the plateau of Dunharrow that overlooked the valley. When he reached the riders, his uncle greeted him and asked for his men. Less had come than they had hoped for, but there was still time until the morning when they had to leave for Gondor.
Haldir was behind him and Éomer regretted that he could not see or talk to him while riding in front with his uncle. They crossed the encampment, asking for the number of men the other parties had been able to muster and then rode up the small zigzagged path to Dunharrow. There was already a camp set up on the plateau, the royal tents mixed with several smaller ones for the leaders of the forces and some fireplaces were burning. They dismounted and the King left them.
Éomer took Firefoot over to the other horses to take care of him. When he started to take off the saddle, he noticed Aragorn, Legolas and Haldir who had followed him and unsaddled their horses as well.
“You brought many Men, Horselord.” Legolas remarked and carefully groomed Arod.
“Not enough, though.” Éomer admitted worriedly and carried some hay over to Firefoot. He used the short way back to look at Haldir and found the Elf watching him with an intense gaze.
“Let us not loose hope.” Aragorn replied. “The morning has not come yet.”
“I wish I was as confident of the future as you are.” Éomer said wistfully. “But I know that the fighting strength of my people is not enough to defeat the troops of Mordor.”
“It may not be, but it still make a difference.” Aragorn sounded sincere. “Minas Tirith is not lost as long as we are still there to come to its aid.”
“Let us hope so.” Éomer finished taking care of Firefoot and waited for Haldir to finish as well. He wanted to be alone with the Elf somewhere, so he invited him into his tent when Aragorn excused himself to join Éomer's uncle, and Legolas left with Gimli. Haldir nodded and accepted the offer without a word and followed the Man through the camp to a tent of medium size.
“It is good to see you.” he heard the Elf say the moment the flap of the tent had fallen closed and he felt the slightly rough voice make a shiver run down his spine. This were the first words Haldir had spoken since they had parted for the mustering over a day ago. Éomer turned to look at the Elf and found the beautiful face impassive, but the eyes were burning.
“I can only return that.” To his surprise, Éomer noticed his voice was no less rough than the Elf's. He did not want to talk now, he wanted to grab Haldir and kiss him, feel him, taste him. Eyes fixed on the Elf, he licked his lips and took a careful step towards him, not entirely certain he was welcome. They had not had a chance to talk since that bath in the stream and it was only the darkening of the Elf's eyes that gave Éomer the courage to take another step, cup his face and put his lips on Haldir's.
Éomer heard the blood rush in his ears and enjoyed the feeling of the soft lips under his. He felt how Haldir's hands settled on his waist and pulled him closer. It was easy to forget the strength the Elf possessed, but when those arms closed around him Éomer sensed their power and he secretly took pleasure in the instinctive knowledge that Haldir could easily overpower him but never would. Éomer let his hands wander over the exposed skin of the Elf's neck, deepening the kiss and finding Haldir fighting him for dominance with his tongue. The Elf's hands found the buckles of the shoulder protection and the cuirass and skilfully opened them, shedding the Man of his armour and letting the parts fall to the ground with an audible chunk.
Haldir let go of his mouth just long enough to pull the chain mail over Éomer's head before he was back kissing him, hands in the blond curls and pulling the Man close. Never had Éomer had a lover who was this passionate in physical contact and so disciplined and arrogant in daily life. It turned him on to know the Elf let go of his controlled façade with him and wanted to touch him. Éomer let his fingers find the fastenings of Haldir's armour, determined to get rid of it as the Elf had done with his.
One part after the other fell to the ground under Éomer's fingers after the Elf had shaken off his cloak. The Man found that Haldir did not wear a chain mail under his armour, only a leathern outer tunic, and worried for a split second if that was enough protection. He did not want his Elf to get hurt. Haldir's mouth wandering over his jaw and down his neck made it difficult to keep his mind focussed, though, and Éomer let out a barely suppressed moan.
“Shhh, mellon, we do not want the whole camp to hear us.” Haldir's voice was low and husky and the Man could feel his breath where the Elf nibbled the sensible skin behind his ear.
“You are right, we cannot do this here.” Éomer said reluctantly. “This is neither the time nor the place.”
The Elf stopped nibbling and sighted regretfully, but did not let go of the Man. “Aye, I know.”
“We did not exactly pick the best time to find each other.” Éomer stated dryly, his hands slowly caressing the Elf's back through the leathern tunic.
Haldir chuckled and the Man felt goosebumps spread all over his skin from the feeling of the warm breath on his neck. “You could say that.”
“Let us find something to eat.” Éomer suggested, reluctantly letting go of Haldir and arranging his slightly rumpled tunic. “Otherwise we will not leave the tent anymore. That would certainly raise suspicions.”
“I can only agree.” the Elf said with a regretful undertone in his voice and took a step back, flattening his own tunic.
“Well, we have to eat anyway. We will need our strength tomorrow and in the next days.” Éomer remarked and held the flap of the tent open for his lover.
***
Éowyn watched Merry with a smile on her face as he ran towards the smithy, swinging his sword in enthusiastic blows.
“You should not encourage him.” she heard the voice of her brother who sat at a fire next to the tent she had been in with Merry.
“You should not doubt him.” Éowyn turned to him, her tone slightly chiding.
“I do not doubt his heart, but the reach of his arm.” he answered and Éowyn hated the sarcasm in his voice.
“Just because he is smaller than you it does not give him any less reason to fight than you.” She tried to stay reasonable and to not let her temper get the better of her. She loved her brother dearly, but sometimes his ready-made opinions enraged her.
“I have to agree with you, Lady Éowyn.” It was but then that she noticed the captain of the Elven archers who sat next to her brother at the fire. “These are wise words.”
“They are no warriors.” her brother continued nonetheless. “They stand no chance in battle.”
“You are too short sighted, Éomer.” Éowyn was surprised how easily and with what familiarity the Elf used her brother's name and how quietly chiding his tone was. “Every weapon makes a difference in battle, and those fighting with their heart are sometimes more effective than those fighting only with their skill.”
“But without skill, there is no fighting, Haldir.” Éomer replied and now Éowyn was truly intrigued. The familiarity was mutual, she realised when her brother easily called the Elf by his name. She had the distinct feeling that this was not the first time they stood on opposite sides in a conversation. “When the fear takes him, and the blood and the streams and the horror of battle take hold, do you think he would stand and fight? He would flee, and he would be right to do so.”
“Nay, Éomer, I think you underestimate the Hobbit.” the Elven captain said quietly. “Do not let yourself be fooled by the exterior. Hobbits are far sturdier and far more courageous that they might appear.”
“And why should Merry be left behind? He has as much cause to go to war as you.” Éowyn came two steps closer to the fire and held her gaze focussed on her brother. “Why should he not fight for those he loves?”
“You know as little of war as that hobbit.” her brother said in a voice that almost sounded defeated. “Battle is cruel, Éowyn. It is ruthless, unjust and arbitrary. There is nothing romantic about it, and even if you survive, it will always haunt you. You should not encourage the hobbit to go through that.”
Éowyn felt a shiver run down her spine. It was the first time she had ever heard her brother talk so honestly about war, and she understood that all the years he had spent in battle had not left him untouched. Her gaze flickered over to the Elf and she saw him regard her brother with an expression that was a mix of understanding, worried and caring. It hit her in that split second that there had to be more between the Elf and her brother than met the eye.
“It is not better to stay behind.” Éowyn said quietly. “You can believe me, it haunts you just as much when your loved ones do not return and you were not there to defend them. Being unable to fight gives you a feeling of helplessness that you can never forget.”
She turned and went back into the tent. She did not feel like any more conversation of this kind, it threatened to take away the calm she needed to carry through her plan. She never doubted for a moment that what she was about to do was the right way and that she would do it, but she knew she needed a calm mind to not let anything happen that could prevent her from riding into battle with her people. Éowyn looked to the entry of the tent into the direction where her brother and the Elven captain sat at the fire. Éomer might be right about the horrors of battle, but she preferred a million times to suffer from something she had done that she knew was right than to be eaten alive by the helplessness that came from not doing anything.
***
Haldir watched the dispute between brother and sister and sensed that Éomer was trying to protect his sister without letting her know. She was a fierce spirit and Haldir instinctively knew she would not appreciate to be protected and that she felt entirely capable of doing so herself. He did not doubt that she could, either, when he had seen her train in the garden behind the Golden Hall in the very early morning hours it had been plain that she was very skilled with the sword.
Éomer did not only want to keep bodily harm from her, however, the damage that battle left even if you came out physically mostly unharmed. Every warrior had seen his share of horror that stuck to his mind and Haldir understood that Éomer wanted to spare his sister the pain. But he could also identify with Éowyn's point, he remembered times when he had been too young to be allowed into battle and he still recalled the overwhelming powerlessness when he stood at the forest border and saw his father leaving for battle. It had nearly killed him not to be allowed to go with him and he had felt such a strong urge to scream out his helplessness. He knew he would always prefer the horrors of battle to staying behind in safety, and so did Lady Éowyn.
Haldir watched the woman retreat to her tent and turned his gaze to her brother. Éomer sat still, looking into the flames, brows furrowed. “Let us go to sleep, mellon. Tomorrow will be a very demanding day and we will need all rest we can get.”
The Man raised his gaze, then nodded. “You are right.”
Haldir watched Éomer get up and followed him into his tent. It had never been a question for them if they would share the tent or not, it was understood between them they would spend the night together, even if only in sleep. Inside, Haldir removed his boot and his outer leathern tunic before he settled on the makeshift bed. He enjoyed the quiet peace that had come over him and the Man, and his heart rejoiced silently when Éomer wordlessly lay down next to him and put his head on Haldir's shoulder. He knew it was a sign of trust that the fierce Man showed him his need for comfort and allowed him to hold him, especially since they had not known each other for very long.
“Are you all right?” Haldir asked in a low voice and let his hand slowly caress the Man's neck under the thick blonde hair.
“I am fine. It overcame me. I do not want Éowyn to glorify battle.” Éomer murmured against his shoulder, but he did not move.
“You can understand her point, can you not?” Haldir pointed out quietly.
“Of course I can.” the Man answered equally gentle, his hand absent-mindedly stroking the skin of Haldir's chest. “I remember the times when I had to stay behind when I was young. I hated it with passion. But I prefer Éowyn staying behind and being furious to dead on the battlefield.”
Haldir gently pressed his lips against Éomer's temple. “She is strong and fierce. You cannot keep her in safety forever. She will escape her cage at one point.”
The Man let out a deep sigh. “I know. But I can try to protect her as long as possible.”
“I saw her train in the garden behind the Golden Hall.” Haldir told him, silently enjoying the trusting closeness of the Man. “She is a very skilled swordsman.”
Haldir felt Éomer chuckle against his shoulder. “She always trains so early in the morning that most people are still asleep and nobody sees her. I trained with her for a long time, but I do not think that our uncle is aware of the depth of her skill.”
“So you do know she is capable to fight in battle.” Haldir asked and regretted for a moment that he could not see his lover's face.
“Aye, I do. But I do not want her to know the horrors of battler.” Éomer's voice was very quiet as if he was lost in unpleasant memories.
“Do you have nightmares?” Haldir was not sure he would receive an answer to such a personal question. Éomer valued his independence and his strength highly, and he would probably see nightmares as a sign of weakness.
For some time, the Man remained silent. Only Haldir's sharp hearing made it possible for him to pick up the very quiet “Sometimes.”
“I have several battles that haunt me.” the Elf admitted gently. This was a time for complete honesty. “The memories always come when I do not expect them.”
“I know what you mean.” Éomer's hand was still caressing Haldir's skin, but the Man seemed unaware of his touch. “There are some things you just can never forget.”
“That is true.” Haldir let his fingers run through the Man's hair in a soothing caress.
“We should go to sleep.” Éomer said after a moment. “We will ride hard in the next days.”
“Sleep well, mellon.” Haldir murmured gently. He could tell the moment that his lover was taken over by sleep and was glad that he needed far less rest than the Man so he could take pleasure in watching Éomer sleep. He seemed so much younger when the strain of the day left his features, his mouth relaxed and a peaceful expression on his face. Haldir let his hand caress the wild blond hair for a long time before he fell asleep himself.
It was before sunrise that Haldir woke up. He was well trained to leave sleep at whatever time necessary and when he did, he found his lover still asleep. The Man had unconsciously cuddled up behind him, one arm possessively around his waist. Haldir enjoyed the feeling of Éomer's warm body pressed against his back and dearly regretted that he had to wake the Man up and disturb their closeness.
He turned in the embrace and gently kissed Éomer on the forehead. “Wake up, mellon. The morning has come.”
The Man stirred, then woke up with the obvious routine of a man used to getting up at very early hours. He opened his eyes and watched Haldir for a moment, then a little smile spread over his face. “Good morning, my friend.”
Haldir could not help to return the smile. “Good morning.”
Éomer stifled a yawn, then started to let go of the Elf. “If we do not get up now, we will not at all.”
Haldir chuckled. “That might happen.”
“It is a pity we cannot do so right now.” Éomer stretched and got out of the makeshift bed, then put on his boots against the cold of the earthen ground.
Haldir regretted the loss of the Man's closeness, but did not let it show. He rose as well and grabbed his boots. “As you have stated yesterday, now is truly not the right time for such pleasure.”
“Indeed.” Éomer started to put on his armour and Haldir watched him out of the corner of the eye. The Man looked very good with his red-brown cuirass, very different from an Elven warrior. Not elegant and emotionless, but wild and strong. Haldir stopped just watching and instead joined Éomer in the centre of the tent to put on his own armour. The practice of years let them finish dressing within a very short time and Haldir started to move towards the entry of the tent to get out and find something for breakfast.
“Wait a moment.” Haldir stopped in his step at Éomer's voice and turned towards the Man who was but a step behind him.
“We will not be able to do this in the next days.” the Rohirrim said quietly, cupping Haldir's face and pulling him close to kiss him slowly and thoroughly. The Elf let himself lean into the touch, enjoying the feeling of the Man's lips on his and his tongue caressing the inside of his mouth. He had not expected the tenderness Éomer showed him on some occasions when he had first approached the Man, but he found himself to like this gentle side of the warrior.
Éomer slowly released him and Haldir reluctantly pulled back. It was truly not the right time for this kind of pleasure, even though he would have liked it to be. They had to concentrate on the task at hand, however, the war for Gondor and Middle Earth were about to begin.
The next days were spend mostly on horseback. They rode hard and only rested long after dark had set in. On the second day, King Theoden decided to ride through the night after the scouts had reported that the White City was under siege. Truthful to Éomer's prediction, Haldir saw little of the Man during the ride to Minas Tirith. There was no privacy when they set camp for the night and during the days Haldir rode with his Elven warriors while Éomer led the Rohirrim Riders that were under his command. They could only speak for some minutes here or there, but the surrounding warriors kept them from any touch.
When they arrived on the planes of the Pelennor Fields that surrounded Minas Tirith, Haldir took a deep breath at the sight of the massive army of evil that had gathered around the White City. It reminded him strongly of Helm's Deep, and he felt a shiver run down his spine. This was going to be a very hard battle, his experience told him. They had to defeat Sauron's army, or the war for Middle Earth was lost.
The Rohirric horns let their sound travel over the planes and announced the help that Gondor was in dire need of. Haldir felt the Merod dance nervously under him, the horse was as much feeling the upcoming war as its rider. Haldir crossed in front of his Elves who were patiently sitting on the horses the Rohirrim had provided for them, listening to Haldir's commands. The thrill of battle started to pulsate in his veins and Haldir could see it in Éomer's eyes as well when they met to form the lead of their troops.
“For Rohan!” King Theoden called and Haldir, Éomer and the other marshals began to ride with him towards the army of Orcs, Uruk-Hai and whatever evil creatures tried to invade Minas Tirith. Behind them they could feel the men following them by the vibration caused by thousands of hoofs on the ground. They took up speed, gaining momentum to crush into the enemy lines, and galloped through the Orcs, riding them down with their sheer mass. Haldir felt the rush of excitement that always filled him in battle and that made his senses sharper, his reactions faster and his concentration perfect. His arrows hit enemy after enemy, then his sword met flesh, cut through throats and limbs.
Haldir lost his sense of time, as he always did in battle, he just lived from one moment to the next, from one killed Orc to the next. He felt light headed when he noticed the retreat of the evil forces, thinking that it had been too easy and too fast a victory. It was then that he saw what the Rohirrim warriors were staring at, the shapes of a row of oliphaunts approaching at full speed, the sound of them still remote but easily audible for sharp Elven ears. He felt a shiver running down his back that was caused as much by terror as by anticipation. Haldir let Merod cross in front of his warriors, screaming commands to reform the line, same as the other commanders did next to him. Then they rode forwards, galloped right towards the massive animals with their deadly tusks and feet.
The first contact with the oliphaunts cost many men, the archers on top of the colossal animals adding to the losses with their well-aimed shots. Haldir let Merod ride on his own accord and fired arrow after arrow at the top of the oliphants, trying to take out the persons guiding the animals to make them headless. Éomer seemed to have had the same idea, Haldir noticed when he saw the Man throwing a spear at a guide, hitting him and letting one oliphaunt run into another. The Elf laughed satisfied, two of those horrible beast less were a good result for one spear.
Haldir continued shooting until he ran out of arrows, then he took up his two swords, cutting through whatever evil came in front of them. It was then that he saw the Hobbit, held by an Uruk-Hai, but fighting him determinedly. Haldir jumped off Merod and ran over to the Hobbit, letting his blades bite through the Uruk-Hai's back. The creature released the Hobbit and he jumped free, looking up to his unexpected helper. Haldir recognised Merry even with his helmet and nodded to him before slaying the next approaching Orc. The Hobbit joined the fight and Haldir noticed approvingly that the halfling was not at all untalented with his small sword. He had been right, Hobbits were sturdy.
Fighting one enemy after the other, Haldir had the feeling there was no end to the evil forces. He had lost sight of the Hobbit at some point, concentrating on killing as many Orcs as possible, when a large Uruk-Hai ran towards him, screaming and swinging his sword. Haldir avoided the blade, ducked, came up again and lashed out at the enemy with his own swords. He hit the creature on its left side, but it was fast. Haldir just felt the blade scratch his left arm and tumbled a bit while trying to get out of the way of the blow when he heard the sound of metal against metal right behind his back, far to close for his liking. A quick gaze out of the corner of the eye showed him that Éomer had blocked a stroke aimed at Haldir's back that probably would have been deadly. There was no time to muse, though, as the Uruk-Hai in front of the Elf attacked again. It took Haldir a few well aimed blows to take him out, but the next was already approaching.
In his back, he heard the Man defending himself and was for a split second surprised at the ease with which the they fell into fighting together. Backs turned to each other, they kept close while attacking the approaching Orcs and covered each other's back. It was the first time they really fought together, but there were no words needed, they just seemed to act in perfect sync. It was a connection Haldir had so far only experienced with his brothers, and he had been fighting together with them for millennia. He had never expected to find it with a Man.
They stayed close, both realising how effective they were together, and continued to fight the army of evil creatures. There was not a second to catch their breath, but Haldir was high on the excitement of battle and felt neither pain nor weariness. He had not the faintest idea how long the battle had been going on at that point, but it was not important. The only things that counted was the feeling of his blade cutting through the evil forces and the knowledge of Éomer in his back.
At one point, when Haldir turned to face the next Orc, none came. He looked around, let his eyes wander over the battlefield and assessed the situation. There were Men and Elves standing, slaying the last Orcs, but the power of the evil forces seemed to be broken. Haldir could make out a greenish glow he identified as the Dead Men of Dunharrow that could only be summoned by the true king of Gondor. He felt himself smile. Aragorn had come to their aid in the right moment.
Haldir relaxed his posture a little bit, standing up straight to his full hight. The swords were still in his hands, ready to come to action in case of an attack. He turned slowly towards the Man behind him whose posture gradually relaxed as well, despite him still being alert. Not long afterwards they were walking the field, looking for survivors and killing the Orcs that were still alive, just as they had done at Helm's Deep. Haldir was relieved to see the Hobbit, Mithrandir, Aragorn, Legolas and even the Dwarf alive and well while they slowly walked the field. A defeated silence had settled over the battlefield, the kind of silence that nearly made you shiver.
When Haldir heard a scream so filled with agony that he hardly recognised Éomer's voice, he spun around just in time to see the Man let go of his sword and his helmet and fall to his knees to cradle somebody in his arms. Pure anguish was written on his face and it took Haldir a moment to realise that the person in his arms was his sister before Éomer let off a second cry that made Haldir's blood freeze. He felt unable to move for a few seconds before he broke his paralysis and started to run towards the Man. Aragorn had already reached him and seemed to talk to him and succeeded to get Éomer to stand up, his sister still cradled in his arms.
“She is alive, Éomer. We need to get her to Minas Tirith.” Aragorn's voice was calm, but firm and urgent. “Now, Éomer. Get a horse and follow me to the healers.”
The Rohirrim nodded, he seemed to have gotten a grip on his emotions, enough at least to do what was necessary. Haldir could see the raw pain in his eyes, though, and wished he could do something to help the Man. All he could do was to summon two horses from another Rohirrim not to far away from them and look the Man straight in the eyes when he offered to hold Éowyn until the Rohirrim had mounted one of the horses. The Man hesitated only a split second, then trusted him with his precious load while he got on the horse.
Haldir looked into the deadly pale face of the Lady of Rohan when he held her light weight in his arms and felt his heart tighten. He had seen the love and deep care the siblings held for each other and knew how much she meant to Éomer. He raised his gaze to find the Man seated and lifted Éowyn into his arms. The Rohirrim nodded slightly to let Haldir know he appreciated his help, little as it was. Then he set off before Haldir could mount the second horse and followed Aragorn who was already in a straight gallop towards the White City. Within seconds, Haldir joined the Rohirrim on the way to the healers.
The journey did not take long, after a short while they entered the city and rode through the streets towards the top. When they stopped their horses next to Aragorn's, a young boy waited for them with orders to lead them to the makeshift bed that Aragorn prepared for the injured Lady in the House of Healing. Éomer set his sister very carefully onto the linen and stepped aside to give Aragorn the space he needed to work. He perched himself onto a little box that stood next to the bed and kept his worried glance focussed on his sister.
Feeling utterly helpless, Haldir just stood behind the Man and watched Aragorn trying his best to cure the Lady of Rohan from the evil that had infected her. He treated her with Athelas, the herb that, when used by the rightful heir to the throne of Gondor, had so immense healing powers that it should help the Lady. Haldir could read pain, worry and fear in Éomer's posture and a look on his face proved him right. His hands were clenched into fists and he seemed to be solely focussed on his sister while his worry was eating him alive. In an attempt to convey support and a measure of comfort, Haldir put his hand on Éomer's shoulder and squeezed slightly. First he thought the Man had not noticed it, but then he felt Éomer's hand slowly closing over his and holding on for dear life.
When Aragorn tended to the Lady's injuries, Gandalf came over to them and caught Haldir's eyes, giving him a very worried glance that told the Elf that more bad news were to come. The wizard stopped next to Éomer and put his hand on the Man's free shoulder. Éomer turned towards the wizard.
“I am very sorry, Éomer. We found your uncle on the battlefield.” Gandalf's voice was gentle but firm, his eyes showing that he understood Éomer's pain very well.
Haldir felt a barely contained tremor go through his lover's body. The Rohirrim closed his eyes and an expression of pain crossed his features and the grip on Haldir's hand tightened considerably. Haldir returned the grasp, then he saw Éomer take a deep breath as if to steady himself and he opened his eyes to look at the wizard.
“What happened?” Éomer's voice was astonishingly firm, but Haldir felt the little shaking of the Man's hand over his.
“He was crushed under Snowmane. Several soldiers told us he was attacked by the Nazgul of the Witch King.” Gandalf nodded towards the Lady who still lay motionless on the sickbed. “It was your sister who defended your uncle. She challenged the Witch King over his life. She killed the Evil Lord with the help of Merry.”
Haldir gasped silently as he realised what that meant. “'No living Man can kill him'. But a woman and a Hobbit are no Men, they were the part of the few ones on that battlefield who could defeat the Evil Lord.”
The expression on Éomer's face was one of pure astonishment, then it changed to pride and he looked down onto his sister, eyes filled with love and concern. “There is more to her than meets the eye.”
“Aye.” Gandalf smiled. “But I am certain you knew that already.”
More hours had past when the Lady finally started to move slightly, when her breathing changed and she slowly opened the eyes. Haldir felt Éomer tense before he bend forward to move into his sister's range of vision. She seemed to be dazed and sleepy, but she focussed first on Aragorn who was bent over her, than she seemed to feel her brother slowly caress her face and gave him a weak smile.
“Do not worry, Éowyn, you are safe. The battle was won.” Haldir heard the slight shaking in Éomer's voice and let his hand reassuringly caress the Man's neck under the thick blonde hair. Lady Éowyn seemed to be soothed by the words and the sound of her brother's voice and closed her eyes again.
“She will get better, Éomer, she just needs much rest.” Aragorn said and sat back, his posture speaking of relief. “She will sleep now and that is the best healing she can have at the moment. She is strong and will overcome her injuries.”
Haldir heard Éomer let out a relieved sigh. “Thank you, Aragorn. Thank you that you saved her.”
Aragorn showed an small smile. “You should thank her. She saved us when she defeated the Witch King.”
“I will.” The Rohirrim's voice sounded sincere. “And then I will tear her off a strip for going into battle without anybody in her back.”
“Oh, she had somebody in her back.” Haldir remarked. “The Hobbit Merry was with her. And I think they fought well, after all they defeated the Witch King who could not be killed by any Man, but by a Hobbit and a woman. Maybe it was their destiny, Éomer.”
The Man was silent for a moment, obviously thinking about what he had just heard. “Aye, maybe it was.”
“Get some rest yourself, Éomer.” Aragorn said insistently. “There is nothing you can do here for your sister now, but to take care of your own wounds.”
“I know.” Haldir watched the Man bend forwards and kiss his sister gently on the forehead. After that Éomer rose, looking at his sister a last time and turned to leave. Haldir followed him closely on the way to find Mithrandir who had taken over the organisation of Minas Tirith as long as nobody else was up to it. The wizard appointed them a room in the mostly unharmed King's House to tend to their wounds and rest and had a servant boy show them the way.
The moment the door closed Haldir felt himself being pressed against the wall by Éomer's whole body, then hungry and desperate lips were on his and kissed him hard and demandingly. This was yet another side of the Man, he realised, the passion born of despair, that he only showed to those he trusted. Haldir felt his body react to the assault on his senses, he actually enjoyed Éomer's rough passion, a trait Elves rarely to never showed. He understood why Éomer reacted like this, the Man wanted to reassure himself of Haldir's well-being, of life in general. He needed a way to let off stem and Haldir happened to be there and to be trusted enough that Éomer dared to let down his guard.
Haldir opened to his lover, leaning into the touch of the hands and letting his fingers loose the fastenings of Éomer's shoulder protection and joining the Man's attempts to free them both from their bloodstained armours. He understood Éomer's urge to feel alive, found himself needing to touch the Man as badly as the Rohirrim needed to touch him. He pulled off his lover's chain mail and threw it carelessly aside before grabbing a handful of Éomer's hair and drawing him into a hard kiss. The Man's hands wandered over his body, tearing bloody fabric and freeing skin wherever they could, his lips always on Haldir's, tongues battling.
There was no gentleness in their touch but raw need. Haldir did not feel the pain from all the little cuts and bruises he had gotten during battle and instinctively knew his lover did not feel his own pain either. There would be a time later to tend to their physical injuries, now it was necessary to take care of their emotional needs. Haldir let out a moan when he felt Éomer bite along his jaw and then down his neck, definitely leaving marks, but Haldir did not care. He pushed his hands under the Man's tunic and removed it to have full access to the skin underneath. He noticed his lover's fingers had found the fastening of his trousers and had begun to open them, one hand teasingly cupping the obvious bulge under the fabric and giving it a slight massage. Haldir felt a deep throaty moan escape his mouth, the Man really knew what he was doing.
“I want you.” Haldir felt a shiver of pleasant anticipation run down his spine when he heard his lover speak those words with a deep, rough voice full of desire. “Will you let me?”
“Aye, meleth.” Not surprised his own voice was equally husky, Haldir arched back into the hand that had slipped into his trousers and cupped his backside. A second hand joined it and Haldir felt himself being lifted off the ground and he immediately slung his legs around his lover's waist, hands on his shoulders and lips seeking Éomer's. The Man carried him over to the bed at the other side of the room, constantly kissing him and massaging his buttocks.
Éomer let him down onto the bad and crawled on top of him, arms to each side of his head. Haldir decided it was time for some initiative of his own and undid the fastening of his lover's trousers and pulled the fabric down so he could settle his hand on the tempting backside underneath. Éomer let out a breathy moan and pushed his groin against Haldir's, proving that the excitement was mutual. Without much care the Man stripped Haldir and himself off their trousers and pushed the garments off the bed.
Haldir opened his legs, inviting his lover to settle in between. Éomer's hand found his erection and wrapped around it in a firm grip that made Haldir groan deep in his throat and his hips buckled. The Elf used his hands on the backside of his lover to press him down on him and indicate what he wanted. Éomer understood without a word, spit in his hand and let it slide down to prepare the Elf. His finger circled the hole, trying it and carefully entering. More spit was added and the fingers explored the interior of the Elf, finding what they were looking for when Haldir gasped aloud and threw his head back in pleasure. Éomer added another finger, obviously taking care to properly stretch his lover despite his own urge.
“Will this be enough?” Éomer's voice was breathy and Haldir moaned when the skilled fingers found that spot again.
“Aye, meleth. Do not worry.” Haldir was proud he was still able to form a coherent sentence. He only wanted to have his lover inside him, the urge so strong he did not really care if he hurt afterwards.
Éomer pulled his fingers back and positioned himself at his lover's entry. For a moment, the Man stilled and his eyes held Haldir's, wordlessly asking if he was ready. Haldir only nodded and pushed against him, making his desire clear. Éomer entered his lover in one long thrust, passionate, but still controlled enough to not hurt. He started thrusting, and when Haldir let out a gasp because Éomer had hit this certain spot, the Man kept the angle and rhythmically slid in and out of his lover. Haldir thrust back against him, arching his back and letting out breathy gasps, his fingers digging into his lover's shoulders.
They did not last long. When Éomer's hand wrapped around his throbbing erection, Haldir could not hold back any longer and felt completion hit him with all force. He heard himself groan his lover's name and clasp down around him and felt Éomer spill his seed inside him. With a hoarse moan the Man broke down over him, covering him with his whole body, breathing as heavily as Haldir himself. The Elf slid his arms around the back of his lover and tried to regain his breath.
After a moment, Éomer rolled off of him to lie beside him on his back and pulled Haldir close until the Elf lay alongside his body and had his head pillowed on the Man's shoulder. His fingers played with the long silvery strands and caressed his face and Haldir leaned into the touch.
“How are you?” the Elf asked gently, letting his fingers draw meaningless patterns through the chest hair that he found so fascinating. For some time, Éomer remained silent, then he let out a shuddering breath. He understood what the Elf had really asked.
“My uncle is dead. My sister lies in the House of Healing and her fate is not yet certain. Many of my men fell in battle.” The Man paused to take another breath. “I feel lost, but at the same time I know I have no time to grieve for I have to lead my people and show the strength they need.”
“You have that strength, meleth.” Haldir believed every word he said. He had not known this Man for long, but he had seen a character full of love for his people, led by passion as well as discipline and strength of mind.
“I am not so sure. I was never meant to rule Rohan. I was not prepared for this duty.” Éomer's voice was very quiet when he admitted his doubts, words he would probably never have said aloud to anybody else, apart for Lady Éowyn maybe.
“You are a natural leader, Éomer. Your Men follow you because they see and trust in your strength. Your people will do the same.”
“But I could not even protect my own sister.” The Man's voice was charged with guilt and self-reproach.
“Gods! She could have died as well, Haldir!” The Elf felt his heart ache at the broken sound of his lover's voice.
“But she did not.” Haldir gave his voice a reassuring sound. “She was meant to be on that battlefield, Éomer. You could not have prevented that.”
“Maybe.” The Man was silent for several minutes, just holding Haldir in his arms and slowly caressing his back.
“Thank you.” Haldir heard his lover murmur into his hair after a while.
“What for?”
“That you were there.” Éomer's voice was quiet and sincere. “You kept me sane when Éowyn lay like dead on that sickbed.”
“You are most welcome, meleth.” Haldir replied and kissed the skin under his lips. Éomer's hold on him tightened a little bit.
“And that you let me do that.” Now his voice sounded like he was embarrassed.
Haldir chuckled, he knew exactly what his lover referred to. “You passion is a rather fascinating trait, meleth.”
“I did not hurt you, did I?” The Man's voice was suddenly coloured with worry and concern. It made Haldir smile.
“No. Do not worry, I am very well able to prevent that from happening.” It was the truth, they both knew Haldir was superior in physical strength and it would be easy for him to stop Éomer at any point. It was his choice not to do so, his kind of giving in to his lover.
“Good.” Éomer sounded relieved. “Still, I will be more considerate next time.”
“I like your raw passion, meleth.” Haldir said quietly, raised his head and gently bit his lover's neck. “And I am not fragile, I can take your roughness and I enjoy it.”
Now it was Éomer who chuckled. “I got myself a naughty Elf, then.”
Haldir could not keep himself from laughing out aloud. It had been a long time since he had laughed like this and he enjoyed it deeply. “So it would seem.”
***
BACK TO INDEX: http://nanuk-dain.livejournal.com/3357.html
***
***
When they had ridden back into the city and had their horses settled in the stables, they made their way over to the Golden Hall. They had just entered when the doorward, Háma if Haldir remembered correctly, stepped into their way.
“Lord Éomer, the King asked for you.”
The Man nodded immediately. “Thank you, Háma. I will go to see him right now.”
Éomer watched the ward retreat before he turned to Haldir. “I am sorry, but I have to leave you. I have to go to my uncle.”
Haldir gave a small nod with his lips slightly quirked to a smile . “Do not worry, my friend. I am in royal service as well, I understand that very well.”
The Man held his gaze, his eyes showing that he really regretted the course the evening had taken the moment they had entered the hall. There was more in those green eyes, but Haldir was not able to read it.
“Thank you.” the Man said quietly before stepping back.
Haldir was well aware that those words did not only refer to the understanding he had provided, but that they were meant for the whole evening. It made him feel good and he let his smile show. “You are most welcome.”
“I will see you in the morning, Haldir.” the Rohirrim replied with a crooked smile, deliberately using the Elf's name. Haldir felt a shiver run down his spine at the sound of his name from Éomer's lips with this nice dark timbre in his voice. Haldir watched the Man leave the hall towards the quarters of his uncle and decided to retreat to the room he shared with the Hobbit Merry. It would do him good to get a full night of sleep. Especially after this rather active bath, he thought with a grin.
The room was empty when Haldir entered and he savoured the solitude and the silence. He removed his outer tunics and his boots and lay down in the bed. He stared at the beams of the wooden ceiling, replaying the bath in his mind. It had been bold to approach the Man, but Haldir had felt this tension between them from the first meeting on and he had been certain it was mutual. He obviously had been right, Éomer had indeed been as interested as he was himself and their lovemaking had been very satisfactory. The memory alone made Haldir's skin prickle.
It took Haldir a long time to find sleep and he still heard the Hobbit coming in and going to bed. He woke with the first sunbeams filtering into the room and got up to. He dressed and went outside to enjoy the early morning in the garden behind the Golden Hall. He sat on the bench where Éomer had apologised to him and let the sun caress his face. The sun was for Elves as vital as water was for Men and Haldir had always taken great pleasure in a sunbath in the morning.
When he entered the hall, servants were running between the tables and set up bread, cheese, meat, ale and water for breakfast. Haldir joined Legolas at one table, shortly followed by the Dwarf and the Hobbit. With a searching glance Haldir found Éomer standing with his uncle and his sister. The Man shortly returned his gaze before he went back to talking with his uncle. Haldir began to eat, he and Legolas were listening to the other two chatting happily about everything and nothing when the door flung open and Haldir heard Aragorn run in before he even saw him.
“The beacons of Minas Tirith! The beacons are lit! Gondor calls for aid!”
The few seconds it took for the King to reply seemed to stretch unbearably. Haldir's heart filled with relief when he heard the King say: “And Rohan will answer. Muster the Rohirrim!”
A few orders were given and Haldir saw the Third Marshal nod before the Man looked at his sister who stood next to him and gently touched her arm before turning to leave the hall. He let his gaze linger on Haldir for a moment before stepping outside. There was no time to talk and Haldir did not like to part from the Man without having had the opportunity to address the events of the last night. It was obvious to both of them that it had not only been a pleasure for one night. But now was neither the time nor the right place to talk and Haldir knew that as well as the Man.
Within an hour, the Rohirrim Riders, the Elven archers and their leaders mounted their horses, ready to move out to the different parts of the Riddermark to muster whatever troops possible. Haldir rode next to Aragorn, watching Éomer who led the forces with his uncle. War was close now and Haldir hoped dearly he would get a chance to talk to the Man before they entered battle.
***
Éomer and his riders left the main forces after half a day's ride, shortly after the troops from the Second Marshal had split from them to ride for the villages and small towns that spread through the Mark. It would take the full two days the King had given him to muster the men of his part of the Mark, Éomer knew, and they would have to ride fast to reach to Dunharrow in time.
He let a short gaze wander over the forces that stayed with his uncle, looking for the captain of the Elves. He rode next to Aragorn, the Elven troops following on the horses the Rohirrim had provided for them. He was elegant and obviously skilled on horseback, falling effortlessly into pace with the movements of his horse. He was beautiful, just his sight made Éomer remember the activities of the last night and brought colour into his cheeks at the thought of the things they had done. He knew he wanted to repeat the experience and was certain that the Elf felt the same way. There had been something between them, something that had made him feel connected to Haldir in a way he had never felt before.
He and his eored moved further and further away from the main forces until they were out of sight. Éomer resolutely banished all thoughts of the Elf from is mind and concentrated on the task at hand. They were preparing for war, this was not the time to muse on his Elven lover. He was not certain lover was the right term for what they had, but it was the only one he could think of.
The day was mostly spent in riding from one village to the next, announcing the war and mustering whatever men were able to fight. Their forces grew steadily and they spent the night outside a small village before continuing the mustering in the early morning. There was much to do, the men who joined the troops were not always well equipped with weaponry or armour, but every one owned a horse. When they would arrive at Dunharrow, there would be a lot to do to supply an equal level of equipment for all Rohirrim, Éomer noticed during the mustering.
They rode to as many towns as possible before they had to turn to reach Dunharrow by the evening. Éomer left some men to cover the remaining villages with the task to ride to Minas Tirith to meet up with the main forces. Every man would count when they met with Sauron's army, even if they joined later.
When Éomer and his forces arrived at the valley of Harrowdale, there were already several thousand men assembled on the field in front of the Dunharrow plateau. Éomer organised an area for his men to set up camp before he went looking for his uncle to report the number of men he had been able to muster. He let Firefoot slowly walk through the encampment, always letting his gaze search between the masses of tents that covered the fields in the valley. When he turned towards the plateau, he could make out a group of riders led by his uncle and Aragorn. Behind them he recognised Legolas and Gimli on their horse and next to them Haldir on Merod. He had managed to banish the Elf from his mind while mustering the troops, there had been enough to do to keep him occupied. But now that he saw Haldir in front of him, the strong, but graceful movements and the fierce, but elegant face, he felt a wave of desire hit him that surprised him in its strength.
Gods, he wanted the Elf. After tasting him, Éomer instinctively knew he would never be satisfied by anybody else. It had only been little more than a day since he had last seen Haldir, and yet the urge to touch him was nearly overwhelming. Éomer held back, well aware of the company of thousands of warriors and the fact that they were at the middle of the preparations to ride for war. Firefoot carried him over to join the group that was about to ride through the encampment towards the plateau of Dunharrow that overlooked the valley. When he reached the riders, his uncle greeted him and asked for his men. Less had come than they had hoped for, but there was still time until the morning when they had to leave for Gondor.
Haldir was behind him and Éomer regretted that he could not see or talk to him while riding in front with his uncle. They crossed the encampment, asking for the number of men the other parties had been able to muster and then rode up the small zigzagged path to Dunharrow. There was already a camp set up on the plateau, the royal tents mixed with several smaller ones for the leaders of the forces and some fireplaces were burning. They dismounted and the King left them.
Éomer took Firefoot over to the other horses to take care of him. When he started to take off the saddle, he noticed Aragorn, Legolas and Haldir who had followed him and unsaddled their horses as well.
“You brought many Men, Horselord.” Legolas remarked and carefully groomed Arod.
“Not enough, though.” Éomer admitted worriedly and carried some hay over to Firefoot. He used the short way back to look at Haldir and found the Elf watching him with an intense gaze.
“Let us not loose hope.” Aragorn replied. “The morning has not come yet.”
“I wish I was as confident of the future as you are.” Éomer said wistfully. “But I know that the fighting strength of my people is not enough to defeat the troops of Mordor.”
“It may not be, but it still make a difference.” Aragorn sounded sincere. “Minas Tirith is not lost as long as we are still there to come to its aid.”
“Let us hope so.” Éomer finished taking care of Firefoot and waited for Haldir to finish as well. He wanted to be alone with the Elf somewhere, so he invited him into his tent when Aragorn excused himself to join Éomer's uncle, and Legolas left with Gimli. Haldir nodded and accepted the offer without a word and followed the Man through the camp to a tent of medium size.
“It is good to see you.” he heard the Elf say the moment the flap of the tent had fallen closed and he felt the slightly rough voice make a shiver run down his spine. This were the first words Haldir had spoken since they had parted for the mustering over a day ago. Éomer turned to look at the Elf and found the beautiful face impassive, but the eyes were burning.
“I can only return that.” To his surprise, Éomer noticed his voice was no less rough than the Elf's. He did not want to talk now, he wanted to grab Haldir and kiss him, feel him, taste him. Eyes fixed on the Elf, he licked his lips and took a careful step towards him, not entirely certain he was welcome. They had not had a chance to talk since that bath in the stream and it was only the darkening of the Elf's eyes that gave Éomer the courage to take another step, cup his face and put his lips on Haldir's.
Éomer heard the blood rush in his ears and enjoyed the feeling of the soft lips under his. He felt how Haldir's hands settled on his waist and pulled him closer. It was easy to forget the strength the Elf possessed, but when those arms closed around him Éomer sensed their power and he secretly took pleasure in the instinctive knowledge that Haldir could easily overpower him but never would. Éomer let his hands wander over the exposed skin of the Elf's neck, deepening the kiss and finding Haldir fighting him for dominance with his tongue. The Elf's hands found the buckles of the shoulder protection and the cuirass and skilfully opened them, shedding the Man of his armour and letting the parts fall to the ground with an audible chunk.
Haldir let go of his mouth just long enough to pull the chain mail over Éomer's head before he was back kissing him, hands in the blond curls and pulling the Man close. Never had Éomer had a lover who was this passionate in physical contact and so disciplined and arrogant in daily life. It turned him on to know the Elf let go of his controlled façade with him and wanted to touch him. Éomer let his fingers find the fastenings of Haldir's armour, determined to get rid of it as the Elf had done with his.
One part after the other fell to the ground under Éomer's fingers after the Elf had shaken off his cloak. The Man found that Haldir did not wear a chain mail under his armour, only a leathern outer tunic, and worried for a split second if that was enough protection. He did not want his Elf to get hurt. Haldir's mouth wandering over his jaw and down his neck made it difficult to keep his mind focussed, though, and Éomer let out a barely suppressed moan.
“Shhh, mellon, we do not want the whole camp to hear us.” Haldir's voice was low and husky and the Man could feel his breath where the Elf nibbled the sensible skin behind his ear.
“You are right, we cannot do this here.” Éomer said reluctantly. “This is neither the time nor the place.”
The Elf stopped nibbling and sighted regretfully, but did not let go of the Man. “Aye, I know.”
“We did not exactly pick the best time to find each other.” Éomer stated dryly, his hands slowly caressing the Elf's back through the leathern tunic.
Haldir chuckled and the Man felt goosebumps spread all over his skin from the feeling of the warm breath on his neck. “You could say that.”
“Let us find something to eat.” Éomer suggested, reluctantly letting go of Haldir and arranging his slightly rumpled tunic. “Otherwise we will not leave the tent anymore. That would certainly raise suspicions.”
“I can only agree.” the Elf said with a regretful undertone in his voice and took a step back, flattening his own tunic.
“Well, we have to eat anyway. We will need our strength tomorrow and in the next days.” Éomer remarked and held the flap of the tent open for his lover.
***
Éowyn watched Merry with a smile on her face as he ran towards the smithy, swinging his sword in enthusiastic blows.
“You should not encourage him.” she heard the voice of her brother who sat at a fire next to the tent she had been in with Merry.
“You should not doubt him.” Éowyn turned to him, her tone slightly chiding.
“I do not doubt his heart, but the reach of his arm.” he answered and Éowyn hated the sarcasm in his voice.
“Just because he is smaller than you it does not give him any less reason to fight than you.” She tried to stay reasonable and to not let her temper get the better of her. She loved her brother dearly, but sometimes his ready-made opinions enraged her.
“I have to agree with you, Lady Éowyn.” It was but then that she noticed the captain of the Elven archers who sat next to her brother at the fire. “These are wise words.”
“They are no warriors.” her brother continued nonetheless. “They stand no chance in battle.”
“You are too short sighted, Éomer.” Éowyn was surprised how easily and with what familiarity the Elf used her brother's name and how quietly chiding his tone was. “Every weapon makes a difference in battle, and those fighting with their heart are sometimes more effective than those fighting only with their skill.”
“But without skill, there is no fighting, Haldir.” Éomer replied and now Éowyn was truly intrigued. The familiarity was mutual, she realised when her brother easily called the Elf by his name. She had the distinct feeling that this was not the first time they stood on opposite sides in a conversation. “When the fear takes him, and the blood and the streams and the horror of battle take hold, do you think he would stand and fight? He would flee, and he would be right to do so.”
“Nay, Éomer, I think you underestimate the Hobbit.” the Elven captain said quietly. “Do not let yourself be fooled by the exterior. Hobbits are far sturdier and far more courageous that they might appear.”
“And why should Merry be left behind? He has as much cause to go to war as you.” Éowyn came two steps closer to the fire and held her gaze focussed on her brother. “Why should he not fight for those he loves?”
“You know as little of war as that hobbit.” her brother said in a voice that almost sounded defeated. “Battle is cruel, Éowyn. It is ruthless, unjust and arbitrary. There is nothing romantic about it, and even if you survive, it will always haunt you. You should not encourage the hobbit to go through that.”
Éowyn felt a shiver run down her spine. It was the first time she had ever heard her brother talk so honestly about war, and she understood that all the years he had spent in battle had not left him untouched. Her gaze flickered over to the Elf and she saw him regard her brother with an expression that was a mix of understanding, worried and caring. It hit her in that split second that there had to be more between the Elf and her brother than met the eye.
“It is not better to stay behind.” Éowyn said quietly. “You can believe me, it haunts you just as much when your loved ones do not return and you were not there to defend them. Being unable to fight gives you a feeling of helplessness that you can never forget.”
She turned and went back into the tent. She did not feel like any more conversation of this kind, it threatened to take away the calm she needed to carry through her plan. She never doubted for a moment that what she was about to do was the right way and that she would do it, but she knew she needed a calm mind to not let anything happen that could prevent her from riding into battle with her people. Éowyn looked to the entry of the tent into the direction where her brother and the Elven captain sat at the fire. Éomer might be right about the horrors of battle, but she preferred a million times to suffer from something she had done that she knew was right than to be eaten alive by the helplessness that came from not doing anything.
***
Haldir watched the dispute between brother and sister and sensed that Éomer was trying to protect his sister without letting her know. She was a fierce spirit and Haldir instinctively knew she would not appreciate to be protected and that she felt entirely capable of doing so herself. He did not doubt that she could, either, when he had seen her train in the garden behind the Golden Hall in the very early morning hours it had been plain that she was very skilled with the sword.
Éomer did not only want to keep bodily harm from her, however, the damage that battle left even if you came out physically mostly unharmed. Every warrior had seen his share of horror that stuck to his mind and Haldir understood that Éomer wanted to spare his sister the pain. But he could also identify with Éowyn's point, he remembered times when he had been too young to be allowed into battle and he still recalled the overwhelming powerlessness when he stood at the forest border and saw his father leaving for battle. It had nearly killed him not to be allowed to go with him and he had felt such a strong urge to scream out his helplessness. He knew he would always prefer the horrors of battle to staying behind in safety, and so did Lady Éowyn.
Haldir watched the woman retreat to her tent and turned his gaze to her brother. Éomer sat still, looking into the flames, brows furrowed. “Let us go to sleep, mellon. Tomorrow will be a very demanding day and we will need all rest we can get.”
The Man raised his gaze, then nodded. “You are right.”
Haldir watched Éomer get up and followed him into his tent. It had never been a question for them if they would share the tent or not, it was understood between them they would spend the night together, even if only in sleep. Inside, Haldir removed his boot and his outer leathern tunic before he settled on the makeshift bed. He enjoyed the quiet peace that had come over him and the Man, and his heart rejoiced silently when Éomer wordlessly lay down next to him and put his head on Haldir's shoulder. He knew it was a sign of trust that the fierce Man showed him his need for comfort and allowed him to hold him, especially since they had not known each other for very long.
“Are you all right?” Haldir asked in a low voice and let his hand slowly caress the Man's neck under the thick blonde hair.
“I am fine. It overcame me. I do not want Éowyn to glorify battle.” Éomer murmured against his shoulder, but he did not move.
“You can understand her point, can you not?” Haldir pointed out quietly.
“Of course I can.” the Man answered equally gentle, his hand absent-mindedly stroking the skin of Haldir's chest. “I remember the times when I had to stay behind when I was young. I hated it with passion. But I prefer Éowyn staying behind and being furious to dead on the battlefield.”
Haldir gently pressed his lips against Éomer's temple. “She is strong and fierce. You cannot keep her in safety forever. She will escape her cage at one point.”
The Man let out a deep sigh. “I know. But I can try to protect her as long as possible.”
“I saw her train in the garden behind the Golden Hall.” Haldir told him, silently enjoying the trusting closeness of the Man. “She is a very skilled swordsman.”
Haldir felt Éomer chuckle against his shoulder. “She always trains so early in the morning that most people are still asleep and nobody sees her. I trained with her for a long time, but I do not think that our uncle is aware of the depth of her skill.”
“So you do know she is capable to fight in battle.” Haldir asked and regretted for a moment that he could not see his lover's face.
“Aye, I do. But I do not want her to know the horrors of battler.” Éomer's voice was very quiet as if he was lost in unpleasant memories.
“Do you have nightmares?” Haldir was not sure he would receive an answer to such a personal question. Éomer valued his independence and his strength highly, and he would probably see nightmares as a sign of weakness.
For some time, the Man remained silent. Only Haldir's sharp hearing made it possible for him to pick up the very quiet “Sometimes.”
“I have several battles that haunt me.” the Elf admitted gently. This was a time for complete honesty. “The memories always come when I do not expect them.”
“I know what you mean.” Éomer's hand was still caressing Haldir's skin, but the Man seemed unaware of his touch. “There are some things you just can never forget.”
“That is true.” Haldir let his fingers run through the Man's hair in a soothing caress.
“We should go to sleep.” Éomer said after a moment. “We will ride hard in the next days.”
“Sleep well, mellon.” Haldir murmured gently. He could tell the moment that his lover was taken over by sleep and was glad that he needed far less rest than the Man so he could take pleasure in watching Éomer sleep. He seemed so much younger when the strain of the day left his features, his mouth relaxed and a peaceful expression on his face. Haldir let his hand caress the wild blond hair for a long time before he fell asleep himself.
It was before sunrise that Haldir woke up. He was well trained to leave sleep at whatever time necessary and when he did, he found his lover still asleep. The Man had unconsciously cuddled up behind him, one arm possessively around his waist. Haldir enjoyed the feeling of Éomer's warm body pressed against his back and dearly regretted that he had to wake the Man up and disturb their closeness.
He turned in the embrace and gently kissed Éomer on the forehead. “Wake up, mellon. The morning has come.”
The Man stirred, then woke up with the obvious routine of a man used to getting up at very early hours. He opened his eyes and watched Haldir for a moment, then a little smile spread over his face. “Good morning, my friend.”
Haldir could not help to return the smile. “Good morning.”
Éomer stifled a yawn, then started to let go of the Elf. “If we do not get up now, we will not at all.”
Haldir chuckled. “That might happen.”
“It is a pity we cannot do so right now.” Éomer stretched and got out of the makeshift bed, then put on his boots against the cold of the earthen ground.
Haldir regretted the loss of the Man's closeness, but did not let it show. He rose as well and grabbed his boots. “As you have stated yesterday, now is truly not the right time for such pleasure.”
“Indeed.” Éomer started to put on his armour and Haldir watched him out of the corner of the eye. The Man looked very good with his red-brown cuirass, very different from an Elven warrior. Not elegant and emotionless, but wild and strong. Haldir stopped just watching and instead joined Éomer in the centre of the tent to put on his own armour. The practice of years let them finish dressing within a very short time and Haldir started to move towards the entry of the tent to get out and find something for breakfast.
“Wait a moment.” Haldir stopped in his step at Éomer's voice and turned towards the Man who was but a step behind him.
“We will not be able to do this in the next days.” the Rohirrim said quietly, cupping Haldir's face and pulling him close to kiss him slowly and thoroughly. The Elf let himself lean into the touch, enjoying the feeling of the Man's lips on his and his tongue caressing the inside of his mouth. He had not expected the tenderness Éomer showed him on some occasions when he had first approached the Man, but he found himself to like this gentle side of the warrior.
Éomer slowly released him and Haldir reluctantly pulled back. It was truly not the right time for this kind of pleasure, even though he would have liked it to be. They had to concentrate on the task at hand, however, the war for Gondor and Middle Earth were about to begin.
The next days were spend mostly on horseback. They rode hard and only rested long after dark had set in. On the second day, King Theoden decided to ride through the night after the scouts had reported that the White City was under siege. Truthful to Éomer's prediction, Haldir saw little of the Man during the ride to Minas Tirith. There was no privacy when they set camp for the night and during the days Haldir rode with his Elven warriors while Éomer led the Rohirrim Riders that were under his command. They could only speak for some minutes here or there, but the surrounding warriors kept them from any touch.
When they arrived on the planes of the Pelennor Fields that surrounded Minas Tirith, Haldir took a deep breath at the sight of the massive army of evil that had gathered around the White City. It reminded him strongly of Helm's Deep, and he felt a shiver run down his spine. This was going to be a very hard battle, his experience told him. They had to defeat Sauron's army, or the war for Middle Earth was lost.
The Rohirric horns let their sound travel over the planes and announced the help that Gondor was in dire need of. Haldir felt the Merod dance nervously under him, the horse was as much feeling the upcoming war as its rider. Haldir crossed in front of his Elves who were patiently sitting on the horses the Rohirrim had provided for them, listening to Haldir's commands. The thrill of battle started to pulsate in his veins and Haldir could see it in Éomer's eyes as well when they met to form the lead of their troops.
“For Rohan!” King Theoden called and Haldir, Éomer and the other marshals began to ride with him towards the army of Orcs, Uruk-Hai and whatever evil creatures tried to invade Minas Tirith. Behind them they could feel the men following them by the vibration caused by thousands of hoofs on the ground. They took up speed, gaining momentum to crush into the enemy lines, and galloped through the Orcs, riding them down with their sheer mass. Haldir felt the rush of excitement that always filled him in battle and that made his senses sharper, his reactions faster and his concentration perfect. His arrows hit enemy after enemy, then his sword met flesh, cut through throats and limbs.
Haldir lost his sense of time, as he always did in battle, he just lived from one moment to the next, from one killed Orc to the next. He felt light headed when he noticed the retreat of the evil forces, thinking that it had been too easy and too fast a victory. It was then that he saw what the Rohirrim warriors were staring at, the shapes of a row of oliphaunts approaching at full speed, the sound of them still remote but easily audible for sharp Elven ears. He felt a shiver running down his back that was caused as much by terror as by anticipation. Haldir let Merod cross in front of his warriors, screaming commands to reform the line, same as the other commanders did next to him. Then they rode forwards, galloped right towards the massive animals with their deadly tusks and feet.
The first contact with the oliphaunts cost many men, the archers on top of the colossal animals adding to the losses with their well-aimed shots. Haldir let Merod ride on his own accord and fired arrow after arrow at the top of the oliphants, trying to take out the persons guiding the animals to make them headless. Éomer seemed to have had the same idea, Haldir noticed when he saw the Man throwing a spear at a guide, hitting him and letting one oliphaunt run into another. The Elf laughed satisfied, two of those horrible beast less were a good result for one spear.
Haldir continued shooting until he ran out of arrows, then he took up his two swords, cutting through whatever evil came in front of them. It was then that he saw the Hobbit, held by an Uruk-Hai, but fighting him determinedly. Haldir jumped off Merod and ran over to the Hobbit, letting his blades bite through the Uruk-Hai's back. The creature released the Hobbit and he jumped free, looking up to his unexpected helper. Haldir recognised Merry even with his helmet and nodded to him before slaying the next approaching Orc. The Hobbit joined the fight and Haldir noticed approvingly that the halfling was not at all untalented with his small sword. He had been right, Hobbits were sturdy.
Fighting one enemy after the other, Haldir had the feeling there was no end to the evil forces. He had lost sight of the Hobbit at some point, concentrating on killing as many Orcs as possible, when a large Uruk-Hai ran towards him, screaming and swinging his sword. Haldir avoided the blade, ducked, came up again and lashed out at the enemy with his own swords. He hit the creature on its left side, but it was fast. Haldir just felt the blade scratch his left arm and tumbled a bit while trying to get out of the way of the blow when he heard the sound of metal against metal right behind his back, far to close for his liking. A quick gaze out of the corner of the eye showed him that Éomer had blocked a stroke aimed at Haldir's back that probably would have been deadly. There was no time to muse, though, as the Uruk-Hai in front of the Elf attacked again. It took Haldir a few well aimed blows to take him out, but the next was already approaching.
In his back, he heard the Man defending himself and was for a split second surprised at the ease with which the they fell into fighting together. Backs turned to each other, they kept close while attacking the approaching Orcs and covered each other's back. It was the first time they really fought together, but there were no words needed, they just seemed to act in perfect sync. It was a connection Haldir had so far only experienced with his brothers, and he had been fighting together with them for millennia. He had never expected to find it with a Man.
They stayed close, both realising how effective they were together, and continued to fight the army of evil creatures. There was not a second to catch their breath, but Haldir was high on the excitement of battle and felt neither pain nor weariness. He had not the faintest idea how long the battle had been going on at that point, but it was not important. The only things that counted was the feeling of his blade cutting through the evil forces and the knowledge of Éomer in his back.
At one point, when Haldir turned to face the next Orc, none came. He looked around, let his eyes wander over the battlefield and assessed the situation. There were Men and Elves standing, slaying the last Orcs, but the power of the evil forces seemed to be broken. Haldir could make out a greenish glow he identified as the Dead Men of Dunharrow that could only be summoned by the true king of Gondor. He felt himself smile. Aragorn had come to their aid in the right moment.
Haldir relaxed his posture a little bit, standing up straight to his full hight. The swords were still in his hands, ready to come to action in case of an attack. He turned slowly towards the Man behind him whose posture gradually relaxed as well, despite him still being alert. Not long afterwards they were walking the field, looking for survivors and killing the Orcs that were still alive, just as they had done at Helm's Deep. Haldir was relieved to see the Hobbit, Mithrandir, Aragorn, Legolas and even the Dwarf alive and well while they slowly walked the field. A defeated silence had settled over the battlefield, the kind of silence that nearly made you shiver.
When Haldir heard a scream so filled with agony that he hardly recognised Éomer's voice, he spun around just in time to see the Man let go of his sword and his helmet and fall to his knees to cradle somebody in his arms. Pure anguish was written on his face and it took Haldir a moment to realise that the person in his arms was his sister before Éomer let off a second cry that made Haldir's blood freeze. He felt unable to move for a few seconds before he broke his paralysis and started to run towards the Man. Aragorn had already reached him and seemed to talk to him and succeeded to get Éomer to stand up, his sister still cradled in his arms.
“She is alive, Éomer. We need to get her to Minas Tirith.” Aragorn's voice was calm, but firm and urgent. “Now, Éomer. Get a horse and follow me to the healers.”
The Rohirrim nodded, he seemed to have gotten a grip on his emotions, enough at least to do what was necessary. Haldir could see the raw pain in his eyes, though, and wished he could do something to help the Man. All he could do was to summon two horses from another Rohirrim not to far away from them and look the Man straight in the eyes when he offered to hold Éowyn until the Rohirrim had mounted one of the horses. The Man hesitated only a split second, then trusted him with his precious load while he got on the horse.
Haldir looked into the deadly pale face of the Lady of Rohan when he held her light weight in his arms and felt his heart tighten. He had seen the love and deep care the siblings held for each other and knew how much she meant to Éomer. He raised his gaze to find the Man seated and lifted Éowyn into his arms. The Rohirrim nodded slightly to let Haldir know he appreciated his help, little as it was. Then he set off before Haldir could mount the second horse and followed Aragorn who was already in a straight gallop towards the White City. Within seconds, Haldir joined the Rohirrim on the way to the healers.
The journey did not take long, after a short while they entered the city and rode through the streets towards the top. When they stopped their horses next to Aragorn's, a young boy waited for them with orders to lead them to the makeshift bed that Aragorn prepared for the injured Lady in the House of Healing. Éomer set his sister very carefully onto the linen and stepped aside to give Aragorn the space he needed to work. He perched himself onto a little box that stood next to the bed and kept his worried glance focussed on his sister.
Feeling utterly helpless, Haldir just stood behind the Man and watched Aragorn trying his best to cure the Lady of Rohan from the evil that had infected her. He treated her with Athelas, the herb that, when used by the rightful heir to the throne of Gondor, had so immense healing powers that it should help the Lady. Haldir could read pain, worry and fear in Éomer's posture and a look on his face proved him right. His hands were clenched into fists and he seemed to be solely focussed on his sister while his worry was eating him alive. In an attempt to convey support and a measure of comfort, Haldir put his hand on Éomer's shoulder and squeezed slightly. First he thought the Man had not noticed it, but then he felt Éomer's hand slowly closing over his and holding on for dear life.
When Aragorn tended to the Lady's injuries, Gandalf came over to them and caught Haldir's eyes, giving him a very worried glance that told the Elf that more bad news were to come. The wizard stopped next to Éomer and put his hand on the Man's free shoulder. Éomer turned towards the wizard.
“I am very sorry, Éomer. We found your uncle on the battlefield.” Gandalf's voice was gentle but firm, his eyes showing that he understood Éomer's pain very well.
Haldir felt a barely contained tremor go through his lover's body. The Rohirrim closed his eyes and an expression of pain crossed his features and the grip on Haldir's hand tightened considerably. Haldir returned the grasp, then he saw Éomer take a deep breath as if to steady himself and he opened his eyes to look at the wizard.
“What happened?” Éomer's voice was astonishingly firm, but Haldir felt the little shaking of the Man's hand over his.
“He was crushed under Snowmane. Several soldiers told us he was attacked by the Nazgul of the Witch King.” Gandalf nodded towards the Lady who still lay motionless on the sickbed. “It was your sister who defended your uncle. She challenged the Witch King over his life. She killed the Evil Lord with the help of Merry.”
Haldir gasped silently as he realised what that meant. “'No living Man can kill him'. But a woman and a Hobbit are no Men, they were the part of the few ones on that battlefield who could defeat the Evil Lord.”
The expression on Éomer's face was one of pure astonishment, then it changed to pride and he looked down onto his sister, eyes filled with love and concern. “There is more to her than meets the eye.”
“Aye.” Gandalf smiled. “But I am certain you knew that already.”
More hours had past when the Lady finally started to move slightly, when her breathing changed and she slowly opened the eyes. Haldir felt Éomer tense before he bend forward to move into his sister's range of vision. She seemed to be dazed and sleepy, but she focussed first on Aragorn who was bent over her, than she seemed to feel her brother slowly caress her face and gave him a weak smile.
“Do not worry, Éowyn, you are safe. The battle was won.” Haldir heard the slight shaking in Éomer's voice and let his hand reassuringly caress the Man's neck under the thick blonde hair. Lady Éowyn seemed to be soothed by the words and the sound of her brother's voice and closed her eyes again.
“She will get better, Éomer, she just needs much rest.” Aragorn said and sat back, his posture speaking of relief. “She will sleep now and that is the best healing she can have at the moment. She is strong and will overcome her injuries.”
Haldir heard Éomer let out a relieved sigh. “Thank you, Aragorn. Thank you that you saved her.”
Aragorn showed an small smile. “You should thank her. She saved us when she defeated the Witch King.”
“I will.” The Rohirrim's voice sounded sincere. “And then I will tear her off a strip for going into battle without anybody in her back.”
“Oh, she had somebody in her back.” Haldir remarked. “The Hobbit Merry was with her. And I think they fought well, after all they defeated the Witch King who could not be killed by any Man, but by a Hobbit and a woman. Maybe it was their destiny, Éomer.”
The Man was silent for a moment, obviously thinking about what he had just heard. “Aye, maybe it was.”
“Get some rest yourself, Éomer.” Aragorn said insistently. “There is nothing you can do here for your sister now, but to take care of your own wounds.”
“I know.” Haldir watched the Man bend forwards and kiss his sister gently on the forehead. After that Éomer rose, looking at his sister a last time and turned to leave. Haldir followed him closely on the way to find Mithrandir who had taken over the organisation of Minas Tirith as long as nobody else was up to it. The wizard appointed them a room in the mostly unharmed King's House to tend to their wounds and rest and had a servant boy show them the way.
The moment the door closed Haldir felt himself being pressed against the wall by Éomer's whole body, then hungry and desperate lips were on his and kissed him hard and demandingly. This was yet another side of the Man, he realised, the passion born of despair, that he only showed to those he trusted. Haldir felt his body react to the assault on his senses, he actually enjoyed Éomer's rough passion, a trait Elves rarely to never showed. He understood why Éomer reacted like this, the Man wanted to reassure himself of Haldir's well-being, of life in general. He needed a way to let off stem and Haldir happened to be there and to be trusted enough that Éomer dared to let down his guard.
Haldir opened to his lover, leaning into the touch of the hands and letting his fingers loose the fastenings of Éomer's shoulder protection and joining the Man's attempts to free them both from their bloodstained armours. He understood Éomer's urge to feel alive, found himself needing to touch the Man as badly as the Rohirrim needed to touch him. He pulled off his lover's chain mail and threw it carelessly aside before grabbing a handful of Éomer's hair and drawing him into a hard kiss. The Man's hands wandered over his body, tearing bloody fabric and freeing skin wherever they could, his lips always on Haldir's, tongues battling.
There was no gentleness in their touch but raw need. Haldir did not feel the pain from all the little cuts and bruises he had gotten during battle and instinctively knew his lover did not feel his own pain either. There would be a time later to tend to their physical injuries, now it was necessary to take care of their emotional needs. Haldir let out a moan when he felt Éomer bite along his jaw and then down his neck, definitely leaving marks, but Haldir did not care. He pushed his hands under the Man's tunic and removed it to have full access to the skin underneath. He noticed his lover's fingers had found the fastening of his trousers and had begun to open them, one hand teasingly cupping the obvious bulge under the fabric and giving it a slight massage. Haldir felt a deep throaty moan escape his mouth, the Man really knew what he was doing.
“I want you.” Haldir felt a shiver of pleasant anticipation run down his spine when he heard his lover speak those words with a deep, rough voice full of desire. “Will you let me?”
“Aye, meleth.” Not surprised his own voice was equally husky, Haldir arched back into the hand that had slipped into his trousers and cupped his backside. A second hand joined it and Haldir felt himself being lifted off the ground and he immediately slung his legs around his lover's waist, hands on his shoulders and lips seeking Éomer's. The Man carried him over to the bed at the other side of the room, constantly kissing him and massaging his buttocks.
Éomer let him down onto the bad and crawled on top of him, arms to each side of his head. Haldir decided it was time for some initiative of his own and undid the fastening of his lover's trousers and pulled the fabric down so he could settle his hand on the tempting backside underneath. Éomer let out a breathy moan and pushed his groin against Haldir's, proving that the excitement was mutual. Without much care the Man stripped Haldir and himself off their trousers and pushed the garments off the bed.
Haldir opened his legs, inviting his lover to settle in between. Éomer's hand found his erection and wrapped around it in a firm grip that made Haldir groan deep in his throat and his hips buckled. The Elf used his hands on the backside of his lover to press him down on him and indicate what he wanted. Éomer understood without a word, spit in his hand and let it slide down to prepare the Elf. His finger circled the hole, trying it and carefully entering. More spit was added and the fingers explored the interior of the Elf, finding what they were looking for when Haldir gasped aloud and threw his head back in pleasure. Éomer added another finger, obviously taking care to properly stretch his lover despite his own urge.
“Will this be enough?” Éomer's voice was breathy and Haldir moaned when the skilled fingers found that spot again.
“Aye, meleth. Do not worry.” Haldir was proud he was still able to form a coherent sentence. He only wanted to have his lover inside him, the urge so strong he did not really care if he hurt afterwards.
Éomer pulled his fingers back and positioned himself at his lover's entry. For a moment, the Man stilled and his eyes held Haldir's, wordlessly asking if he was ready. Haldir only nodded and pushed against him, making his desire clear. Éomer entered his lover in one long thrust, passionate, but still controlled enough to not hurt. He started thrusting, and when Haldir let out a gasp because Éomer had hit this certain spot, the Man kept the angle and rhythmically slid in and out of his lover. Haldir thrust back against him, arching his back and letting out breathy gasps, his fingers digging into his lover's shoulders.
They did not last long. When Éomer's hand wrapped around his throbbing erection, Haldir could not hold back any longer and felt completion hit him with all force. He heard himself groan his lover's name and clasp down around him and felt Éomer spill his seed inside him. With a hoarse moan the Man broke down over him, covering him with his whole body, breathing as heavily as Haldir himself. The Elf slid his arms around the back of his lover and tried to regain his breath.
After a moment, Éomer rolled off of him to lie beside him on his back and pulled Haldir close until the Elf lay alongside his body and had his head pillowed on the Man's shoulder. His fingers played with the long silvery strands and caressed his face and Haldir leaned into the touch.
“How are you?” the Elf asked gently, letting his fingers draw meaningless patterns through the chest hair that he found so fascinating. For some time, Éomer remained silent, then he let out a shuddering breath. He understood what the Elf had really asked.
“My uncle is dead. My sister lies in the House of Healing and her fate is not yet certain. Many of my men fell in battle.” The Man paused to take another breath. “I feel lost, but at the same time I know I have no time to grieve for I have to lead my people and show the strength they need.”
“You have that strength, meleth.” Haldir believed every word he said. He had not known this Man for long, but he had seen a character full of love for his people, led by passion as well as discipline and strength of mind.
“I am not so sure. I was never meant to rule Rohan. I was not prepared for this duty.” Éomer's voice was very quiet when he admitted his doubts, words he would probably never have said aloud to anybody else, apart for Lady Éowyn maybe.
“You are a natural leader, Éomer. Your Men follow you because they see and trust in your strength. Your people will do the same.”
“But I could not even protect my own sister.” The Man's voice was charged with guilt and self-reproach.
“Gods! She could have died as well, Haldir!” The Elf felt his heart ache at the broken sound of his lover's voice.
“But she did not.” Haldir gave his voice a reassuring sound. “She was meant to be on that battlefield, Éomer. You could not have prevented that.”
“Maybe.” The Man was silent for several minutes, just holding Haldir in his arms and slowly caressing his back.
“Thank you.” Haldir heard his lover murmur into his hair after a while.
“What for?”
“That you were there.” Éomer's voice was quiet and sincere. “You kept me sane when Éowyn lay like dead on that sickbed.”
“You are most welcome, meleth.” Haldir replied and kissed the skin under his lips. Éomer's hold on him tightened a little bit.
“And that you let me do that.” Now his voice sounded like he was embarrassed.
Haldir chuckled, he knew exactly what his lover referred to. “You passion is a rather fascinating trait, meleth.”
“I did not hurt you, did I?” The Man's voice was suddenly coloured with worry and concern. It made Haldir smile.
“No. Do not worry, I am very well able to prevent that from happening.” It was the truth, they both knew Haldir was superior in physical strength and it would be easy for him to stop Éomer at any point. It was his choice not to do so, his kind of giving in to his lover.
“Good.” Éomer sounded relieved. “Still, I will be more considerate next time.”
“I like your raw passion, meleth.” Haldir said quietly, raised his head and gently bit his lover's neck. “And I am not fragile, I can take your roughness and I enjoy it.”
Now it was Éomer who chuckled. “I got myself a naughty Elf, then.”
Haldir could not keep himself from laughing out aloud. It had been a long time since he had laughed like this and he enjoyed it deeply. “So it would seem.”
***
BACK TO INDEX: http://nanuk-dain.livejournal.com/3357.html
***