faemused | Open To Anyone For Anything RP Post

Her answering smile is surprisingly sweet and open as she places a ring on his finger in return. "And in Eru's name, I give myself to thee as wife, until time itself should part us." She entwines the fingers on their ringed hands. "May that day be long in coming."

He doesn't answer in words, drawing her close to kiss her instead, eager for the taste of her.

She reaches for him just as eagerly, tilting her head up to meet his kiss, her free hand at once burying itself in his hair as she pulls his head down towards her.

He comes eagerly to her tug, before pulling back slightly.

"Should we take this somewhere sitting or lying down?" He offers shyly.

"We should," she says firmly, turning away from him only for so long as it takes to walk to her bedroll. It lies on the ground--furniture is one thing the Haladin do not yet have, or very little of it--but piled high with rushes and covered in blankets and furs for warmth. She kneels and pulls him down after her, never releasing his hand, and kissing him again once he has joined her. If she kneels as he sits, she is closer to his height.

He follows her willingly, settling down beside her.

"Much better." He murmurs, and kisses her again, now she no longer has to tiptoe, and he no longer has to bend down.

She only hums her agreement, her mouth otherwise occupied. She does not rush. Each kiss is slow, thorough, appreciated. She explores his mouth with her tongue with care, her hands stroking through his hair. She pauses a moment at that, chuckles a little. "I love your hair." She pulls back enough to look at him, her eyes shining as she pushes a lock back from his face. "I don't think I had told you. It struck me from the first, how beautiful it is."

((ooc: looooooooool ))

Caranthir flushes at the compliment, leaning a little into her hair.

"Thank you? I'd never considered it to be anything special."

She smells of wood smoke and musk, and her hair brushes against his face as he leans in. "Yes, I have noticed that you continually undervalue yourself." She strokes her fingers through the long dark waterfall, silk smooth hairs catching on her calloused fingers. "But it is beautiful. As are you."

((ooc: Caranthir getting redder and redder as Eowyn preens))

She smiles wonderful and he all but purrs.

"You should have met my older brothers!" He retorts, teasing, pressing in to kiss her again. "But that you think I am beautiful makes me very pleased."

The low rumble in his throat makes her smile, and she returns his kiss with enthusiasm, wrapping her arms around his neck. His words spark a question, but she sets it aside for later. Right now there are more urgent matters needing attention.

Or at least, more tempting. He has not done this before, she knows, so she will need to lead. And she does, letting her hands wander gradually over his body, chest and arms and back. Though always she returns to his hair, stroking the length of it or burying her fingers in his scalp as she pulls his face towards her for more kisses. Those she drinks in like honey, like rain in a dry season.

He follows her lead, trusting her to know if not what she likes, certainly what she doesn't - that, at least, is one good thing that came out of the Idiot Boy.

He is only too happy to kiss her, learning the taste of her lips and shyly teasing at her tongue. His hands copy her movement, learning the touch of her, sweeping over her sides and down her back and gradually growing bolder.

Already things are not at all as in her previous experience. She was attracted to her erstwhile suitor, yes, she was flattered, and she was curious. But there was always a distance, a part of her that stayed aloof, observing. She had thought little of it at the time, for that part of her is always there, watching things at a remove. She learned long ago that it was part of what made her different from those around her. She has more than once been called cold and distant because of it.

She is neither now. It has ever been so with Caranthir. There is something about him that disrupts her, brings her fully into the moment. It unsettled her at first but just now she welcomes it, inwardly astonished by the contrast with her previous experience. The long sweeps of Caranthir's hands make her shiver with anticipation, and the dance of their tongues sends waves of heat through her. She hums her approval at his boldness--then lays down on the bed, pulling him with her.

He follows her done, balancing on his arms above her, dark hair tumbling loose of it's braid and dark eyes bright, the flush on his cheeks now desire.

"I do not wish to squash you..."

Haleth frames his face with her hands, looking up at him. "You will not." She too is flushed, much tanned skin rosier than usual as she pulls him in for another kiss.

He nods, not trusting his own voice, pressing close as she pulls him in.

"Show me?"

"I will." A quiet, firm promise breathed against his mouth before she kisses him again. Her hands roam slowly, taking advantage of their new position; he does not fully cover her, but they are chest to chest, and more able to explore, to feel each other.

The touch of both hands and mouth are unhurried, for Haleth. She desires, yes, already there is heat growing. But there is no need for haste, and she means to appreciate this. They have all night.

He murmurs his approval of her exploration in soft sighs and kisses in return, slowly learning the shape of her, where her scars are, where she likes being touched.

As he learns her body, she studies his, researching as thoroughly and carefully as she studied any of his maps or tales of his people. But with far greater enjoyment.

It is several minutes before she pulls back a little, just enough that he may see the small smile she wears, the bright color in her cheeks. "You made this dress for me. Would you like to remove it?"

He blushes brighter but nods.

"Should I... let you up?"

"For a moment." An unfortunate necessity it seems--but Haleth loves the clothes he made for her, and would not have them torn unnecessarily. Once he moves she sits up, shaking her hair from her face; it is already more than a little mussed, her mouth kiss-swollen.

He backs off, and stares at her admiringly.

"You are so beautiful." He murmurs softly, moving to help her with the dress, although it was specifically designed for it to be easy for one person to get it on and off.

She protested the description once, if only in her mind. She does not now, for that he speaks the truth as he sees it is evident and undeniable. And it is hardly as though she minds his calling her thus. Not when it is Caranthir who says it.

Undoing the ties on her dress is simple enough, and lifting it over her head easier still, but she is more flushed when that act is done. Despite this she sits up straight, letting him look his fill of her, the only sign of nervousness the way she licks her lips before eventually speaking. "I did wonder...when you were making that dress, how much you must have thought of...what lay beneath it."

He looks, almost drinks in the sight of her, like she is a dream who might vanish. His flush darkens at her question, and he ducks his had a little, shyly.

"I... I... did a little, yes." Looking up, he adds, eyes darkly serious. "But the reality outdoes the dream."

"Does it?" She tilts her head, birdlike, looking at him. "That is rare."

Haleth licks her lips, then shuffles closer. "I would have us on equal ground, if you will. For...more than once I have looked at the shirt you gave me to wear, that night we first met, and wondered about the body that had been underneath."

She never did return that red shirt to him, and has kept it, quietly folded among her own possessions.

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psst Haleth absolutely shares Faramir's hair kink

Re: psst Haleth absolutely shares Faramir's hair kink

Faramir and Haleth just staring at Caranthir and Eowyn, sharing popcorn

Re: Faramir and Haleth just staring at Caranthir and Eowyn, sharing popcorn

She'll distract him with talk of fighting or embroidery or such. But yes.

Caranthir thanks Eowyn, she is a bro (unlike his actual bro, who is up here laughing at him)

Eowyn is rarely pleased by another's embarassment. And she'd like Caranthir.

He sputtered shyly

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