faemused | Open To Anyone For Anything RP Post

She laughs at this sound of protest, and if it is ragged and breathless still it is joyous, and she bends down to kiss him briefly in apology. It must be brief, for truthfully she is as impatient and needy as he, and moves to meet his thrusts again almost at once.

She tries to watch him, for he is beautiful like this, unrestrained and wanting and lost in pleasure. No one else ever sees this, only herself, and there is a fierce pride in her at the thought.

But the sensations are too much, she needs too much, she wants, and her eyelids flutter shut as she moans and concentrates, rolling her hips so, trying to reach that peak. "Faramir--love, I need--please--"

She needs him to touch her there, or she will have to do it herself, if she can hold herself upright at the same time. Hopefully he will be able to make sense of those unfinished, gasping words.

He is breathless and gasping, his eyes full of her. He nods when she pleads - or thinks he does, anyway, fumbling with one hand to look for that special place that makes her writhe.

"Eowyn, Eowyn, my beloved!"

Her only answer is a high-pitched keen, her eyes clamped shut and her hands fisting in the sheets on either side of his head as she rides him, urgent and heedless, any rhythm lost in the rising tide of need. Until finally she cries out, her head thrown back, shaking above him as pleasure overtakes her.

She's beautiful like this, and he's the only one who gets to see her like this, wild and unrestrained. That thought alone, even as she clamps down around him, would be enough to make him come, and he cries her name (he thinks. probably) as he convulses.

She holds herself up as they both come undone, then collapses on his chest after, her head resting on his shoulder. They're both breathing hard, and her hair is sticking to her back, and any other sweat-covered skin it touches, whether hers or his. Ruefully, Eowyn realizes she now probably needs a bath.

Later. Right now all she wants is to lie in her husband's arms, both of them spent and blissful. She kisses his cheek absently, murmuring his name.

He's exhausted, but it's the pleasant sort of exhaustion, and he brushes a tired hand over her shoulder as she kisses him.

"I love thee." He murmurs, happily tired and satiated.

"I love thee." She is limp and boneless, all her limbs overtaken by a sweet lassitude, but manages to lift her head and kiss him properly on the mouth.

She does not want to move, but this position is becoming uncomfortable, so reluctantly she disengages and lays herself alongside him, using his chest as a pillow. That is much better, and she sighs in contentment, wrapping an arm across his waist.

He shifts enough to let her settle comfortably by his side and makes a low noise of content.

"I would we could stay here forever." He yawns. "But we will need to be up in a few hours."

She makes a small, sleepy noise of protest, nuzzling her cheek against him. Now that the rush of heat has passed the sweat is cooling on her skin, and she shivers a little, but still does not wish to move. They already should have been up hours ago--but surely they have earned the respite, and this moment is sweet.

Feeling her shiver, he gropes for the blanket and pulls it up over them.

"Later then." He yawns, unwilling to move her when they are both comfortable. He's sure someone will come and find them if something is truly urgent.

Eowyn murmurs her contentment, nestling under the blanket and settling alongside him more closely. She is sated and replete, cocooned in warmth and love, his arm gentle around her. If there has ever been a time she was happier than this, she cannot remember it.

That pleasant, dozing state lasts for perhaps half an hour or so, at which point her insides abruptly revolt, and without warning she is forced to lunge for the side of the bed and the chamberpot there, heaving for several minutes as her stomach attempts to turn itself inside out despite being empty.

Faramir has drifted almost entirely back to sleep by then, jolting back to awareness with a startled whoof as she accidentally elbows him in her lunge.

As soon as he realises what is happening, he reaches over to pull her hair back from her face and hold her through the spasms.

"Should I fetch some ginger tea, love?"

She is dimly grateful that he holds her hair out of the way, for the comfort of his arm around her, even as she hates the way her body revolts against her will, churning and roiling to no purpose. Even after that part is over she remains, trying to force her body to calm.

"No." She pulls herself back up, lying on her back on the bed, still breathing hard. She grimaces, wipes her hand across her mouth. "No, I should prefer water, I think. And we are long overdue for breakfast, little as I like the idea at the moment." Some food will help, she knows, but it still has no appeal. She sighs. "I think the next months will seem very long."

He strokes her hair and waits patiently for her body to settle, pressing a gentle kiss to her shoulder.

"Alright. Do you want me to go and stoke up the fire a little, if you are cold? Or shall I braid your hair back?"

She cannot help but give him a look, half amused and half exasperated. "My hands still work perfectly well, Faramir. I am not made an invalid merely because I am expecting a child."

And he did promise not to hover over her too much. But he means well, so she relents a little. "But it is cold. We should both dress for the day, in truth...but I would not mind if the room were a little warmer first. And I would like some water."

He relents, aware that he is again hovering, and kisses her on the cheek before nodding and moving to get up.

"I will leave you to dress then, my love, and sort out a fire in the sun room and breakfast. With water."

She accepts the kiss willingly, a little sorry that her mouth tastes too foul for intercepting and extending it further, and more sorry that their idyll has been interrupted so thoroughly. But the day calls, and they can no longer postpone answering.

And she is cold. So she cleans up as needed, dresses herself quickly and warmly, shivering. She checks in with the housekeeper to ensure they have missed nothing of import, and with that reassurance that there is nothing pressing requiring attention she makes her way to the sun room. By that time, at least she is actually hungry, and smiles happily when she sees him waiting for her as promised.

By the time Eowyn comes out, Faramir has breakfast ready, the toast and eggs as well as the kettle for the water kept warm by the fire, as he peruses the few papers that had been delivered for him to see.

He looks up and smiles as she comes in, rising to greet her with a kiss.

"I did not know what you might like." He says fondly. "But I thought perhaps the toast and eggs might sit a little easier. Cook sent up some of the last of the wild dried apples, too."

She smiles warmly both befor and after the kiss, for this is one of her favorite times of the day. They usually breakfast in here, and the room has windows enough to be bright even on overcast days. It is one of the rooms they discussed building long ago, when first they arrived at Eryn Arnen, and its promise has been more than fulfilled.

She remembers too that it was shortly after deciding on the sun room that they first discussed the possibility of children, and one hand drifts back to her abdomen, marvelling over how things have come to pass.

Once more she kisses him, then takes her seat. She eyes the eggs a little wistfully. "Toast first, and tea. Then I shall see if I may brave the eggs as well. Is there anything of interest in those?"

She nods her head towards the paper. Emergencies tend to come with a messenger, but urgent news may still arrive written, especially from the further reaches or Minas Tirith.

"Nothing much." He passes them over to her as he is done.

"Reports on the state of the orchards and this year's harvest, as well as the state of our herds - all looking good, so far. We are progressing very much to our expected goals, I think! There are some requisition lists, I will leave those for the healers and horses to you, I think? But all looks well."

He grins at her hopefully over a cup of tea.

"We could go riding today. I don't think anyone would miss us if we went out to inspect the further fields and took a picnic with us."

She gives him a look, not at all fooled by the excuse of 'inspecting the further fields'. Though going by the smile at the edge of her mouth, she is amused rather than disapproving. "You wish a holiday."

The idea has some appeal. Things are about to change, unalterably, and she is still a little shaken when she thinks of it. The way her stomach roils a little at the smell off food only drive the point home, though she still is quick to prepare some toast and begin to eat it.

"I do." He agrees shamelessly. "I think we both deserve one! And in fairness, we have not been to inspect the further fields since we got here."

"No, for they have not needed our inspection, and likely do not now," she points out, smiling. "But I am willing to let it be our excuse, for your plan does sound delightful. And I know of a copse where the bluebells should already be out."

It is nearly springtime, after all. Not quite, but near it.

"We do not know that for certain." He says with impish seriousness.

"But a copse of bluebells, a nice rug, a light meal. These things do sound very attractive!"

"They do," she agrees. "And some time with you, with nothing to distract us, sounds more attractive yet." They spend much time together, as much as they can contrive, but for much of it they are busy. There is never a shortage of things to do in Eryn Arnen, and often Faramir is called away to Minas Tirith; sometimes she goes with him and sometimes not, depending on where she is needed.

Faramir is right: they have more than earned a small holiday. And have they not something to celebrate?

She glances over the papers he's handed to her, taking note of the numbers therein and what they imply. "Mm. I have things I should attend to here first, but they should only take an hour or so, and then I may be at your disposal." She matches his impish seriousness. "So think well on how you wish to dispose of me."

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....seriously Eowyn braid your hair first next time...

lol they were otherwise occupied

pfft I've had hair that long I know how much trouble it is. He probably loves it though.

he does~

oh well, so long as they're happy

tbh these two are the biggest saps and are probably happy with each other irregardless

Absurdly so. Also, I am mean.

looooool so terrible

do you really think Eowyn would get along well with pregnancy? She's not that patient.

lol sadly true

I think the best word to apply will be "tetchy."

looool he will make sure to supply backrubs and footrubs

Smart man. He's also welcome to play with/braid her hair so long as it's in play.

He is not at all opposed to this!

They should take the whole day off and go riding and meandering and talking. Yes?

absolutely!

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oh lord I've just realized how nervous/hovering he'll be when she gives birth