Faramir Fiction Archive

Éomer: Memories (NC-17)

Written by J_Flattermann

11 November 2011 | 6966 words

Éomer: Memories
Birthday story for rubyelf
Pairing: Éomer/Théodred/Faramir/Aragorn
Genre: Slash
Rating: PG-15 (for this part; NC-17 over all)
Word count: 1054
Disclaimer: Pure fiction. No copyright infringement intended. All characters belong to their legal copyright holders.
Summary: After the war Éomer mourns for Théodred and Faramir stirs up feelings unintentionally
Beta’ed as usual by the lovely ingrid44.

Part 1

The war of the Ring was over. Sauron had been defeated. How they had managed he couldn’t tell. All he felt was this numbness. He had fought and killed without any real awareness of what was going on around him. Now everyone surrounding him was celebrating the victory while he sat at the table alone, a mug of foaming mead freshly refilled standing untouched.
He looked tired as if he hadn’t slept for days. He feared sleeping. Every time he tried the face of his dead cousin appeared behind his closed eyes. Tears welled up and he looked down so no one would see his misery.

The wound was as fresh as the day he had brought the body of his dead cousin back to Meduseld. His late uncle the previous King of Rohan had been angry with him and he was barred from attending the funeral of his only love. Éomer swallowed hard. He tried to lift the mug but his hands were shaking so badly he gave up the attempt.

Seeing King Elessar riding Brego didn’t help either. At times the shape of the king would transform into a much more familiar image. The image of the horse’s former owner, Théodred. Éomer could feel the trickling of a tear as it wound its way down his cheek. A quick brush with the back of his hand and it was gone.
He was so deep in his thoughts that he did not notice the group of men making their way to his table.

“Please, my Lord, I don’t think it’s a good time.” Fasthelm said, trying to stop the man in front of him. Leonere, Herumer and Garulf rushed to his aid. “Really, Sir, he doesn’t seem to be in the right mood just now; better wait.” However hard the Rohan Captains tried Faramir was not to be stopped. So the four soldiers grabbed him and held him by force.

They immediately created a commotion and even though they failed to attract the attention of the young King of Rohan they did manage to catch the eye and ears of the King of Gondor.

King Elessar walked over to inquire about the ruckus. “Sire, I have to speak to the King of Rohan. It’s a private matter.” Faramir blurted out. Herumer was the next to speak. “King Éomer is not in the mood today, my Lord. He is in mourning. We think he should not be disturbed.” Faramir blushed, suddenly remembering that the former Marshall of Rohan had just lost his uncle. “Oh, I… I…” he stammered and looking down he said. “His uncle was like a father to him, wasn’t he?” King Elessar and the Captains of Rohan nodded simultaneously. King Elessar took Faramir’s arm “You should understand best, my friend, for you have recently lost your own father. Give him some time to grieve. At least for tonight. See what his mood is like tomorrow.” Faramir blushed again. “Yes, I know what it feels like. Father and Boromir, both gone. I am sorry.”

The mention of Boromir’s name hit the King hard. His smile vanished and his eyes grew dull from the sudden rush of emotion as once again the grief of Boromir’s loss hit him. He turned abruptly and left. The men stood staring in awe not understanding what had just occured. The King did not return to his place at the high table but left the hall seeking solitude.

Faramir bit his lips and turned to the Captians. “I didn’t mean to…” he stuttered. The Captains turned about and left him standing alone. Faramir looking down at his boots felt ashamed. “Typical Faramir, head first into deep shit, as usual.” He had to chuckle imagining how his beloved brother would have teased him for this. “A real talent, you have there!” was Boromir’s usual response when he had once again fucked up.

He looked over at Éomer sitting alone at the table and a great sadness came over him. He rushed to catch-up with the Captains and again tried to apologise. “I didn’t think. Um, his loss it’s still fresh. Emotions raw…” “Yep, especially when you lose your loved one.” Leonere said and was punched by his fellows. “What?” Faramir cut in, “What did you say? What do you mean? There was no proof that they were…” Faramir swung a fist at Leonere but Garulf caught his arm. “Listen, our Marshall never kept secrets from us. We all know how he felt about his cousin.” He said.

“His cousin?” Faramir stood flabbergasted, “his cousin! Oh, damn it, I am sorry. I thought you were talking about him and my brother. There were rumours, you know, always rumours. Damn it, I am so sorry. I am such a fool.”

This time King Éomer noticed the furor between his men and the young Steward of Gondor. He got up and walk over. “What’s going on? Fasthelm, what is this all about?” he asked. The Captains bowed low before their king but he waved away their deference. “Captain, report!” he ordered. Fasthelm immediately stood at attention and so did the other Captains. Faramir interupted. “It’s really my fault.” he said. “They were trying to keep me from disturbing your respite. I am sorry, I wanted to talk to you. But I realize this is not the right time. I will come back tomorrow and ask for some of your time then, King Éomer.” “Is this true?” the king inquired of his guard and the men nodded. “Yes, Sire.” Fasthelm finally replied for all.

“So, it must be of some importance then, if you were in such a hurry to speak to me.” Éomer addressed the Steward of Gondor. Faramir again blushed. “Well, it is most definitely to loud in here.” Éomer continued, “This is your home. I assume you know a quiet place where we can talk undisturbed? So, lead on.” He placed his arm around Faramir’s shoulder and the two walked away in the direction of the Steward’s offices.

The Captains stared at each other. “I wonder what’s so important that it can’t wait until tomorrow.” Garulf said and was kicked by his friends.

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