faemused | Open To Anyone For Anything RP Post

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From:

theywhowait

"I do!" He smiles and kisses her slowly.

"But I trust thee more than all others."

From:

withoutswords

In answer she returns his kiss, slow and thorough, and her hands press against his back, and the conversation is not continued in words.

It is some weeks until he has cause to return the favor. An hour or two before dawn, in early autumn, Eowyn suddenly fights her way out of sleep, sitting up abruptly in bed and gasping for breath, her skin clammy and her stomach churning.

From:

theywhowait

It has been a long day, as days in new Ithilien often are, and Faramir had fallen asleep easily and deeply, untroubled until Eowyn wakes. They went to sleep tangled together as always and her disquiet wakes him as well.

"Eowyn?"

He blinks and sits up, reaching carefully for her.

"Love, what is it?"

From:

withoutswords

It takes a minute for Eowyn to collect herself and remember where she is, when she is. The sound of His laughter still rings in her ears, and for a moment it seems her right arm is numb.

But Faramir's voice is in her ears, more real than the dream-echo that already fades, and his arms are warm around her, and when she reaches up to hold his arms in place the fingers of her right hand close as she bids, and she can feel the warmth of his skin with them. She takes several long, deep breaths, willing her heart to stop racing and her stomach to settle. "Nothing," she says finally. "It is nothing. Only the old dream." She sighs, leaning against him. "It has been so long I had almost forgotten it."

From:

theywhowait

He pulls her closer as if to ward her from an imagined chill, and his hands grasp her right firmly.

"I had lost track of the dates - are we getting close to the anniversary?" He knows that some days are worse than others, for both of them, and anniversaries are the worst of all.

"I am sorry it has roused itself love."

From:

withoutswords

She shakes her head at once, for the date of her defeat of the Witch-king and the date of Faramir's father's death are the same, and that date not drawing near yet. There are other dates with other memories that are difficult, but that one is always the hardest for them both--if much mitigated by the fact that their meeting and courtship began soon after, which is an anniversary far more pleasing for them both to remember.

"No," she says. "No, I cannot think of any reason why it should return now." She reaches up and rubs her forehead. "It is but foolishness, old ghosts and old dreams." She forces a smile that becomes more real as she looks at his face, so concerned and loving and near, lifting a hand to his cheek. "It is well, love. Already it fades."

From:

theywhowait

He kisses her hand fondly.

"I am glad. I suppose these things do not have to have a reason, as much as it vexes me to know that there is no way of controlling or predicting them. Will you sleep again my love, or should we sneak out for a ride under the stars?"

From:

withoutswords

She laughs a little, as he meant her to, for more than once they have crept out for a midnight ride, much to the consternation of their servants, their guards, and their horses. But she shakes her head. "No. It lacks but an hour or two until dawn. Let us get what sleep we may, for the rest of the night."

And so they do--but even with Faramir's arm warm and close around her, Eowyn finds she cannot get back to sleep, and her stomach still churns uncomfortably even though her mind has calmed. When morning does break she is pale and poorly rested, and does not breakfast well, keeping only to toast.

From:

theywhowait

"Alright." He agrees, kissing her softly and tugging her back down, where he wraps his arms around her as if to ward off evil by his very presence. He looks worriedly at her in the morning.

"Ai, my love. You do not look at all well."

From:

withoutswords

She waves this off. It is true that she does not feel entirely well, but neither does she feel truly ill, for all that breakfast is unappealing. "It is nothing. A night of poor sleep, no more. I am certain it will pass."

From:

theywhowait

"I hope, where'er he is, our Enemy is plagued with poor sleep." Faramir says with a sigh.

"It seems to unfair that our old hurts should revisit us this way. Would it be easier if you rested more this day? There is nothing so urgent, I think, that you cannot take a little break."

From:

withoutswords

"I hope he is plagued with more than that." If her tone is a little bit tart, well, she cannot be blamed for that. Given how much suffering the Enemy caused, and for how long, poor sleep is the least of his desserts.

Eowyn finally abandons her breakfast entirely, pushing it aside. "Perhaps, but I would prefer not. You know how I cannot stand to be idle." She can smile at that, for it is now more of a jest between them than the hard, restless truth it once was. "And some fresh air will do me well. There is little tending to do in the gardens at this time of year, but at least I may plan for the spring."

From:

theywhowait

"As do I!" Faramir's agreement is vehement.

"True enough." He smiles at their private joke. "Sunshine and fresh air... I know the fields have been turned over. We can look to our private garden now. Did you not mention you wished to try both flowers and vegetables?

From:

withoutswords

"My herb garden first," she says firmly. That is where she grows the healing herbs that are now part of her trade, and she is fiercely proud of it. "And yes; though I cannot match Legolas' instincts with flowers nor Irena's mastery with the kitchen garden, yet I will try."

Legolas held true to his word and visited them at the end of their first year of being wed, to begin designing them a garden which will in a few more years be glorious indeed. And Irena, who oversees the gardens and orchards that grow fruit and vegetables for all the household, is nearly as skilled in her way. Thanks to her forethought they all eat well indeed, even in winter when few things grow.

But another word has caught her attention, and she tilts her head. "But did you say, 'we'? I had thought you needed to meet with Beregond."

From:

theywhowait

"I do, but..." He reaches across to squeeze her hand.

"It is not urgent. I can always put it off til later, if you wished it."

From:

withoutswords

She smiles, clasping his hand as she stands and moves towards him, bending to kiss the top of his head. "Go attend to thy duty, love, and I shall attend to mine. Then we can meet at midday with clear conscience, and perhaps walk in the orchard this afternoon. Will that suit?"

From:

theywhowait

He lifts her hands and kisses both palms, one after the other, and smiles at her.

"My lady speaks both wisdom and my heart's desire, and I will heed thee! To our duties then, and I will meet you in the orchard with a luncheon meal?"

From:

withoutswords

"If it is not too cold," she agrees. "Though after a morning in the gardens I may prefer to have our midday meal somewhere more warm. We shall see! At any rate I shall meet thee, at noontide."

Another kiss and an embrace follow; they have been married nearly two years by now, but are no less fond of each other's company. With that thought in mind Eowyn leaves for the gardens with a light heart, despite her troubled sleep and unruly stomach.

The latter continues to plague her for a time, but has settled itself by the time she and Faramir meet again, and she eats a hearty lunch (inside, alas, though informally so) as though to make up for her missed breakfast. They talk and tease as always, discussing the duties they share equally between them, and Eowyn knows she is content.

But later that evening she once more feels unwell, and finally loses the battle she's waged off and on throughout the day to keep from retching. To her private relief Faramir is not with her at the time to witness her discomfort; much as she loves him, there are some things better done alone. One of the maids is nearby, however, and Eowyn reluctantly agrees to go to bed early and allow the girl to inform her lord of what has transpired. In truth she is more tired than usual, no doubt because of the difficult night before.

From:

theywhowait

He had been in his study just adjoining their bedchamber, finishing off the paperwork to start afresh the next morn, when the news reaches him, and he sets everything aside to hurry to her.

"Eowyn? Love are you well? Perhaps you are coming down with something..."

From:

withoutswords

Eowyn has not come directly to their bedchamber, instead stopping by the kitchens to request a mug of mint tea to take with her, so she meets her lord at the door. She smiles when she sees him, though it is tempered by a fond exasperation.

"Don't concern yourself so," she chides. "I am but a little unwell. No doubt due to not resting well last night, which I will amend."

From:

theywhowait

He relaxes sheepishly at her chiding.

"Forgive me for the nagging! I only worry. But you are the healer, not I! So I will trust to your judgement. Are you tired now? We could adjourn to bed early."

From:

withoutswords

"I am tired," she admits ruefully, "and will find it little hardship to take an early night for once. But if you are yet awake you need not join me yet, if you do not wish it. I know how tedious it is to lie in a bed and yet be unable to sleep!"

From:

theywhowait

He kisses her gently.

"Then go to bed, my love, and I will finish off the paperwork before I come to bed. I will not be long!"

From:

withoutswords

She accepts both kiss and promise gladly. Many noble couples keep their own chambers, but they have never yet done so, and she has no wish for it. Even if it means he will wake her when he joins her later on, it is worth it.

As it turns out she is already sleeping lightly when he does eventually arrive, and does little more than sigh peacefully as he slips into the bed and kisses her hair before fitting himself alongside her.

Her sleep is dreamless, but the next morning she wakes early again (though not so violently as the previous morn), still unsettled. Again she shrugs it off, eats lightly, goes about her work despite it. The feeling comes and goes but does not pass.

Things continue in this manner for several days, and Eowyn grows more and more irritated by it. She is not so fond of mint tea as to enjoy drinking it by the bucket, as she now seems required to do! She complains as much to one of the other healers in the Hall, who gives her a shrewd look and asks a few pointed questions that leave Eowyn openmouthed for a moment, gaping with astonishment and realization.

She saddles Windfola and takes him for a short ride on the plain outside Emyn Arnen, taking no one with her (except for the guard, who of course follow at a discreet distance). She always does her best thinking when on horseback, but she cannot pull her scattered thoughts together even with Windfola's help.

Finally, near sunset, she goes in search of Faramir. They often meet to watch the sun set together in private before joining the rest of the household for the evening meal. He finds her pacing and restless, as she always is when something is weighing on her mind.

From:

theywhowait

Farammir has been hovering, although he tries not to. She is clearly not doing well, but he trusts that she knows the best way to manage. It just... makes him twitch.

Seeing her pace makes him just as jittery, and he comes hurrying over, to catch her hands in his.

"Eowyn? Beloved, what is wrong?"