Posted: September 2004
Title: Lost in Edoras
Author: LadyHawksShadow
Type: FCS
Fandom: Tolkien
Characters: Theodred/Boromir/Eomer
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: slash, threesome, rimming, incest
Beta: Larian Elensar
Time Line: During Boromir's trip to Rivendell.
Archive: www.geocities.com/ladyhawkslair All others, please ask.
A/N: I know that Tolkien did not mention Boromir getting lost on his way to Rivendell, and I also know that Rivendell is in the opposite direction of Rohan. Thus the title.

Summary: While searching for Rivendell, Boromir becomes...lost.

*~*

Boromir saw the tall wooden gates of Edoras topped by a fluttering green pennant bearing a running horse picked out in gold thread. He locked his frustrated sigh behind his teeth. For a week, he'd been riding, searching for the right route to lead him to the secret haven of Lord Elrond. Twice he'd turned around, certain his road was wrong. Now, after two days of riding through horse country, he discovered himself approaching the strong hold of Gondor's ally.

He traveled up the wide track, noted the burial mounds on either side and shivered. The setting sun cast long shadows between the mounds. He would have to be careful, he thought, as he approached King Theoden. His mission was so vital that speaking of it to any save the council in Gondor was impossible. Still, he thought that he might be able to ask obliquely about the place known as Rivendell and glean information that way.

Boromir stopped at the closed gates and removed his helm so that his gleaming dark blond hair shown in the fading light. He called up to the men standing at the top of the stairs. "I am Boromir, son of Denethor, of Gondor."

The guard peered down at him from the palisade and then withdrew. Moments later, the heavy wooden door creaked open and Boromir was admitted. A guard took his bridle as he passed beneath the portcullis and halted his forward progress. "We have sent word ahead, Lord Boromir, of your arrival. Just follow this road and it will take you to King Theoden's hall." The guard pointed beyond the wall's outer line, indicating a wide, well- worn track running through the center of Edoras.

"Thank you," Boromir said and he clicked his heels against his horse's flanks, setting the animal at a slow walk up the path.

He approached the last slope leading to Meduseld and allowed his eyes to take in the ancient timber structure. The hall was beautiful, not in the way Gondor was beautiful but rather in a roughhewn sort of way. The pillars and doors were gilded, thus the name, Golden Hall. Off to the side was a stable of stone, one of the few stone buildings in Edoras. The horse lords took as good a care for their horses as they did for their own children.

Boromir observed three men standing on the top stair leading up to the Golden Hall. The one in the forefront was tall with dark, wavy hair winging back from his high cheekbones. Just behind him was a swarthy blond with hair as wild as a horse's mane and a fierce scowl decorating his features. Last stood a red-bearded man in the garb of a soldier.

Someone came from the stable and Boromir reigned in his horse before dismounting and turning the beast over to a stable hand. He came up the steps, taking his time, so that he could observe the three men more closely. The dark one had eyes of the most piercing blue and wore about his head a plain circlet. His mouth was wide, though turned down at the moment in a puzzled frown. Theoden's son, thought Boromir. In turn, he realized that the blond must be Eomer, third Marshal of the Mark. A formidable warrior. Both men were exceptionally handsome in a feral way.

"Hail, Boromir, son of Gondor," The dark haired one called as Boromir came to the step just below his. "I am Theodred, son of Theoden. I bid you welcome to my father's hall."

His thoughts confirmed, Boromir, inclined his head. "Thank you for welcoming a weary traveler."

"This is Eomer, son of Eomund, my father's sister's son. Our captain of the guard, Hama stands behind him. If you will pardon my bluntness, Lord Boromir, what business have you in Rohan?"

Boromir did not try to hide his surprise; nay he couldn't have even had he wanted to. "I but pass through your lands on a mission of importance to Gondor."

Theodred and Eomer exchanged brief glances. "There are rumors that Gondor girds for war. Is this true?" Eomer asked, leaning forward a bit in his eagerness.

"Gondor guards the black gates and stands always girded for war," snapped Boromir. His patience grew thin at the cross-examination. "This conversation would be better held inside, perhaps, in your father's presence."

Theodred held out his hand, palm up. His voice dropped lower and his robin's egg-colored eyes shifted from side to side as if to ensure that none could over hear him. "If you have come to bring tidings of war, then I would receive them into my ears before they have the opportunity to be twisted by foul tongues."

Puzzled, Boromir studied Theodred and then turned his gaze on Eomer. The marshal seemed agitated and restless. "Nay, Theodred of Rohan, I do not bring tidings of war or any other news, for that matter. I am traveling to meet with old friends."

Behind Theodred and Eomer, the square-faced captain arched his eyebrows, so that they disappeared beneath his bangs.

Seemingly disappointed, Theodred turned to Hama and gestured with his hand. The guard moved and opened the great doors slowly. "Come, then, Boromir and rest yourself in my father's hall."

As Boromir climbed towards the wide door, Eomer muttered under his breath, "Never forget that three are ears here whose tongues would twist and besmirch any thing you say." Boromir started at the hissed warning, but before he had time to formulate an answer, he found himself standing inside Meduseld. The hall was impressively large, with ornately carved pillars holding up a steeply pitched roof. High windows, long and narrow for defense, lined the walls on either side. In the center, a great fire pit stood with a boar roasting slowly on a spit over the flames. Great tables lined the hall beneath the windows. At the furthest end of the hall sat a feeble old man wrapped in animal skins with a hammered torque about his head. His eyes were filmed white and his mouth sagged. His long nails, yellow and thick, curved into dirty claws about the arms of his wooden throne. Beside him, dressed in rich dark sable robes, was a pale-faced man of middle years. His face was the color of unleavened bread and his dark hair hung greasily down the sides of his face. His mouth was a cruel slash in his face. Only his eyes truly arrested Boromir; they were fever bright and malice filled. Eomer's warning made more sense and Boromir now found himself grateful for it.

He came forward and bowed to the aged man. "Hail, Theoden, King of Rohan. I send greetings from the house of Denethor of Gondor."

"Why has the son of Denethor come to Edoras?" The long nose crinkled at the bridge as the greasy creature beside Theoden roused itself.

Boromir's eyes narrowed to slits at the insult. Behind him, he heard shifting and new that both Eomer and Theodred were angered. Of the old man, he merely trembled and moaned and swayed in his chair. Boromir drew himself up to his fullest height and stared down his nose at the thing sitting beside Theoden, as if it were something on the bottom of his boot. "I am passing through Rohan, my lord, and thought to pay my respects."

"This is not how we treat honored guests, Grima Wormtongue," Theodred spoke at last. "Mind your tongue or I shall banish you from the hall tonight." Theodred smiled as Grima hissed. "I will show you to your room." Theodred touched Boromir lightly on the arm to guide him between tall pillars towards the back of the hall.

Boromir found himself shivering, though from the strange creature's discourtesy, the condition of Theoden, or from Theodred's touch, he could not say. He was led into a room, rather small by Gondorian standards, that held only a bed covered in thick furs and a three legged stool and a small brazier and a pitcher of water on a stand. His saddlebags were laid upon the bed.

"The dinner hour approaches, my lord. I hope you will not allow the tongue of my father's advisor to keep you from enjoying our company."

Startled, Boromir did not immediately reply as he digested that tidbit. He filed it away, hoping that Gondor would never need to call upon Rohan for support, for he feared that the price would be too high if the one called Grima Wormtongue had anything to say about it. "Not at all. I did not know your father was so ill. My condolences."

Eomer smirked slightly as he melted back into the shadow of the corridor. Theodred only smiled thinly. "I will send a servant to fetch you when it is time to dine."

*~*

Boromir propped his hands on the table and stared around the hall. The men were quiet, tense, and restless. The old king had drooled bits of soup and broth during the repast and Grima had escorted him away soon after diner. Boromir shuddered to think of it. Someone in a far corner was singing a song in the tongue of the men of Rohan, a war ballad, judging from the rhythm. Theodred and Eomer had kept him company throughout the meal, but they'd disappeared a bit ago and Boromir did not know where to. Hama, too, was close at hand, but after the strained meal in the hall, Boromir wasn't at all sure he wanted companionship from the morose Rohirrim. A movement in the shadow arrested his attention and he narrowed his eyes in concentration. Theodred and Eomer were facing each other behind a pillar. From where he sat, he thought he saw them exchange a quick kiss. Well, thought Boromir, that certainly explained the strange tension between them. They were not open with their displays of affection, but there remained between them a palpable bond; more than either cousins or brothers. Boromir felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The men were handsome and he felt a pang of jealousy that any advances he might have made would likely be unwelcome. Too bad really, for a night in the arms of a handsome fellow would certainly dispel Meduseld's gloomy atmosphere.

A large pitcher was set on the table before Boromir and he looked up. "Forgive us for taking so long. The brew master is most protective of his progeny." Eomer grinned. "This is some of his finest, drunk only on feast days. We were able to wrangle a bit from him in your honor."

Boromir relaxed after that.

*~*

Boromir stared around muzzily, trying to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. He'd rather quickly discovered why the potent brew was consumed only on feast days and had enjoyed the fine ale to the last drop. Which was why he found himself slung between Eomer and Theodred as they made their way to his room. The shadows in the corridor danced before his eyes, like edgy ghosts. The trio drew up short and Boromir blinked with confusion as he stared at a heavy door.

"Here we are," said Theodred as Eomer kicked open the door with his foot. "Time to put Lord Boromir to bed."

"No."

The door flew open and the trio all but fell inside.

"No?" Eomer grunted as he struggled to balance Boromir's weight and close the door at the same time.

Boromir planted his heels as firmly as possible. "The evening's young," he crowed.

"C'mon, you," Theodred tugged hard and Boromir lost his footing so that, between them, they had to manhandle Denethor's son to the bed.

He lay face down on the soft furs and sighed as he rubbed his face against the warmth. Hands turned him over on to his back and he stared at the carved ceiling while Eomer and Theodred began tugging off his boots. The heavy footwear thunked softly as they landed among the rushes and then Boromir felt hands pulling on the laces of his outer tunic. He smiled lazily as Theodred's face came into view.

"Too bad," he murmured.

"What's too bad, Lord Boromir?" Theodred deftly slipped the laces free and then opened the collar of the under tunic, revealing a fine matt of dark blond curls covering Boromir's upper chest. Without thinking, he ran his hands lightly through the tangle.

"About you and Eomer," the gray-green eyes grew darker.

Eomer stopped with his hands over the laces of Boromir's leggings and stared for a long moment at Theodred. At last he asked. "What about us?"

Boromir smiled wickedly. "I saw the kiss."

Theodred laughed uncomfortably and continued stripping the drunken lord of his clothes. He heard Eomer whistle softly and paused to glance down. Boromir's breeches were unlaced and open, and his cock lay thick and heavy on his hip. Theodred felt an instant fire in his belly and, one look at Eomer, told him his lover felt the same fire.

"Why is that a shame?" Theodred wondered aloud and he slid a hand beneath Boromir's shirt and felt the tight stomach muscles.

"I get to sleep alone," sighed Boromir with a trace of melodrama as the hand stroking his belly moved and warm air touched his cock.

"Do you want to sleep?" Eomer lowered his head slightly so that his breath fanned the stirring member between Boromir's thighs.

"I'm not sleepy."

Theodred gave Eomer the slightest nod and the marshal leaned further down until his thick lips just grazed over Boromir's cock. The organ twitched and Boromir groaned. Theodred lowered himself so that he sat on the bed and pushed the white shirt up Boromir's chest, running the flat of his palms over the ribbed muscles and broad plains of the warrior's torso. When his fingers encountered Boromir's nipples, he paused to tweak them.

Eomer glanced away from Boromir's cock. "You have had a lot to drink."

Boromir raised hiss head and stared at Eomer hovering over his cock. "I'm not that drunk." As if to confirm his statement, Boromir's cock gave another little twitch.

With a chuckle, Eomer bent down again and ran his tongue along the underside, feeling the way the shaft hardened beneath the velvet smooth skin. He could feel the muscles tightening beneath his tongue by the time he reached the head. The ends of his hair trailed over Boromir's thighs and hips and he moved so that he could swirl his tongue around the tiny slit at the top of Boromir's cock.

Leaning down over Boromir, Theodred continued to pinch and twist the stiffened peaks between his fingers even as his mouth sought out Boromir's. He tasted the heady ale as Boromir breathed into him and then a warm, aggressive tongue slipped between his teeth and dueled with his own. Theodred felt Boromir's hands come up and tangle in his dark hair, pulling his head down and pinning him into place as his tongue slid over Theodred's, first one side and then the other. Theodred dug his hands into Boromir's chest. When at last Boromir allowed him to lift his head, he found that his tongue was still trapped in Boromir's mouth and the Gondorian sucked on it just before releasing Theodred.

Eomer squashed his jealousy and simply enjoyed watching Theodred kiss another. He was so beautiful and sensual. And Boromir, too, had his merits. He nipped along the warrior's inner thigh and nuzzled among the fine hairs growing at the base of the rigid cock. He swiped his tongue over Boromir's swelling balls, exhilarated by the exotic flavor. He lifted the heavy cock in his hand and stroked it lazily, almost gently, as he flayed the cherry colored head with his tongue. He paid special attention to the slit and the foreskin, coating it with his saliva.

As Theodred sat up, Boromir caught a handful of tunic and held him still, demonstrating that even tipsy, he did not lose much of his strength. He mumbled something that ended in a low growl as Eomer flicked his tongue over a particularly sensitive area. With a mischievous smile, Theodred undid the laces of his shirt and pulled it open so that his chest was exposed. Instantly, Boromir put his hands inside the soft cotton and ran his hands over Theodred's ribs and down the flat planes of his stomach. The shirt slipped off Theodred's chest and collected around his waist and Boromir wasted no time in indulging his hands as they roamed over the smooth skin and trailed over the fine hair that ran dead center of Theodred's chest and disappeared beneath the waistband of his leggings.

The king's son leaned forward and braced his hands on either side of Boromir's head so that his long hair fell around the Gondorian warrior like a curtain of black silk. Strong hands rubbed Theodred's back as Boromir lifted his head and sucked on one dark nipple into his mouth. He nipped and sucked until Theodred cried out and then he switched to the other side.

Opening his mouth wide, Eomer took Boromir all the way to the back of his throat and then began a combination of swallowing and sucking that had Boromir's thigh muscles bunching. Reaching further down, he took the distended balls and squeezed them gently and heard Boromir grunt, quickly followed by a cry from Theodred. Glancing up again, Eomer saw that Boromir had clamped one of his lover's sensitive nipples between white, even teeth and worried it roughly. He chuckled softly as Theodred squirmed.

Boromir let out his breath in a whoosh as shivers radiated from his groin. He peered around Theodred and caught Eomer's smile. The sight of the blond bent low over his cock thrilled him. He moved Theodred to the side and began pulling at the laces of the Rohirrim's breeches. Theodred, not as intoxicated, slapped Boromir's hands away and unlaced them himself so that his long cock sprang free and spilled readily into the warrior's hand. Boromir stroked it roughly a time or two, milking from it clear droplets of pre-cum. Rising up on one elbow, he touched his tongue to the tip and tasted the younger man for the first time. The salty essence danced over his tongue and he sighed contentedly as he opened his mouth wider to accept all of Theodred.

Eomer rose from his knees and clambered up beside Theodred on the bed. His lover gave him a long slow kiss while he jerked roughly at his laces. Once Eomer's leggings were pushed around his knees, Theodred pushed him down, so that he lay stretched out on his side, with his head resting on Boromir's hip. He lifted himself just enough to take Boromir into his mouth just as Theodred bent down and began licking him.

The cries and sighs of the three men grew louder. The sound of sucking and the hiss of the brazier became background noises. At last, Theodred drew away from the other men and stripped off the rest of his clothes. Eomer lifted his head to watch, admiring the lithe dark beauty that was his lover. Theodred was lean and his skin deeply tanned, even where his tunic and leggings covered his body showed the sun's kiss, for he'd spent many an afternoon during the summer in secret swimming holes with Eomer.

For a moment, Boromir wondered what was to happen next. But, when Theodred started pushing him towards the headboard, he readily complied. With the pillows plumped behind his back and head, Boromir lay back and waited patiently. Theodred straddled him backwards and Boromir growled low in his throat as the saw that the Rohirrim meant to impale himself. He reached down and steadied his cock, placing his thumb along the head so that as Theodred pushed down, his cock smoothly entered the tiny opening. When Theodred was completely impaled, he lay back against Boromir's chest and, with one hand wrapped around the other's neck, began a slow assault on Boromir's lips.

Meanwhile, Eomer crawled up between Boromir's legs and lowered his face again. This time, he touched his tongue to Theodred's opening, sliding it around the ring of muscle and the cock buried within. Theodred and Boromir both made appreciative noises and Eomer worked his tongue in earnest, licking and nibbling and sucking. He pushed his tongue a ways into Theodred and felt Boromir's cock twitch. He inserted a finger, making sure to press down on Boromir's cock as he did so. Boromir grunted and Theodred whimpered. He continued to lick around the hole, stretching it and preparing it until both men began to squirm and wriggle. At last satisfied, Eomer sat up and removed the last of his clothing. Then he snuggled up between Boromir's legs.

Boromir spread his legs wider, thinking that Eomer intended to enter him. He was mildly surprised when, instead, he felt Eomer steadily pushing into Theodred. The dark haired man threw back his head and cried out loudly and his fingers dug furrows into Boromir's forearm, but he did not tell Eomer to stop. Sheathed to the hilt, Eomer positioned Theodred's legs on his shoulders and leaned forward. First, he kissed Theodred. Then he kissed Boromir.

Boromir tasted himself and Theodred and found the combination to be a good one. His cock, pressed within Theodred's heat, twitched against Eomer's cock. He ran his hand over Theodred's chest, soothing the whimpering Rohirrim. Eomer reached down and fondled Theodred's cock.

Theodred muttered unintelligibly and thrashed his head from side to side. His passage throbbed and clenched and rippled. He had never been taken so and his body reacted accordingly. Despite the burning and stretching, however, Theodred rather enjoyed the dual penetration. He felt deliciously full and knew it was only a matter of time before Eomer shifted around within him and found that spot that would send him soaring. Nor was he wrong.

Releasing Theodred's cock, Eomer laced his hands over the edge of the headboard and scooted his knees beneath Boromir's ass. He rocked his hips forward a few times, experimenting with his angle. Boromir groaned loudly as Eomer's cock slid along side his and Theodred gasped. Eomer began pummeling him, pushing harder and deeper with every thrust, so that the man fairly bounced on Boromir's lap. Theodred clutched Eomer's shoulders, leaving behind red marks on the fair skin.

Boromir lay nearly helpless beneath the weight, but he did not mind. Between the tightness of Theodred's passage and the incredible friction of Eomer's cock, he was quite content to ride the waves of pleasure as they washed over him. He moved his hands down and began kneading Theodred's balls with one hand while the other stroked the weeping cock.

Boromir and Eomer panted harshly while Theodred thrashed and moaned. Boromir's cock twitched more rapidly as Eomer continuously slid in and out of Theodred, pulling out nearly to the tip and then slamming back in again. Theodred's passage grew tighter, clenching around both cocks as if they were one. The cock in Boromir's hand poured slickly clear fluid as Theodred began sliding toward his orgasm. Even Boromir could not remain still and his hips jerked and spasmed upward, forcing himself deeper into Theodred.

At last Theodred threw back his head, banging it hard on Boromir's shoulder. His muscles clenched and his hips pressed down and a long cried erupted from his throat even as white hot semen coated Boromir's hand. The clenching around his cock threw Boromir over the edge at last and as his hips cleared the mattress, he, also, cried out his release. Eomer came last, shuddering and crying Theodred's name as his pushed once more into his lover.

They lay like that, a tangle of arms and legs, for a long time after.

*~*

Dawn was newborn as Boromir rode from the gates of Edoras. From speaking with Theodred and Eomer while he saddled his horse, he'd learned that the only elves near Rohan's border were under the spell of the witch of the Golden wood and that he'd gone in the wrong direction. So, he turned his mount once more towards Gondor's borders, knowing now that he must angle for Mirkwood, if his mission was to have any success. Maybe, he mused as he squinted into the rising sun, he could become lost again on his return journey from Rivendell.

*****

THE END

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