Enchanted
by Alex

"Then Éomer son of Éomund, Third Marshal of Riddermark, let Gimli the Dwarf Gloin's son warn you against foolish words. You speak evil of that which is fair beyond the reach of your thought, and only little wit can excuse you."—Gimli to Éomer, concerning Galadriel and Lothlorien in Chapter II of The Two Towers.

After the crowning of Kings and the weddings of Princes, King Éomer was alone in Edoras, Faramir had wedded his fair sister finally and King Elessar's reign had begun. But before he did anything else, he knew he had to find the leader of the Elf army sent from Rivendell to Helm's Deep. The elven casualties had been high and he wanted to personally thank the elf who had led them. Legolas told him the elf's name was Haldir of Lothlorien.

Lothlorien! The very name of the place struck dread in his heart. He had wandered into that realm once as a younger man and had been enchanted somehow by the elf, Galadriel, even though he didn't meet her. He wasn't sure that he didn't think her a witch still, even though he had gazed upon her beauty when she attended the weddings. He had never forgotten the days he spent in the strange elf kingdom.

Oh, well. He was no callow youth now, and wasn't afraid of enchantment. He did owe the elves a thanks. Their casualties had been high, but they had been tireless and fierce. He had to thank Haldir personally. He had risked his life and suffered serious injury.

Éomer set out alone, taking his time as he made his way north to the Lorien forest. The last few months had taken their toll on him, both mentally and physically. He'd had little time to grieve for his cousin, before his uncle and so many of his friends had died too. He was glad his sister had found someone to love her, someone worthy of her. He camped along the way, ever wary and on guard. He was glad to be alone, though. He had time to think a bit.

Lothlorien came too soon. He came upon the southern border and crossed into the forest. The sun shone down through the tall trees, dappling the forest floor in sunlight and shadow. Éomer dismounted and was turned toward his horse when the elf spoke behind him.

"Rider of Rohan, what business do you have here in Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel's realm?" The voice was familiar, so like one he'd heard years ago. He turned and looked into the dark eyes of the same elf who had stopped him on the Northern Border so many years ago. His knees didn't want to work. He swallowed, realizing how dry his mouth was.

"I have come seeking Haldir of Lorien."

"What business have you with Haldir?"

Éomer didn't want to tell this haughty elf anything, but knew that he would not be allowed to travel farther if he did not.

"I am the King of Rohan, and I came to thank him for his aid at Helm's Deep. Without the elven warriors, the Deep would have fallen."

"But Lord Elrond of Rivendell sent the warriors."

"Haldir led them, at great peril to himself. I owe him my thanks. Indeed I owe him a great deal more."

The elf looked at him with cold eyes, his disdain on a little less than it was before. He turned quickly away and said, "Very well, follow me. One of my brothers will see to your horse."

Another silver elf came out of the shadows and led Éomer's stallion away. Éomer followed the first elf. He thought as they walked. This forest truly was enchanted by some witch or evil power. He thought about all those years ago, and his face burned in shame.

He had gotten lost and ended up here in Lothlorien. This elf had stopped him and taken him to a flet and kept him there for a week. Men of Rohan did not give themselves to other males, men nor elf. But he had. He had, in the end, begged the elf to take him, to love him one more time. And the elf had done so, again and again over the days and nights he had spent in the forest.

When he left Lothlorien, he told himself that only an enchantment could have caused him to behave in such a manner, to give himself so shamelessly, to be an elf's whore. He never told anyone about what happened in the forest. He never even told anyone that he had ended up in Lothlorien at all.

And he was back.

The elf didn't even act as if he recognized him. Maybe he didn't. Maybe it had been so trivial to the elf that he forgot it before Éomer was out of his sight.

It took them two days to reach Caras Galadon. Neither of them spoke often during the two days, the elf often acting angry if Éomer spoke to him.

He was introduced to Lord Celeborn, and again, he saw the beautiful Lady Galadriel. He was made welcome by them. He told them why he had come, and they promised to have Haldir at dinner so he could meet him, but he saw no new faces at the banquet table. He had seen them all this day in Caras Galadon.

"King Éomer has traveled alone from Edoras to bestow his thanks upon one of our company for his aid in the battle of Helm's Deep. Haldir, would you come and meet King Éomer?" Lord Celeborn said.

The silver haired elf from the border stood and came to the head table where the King of Rohan sat with the Lord and Lady. Éomer closed his eyes. No. Please don't let this elf be Haldir.

"This is Haldir. He volunteered to lead the elven archers to Helm's Deep." Lady Galadriel smiled at Éomer. She knew. Somehow she knew.

"We have met before, my Lady." Haldir said smoothly, his face giving away nothing.

Éomer nodded and smiled, though his face felt wooden. "I have come to offer you my personal thank you for your part at Helm's Deep and the thanks of all of Rohan. We owe you more than we can ever repay you."

Haldir bowed slightly. "Thank you, my Lord King." His voice was like the finest of velvets, and Éomer could remember how it had sounded years ago in the dark flet in the middle of the night.

The evening seemed to go on and on. Éomer smiled a lot, but he couldn't seem to recall anything anyone said after Haldir called him my Lord King. It was very late when the tales and songs ended. Galadriel had someone escort him to rooms. He was dead on feet. He didn't even remember getting undressed and falling into the bed. He did recall that there was someone there, someone who held him through the night.

He awoke in the morning with his head on a smooth, warm chest. He looked up into deep blue eyes.

"Good morning, my Lord." Haldir held him.

He stifled the urge to kiss the elf. His mind flooded with images of what had happened before.

"Good morning, Haldir. I never knew your name."

"I am sorry for the deception, but I had no idea how to tell you. I was not sure if you even remembered me."

Éomer laughed, a laugh not altogether free of bitterness. He rolled over onto his back.

"Men of Rohan do not...I mean...I had never even thought about it. I was ashamed of it, ashamed of wanting so...I have never wanted a woman like I wanted you, like I still do."

There, he had said it.

Haldir said, "When must you be back in Edoras?" He was propped up on his elbow looking down at the man.

"I have a few more days. I have good, loyal people who will see to everything until my return."

"Will you come to the forest with me for a few days, then?"

He had thought this the most horrid place outside Mordor, but suddenly, he wished he never had to leave it. He wished to stay here in the arms of this arrogant elf and ignore the rest of the world.

He looked up into those dark eyes and saw the same thing he thought was in his own. Loneliness and need.

Haldir's mouth came down on his. There was no sweetness in the kiss; instead, there was hunger, raw hunger, as the elf's tongue delved deeply, greedily into Éomer's mouth. Éomer found his arms going up and around Haldir's neck. He arched his body up against the elf. All he had known for a very long time was war. He was tired, weary to his very bones of fighting and killing.

Both of them slept in loose trousers and both reached at the same time to strip the other one. In minutes, they were naked and both straining against one another. Éomer groaned deep in his chest as Haldir caressed him, running his hand over the hair on his chest and then lower to the dark hair that trailed down his belly. He ran his fingers through the coarse curls and kissed Éomer yet again when his moans got louder. Haldir ran one finger up Éomer's shaft from base to tip. He gathered the sticky pre-come on his fingertip and licked it clean.

"Please..." He was already begging, and they'd not been touching for more than five minutes. No one had ever affected him like this elf did. He had always been proud of his self control, and it was a difficult thing to acknowledge that he had none at all as far as Haldir was concerned. Haldir smiled at him and moved down so he was lying near enough to taste Éomer now. The man turned onto his side and groaned when the elf licked his penis, lapping at it like a puppy.

"You are still quite nice for a man." Those blue eyes were teasing as he smiled up at Éomer. He took Éomer into his mouth with all the hunger that he had kissed him with, taking him so deep that his head butted against the elf's throat. Éomer groaned and pressed as deep as he could, needing the elf to give him his release. He grabbed a handful of silky silver blond hair and pulled Haldir closer still. He came hard, crying out Haldir's name, as the elf swallowed his pearly semen.

He lay still, not able to keep the shame at bay.

Haldir looked at him curiously.

"What troubles you, Éomer of Rohan?" He moved up so he was face to face with Éomer.

"This is not the way of my people. It is, in fact, forbidden among them. I feel shame for breaking the customs of my people. I am their king."

Haldir said nothing for a minute. His eyes searched Éomer's.

"So you tell yourself it was an enchantment, as you did the first time."

"If that would work, I would do it." Éomer smiled a rather sad smile

"What of love? Would they begrudge you love?"

A bitter laugh escaped the man. "Love? I don't think they would believe that lie."

Haldir closed his eyes and said, "What would you know of an elf's heart?"

Éomer couldn't answer. He wasn't even sure what he had just heard. Had Haldir just told him he loved him? Could this be possible? Why had he never said anything? Éomer had been a very young man when he'd wandered here before. He was young still, at least on the outside, but Haldir was the same, forever young and painfully beautiful here in his forest haven.

When Haldir opened his eyes, Éomer saw the pain of what it meant for an elf to love a mortal, short-lived human. He had no words that could console Haldir. He pulled the elf into his arms, kissing him.

Elves were considered dispassionate and perhaps even cold, but Éomer was about to find out what an elf's passion was. The kiss went from a warm sweet kiss to searing in seconds as Haldir took control. His tongue invaded Éomer's mouth, tasting, claiming him. He pressed Éomer back against he bed, his breathing already ragged and his arousal bumping the young king's hip. He then proceeded to set Éomer's body ablaze with kisses and touches that found every sensitive spot on the man's body and made new ones where there weren't any. Fingers and teeth teased nipples to tautness. The elf's tongue delved deeply enough into Éomer's navel the man was crying for him to stop and begging him not to.

Éomer was powerless under the elf's onslaught. No part of the front of his body was left untouched as he was turned onto his belly. He thought that Haldir would take him now, would end the sweet torment, but it was not to be. Instead, those torturously sweet hands and mouth worshipped the back side of his body, nipping the tender skin behind his knees, kissing a trail up his spine, finally slithering his tongue inside Éomer as he reached underneath him to take his hardened cock into his hand.

"Haldir." It was a plea, a prayer.

Haldir answered the prayer, turning Éomer back over to face him. He kissed him again with no less passion, no less intensity. He rose up on his knees between Éomer's legs and smiled down at him, there was none of the aloof, proud guardian in the smile. It was the look of a hungry animal, happy to at last find sustenance. There was nothing to ease his way so he spit in his hand and used his spit, mingled with his sticky pre-come to prepare the man.

Éomer didn't care. He would have welcomed the elf into him dry if he had to. Haldir lifted Éomer's ankles to his shoulders and positioned himself at his lover's opening. He pressed in slowly, but without pausing. The pain was not as bad as Éomer had feared and the pleasure was even more than he remembered as the elf found his prostate.

Haldir pressed him into mattress as he leaned down over the King of Rohan, bending his legs back up against his chest and penetrating even deeper. He began to move as he kissed Éomer, thrusting hard and deep, pulling out all the way and slamming back in. Éomer couldn't think, could barely breathe as he was taken, taken out of his mortal existence for one split second to glimpse eternity in the eyes of his lover. There was no word to describe what he felt, what he saw, as Haldir spoke to him in Elvish, the words sweeter than any he'd ever heard in human speech.

Tears fell on Éomer's face and fell from his eyes as they found completion together.

They lay quietly for awhile in the still of the early morning. Neither one of them said a word about what had just happened. There was little to say. Éomer slept for awhile and dreamed of his home. Haldir still held him when he awoke.

The two of them dressed and left for the elf's tree home after Éomer said his goodbyes to the Lord and Lady. Éomer stayed with Haldir for a week, seven days and seven nights that would be etched in his mind as long as he lived.

Feedback