#eomer; threads

[menelvagor]

❛ fear cuts deeper than swords. ❜ / @tcbefearless to Eomer from Lothiriel

♘ ♘ ♘

Éomer looked out over the courtyard that was studded with hundreds of little buds of flowers. Spring was finally arriving. These places in Minas Tirith were nice, peaceful even, especially after the War of the Ring, but it was not home. That was where he most wished to be now, under the sun, with wind whistling through the long grasses, but there was much business to attend to and serious conversations to be had.

"This I know, and only too well," he answered slowly, casting a short glance at her.

Lothíriel he had met there in Minas Tirith after the battle of the Black Gate. Her father he had fought with bravely, the Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth. The new leader of the Rohirrim was being introduced to many new faces, by both his sister and dear friends.

"You have likely met my sister, Éowyn. She was so near death I thought I had lost her also. That fear - that she would come here and fight too, that she was gone - was worse than any injury I have or could have been dealt. I am sure you felt the same with your family."

[ofthevanyar]

{" the weather takes a tumultuous turn, meaning a late night hangout has to turn into a sleepover when a character gets stranded there for the night "}

Behind her, a warm fire crackled as Amarie watched the skies. There was a certain kind of beauty in the violence of it, the uncaring nature of the skies as it pelted the earth below, turning the plains into mud.

This was easy to say when one was sheltered by stone and warmed by fire, rather than out in the aforementioned beauty.

Earlier that morning, the Éored had stopped in a remote village on the outskirts of Rohan. It really was not a village of note, not famed for anything in particular. The Éored had stopped, intending only to stay for a few hours. The horses needed to be watered and resting, supplies needed to be restocked, and Éomer King had business of some sort with the Thane.

The afternoon brought rain showers. The Éored had been disinclined the travel in such weather. After all, surely the storm would pass. It did not. The evening brought a ferocious thunderstorm, turning the plains to mud. The Éored was especially disinclined to travel now.

The Thane, a gracious host, though not in possession of an especially large manor, welcomed the Éored in. Amarie and Eomer, and a few of the higher ranking members of the Éored were shown rooms in the manor, the rest being hosted in various homes of the village.

"Enter," Amarie called, hearing the knock on the door. Éomer had given her the room to prepare for bed, having gone elsewhere to change himself. She smiled over her shoulder at him as he entered, lightning illuminating her features.

In another time, in another life, he would not have left for her to change. Such a thought wouldn't have been considered. But, that was a different time, a different life for Éomer. This was now.

When Amarie had accepted the Thanes invitation (she suspected his invitation had more to do with the novelty of hosting an elf, than any status he assumed she held), she did not realize the manor was so small that it necessitated her and Éomer sharing a room.

"You can take the bed," She told him. She was an elf after all, she could manage without one night of rest.

@menelvagor

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

👽 What's the weirdest idea you've had for a story?

🤓 Nerdiest thing youve done in the name of writing?

🦸‍♀️ Do you have a role model in writing?

🦷 Any world building details you love to include in writing from the original source? Or for original writers--what's a WB detail that has been most fun to work with?

:)

👽 What's the weirdest idea you've had for a story?

...I won't share my weirdest because it's a little...yikes.

(Weird in what way? That is always the question!)

In any case, for Grima I would say I have this story in my head wherein Saruman ends up doing some weird experiments on Grima for Reasons and one them results in his turning into the most fucked up, ravenous creature at night that just devours people around him. He has no control and the thing he turns into is So Ugly.

Anyway, Saruman lets him loose for shits and giggles and Eomer finds out. It goes from there.

🤓 Nerdiest thing youve done in the name of writing?

I've done a lot of things in the name of writing. I learned how to make mead for the sake of my LOTR-Rohan centric fics. I bought early medeival Anglo-Saxon clothes in order to better understand how it feels to move in them.

(Not Grima related but I almost bought a lyra de braccio in order to continue to turn myself into Marsilio Ficino but my bank account managed to convince me not to.)

I tend to drink/eat food that is relevant to what I'm writing. Including making lots of medieval and early modern recipes. I pretend to be the characters and walk around the house talking to myself as if I were them and carrying on full conversations.

&c.

🦸‍♀️ Do you have a role model in writing?

Hilary Mantel. Hands down. (and I think her influence on me is pretty obvious on my writing.)

I would also say Gillian Flynn in that I admire how good she is at telling tight, concise stories. It's something I struggle with and I think she's a master of the craft in that regard.

Back to style, I would say Mary Oliver, Kate Zambreno, Anne Carson, Anne Boyer.

I quite like Justin Torres' more experimental style (e.g., Blackouts)

🦷 Any world building details you love to include in writing from the original source? Or for original writers--what's a WB detail that has been most fun to work with?

For Grima, I like including the canon that he is light fingered and just hoarded everything in a trunk in his room. While I include from the films that he is dark haired, I have been more and more leaning into him having dark eyes as well which is a detail from the book.

More broadly, I like trying to keep to the strong early medieval Anglo-Saxon influence Tolkien used in developing Rohan. Though I do also add quite a few Nordic elements to it. While Rohan might have been based on the kingdom of Mercia, which never fell under the Danelaw, I still think there's enough cause to thread in late antiquity/early medieval Scandinavian elements (such as the seidr).

---

Thank you!!

[ask meme thing]

[thorinsbeard]

I was tagged by @ithilienns

How old were you when you were first introduced to LOTR?

I got the Hobbit for my 10th birthday waaay back in the 1998 or something. I read it when I was bored I think and remember being terrified of Gollum in the cave. In 2001 I saw the Fellowship in the movie theatre with my grandparents. I was obsessed with Legolas (and Boromir) and I remember having to wait a whole year for Part II and my friend saw it before me and all she said to me was "Legolas skateboard.." which I was like ?? about. I had to wait for a whole year to see part 3. I got the movies on VHS, DVD and collected the toys in 2001-2002 when they were out. I've collected a lot of merchandise over the years all because I saw it in 2001.

Favorite LOTR character?

It's hard to say because I love each and every single member of the fellowship but I would have to say Frodo Baggins. I just love him, how determined he was at the beginning and how you slowly see him lose himself because of the ring, because *he* was brave enough to take the ring to Mordor.

Books or movies?

I love both. I love the details in the books, I love the movies as well.

Which location in Middle Earth would you want to visit?

Rivendell (which I have visited in Lord of the Rings online). It is soooo pretty and I would love to chill with the elves and annoy Erestor, and hang out with Elrond and ask him about things. Also every time I visit it in the Lotro game, I feel like all the hurt and anguish and tiredness of questing has washed away, and I'm lucky 2 of my characters can teleport there whenever they want.

Favorite movie?

I can't possibly pick but I am actually going to say Fellowship of the Ring because this is the movie where I fell in love with the series (despite teenage me not wanting to go because it looked "scary" lol)

Favorite scene?

Hmm from the movies it's probably a lot of the fight scenes. I love when the riders of Rohan show up in a moment of despair, I love Sam's speech about stories in the two towers. There is just too many good scenes in the movies. it's been awhile since I reread the books but I am gonna reread them soon!

Favorite quote?

"How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart you begin to understand... there is no going back? There are some things that time cannot mend. Some hurts that go too deep, that have taken hold. " I just love this quote of Frodo's as someone who has suffered from mental illness and loss of friends due to it, knowing that sometimes you can't go back. It's just so heartbreaking. I could go on all day about Frodo ... *resists*

What Middle Earth race would you want to be?

A Hobbit! I want to eat and sleep and rest and adventure in the Shire.

Favorite LOTR ship?

I love Elrond x Celebrian, I love Faramir x Eowyn (I almost wrote Faramir x Aragorn and had a moment of hmm that could be interesting actually lol) I love Galadriel x Celeborn but (even though it is not canon) my favourite ship (both platonic and/or romantic) is Frodo x Sam. They work so well no matter which way you write them or see them and I just love them to pieces.

I'm going to tag.. @eomer @rosettyller @normaleeinsane and @aimless-passerby and actually everyone in this fandom. I want to read your responses.

[eadrg]

𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁 , : —           sent by :  @minastiriiths​

                                                                            HE MOURNS THE     loss   of   the   last   of   his   family  ,    leaves   her   in   a   stone   city   far   from   their   green   fields  ,    laments   the   very   thought   of   it  .     and   he  ,     the   last   of   the   line   of   éorl   to   sit   in   medusheld’s   halls  .      HOW CAN HE BE HAPPY WITH THIS ?     and   yet  ,     she   smiles   the   like   he   has   never   seen   in   those   halls   of   home  ,     and   even   the   king   cannot   fault   the   man   she   has   chosen  .     he   gives   her   away   willingly  ,    if   not   happily  ,      the   latest   of   his   family   to   leave   his   side  ,    with   a   crown   he   never   wanted   to   be   forced   upon   his   brow  .      this   is   the   hope   he   wishes   for   her  ,     not   destined   to   be   bound   to   he   as   he   withers   back   in   his   home   under   the   weight   . 

                                                                            ❝  she’d   kill   you   if   you   hurt   her  ,     but   if   she   did   not   any   one   of   my   men   might   take   a   trip   her  ,    and   be   pardoned  in   my   halls   for   their   actions  .    now  ,      a   toast  .  ❞

[at-kuipher]

short  and  sweet.         @silentwound.

gentle  touch  upon  other’s  temple,     hoping  to  softly  nudge  them  to  wake.    “   my  love.     the  sun  rises.     as  much  as  i  wish  to  stay  beside  you,    i  must  take  my  leave.   ”

[lesbiansforboromir]

I am once again thinking about how Boromir was nearly universally loved and accepted in Rohan. I’m thinking about Eomer’s shock at news of his death, I’m thinking about how Theoden grieved him, I’m thinking about Boromir vehemently defending the Rohir at the Council of Elrond. I’m thinking about how Boromir did not just blankly accept Rohan’s allyship, I’m thinking about how he included them in his mind as ALSO his people, that he was able to shift his manners to suit both Rohan and Gondorian society seamlessly. I’m thinking about!! Boromir’s heart!!!

At this point I’m almost entirely certain that the Rohirrim were meant to stand in as the ‘warrior race’ to Gondor’s ‘’’enlightened civilisation’’’ and therefore allying Boromir so clearly to the Rohirrim and then comparing that to Faramir’s ‘Yet now, if the Rohirrim are grown in some ways more like to us, enhanced in arts and gentleness, we too have become more like to them, and can scarce claim any longer the title High. We are become Middle Men, of the Twilight, but with memory of other things’ was likely him just trying to reinforce Boromir as the personification of Gondor’s ‘’’decline’’’ but I’m very sorry Tolkien you just didn’t thread this needle and now Boromir’s a gregarious, all accepting and multi-cultural man who sees no difference between the lives of ‘middle men’ and ‘high men’ and counts them all amongst his people.

[erosofthepen]

Hi hun! So, on my other blog, I'm sure you saw me rambling about my idea for the Character x Seamstress S/O fanfics. I wanted to get your opinion on something when you find the time.

You know how you always used to write those "Which Lotr Character would most enjoy a cottagecore s/o" requests for me? Could you please do one of those with a Seamstress s/o? Like which Lotr and The Hobbit Characters would most appreciate a seamstress girlfriend? Thank you kindly, and I hope you're doing well hun!!

Here you are love! I hope you enjoy. I have your other ask, and i promise i'm getting to it, but I might have to do it during the weekend since it's the last two days of classes and everything's being a bit rushed.

Lotr:

Eomer:

Eomer would be head over heels for a cute seamstress s/o! You can bet that he would start commissioning clothing he doesn't need, or intentionally tearing tunic or trousers just so that he could stop by and visit them. I feel like he's the type of person who would start brining little things like treats or flowers whenever he comes visiting. When he's made King of Rohan, he wears some traditional armor that has been passed down through generations, but also commissions the rest of his garb to be made by his s/o, likely with a love confession to follow.

Faramir:

Faramir would 100% appreciate a seamstress s/o, especially since he knows a thing or two about sewing himself. I can totally see him allowing his s/o to see his late-mother's wardrobe, so that she could study the different patterns and fashions of Gondor nobility, and Faramir would totally gift her her favorite of the dresses and robes. This is going out on a limb here, but since Faramir mentioned in lotr that his clothes as a boy never fit him, i can see that continuing on to his adulthood. Like perhaps his tunic is always just a bit too tight, or something of the sort. When the seamstress takes his measurements and creates clothing that finally fits, he could have married her on the spot.

Aragorn:

Dirty rugged ranger man would very much love a seamstress s/o. He knows how to sew himself, but without much neatness or grace, and being the ranger that he is, is always having to fix tears and holes in his clothes. When his seamstress s/o comes along, he's ever so thankful that she really knows her stuff, and can make the holes and such almost look like they were never there in the first place. He also starts relying on her to help him with court fashion and 'the noble look' after he becomes king, because she knows whats hot and what's not.

The Hobbit:

Bard:

Bard would love her character, first and foremost, but, he also very much loves her for how helpful she is. With three children, clothing is always getting torn up, and new clothes are needed every few months or so, especially when his kids go through growth-spurts. All of his children would love her, especially little Tilda, since his s/o starts making little dresses and coats for her dolls from scrap fabrics. But also, have you seen the state of that man's coat? Yeah, his seamstress s/o wouldn't stand for that. She'll either refurbish it so that it looks good as new, or she'll create a whole other new coat for him, that'll keep him even warmer out in the winter. He loves her with all his heart, and never fails to bring home new and beautiful threads from the markets for her work.

Fili:

My main dwarf Fili. Okay, so he would absolutely adore his seamstress s/o, and being the crown prince of the richest kingdom in middle earth, would 100% order and bring in nothing but the finest fabrics, silks, and furs for her work. She'd learn a whole lot about dwarven fashion and clothing while there, especially how golden thread can be spun into cloth, and how jewels and precious gems are often threaded onto robes. I feel like their first meeting would be her taking his measurements for a commission Thorin asked her to do, and while she's getting a bit blushy at taking the inseam measurements, Fili starts being Fili and makes a few suggestive, but not offensive jokes. It be so cute to see them interacting.

Bilbo:

This hobbit would be head over heels, because, FINALLY, someone he can talk to about sewing and embroidering clothing. Hobbits have lots of wonderful colors and patterns in their outfits, and I feel like a seamstress would really appreciate all the different styles hobbits have. She would also appreciate the depth at which Bilbo is able to talk about them. He loves commissioning clothing from her, because "There's no one in Hobbiton who comes even remotely close to your skill and dedication. I hardly think I could trust someone else with making my clothes now." It's all very sweet.

[btcher]

my tired brain listing to the lotr soundtrack looking at the icon i’m using in a thread thinking i’m writing eomer for the slightest second .

[roselightfairy]

Legolas/Gimli Fic Recs: Unfinished

All right. In honor of the end of this year’s @goodintentionswipfest, my next Legolas/Gimli fic rec list will be unfinished fics that I read and loved. I’ve decided not to include currently ongoing fics in this (my definition here for this is fics that have been updated in the last year, because I needed some kind of cutoff), so you can largely be pretty sure what you get is what you will get. I know not everyone out there is like me and wants to take a chance on unfinished WIPs, but if you do, these ones will break your heart in the most delicious of ways!

 Land of Light and Shadows by Thundera Tiger

Eomer, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli journey south into Harad. Politics, abductions, assassinations, battles...life as usual. Chapter 38: The race to Haradhur begins! But not without a few false starts...

…

Ahh, this story haunts my dreams; I think about it more than most stories out there. A post-canon adventure, this story follows Aragorn, Eomer, Legolas, and Gimli into a breathtaking adventure of political intrigue, hurt/comfort, worldbuilding, and suspense. This author writes some of the best LOTR characterization I have ever read, and getting to explore it in an extremely long fic is such a privilege. The relationship between Legolas and Gimli (always my priority!) really shines in this story, and even though the author doesn’t write them explicitly romantically, the Committed Life Partner feelings are STRONG in this one. The hurt/comfort is impeccable, and the plot is masterfully crafted, with threads and threads and threads of intrigue and action all woven together. It is incredible how well this author stays on top of everything and ensures that no character or plot thread is left behind. I can’t promise that you’ll be satisfied with the resolution of it - it’s not one of those WIPs where the plot is mostly resolved, and it does end on a cliffhanger - but if you’re anything like me, you will thank it for ripping your heart out.

Unravelling the Tale by Nimue

Legolas and Gimli... a friendship of this strength was not easily forged. The Ring will take Boromir, but what trials do the others face being near such evil? A Legolas and Gimli story, & Gollum too. New Chapter!

…

I loooooove this story so much. It’s one of those wonderful Fellowship-era fics that is basically an in-depth character-focused explication of some of those pieces of the pre-broken Fellowship journey that Tolkien glosses over (mmm, one of my favorite genres out there…). This one focuses on the journey from Lothlorien to Amon Hen, a character exploration of the impacts of the Ring on the characters and the strengthening of Legolas and Gimli’s friendship. It’s incredibly sensitive and tender, and it’s gen, officially, but the author has also written L/G romance and some of the lines of this fic dance very carefully along that border. And it’s unfinished, yes, but it’s not like we don’t know what happens, since it’s a gapfiller for the story we all know.

The Obligations of Lordship by hope91

The friendship between the Lords of Aglarond and Ithilien is legendary - so much so that it's rumored they're more-than-friends.

But the duties of leadership beckon and trump all. So it can hardly be a surprise when Gimli is asked to marry for political reasons, right?

…

Man, this story is such a delicious might-have-been. It’s only a few chapters long, but it sets up such a delightful premise – an ongoing friends-with-benefits relationship between Legolas and Gimli, in which Legolas has developed real feelings, and is trying to figure out how to express them. It promised to be a delightful mistaken-identities courtship romp, and while there’s not much out there, if you’re interested in the premise, I invite you to read it and dream with me about possibility!

Love in a Time of Train Heists by notanightlight

I’m just linking the series here – this is a wonderful, delightful Wild West AU, the first part of which I’ve recced on a previous list. The meet-cute is complete, but the second story in the series is not. I highly recommend reading the first (complete) story, then starting the second anyway, just for delightful character interaction, a delicious premise, and the setting, which I can’t get enough of.

An Economy of Scars by errandofmercy

Touched by Gimli's affection and hoping to heal the wounds between Elves and Dwarves before she leaves Middle-Earth, Galadriel bestows a strange gift upon Legolas: the power to spare his companion from an untimely death. Unbeknownst to Legolas, however, the Lady's gift has some harrowing consequences. Hurt/comfort with an eventual happy ending. This story will be concluded in the second chapter.

…

Ah, the promise in that last sentence . . . This fic is a wonderful, wonderful long one-chapter read that I sometimes return to even though I don’t know how it ends, just for the incredible tenderness in the first chapter. It has angst, self-sacrifice, whump, characters weeping over each other’s bodies . . . you name it. It ends on a cliffhanger, but what a delightful torment!

Stone Hearts and Halls by appleapple

Gimli is injured in an accident rebuilding the city of Minas Tirith. When Legolas arrives he finds that not all is well in Aragorn's kingdom.

…

This is some high-quality hurt/comfort, dwarf worldbuilding, and intrigue with a hefty side of mutual pining and tender tender feels. One of the few unfinished get-together stories where they actually do get together before the “/?” of doom – though it’s very close, in this case! I actually dare to think this might be one of those stories where the most pressing issues of plot are wrapped up before the story discontinues, and even if the author had more planned, you should absolutely read what’s there anyway just for the pleasure of it.

The Gift of Premonition by Mawgon

When Gimli was a youth at the cusp of adulthood, his mother vanished under mysterious circumstances. His father was unfazed, and put double the pressure on Gimli to become the fierce warrior he himself could not be. The young dwarf's only solace was a secret relationship with the dwarf his father hired to teach him fighting. His father found out about it, and now Gimli is about to be executed.

The only thing that can save his life now is being bought as a slave - and that is a fate worse than death in the average case. It is worse when it is an elf who buys him.

…

All right, so fair warning, this story does what it says on the summary. It plays with a darker aspect of possible worldbuilding, and it contains a good deal of sexism and homophobia. But if you’re the sort of person who enjoys whump (which I am), this story is very fun to indulge in. It shows a more vulnerable Gimli, which is always a bit of a rare treat in fanworks, and is very very soft and tender and slow and respectful of ideas of consent, which is also something I love. Also plays with the idea of a fully genderbent Hobbit dwarf cast! It’s unfinished, but most Plot Elements were wrapped up and it feels like it’s mostly a characters-coming-together focus – and at very least, the confessions are out of the way. :)

love is brightest in the dark by picapica

A story about beginnings, or: Aglarond wasn't built in a day.

…

GHGHGHKLSJFI if there were ever a fic that makes me go absolutely FERAL, this one is it. It’s set in the early days of Aglarond, Gimli and his little crew of dwarves getting started with the building, and there is a lot of lovely worldbuilding and scenery exploration and ROMANTIC INTRIGUE – my gosh. Gimli is in love with Legolas and he doesn’t KNOW he’s in love with Legolas but all his other companions do and they sort of alternate between teasing him about it and being a little suspicious, all while Gimli tries to pretend he doesn’t know what they’re talking about . . . and then Legolas does show up for a little while and it’s SWEET and TENDER and PLAYFUL and LOVING and no, it’s not finished, and no, they don’t get together, but – look, just trust me, read it, it’s so wonderful and so worth your time.

An Ounce of Perception by stateofintegrity

Legolas and Gimli begin to perceive one another.

…

Ohhhhhhh, this story. This story is so gorgeously-written, so tender and character-sensitive; it has one of those confession scenes that gives me butterflies in my stomach for the characters, and I love so much when that happens! It’s one of those stories that explores a slow-blooming love in the in-between spaces of the canon narrative, letting Legolas and Gimli learn to see and love all that lies beneath the surface, learn to tremble at one another’s touch, learn to fall in love. It’s unfinished, but again – we know how the story goes, and it’s just a wonderful meander along with the characters through that story . . . but with the love made explicit. <3

…

As always, I’m sure this rec list is noncomprehensive – I’m sure I’ll think of some other stories I wish I’d added to it as soon as I’ve posted – so please don’t take it as a complete list of all the stories I love in this category. But please, if you’re someone like me who reads WIPs, do take a chance on some of these – and honestly, if you love any of them, you’re always welcome to come talk to me about it, so we can ease our pain together! :)

And also, as always, please do drop the author a comment if you do read and enjoy them – just because they’re unfinished doesn’t mean the authors don’t deserve love.

[menelvagor]

Continued from here.

@ofthevanyar

“I suppose that would be your right,” Amarië gave a little shrug. “You outrank them - they can’t make you do anything.”

… As far as she knew. Perhaps there was some method by which the Kings Council could overrule him, some ancient law or the like.

“You could always banish them from the court.” She joked.

Éomer frowned, looking down towards the table. "I am the King, but it is not as though I am to do anything and everything that I wish. There are certain expectations they have for me and diplomacy to consider."

A gleam came to his eyes then at her joke. "Aye, I have already looked into that idea, trust me. One is close to being banished. . ."

[melnchly-a]

( a LOTHIRIEL starter for @eomertheblessed ! ) 

      “that is my brother’s horse.” her voice is soft, betraying in its tones the strange sort of shyness she feels in his presence, of a different sort - - - she feels - - - than meeting strangers. and yet it would be strange to say nothing at all, to simply pass him by on her way to spoil her own horse with a lump or two of sugar, when she found him at her brother’s horse’s stall?  “his name, i fear, is roch.” here comes a little smile, now, lingering over the word although she blushes, has to turn away to look at the great black horse within the stall, instead. “in sindarin, it means horse. amrothos often finds himself funny when the rest of the world does not.” 

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

He catches sight of her face, the skepticism in it. ‘I was in a painter’s workshop for a time. Before I was made to switch trades.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘Kept brawling with the master’s son. It wasn’t my fault the boy was unforgivably ugly not to mention stupid and absolutely had it coming.’  

‘You sure it’s not you?’ Osanna asks, holding her hand out she motions for the painting. ‘I suspect there might be a common thread and its name is Pietro.’

Pietro is like if Grima and Eomer had a deeply unfortunate son. 

Lurks in corners? check. Drowned rat appearance? check. Compulsively truculent? check. Prone to dropping sick burns at inappropriate times? check. Just always ready to fight? check. Would brawl with Gimli if there were a cross over? absolutely. Would backstab someone for money? 100% and with zero regrets. Has his moments of charm and charisma? for sure. 

[dw-writes]

Kinktober 2020 - Shower/Bath - Éomer x Fem!Reader

WHY did this give me so much trouble??? because I couldn’t remember Eomer’s personality, that’s fucking why. I hope i did him justice? And I hope that you guys appreciate this!! This is a little longer than some of the other kinktobers but thats okay eue*

PLEASE remember to block the tags KINKTOBER 2020, SMUT, and LEMON if you do NOT wish to see these kinds of posts on your dash!! Thank you!

The halls of Meduseld were cool for the winter months, bringing in a chill that you had yet to shake since the longer nights had set in. Even with your heavy robes, the cold night sunk into your bones. You slipped from your quiet room, wrapping your robe around you tight, and headed down the hall, towards the bath that sat near the back of the Great Hall. Your candle hardly cast a shadow, and the closer you got to your destination, the lighter the halls became. You slowed before the door, finding it cracked open, and a small cloud of steam rolling from around its wood. You shifted in front of the door to peer through the crack to find a very familiar man sinking into the water with a groan.

You shifted back as warmth flooded your cheeks. You had been close to Éomer for as long as you could remember – learned to ride horseback with him, learned to fight with swords and with spears with him, comforted him when his father was slain in battle and his mother died of grief, joined the Éored with him despite your mother’s many complaints – and during all of that time you had developed deep feelings for him, feelings that you as a lay woman and one of his riders had to put aside. And that was all when he was merely the third Marshal.

Now, he was king of Rohan.

You stepped back as you pulled your robe closer to you. You should return to your rooms, you thought. You had plenty of furs that had been gifted to you by Éowyn when you had been given the title of Lady of the Éored after the war. They would do you just as well as a warm bath on a cold night. As you shifted your weight, the board creaked beneath you. You froze.

“Who is there?” called Éomer. You licked your fingers and pinched your candle out, stepping back more to avoid being seen. You shouldn’t have lingered so long. The water shifted. “You had best show yourself, lest I come for you.”

You swore to yourself and stepped to the door, easing it open with one hand while setting your extinguished candle just inside the door. “I would hate for you to leave the comfort of a warm bath, my king,” you called, casting your eyes down at the floor. You could see him in your periphery, standing in the wooden bath, steam rolling off his damp skin. One knee sat on the edge of the bath, while his arm was extended towards his things, folded neatly on a nearby table. Gúthwinë sat atop them.

Éomer swore something violent and quick in Rohirric as he sank back into the water, sending it splashing over the sides and across the stone floor of the room. First, he whispered your name, soft, like a swear or a prayer that only he could hear; then, he cleared his throat and met your gaze. You finally looked up. It was hard to tell, but his face appeared flush in the candlelight. “My lady,” he greeted with a polite nod of his head.

You rolled your eyes as you stepped further into the room, closing the door behind you. The warmth was wonderful, the soft smell of bath oils cloying in the humid air. You curled your toes and eased open your thick robe. You didn’t miss Éomer’s eyes flick down your nightgown. “I’ve known you far too long for you to call me a lady, Éomer,” you joked.

He relaxed against the far wall of the bath, scoffing lightly as he reclined in the water. One knee broke the surface. He lifted his hand to his face and scratched lightly at his jaw. “It’s only proper,” he commented, “Given how hard you worked for your title.”

“A title is just a word, and this is hardly a proper situation,” you said.

He grinned. His other arm lifted from the water to rest on the edge of the bath, his fingers dragging over the surface. “I take it that you came here to warm up,” he said, dropping his hand from his face.

“I did.” You removed your robe and folded it once over your arm, crossing the room to lift Gúthwinë from Éomer’s clothes and set your robe beneath it. “Though, I was expecting to be alone.”

“Oh, are you saying that you would rather be without my company?” he teased. You reached into the water and flicked a spray at him. He laughed softly. “You are welcome to join me,” he said in a voice so low that it stirred between your legs and hardened your nipples beneath your dress. He noticed them, too. His eyes lingered before wandering back to your face.

You cleared your throat and tucked your loose hair back. “Now that is not proper, my king.”

He didn’t hesitate with his response, “If you insist on calling me your king, then I insist that you join me.” He arched a single eyebrow and cocked his head. “Or should I order you to, Lady of the Éored?”

“I’ve never known you to abuse your power,” you commented. You reached up to the collar of your dress, intent on removing the thin garment, but paused. His eyes watched you intently, trailed over the curves that your gown hung off. “Yes?” you asked.

“You’re taking far too long,” he said. “Perhaps I should help you.”

You let the gown fall to the floor and stepped towards the bath, perching carefully on the wide edge before turning and letting your feet sink into the water. “Perhaps you are overstepping your bounds, Éomer.” You swallowed the small moan that bubbled up your throat as you sank into the bath. It warmed you all the way from your toes to the ends of your hair.

Éomer’s hand wrapped around your ankle and tugged you to him, earning a surprised gasp as his hands grasped your thighs and pulled you into his lap. His cock was hard when you settled against him and his mouth was set in a smug grin. “Oh, I overstep my bounds?” he whispered. “Pray tell, what bounds are those? I am king of Rohan.”

“The bounds of propriety?” you offered as his hands cupped your ass. You braced against his shoulders as he rocked your hips against him, his cock sliding over your clit so lightly that you moaned. You threaded you fingers through his damp hair to cradle the back of his head, leaning your forehead against his as he repeated the motion again, and again, and again. “Though, what is propriety compared to our history?” you whispered.

“Nothing,” he groaned, so close to your mouth that you could feel his words. “I want you,” he whispered. A wet hand brushed over the curve of your cheek. His thumb hesitantly traced the curve of your bottom lip. Your tongue flicked out to meet it, pressed flat against the pad of thumb in a motion that made him tremble. “Not as Éomer King, or Marshall of the Mark,” he continued. His arm wrapped around your waist and he lifted you onto the ledge of the bath, tilting his head up watch you.

You slid your unoccupied hand between your bodies and lined his cock up with your entrance. His eyes flickered and he took in a slow, shuddering breath at the feeling of your soaked pussy. His nose brushed past yours, his thumb dropping from your mouth to hold your head still, lest you dared to pull away. Then, he froze, hovered there, watching you. He swallowed as he dared to slide a hand over the back of your thigh and lift your leg around his hips, whimpering your name like it was the only thing he knew.

You smiled, and whispered, “Then take me, Éomer.” You tilted your head and grazed your lips over his. “Make me yours.”

He entered you slowly, stretching you as he buried himself deep, watching as your eyes fluttered closed and feeling your moan against his mouth. His lips ghosted over yours while his own eyes slid shut and you pulled him into you, capturing his mouth with your own. His thrusts were slow and steady, always hitting deep, always skimming the most sensitive spots against your walls that you could not stimulate enough on your own. You whined as he tilted your hips up, gasping his name and gripping his arms as he pulled your legs higher around his waist. You locked your ankles behind his back, urging him faster with a moaned command.

Éomer’s lips skimmed your neck and his hips snapped against yours, sloshing water up around his hips with the new frantic pace. You felt his knuckle graze over your chest and throat, then dip between you, and his damp thumb rolled your clit in tight circles.

You threw your head back with a gasp, bucking your hips up to meet his, feeling the hot coil tightening somewhere in your gut. You covered your mouth to muffle your wails. Éomer grabbed your wrist and pinned it to the wall behind your head, breathless grunts puffing against your ear as he said, “Let me hear you.”

“Éomer!” you panted with reckless abandon, your voice pitching higher and louder until his thumb stuttered over your clit. Your walls clamped around him tighter than they ever had around your fingers and you dug the nails of your free hand into his shoulder as the coil broke and stars burst behind your eyes. Your King, your Marshall, your Éomer wasn’t far behind, swearing and gripping your hip as his hot cum poured into you. His head dropped to your shoulder and his arms wrapped tight around your back, holding you close as your walls squeezed and milked his cock for everything he had. Sweat trickled down your temple, something he noticed when he trailed sloppy kisses over your jaw.

“Are you warm enough now, my lady?” he teased.

You laughed breathlessly. “Far too warm, now,” you murmured. You reached up and pushed his hair back behind his ears as he met your gaze. “I love you, Éomer King,” you whispered into the tiny space between your mouth and his.

“And I love you, Lady of the Éored,” he replied, “Something I should have said ages ago.” His nose brushed yours as he smiled. He leaned into you for a slow and gentle kiss and moved back into the lukewarm water with you in his lap.

[maedhrosrussandol]

This thread is perfect

https://twitter.com/edyong209/status/1335317224924606465?s=21

But where is Gimli? And Eomer? And Pippin?

[somanylivestochoose]

Healing Loss

Wanted to try my hand at a Eomer X Lothiriel Meet

Chapter 1: Passing Corridors 

Lothíriel

I felt exhausted for I have not slept since Mordor’s army first arrived at Minas Tirith. That fear chocked the air and I focused on ensuring the House of Healing was set up for those who needed help.  

I had seen the army that was sent to destroy the world of men, the chance of survival was none. But alas the men of Rohan had come and saved us, along with our crowned king.

King.

My lips pulled into a smile at the thought. I had grown up hearing about Gondor’s heir and now he has come to regain his thrown. My body shuttered remembering my uncle Denethor, one death I do not morn.

Who I do mourn for is the hundreds of men, women and children who have been slain.

But as of right now I don’t have time to mourn, as a lead healer in the House of Healing my duty is to try to save those who still draw breath. We have thousands to tend to from the Battle of Pelennor and now we also have the men who have just arrived from the battle of the Black Gate.

There are limbs that are broken, limbs cut off, limbs needing to be cut off, stitches to be sewn…

Turning a corner too quickly I slam into someone, their hands quickly moving to my arms keeping me from falling to the floor.

A quick glance at his armor told me he was a rider from Rohan.

“My apologies, I was not watching where I was going.” The man said, my eyes moving to his face.

His blond hair and dirt covered face made it near impossible to see him. Yet even despite the signs of war on him, I couldn’t help the thought that he was one of the most attractive men I have seen. The strength in his shoulders and brightness of his blue eyes. I tried to look at his armor to see his station in the Rohirrim but it was near impossible with the blood and dirt from battle.

Realizing I haven’t said anything I waved my hand to dismiss his apology. “It was my fault, I shouldn’t have been running. Are you looking for your fellow countryman?” He gave a nod, his face tight with stress and pain. “They are in the other wing, we are keeping them together for comradery and access for your new king.”

Something flashed across his face but he was quick to hide it. Mentally I cursed myself, they had lost their king a few days ago and I had casually mentioned their new king. A painful memory of the loss they have suffered.

He cleared his throat. “Do you know how they are?”

It was my turn to nod. My hands wiping themselves on a rag I had dangling from my dress. “They are doing well, I have heard the strength of Rohan and now I see it your countryman. They were losses but we have been able to save many. Many will be able to go home when your Lord Éomer goes back but some will have a long recovery.”

The man gave a breath of relief, his shoulder’s sagging slightly.

Noticing blood coming from his neck my hands went up pulling his tunic showing me a bandage wrapped around his neck soaked with blood.

He flinched pulling himself away from my touch. “I’m fine.”

I rolled my eyes, I’ll never get over soldiers who think that any wound is not important.

“Sit, I can have it cleaned and stitched quickly.” I motioned to another healer for a bowl of hot water.

He shook his head and I pushed him not so gently onto a bench, the man giving a reluctant sigh once his body took a rest. “I’m sure you have more important patients, you were running.”

He didn’t fight me as I took off the bandage getting a better look at his wound, the bandage making a light thump from the blood when it dropped on the table. Lightly, I pulled his tunic away from the wound giving me better access. It wasn’t too deep, but went the entire length of his neck most likely from a spear.

“You’re now my patient.” My handmaid and fellow healer Gylious dropped off a warm bowl with herbs already steeped in it. I pulled out a clean bandage from my pouch to dip into the water.

The tall man in front of me leaned back against the wall watching me carefully. “If you don’t have a patient why were you running.”

Biting my lip, I took the wet cloth and slowly began to clean his wound, taking away the blood and dirt. “I was coming back from a surgery, didn’t go well.”  His head tilted while I continued cleaning the wound, his eyes asking to know what happened. No, they weren’t asking, they were demanding me to tell. “Small child, attacked by a warg during the battle he had low chances of surviving but it doesn’t make it any easier.”

A moment of silence went between us, the grief of war is a heavy feeling. The cloth and once clean water bowl now turned red from blood I had cleaned off him. The silence allowed the losses of war to  begin to strangle me.

“What’s Rohan like?” I needed the sound of conversation, a break from the screaming of men and women and of the fight to keep them in the land of living. And this attractive man could give me it. “I hear the land of the horse lords is a sea of grass for miles and the fields are filled with the world’s strongest and fairest horses.”

The questions worked as a soft smile crossed his face lifting his blue eyes that reminded me of the oceans around Dol Amroth.

“Rohan has fields of grass that stretch as far at the eye can see, Ederas gleams on top of mountain acting like a beacon when you ride home. There is no greater sight then the golden hall of the Meduseld beckoning you home. The land makes you free and the mountains protected.” He replied relaxed thinking about his home.

Picking up a needle and thread I quickly disinfect and line it up to the wound. “And the famous horses of the horse lords?”

He didn’t flitch when the needle went through, the thread pulling his skin together to close the skin. “They are strong, true beasts of grace and power. Our horses are descendants of the Maeras they take after their strength and grace, though the true blooded Maeras run wild in Rohan.”

I couldn’t help my curiosity of Rohan from hearing about their horses and land but never seeing it. “Do you have one of the Maeras?”

He let out a soft chuckle as I continued stitching. “No, I have an offspring of one who is part, Firefoot but when I get back to Rohan and retire him from war I may be blessed to ride a Maeras now.”

“Blessed? Are they particular about who rides them?” I gave the final stitch to tie off.

He nodded, a forced smile on his face. “They only allow certain men on their back.”

Trying to lighten whatever set his mood back I took a clean bandage and started wrapping it around the wound as I gave him a cheeky look. “Would they let me on their back? I’m a decent rider and I’ll give them lots of treats.”

The Rohirrim now let out a laugh, one that is light and brightened his face from any grief he carried. “Now why didn’t I think about trying that.”

Chuckling with a shrug I tie off the bandage. “Sometimes you need another perspective.”

Feeling someone walk up I turn to my handmaiden Gylious who bowed to us. “Apologies, but your brother is looking for you.”

“Thank you Gylious.” She bowed her head and departed letting me finish up, my hands fixing his tunic then dropped to clean up the mess. “Make sure to keep it clean, if you have any discomfort please come find me.”

The Rohirrim stood up from the table rolling his neck, his height making me feel short even though I was taller for most women in Gondor. “No need to worry, I have had many wounds in the past I know how to clean them.”

I hummed giving him a disapproving look. “Says the same man who told me not to worry about that wound on your neck?”

He laughed again making me smile, in the past week or hell months I could list the times I heard a real laugh. Maybe there will be joy after the war. “I suppose your right my lady, I will take your words with care. Thank you for looking after my men and for stitching me up.”

Taking my hand, he kissed the back of hand, the kiss giving a tingling sensation where his lips met. “Good day, my lady.”

Bowing my head, I turn from him, heading to where one of my brothers would be.

Stopping my feet, I turning focusing on the man who was walking away. “Rohirrim?” The man stopped glancing back over his shoulder to me. “Thank you for coming to our aid and I’m sorry for the price you have had to suffer for doing so.”

He bowed his head. “It was a price worth paying my lady.”

Giving him another smile, I turned back to where I needed to go, the talk with the Rohirrim made my heart feel lighter from the grief that tries to pull me into despair.

Seeing a familiar figure with black hair and tanner skin than those around us I found myself running to get to them as fast as I could.

“Erchirion!” My older brother turned in time when I launched myself into him, his arms coming around me to catch me in a hug. “I heard you were alright and well but seeing it is another. How are you, are you okay?”

He squeezed me then let me down, the second my feet hit the ground I began to look him over checking for anything. Erchirion took my hands holding them, “I am fine little swan, it’s good to see you well, I have been worried about you. When was the last time you slept?”

His hand cupped my check, his thumb brushing under my eyes where my dark shadows are. “It doesn’t matter, I’ll sleep when I can.”

Erchirion looked softly at me. He is one of my older brothers and one I was most close with growing up between my other two. “You should come home tonight for supper and bed.”

My face winced thinking about a family dinner. “Will he be there?”

Erchirion’s face soften and he squeezed my hand. “Father loves you little swan… Alright if not for dinner then at least to sleep okay? You need it Lothí.”

Sighing I looked around at the scenes around us. Leaning against my brother I shake my head wanting nothing more than a night with my brothers and my bed but I couldn’t. “No, there is so much work to be done and we lost healers during the battle. Go, be merry and I’ll catch you soon, okay?”

He sighed leaning forward to kiss my forehead. “Okay, but tomorrow night I’ll drag you back for a full meal and night sleep. I love you.”

“Love you too.” I gave him a hug, taking it longer than usual needing to feel that he is okay and not on a bed in the house or on a pyre to be burned. “Go, I’m sure Amrothos is barrel deep by now.”

My older brother chuckled letting me go. “Aye, see you tomorrow little swan.”

He walked away and I looked around at the organized chaos, my bones felt ready to give at any moment. Maybe if this is a calm night I will try to go home for a real night of sleep and not in a chair.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13796146/1/Healing-Loss