The Sweet, Strange Hereafter

The Sweet, Strange Hereafter

Posted: February 2005
Title: The Sweet, Strange Hereafter
Author: Miranda Bell
Fandom: LotR/Alexander cross-over
Fandom: Tolkien
Type: FCS
Characters: Eomer/Hephaistion
Rating: R
Disclaimer: This story is written for pleasure not profit.
Beta: LadyHawksShadow
Author's Notes: Just because they'd look so pretty together.

Summary: When Hephaistion fell ill he thought he wasn't long for the world, but he didn't plan on waking up in another world altogether - a world containing an entirely edible Eomer.

*****

[Eomer, taking a little commander's downtime away from the eored, is walking over the Eastemnet with Firefoot when he literally stumbles over a prone man in the grass. And not just any man, Eomer notes as he catches his fall, but quite the most fetching man he has ever seen.]

Hephaistion [twitching vaguely]: Ow...

Eomer [to Firefoot]: What business has a lone, unarmed man in the Riddermark? Especially business that requires lying down in the middle of the afternoon.

[Firefoot whinnies and tosses his head.]

Eomer: Oh, good point. I suppose I'd better check. [ leans down to Hephaistion] How fare you, stranger? Are you wounded?

[closer inspection only confirms Eomer's initial impression - that the man's beautiful face beneath his soft beard and tumbling light brown hair uncannily combines feminine gentleness and masculine strength, and the limbs casually sprawled across the soft pasture somehow promise to be both a place of refuge and a place to let desire run rampant. Eomer swallows, and pokes the man's upper arm gently. Damn, hard as a rock.]

Eomer: Stranger?

Hephaistion [stirring and opening his eyes]: Hmmn?

Eomer [jumping a foot backwards]: Helm's cock!

Hephaistion [starting to focus]: What?

Eomer: Stay back, sorcerer!

Hephaistion [propping himself up one on elbow]: Whaaa...? Did you say "sorcerer"?

Eomer: You heard me.

Hephaistion: I'm not sure I follow... [ who is this attractive stranger and why is he being so fierce with me?]

Eomer: Your eyes, ensnarer! No mortal man could have eyes so arrestingly blue and lovely, nay nor mortal woman either. [ placing his hand upon his sword-hilt] I'm warning you, stay back!

[Firefoot wishes he could explain to this ravishing human that Eomer is a bit touchy about the subject of magic, what with an uncle under an evil spell and an Elf-witch and a wizard living nearby, but give him a few moments and he'll calm down, he's quite a sweet man really. Although a bit lonely and in need of a shag.]

Hephaistion: I assure you, sir, I am no... wait a second! [ it has dawned on him he's not lying in his sick bed in Asia Minor anymore but somewhere outdoors in the middle of the-gods-knew-where, and as a reflex action he jumps up into full unarmed battle stance. His muscles ripple, his long hair swirls around his chiselled face and Eomer makes vague squeaking noises.]

Hephaistion [guarded now]: What is this place?

Eomer: What do you mean? Have you not brought yourself hither?

Hephaistion [taking in the lush verdant grass, azure skies and the impossible beauty of the tall burly man with the flashing eyes, sculpted cheekbones and long blond hair even more gorgeous than Alexander's, who might possibly be some kind of warrior demi-god]: I pray you tell me, are these... [ swallows]... are these the Fields of Elysium?

Eomer [confused]: Er, no... these are the Plains of Rohan.

Hephaistion [equally confused]: The Plains of Rohan? I have not heard such a place being named as a land of the afterlife. Is it because I was not in Macedon that I have... gone elsewhere, to the gods of one of the heathen Persian tribes perhaps? [ slowly uncoils and straightens in spite of himself, looking about him] But surely it is still a place for brave and true warriors, for these lands I see before me are surpassingly fair... [ still wary but venturing a shy smile at Eomer]... as is their warden.

Eomer [caught between a scowl and a blush]: You speak riddles and lies, sorcerer.

Hephaistion [heatedly]: I've never told a lie in my life. And I'm *not* a sorcerer, I'm a Macedonian soldier... and... and I'm dead, aren't I? Just tell me, I can take it, I swear. At least I don't feel sick to my bollocks anymore.

Eomer [faintly]: Your bollocks? [ wondering if they are as beautiful as the rest of him]

Hephaistion [impatiently]: Yes. Haven't you ever felt sick to your bollocks before? Look, I'm telling you, I'm pretty sure I was dying. I'd been ill with a fever for days, the healers couldn't do a thing, I was in bed, Alexander was there trying to pretend everything was alright, I fell asleep, and now I'm here...

Eomer: If you would seek to trick me, sorcerer, why attempt it with so little art? Do you wish me to believe you simply wandered here in a fever-dream? You are two days from our borders if you came without a mount... a horse... to bear you, that is... [ really wishes he hadn't said the word "mount"]... who is this Alexander you speak of anyway?

Hephaistion: My lover.

Eomer: Oh...

[Firefoot makes a snorting noise, sounding something like, "well, crap..."]

Hephaistion [sighing]: Yes, my beautiful lover, who shags anything that moves, Persian eunuchs, Bactrian princesses, the odd peasant when he thinks I'm not looking, and all the while swearing he adores only me. Yuh, that Alexander.

Eomer: Still you lie, sorcerer.

Hephaistion [tossing his hair in annoyance, nearly giving Eomer palpitations]: Oh, really, how so?

Eomer [staring intensely]: Because no man who was your lover would ever take another.

[Firefoot whinnies and shakes his mane in the universal equine gesture for "and just like that, we're back in the game!"]

Hephaistion [glances sideways at Eomer then kicks one foot back and forth in the grass]: Oh, you're just saying that.

Eomer: Nay. A man of Rohan's word is his honour.

Hephaistion [nodding slowly]: As is a man of Macedon's.

Eomer: This Macedon you speak of - is that near Harad?

Hephaistion: I don't think so.

Eomer [sheepishly]: I never did pay enough attention in geography lessons. I was always thinking of other things.

Hephaistion [smiling]: Wrestling with your playmates.

Eomer [smiling too]: Ay.

Hephaistion: Battle-training?

Eomer: Ay.

Hephaistion: Conquering the world?

Eomer: Er, actually no, protecting my homeland from evil so my people might live at peace.

Hephaistion: Right. I think I've been hanging around Alexander too long.

Eomer [glowering]: Alexander, your unfaithful lover?

Hephaistion: Look... it's not... it's just... it's complicated, alright. I guess he just needs more than I can give him.

Eomer: I think rather he does not appreciate all you have to give. [ takes a step forward]

Hephaistion [gulps]: You're very tall, man of Rohan.

Eomer: And your eyes are very blue, sorcerer of Macedon.

Hephaistion [softly]: I keep telling you, I'm not a -

Eomer: Shut up.

[He kisses him. And doesn't stop kissing him. Not even when he pulls him down into the grass and their two muscular bodies start to writhe against each other, turning each other over and over upon the turf in a tangle of burnished blond and soft brown hair. But when they finally have to break apart Hephaistion has been stripped of his tunic and he's made some fair inroads into untying the erection-strained lacings of Eomer's leather breeches.]

Hephaistion [huskily]: This must indeed be the afterlife.

Eomer [nuzzling his ear]: Why do you say so?

Hephaistion [seeking out Eomer's lush lips and feasting on them for lingering moments]: Because truly I have never felt anything so heavenly.

Eomer [running his hand down Hephaistion's bare chest and belly and coming to rest on the swelling bulge in his flowing Babylonian trousers]: Well, I can't say you feel particularly dead to me. Quite the opposite, in fact. Warm, vital. I can feel your blood dancing beneath your skin.

Hephaistion [whispering]: You have set a fire in it.

[They kiss madly again until Firefoot makes a noise that sounds uncannily like "ahem". Eomer looks at him and he shakes his mane. Eomer laughs.]

Eomer: Firefoot says I am a mannerless oaf, and he is right. Stranger of Macedon, I am Eomer son of Eomund, and you are welcome in my land. And in my bed too, but you've probably gathered that by now.

Hephaistion [smiling]: Eomer son of Eomund, I am Hephaistion son of Amyntor, and I thank you for your kind words. And your offer, which I intend to take up. I'm not sure I can even wait for a bed.

Eomer: Indeed, you do not have to. [ whistles for Firefoot, who obliges by leaning down so Eomer can reach his saddlebag and withdraw a small phial of oil.] Do you... I mean what do you normally... um...

Hephaistion [biting Eomer's neck]: I want to please you, Eomer son of Eomund... tell me what you want...

Eomer [feeling his cock twitch unbearably and pulling Hephaistion tighter against him]: I think it's only fair that those who flaunt themselves about the place with eyes as tormentingly beautiful as a maid's should be taken like one. At least to start with. After that I'm open to negotiation.

Hephaistion [nibbling on Eomer's earlobe]: Do the women of your homeland line their eyes with kohl, Eomer?

Eomer: Well... only the harlots on a regular basis. But others do for feast-days and the like. It looks very attractive. It... well, makes one think of carnal things...

Hephaistion: In Babylon before I took ill I wore kohl all the time. Would you like to see my eyes like that, Eomer?

Eomer [kissing Hephaistion's eyelids and imagining]: Yes... yes, I would... oh, yes I would...but [groaning]...

Hephaistion: What?

Eomer: Right now all I can think of wanting is to be inside you... so, so much...

Hephaistion [breathless]: Don't wait.

[Eomer doesn't. Well why would you, if you had a hard and willing Hephaistion between your thighs? I mean, I don't really have to describe this, do I? If you like the thought of the pairing enough to bother to read a comedy fic about them, you're there baby...

...you're already seeing all that gorgeous manflesh sliding each over other, you're already hearing the moans between heated kisses, tasting the salt upon their skin. Hell, you can feel it in your own senses as they pant and cry and push each other over the brink of ecstasy once, twice, three times or more, the tentative and experimental giving way to the bold and lustful as they become more and more attuned to each other's bodies and desires, laughter and coaxing and gentle caresses mixing with roars and grunts like animals mating, two beautiful beings reaching out to meet the ache, the need, the demand for communion, deeper and sweeter with each time until they fall at last into each other's arms, exhausted, exhilarated, soaked and steeped in each other's essences, falling asleep murmuring soft soothing words of shared affection...

...so I don't really need to go bother to go there...

'K, moving on then... when Hephaistion wakes it is nearly sunset and Eomer is slumbering gently beside him. He brushes an unruly blond tress back from Eomer's face with a small smile of possession and looks around him. Squeaks out loud to find himself surrounded by a company of silent Rohirrim, hands on swords, cloaks and banners stirring in the light breeze.]

Hephaistion [wonderingly]: So it is true! I have passed over after all, come to join the hallowed bands of the brave departed, in death united under one sole flag. And how fitting its emblem should be a white horse, to honour the noble beasts who carry us so uncomplainingly into all our battles. I salute you, my brothers. [ lays fist to heart, reverently]

Eothain: Um... yuh. Look, we've just come for our commander. We were a little worried when he didn't come back from his walk. But he... er... seems to be fine... [ snickers from some of the company]... unless you're a sorcerer and have put a spell on him, that is.

Hephaistion: For the last time, I am *not* a sorcerer!!

Eomer [sleepily coming to]: Hephaistion... is anything wrong, muffin?

Hephaistion: Um...

[Eomer sits up.]

Eomer: Crap!

Eothain: Sorry to disturb you, Marshal. We were worried.

[Eomer shoots a "why the hell didn't you wake me earlier?" look at Firefoot who looks at him dewily in an "aw, you two looked so cute I didn't have the heart" kind of way and goes back to cropping some grass.]

Eomer: Right then. [ he and Hephaestion hurriedly pull on their trousers and try to look nonchalant] Well... um...

Eothain: Who is this man, Marshal?

Eomer: Well -

Eothain: The white wizard is cunning...

Eomer: Shut it, Eothain, he's not the white wizard.

Rohirrim #1: No, he's far too pretty.

Eothain: Then who is he?

[Eomer looks helplessly at Hephaistion. How to explain his presence? What does he know about him in any case, except that, in the short space of a few hours, he's fallen in love with him? As for Hephaistion, he has no better idea of Eomer, or of what strange land this is he has fallen into. He doesn't even know if he still truly lives and breathes. All he knows is that until he gets yanked back to his own world or moved on to another, he wants to stay by Eomer's side. Surely there's a way they can make that happen.]

Hephaistion [clearing his throat]: Gentleman, I am Hephaistion son of Amyntor. The fame of the bravery of the warriors of Rohan has reached even my far land of Macedon, and it has captured my heart and stirred my spirit. I could do nothing less than as I have done, which is to journey here and offer you my services, such as they are.

Rohirrim #2: Looks like some of them have been accepted already. [ snickers from the back]

Rohirrim #1 [to Rohirrim #2]: Macedon? Is that near Dale?

Rohirrim #2: I thought it was closer to Khand. Damn, we really should have paid more attention in geography lessons.

Eomer: Gentlemen, what say you? Do we chance this man in our company?

Rohirrim #1: Can you fight?

Hephaistion: Like a tiger. I have trained with the best, fought against the warriors of many nations, and lived to tell the tale.

Rohirrim #2: Do you drink?

Hephaistion: Like a fish. The last man standing in any wager.

Eothain [sotto voce]: Do you promise to shag Eomer regularly?

Hephaistion: Well, if you think it will -

Eothain: Because between you and me he's been getting a bit frayed around the edges and he could really use the stress relief.

Hephaistion [nods]: Leave it with me.

Eomer: Well my brothers, what say you? Do we accept Hephaistion son of Amyntor into our ranks? [Loud hurrahs. Eomer turns to Hephaistion with a wide grin.] The ays have it. Hephaistion, you will learn our ways and live, love and fight beside us as our brother-in-arms.

Eothain: Although I'd like to add, if you turn anyone into a toad, we'll have to kill you.

Eomer: Eothain! He's *not* a sorcerer! [ looks at Hephaistion, and pulls him into his embrace] Although I find I am enchanted nonetheless. [ snogs Hephaistion soundly to cheers and wolf-whistles from the eored.] Now make him welcome!

[Hephaistion gets pulled through the crowd being introduced and bear-hugged and head-locked and copping the odd grope etc.]

Rohirrim #1 [shyly]: Has anyone ever told you have eyes prettier than a maiden's?

Hephaistion [blushing]: Oh, once or twice.

Rohirrim #1: I don't suppose you'd -

Hephaistion [looking at Eomer fondly]: To tell you the truth, I'm really more of a one-man kind of guy.

Rohirrim #1 [hastily]: Oh sure, sure, understood... apart from initiations, of course.

Hephaistion: Initiations?

Rohirrim #1: Yeah, initiations. That's different. One in, all in. No "one-man" anything with initiations.

Hephaistion: Well no... no, of course not...

Rohirrim #1 [beaming]: Well, see you at yours tonight then.

[ when Hephaistion has done the rounds Eomer enfolds him in his arms once more]

Eomer: I think my men are going to love you as much as I do. And if you wish to love any of them in return I will not stand in your way. You are free. But I will be true to only you, Hephaistion.

Hephaistion [misting up]: That's the one thing Alexander could never promise me.

Eomer: What a fool. What a damned, blind fool.

Hephaistion: It was his nature. I never asked it of him. I loved him anyway. I still do. I always will.

Eomer: I'm going to make you forget him.

Hephaistion: My love, you can't expect - [Eomer pulls him into a soul-searing kiss that goes on for about five minutes and almost makes him fall over]

Hephaistion [groggily]: Alexander who?

Eomer: That's better. Oh, just quickly, about the "being-true-to-only-you" stuff, listen, with initiations...

Hephaistion: Oh that's OK, I get it... totally different thing...

Eomer [squeezes him tight, with a grin]: My warrior of Macedon, I think you're going to fit in around here just beautifully.

*****

THE END

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