Faramir Fiction Archive

Tactical Manoeuvres (NC-17)

Written by Foofy

15 November 2004 | 9477 words

Title: Tactical Manoeuvres
Author: Foofy (niceandfluffy@hotmail.com)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Faramir/Éomer/Théodred
Summary: Éomer and Théodred find out whose seduction technique works best when Faramir comes to stay.
WARNINGS: Bondage

**written for Liz's cookie challenge**
Original Challenge: X and Y both like Z, who is oblivious to both people's affections. X and Y make a contest to see who will 'get' Z first. Z finds out in some manner. How Z reacts is up to you.
Bonus challenge: use of bondage is encouraged.

---

Faramir had been in Edoras for little more than a day and he had already caused a remarkable stir within the land. The usual banquet had been laid on as befitting for a visitor from Gondor, but this had seemed to faze the youngest son of Denethor by all the attention. Two hours into the celebrations and Faramir had already disappeared to his chambers from the feast, pleading a headache, leaving Théodred to stare after him thoughtfully.

"Sweet, isn't it?" he commented to his cousin who was sat next to him. Éomer poured himself another glass of wine and glanced up, slightly baffled by Théodred's words.

"What is?"

Théodred brought himself back into the conversation he was engaged with rather than the conversation in his mind, and glanced at the Marshal. "Oh, nothing. Pass some more of that ale, will you?"

Éomer narrowed his eyes, not convinced about the casualness of the tone. "Not until you tell me what you were referring to," he replied, deliberately taking a sip from his own glass, his eyes set on Théodred. Said man shrugged, as though it was of no concern to anyone.

"I was merely considering our guest,"

Éomer's glass was lowered incredulously. "You consider the younger son of Denethor to be sweet?" he chuckled to himself. "The Steward would not be happy to hear you say that,"

"Nor would he. However, it doesn't stop it being any the less true." Théodred stared at the door the young Gondorian had left through and smiled to himself. Éomer noticed, frowning. The glass was lowered to the table once again as the full implications surfaced.

"Oh no. Please, no." he groaned to himself. Théodred looked surprised.

"What?" he protested.

"Leave him alone," instructed his cousin, waving the bottle of ale at him as though this would somehow add more force to his words. However, even the addition of the bottle waving did not change anything. Théodred sighed in a patient manner in response to Éomer's order.

"Éomer, has anyone told you how paranoid you actually are?"

"Constantly," replied Éomer shortly, and leant forward slightly to emphasise his words. "Théodred, leave him alone. He's far too.," Éomer paused, searching for the right word. Théodred watched him politely.

"Sweet?" he offered.

"Innocent," growled Éomer. Théodred's expression was one of sheer amusement.

"Éomer, are you calling me a pervert?" he said finally, a grin already formed on his face.

"No, but I can do so if you prefer," replied Éomer levelly. Théodred snorted and shook his head, pausing only to pick up a slice of bread.

"His brother had no complaint," he pointed out, ripping the bread in two. Crumbs scattered across the surface of the table. However, Éomer was not in the mood to focus upon crumbs, his eyes fixed on his cousin steadily.

"His brother is not him." Éomer shook his head. "Besides which, he might prefer more .. tactful company," he struggled with his words.

Théodred laughed in genuine amusement. "Éomer, the only tact you know has a k and goes on a horse."

However, Éomer was not to be defeated. "He needs more delicate handling than your usual method," he continued, trying to ignore the look that was now gracing his cousin's features.

"And what *is* my usual method?" Théodred was fascinated.

Éomer looked uncomfortable. Théodred's habits and methods were unfortunately well known to him, ever since he had taken a fancy to one of the soldiers under Éomer's command. That had lasted for several months and, apparently, allowed them to experience many different positions.

"I'm well aware how you tackled his brother," he replied stiffly, choosing the easier of the subjects. Théodred made a noise of consideration whilst taking a bite from the bread.

"He was quite a handful," Théodred swallowed the mouthful and grinned towards his cousin. "In more ways than one I have to confess,"

Éomer eyed him. "Is it or is it not true that you threatened him with a riding crop?" he queried, dryly. Théodred gave a splutter of indignation. Éomer was suddenly glad the prince had had time to swallow the bread first.

"That's a wild exaggeration!" he seized hold of the ale jug and poured himself another drink, glancing back at Éomer. "I merely tied him to my bed."

The marshal raised an eyebrow. "And that works does it?" he asked patiently. Théodred sighed, and knocked back the ale, immediately re-filling it. Éomer could see him thinking, and waited tolerantly for the response.

"Not everyone can be as straight-laced as you, Éomer," he said finally and reproachfully. Éomer snorted his belief in that little sentence.

"And not everyone has to be as perverted as you, Théodred," he said pointedly. Théodred grinned lazily at him and settled back in his chair, his drink in his hand. The chair creaked with the shift in weight. After a few moments, Éomer realised that he really didn't like that speculative look that was currently being aimed in his direction.

"So fancy a challenge then?" Théodred queried lightly, proving Éomer's suspicions right but bewildering him slightly by the change of topic.

"Challenge?" Éomer echoed, suspicion laced through his words. Théodred nodded, taking a delicate sip from his glass, his eyes never faltering from the man in front of him.

"My technique or yours. Whoever manages to get Faramir into bed and into a .. shall we shall compromising position, wins." Théodred relaxed even further against his chair and watched Éomer as several shades of red graced his features before the marshal got himself back under control.

"Wins?" he finally asked, his voice lowered dramatically to ensure that others at the table did not hear. He could already see Éowyn giving them a funny look, although this was not unusual in the slightest. Éomer was already certain his sister was a mind-reader. "Wins what?"

Théodred grinned a wolfish grin. "Faramir for one. Or don't you like him?" he added innocently. Éomer's flush increased ten fold.

"Well, I..,"

Théodred nodded smugly and settled back in his chair. "Thought so."

Éomer lowered his voice even more to the extent that the elves might have difficulty hearing. "This is hardly fair on him. Faramir's an important visitor to these parts. What would his father say?" Another thought crossed his mind. "What would your father say, for that matter?"

Théodred yawned, unconcerned. "I'm well aware of Faramir's position in life, Éomer. However, I'm also well aware that this challenge is ultimately for his benefit. He needs a little experience, don't you think?" Innocent eyes turned to Éomer who surveyed him suspiciously.

"You think he's a virgin?" the voice was a mere whisper at the end. True, Faramir always looked innocent. He had a willingness to please that normally surpassed any other man or indeed woman Éomer had known, his eyes huge and somehow pure in these times of shadow and chaos. However, a man who had a brother like Boromir did not seem likely to remain innocent outside of their eighteenth birthday. Possibly earlier.

"From what I hear from his brother, yes," Théodred shrugged as though it did not matter. Éomer's doubt grew again. He had not spent much time with Boromir, but from the tales he had heard about the older man's stamina this was probably a good thing. However, Éomer had a sneaking suspicion that the elder brother did not seem the best person to judge what someone else's emotional state was. The likihood that Boromir would have been speculating about his brother to a third party was also doubtful as well.

"Hmmmm," he allowed himself. Théodred shrugged again.

"Suit yourself. We'll know soon enough," The wolf smile was back. Éomer stared at him.

"And what," he said slowly. "happens if Faramir doesn't want either of us?"

Théodred's smile grew brighter.

"Why, Éomer! We try harder!"

Faramir was mildly surprised when received the invitation to try out some new horses with Éomer, but this certainly was no reason to turn the young man down. A breath of fresh air outside the city of Edoras promised to be much more pleasant than staying inside listening to yet another report or attend another council. He was even more surprised at the point where Éomer suggested that they stopped off at a nearby clearing, which, apparently, had 'beneficial natural features'.

And then the largest surprise, of course, was-

"You brought food?" Faramir stared at Éomer in honest bemusement, blue-green eyes conveying their owner's bafflement as though it had been shouted. Éomer smiled at him, and sat down on the grass, glancing briefly towards the small waterfall that poured into the waiting stream.

"Always best to be prepared," he replied easily, turning his gaze to Faramir who was still standing up. "You never know what you might find,"

Faramir raised an eyebrow.

"For an hour's ride? How efficient of you," he commented, before gracefully bending to sit near him. Faramir watched the waterfall for a few moments, Éomer noticing the way the young ranger's gaze softened now he was away from the confines of the city and back into the wilderness where he had spent much of his life.

"What did you think of the mare?" he queried after a while. Faramir glanced at him as though broken from a trance and gave an apologetic sleepy smile. Faramir gave a lot of apologetic smiles, as though expecting his very presence to offend someone. Éomer felt the brief stirrings of protectiveness.

"She's a good ride," he replied. "Comfortable. Responsive to my every touch .. are you okay? You've gone a little red." The concern in his voice was obvious. Éomer coughed and looked back at the waterfall to attempt to rid his mind of the images that Faramir's words were busy conjuring.

"No," he said hastily. "Nothing." He pulled over the knapsack he had brought, and began to pull out a few items of food. At the production of the wineskin, Faramir's eyebrows shot up yet again.

"You brought wine?" The young ranger was obviously flabbergasted. Éomer smiled in amusement.

"My efficiency obviously knows no bounds," he commented. A smile flickered at the corner of Faramir's mouth, the young man shaking his head slowly in fascination.

"Obviously." He held up his hand as Éomer attempted to pass it to him. "I won't, I'm afraid. I don't drink much,"

"Really?" Éomer looked a little stunned. "Why not? Don't like the taste?"

"I promised my brother that I wouldn't, and therefore I don't," Faramir's tone was regretful in the face of the freshly brought wine-skin. Éomer chuckled to himself.

"Yeah, my sister tried something like that to me," he shrugged and gave a rueful smile. "She hasn't bothered since."

Faramir shrugged lightly, and availed himself of one of the biscuits that Éomer had brought along. "My brother is a little more persistent," he paused, thinking about it. "And has a larger weapon," he added.

"Yeah, so I hear," Éomer replied automatically, then flushed again as Faramir looked at him in puzzlement. "Er.. nothing. You sure I can't tempt you?" The smile aimed at the young ranger was one of fondness, Éomer's voice deliberately low and seductive. There was a flash of puzzlement as Éomer's hand rested a little too long on Faramir's shoulder. The ranger glanced at him, innocence and bewilderment in his eyes. The feeling of protectiveness grew a little more in Éomer. Bugger Théodred and his little challenges.

"I shouldn't," The regretfulness was there again. "But thanks anyway," Faramir added hastily in fear he had offended him. Éomer smiled and patted Faramir's shoulder.

"Do you have to go back to Gondor soon?" he asked once a significant pause had been maintained. Faramir shook his head.

"I have to rejoin one of the scouting parties in a few days time."

Éomer looked surprised. "Doesn't your brother do that?" he queried. A smile flickered across Faramir's face until he managed to control himself.

"Father prefers him close to home. Boromir has more natural talents when it comes to soldiers." Faramir's voice was completely neutral, any dislike for this arrangement carefully hidden, although his eyes flickered towards Éomer. "You can probably take that as you will," he said with a sigh.

Éomer looked even more surprised. "Don't you get on with soldiers?" he queried, although remembering the times he had seen Faramir fighting, his obvious command of his men who seemed absolutely devoted to him. It certainly seemed odd to him.

"I've been with the rangers for so long now I don't really consider it." Faramir shrugged. If he objected to Éomer moving closer to him, he did not say. The ranger's fingers picked at grass blades, the still untouched biscuit in his other hand. "I'm not used to large formations of men constantly. And then, of course, you're expected to.," Éomer watched the faint flush rise to Faramir's cheeks with fascination. ".. well, I won't go into that."

"Go on," urged Éomer, taking the opportunity to move even closer. His hand was so close to Faramir's. The ranger did not seem to mind in the slightest. Faramir glanced at him in assessment of his likely reaction, then lowered his voice even further as though afraid of eavesdroppers.

"Well, it just gets a little .. rough on occasion. 'Friendships' tend to get formed."

"And you don't like rough?" Éomer's eyes were gentle on him, his voice soft. Faramir considered it a little longer, obviously thinking about what to say and what to admit to. There was another gentle sigh, as though from a puff of wind.

"I see enough roughness out in the field to wish to seek it during my spare time," The amazing blue-green gaze was on him again, this time curious to what Éomer would do in response. Éomer resisted the urge to lift his hand to Faramir's face and simply nodded.

"I know what you mean," he murmured, his heart lightning at the sight of Faramir brighten considerably at his words. The smile from the ranger was worth many mines of mithril itself.

"I'm glad someone does," confessed the ranger. "My brother just looks at me as though I'm mad."

Éomer was surprised at this. "I thought you got on well with your brother?"

Faramir laughed lightly. "Oh, we do. I'd do anything for him, and he'd do anything for me. But we're chalk and cheese. He understands what's important to me and will respect it. However, he's not so good at understanding why it's important to me."

"If you ever needed to talk.," Éomer trailed off the murmur, his hand now touching the ranger's hand, his eyes scanning Faramir's. The ranger looked grateful, then suddenly glanced to the side, his posture stiffening.

"What's that?" his eyes were on the bushes, his body already moving to a defensive position. Éomer dragged his eyes away from Faramir's tunic to look towards the direction the ranger was facing, frowning slightly. Faramir glanced back at him, moving to stand.

"You expecting a unit through here?" the ranger asked in a low voice. Éomer shook his head, moving up himself, his hand on the hilt of his sword. Faramir was already ready, his posture ready for battle. The tension was suddenly broken by Faramir's mare raising her head and whickering softly to the approaching horses. Éomer groaned softly to himself.

"Oh, you are kidding me.,"

Faramir also relaxed slightly as the lead horse came into view. "Théodred."

The Prince eyed Faramir's hand on the hilt of his sword, and raised a surprised gaze to Faramir's. "You about to attack us, my lord Faramir?"

Faramir flushed and immediately dropped his hand. "My apologises. You startled us."

"What are you doing here, Théodred?" Éomer's voice was steady and entirely unimpressed. Théodred shifted his gaze to the marshal, and smiled politely. Not a trace of the smugness showed in his grin. It was all too clear in his eyes though.

"There's been a few rumours of orc sightings in these parts. Thought we'd give you an escort." Théodred's voice was pure helpfulness. Éomer eyed him stonily.

"Out of the goodness of your heart, no doubt," he commented dryly. Théodred winked at him slightly.

"Probably."

Faramir, who had glanced between the pair in puzzlement at their words, focused a little harder on Théodred.

"We thank you for your concern, my lord."

Théodred studied him thoughtfully, before nodding and giving Faramir a warm smile. Éomer ground his teeth silently.

"It's no trouble." The prince's eyes found Éomer's again, the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. "Glad to help."

Éomer passed Théodred's horse as they went to their own. "Rumours?" he muttered as he passed.

"Well, there were," Théodred's voice was equally low, his eyes watching Faramir as he mounted the mare he had been riding.

"Yeah." Éomer's look was full of disgust. "And who started them, cousin?"

Théodred glanced back down at him, a look of mock insult crossing his expression. "I don't know what you mean!" His eyes sparkled as he looked back at Faramir. Raising his voice a little, he called out. "My Lord Faramir! Would you do me the honour tonight of trying a few ales I have recently purchased?"

Faramir looked up, surprised and slightly flustered by all the attention. His eyes sought Éomer's briefly before turning to Théodred. "I'm afraid I don't drink much,"

"Boromir insisted," murmured Éomer. Théodred glanced down at him, shrugged and looked back at Faramir.

"Well, you can help taste them can you not? Boromir cannot be that determined, surely?"

There was a look of indecision that crossed Faramir's face before he nodded slowly. "I suppose I could," he replied.

Théodred smiled. "Good lad,"

"Lad?" echoed Faramir incredulously, then managed to cover his amusement skilfully. "Anyway, what time did you have in mind?"

Théodred tapped his finger lightly on the saddle. "After the evening meal? Give you time to recover,"

Faramir looked baffled. "Recover from what, exactly?" he queried. Théodred shrugged carelessly.

"Oh, I'm sure something will crop up, eh, Éomer?"

The marshal ground his teeth again. "Possibly," he growled. Faramir looked between the two men again, a faint frown on his face, then kicked on his mare.

"Well, if we don't want to encounter these orcs.?" he commented softly. Théodred nodded.

"Very wise. Come on Éomer."

Growling to himself, Éomer followed with a look of thunder and a distinct desire to kick Théodred hard.

The something that Théodred had queried failed to crop up. Éomer found himself caught up in the usual city politics as soon as he had set boot on cobblestone, and was unable to speak to Faramir until the evening meal. Théodred had made certain that he himself was sitting directly next to the young ranger and was speaking about the defences at the borders when Éomer finally made his entrance.

He was cheered by the sight of Faramir smiling towards him, before a more neutral expression crossed over the ranger's face as he listened to the prince beside him. An untouched plate of food sat in front of him.

By the Valar, thought Éomer. Does the man ever eat?

He was even more cheered when Théodred turned the talk onto soldiering and units, as he so often did. He smiled into his cup of ale at Faramir's wink towards him. Perhaps all was not lost after all. Théodred caught the smirk and frowned.

"So, Lord Faramir," he turned slightly to face the ranger, who was toying with a bread roll in front of him. "you're still game for tonight?"

Faramir ripped the bread roll in front of him into small pieces, idly watching it. Innocent eyes turned to Théodred.

"Certainly I am," he agreed. Théodred smiled to himself, his eyes flickering to Éomer whilst he picked up a chicken leg.

"That's good. Although you best eat something, ranger. It might be a long night,"

Faramir looked surprised. "You have a great deal of ale to get through?" he queried. Théodred grinned again, a wolf amongst the sheep.

"You could say that," Théodred's eyes fell onto the pile of breadcrumbs that Faramir was making, and frowned. "You are aware that goes in your mouth aren't you?"

Faramir looked apologetic. "I fear I am not yet hungry,"

Théodred smiled and patted the man on the shoulder. "Never fear, I'm sure we can find you something to increase your appetite. In fact," he smiled towards him. "We might as well go now, before the singing starts. If Éomer does not mind."

"Of course not." Éomer was almost ready to start shredding things himself as he watched them get up from the table, Faramir smiling at him again before following Théodred towards his chambers. Growling to himself, the marshal settled down to getting seriously drunk.

The walk to Théodred's chambers was unremarkably short. Faramir glanced back at the prince as they approached the doors to his chambers, the light of the corridor casting shadows across Théodred's face making him take on a more demonic expression. Faramir frowned, his expression more wary. The prince patted his shoulder again.

"Don't worry," he soothed. "No one's going to eat you."

Faramir gave an embarrassed snort of amusement. "Of course not," He hesitated briefly before following Théodred into his chambers. The prince glanced back at him and waved his hand generally towards the chairs.

"Have a seat. I'll get you a glass."

However, the ranger remained standing. Théodred glanced back to notice that Faramir's shocked eyes were fixed on the headboard of the bed, where his restraints were still fastened. The prince cursed his memory and gave a light chuckle to try and smooth things over.

"Decorative, aren't they?" he passed Faramir a glass. Wary eyes stared back at him, although Théodred was pleased to note a little curiosity was now mixed into that. He nodded to the untouched glass in Faramir's hand. "Drink also goes in mouth," he added helpfully.

Faramir's eyes were dragged back to the prince. "Just drink it? I thought you had to take time to consider the body," his voice was absent-minded.

Théodred smiled wolfishly. "Oh, I've considered the body." He grinned. "Trust me on that," Eyes fixed on Faramir, he drank his own drink slowly. After a hesitation, Faramir did the same. The ranger frowned towards his glass.

"I'm not sure I liked that. Too dry," he commented. Théodred nodded and passed him another.

"Try that one." He watched as Faramir took an experimental swig, his next question as mild as a kitten. "So why don't you drink, by the way?"

The embarrassment on Faramir's face was far too clear. "I thought you knew." He sighed. "Boromir doesn't approve of it," he said reluctantly. Théodred nodded thoughtfully.

"It's sweet he looks out for you," he offered. Faramir scowled towards him, the mutinous expression of a twelve year old banned from climbing his favourite tree.

"Sweet but bloody annoying."

Théodred played with the glass in his hand idly. "I bet he's like that with everything eh?" he asked casually. "Drinking. fighting..," his eyes flickered up. ".. partners.," he added softly.

Faramir froze, his eyes as wide as a hunted deer's. Tense blue-green eyes met the casual gaze of Théodred's.

"Partners?" he echoed. Théodred cocked his head to one side, studying the man in front of him.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Don't you do that either?" the wolfish smile played at the corner of his mouth. Faramir was obviously flustered, a light flush already having risen to his face. Théodred felt faintly guilty for bringing it up. But only faintly; the burning desire to bed this innocent was a little too strong for mere guilt to conquer.

"Well.. I.," Faramir obviously didn't know what to say or where to look. Théodred put down his glass and advanced, his eyes fixed on Faramir as though the ranger might just turn tail and bolt from the room.

"It's not a crime to enjoy yourself, Faramir. To enjoy your body," the prince's eyes flickered over the wonder of said body, lean and fit from constant exercise. The Gondorian seemed even more flustered than before, his eyes showing signs of nervousness.

"What?" the ranger tried to make his voice reflect some type of humour, although this failed to turn up. "Now?"

Théodred took the glass from Faramir's unresisting hand and put it down on the nearby table. "Yes. Now." He cocked his head to the side again, studying him. "You want to try?" he purred.

Faramir's eyes were full of misgivings. "I suppose..," he trailed off. Théodred wondered briefly how much of this agreement was to ensure that the ranger didn't insult the prince of Rohan, before that too was overshadowed by the sheer closeness of the ranger's body. He could smell Faramir's scent, could almost feel the trembling.

"Have you ever been with a man before?" the prince breathed. Faramir's eyes flickered to his, then moved on again. Théodred smiled inwardly. So it was true! Untouched. This was going to be an experience for both of them. The prince ran his hand down Faramir's cheek, feeling the slightest of flinches, the wide eyes resting back on him as though pleading with him to be gentle.

"It's okay," Théodred said fondly. "I'll show you what to do,"

"Where?" Faramir's voice was breathless. Théodred smiled at him then took his unresisting hand and moved him towards the bed, sitting down and patting the space beside him.

"Come sit down."

Faramir remained standing, looking down at him doubtfully. "Don't you get undressed first?" he asked hesitantly. Théodred looked at him, then chuckled softly.

"My little impatient ranger!" he shook his head, and stripped his clothes off carefully, dumping them on the floor. Faramir's breath almost stopped entirely at the sight of the naked male in front of him, Théodred's erection showing exactly how he felt about the situation. Wide blue-green eyes raised to meet the prince's. Swallowing, Faramir slowly removed his tunic, placing it down on the pile that Théodred had already started. The prince could see the ranger's eyes flicker to the restraints again, as though fascinated by what they represented.

Faramir looked back down at him, his breeches still tight to his body. Théodred could see his fast breathing, the controlled excitement of the young man, and smiled to himself.

"Can . can you lie down for me, so I can see you?" Faramir's voice was timid, as though expecting Théodred to deny him. Théodred smiled at him, and nodded.

"Anything for my little ranger," he moved himself onto the bed, and watched as Faramir overcame his shyness and move towards the restraints, fingering the silken ropes in wonder. Nervous and embarrassed eyes met the prince's once more.

"Where do they go?"

"Wrists. There's some at the bottom too for ankles, but I don't tend to use them," Théodred found each shocked look from Faramir managed to go straight to his groin. Faramir looked at the restraint, then hesitantly took hold of Théodred's wrist, his eyes on him in a silent plea. Théodred nodded, visions of what he could do to Faramir already rising in his mind as the softness of the silk nestled against the skin of his wrist as Faramir experimented. A bound virgin, waiting for his touch. the prince gave a delicate shiver and focused on the situation. "If you want to try.,"

He trailed off, realising exactly how tightly Faramir had bound him. He stared in surprise at the ranger. Faramir stared steadily back. The shyness, the nervousness and the embarrassment had disappeared entirely. A slow, lazy and undeniably predatory stare looked back at him, the innocent blue-green eyes having turned into something much more sinister whilst Théodred's mind was on other matters. A gag was forced into his mouth before the prince could even speak.

"You know," Faramir ran his tongue over his lips and leaned towards Théodred, his tone conversational. "You really make it easy for me." He winked and stretched lightly, looking back at the bound prince in amusement. "Now, you just stay put for me, there's a good boy. I just need to get someone."

There was an angry muffle from the bed. Théodred struggled to get free, but Faramir's knots were too good. The ranger watched him indifferently for a few moments, before patting the tiring prince on the head.

"I assume that was something rude you just said. And me with my innocent ears," Faramir gave him a sorrowful, innocent look, then laughed and walked towards the door. He glanced back. "See you Théodred. Oh. and make yourself comfy, eh?"

The sounds of cursing followed him from the room.

Éomer was finishing off the last of a bottle of wine when Faramir almost crept into the room towards where the rider sat alone. A rough tunic badly covered the ranger's chest, although Éomer could see almost everything as it flapped open. The look in the man's eyes was one of sheer nervousness, of embarrassment. Éomer cursed Théodred in his mind and moved swiftly towards him.

"Faramir!" he said in a low voice that did not stop the urgency. He looked down at the hasty garment and back up again. "What has happened?"

The ranger glanced towards the others in the room, but they were all busy with their own conversations. A song was being sung in a corner, covering most of their discussions. Only Éowyn seemed to notice their appearance, but she merely contented herself with a long hard look towards the pair. Faramir looked back at him, the embarrassment clear in his gaze.

"Théodred. He .. well, he had a little too much to drink and too little to eat..," Faramir flushed uncomfortably. "and he .. well, he started doing certain things. Could you help me?" An earnest, worried expression turned to him. Éomer resisted the urge to pull the ranger into his arms. Faramir was too upset and certain sisters were watching..

"Okay," he sighed, feeling slightly sick himself. "Where is he?"

Faramir took hold of one of Éomer's hands and led him back swiftly. He glanced back at Éomer worriedly.

"He might not be in the usual mood you see him in," he warned. Éomer nodded impatiently, already thinking of the argument he was going to have with the prince. He knew it would scare Faramir! Théodred's tactics had a lot to be desired.

"Don't worry," he replied grimly. "I've seen him in most circumstances,"

Having pushed open the door he marched into the chambers. His mouth opened automatically to shout something then froze as he took in the bound figure on the bed. The door shut carefully behind him.

"Really?" said Faramir's voice, all trace of nervousness vanished. " Most circumstances you say?"

Éomer turned round to see Faramir pocket the key to the room, the ranger's eyes level on Éomer's in curiosity. Faramir prowled around Éomer as though he was desperate not to stay still, although a casual and most of all amused air still surrounded him, making his way to the bed where he studied the bound prince thoughtfully.

Éomer found his voice. "What's going on?" he asked in a shaky tone. Faramir looked up at him incredulously.

"You mean you don't know?" the amusement was clear. "Would you like me to draw a diagram?"

The marshal took a few steps towards Théodred, who was glaring towards him. He looked in bewilderment at Faramir.

"But you're .,"

"What?" Faramir's grin was that of a predator. "Innocent? Sweet? Inexperienced?" The ranger laughed in genuine amusement that held no trace of nerves whatsoever. "The respect you two have for me is incredible, isn't it?"

"We didn't mean any harm," Éomer watched him carefully. Faramir grinned at him.

"You immediately want to bed every cute innocent creature you see, do you?" An eyebrow was raised. "remind me never to buy you a kitten,"

Éomer stared at him, still trying to place this confident sexual creature with the shy and nervous Faramir Rohan had known before. "You mean all that talk about soldiers and roughness was just made up?"

He was treated to a genuine wide-eyed expression as Faramir stared at him for a few moments then laughed. "You mean you believed me?! Bless!" The ranger chuckled to himself and shook his head. "I was trained by the Ithilien rangers. They spend long times away from the cities and family, miles away from anyone but your mate and your enemy. And trust me, the rangers have better things they want to do at night than play chess," There was a rueful smile.

Another muffled curse came from Théodred but they both ignored him. The Gondorian looked at Éomer thoughtfully.

"I am the son of Denethor and brother to Boromir," Faramir said softly, his eyes curious on Éomer to see how he would react. "How long d'you think sweet and innocent lasts for in that family?"

The man was silent. Relenting slightly, Faramir put his arm around him, pleased that Éomer did not attempt to shrug him off.

"Do you not wish to play with me now you know I might not be as innocent as you imagined?" his voice was soft. Éomer didn't move.

"Does Boromir know about this?" he asked after a few moments pause. Faramir laughed.

"What, you think he banned the alcohol to protect my health?" the ranger paused to think about this. "Or perhaps he did, after a fashion."

"Oh," The voice was small. Éomer could feel Faramir pressing up against him in a manner that he himself would have liked to have done to the ranger whilst they had been at the waterfall, Faramir's breath on his neck, his fingers stroking him gently through the fabric. Blue-green eyes turned up to him in encouragement.

"I'd play you to play, Éomer." Faramir scanned the rider's eyes thoughtfully, his voice sincere. "If you want."

"I don't know anymore. You're not the man I knew," Éomer knew his voice was a little on the harsh side, but couldn't help himself. Faramir moved back a little, allowing the rider to retreat if he wanted. Éomer knew damn well he didn't want to. This did not mean, however, that he was prepared to take rubbish from a Gondorian. Faramir's eyes were wary on him.

"You mean you want some child to stare up at you with shining eyes, thinking how wonderful and brave you are? I'm not that person, Éomer." Faramir leaned forward, planting a kiss on Éomer's neck and feeling the man shiver against him. He smiled to himself. "But if you want, I'll let you take command,"

Éomer felt his resistance leaving as Faramir continued to kiss his neck, his hands playing on Éomer's chest.

"But it was all lies. All an act," Éomer felt that certain things shouldn't be forgotten.

Faramir paused, mid-kiss. "Act, no. Defence, possibly." He began to kiss him again, taking in the scent of the man against him with pleasure. The ranger's hand crept to the rider's breeches. "But let's not talk about it now, eh? Théodred might get impatient."

Éomer's hand slapped down on Faramir's questing hand, stopping it dead. His eyes studied Faramir's.

"I thought I was in charge?" he said softly. Faramir chuckled to himself and withdrew his hand, bowing his head slightly as a mark of respect.

"Of course, my lord. Whatever you wish," The sparkle in his eyes firmly suggested that said wish was likely to be done through Faramir's own interpretation. However Éomer did not care about this. His main focus was simply to get Faramir's clothing in a messy pile on the floor, ripping the badly fitting tunic even more in his haste. Faramir kicked off his breeches which were yanked down by Éomer's frantic hands, pressing back against him as soon as they were clear. Éomer was aware of the burning heat of Faramir's length pressed against him.

"Get on the bed and make Théodred comfortable," Éomer found his voice was breathless. He grabbed hold of Faramir as the ranger made to move, pulling him into a deep kiss before giving him a little shove towards the bed. A slap on the right buttock encouraged the ranger to move faster, although blue-green eyes glanced back at him over his shoulders in doubt of the exact order that had been given.

"Let him loose?" Faramir's voice was cautious, not knowing whether the prince of Rohan was likely to strike out at him. Éomer smiled to himself and shook his head.

"Did I say that? Just see to his needs."

Smirking to himself, he watched as Faramir turned his attention back to the man still tied to the bed. Théodred had been mostly silent, watching them, knowing that whoever won that little exchange was likely to be ordering him about. A faint scowl turned itself to Faramir who casually and gracefully got on the bed, straddling the man's thighs, and took the prince deep into his mouth without warning at all.

"Mmmphfh!!!" Théodred's back arched. The muffled yell filled the room. Faramir took no notice at all, working the man's erection skilfully and with obvious pleasure. Éomer strolled to the bed and carefully took the gag from Théodred's mouth.

"By the Valar!" gasped the young prince, his breath already coming in short fast pants. He groaned again as Faramir took him as deep as he could, then got his fuzzy mind back under control. "I swear I'll make you pay for this, Faramir of Gondor!"

The ranger paused, giving the head of Théodred's cock a lazy lick like a cat with cream, and grinned at the prone body. "I only did to you what you were going to do to me." He protested lightly, then glanced towards Éomer. "Sweet, innocent virgin me," he added in a soft voice, then chuckled in amusement to himself again, pausing to lick Théodred again. The man shuddered underneath him. "You're a big boy, Théodred. Live with it."

"Enough talking," growled Éomer.

"Yes, my lord," Faramir's posture was suddenly more submissive, although the rider could see the amusement in his eyes. A wicked grin was gracing the ranger's features. "I won't, therefore, comment on how he wanted to spread me open and fuck me raw whilst I whimpered into that gag there. Neither will I mention how he wanted to run his tongue over my flesh until I begged him to let me come. None of that shall pass my lips."

Éomer's eyes slid to Théodred who had gone a little silent. Obviously Boromir had been talking more than Théodred had considered.

"Oh, I am still going to make you whimper, Faramir," the prince growled finally. "Just possibly not with passion,"

"Théodred, behave," warned Éomer, and turned in time to see Faramir's smug smile. "Faramir, get on with it." The blue-green gaze flickered to him, then the ranger was back at work. Théodred's ability to form sentences was suddenly extremely hampered.

As Faramir continued, interjected by the occasional groan from Théodred, Éomer took the opportunity to wander around the bed, simply watching. He was aware Faramir was keeping a close eye on him through the strands of copper-gold hair that hung down his face, and deliberately made sure he moved towards the ranger's blind spot behind him. There was the briefest of pauses as Faramir considered his options, then simply continued with what he was doing.

Éomer's eyes were drawn to the picture in front of him; Faramir's smooth flanks were presented to him as the man worked, occasionally bending over further in a silent invitation. The marshal began to grin to himself. Everyone else seemed to be quite happy to listen to their temptations.

Faramir jumped at Éomer's touch on his backside, and began to glance over his shoulder.

"Don't stop, Faramir," warned Éomer. Faramir hesitated again, then obeyed. How grudgingly this was done Éomer wasn't entirely sure, but the order was being done and that was the main thing. It was hardly as though Faramir had no option to stop if he so wished. The marshal's hand absent-mindedly stroked the Gondorian underneath his palm, feeling Faramir tremble against him. With a mischievous smile on his face, Éomer let his hand drift downwards a little until he stroked between Faramir's thighs. The ranger reacted as though he had been burned.

Théodred chuckled breathlessly. "Not so cool as you make out, eh, Farrie?"

The ranger gave him a particular look and growled his opinion on this matter. However, it only took a moment for Faramir to recover enough to begin tormenting the prince under his control once again. Éomer smiled to himself again as he carefully retrieved a bottle of oil from the top of Théodred's chests and carefully anointed his fingers, his breeches having already been unlaced and dumped unceremoniously onto the floor.

Faramir's willpower was obviously on full power but even this was not strong enough to stop the groan in the back of the ranger's throat as Éomer's finger slid inside him. Faramir's actions on Théodred's body suddenly slowed dramatically, his concentration split between two places.

Théodred was more than aware what had happened. He grinned at Éomer over Faramir's shoulder.

"If you going to fuck him, fuck him hard," he advised. Faramir gave him another evil look through eyelashes and deliberately slowed his actions further in retaliation to Théodred's Helpful Hints. Éomer chuckled lightly, slowly sliding another finger into the ranger, watching how Faramir's body surrounded him in welcome.

"Probably not the wisest move to taunt the guy with his teeth round your cock," he remarked. Théodred made a thoughtful noise, unable to say much as Faramir's tongue flickered over him again. After Éomer had added another finger with no protest from the ranger he began to pick up speed. Or at least, Faramir attempted to pick up speed for him, pressing back against the fingers in encouragement and spreading his legs further. There was another amused chuckle.

"Impatient sod," Éomer commented fondly. However, who was he to turn him down?

Faramir arched his back as Éomer lined himself up and pushed slowly into him, feeling Faramir's muscles first resist the invasion then grudgingly allow him access. The speed that he entered suddenly increased as Faramir pushed back with determination, burying Éomer up to the hilt in his body. Éomer raised an eyebrow and tried to recover his nerves. Right. If this was the way Faramir wanted to do it.

The ranger had to keep a firm control over his expression as Éomer slammed back into him. After a few more moments, Faramir found his rhythm with the marshal and his own actions on Théodred, although he was now milking Théodred for all he was worth, teasing completely forgotten. The prince groaned in the back of his throat, partly through the expert skills of Faramir and partly due to the sexual performance in front of him.

Éomer wore an expression of extreme determination as he thrust into the ranger in front of him, his concentration to the extent that Théodred doubted whether Éomer would notice should a group of orcs suddenly charge through the door. The prince himself was unable to hold on any further at Faramir's low feel-it-in-the-bone moan that went directly to his groin, a cry issuing from Théodred as he came down Faramir's throat.

The ranger licked the exhausted prince swiftly, then simply shut his eyes and focused a little more on Éomer behind him. Faramir balanced carefully to allow himself to touch his aching erection, which was not as easy as it first looked. Éomer's thrusts, honed through years of bareback riding, were strong and determined. The bed kept moving with the shifts of weight. No, not easy at all, but by the Valar did it need to be done.

Éomer was suddenly aware of Faramir's intentions.

"Don't touch yourself," he growled. There was a look of mutiny that crossed Faramir's face before, with a sigh, he put his hand back on the bed. Théodred laughed to himself.

"Pity I'm all tied up. Otherwise I might have helped you,"

Faramir opened his eyes briefly to aim yet another evil glare at the prince, then shut it again as Éomer slammed slightly harder into him, knowing exactly what rude message Faramir would be transmitting.

"Bastards," the ranger muttered to himself. Another hard thrust went into him.

"What was that?" Éomer could get used to this sexual command business. Faramir gasped, and shook his head slightly.

"Nothing," he managed.

Théodred was watching in avid enthusiasm. "Doesn't look so experienced now, does he?" he grinned. Éomer managed to obtain enough spare energy to give him a look himself.

"And who, dear cousin, is currently tied to a bed?" he asked pointedly. He didn't hear Théodred's retort as the pleasure increased again inside him, reaching to almost unbearable levels within him. Éomer tried to slow down but Faramir had other ideas; feeling the marshal stiffen against him, he squeezed his muscles and met Éomer's thrusts harder and harder. There was little Éomer could do against such a determined partner except the inevitable. He slammed into Faramir once more before coming hard, his hands tightening on Faramir's body as he came, a groan escaping past clenched teeth.

Sliding out of the ranger, Éomer almost slid to the floor entirely, his legs refusing to carry the weight. He could hear Faramir's heavy breathing, the ranger's head bowed as though in some type of prayer, sweat glistening on his back. Éomer ran his hand over the ranger's back as he moved shakily towards the head of the bed to release Théodred.

Too late Faramir realised Éomer's intentions. His head snapped up, cautious eyes on Théodred, knowing that any escape routes were so very unlikely to work. Théodred slowly rubbed his wrists, smiling at Faramir who was still positioned over the prince's groin, although now his eyes were fixed on the prince as though a startled rabbit spotting a wolf.

"Right," there was an almost evil glimmer to Théodred's eyes. Éomer coughed lightly.

"You touch him without my say-so and you're back in the restraints," he warned. Théodred looked incredulously towards Éomer then hungrily back at Faramir.

"I see," he purred.

Faramir had finally moved to a better spot on the bed, although his expression was still of one who wasn't entirely sure whether his future was as rosy as he would have liked.

"Ganging up on me? That's not fair.," he murmured. Éomer raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Was I supposed to be fair?" he grinned happily. The hungry look still had not disappeared from Théodred's eyes but Éomer was sure his cousin wasn't likely to start being uncontrollable on him. Obviously Faramir was a little more cautious about this optimism by his expression.

"Can I touch him yet?" Théodred asked, a little impatiently. Éomer sighed to himself. Being in command definitely had its disadvantages, not least that it seemed to allow everyone else to regress several years.

"You still after revenge?" Faramir queried towards the prince, sliding off the bed as he spoke. Éomer raised his head at this unauthorised movement.

"You wait there, Faramir."

After a moments indecision, the ranger reluctantly stayed put, groaning to himself softly. Éomer was aware of Théodred leaning closer to him.

"I've got some great toys if he wants to play," he murmured into his cousin's ear. "How about it?"

Faramir's expression managed to get even warier, the prey who had seen the first flashes of the hounds. Éomer shook his head.

"Maybe later," he replied. Théodred sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Can I get to be in charge 'later'?" he queried dryly. Éomer turned his head to look at him steadily.

"Depends whether you find yourself tied to a bed in the meantime," he replied, pleasantly. Théodred eyed him back thoughtfully, then laughed and glanced back at Faramir who had taken the opportunity to edge away from the bed again, although his hand had managed to drift down to stroke himself, trying to get some type of release as soon as possible. Éomer noticed this too.

"Impatient again?" he asked pointedly. Faramir sighed and stopped what he was doing.

"Impatience is a family trait," he replied, dryly. Théodred grinned wider.

"You trying to retreat, Farrie?" the prince queried.

Faramir gave him a disdainful look. "Rangers never retreat. We tactically manoeuvre," he replied. "And you call me Farrie again and you'll have more than the bed to worry about,"

"Feisty," murmured Théodred in approval and gave another sideways look towards Éomer. "Can I touch him now?"

"Are you going to whine that every few seconds?" Éomer sighed. Théodred shrugged idly.

"Probably." Théodred obviously had no regrets in this department. Éomer sighed heavily again and patted his cousin's back.

"So," he queried lightly. "When was the last time you bottomed, Théodred?"

Théodred stared at him with dawning suspicion. Faramir, in contrast, straightened slightly, a cocky grin appearing on his face.

"What?" asked Théodred slowly.

"Was the question too hard for you. Theo?" Faramir had a definitely smug aspect to his voice. Éomer sighed again.

"Faramir, unless you want to find yourself in an awkward position, shush," he said mildly. Faramir shushed obediently, although still couldn't completely rein in the amused look in his eyes. Théodred, meanwhile, was giving Éomer one of the most incredulous looks the marshal had ever seen in his life.

"You can't be serious. I don't bottom," the prince declared.

Éomer looked startled, and glanced towards Faramir as though in confirmation. "Not even Boromir?"

The ranger shrugged lightly. "My brother likes having the opportunity not to have to make all the decisions once in a while," he replied, unruffled by the question. Éomer nodded slowly.

"Oh." Shaking himself mentally, Éomer focused on the task in hand and gave a determined look at Théodred who was definitely in sulk mode. However, sulk was so much more different than distress. "Anyway, it's my decision."

"I don't like your rules," protested Théodred.

"Funny that. Faramir, do you like the rules?"

"Sound fine to me," Faramir grinned. Théodred gave him an evil look, then turned back to Éomer, who, after all, was closer.

"Just because he's happy to do it constantly doesn't mean I am!"

Faramir's back straightened further, a dark expression appearing on the ranger's face. "And what does that mean?" he growled softly. Éomer held his hand up to try and stop the exchange of evil stares.

"Children! Please!"

Faramir gave Théodred one last meaningful glare, then grumbled to himself and relaxed again. Or at least slightly. Now there was a real danger of two sulks for the price of one.

Éomer was about to speak again when Théodred beat him to it. Having slid off the bed, he moved determinedly towards Faramir, whose immediate reaction was mistrust, taking a step backwards. However, at Théodred pulling him closer and Faramir's lips captured in a long kiss, the mistrust ebbed away as quickly as Faramir's groin stepped up the agonies. Théodred's hand drifted over Faramir's aching erection lightly, pleased at the indrawn breath by Faramir.

"Oh Valar yes," murmured the ranger desperately and tried to grind himself against Théodred's warm and slightly sticky body.

"Théodred.?" Éomer's sigh was heard by both of the men but neither of them were in the position to consider stopping. Théodred finally paused long enough to get some more oxygen, and glanced over his shoulder.

"You want me to bottom, don't you? Well, these are the preliminaries."

"Hmmmm," Éomer's expression was not convinced. Théodred grinned, and turned to reface Faramir. The ranger smiled sweetly, and suddenly altered the rules yet again. With the speed of a striking snake, the ranger had pushed Théodred firmly backwards onto the bed, following swiftly and getting the man into the right position with a mixture of luck, speed, skill and strength. Théodred, face down on the bed with a ranger pinning him, was not happy.

"Faramir, you little-!"

"I'm sorry? Were you planning something else?" Faramir's voice was so innocent it suggested that his primary hobby was making daisy chains. Théodred struggled again but the ranger was far too prepared for something like that. The prince stopped bothering after a minute, preferring to save his energy.

"As it happens, yes," he growled in answer through a mouthful of blanket. Faramir moved himself slightly closer to Théodred's ear.

"Tough," he murmured. His eyes flickered back to Éomer, who was watching them in disapproval. Suddenly his expression was apologetic, voice dipping in support of this. "As long as it is what my lord requests?"

Éomer eyed him back, then rolled his eyes and nodded. Faramir smiled again, the wolfish expression returning into his gaze, before moving back and nipping the back of Théodred's neck. His hands were already wandering over Théodred's back, their touch managing to rid the prince of any thought of retaliation. Éomer suddenly realised how careful Faramir was actually taking it.

"Don't worry," he commented. "Just because he says he doesn't does not mean he hasn't,"

"Traitor!" called out Théodred, but his voice was amused. Faramir nodded and stepped up the attack. Éomer moved forwards a little further, watching what Faramir was doing in fascination.

"Hey, since I won the challenge, it's only fair," Éomer replied to Théodred's little protest. There was an immediate snort of disagreement from Théodred swiftly followed by a gasp as sensitive areas were grazed by Faramir's questing hands.

"You didn't win the challenge! I got him into the bedroom," managed Théodred when he was able to speak again.

"Actually, I got you into the bed," murmured Faramir helpfully, taking hold of the oil bottle that Éomer passed to him. There was a noise from Théodred that was probably in disgust, although the touch on his backside managed to turn it into something quite different.

"The challenge was the first person to get Faramir into a compromising position!"

Éomer moved a little closer. "I had my cock up his arse. How compromising did you want?" he pointed out. Faramir nodded in support.

"I have to admit that was somewhat compromising," he added. "A little like this, incidentally..,"

Théodred's moan as a finger was inserted was nothing compared to the groan he gave as Faramir flicked his finger inside him.

"Yes, well, I.," Théodred's whole argument was halted as Faramir quested further. Éomer played with his cousin's hair, watching Faramir explore.

"I won, Théodred. Possibly unfairly, but I won."

"Possibly?!" squeaked Théodred in outrage. Éomer shared a grin with Faramir. "I still say he only got here cause of-"

The Gondorian flickered his fingers again, causing the protest to die completely and for Faramir to focus a little more on his task in hand.

Ah, thought Éomer. If only it was that easy and that quick to shut up Théodred in a council meeting. Now, where were those toys Théodred was talking about?

The Gondorian had left a few days later to meet with his unit, carrying the scroll that King Théoden had carefully worded to go back to Denethor. By this time, their evening together was obviously an open secret. The noise of their union had almost ensured that someone would overhear at some point during the long night, and certainly many different tales were busy working their way round the Great Hall.

Théoden had managed to keep his comments to himself in the face of Faramir's obvious approval of the situation with his son and his nephew. Equally he could not bring himself to chastise such an innocent young man. It was clearly obvious who out of the party was responsible for leading Denethor's youngest child astray, and clearly obvious that steps had to be taken.

Later that day, Théodred was still in a very bad mood.

"I cannot believe we got the blame for that!"

"Sometimes, Théodred, you have no imagination whatsoever. And, considering the amount of toys and games in your room, that makes you extremely special."

"Shut up Éomer and pass me the bucket."

The bucket was passed. A horse whickered softly, and was answered by another. There was a groan from the prince.

"How many more stables do we need to do?"

Éomer paused in his work to consider it. "About twenty."

There was a sigh from Théodred, followed by the statement that had been proclaimed so many times since their punishment had been decided upon that morning.

"I'm going to kill Faramir next time I see him."

Apparently the art of diplomacy might be dead after all.

END

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