One Night In Rohan
Dec. 21st, 2006 09:22 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
cbpotts.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
lotr_sesaFor ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kimberleigh
One Night in Rohan
Pairing: Theodred/Eowyn/Eomer
Rating: R, although a happy R, not a nasty dark R. There is, however, incest. Duh.
Summary: There's good mead in Rohan. Smutty fun ensues.
Disclaimers: These characters were originally written by Tolkien. I've no claim on them whatsoever.
"A good song! A good song!" Theodred's laugh rang out long and loud, echoing against the great hall's rafters. A gold coin flipped through the air, arcing toward the grateful musician, who caught it with a flourish.
"My lord will bankrupt Rohan's treasures ere long, if he keeps up this way," Eowyn teased, an affectionate pat upon her cousin's knee.
"What better way to spend gold?" Theodred grinned. "Wine, women and song! Isn't that what all the tales tell of?"
He looked around to his riders, who all nodded, more half-in their cups than half-out of them.
"We've got wine!" Rohan's golden mead splashed from the hoisted tankard, splattering onto the flagstones below. "We've got song!"
"And we've got women," one of Theodred's riders chimed in, leering at Eowyn. "One real pretty women..."
"You're too drunk to even think such thoughts," Eowyn laughed merrily. "And I'm no where near drunk enough to have them!"
"You're drunker than you think, lass," Theodred cautioned. "You've drunk deeply this evening."
"No more so than you," she retorted, "those I'll admit to less than half of what yonder braggarts have sucked down."
"I'll give ye something to suck down," one so named muttered.
"And who will ye be borrowing it from?" Laughter rang out at her sharp reply, Prodding Eowyn to take it further. "For tis well known you've naught of your own to boast of."
Theodred leaned back in his seat, catching his cousin's eye and giving him a most meaningful look.
"Enough of that, little sister," Eomer said, "or you'll rouse the men's fighting spirit." He patted the sword that sat ever at his side. "And I'm in no mood to fight today."
That was enough to quell most, though a lone comment of "It's not my fighting spirit she's rousing..." did manage to float to the head table.
"I'm fine," Eowyn protested. "A bit of fun..."
Green eyes met o'er the tipsy maid. A look, a nod, sufficient.
"Come, Eowyn, let's leave the lads to their cups." Eomer stood, his grip firm at his sister's elbow. "You've had enough for two shield maidens yourself."
"Now that's a lie," Eowyn protested, turning to her cousin for support. "Theo, tell him that's not true."
"Would that I could, m'dear." Theodred smiled, indulgent. "But you're but toes in the stirrup at this point."
***
"Toes in the stirrup?" Eowyn laughed. "You'll have half the hall believing I'm a drunken slattern."
"They can believe what they like," Theodred said, lifting his lips momentarily from the firm font of flesh recently freed from her bodice, "as long as I can keep doing this." Her breasts crowded together in his hands, spring apples taut.
Eowyn smiled, insistent fingers twining through the long, golden locks of her cousins hair, guiding him back to his pleasure. "You can do that all day, love...but if my brother doesn't stop soon, I'm sure to die."
An answering chuckle echoed from beneath the loose bunches of her skirts. "No one ever died of pleasure."
Breathing quickened. The nubs beneath Theodred's questing tongue grew steadily stiffer. Thin fingers pulled a lover's hair just a fraction of an inch longer.
Yet all the lady of Rohan said was, "I find that most hard to believe."
***
A steady trickle of water will work unstoppably through the most solid block of ice, until it suddenly cleaves and yields all of its secrets.
"Gods!" Thighs trained from birth to sit a horse can do a powerful job to a man's ribs, especially when inspired by the attention of his kinsman behind. "You two are trying to kill me."
"Never, darling." Theodred kissed her gently, the proud forehead, the eyelids closed to receive the benediction. "For you are what unites us."
A turn of the head, a shift of her locks, and Eomer's lips were his for the taking, their chins barely brushing the velvety softness of her shoulder.
"You taste of mead, cousin." Eomer's words were purrs, feline in the candlelight.
"You taste of cousin, cousin." Theodred claimed another kiss. "Most delicious."
***
It wasn't hard to find a rhythm between them. Long hours together on the trail, patrolling the high steppes of Rohan, had taught them what they needed to do. When one pushed, the other yielding. In turn, when the lesser ascended, the greater pulled back -- the exchange quickening as the terrain allowed, slowing when caution was needed.
Groans and whispers were their guide, taking the place of the mountain winds that led them through Rohan's rocky steppe. A sound assenting drove them deeper, a hesitation stayed their progress. Yet from them, silence -- the communication needed by the two no more than the flicker of an eyelid, faster than the passage of a thought.
Between them, Eowyn caught the scent of their love, and drew it deep inside herself. The Wild Hunt was denied to all women, even the Shield Maidens, but Eowyn knew of it. This was it -- the mad pursuit, the reckless abandon, the final, ultimate loss of control. For this, for the communion with the wild, the primal, the raw, she'd give everything -- time and time and time again.
"Now!" she cried, her voice the lightest whip of wind, the strongest goad. "Now, my darlings, now!"
Together, seperated only by the thinnest ribbons of flesh, her kinsmen responded. One pair of hands grasped her hips from behind, the other pair from above, fingers intertwining as if they could, somehow, from the wanting, pull themselves even closer.
***
"Such sweet dreams she must be having." Eomer's finger traced along his sister's cheekbone, gently following the curve toward her mouth. "She's smiling, see?"
"Aye." Theodred looked for a moment, and then fell back into the furs, sprawling in every direction. "I'd envy her those dreams...but not the sour head she'll have in the morning."
"And maybe," Eomer added, shifting over the sleeping form of his sister to snuggle in beside his cousin, "on nights like this, there are better things to do than dream."
kimberleighOne Night in Rohan
Pairing: Theodred/Eowyn/Eomer
Rating: R, although a happy R, not a nasty dark R. There is, however, incest. Duh.
Summary: There's good mead in Rohan. Smutty fun ensues.
Disclaimers: These characters were originally written by Tolkien. I've no claim on them whatsoever.
"A good song! A good song!" Theodred's laugh rang out long and loud, echoing against the great hall's rafters. A gold coin flipped through the air, arcing toward the grateful musician, who caught it with a flourish.
"My lord will bankrupt Rohan's treasures ere long, if he keeps up this way," Eowyn teased, an affectionate pat upon her cousin's knee.
"What better way to spend gold?" Theodred grinned. "Wine, women and song! Isn't that what all the tales tell of?"
He looked around to his riders, who all nodded, more half-in their cups than half-out of them.
"We've got wine!" Rohan's golden mead splashed from the hoisted tankard, splattering onto the flagstones below. "We've got song!"
"And we've got women," one of Theodred's riders chimed in, leering at Eowyn. "One real pretty women..."
"You're too drunk to even think such thoughts," Eowyn laughed merrily. "And I'm no where near drunk enough to have them!"
"You're drunker than you think, lass," Theodred cautioned. "You've drunk deeply this evening."
"No more so than you," she retorted, "those I'll admit to less than half of what yonder braggarts have sucked down."
"I'll give ye something to suck down," one so named muttered.
"And who will ye be borrowing it from?" Laughter rang out at her sharp reply, Prodding Eowyn to take it further. "For tis well known you've naught of your own to boast of."
Theodred leaned back in his seat, catching his cousin's eye and giving him a most meaningful look.
"Enough of that, little sister," Eomer said, "or you'll rouse the men's fighting spirit." He patted the sword that sat ever at his side. "And I'm in no mood to fight today."
That was enough to quell most, though a lone comment of "It's not my fighting spirit she's rousing..." did manage to float to the head table.
"I'm fine," Eowyn protested. "A bit of fun..."
Green eyes met o'er the tipsy maid. A look, a nod, sufficient.
"Come, Eowyn, let's leave the lads to their cups." Eomer stood, his grip firm at his sister's elbow. "You've had enough for two shield maidens yourself."
"Now that's a lie," Eowyn protested, turning to her cousin for support. "Theo, tell him that's not true."
"Would that I could, m'dear." Theodred smiled, indulgent. "But you're but toes in the stirrup at this point."
***
"Toes in the stirrup?" Eowyn laughed. "You'll have half the hall believing I'm a drunken slattern."
"They can believe what they like," Theodred said, lifting his lips momentarily from the firm font of flesh recently freed from her bodice, "as long as I can keep doing this." Her breasts crowded together in his hands, spring apples taut.
Eowyn smiled, insistent fingers twining through the long, golden locks of her cousins hair, guiding him back to his pleasure. "You can do that all day, love...but if my brother doesn't stop soon, I'm sure to die."
An answering chuckle echoed from beneath the loose bunches of her skirts. "No one ever died of pleasure."
Breathing quickened. The nubs beneath Theodred's questing tongue grew steadily stiffer. Thin fingers pulled a lover's hair just a fraction of an inch longer.
Yet all the lady of Rohan said was, "I find that most hard to believe."
***
A steady trickle of water will work unstoppably through the most solid block of ice, until it suddenly cleaves and yields all of its secrets.
"Gods!" Thighs trained from birth to sit a horse can do a powerful job to a man's ribs, especially when inspired by the attention of his kinsman behind. "You two are trying to kill me."
"Never, darling." Theodred kissed her gently, the proud forehead, the eyelids closed to receive the benediction. "For you are what unites us."
A turn of the head, a shift of her locks, and Eomer's lips were his for the taking, their chins barely brushing the velvety softness of her shoulder.
"You taste of mead, cousin." Eomer's words were purrs, feline in the candlelight.
"You taste of cousin, cousin." Theodred claimed another kiss. "Most delicious."
***
It wasn't hard to find a rhythm between them. Long hours together on the trail, patrolling the high steppes of Rohan, had taught them what they needed to do. When one pushed, the other yielding. In turn, when the lesser ascended, the greater pulled back -- the exchange quickening as the terrain allowed, slowing when caution was needed.
Groans and whispers were their guide, taking the place of the mountain winds that led them through Rohan's rocky steppe. A sound assenting drove them deeper, a hesitation stayed their progress. Yet from them, silence -- the communication needed by the two no more than the flicker of an eyelid, faster than the passage of a thought.
Between them, Eowyn caught the scent of their love, and drew it deep inside herself. The Wild Hunt was denied to all women, even the Shield Maidens, but Eowyn knew of it. This was it -- the mad pursuit, the reckless abandon, the final, ultimate loss of control. For this, for the communion with the wild, the primal, the raw, she'd give everything -- time and time and time again.
"Now!" she cried, her voice the lightest whip of wind, the strongest goad. "Now, my darlings, now!"
Together, seperated only by the thinnest ribbons of flesh, her kinsmen responded. One pair of hands grasped her hips from behind, the other pair from above, fingers intertwining as if they could, somehow, from the wanting, pull themselves even closer.
***
"Such sweet dreams she must be having." Eomer's finger traced along his sister's cheekbone, gently following the curve toward her mouth. "She's smiling, see?"
"Aye." Theodred looked for a moment, and then fell back into the furs, sprawling in every direction. "I'd envy her those dreams...but not the sour head she'll have in the morning."
"And maybe," Eomer added, shifting over the sleeping form of his sister to snuggle in beside his cousin, "on nights like this, there are better things to do than dream."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-12-26 04:57 pm (UTC)I especially like the image she imagines as being part of the Wild Hunt.
no subject
Date: 2006-12-26 05:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-28 02:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-04 08:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-05 11:38 pm (UTC)Thank you so much for this, its everything I wanted and more. Your Eowyn is definitely a girl I would love to know and hang out with and get drunk with. She's witty and self confident and terribly sexy.
This part -
"I'll give ye something to suck down," one so named muttered.
"And who will ye be borrowing it from?" Laughter rang out at her sharp reply, Prodding Eowyn to take it further. "For tis well known you've naught of your own to boast of."
makes me laugh every time.
This bit though:
The Wild Hunt was denied to all women, even the Shield Maidens, but Eowyn knew of it. This was it -- the mad pursuit, the reckless abandon, the final, ultimate loss of control. For this, for the communion with the wild, the primal, the raw, she'd give everything -- time and time and time again.
was my favorite. To me it captures everything I love about Rohan.
So thank you, thank you thank you!
<3