Gift from the Rohirrim
From Sian (Denise)
Pairing Erestor/Eómer
Rating NC-17
For the Secret Santa Fiction Swap

Several Days before Yule in Minas Tirith...

The celebrations were in full swing in the King’s great halls. Aragorn and Arwen had planned a week’s worth of celebrations leading up to Yule. Festive joy ran through the city, this first Yuletide of the reunited Kingdom. Many of the guests had accepted invitations for that very reason, but many also came out of desire to catch a glimpse of their Queen’s kin. The Elves made as merry as the mortals, but to their celebrations, a more somber air could be felt.

The brethren, Elladan and Elrohir, made their way through the throngs of giddy mortals in search of two Elves -- more precisely, their mentors, tutors, and surrogate fathers, Erestor and Glorfindel. The long-time friends had snuck away several bottles of spirits between them. After much searching, the pair was found enclosed within a small private family room in the King's wing. Aragorn had set aside several suites just for his foster family from Imladris.

Glorfindel's booming laugh and Erestor's quieter snickers could be heard before the twins opened the door. The two elder Elves were enclosed in matching chairs before a roaring fire, each clutching a bottle in hand.

Elladan laughed at the sight of the two tipsy Elves. "Ah, so here you are. We have been searching the palace for you!" He and Elrohir shut the door behind them, joining the two in front of the fire.

"W-well, you have found us. Now what do the pair of you want?" Erestor asked, eyeing the four figures in front of him with bleary black eyes.

Elrohir snickered as he reached out, plucking the bottle of Dorwinian wine from Glorfindel's fingers. Elrohir ignored the grumbling from Imladris' Seneschal and shared the bottle with his twin. "We have already asked Ada, Arwen, Aragorn, and Glorfindel. Now it is your turn, Erestor."

"Turn for what?" Erestor asked, suspicion heavy in his voice. Anything the twins wanted to ask spelled trouble, as far as Erestor was concerned. The pair was known far and wide for their pranks and rowdy sense of humor.

Elladan scooted closer to his former tutor’s chair. "We have everyone’s Yuletide gift request but yours, Erestor," Elladan grinned at Glorfindel. "We have Glorfindel’s request for a case of Thranduil’s prized wine, Arwen’s request for some special Imladris treats, Aragorn's pipeweed, and Ada’s wish for a painting of each of us. Now all we need is yours, Chief Councilor."

Erestor looked down fondly -- admittedly a little blurrily -- at the Peredhel twins. They were special to him, but he really needed no gift. "There is nothing I want pen nith, save well wishes from you both," Erestor admitted, his words only slightly slurred.

"Come now, Erestor! There must be something you desire. Tell us, you know Elladan and I can procure whatever you would wish," Elrohir solemnly promised, though the twinkle in his eyes said laughter was not far behind.

Erestor’s eyes gleamed, and a wolfish smile crept across his lips. "Well, there is one thing I would not mind having," he said, and Glorfindel hid a smirk, hearing the tone of his friend’s voice. He recognized drunken lewdness when he heard it.

Elladan groaned. "Now Erestor, enough teasing. Yuletide is almost here. What would you have as a gift?"

Erestor took a long swallow directly from the bottle that sat in his lap. His face was deadpan as he spoke. "I would really enjoy one of those Rohirrim. I have heard it said that there are no finer riders to be found on Arda," he declared, smirking.

The twins frowned as Glorfindel laughed himself right out of his chair. They did not understand Erestor's jest.  "A Rohirrim?" Elrohir asked.

"What would you do with one?" Elladan asked as he finished his brother’s question.

Glorfindel roared with laughter at the brethren's innocent question. Over the Elda’s loud chuckles, Erestor answered quite seriously. "Why, ride him, of course." He appeared thoughtful for a moment as Glorfindel continued to laugh. "On second thought, being ridden sounds like a fine idea as well," Erestor declared, ignoring the twins' open-mouthed expressions.

Erestor set the bottle down carefully, and using the armrest, rose on unsteady legs. He leaned forward precariously to help his laughing friend back into his chair. Then he stood, swaying just a bit, to face the still open-mouthed twins. "With those lovely images dancing in my head, I bid you a good night."  Erestor walked to the door. It took two attempts for him to turn the knob, and before he was through the portal, the twins stopped him.

"Erestor, you do remember the way back to your room?" Elrohir asked.

Erestor turned and snickered. "Yes, though if I was to get lost in a certain Horse Lord’s bed, I would not complain."

Much gaiety could be heard from the King's great hall in Minas Tirith. On this, the longest night of the year -- Yuletide -- the hall was decorated in great wreaths of evergreen, cedar, and holly. Mistletoe hung from every available nook and cranny, and many kisses were exchanged beneath. The air was rich with the scents of the season, and great bowls of wassail were consumed. Clove-studded fruit adorned each table, and the ale flowed freely. If the King's mortal guests wondered at the gaiety of the Elves, only a select few were privy to the reason. For this would be the last Yuletide the Elves would celebrate on Arda.

Erestor had enjoyed just enough spirits to lift his own, and it was with a rare smile upon his face that he bid everyone a good night and made his way to his chambers. Erestor opened his chamber door, happy to see a fire blazing in the hearth. The rest of the chamber was dim, quiet and peaceful. It was with much relief that Erestor shed his heavy outer-robe, the formal gray silk flung haphazardly across a chair. His shirt soon followed as Erestor made his way past the large bed to the wardrobe. He was untying his leggings when a muffled grunt had him spinning toward the bed.

A naughty grin stole across Erestor's face. There, trussed up with ropes binding his arms and legs, and with a gag firmly between his full lips, lay Éomer, King of the Rohirrim. Erestor's smile grew as he approached the bed and the bound King. The wiggles and grunts increased the closer he came. Finally standing beside the bed, Erestor started to laugh. "Oh, those wicked twins," he snorted, as Éomer seemed to shake his head in agreement.

Erestor's eyes took in the tousled blond locks, mussed more due to Éomer's struggles. The King's blue eyes blazed angrily up at Erestor, his full pink lips... Erestor thought it a shame that they were somewhat hidden by the gag. Erestor's gaze traveled down the broad chest, the open tunic revealing the dusting of curly blond hair there, past the flat stomach to the strong thighs, their muscles straining and tendons standing out as Éomer struggled against his bonds.

Erestor did nothing to hide the hunger in his own eyes as they rose to meet Éomer's. "I suppose you want me to release you?" Erestor asked, regretfully.

Erestor reached down and removed the gag, pulling the cloth down over Éomer's chin. "You are sure?" Erestor could not resist asking. Éomer's growl was his answer, and Erestor frowned as he untied the rest of the King's bonds. "Do not be angry with the brethren, this was meant only as a gift to me," Erestor calmly explained as he struggled with the last knot. As he finally freed the King's leg, Éomer sprang up, and grabbing Erestor around the waist, pulled him down to the bed, rolling them swiftly until Erestor was pinned under Éomer's body.

Éomer smiled down into the shocked black eyes of the Elf under him. "If you do not mind, I will do the riding," he said, before covering the Elf’s lips with his own.

The kiss was hungry, rough, and had Erestor purring. The feel of the King’s chest, the hair tickling Erestor’s nipples, had the dark haired Elf moaning and wiggling about to tease himself more.

Éomer groaned at the Elf’s taste. Breaking the kiss only to breath, he whispered in a rough voice, "You Elves taste so very sweet. I cannot wait to see how the rest of you taste." That said, the King of the Riddermark laid siege to every inch of Erestor’s form. Each cherry red nipple was bitten and sucked until the little nubs stood at attention. Lips, tongue, and teeth tasted the Elf’s flat stomach, the tongue stopping to tease at the belly-button, drawing whimpers from the Elf.

Erestor cried out as his length was licked from base to tip, Éomer’s tongue pausing to gather the drops of Erestor’s seed and savoring them like fine wine. That wicked tongue traveled down, licking along each delicate globe before drawing them in a hungry mouth and sucking.

Erestor could only beg, whimper, and cry out, as he was ravished. That tongue had him on trembling on edge, but refused to send him over it. As the King’s tongue circled his opening, Erestor's control snapped, and reaching down, pulled Éomer's string body up and on top of him. Erestor sighed blissfully at the Man’s heavy weight, and wiggled delighted as their lengths rubbed together.

Erestor smirked at the Rohirrim. "Well, Horse Lord, let us see your riding," he growled.

Éomer said nothing, only leaned back, rising to his knees. He parted the Elf’s long legs, bending them until Erestor’s heels rested on the mattress. Spreading the Elf’s thighs wide, Éomer brought their lower bodies flush together. "If you have something to ease the way, you had best fetch it now, Elf." It was Éomer’s turn to smirk as Erestor’s eyes widened at the feel of Éomer’s large flesh pressed firmly against his entrance.

Wordlessly Erestor pointed to the small nightstand, and he groaned as Éomer reached across his body to reach for the oil. Éomer locked eyes with Erestor as he slicked his fingers. Keeping their gazes pinned together, he circled the Elf’s entrance, coating the outer rim with the rich oil. He breeched the Elf with one quick shove of his finger, immediately curling it to hit the Elf’s sweet spot, bringing Erestor’s hips off the mattress with a howl.

Éomer grinned devilish as he added another finger, stretching the Elf for a much larger invasion. Every other thrust hit the spot that had Erestor arching off the bed, Elvish curses falling from his red lips. By the time Éomer had three fingers pumping in and out, Erestor was pleading.

Éomer removed his fingers, ignoring the whine of protest. He gathered the pale thighs in his strong arms and draped them across his shoulders. Bending down, he took Erestor’s lips in a fierce kiss, and with one thrust, speared the Elf on his length. Both groaned at the feeling of filling and being filled. Éomer braced his arms on either side of the Elf’s head, and flexing his hips, pulled out, only to slam back in. In and out, he repeated his thrust, until the large bed was shaking and the Elf moaned continuously.

Éomer looked down at the vision spread out under him. The Elf was astonishing! Black tresses tossed about, pale face flushed, red lips bruised and plump. Éomer’s hips sped up as flashing black eyes opened and locked with his. Erestor arched his hips, meeting each thrust hungrily. He reached down between their bodies, desperately needing to touch his aching length. Erestor cried out as a strong hand beat him to it, wrapping itself firmly around his arousal and stroking from base to tip.

"Ah!" Erestor cried as his body began to tremble. "C-close," he moaned as his passage was ruthlessly plundered again and again.

Éomer grunted, robbed of his power of speech as he thrust faster and harder. He stroked the Elf’s length faster, wanting the Elf to come with him. Éomer gave a harsh howl as the channel around his length tightened and began milking his flesh. His fist sped up and was soon covered in pearly fluid as the Elf exploded.

Erestor screamed as his orgasm was ripped from him. His hips still thrust up and down, meeting the man’s length as Éomer filled Erestor with his seed.

Éomer’s arms trembled, and he carefully lowered his heavy form down to cover the trembling Elf. He again claimed the Elf’s mouth for his own, this time soothing with his lips and tongue. They rested like this until breathing became normal, before Éomer carefully pulled out and rolled to Erestor’s side.

Éomer pulled the exhausted Erestor into his arms. "All the twins had to do was ask. I would have said yes," he grumbled, laughing when Erestor burst into chuckles.

Erestor looked up into the King’s twinkling blue eyes. He grinned devilishly. "I heard correctly, then," he said.

Éomer cocked one brow in question.

"Rohirrim do make the best riders," Erestor replied, as he moved up to straddle the King’s hips. As his lips lowered to Éomer’s, he said,  "Now let me show you how fine we Elves ride."

Laughter followed by groans could be heard from the Elf’s room for the rest of this, the longest night of the year....

The End