Breath of Life | By : sharpeslass Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 5765 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
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. |
Breath of Life
NC-17 (for strong sexual content)
AU/PWP
Pairing: Boromir/Eowyn/Faramir
This story is completely cannon shattering, could never have
happened and has no redeeming value whatsoever. To make matters worse, it has a sappy ending. However it does have lots of Boromir,
Faramir and Smut. If these things
interest you, read on. If not, you have
been warned and I don’t want to hear about it later!
Disclaimer: Don’t own them.
Am abusing them… but not making any money. Etc.
I had been called the White Lady of Rohan, The Ice Maiden of
the Rohirrim. Now it seemed that these
titles would become quite literally true.
Watching the final embers of our tiny fire fade, I felt the
last feeling go out of my hands and feet, sensation stolen by the bitter
chill. The younger son of the Steward
of Gondor still massaged my icy appendages with his own as I huddled between
him and his brother, desperate for the fast-fading warmth of their bodies.
***
My uncle, my brother, my cousin and I had accompanied the
lords Faramir and Boromir. We were to
be their guests in the white city. It
had been a gesture on Denethor’s part to strengthen the ties of our people
against the coming darkness.
I had known on our first meeting that I might be expected to
marry one of these men some day. I had
known and had not been displeased. Both
were fair and stron fen feature and form.
Both had qualities to admire.
Boromir was a warrior of great renown. Faramir, though battle-tested and skilled in
arms, had the reputation of a scholar and a reader. Such skills are not admired among my people, yet it was to the
younger brother that I had found myself drawn.
Perhaps Boromir’s warrior nature had prohibited him from
speaking to me as an equal. The drink had warmed and burned, but the flask was long since
empty. The liquor’s power no longer
affected a warming in my limbs but still served to slightly dull my mind.
Perhaps this is an explanation for what was to come… but I
had been drinking the sweet strong mead of Rohan since childhood. I think drunkenness cannot be my
excuse. An instinct for survival is a
more likely alibi. Yet it still rings
false to my own mind.
It will be left to no one else to judge. For if they are truly men of honor, as they
say and as I believe in spite of what took place between us, none save I will
tell this tale.
***
When it began exactly, I cannot say. We were all freezing slowly to death. I think it was Boromir who began it.
“We would be warmer, little brother, were we flesh to
flesh.” He spoke over my head to the
other man.
“Boromir,” Faramir spoke through the chill, in weak
despairing protest.
“What?” the older brother countered in harsh mocking
tones. “Shall we all die to protect a
maiden’s modesty?”
My mistake was not in modesty. It was again in imagining myself one among equals.
I am not a man, nor do I wish to be one. Though I did wish to be a warrior, and
Boromir’s comment stung my pride.
It is a common knowledge among those who must survive against
the elements that more heat is generated by bodies pressed naked together than
those separated by clothing. And so, on
top of our combined cloaks, we stripped down and laid the discarded clothing
atop us for what warmth it might yield.
Never had I felt the truth of my gender more keenly. It was a shocking moment to find myself so
pressed, skin to skin, against these two men to whom I had wanted to prove
myself a comrade and equal. Moreover, I
had wanted not to be the cause of their twin deaths.
Faramir would not meet my eyes as we huddled close. I faced him, with his brother pressed close
behind. Faramir’s touch was tentative
until I pulled him near to warm his cold skin.
Boromir had no such reservations. He pressed his flesh to my
own as soon as we were bare.
Long moments passed before our shivering stopped, but stop
it did.
There was now ample heat generatingng ung us. Would it have been the same had we been
three soldiers stranded together in the freezing cold? I doubted it, and doubt it still.
Both men were evidently aroused, though one took pains to
hide it. The other did not. Faramir separated me from that one part of
him with his tunic. Boromir’s shaft
was hard and hot against my backside almost immediately.
Forgive me, but at first all I could think was that it was warm. I may have given him encouragement by
pressing back toward him. In doing so I
did not abandon his younger brother but pulled him toward me, pushing the shirt
he’d worn out of my way.
I could hide what they could not, but believe me when I say
that at that moment my flesh was urging my mind to abandon all reason.
The two brothers were hard against me their arms encircling
my body, both a shelter and a threat. I
held Faramir close, but the young man would not meet my gaze. Long agonizing moments we stayed as such,
unmoving beneath the blanket of our cloaks and clothing.
Then I felt Boromir’s hot breath on my ear as he began to
slowly move his body against mine, his hard flesh stroking my lower back as he
rubbed his length along my skin. My
breath hitched in my throat and Faramir’s eyes flew to mine, widening slightly
as his brother’s motions caused the tender flesh of my abdomen to press again
and again against his own erection.
“Boromir,.” he protested again. His eyes never left mine, but he winced slightly when his hips
jerked seemingly involuntarily against my own. I felt my face flush with a
mixture of anger, embarrassment and a curiously demanding sense of need.
“The lady does not mind it.” Boromir answered softly, not ceasing his movements. But there was a question behind his words.
He gently grasped my shoulder and pressed me down so that I lay on my back
between the two men. He propped himself
on an elbow and looked down at me with hungry eyes. “We will doubtless be dead by morning,” he continued, talking to
his brother but never taking his eyes from mine. “To die without knowing one last taste of a woman’s love… She
will not sentence us to such a fate.”
For a moment a flash of anger eclipsed my other emotions, I
struggled to rise, but found Boromir’s strong hand and the tangle of heavy
cloaks impeding my movements. My anger
warred briefly with a rising panic… and won.
“How dare you?” I
snapped up at him. “I am no foolish
peasant girl to be wooed by such words.”
My own brother and cousin had won their way into many beds using those
same sentiments before battle. I had
felt only scorn for those silly giddy girls, so ready to be used and tossed
aside.
As I spoke Faramir reached across my struggling body and
gently removed his brother’s hand from my shoulder. Boromir raised the offending hand in a gesture of surrender. I managed to sit but the frigid air stole my
breath and my anger as it broke into the warm cave we had created with the heat
of our bodies. I lay back with a gasp
and both men instinctively pressed close to recapture the escaped heat.
Boromir gave no quarter.
His lips were immediately upon my own as his free hand aggressively
caressed the flesh of my torso, grasping my rib cage and moving relentlessly
over my stomach. His hand closed upon
my breast and my earlier protests were rendered meaningless by the instant
response of my body.
One of my arms was trapped under Boromir’s weight. The other tightened instinctively about his
brother and my fingers grasped frantically at the tmuscmuscles of Faramir’s
naked back.
Boromir removed his mouth from my own. Panting and beside myself with unfamiliar
sensation I shot a pleading look at Faramir.
In spite of his reticence he read the message in my eyes well enough,
though it was not the message I had sought to convey.
His own mouth closed upon mine, in a kiss more tender, but
no less searing. Twin hands now
caressed my skin, coaxing my body into a betrayal I’d never imagined. Two mens’ fingers now probed a place that
had felt no man’s touch, both finding me wet and wanting.
Their lips seemed to be somehow everywhere at once. I kissed one on the mouth as another tawny
head bent to kiss and nip at my breasts.
Their mouths warmed my skin as their hands set a fire inside my
body. I moaned into their kisses as
their fingers worked with skill and insistence upon and within me. I could not tell where one man’s hand left
off and the other began.
When I thought I would go mad from the shame and pleasure of
their dual caresses Boromir moved his calloused hand from my flesh and shifted
to move over me.
I felt a panic rising in me, but again Faramir interceded,
staying Boromir with the light pressure of his own hand upon his brother’s
shoulder.
“A moment, brother,” he murmured.
Boromir lay back on his side, breathing heavily. His arm moved slightly beneath our blankets
as he stroked his own flesh and waited, still looking at me the way a beast of
prey might study its lunch.
I was frightened. I
felt like a rabbit between two starving wolves. But I was a rabbit who had baited its own trap, using its own
flesh as a lure, and orchestrated its own destruction.
Faramir gently caressed my hair as he searched my face,
reading my fear. “Are you yet a
maiden?” he asked me softly. The
expression of tenderness in his blue eyes held the frightened rabbit a willing
captive. I couldn’t speak and only
nodded in response.
They were two and I was one and I could not, as yet, read
them both, but a look passed between the brothers and they seemed to reach an
unspoken accord. Boromir simply nodded
at Faramir.
Faramir slid himself slowly lower under our coverings stroking
the length of my body with his kisses and caresses. I looked to Boromir as
Faramir’s kisses branded my hipbones and thighs. I sought for a sign that I could trust this eldest son of Gondor
and found in his eyes no such reassurance.
In them I saw only pride and passion.
He knew ouldould have me and I could do nothing to prove wro wrong.
A protest rose to my lips and was cut off by my gasp of
shocked surprise as I felt Faramir’s soft lips close upon the most sensitive
part of me. Boromir in turn studied my
reaction. His scrutiny intensified as
Faramir’s tongue and teeth tore more involuntary sounds from deep in my
throat. The elder brother then took my
hand from where it had tangled (how had that happened?) in Faramir’s hair and
led it to his own throbbing flesh.
Boromir moaned, a low dangerous sound, as my fingers closed
about his thick length.
His mouth claimed mine, once again, the short hair of his
beard chafing against the skin of my face as the stubble on Faramir’s own chin
tortured me into ecstasy.
“Do you like what my little brother is doing to you my
lady?” Boromir whispered wickedly
between his deep kisses. I could not
breathe to answer him, but the answer was all too obvious. Faramir’s thrusting te ane and warm lips
soon caused a chain of convulsions to rack my traitorous body. I cried out uncontrollably into Boromir’s
mouth and he seemed to feed on my moans and cries, drinking them in as he
thrust hard and fast into my tightening grip.
Faramir rose quickly following my climax, wiping his mouth
with the back of his hand. His once
gentle eyes were now somewhat wispanspan style="mso-spacerun: yes"> As
he lay atop me, his hardness pressed against my entry, he seemed, as I was, to
be fighting for breath and sanity.
I lay like a creature stunned. My passionate response had surprised me and my body had not yet
recovered.
“Do you give leave for this, my lady?” he asked raggedly.
“Yes.” Before my
answer was fully uttered, Faramir entered me with a mighty thrust. A sharp pain ripped through me,
“Forgive me Eowyn,” he rasped, his eyes shut and his head
thrown back.
Through the shock and a blur of quick tears I recognized
that he was beautiful. He filled me completely.
He opened his eyes again fixing my gaze as he moved within
me. He wiped away my startled tears and whispered my name as his gentle but
insistent thrusts rocked my body.
The initial pain dimmed and was replaced by a sense of
fullness and of growing pleasure.
Boromir’s eyes were on me as well and my hand still moved upon him. But at this moment I was nearly unaware of
him. It was over all too quickly.
“Eowyn!” With a
jagged cry Faramir emptied himself into my still trembling body.
I think he would have lingered within and atop me. His look promised it. But I could see that this modest man
believed he’d already taken more than was his due, both from me and from his
brother. He moved off of me and Boromir
quickly took his place.
I gave a small cry of dismay and Faramir captured my hand in
his. I clenched it tightly as his
brother (who did not ask for leave) pushed into me.
Again my body betrayed me.
While it had moments ago promised itself to respond only to the touch of
the younger son, it now bucked and rose to the bidding of the eldest. Boromir’s touch was less gentle, but no less
skilled. Rising to his knees, now quite
heedless of the cold, he grasped my hips in his hands and took me more deeply,
so that the head of his shaft stabbed against my very womb.
I cried out in both pain and pleasure, ever aware of
Faramir’s hand gripping my own. Though
Bor’s r’s eyes were shut, I noted the concerned and contrite expression in
Faramir’s own.
Even if he did not, I realized the futility of guilt this
far into the venture. I cast my own
beaten and bloodied sense of propriety into the void and allowed the rhythmic
pumping of Boromir of Gondor within my body to bring me to a shattering
climax.
He came with a grunt soon after and let himself collapse on
top of me.
Boromir was the one who could not meet my eyes as he rolled
to my side. I moved into Faramir’s
embrace and the three of us huddled together, warm and breathing heavily, for
several long minutes. I know not what might have
happened next, for we heard clearly through the wind a voice calling from
without. We all three reacted with a
mixture of panic and relief. Faramir
scrambled to throw my clothing at me as Boromir struggled into his own
breeches. None of us was foolish enough
to stay silent. We called out to our
rescuers as we hurried into some semblance of propriety. We almost achieved it.
My own brother was first through the cave entrance, and upon
seeing me he held up a hand, staying his unseen companions. Eomer took in the scene before him; his
sister, now dressed but disheveled, Faramir in breeches and undertunic, and
Boromir still struggling to pull his shirt over his naked chest. His eyes narrowed.
“What is this, Eowyn?” he commanded. “Have you come to harm?” At his words his
hand fell to the hilt of his sword. I
rushed to his side.
“No, Eomer,” I stammered.
“I am well. Their clothes became wet and they sought to dry them…” I
waved a hand at the ashes of our long dead fire. The suspicion did not leave my brother’s eyes. Faramir, now fully dressed, approached us
and received the full force of my brother’s glare. He did not quail.
“If your sister’s honor has been offended, Marshal of the
Mark, then that offense shall quickly be repaired,” he said softly. “I ask that your family give me leave to
marry the lady Eowyn.” Eomer’s eyes
stayed locked with Faramir’s.
“Is this your wish, sister?” he asked.
“It is,” I answered, moving to place my hand in
Faramir’s. Questions evidently remained
in Eomer’s mind. But it was a good
offer, and well he knew it. He knew me
as well and also realized that I would not enter into a match not to my
liking. Nor would it be in my nature to
leave an offense against my person unavenged.
For these reasons he was forced to bide by my decision. With effort, he forced a more congenial
tone.
“The king will be pleased,” he said gruffly. Surveying our party anew and seeing us all
now in a presentable state he called his men inside. They brought cloaks, blankets and fortifying liquor. After a short time we were ready to
depart. Boromir approached Faramir as
we left our small shelter for the last time.
“I may hope there is no ill feeling between us little
brother,” he said seriously.
“None,” came the sincere reply.
“And of the Lady?” Boromir turned to me. I shook my head.
“You will be as a brother to me, my lord Boromir.” He took my hand and lifted it to his
lips. Faramir shifted slightly but made
no move to stop his brother as he kissed the back of my hand.
“It never happened,” Boromir promised. “It is forgotten.” But in his eyes I saw a
different promise. A promise that he
would never forget.
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