faemused | Open To Anyone For Anything RP Post

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From:

theywhowait

"I am sorry for my cousin."

He apologises, coming over to offer Winfola a rub.

"She is, as you can tell, very young, still. She will not do so again."

From:

withoutswords

Eowyn waves her hand briefly, dismissing this. "She meant no harm, and she is far from the first to ask such questions. There are many who think is strange that I have no desire to boast of my great victory."

The words are light enough, but her face is still shadowed, and she looks at Windfola's flank as she brushes it, instead of meeting his eyes.

From:

theywhowait

"That I know." He comes over to rest his hands around her waist, not impeding her movement.

"But it does not make the shadows any less real, nor painful. Oh Eowyn! I would that I could sweep away your grief! But since we both know that pain is pain, and wounds always ache when stirred, I will say only this - I am here, beloved. In whatever way you need me."

From:

withoutswords

"You do comfort me." Eowyn closes her eyes and leans back into his embrace, welcoming the closeness of him. "It is not that," she says quietly. "Or not only that. I--there is something I had not yet told you."

She sighs, standing still for a moment in his hold, then puts down her brush, stroking Windfola's side a moment in farewell. "Walk with me? We should speak of this, a little."

From:

theywhowait

"Of course." He blinks, and moves to let her lead the way.

"What is it, Eowyn?"

From:

withoutswords

She shakes her head a little, a silent request for him to bide a while yet, though she takes his arm as they walk out of the stables. She leads him...nowhere in particular, in truth, merely a little away from the crowds that are always present near the royal stables and cavalry grounds.

When she has gathered her thoughts enough, she begins, her voice low. "It was some months ago. My brother offered to spar with me, as we did when we were younger, and as I judged myself in good enough strength once more, I was glad to agree. But then--"

Her voice falters, as it never falters. She frowns, irritated with herself, and continues. "It was the first time I had tried to wield a sword since the Pelennor, and I...could not. As I reached for it, I was back there, with the Wraith-king before me. I could feel my shield-arm broken at my side. I could almost swear I felt His breath on my face."

A great shudder runs through her body, one that has nothing to do with the cool air. She stops walking, turning her face towards the wind as though it can cleanse her of the memory. "Every time I have tried has been the same, to one extent or another. The few times I did succeed, my hand shook so badly that I soon dropped it once more. I have tried to overcome this, but so far I have not."

Faramir will know how difficult that admission is, and that she thinks less of herself for failing in this is obvious. She meets his eyes for the first times since leaving the stables. "I have met others with the same sort of injury, as I am sure have you. It is as well I have chosen another calling, for I do not think I will ride into battle again, though it shames me to admit it."

Frustration is written clear on her face, along with an unwonted uncertainty. It is not uncommon for those who have seen too much of the horrors of war to reach a point where they cannot face a return, and she has counselled several such in her work as a healer...but Eowyn still expects more of herself, and has not yet come to terms with her failure.

Edited Date: 2018-06-11 12:54 am (UTC)

From:

theywhowait

Faramir follows, content to walk beside her and give her what comfort touch and his presence might.

He frowns, worried but her faltering, but he stays silent, giving her the time and space to work through it. And when she is done he pulls her into his arms and kisses her fervently.

"Oh brave! Oh Eowyn. I'm so sorry, my love. That you should have something so much a part of you so rudely stolen!"

From:

withoutswords

The kiss is welcome, but the words more so, and her face lightens as she hears them. She touches his face with gentle fingers. "How do you always know what to say?" she murmurs, stroking his cheek. "Yes, that is it exactly. Even though I had decided to lay my sword aside..."

She doesn't need to finish. She worked hard all her life for her skills and place as a shieldmaiden. To choose another path is one thing, but to have the old path taken from her is hard. Even without the injury to her pride, it is hard.

She leans up and kisses him again, out of gratitude for being so understood, and by the time the kiss ends she looks more herself. She clasps their hands together, looking down at them. "It is my hope that I will be less troubled by it in time. Here--" She looks around at the training fields, at the Golden Hall up on its hill. "Here I am too torn, still too much trying to fit into an old life no longer suited to me. When I am less surrounded by memories, I think I will not mind so." A smile flits across her face, and she squeezes his fingers. "Another reason why I am impatient for us to be wed. As though more reasons were needed!"

From:

theywhowait

"A choice that you make for yourself is always kinder to bear than one made for you." He agrees, leaning into her hand although his eyes search her face with fond concern.

"As do I! You have trained hard and earned your skill fairly - for it to be stolen is cruel."

He nods, understanding. "Even as I felt stifled by my father's robes and offices. A fresh start will do us both good, I feel."

Faramir leans over a little to kiss her gently. "When we have time, if you wish it, I am always available for you to practice on. And if you gain again your skill, or if you do not, you will always have my love."

From:

withoutswords

She lets out a low laugh of relief. "I am glad to hear it, and will as gladly accept that offer, once we have settled ourselves in Ithilien. Although...you made your promises to a wild shieldmaiden of the North, and I wondered a little if you would regret the change." She steps an inch closer to him, leaning her head on his chest. "Not much, for I have more faith in your heart than to fear aught. But a little."

From:

theywhowait

"Well, I like to think that I am a fair swordsman!" He smiles at her laugh. "Perhaps it is the wild shieldmaiden who would learn! Either way, I anticipate you will have a few tricks you can teach me."

He pulls her closer, marvelling once again that she permits him to see this side of her as well. He tips her chin up and kisses her.

"Tis alright to fear so long as it does not stop us - we both know that! But I am here, always."

From:

withoutswords

She gives him a Look, and pokes his side. "I know full well that you are a swordsman to be reckoned with, Faramir, Captain of Gondor," she teases. "And I do not doubt there is much you could teach me, if only I may steel myself to learn it! But I am glad to know that you at least will think no less of me if I cannot."

She will think less of herself, in that case--but he is right, it will not stop her, and will only push her to strive harder. Eowyn does not give up easily.

She tilts her face up to his willingly, kissing him long and slow under the afternoon sky while his hand cups her face, and the taste of his mouth warms her like sunlight. It's not the rush of heat that kept overtaking them yesterday, but something more intimate. Inwardly Eowyn marvels, not for the first time, at the depth of connection between them, a thing entirely new to her experience.

They are interrupted after a few minutes, by a distant cheering sound from the training yards, and when Eowyn turns to look she can see, far off, someone in Gondorian livery waving his arm and cheering on his Captain in his...endeavors. She chuckles, though she does flush a little, not that any is near enough to see save Faramir himself. "I think your men are pleased for you," she murmurs.

From:

theywhowait

"I will not." He promises her solemly with a kiss. "How could I, knowing the sort of injury you have had? But I think you too stubborn to allow our Enemy to triumph without at least attempting to laugh in his face - and I believe that your spirit is far stronger than he knows. The way of the blade may not be yours any longer, but it is your right to at least have that much back."

He looks up and makes attempts at a stern shooing off, but his men only laugh back at him, although they do kindly turn away to at least allow them to pretend at privacy.

Edited Date: 2018-06-13 03:24 pm (UTC)

From:

withoutswords

She chuckles a little. "It is true; I am stubborn. One of my faults, but at least in this I may turn it to good advantage." Her expression takes on that slight edge that he may remember from the first days of their meeting, one of determination, though now it is not so grim and fey as it was. "I laughed at him once. You are right: I shall do so again. But I will wait and choose my battleground with more care."

Eowyn, undaunted by the teasing, smiles at the mock-sternness on Faramir's face, and takes his arm once more. "Shall we walk a little more out of range?" she asks, almost demure except in that her eyes are twinkling with mirth.

From:

theywhowait

He smiles and cannot resist kissing that smile, so bright and strong.

"Stubborness is only a fault when one does not apply it correctly. My aid I pledge to your battleground, in whatsoe'er way you require it."

He sighs at his men in fond exasperation, immediately diverted by her hand on his arm.

"I suppose we should, as I fain they will be watching no matter what I say!" He says in mock exasperation.

From:

withoutswords

She leads him onwards, that smile still on her face. "I have endured similar from my people. As you saw last night!" The last she adds ruefully, remembering how they were stopped and teased as they attempted to escape from the feast for a time. "I suppose it is good to know at least that they do not disapprove of the match."

From:

theywhowait

"Your people love you." He smiles at her, and ignores the cheerful whistle as they pass one of his guards.

(Said guard also tips his head very politely at Eowyn)

"That is true - although it is none of your business!" He scolds another gaggle of soldiers in Gondorian livery at the gate, clearly watching them more than working. They scatter with good natured laughter.

"I swear it is worse because Boromir is gone and Aragorn already wed, and so I am the only one they can take out these sentiments on!"

From:

withoutswords

"And yours love you." She holds back a laugh as Faramir chides his men, as they wander off chuckling at his expense. It is all well meant, and she resents none of it. "That is probably the reason. The wedding of the king was a time of great joy, and songs will be sung of the day for generations. But it is you who the people have known and followed for years, so their delight in your delight is the more personal. Certainly that is the case for me and my people, and most glad I am of it."

She squeezes his arm. "Also, you are not so high and out of reach as the king! It is hard to tease a man who has stepped out of prophesy and legend, and not nearly so satisfactory."

From:

theywhowait

"Perhaps I should try and cultivate an air of mystery to discourage them... but I fear it might only backfire!"

He grins at her shyly.

"I am glad that they approve though - it would not have mattered what they thought, but it warms my heart to know that they do."

From:

withoutswords

"Bema, no!" She laughs, shaking her head. "That will only make them wonder more, and I dread to think what conclusions they might come to. In any event I think it is too late and they aleady know you too well."

She grins back up at him. "It would have mattered a little. If the White Company is to accompany us to Ithilien, it might have been difficult if they disapproved your choice of a bride. But from what I have seen all they wish is for your happiness, and so long as they are assured of that they will be content." Her eyes twinkle. "Which leaves my duty very clear! Fortunately it is one I shall not find onerous, for it is one of my greatest pleasures to find ways to make you smile."

From:

theywhowait

"That is probably true." He kisses her smile.

"But thy love makes me reckless, and I care not a jot who sees me with thee."

From:

withoutswords

She kisses him with as little self-consciousness, as little caring who may see them. It is but a kiss, after all.

But she does laugh a little. "You think that reckless? Merely to kiss your betrothed under the open skies? You and I may define the word differently."

From:

theywhowait

Just a kiss, under a clear sky. Enough to make him breathless, all the same!

"A kiss, by itself, may not be so reckless! But a kiss, and then another, and another..." He suits actions to words, peppering her with light kisses, teasing.

From:

withoutswords

Eowyn's breath catches as he kisses her repeatedly, mouth and forehead and eyelids and back to her mouth, until she is dizzy from it. "I see what you mean," she murmurs, not holding him so much as clutching at his tunic to keep herself upright. "And I am reconsidering certain ideas involving midnight rides and piles of blankets."

The innuendo in what she's said only occurs to her after she's said is, and her skin flares pink even as she smirks at the idea. Reckless, indeed.