Not subtle in the least. Much as Éowyn takes pride again in her house and heritage, she is also aware of the differences between Gondorian and Rohirric cultures. She may make all the barbarian jests she can, case in point, but she would be lying were she to claim she had never wondered -- in those brief moments of doubt when their separation weighted most heavily on her -- if perhaps there was some truth to the jokes. It is not in her nature to wonder and doubt thusly, not very often at least, but some things were simply too important to take for granted.
"That could never be possible," she denies with a smile to the possibility of him looking like a fool, knowing it is a response only an utterly smitten person would make and not caring one bit.
She cannot feel bad for teasing him with such a reward! For she can hardly call it punishment, either. Sighing against Faramir's lips, she matches his passion every step of the way, tangling one hand in his hair like she has a habit of doing. When they finally break apart, her cheeks are pink with a flush and she also has to catch her breath for a moment before attempting an answer.
"A most persuasive argument, my lord. I am much convinced," she breathes on a happy chuckle, gazing at him warmly but with some solemnity, also. This is no longer a tease, but a legitimate concern. "And what of your own folk? Are they still content to see their much beloved Steward wed a Northerner and set her up as mistress of Ithilien?"
Slaying an enemy as mighty as the Witch-king in battle was all well and good, but that only went so far, the way she sees it. In her mind, she has a duty just the same to prove to the people of Gondor that she would make a worthy wife to Faramir-- to say nothing of her role as the future Lady of Ithilien.
hmm, i'm gonna try to do some research on this. we'll come up with something!
"That could never be possible," she denies with a smile to the possibility of him looking like a fool, knowing it is a response only an utterly smitten person would make and not caring one bit.
She cannot feel bad for teasing him with such a reward! For she can hardly call it punishment, either. Sighing against Faramir's lips, she matches his passion every step of the way, tangling one hand in his hair like she has a habit of doing. When they finally break apart, her cheeks are pink with a flush and she also has to catch her breath for a moment before attempting an answer.
"A most persuasive argument, my lord. I am much convinced," she breathes on a happy chuckle, gazing at him warmly but with some solemnity, also. This is no longer a tease, but a legitimate concern. "And what of your own folk? Are they still content to see their much beloved Steward wed a Northerner and set her up as mistress of Ithilien?"
Slaying an enemy as mighty as the Witch-king in battle was all well and good, but that only went so far, the way she sees it. In her mind, she has a duty just the same to prove to the people of Gondor that she would make a worthy wife to Faramir-- to say nothing of her role as the future Lady of Ithilien.