faemused | Open To Anyone For Anything RP Post

It is the first time she has seen real evidence of Caranthir's legendary temper, of him living up to his name. Haleth does not flinch. In other circumstances she would find it interesting, but not when she is, indirectly, the cause.

Not that she thinks for a moment his rage is aimed at her. Still, anger transforms him, and for the first time he seems a being uncanny--not merely taller and more beautiful, but other. Even so, while there is some discomfort in her, there is no fear, and her disquiet is only because she dislikes upsetting him, however unavoidable.

But the tale is told now, and she waits in silence as he reacts, as the deadly tension clenched in him finds some small outlet in a curse and a blow. A small, feral smile touches her mouth at his response. "He was." There is a grim satisfaction in the words. "His death was neither quick not clean, I promise you."

For all her pragmatism, Haleth is not without a bloodthirsty streak, it is clear. But for now she looks back at Caranthir, her gaze once more thoughtful and measuring, as it usually is. "I have decided," she says, without further preamble. "I will take my people West, to lands held by no sons of Fëanor." She need not say why. They both know how the Oath presses on him, and that she agrees his own lands are too near the Enemy's front lines, even if she were willing to lessen her own sovereignty. "Allies against the Enemy I hope we are and will remain in the future, but for now the Haladin must rebuild. We will leave in the spring."

"Good." He snarls, pleased, but then she announces her decision and his face falls, the anger running from him and leaving him empty.

"So soon?" He says softly, and then masters himself - Haleth is not the sort to dawdle unnecessarily, and her people need security he cannot give them.

"No, you are right." He says tiredly. "I will write you letters of introduction, although I think you will find little trouble from any but Thingol and my brothers."

Haleth shrugs. "There is not time to waste, as you know. We cannot stay here overlong, especially not if your brother does call you back to war; it would be tactically unsound. Better for us to move on to a place where we may remain."

She tilts her head, looking at him curiously for another minute. "You have courted me most assiduously, Caranthir of Thargelion," she says, just as forthright, just as abrupt. "You know my priorities, and that they will not alter; you know that I cannot bear children and that I will not marry as the Edain do, and nor am I free to live with you, nor you with me. You know I will be old and gray and haggard while you remain as you are, and that I will eventually be taken by the Gift of Men. Knowing all those things, do you still wish to offer suit?"

She stands with her chin lifted high as she waits: a small, plain, striking woman, unquestionably mortal, no more than she seems and no less.

"You speak truly." He says tiredly and sighs. "I will do all I can to ensure you safe and swift passage, of course."

He blinks at her and his eyes soften.

"I do, and I always will, long after you and I have our final parting."

Haleth looks at him for another minute, then nods, stepping forward. "Then I accept your suit." She reaches down and takes his hands, twining their fingers together. "We may not marry as Men do, but I will wed with you in the manner of your people, and take no other for all my days."

She looks down at their hands rather than at his face, and her voice is quiet but firm. "And even if seasons or years pass between our meetings, still I will take joy in whatever time we are able to have."

"Eh?"

He had clearly been bracing himself for a rejection, so at first he blinks at her in surprise, and then down at their hands.

"You... " His breath leaves him in a gasp, and he pulls her in to kiss her soundly.

"Thank you, Haleth."

She had wondered how he would react, and the astonished, blinding joy on his face is a sight worth seeing, a complete contrast to the burning dark fury of only a few minutes before. He pulls her into an embrace and she goes willingly, kissing him with equal enthusiasism. In the back of her mind, the part that never stops analyzing, Haleth realizes with bemusement that this may be the first time he has reached out to touch her of his own accord, since that first day when they met and he brought her, collapsed, to his own tent to rest. She decides quickly that it is a thing she could get used to.

When they do break apart it is only by a few breaths; when he thanks her she laughs a little. She kisses him again, more lightly, just a quick brush of mouth on mouth. "I do not accept as a favor," she says. "So you need not thank me. I accept because your arguments were persuasive." She raises a hand to his face, smiling. "And because my heart wishes it also."

His smile for her is shy, and it makes him look young, especially with the rain stain across his cheeks.

"I know. But I am thankful all the same, because we both know you could have said no, and so, I am grateful, for I will have this time with you."

Her answering smile is not shy, but it is bright, lighting her face in a way that makes her almost beautiful. "I could have. Perhaps I should have. But as I said, your arguments were persuasive." She reaches up and touches his mouth with light fingers, then caresses his cheek. Her fingers are gentle, if calloused. "And if these memories sustain you in years to come, however dark those may be, then I am glad of it."

Bah, she's always beautiful.

He leans into her fingers, reaching up to tangle his fingers with hers.

"Good! I would have been grieved if they were not. And this is a warmth and a joy that will sustain me forever."

She kisses him again, long and lingering, their hands entwined, for that is the best answer she may give to such a statement. It is awkward, for he is much, much taller than she; even on tiptoes, and it is only a minute or so before she pulls back. "This worked better," she says, her voice low and amused, "when we were both seated, and your greater height not such a difficulty."

He has to bend to reach and she has to stand on tip toe, but he's reluctant to let her go all the same, resting with their breath mingling as he smirks a little.

"I never thought I would fall for one so short!" He teases. "I could lift you up, but that is not exactly a comfortable way to kiss, either. Shall we find ourselves a place to sit, instead?"

She takes a step back, disengaging, though she keeps ahold of his hand. There is a small pleased smile on her face, but the look she gives him is direct, eyebrow raised. "That depends on your will."

She reaches up with her free hand, runs her fingers over his lips. "You must leave at the dawn. But if you wish it, I will lie with you this night, either in my tent or out under the stars and sky, in Eru's sight. So at least one night we may have, before parting. If you wish it."

((ooc: Caranthir says NAAAAAAAH))

His breath catches a little at the thought, his eyes gleaming.

"I do wish it - if you yourself are certain. Although I will say that tis still a little chilly to be cavorting beneath the stars!"

The kindling of interest in his eye makes her smile. "I would not disagree. And I am certain."

Of that, there can be no doubt. Haleth does nothing she is not sure of. She would not have accepted, nor made her own offer, if she were not fully committed to her course.

She squeezes the hand she still holds. "But you should first return to your own camp, to tend to whatever needs tending, and to ensure none will worry at your later absence. I will await you."

"The curse of a leader." He agrees, lifting her hand to kiss it. "And you have work that needs doing as well, I imagine. I will come to your tent later, perhaps? Tis not as if we do not meet regularly anyway, if any of your people are suspicious."

"It matters not if they are," Haleth says firmly, as his mouth touches her fingers. "I do not intend to hide you. Even if I do not wed you formally, I will not sneak and pretend. Come to me as openly as you please."

The corollary also applies, it is unspoken: if ever she visits his encampment, or even his city, she will be just as bold and unashamed, as uncaring of gossip and idle tongues. The approval or disapproval of others is of no consequence.

He laughs softly.

"Bold and unapologetic." He agrees. "Let them see and know." He bows a little to her. "Then I will go, and go swiftly, that I might return all the sooner."

She bows over his hands in return, kisses his fingers before releasing them. "Go swiftly and return swiftly, Caranthir." There is more warmth in the way she says his name, her voice making a caress out of the syllables. It is clear that while she has taken long to make her choice, she is no longer inclined to waste any time.

His cheeks heat at the gestures, and his eyes are smoldering with desire as he pulls away with a brisk nod. The sooner he's gone, the sooner he's back, and he doesn't quite pick up the pace as he heads back to his own men.

The day crawls, but equally there's too much to do to brood overly, and he's heartily sick of acting the prince by the time the day is done.

He comes striding into the main encampment unapologetically after supper, looking for her.

Haleth cannot be found at first, as she is deep in conference with several others. When someone comes to deliver the message that the Lord Caranthir has returned and awaits her, she merely nods and returns to the discussion as though no interruption has occurred, just as she has for the past several days. If her heart beats faster with anticipation, it does not show.

She gives her orders, and everyone disperses to carry them out. Only then does she go to see Caranthir, who waits near the great bonfire that stands in the center of the camp. She is wearing the clothes he made her, and her hair is decorated with beads and feathers in the manner of the Haladin. It is not perhaps fit for a wedding night of sorts, but it is all the finery she has. A small smile touches her mouth when she sees him. "Lord Caranthir," she says formally, as she still does whenever they meet, nodding her head in greeting.

Caranthir is waiting for her by the fire, and only the way his hands twist and pull at his sleeves betrays his nervousness and impatience.

He looks up and bows to her.

"Lady Haleth." He murmurs, and the light in his eyes is very bright and clear.

She nods her head towards her tent. "Come, follow me."

That is all she says before turning to walk with him to her tent. She does not intend to hide her choices, but neither is she at all inclined to display them for all to see. She has, she hopes, made it clear that this is an alliance between herself and Caranthir, not between the Haladin and the Firstborn, and if only for that reason it would be unfit to do otherwise.

And besides...Caranthir, she thinks, would not thank her for making his inevitable blushes public.

She stops at the entrance to her tent, gesturing for him to enter. So far this is nothing they have not done many times, for her tent is larger than most and contains a table and a few chairs, and has been used for their meetings before now, that first night when he arrived included. From this alone there will not be much for the Haladin to suspect.

Not until he remains all the night, as she hopes he will. So she is smiling when she follows behind him, turns and ties the entrance shut at multiple points. "I have given order that we are not to be interrupted, not unless there is very great need," she says without preamble, turning and smiling at him, her eyebrow raised. There is a lit lantern on the table, and its light, the warm color of the dress he made her, the metallic threads, tease bright highlights from her brown hair.

He nods, following her in, and when she turns, has clearly been admiring the sight she makes, glittering in the firelight.

"That is well." He says gravely, but the shy fidgeting of his hands continues.

"I... brought you something." He adds awkwardly, dipping into a pocket. "Since we're going to be making this official, by my standards, that is."

Haleth looks a little surprised. "You are well prepared," she comments. "What is it, and what is its significance?"

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Eh, he's biased.

only a little bit!

Evidence suggests A Lot. ;) And seriously he must be a foot and a half taller!

Re: Evidence suggests A Lot. ;) And seriously he must be a foot and a half taller!

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timeskip?

yus!

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