faemused | Open To Anyone For Anything RP Post

"We both are." He agrees, and gasps with her.

"What... Eowyn, was that the babe?"

"You felt it also?" She looks amazed. It was such a small thing, a fluttering, and yet she is sure she did not imagine it...

No sooner had she thought so far, then it happens again. Her eyes are wide with amazement. "It must be." She laughs, her face still wet with tears. "Perhaps he agrees with us?"

He kisses her, breathless in wonder.

"Or she does. Oh! And again!"

"Or she does," Eowyn agrees. She rests her hand on top of Faramir's as he searches for more such movements. A third flutter, and a fourth. "Westu hal, little one," she murmurs, awed.

"Hello little one." He echoes her.

Every flutter beneath their hands makes his breath catch in wonder, and he looks at Eowyn with shining eyes.

"It feels more real than ever. Oh! I can hardly wait."

She caresses his face, smiling warmly at his open, unalloyed delight. "I think you will end in wanting as many children as possible, min heorte."

((ooc: yus!))

"Possibly." He grins at her, thoroughly besotted. "Of course, I might change my mind again after she is born!"

She chuckles and kisses him. "I hope you will be as enthused if she turns out to be a boy."

((ooc: hmmm... do you want to go straight to the birth mebbe? Or later in the pregnancy?))

He kisses back, his hand tapping back at a kick.

"If he is a boy I will love him just as much, and pray very hard he doesn't take too much after his uncles!"

She laughs at that idea--oh, Eomer will adore being an uncle, and Eowyn does not doubt Boromir would have been just as devoted. "Bema, prevent that," she agrees. "Though you need not tell Eomer I said so."

As if she won't tell him herself, later.

He laughs with her, and through the next months they dream and plan together and he waits on her every need.

But as the day approaches, his solicitiousness takes an anxious, hovering edge.

As with the first months, the last months of Eowyn's pregnancy are not easy, and certainly not comfortable. She is often tired, spending more time than she is at all happy with resting or even in bed, and her back and feet ache. She is often short of breath, and despite all the rest, she sleeps poorly. There are other symptoms as well, discussed with the healers and known to be normal, but some of these she does not mention to Faramir. It is the first time in their marriage she has kept any sort of secret from him, but his anxious solicitude, however well-intentioned, is...wearing.

That is the tactful description she uses. A more accurate one is that it's annoying, frustrating, and sometimes even insulting. She is with child, yes--as women are every day, and she is healthy as a horse as well, and attended by the best, as only befits the wife of the Prince of Ithilien. There is naught to fear, surely!

And yet Faramir is anxious, and even when he attempts to keep it to himself, it makes her on edge. She was almost relieved when, the previous week, he was summoned to Minas Tirith, and kept there for some days. Much as she missed him, she missed the hovering not at all. "No,, Faramir," she says firmly, twisting out of reach before he can take the bundle of horse blankets she is holding. "I thank you, but I do not need your help; I am entirely able to carry a few blankets down to the stables. And glad as I am of your return, if you do not cease following me all over the house, I may dump a bucket of slops over your head!"

Sometimes Eowyn shows her heritage more pointedly than others. The Rohirrim are very direct in how they deal with problems.

He blinks and ducks his head sheepishly.

"Forgive me. I just...worry." about her, about the babe....

She is still quite annoyed, but it is difficult when he is ducking his head and looking at her thus. Which is also annoying.

Eowyn sighs, shifts her load so it rests on her hip, and reaches a hand up to her husband's face. "Faramir, my heart. I am well. The babe is well. Everything is exactly as it should be and there is nothing to fear. Also you are a man of considerable strength and will. Please turn it to good purpose!"

He winces a little at the scold - it is not the first time, and they both know it will not be the last. He's not sure why he's so worried - every healer says the same, Eowyn is young and strong and healthy, and there is no reason for anything to go wrong.

But still...

"Forgive me, Eowyn. I will attempt to hover less. Is there anything I can do for you at all, however?"

"You can return to your work, and leave me to attend to mine in peace until supper," she says, firm but not unkind. She does pull him down for a quick kiss. "I will meet you then, as usual."

They dine together in private these past few weeks as the time has come closer, instead of with all the household; or sometimes Faramir dines with the household while Eowyn rests.

"Yes dear." He says meekly, but with the hint of a grateful smile. She is being very patient with him, and he is grateful.

He does leave her be until dinner, which he brings himself with their maid to help him with the dishes.

"Eowyn love, are you hungry?"

She has been less patient with him on other occasions, snapping and scowling despite her best efforts. She never forgets that all this close attention comes from love and fear rather than a lack of belief in her abilities; Faramir has lost all his near family, and it is not surprising that he should fear to lose her and the babe also. She often reminds herself of this. But sometimes through gritted teeth.

Still, he obeys her for the rest of the day, and for all that the meek "yes, dear" makes her want to throw something at him she is calm enough when they meet later, and lets him pull out a chair for her to sit. Her back is aching even more than it has been wont to of late, and she cannot begrudge that extra help.

"Always," she sighs, resting a hand on her distended belly. It is an old joke by now, though her appetite has calmed somewhat during this last trimester. Nearly at the end of the race, and the finish line cannot come soon enough for Eowyn.

"And is our little one hungry too?" He offers dryly, helping the maid to set up their meal and then dismissing her with thanks.

"At least the nausea of the early days has passed."

"Always," she agrees, a little rueful. She strokes her belly. Truthfully she is not very hungry at the moment, between an all-over ache, and tiredness, and the particular pain in her lower back. But she knows better than to miss a meal. There were one or two times early on in her pregnancy when she fainted from not taking her hunger pangs seriously enough. Which no doubt contributed to Faramir's tendency to hover. She has no desire to repeat the experience.

But her breathing is easier today, which helps, and she takes a long drink of cool, clear water. No more alcohol, not for the past months; it makes the baby kick too much, and she is uncomfortable enough as it is. Also, he kicks enough as it is, every few minutes. "The nausea, I do not miss at all. But I do wonder if I am carrying a bucking foal rather than a baby." Eowyn winces at another, stronger one.

"Must be a boy." He says wryly. "And so my first words to him will be to scold for being so inconsiderate to his mother!"

He keeps to water as well, since she cannot drink, and he offers her first serve, also. He's gotten used to finishing any leftovers since her appetite is not as good as it was.

"I doubt that," she murmurs, then winces at another throb of pain in her lower back. How he the babe even able to aim there? "But even so, I cannot blame him for his impatience. So too would I be, in his place."

She takes a few bites, but they are slow and distracted, and she looks uncomfortable.

"Perhaps my second or third word." He acknowledges, and looks concerned.

"Should I massage your back, love?"

Eowyn glares at him. "You should tend to your meal, and--"

She gasps mid-sentence, abandoning the rebuke. This time the pain in her back is so great that she forgets all else for a moment. When it passes she is pale and clutching the edge of the table, breathing hard.

"Eowyn!" He gasps, for although she has told him not to fuss, this is highly irregular.

"Eowyn, Eowyn, what's happened?"

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should we skip ahead?

Re: should we skip ahead?

to when?

Re: to when?

a little before the birth, so we can have some hovering. Can you start? Or I can if needed

Re: a little before the birth, so we can have some hovering. Can you start? Or I can if needed

boy does she not want to have someone waiting on her every need. at all.

Giggle

Was discussing in plurk that Eowyn does not know how to have a hobby. ALL WORK ALL TIME.

looooooooool

...I am of course going to make the childbirth difficult, because I suck.

XD

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time to make Faramir panic. *rubs hands and cackles*

loooooooooooooooool

time to make Faramir panic. rubs hands and cackles