Welcome to Dragon & Tiger

Title & Chapter Number: Fealty 1/1
Fandom: Middle Earth
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: Middle Earth and the characters that live therein are not mine. Original characters (Rhiannon, Sheldain, Edlyn, and Aland) ARE mine. Not making any money, just doing this to amuse myself, and hopefully others.
Special Warning: Het Sex, Wanking, Some Angst, Slashy and Incestual thoughts.
Beta: None
Cast: Théodred/OFC, Éomer, Éowyn
Timeline: Pre-FOTR AU, Third Age 3012 (7 years before LOTR)
Spoiler: Not really, since this never happened
Summary: Summary: Théodred made me do it. I had another dream, and this is what I made of it.
Notes:1. I have seriously messed with the timeline. Théodred was born in 2978, I have changed it to 2988, making him 24. Éowyn was born in 2995 making her 17, and Éomer was born in 2991, making him 21 (he became the Third Marshal of the Riddermark at 26). The king fell ill in 3014. The events of TTT happen in TA, 3019.
2. Tonight's cast will consist of some familiar players, Miranda Otto as Éowyn, Karl Urban as Éomer, Bernard Hill as Théoden, and introducing Danielle Cormack as Rhiannon, and Kevin Smith as Théodred. I know it's a departure, especially as the Rohirrim were all supposed to be blonde haired and blue eyed, but this is how Théodred came to me, so who am I to argue? Think Iphicles with a goatee.
3. Howard Shore's phenomenal soundtracks (especially TTT track #16, Forth Eorlingas) was a great inspiration to me during the writing of this fic, as was The Corrs 'Leave Me Breathless'. In fact, the working title of this piece was "Breathless".
4. Eorling: Singular of Eorlingas; A name taken by the Rohirrim (singular: Rohir) (which is the Elvish word for the Eorlingas) in their own tongue, signifying the followers and kin of Eorl the Young. See The Encyclopedia of Arda for more http://www.glyphweb.com/arda/

The fidelity owed by a vassal to his feudal lord.
The oath of such fidelity.
Faithfulness; allegiance, fidelity



Éomer rode out at sunrise. The day had dawned crisp and bright, with the promise of spring in the air. He should find Théodred returning, only half a day out of Edoras, but he could no longer restrain his enthusiasm.

Éomer had pitied his cousin, damned to marry someone, probably hideous, with powerful political and social connections. She'd arrived two weeks ago, the day after Théodred had left on patrol (Théodred had insisted that he would not shirk his duties for some affair of state that he had no say in anyhow), but after meeting Rhiannon, Éomer found her quite captivating. Sweet but tough, intelligent and funny, now he was sorry she had been promised to his cousin. The outward resemblance between Rhiannon and his sister was negligible, but they had the same proud stance, held themselves with the same confident air, moved with the same Shield Maidens' grace.

Éomer sighed. Rhiannon's laughing face danced before his mind's eye, her rosy-blonde curls and uncommon golden-green eyes haunted him, her fine features and dainty curves taunted him. Secretly, Éomer thought it a shame to waste such a bright young spirit on his older, sometimes dour cousin, but Éowyn had made sure that he had had no chance seduce her.

When they met, Éomer could tell that Théodred was not looking forward to returning to Edoras. This was the day he was to meet the woman whom his father had decided he should wed. He had managed to avoid the subject of marriage and heirs for some time, but his father and fate had conspired against him, and he was trapped like a rabbit in a snare. Trepidation hung over him like a shadow.

Riding with Théodred at the head of the company, Éomer did his best to cheer his cousin, relating events of the last two weeks, during Théodred's absence while on patrol, then easing into discussion of Théodred's impending nuptials with humor. Théodred's favorite mare had foaled at dawn on the morning Rhiannon had arrived, a favorable omen sent by the Mearas.

"A beauty," Éomer mused, baiting his cousin, "the color of the morning sun."

Théodred glanced sideways at his cousin, "The foal or the woman?"

"Both!" Éomer laughed. "If they hadn't been promised to you, cousin, I would have claimed the foal for my own and taken the woman to my bed!"

Théodred laughed a touch uneasily, but his ill-humor was lifted.

When they were in sight of Edoras, Éomer challenged Théodred to a race in an attempt to distract him from his perceived doom.



Théodred and Éomer thundered through the gates of Edoras and pulled their horses up in a cloud of dust. They dismounted and very nearly disintegrated into a wrestling match but for a disapproving look from Éowyn, who stood above them on a stair with Rhiannon.

Rhiannon rolled her eyes. Éowyn had warned her about the antics of her brother and cousin.

Thoroughly filthy, the boys handed their horses off to waiting grooms and angled toward the women, all wide grins and juvenile good humor, jostling for the right to approach first. Rhiannon stood behind and a step above Éowyn, trying to be unamused by their horseplay. She realized that she was being bitter about her predicament, and was having a hard time not being caught up in the boys' high spirits.

Éomer arrived at the bottom of the stair first, unceremoniously embracing his sister in one of his accustomed bear hugs. Rhiannon worried momentarily about being crushed by the man, but Éowyn took control of the situation as soon as she could contrive to be released. "Brother, unhand me and allow me to introduce your cousin properly!" she swatted him on the shoulder.

Théodred had the sense to look properly abashed at his cousins' demonstration, shuffling his feet in apprehension.

Released, Éowyn, still standing on the last step, smoothed her dress and ruffled Éomer's grungy hair. Having regained her poise, but for a wide adoring grin, she turned to Rhiannon and proceeded to introduce her errant relations. "You are familiar with my brother," she said, indicating the grinning Eorling.  

Éomer took Rhiannon's hand and bowed over it, brushing her knuckles with a light, gentlemanly kiss, "My Lady." He looked up at her from beneath his brows with a decidedly ungentlemanly twinkle in his eye, "The time spent away from your radiance was spent in darkness."

Rhiannon had the decency to blush.

'The Cad,' Éowyn thought, she knew what was on his mind. She hoped that she could continue to keep Éomer, who was irresistible to most women, away from Rhiannon. If she didn't, Théodred would be hard pressed to keep her interest.

"Lady Rhiannon of the Eastfold, may I present my kin, Théodred, Second Marshal of the Riddermark, son of Théoden King, heir to the throne of Rohan," Éowyn named him with his titles in the traditional way.

All Théodred's uncertainty, his doubt, his apprehension, his insecurity, was gone in that instant. It was animal, chemical, spiritual. The foal should have been his first hint. Such a favorable omen could not be ignored. Éomer had been correct, she radiated like the morning sun, and her shy, uncertain smile lit up her features like dawn over the Mark.

Rhiannon curtsied deeply. Éomer was shouldered aside as Théodred bowed low over Rhiannon's hand and kissed it. "My Lady, it is my profound pleasure to meet you." His voice shook a little. He was nervous, taking comfort in formality. He was not about to let his cousin get the better of him.

"Indeed it is. We are at your service, anything you require, you have but to ask," Éomer interrupted with a wide mischievous grin.

Théodred cut in, "Anything, anytime of day or night - " He stopped suddenly and blushed at the unintended implication.

Éomer cunningly took advantage of his cousin's discomposure. "Lady Rhiannon, the sun pales in your presence; the stars fell down to sparkle in your eyes; the wind blows only to lift your hair; the moon... "

"Éomer, stop! You embarrass our guest and are discourteous to our cousin. Go clean up and we will see you at supper." Éowyn shooed her brother and cousin away. "Go."

But Théodred still held Rhiannon's hand. His eyes had never left her face. He knew the moment he'd looked into her eyes that he was lost.

"My lady, will you do me the honor of granting me the pleasure your company at my table this even'?"  The formal invitation was completely unnecessary, as her social position and the purpose of her visit had already afforded her a seat at the high table; however it was only the familiar turn of phrase that eased Théodred's enough to speak it.

"Of course, My Lord," Rhiannon replied and curtsied deeply again. He was utterly charming. A skilled warrior and an exceptional horseman, but he still took childlike joy in life, sporting and competing with his cousin. Yet there was something lurking behind his smile, a lost little boy begging to be found.



Supper was more like a banquet than a simple family meal. The Prince's return and the presence of their esteemed guests gave Théoden an excuse for a small celebration.

At the 'High' side of the table, Théoden and Rhiannon's father, Sheldain, had the temerity to look smug. They were already planning the wedding for the Spring Equinox, only a fortnight away.

Sheldain, a major landholder and breeder of champion racing horses in the Eastfold, had begun to despair of ever marrying off his only daughter. Her younger brothers had long since married and given him grandchildren. Instead of being concerned over finding a mate, Rhiannon had spent her days devising a breeding program, gentling young horses, and learning to defend herself. When Théoden had approached Sheldain he had been overjoyed. Not so, his daughter. Most women of The Mark had the right to choose their own intended, but the royal and ranking families often held longer to the old ways.

Rhiannon had been quite distraught when she had first arrived. Éowyn had much sympathy for Rhiannon; she too had lost her mother when she was young. They had both been expected to be independent when their mothers died, only now Rhiannon was expected to forgo that independence to wed a man she had never met. Éowyn couldn't imagine being forced to marry someone not of her own choosing. Perhaps it was better that Rhiannon had had a chance to settle in a bit before she met Théodred. One upheaval at a time, and if she could handle Éomer, Théodred would be easy.

Théodred was usually shy around women. Unlike Éomer, he had never developed the ease with the fairer sex that his energetic blonde cousin possessed. However, he and Rhiannon seemed in a world of their own, whispering and laughing at private jokes while completely ignoring the rest of the gathering.

Éomer had often taken pity on Théodred, seducing handmaidens and serving girls and steering them towards his bed. He flatly rejected women who were interested in him only because he was heir to the throne. Rhiannon was the first woman he had any interest in aside from relieving the needs of his manhood.

On the opposite side of the circular table, Éomer ignored the politics of the evening and flirted unscrupulously with Edlyn, one of the handmaidens who had accompanied Sheldain and Rhiannon from their home. From his high color, Éomer suspected that Théodred had been bolstering his confidence with copious amounts of alcohol.

Éowyn was pleased that the Théodred and Rhiannon were indeed getting along as well - better even - than she had hoped. Éowyn loved Théodred just as she loved Éomer, and would have only the best for him.

Dinner progressed through the courses, finally finishing with a pastry delicacy reserved for special occasions. Eventually the tables were cleared and pushed aside. The guests mingled, chatting, and smoking while stewards circulated serving mulled wine.

Théodred looked pained, trapped in conversation with Théoden and Sheldain, while Éowyn was being grilled by Edlyn, who wanted to know everything about Éomer.

Éomer disentangled himself from the gaggle of women that had formed around him and sidled up to Rhiannon, who was standing alone, looking somewhat lost. Éowyn would blister his ears, but it may be the only chance he had to get to know to Rhiannon before she wed Théodred. "So, Lady Rhiannon, how like you the hospitality of Meduseld?"

"Your hospitality pleases me very much Lord Éomer. I have but one complaint," she cocked an eyebrow up at Éomer, who looked stricken, "that your Lady Sister has kept me from enjoying your company."

Éomer laughed, sensing a future conspirator was at hand. "Walk with me? The air grows uncomfortably thick." He offered Rhiannon his arm. "Let us go to see the colt, he grows quickly, he will be swift as the wind."

Rhiannon took the proffered arm graciously and they exited the Golden Hall.

Théodred cast his gaze about for Rhiannon, praying to the Gods to save him from their fathers. He caught a glimpse of his betrothed across the room just as she exited the hall on the arm of his cousin. Théodred was incensed. He downed his goblet of wine in one gulp and excused himself brusquely. He pushed through the crowd, which seemed to solidify directly in front of him. He charged from the hall and ran down the stairs, just in time to catch a glimpse of the pair entering the barns.

"Théodred has named him Aland, it means 'bright as the sun'," Éomer told Rhiannon as they leaned on the stall door, peering over it to admire the nursing colt. Even in the flickering torchlight, Aland's coat did indeed seem to shine as brightly as the day-star. He would likely be made a wedding gift to Rhiannon.

"He is beautiful," Rhiannon said, lost in her own thoughts. Turning to Éomer she asked, "Éomer, Théodred, he... who is he?"

Éomer turned to her in surprise. "He is Théodred. Nothing more, nothing less." He paused for a moment. "He is a good man. He loves his land, his people, and his family. He needs someone with a good heart to love him," he looked meaningfully into Rhiannon's eyes and smiled. "He is a lucky man," he finished, and brushed a loose curl from her cheek, just as Théodred stormed into the stable.

"ÉOMER!" Théodred's voice boomed in the enclosed space of the brood barn, the mares whinnied and a few kicked at the walls of their stalls.

Rhiannon jumped at the noise and spun around.

"Cousin!" Éomer called, "Come see the foal!"

"I have seen all I need to see. Remove yourself from the presence of my lady," Théodred growled.

Rhiannon's eyebrows rose at his use of the phrase "my lady", with the emphasis on 'my'.

"Théodred, calm yourself," Éomer raised his hands in what he hoped was a comforting manner, maneuvering himself in front of Rhiannon.

Before Éomer could speak again, Théodred charged, nearly catching Éomer off guard.

Éomer danced away, careful to keep himself between Rhiannon and his alcohol-befuddled cousin.

Théodred turned and swung at Éomer, roaring in frustration.

Éomer ducked in time to avoid the blow, but was thrown off balance. He rolled out of the way and came to his feet behind Théodred to encircle him about his shoulders in a restraining grip.

Théodred struggled, but Éomer, though younger and lighter, had always been able to best him in wrestling, especially when Théodred was drunk

"Éomer, please do not hurt him."

"Lady Rhiannon, leave this place, there is no need for you to witness this fracas," Éomer called to her.

Rhiannon paused to glance back once with a pained look, and fled back to the hall to find Éowyn; perhaps she could sort out her kin.

Éowyn met Éomer halfway between the Hall and the Stables. "Éomer! What has happened? Where is Théodred?"

"Gone to soak his head I presume. He is as drunk as a treasure-mad dwarf. I have not harmed him, I merely subdued him. Is Rhiannon alright?"

"She is fine, and duly concerned for your safety I might add. I've sent her back to her rooms. Why do you two always feel the need to compete so?"



Théodred stumbled back to his suite and struggled out of his clothing, with only the moonlight streaming in his windows for illumination.

Rhiannon had been kind, not condescending or patronizing him and his clumsy attempts at romance during dinner. He reddened again even in the cool, dark seclusion of his room. She would never speak to him again, much less marry him. What had he been thinking? She was here only because her father and his had commanded it.

He'd made a buffoon of himself. He was an idiot to think that she would have him. She was merely being polite, laughing at his inebriated jests and anecdotes. Éomer would win the day, again.

His skin was burning; from lust, from embarrassment, and from alcohol.

An unlit candle and a carafe of wine sat on his table. Naked, he sat down and tried to pour himself a goblet with shaking hands. He gave up and drank from the bottle, attempting to drown his agony. He wondered if Éomer had ever made such a fool of himself. Of course not, he chided himself, Éomer was always confident and sure.

Rhiannon was so much like Éowyn. Théodred had harbored a secret lust for his cousin for years. He had managed to sublimate that desire for a long time; it only came to the surface now that he had been reminded of it. He would marry no woman that was not of Éowyn's caliber.

His manhood throbbed painfully, adding to his shame. He began to stroke himself roughly, punishing himself for his inappropriate thoughts. He felt hot tears build behind his eyes even as pressure built in his loins.

He was unfit to be King; perhaps he should abdicate, forfeit his birthright and let his younger cousin ascend to the throne. Éomer was infinitely more qualified to rule. He was confident, competent, kind, empathetic, everything that a king should be, everything that he was not. He loved him as he would a blood brother, and more.

His hand moved faster on his erection, imagining taking one blonde cousin beneath him and the other behind, taking him.

He begged the Gods to end his torment. He climaxed with a muffled, anguished shout. Tears spilled down his face, mixing with semen on his chest and stomach.

Utterly humiliated by his weakness, he wiped his face, hands and body on his discarded shirt.

A gentle knock on the door echoed in the sudden quiet.

Éomer, wondering what had become of him, or more probably Éowyn, come to ask him what the hell was wrong with him. He didn't know which was worse. "Go away," he groaned.

A stronger knock. He considered opening the door, but when he tried to rise, he quickly realized that his head was spinning. "Enter," he called. He hadn't bothered to lock the door, assuming no one would want to see him.

The door creaked slowly open. Rhiannon peered cautiously around the jam. "Théodred? Are you well?"

Until this moment, Théodred had been convinced that his life could not get any worse. To have the very person whom longing had caused him to make a fool of himself in front of, come to him in the midst of his despair, it was too much.

Rhiannon entered tentatively and saw the glimmer of wetness in his eyes, distracting her from his state of complete undress.

Abject misery consumed him. He couldn't even wallow in self pity properly.

Rhiannon's heart broke. She closed the door behind her and set her candle on the table. "Théodred, why do you weep?"

His voice caught in his throat, he shook his head. He could not bear to have her pity him.

"Théodred - " Rhiannon pointedly ignored his nakedness to reach out and take his face in her hands. "Théodred, please look at me."

He could not. "Rhiannon," he begged, "leave me; I would not have you see me thus."

"I will not." Rhiannon put much force and conviction into her words.

Incredulous, Théodred lifted his head to look into her eyes, "Do you not hate me? Are you not repulsed by me?"

"Nay, Théodred," Rhiannon stroked the tears from his cheeks with her thumbs. "I love you."

Théodred was aghast, his heart swelled nearly out of his chest. "You love me?"

"From the moment I first saw you, all dirty and unkempt," Rhiannon smiled. She embraced Théodred tightly, pressing his head to her breast.

Théodred wrapped his arms around her waist, "I am unworthy of you. Rhiannon... "

Rhiannon loosened her hold and tilted Théodred's face up to look in his eyes. "Shhhh," she whispered, and leaned down to brush his lips with hers. "Do not speak, we need not words." She lowered her mouth to his again, and this time ran her tongue along his lower lip.

He pulled her onto his lap, held her against his bare chest, her arms wrapped around his neck. "Stay with me," Théodred whispered into her hair. "Please, my love, I cannot bear to be parted from you this night." He embraced Rhiannon tightly, tears coming again to wet her hair.

"I will stay," Rhiannon said, then rose from Théodred's lap.

He was lost; the warmth she left on his skin was like a ghost.

Rhiannon unlaced her bodice and slipped her chemise from her shoulders. Her dress fell in a pool about her feet.

Théodred watched in rapt awe as inch by inch her flesh was exposed. "Rhiannon, no, this is not what I wished - " but his body betrayed him, his lust stirring again.

"It is what I wish," she said, mounting him, straddling his legs and placing her hands on his shoulders.

Théodred moved one of his hands to his arousal as Rhiannon maneuvered herself onto him. With the tip of his member positioned at her hot, wet opening, he put his hands on her hips and drew her to him, entering her slowly, impaling her completely. Rhiannon moaned against Théodred's mouth as he kissed her passionately. He wrapped his arms around her, stroking her back through her hair, clinging to her as a man saved from drowning.

Rhiannon rocked on Théodred, arched her back threw back her head. Théodred suckled at her breasts, kissed her neck and rolled his hips with each of her thrusts.  

Théodred moved his hands to her buttocks, shifted his hips to the edge of the chair and stood, lifting her with him. Rhiannon wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, pulling him into her deeply. He pressed her against the wall, supporting her weight with one arm under her, and his own weight with the other hand against the wall.

Pinned there, neither noticed the tapestry behind Rhiannon that wove the story of the bonding of Théodred's father and Elfhild, Théodred's mother who had died in childbirth, whom he never knew.

Théodred's fingers curled into a fist around a handful of the tapestry as he bucked powerfully into Rhiannon, causing her to moan and whimper with pleasure. Rhiannon tangled her fingers in Théodred's long hair, dark, but prematurely peppered with gray. He covered her mouth with his, his goatee tickling her, his tongue twisting with hers in time with his thrusts.

Rhiannon stiffened, breaking the kiss. "My King!" she cried, squeezing him within her as she was swept away by waves of passion. He climaxed within her, riding the crest of sensation. She nuzzled into his neck as he leaned against the wall with trembling knees, covering her shoulder with soft, sweet kisses.

When he had mastered his breathing and trusted his legs to support them, he moved to the bed, knelt, and lowered her gently. He hovered over her, looking into her eyes for a moment before he lay down next to her. "My Queen," he whispered into her ear, curling his body around hers. He finally felt complete, having never realized that he was not.