The rider of Rohan.

BY : Indy
Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 2451
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Éomer was drunk. Very drunk. He knew that was the point of this entire evening, but after a couple of hours of being treated to strange tasting mead by ragged men he barely knew, he just hoped it would be over soon.
When he got up, the world floated and he couldn’t feel his legs anymore. But that didn’t disturb him. He yelled to the general audience: “Can’t we just get this over with?”
That statement seemed to impress them he was drunk beyond human reason, because all the men rose and dragged him out with them, in the fresh night air.

He had a vague idea of what was coming. He had heard whispers about what turned a boy into a warrior. He had heard about the drinking, he had seen shy boys emerging after their night, blushing, but receiving pats on the shoulder from the men, being treated as an equal. He had been looking forward to this, and when he had been riding this morning, a couple of men approached him. He had seen them before; they were the most experienced riders of Rohan. Some of them helped him practicing with the sword, taught him how to ride a horse. But never had they seemed so impressing, together, as a small army. As soon as he saw them he knew what was about to happen. His heart had been beating loudly all day, his hands shaking. What would they want him to do? Surely they had seen his bravery in the many lessons he received every day, he knew for sure there were some riders he could overtake if the test was fighting. But then again, none of those boys he had seen after their test carried scars or bruises.

When the men headed towards the stables, his suspicion of having to fight arose again. The disturbing part was that some of them walked very close to him, holding his arms, somebody stroking his back, he even felt a strong hand waver in the area of his buttocks before his attention was turned away by the sound of a horse. Shadowfax! They had taken Shadowfax out of his royal stable. He had never been allowed to touch the animal, let alone ride it before. The horse, unsaddled, appeared like a ghost out in the moonlight.

He was looking in apprehension, and a little bit of fear, when the presence of the men around him became overwhelming again. The hand that had been teasing around his buttocks suddenly moved to the small of his back, and around his waist, undoing his trousers. He wanted to turn around to at least see the person, but he was held by too many people to distinguish one from the other. Another pair of hands started to unbutton his tunic, throwing it somewhere on the ground. Rough hands started tracing over his body, he could feel their callused fingers and palms over his soft skin. Without wanting to, he could feel his body respond. He bit his lip, until he just knew this was going to far.

“What am I supposed to do? What?” he yelled. The men dispersed, leaving him to stand by himself again. A part of him deeply felt the absence of those strong hands.

Shadowfax? At any other time he would have loved to, but…
“Like this?” he asked, meaning his nakedness, but instead bringing the attention to his aroused penis. He could feel some smiles, but certainly no chuckles. They were serious about this.

He just sighed, walked the steps that steps that separated him from the majestic horse, and hauled himself up to it’s back slowly. Almost immediately he had forgotten about his nakedness. The animal felt so lively under him, so ethereal, so beautiful. He didn’t even speak; the animal seemed to feel his thoughts and started a heavy gallop, right to the plains of Rohan.
His first reflex was to hold on, but it felt like he was attached to the animal. He could feel the wind rushing over his face, dispersing his hair, the moon on his back, and the grass rushing under him, going faster and faster.

And it felt like it was no longer him and the horse, they were together, his legs were gone, hoofs now, and he ran, he ran into the night…

For the first time he thought back to the strange tasting mead, and he wondered if he had been drugged. But it was only a fleeing thought, he didn’t really care, he had never felt like this before.

His body seemed so much more alive than it ever had been, he could feel every gust of wind in his lunges, every beat of his heart, every muscle moving under him.

Suddenly he became very aware of his erection, moving under him at the rhythm of the strides Shadowfax made, and it hypnotized him.
All he could see was his own member, and Shadowfax’s white skin under it, his muscles, moving and moving, the moon lighting it all, and he uttered a small moan.

This only seemed to encourage the animal to go faster, and faster, he squeezed his legs around Shadowfax’s back, feeling his throbbing penis coming closer and closer with every stride.

He breathed in, looked up at the moon and screamed.
Shadowfax picked up on his scream and ran, harder and harder.

The friction brought him close to the brink; he looked down and felt his entire body spasm, the release exploding through every part of him.
He moaned to the moon, and finally Shadowfax slowed down, to a stop.

When he let himself slip off, he could see the horse’s member slowly softening back to it’s natural state and he smiled.

They were close to the hall, and when he walked back he could see the men waiting for him. One of them gave him something lese to drink. After a couple more steps his legs gave out on him and they carried him back home.

Éomer never rode Shadowfax again, but he went with many young lads for their initiation. A couple years later Shadowfax left the stables of Rohan, and it was said he became the favourite horse of Gandalf the Grey.

The end

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