Open To Anyone For Anything RP Post

[questionablewit]

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Brilliant ideas and clueless flailing all welcome.
AUs and cross-canon, drama and comedy and shipping.
Just throw stuff at me. It's all good.

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[freo]

Èowyn backs a step away to give Faramir room to rid himself of the rest of his clothing, watching eagerly. Greedy gaze roams over every inch of his bared body once he is finally as nude as she is, unabashed in her appreciation of his body. She sucks in a soft breath as she takes in his cock, standing up tall and proud between his legs.

She has seen naked men, indeed. She grew up among people less concerned with such propriety; she has seen plenty of Rohirrim bathe out in the wilds. More recently, she has treated men in naught but their skin. She's quite familiar with that part of the male anatomy-- just never in such personal context, nor in such full state of arousal. Perhaps she ought to be intimidated, but nay, she is merely fascinated; and something else, heavy heat coiling sluggishly somewhere deep between her hips.

"Well?" she repeats softly, a bit of a breathless quality to her voice. The tip of her tongue peeks out to wet her lips unconsciously before she exhales a soft, shuddering breath. "It is beyond well, beloved. All of Middle-earth may envy my fortune, for my husband is the best of men and looking upon him in all his glory kindles a fire in my blood."

Biting her lip briefly, her lips curve as she takes a tentative step closer, touching a hand to his shoulder where the scars from the poison arrow mark his skin. "See how you inspire me into poetry, though my efforts always pale next to yours."

[freo]

Èowyn frowns a little in concern and sympathy as she watches him wince, even if she says nothing of it this time. Once on her feet, she wastes little time claiming his arm.

"Should I be completely truthful then, my lord?" she asks with an edge of tease in her voice, but hardly gives him a chance to respond one way or another before doing so herself. "I do not. Least, I hope I will lessen the chance for you to get distracted all over again so soon."

Or something to that effect. In reality, it gives them a few moments longer to spend in each other's company.

[whattheydefend]

Faramir has been used to walking with a lady on his arm as a formal thing, even impersonal, but over these past few days walking so with Èowyn has come to feel second nature. To walk next to her without touching her at all would seem unnatural, or at least undesirable. And if she is doing it now because she fears for his health or doubts his destination, still he will not quibble with the results.

"How, when you are the greatest distraction in these halls?" He trips a little and catches himself, realizing that he has had more wine than was wise, if he is unsteady on his feet and not guarding his tongue as well as he should. Perhaps he will rue that in the morning; for now he grins at her, unrepentant and suddenly a little giddy from the nearness of her. He can still smell her hair, or thinks he can. "When I saw you standing at the doorway earlier, I thought you were Elbereth herself, or some star fallen to the earth."

[whattheydefend]

Faramir laughs, reaching for her waist again as she steps towards him. "Glory seems too great a description, but if it is poetry you want..."

With his other hand he caresses her side up to the swell of her breast, circling over before finally taking it in hand, his thumb brushing lightly over the nipple. He breathes in deeply, looking at her with open desire and admiration. In a quiet, reverent voice he begins to recite in the Elven-tongue, his hands wandering over her skin, his fingers kneading and caressing. He pulls her closer, bends and kisses her ear again, her neck, punctuation marks in his recitation.

[theywhowait]

He shivers, a pleased rumble of sound in his chest at the way she reacts to him, hands skimming down to cup her hips and drag her close to him.

[theywhowait]

He waggles his eyebrows at her.

"Well yes, obviously! But I can't be seen singing that, after all - what would everyone think!"

[withoutswords]

She chortles at that blatantly lascivious expression. "Oh, they would know what to think, my lord. And I would wager most know the song already, or some like it, even if your lofty position protects you from being exposed to such crudeness."

She smirks a little. The Riddermark is less modest about such things than Gondor, and once in a while she likes to make him blush. "But to save your dignity you could sing it only to me. Or if modesty still forbids then I will keep it to sing to you. On special occasions."

[withoutswords]

It does not take much effort on his part; Eowyn willingly lets herself be pulled as close as might be, molding her body against his, thigh to thigh and chest to chest. Breaking off their kiss, she instead kisses his neck, then bites lightly, remembering another time when he reacted well to that.

[leftbehindthesea]

She squeaks a little and then all but melts against him, clinging back.

[theywhowait]

"Well, if you taught me the lyrics, I suppose we could sing a duet." He grins at her. "After all, it is better with two, no?"

[theywhowait]

He gasps when she does.

"Eowyn!"

[withoutswords]

"Was this not in your book?" Another kiss to soothe the place, and another bite further along, and so she proceeds.

[withoutswords]

"It certainly is." Her expression and the way she says it makes the sentence much more suggestive. Her eyes sparkle with mirth. "And you are certainly my preferred partner for...duets."

[theywhowait]

He groans again, neck arching as his hands flex on her hips.

"N-not quite exactly this way? But I am not adverse to... ah... embroidering around the theme."

[theywhowait]

"Oh good." He waggles his eyebrows at her again with a grin. "As I am not interested in other partners~"

[withoutswords]

"I should hope not!"

She all but launches herself at him, tackling him so they both fall onto the blanket, with her half-lying on top of him as she kisses him enthusiastically. After a minute of this she stops, still smiling broadly. "I should hope not," she repeats. "For I am not inclined to share, now that I have a dueting partner who suits me."

[freo]

Èowyn instinctively puts out her other arm to steady Faramir when he stumbles slightly, though if he truly had tripped, there would have been little she could have done to prevent that especially with a broken arm. It's a momentary distraction from his candid, unguarded question, to which she smiles a bit wryly and tries to ignore the tiny flutter somewhere in the pit of her stomach.

But when he goes on, she cannot help her breath of laughter, amused now. "Huh! Wine makes your thoughts fanciful, or perhaps deceives your eyes."

[freo]

"You are simply too modest, that is how I see it," she disagrees succinctly with a crooked smile. She breathes a soft sigh when his hand finds her breast, the rosy nipple under his thumb hardening further at the touch-- and how does such a small thing feel so wonderful? She's still trying to recover from the headiness of the caress when Faramir renews his gentle offense on her body and mind both, murmuring softly in Elvish as he goes.

It would be more lovely if she could understand all the words Faramir recites in their entirety, but what she can make out is beautiful and fateful and vaguely ambiguous the way all Elven things tend to be. In Èowyn's opinion, at least. Fleetingly, she thinks she ought to teach Faramir some of her own tongue; just maybe not now. The Rohirrim have no ethereal love poems to quote-- naughty limericks, more like. But again, later. Her own hands do not stay idle, one trailing lightly down his side and hip and the other brushing against his chest, fingertips stirring the hair there to graze against his flatter nipple; curious whether that is sensitive, too.

"Is this what you imagined it would be? Being together like this?" she asks in a soft tone of her own. She does not play coy and ask if he has pictured this in the first place; she certainly has, and plenty of times, so why wouldn't he?

Short tag because on phone

[whattheydefend]

"I am often fanciful," he admits, giving her a surprisingly sweet smile that makes him look younger than he is. "But usually better at guarding my tongue so that none know of it. The wine has much to answer for, it seems! Thank the Valar you are here to send me to bed and thus protect my dignity."

[freo]

"Worry not," she laughs again, helplessly endeared by this sillier side of him in the wake of such heavy conversation and dreadful revelations. Would that he always had cause to smile so sweetly! "I will guard this terrible secret of yours as if it were my own. Your dignity shall remain unspoilt."

[withoutswords]

Her breath catches when he groans, when his hands tighten on her. Oh, she likes that reaction, clings to him all the more and leans up so she can better reach him. "Surely as a scholar you would not--" She kisses his ear, then nibbles on the earlobe. "--limit yourself to only one source?"

[whattheydefend]

"No." His lips brush against her ear as he murmurs the word. He certainly has pictured this, often and in great detail, and it thrills him to the core to know that she has as well. "It is much, much better, for it is real."

With that he bends a little and picks her up in his arms, flashing her a quick grin before carrying her over to the bed, placing her on it, and joining her there, lying by her side and bending over to kiss her again.

[whattheydefend]

Her laughter is like music, and not merely in relief after such dark topics as they have shared this night, and he smiles all the more to hear it. "Then I will leave my dignity in your capable hands, lady."

He tries to speak more quietly, now that they are passing occupied rooms. Most of the patients are in larger areas, with multiple beds to a room; only those of higher rank have solitary chambers. His is not far off, and he is a little sorry it is no greater distance.

But now he can seek it out and hope to find sleep therein, whereas earlier he could not imagine ever sleeping again, nor even moving. And if he is lucky he will fall to sleep remembering Eowyn's laughter, and not imagining other sounds. Fanciful or not, Faramir thinks she brought light with her when she found him, and though he does not say as much aloud, his eyes and smile say enough.

[freo]

Èowyn merely smiles warmly, too keeping in mind they ought to not disturb the other patients-- nor draw attention to themselves right now. She's grateful for Faramir's elevated mood, even if it is only for a while, and aided by the wine. She does not think the matter over and done with, for how could it be? But if she could help distract him from his devastation even for a moment tonight, she's content. She has her own thoughts to turn over and realizations to make, come the next day.

She feels the same remorse when they reach the door to Faramir's quarters, but she silences it in favor of smiling again, if only a little as she slowly unhands him arm. "Well, my lord, we have arrived. I am afraid from here on you shall have to make do on your own, but I have every faith that you will prevail."

[freo]

Èowyn parts her smiling lips to respond, but words get exchanged for a small gasp of surprise when Faramir suddenly bends to lift her up into his arms, throwing her own arm around his shoulders to hold on and laughing a little. Perhaps it had been the time to move this over to the bed-- except lying on her back like this feels a lot more passive than standing upright with him, and for a moment she doesn't quite know what to do, where to put her hands.

Fortunately Faramir leans down to kiss her almost immediately, solving her dilemma for now. Framing his face with her hands, she kisses back with the same heat as before, even if she doesn't hurry, now; the length of her hair still spills over one shoulder and breast, snaking onto the bedclothes next to her.