Open To Anyone For Anything RP Post

[questionablewit]

Want to tag someone? Tag someone. Put the character you want in the subject line.
Leave a starter, or leave a prompt and I'll start.
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.

Comments

[freo]

"Three days hence," she replies a bit somberly. "A day of sorrow it certainly will be, but also of joy." For knowing Théoden will finally rest with his kin, for the proper beginning of Éomer's reign... and, she hopes, for a joy far more personal for her and Faramir. Smiling warmly, she tightens her fingers slightly against his arm as they walk.

"Your offer is considerate, but you are our esteemed guest. I would not dream of putting you to work, my dear lord! All is well in hand with practical arrangements." It is a gentle, fond chide, albeit no less firmly meant. "More personally... I will take much comfort and strength in simply knowing you will be there, Faramir."

suddenly stuck. Have we anything else we'd like them to discuss this evening?

[whattheydefend]

He watches her quietly, noting the frown, but does not contest this explanation. Instead he holds up the cards, shuffles them, and proceeds to teach her a fairly simple game that may be played even with only two players. They have nothing to bet, but he can keep the score in his head even if she cannot.

It is a child's game, in truth, and more than a little silly. But silly was the goal, or part of it. And it lets him tell her a few more stories of his own childhood, including the time he and Boromir played and bet with their assortment of hard-boiled sweets from Boromir's birthday, and both lost because they ate all their winnings at once and were sick half the night as a result.

[whattheydefend]

He shakes his head. "Guest I may be, but I dislike being idle as much as you, Eowyn! I do not doubt you have all things well in hand, but if you wish to make use of me, please do. Or else I will find myself doing naught but sparring with your countryfolk, who seem most curious to test my mettle. A reprieve would be welcome from that onslaught!"

He sounds more amused by the prospect than intimidated, despite his words. But at her last sentence he takes her hand and kisses her fingers briefly. "Whatever comfort I may offer you is yours, beloved, and gladly given."

lol he'd be flattered that you think him hot, I'm sure XD

[grumpycatanthir]

"We brought their ancestors with us from Valinor." He informs her, eating with the quick precise economy of someone long used to eating on a battlefield, wasting nothing, including time.

"My brothers, the Ambarussa and Maglor, breed them, as does our cousin Fingon in Hithlum."

He nods. "Aye. You have wounded still too ill to move, and your people are still weary. We will stay a while longer, and then escort you to safer lands."

*exactly*

[theywhowait]

His grin only broadens, his eyes bright with love and affection.

"Perhaps I am. But really, my wife, if you could see how you look at the moment, I rather think you would agree with me."

It brings him such joy to see her this way, to bring her such pleasure, falling easily into the rhythm of her movement.

looooooool of course she does. He just huffs at her

[theywhowait]

"I think I need a wash." He says ruefully, twitching a little as she helps to wipe it.

"Ah, well. I have never lain with a woman, and so cannot compare. But as you said, we are here today in a good place to... experiment." Shyly, his hands settle on her hip.

"I did not come out here only to sate my own appetites!"

She loves him? Honest? Even if he's a prudish Gondorian? ;)

[withoutswords]

"Yes, I fear you do," she agrees, entirely unrepentent. "There is a stream nearby, or you could have a bath when we return. Perhaps even with me."

Having begun, Eowyn is clearly only going to become more irrepressible. Or perhaps it is merely the excitement of the moment, for she shivers with anticipation when he reaches for her. "Oh? Then what else had you in mind, my lord?"

I love them so.

[withoutswords]

She cannot retort, for she is too distracted, and merely grips at his head and shoulders as he continues to build a fire within her, as it grows in her belly up to her breastbone.

But this is not the position she wants, not this time, so with a groan of frustration she lifts herself up off his hand, off his lap. Instead she lies on her back on the cloak, pulling him down with her and embracing him, kissing him with fervent need.

Pfft they're all hot. And Haleth refuses to admit anything about whether or not he's hot.

[takesnoshit]

She snorts, a sound of disbelief. "Are there safer lands? I wonder." She eats with the same efficiency. All her short life there has been battle. She does not believe in safety, it is clear. Only respite, and that always brief.

looooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooool

[grumpycatanthir]

"Safer than this." He points out. "We're not more than a few days marches from the Enemy's lands, here. Your people need time to rest, and to rebuild. You won't get that here."

he is glad that she does!!

[theywhowait]

"Well." He murmurs, smiling up at her, "I don't mind a bath together, but surely I can bring you pleasure as you have done for me without fear of a child. And... well. There were... uh. Suggestions. In the book?"

Cough.

me toooo

[theywhowait]

He smiles against her lips as she demandingly changes position.

"Were my fingers not pleasing enough for you?" He teases.

That would be why we keep doing this, yes! ;)

[withoutswords]

"They were...acceptable," she manages, teasing him in return. She pushes on his shoulders, urging him down her body. "But I believe you might do better, my silver-tongued husband."

[withoutswords]

She smiles and reaches for him, pulling him closer. Just before their mouths meet, she says, "Show me."

timeskip it is!

[freo]

The game he teaches her is simple and silly, indeed, but Éowyn hardly minds. It is actually a pleasant diversion from everything else, and they play several hands, each taking turns winning and losing. She enjoys the artlessness of spending time with him like this; he is not the Steward of Gondor and she is not the sister of the King of Mark. They are simply Faramir and Éowyn, playing a game intended for children and speaking easily of fond memories, laughing and smiling.

And if at times their gazes meet and hold over the table for longer than necessary, well.

Time passes almost too swiftly and the hour grows late; late enough, eventually, that even the open door won't save them from ill gossip, the passing servants having already given them curious enough glances from the hallway. Reluctantly, Éowyn bids Faramir good night, eyes soft when he takes her hand and brushes his lips against her knuckles in farewell. Against all odds, she goes to bed that night feeling... content.

Such contentment is torn from her the next day, faced with the hard reality that morning in the gardens. The sun is hidden and dull grayness blankets the world, so very dreary. It has grown cold-- and silent, so eerily silent. A hard, chilling wind had risen from the North and kept hammering the City, merciless. The starry mantle about Éowyn's frame is normally warm, but now she shivers under its luxurious weight as she stands by the wall, gazing out into the hard wind and toward the faraway land where their fate would be decided. She feels it in her gut; today the world stands on a brink, on a knife's edge.

She feels Faramir's presence beside her rather than sees or hears it, eyes peeled above the mountains where the sky is clear and hard and foul. Would that this day were like the others earlier, where they stood together by this wall and walked about the gardens, and spoke of things they have not confessed to any other. But it is not. There is no postponing fate any longer, for good or for ill. Éowyn finds she is unexpectedly frightened by the prospect.

"Must they not now come thither, the Black Gate? It has been seven days since he rode away." Her brother, or lord Aragorn-- it is uncertain as to whom she talks about specifically.

[freo]

It would be quite impossible indeed for her to miss the avid reaction of his body, a fact which flatters and pleases her immensely; as much as it sets ripples of warmth coursing through her belly, her own gaze darkening and turning sultry. She shifts a little restlessly on her perch on his lap at the sound of his deep groan, which likely does not help his situation any. Allowing his finger to finally slip out of the warm suction of her mouth, she smiles in a decidedly sensuous manner.

"Why suddenly so silent, my husband?" she teases, her tone pitched a little huskier than normally.

/rubs hands in anticipation

[whattheydefend]

They meet in the morning without it being planned; by now it is natural to them both to seek each other's company. Faramir looks stronger than he did the previous day, the restful evening and a night of untroubled sleep having done him obvious good. He too went to bed, if not content, at least more lighthearted than he has been.

But the morning dawns ominous, cold and grey, with an ill wind blowing. Worse than all is the sense that a stroke long prepared is about to fall. It is not only Faramir who feels it--all do, and Éowyn not least. They keep close to each other for comfort as much as company. Merry chooses to keep inside by a fire rather than join them, and indeed many of the residents of the House seek the fireside, hoping the warmth and companionship will be a bulwark against unnamed fears.

But they two go to the wall, as they so often do, and this time Faramir does not look down at his city, but East. There have been no tidings of the armies of the West, as he has told all who have asked him. They are all in the dark.

He only hopes they may not be so in truth. On this day all things feel tenuous, and he feels more keenly how easily all things might break--his newfound, infinitely precious bond with the White Lady of Rohan included. So he stands close by her, and whenever he is not looking East, his eyes rest on her.

"Seven days," Faramir answers. "But think not ill of me, if I say to you: they have brought me both a joy and a pain that I never thought to know. Joy to see you; but pain, because now the fear and doubt of this evil time are grown dark indeed. Éowyn..."

He hesitates, because he has waited and knows he should wait longer, for several reasons. And yet if all is about to fall, to darken...he would have her know. He places his hand on the wall next to hers, so that their fingers just touch. "Éowyn...I would not have this world end now. Nor lose so soon what I have found."

yesss, so good

[freo]

Éowyn closes her eyes at his words and the minute touch of their fingers, a roil of emotion churning within her; the joy he speaks of but also cold dread and uncertainty. For if the world is to end here... can she face it with such gentle confessions in mind, with regrets of what may have perhaps been? And yet, what if the world does not come to ruin? What then? Torn such, she trembles, but not from the chill this time, the sound of her name falling from his lips still echoing in her ears.

"Lose what you have found, lord? I know not what in these dark days you have found that you could not lose." But though her face is grave, her gaze is kind when she opens her eyes and glances at Faramir. She does know-- she knows of what he speaks. "But come, my friend. Let us not speak of it. Let us not speak at all!"

She draws in a shuddering breath, another shiver coursing through her and that unnamed fear tightening its hold on her heart. It feels akin to a dream; a nightmare fading already from memory upon waking. "I stand upon some dreadful brink, and it is utterly dark in the abyss before my feet, but whether there is any light behind me, I cannot tell. For I cannot turn yet. I wait for some stroke of doom."

[freo]

"Ah, I see," Éowyn laughs. "Your true motivation is revealed; you wish merely to escape the trials my folk would set before you." Her eyes dance with fondness and mirth even in the low light, every word nothing but a playful tease. Her expression softens with affection and appreciation when he takes her hand and kisses her fingers, teasing forgotten for now.

"I know it," she murmurs, smiling tenderly. "With you here, there is no sorrow or hardship I could not endure."

[whattheydefend]

"Am I?" His voice is low, and his eyes flicker from her eyes back to her mouth. He licks his lips absently. "I fear I became distracted."

He reaches for her hand and brings it to his lips, kisses her knuckles. His tongue darts between her fingers to taste the skin there. Slowly he drags his mouth along her index fingers, then kisses the tip. "I pray you will forgive me."

His tongue swirls around her finger, and he closes his eyes at the sweet taste of honey there. With painstaking slowness he takes it in, then sucks hard even as he removes it. When he opens his eyes to meet hers, as he moves on to the next finger, his gaze is scorching.

[freo]

He turns the tables on her so skillfully she can only marvel at it; if she had the presence of mind for such, that is. Her head is too overcome with mounting arousal as everything else fades away, her breath hitching and a faint little noise of pleasure escaping her as his tongue flicks sensuously in between her fingers. A jolt of sheer sensation snakes through her and centers hotly between her thighs; she squirms a bit at the feeling, eyes fluttering and lips parting. Her hands, she's discovering, are full of sensitive spots Faramir's mouth is diligently laying siege to, leaving her trembling under his tender onslaught.

Her tongue feels thick in her suddenly dry mouth, unable to produce an answer for him. Another noise, just shy of a moan, spills from her parted lips as he sucks on her finger. "Faramir..." Her voice is barely audible, breath coming in soft pants now, hypnotized by this sensual tease, stifling another moan when he switches to the next digit. Warmth pours through her and her nipples tighten beneath her robe, scarcely able to comprehend just how arousing she finds this.

[theywhowait]

He's blushing fire red, but his lips are eager and open beneath hers, and one hand goes shyly looking, to see if he can find that special bump that he was assured would please any woman.

(He has no clue what he's doing otherwise, but after that, he really has to try SOMETHING)

XD XD XD <3

[theywhowait]

"Oh, I see we are going for variety today."

He laughs, and obligingly kisses his way down, pausing to press teasing kisses up the inside of her legs, never quite getting to where she wants him.

<3

[withoutswords]

"Tease--" She gasps, her fingers tangled in his hair, trying to pull him towards where he knows perfectly well she wants him to be.

[withoutswords]

The act they have already shared has had some effect on her as well, but she still feels she needs more, so she finds and stops his hand in its explorations, breaking off their kiss with a short laugh, leaning her forehead against his. "Not--not just yet, I think," she says, a little breathless. "Work your way down, first--"

As she did days ago in the library, she takes his hand and returns it to her breast, even as she kisses him again.