faemused | Open To Anyone For Anything RP Post

"I know that." She tosses her head, impatient.

"I knew that, even then. But ... Eomer, you're acting like you h-hate me!"

"What? No!" His denial is immediate, even surprised.

"Then tell me what is wrong! If I have done something to upset you, Eomer, please tell me what it is! I know I am awfully young, but I didn't think I had misstepped that badly."

"You have done nothing," he says, and now his voice is more harsh. "Nothing. The fault is all mine, and I will bear it. You need not disturb yourself."

She shakes her head, her mouth setting in a determined little line.

"But I am disturbed. Tell me how I can make it better?"

He is silent for a long moment.

"What is it," he finally asks, "that you hope to achieve?"

She folds her hands in her lap, and looks up at him.

"I want you to be happy. But I would prefer you to be happy with me. I am learning Rohirric, you know. I promise I will work ever so hard, and won't be a burden."

Edited 2018-09-02 15:59 (UTC)

Eomer looks stricken, and shakes his head. "I do not think you would ever be a burden, whatever situation you found--or put--yourself in. But I cannot. You do not understand what you are asking."

"Then explain." She lifts her chin to him imperiously.

"Because I'd work hard, Eomer! I promise. I'm not some princess who doesn't know how to do anything but sew. I can figure very well, father says, and Amrothos says my knifework is quite good, even if he won't let me do more than throw them. I can almost beat Elphir at staves, and he says my bow-work is very fine! I wouldn't be a burden."

"Lothiriel." He interrupts this run of needless self-promotion, standing and walking over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "You do not understand the present state of the Riddermark. It will take years before I can make it a place fit to welcome a queen. I could not in good conscience make any woman an offer, least of all you."

This close he cannot resist the urge to stroke her cheek, very lightly, with the back of one hand. "Do not think I am ignorant of your virtues, my lady. I am not. But you are too quick to decide your future." Bema, they have never even spoken of it before now, he's never so much as touched her. How did they reach this point so abruptly?

She blinks up at him through eyes that are clearly a little too bright, although she's too proud to cry in front of him.

"Then I'll wait for you." She says stubbornly. "I'll learn Rohirric and how to ride. And Father says I've always been impetous. But I like you, Eomer. I've always known I would have to marry someone as much for politics as for love, although Father promised me I would have a final say. I think we would do very well together, and I already know I like you."

"Lothíriel..."

It was a mistake to touch her. It was a mistake to come closer, tomorrow just throw her from his room at once, but it was especially a mistake to touch her. It's so easy to turn his fingers, so that instead of a brush of knuckles on the cheek he's cupping her chin in his hand.

It's just as easy to bend and kiss her eyelids where those unshed tears are lurking, and once that's done it's impossible not to kiss her mouth. Feather-light, just a brief drag of lips, chaste enough that even the formidable Hilde might not object, were it not for the context.

Her eyes flutter shut and she leans a little into his hands, a soft murmur of content at the kiss.

"I want to stay with you." She says softly. "I do, Eomer. I really do. I know I'm young, but this isn't just a passing fancy because you're handsome and kind, although you are! I can wait for you Eomer, really truly I can."

Eomer groans with frustration. "You are--" Another kiss, because he cannot help it, not when she is leaning towards him and more than willing. He should know better than this, he does know better than this, he has never yet taken advantage of an innocent and he is not going to begin now, beyond just this... "--much, much too tempting, Lothiriel--"

Another brush of lips and tasting the sweetness of her breath, and there he does stop, deliberately taking a step back from her. "If I promise I will think on it," he begins, and that is no difficult promise, for he doubts he will be able to think of anything else, "and that I will cease keeping such distance from you as I have, will that content you for now?"

Because he needs her to leave, before he really does do something unforgivably foolish.

She is leaning towards him and squeaks as he pulls back, her eyes opening and blinking in slight confusion at the removal of his warmth.

But she does not protest or chase him, settling back and clasping her hands in her lap to consider his offer.

"That would be acceptable." She agrees, and then hopefully. "We could write, when I go back home?"

Writing. Bema, yes, that would be easier, without this tangle of girlhood and womanhood mixed together so distractingly nearby. "We could," he agrees. "If your father will not object."

He is not much of one for writing, but it is a skill he will need to develop regardless, with his sister leaving. Doubtless more practice will be good for him.

"Father has always wanted me to be happy." Lothiriel informs him pertly.

"And if he can get a nice alliance of marriage from it, so much the better."

Her pertness almost makes him groan again, from mixed frustration and admiration, for she is adorable when she looks like that. She is also impossible. He intends to shrug her words off and invite her once more to leave, but finds himself saying something rather different.

"How can you be so certain that this--" Eomer waves his hand, so that this might imply almost anything. The Riddermark, the Meduseld. Himself. "--is what you want? You have barely spent any time here. You have barely spent any time with me. How can you be so certain already that you wish to leave behind all you know, all you love?"

He'd like to dismiss her surety as some youthful infatuation, but she is making it very difficult. And he is genuinely astonished by her certitude.

She shakes her head at him.

"I'm not. But I must, Eomer. Don't you see? I'm the Lord of Dol Amroth's only daughter - sooner or later, I would have had to leave home to marry someone. Oh, father would have chosen very carefully to make sure I would be happy, but ultimately I know my duty to my people. But I like you, and I like what I see of Rohan. I could be happy with you, Eomer. I really really think I could. And it would make Father happy, and be politically useful. Everyone wins."

She bites her lip and looks away. "Unless you really don't like me, I guess."

That is too practical a reason for him to dismiss. For all that he was not the heir, and has only recently felt the constraints that come with being royalty, he is hardly ignorant about the expectations that come with noble weddings. In her land more than in his, but in the Riddermark as well. And especially in times of war, or just following war, it is well to make alliances where one can.

Her last sentence, however, earns her a raised eyebrow. "Do you truly think I would have kissed you as I just did if I did not like you?"

Lothiriel is spoilt, the baby of the family. But she knows her duty, and always has.

She sniffs at him.

"Well considering how you've been behaving earlier...."

Eomer suspects he is being played. Lothiriel is not as innocent as she seems, not with three older brothers who she regularly wraps around her fingers, to say nothing of her father, who is no fool.

Even so, that last sentence is all but a challenge, and he answers it, stepping quickly back towards her and seizing her for another kiss. This time his mouth parts against hers and his tongue slides against her lips, seeking entrance; this time it is not soft and tantalizing, but demanding.

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

It is a thorough, practiced kiss, one Eomer should save for someone with more experience, or at least for his wedding night. But she has kept the upper hand so alarmingly this evening that he cannot resist reclaiming it, if only for a few minutes.

He breaks it off before things can get too heated, pulling a little away, as much as he can with her clinging to him like a vine. "I trust," he says, and his voice is lower than usual, "that any question of whether or not I like you is now put permanently to rest."

Lothiriel blinks up at him, kiss dazed, lips swollen and eyes bright, her whole body swaying towards him like a lodestone to the pole.

"I... " She clears her throat and makes an attempt to sound pert (mostly, she just sounds very well-kissed)

"I think I would like to be convinced more often."

Open To Anyone For Anything RP Post

he will even throw in a foot rub!

All is forgiven.

\o/

this is going to go terribly romantic comedy, you realize

probably XD at least there will be no screams of YOU PERVERT

And please god, no panty thieves.

I cannot promise no unexpected bath time shennanigans, I guess

those would be funny though.

true! Clearly we should do that then XD

after they're engaged maybe. Before that I think it'd make him angry. (Faramir and Eowyn though...)

loooooooooool

She'd do it.

She would XD Faramir would also not object XD

But does Faramir's mun want to write it? ;)

faramir's mun could be convinced~

oh reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeally...!

XD XD XD gimme something to work with and I will be happy to try

Gonna hold you to that. Also sorry for the delay, Eomer is harder.

lol <3 and that's ok!

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