faemused | Open To Anyone For Anything RP Post

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From:

withoutswords

Hilde looks a little grim, remembering. "I doubt in the way you mean; he was not a man to take direct action when he could have others do it for him. But there are ways and ways of hurting." She waves a hand. "You would do better to ask her yourself. If she has not spoken of it, all the more reason she should."

From:

theywhowait

Faramir's face darkens.

"Wretch." He says softly. "I am glad he is dead. I will, if you think it would help her."

From:

withoutswords

Hilde raises an eyebrow. "You would know better than I if she is at all troubled by such memories," she says bluntly. "Or her brother the king, perhaps. Guilt over that time weighs heavily on his conscience still."

She glances towards the front of the hall. where Eowyn and Eomer are standing a little apart, engrossed in conversation. Eomer looks serious at first, then says something that makes Eowyn push him on the chest--not lightly, from the looks of it, though he doesn't budge--and both laugh. Hilde chuckles. "But here, let us have peace between us. I'll make amends for taking you to task for your forwardness--" There's a slight dig in the way she emphasizes the word he used earlier, though no unkindness in her gaze, "--by telling you a few stories of the lady's youth, if you'd like to hear them. And you can even the trade by telling me about the land you're taking her to. Is it a fair offer?"

From:

theywhowait

Faramir nods, understanding, his eyes gentling with fondness as they find her and Eomer talking.

"I would with good will, my lady, for I love Gondor right well, and I wish her who holds my heart to love my land too."

He has no time that evening - but the next day they have their lunch together, and in the semi privacy of a ride he wonders if he should broach the subject.

"Eowyn?"

From:

withoutswords

Éowyn had returned to find her betrothed chuckling as Hilde told a tale of the first time she'd disarmed an opponent, and been so overexcited and determined to follow through that she'd tripped and fallen into a nearby haystack. She'd ended the conversation as quickly as possible before more embarrassing tales could be told, and the rest of the evening had passed happily enough.

The next morn saw more work for them both, but then a private lunch, where she revealed that Éomer had promised to think on her idea and discuss it with Aragorn, but no further.

A ride was a welcome diversion into fresh air for them both, not least as the weather had gentled. "Hmm?" she said, looking across the plains and only half-attending.

From:

theywhowait

He watches her, for a moment distracted by her very clear joy at riding.

"The Lady Hilde ... loves you very much. She expressed... her concern for... a darker time in your life. If... I don't wish to push, but Eowyn, you know you can talk to me about anything, yes?"

Idiot he berates himself.

From:

withoutswords

His hesitation and unease catch her attention, for both are very unlike him. Understanding dawns rapidly, and she walks her horse a little closer to his and reaches out to take his hand and squeeze it briefly.

"I do know." She tilts her head, fixing him with her direct gaze. "Just as I hope you know you may ask me anything, love. I had not realised you wondered."

From:

theywhowait

He relaxes, now that it is clear he has not upset her by asking.

"I try not to." he confesses. "But it does bother me a little, not knowing how you were hurt, despite that I could not have known at the time, nor been able to do anything, e'en should I have known."

From:

withoutswords

"Indeed you could not have, for you did not even know me then except as a name." Her mouth quirks a little, not quite a smile. His concern is touching, though she hope it does not extend into guilt. That would be foolish. "What is it you wish to know?"

From:

theywhowait

"Whatever you can tell me?"

He shrugs shyly.

"It is a little irrational, I suppose. But I want to be able to share everything with you, Eowyn, even the most terrible things."

From:

withoutswords

Faramir's words warm her heart more than the sunlight. Eowyn stands in her stirrups and leans over the gap between their horses to kiss his cheek, heedless of their distant escort or anything else; Windfola merely flicks an ear at his rider's antics.

She sits back in her saddle, still smiling, though that fades as she begins to think. "I would need to start from the beginning, to give a context," she says finally. "But I find I cannot tell where the beginning was, for things changed most gradually. That was the difficulty; the trap had closed around us before we knew it was there." She glances at him. "What have you heard, of Grima Wormtongue?"

There is no question that that is what this conversation is about, for all that the name had not yet been spoken.

From:

theywhowait

He smiles at the kiss, catching up her hand to kiss her knuckles as she sits back down. But as the topic changes so also does his mien, sobering.

"Little, I fear, for we were much occupied with the defense of Osgiliath, at the time. But I know that he came to great prominence in your uncle's court, although none could say how. I know that they say he cursed your uncle, perhaps was even poisoning him, certainly was the reason for his decline."

From:

withoutswords

It surprises her a little that he has not heard more from Merry before the perian's departure, or from Aragorn or even Mithrandir; but then, Grima is harmless now, wherever he and his master are. There have been far more pressing matters for them all.

"The first I or any knew of him was when he became one of my uncle's counselors," she says finally, after much thought. "A position he gained on his own merits, by dint of clever tongue and clever thought, and at first he seemed able. We paid him little mind, for he was but one of many, and seemed dark and slight compared to other men."

Her lips thinned. "A grave error, that now seems to me. But how could we have known? For we were all much distracted. More and more bands of orcs roamed our lands, and Eomer and Theodred had much to do with driving them off, as Theoden-king grew older before our eyes. He had ruled for forty years, and at first it seemed understandable that he grew tired, more inclined to listen to his advisors and less to use his own judgement."

She sighs, looking down at Windfola's neck but not seeing it, and is silent for several minutes. "He grew...frail," she says finally. "Older he was, but should still have been hale, and yet his hair whitened and his eyes dimmed and his mind wandered. I cared for him as best I could, willingly acting as his nursemaid, for he was as dear as a father to me. I could not accompany my brother and cousin as they kept our lands safe, but that I could do. But he dwindled and dwindled, giving more of his power and responsibility over to Grima, who by then was called Wormtongue for the skill he had at bending people to his will with words. And then Theodred--"

Her voice chokes at that, and she must pause for a moment as sudden tears fill her eyes. When she had first returned to Edoras her grief for Theodred had been born anew, and she and Eomer had both wept for their lost cousin as much as for his father, for there had been little time to mourn him before.

From:

theywhowait

He rides in silence by her, waiting patiently for her to gather her thoughts, nodding slowly as she describes the beginning - one that he can easily see, for it mirrors, a little, his own father's fall.

"Oh Eowyn." He grieves with her. Theodred he knows a little, although he was Boromir's friend, not his. "Was Grima... did he plan for Theodred?"

From:

withoutswords

Her face steels a little. "It seems likely, now that we know he spied for Saruman. Theodred's army should not have been ambushed as they were, not without intelligence given to the other side." Her hands grip the bridle. "Thousands died that day. For us it was the true beginning of the war outright, as opposed to the endless skirmishes that had occupied and exhausted us for years."

Windfola whinnies and moves sideways under her, and Eowyn forces her tense body to relax, leans forward and brushes his neck with the palm of her hand in apology. She glances up at Faramir. "Understand, by that point we--Theodred, Eomer and I, and others--we had known for years we were besieged in our own Halls. Grima had many allies by then, and the king's utter confidence; indeed Theoden barely knew anyone else's name by that point. Not even mine."

Her gaze wanders again, looking back into the past. "He was subtle, subtle and poisonous. He could not act directly against Theodred, nor Eomer, for they were too respected and well-loved. But there was much he could do indirectly, much he could manipulate, to ensure both were away from the Hall as often as possible, unable to even attempt to influence king and council. His eyes were everywhere, always watching..."

From:

theywhowait

He nods, solmemly, understanding how it can be.

"Betrayal from within." He says grimly. "Alas! Theodred deserved better. Although by all reports his death was noble, it does not change that he should not have died at all."

He reaches across to touch her hand and draw her back.

"Watching... you?"

From:

withoutswords

She meets his eyes briefly, and her silence is answer enough. Again she clasps his hand, and this time keeps it held in hers.

"My brother would have slain him, if I had allowed it," she says finally. "Forgotten our laws and accepted whatever punishment was meted to him, even his own death. But that I loved Eomer too dearly to permit, and he was too badly needed. If the snake had ever touched me I might have slain him myself for his daring, and that would have been forgiven. A woman of the Mark is not trifled with, and a woman of the house of Eorl less so."

Her chin is held firm, and there is an echo of the woman who stood on the battlefield, high and terrible and grim. "But while he only watched, we could do nothing. So his eyes followed me, night and day, and it was not only my uncle he spoke to with forked and poisoned tongue."

She meets his eyes again, now focused. "Understand, he wanted me to come to him willingly. His was a dragon's seduction, the more dangerous because he used the truth to ill intent. He could make all things noble seem base, even my own house, until I could see nothing around me without shame and pity. Worse, he could see the truth of how trapped I was, how much I dreaded the future I saw before me, a cage I could not escape. He hoped in the end he would convince me to turn to him by proving only he could see who I was. Even my brother, blinded by his love for me, never saw so far. I loathed Grima, and would never have taken even a step towards him, but I could not deny he saw truly. That was the worst of it, to have my fears used to tie me to him, to be seen clearly only by him who I despised, a bond I could not break. It was not my foolish, hopeless love of Aragorn that taught me despair."

Edited Date: 2018-07-03 11:43 pm (UTC)

From:

theywhowait

Faramir cannot help the dark scowl at the thought of someone, let alone someone so base as Grima Wormtongue, shadowing Eowyn's steps.

"The Worm was not so foolish as to try, then." Eomer would have, Faramir knows him well enough to know. Likely, Theodred would have as well. Certainly, just the thought of it makes Faramir want to track him down himself, but he puts the sentiment aside as useless after a moment. Grima is gone, and good riddance.

He hisses in anger.

"I am sorry." He says grimly. "That one who could see clearly another's suffering and only use it as a whip...! I am so glad he is gone. If only I could erase his words from you as well!"

From:

withoutswords

"Nay. That he desired me was plain, but he could not act on it." She shivers all the same, remembering the look in Grima's eyes whenever he watched her. Many men have desired her--she knows she is fair--but it was never admiration she saw in his gaze. It had been something darker, something that left her feeling covered in filth. That was what had roused Eomer's ire, had caused her discomfort if not fear.

She does not tell Faramir this. He is already angered, and there is no need.

"In truth, I almost wish he had," she says instead, in a lighter tone of voice. "For it would have been most satisfying to cut off his hands. Mithrandir was more kind than I, to let him freely depart; I would have slain him where he stood, for the service he gave to my country and my kin. But he and his master are unfanged now, wherever they may be, and I wish them joy of each other."

"As for his words..." She sighs a little, glancing back at the Meduseld in the distance. "I cannot deny they still affect me at times," she says finally. "It is only since my return that I have been able to think on all this, for there was little time before, and my thoughts were not clear. Much of his poison is drained, and yet...it is difficult to forget.

"But, Faramir--" She looks back to him, and now her smile is sweet and private. "It was not only our king who healed me, when I lay under the Shadow. Surely that you know, for you told the Warden yourself! The worst harm Grima caused me, you have more than undone."

Edited Date: 2018-07-04 09:49 pm (UTC)

From:

theywhowait

"Tis true that he would have reached a swift end, if he had tried." Faramir tries to match her levity and... well, he's only grinding his teeth a little?

Normally he advocates for mercy, but in this occasion...

He blinks and then flushes shyly, reaching for her hand to kiss her knuckles, a soft, reverent sigh on his lips.

"I am glad I was able to bring you joy."

From:

withoutswords

His dark expression surprises her a little, for has never seen him look thus, not even when discussing the great Enemy. Perhaps that should not surprise her in the circumstances, and yet it does. "So much anger, for someone you never met!" she says, looking at the grim set of his jaw. "I have never seen you look so fell."

From:

theywhowait

He blinks and smiles apologetically at her.

"I suppose it has never affected me this closely, before! But even this, it is sad to say, is also the work of the Enemy, e'en if only indirectly, and it upsets me that his reach would be so far with him defeated these last years."

From:

withoutswords

"Never affected you so closely?" She eyes him with something like disbelief--for Faramir was as besieged as she was by the shadows of the Enemy, in his way, harried by Mordor's forces, by the Dwimmerlaik, by his own father's madness that was born of malicious design.

It is like him to be more angered on her behalf than his own, and yet...this time it is Eowyn who lifts his hand, kissing the fingers. "You do bring me great joy, and I hope I do the same for you, for certainly you deserve it," she says quietly. "We both fought the Shadow, before we ever were breathed on by the Dwimmerlaik on the Pelennor Fields. If we cannot undo those years of darkness, at least we may yet heal each other."

From:

theywhowait

His fingers curl fondly around her own.

"We did. And my foes were ones I could strike! Father's were, as well, even if he could not do so directly - where yours...how hard it must have been for you, to be unable to touch him!"

He smiles at her.

"That, I would give all I have, if it would bring you healing."

From:

withoutswords

"You have already promised to give me yourself, which is a treasure beyond measuring." Her thumb strokes the side of his hand. "And you offered me a purpose, which I sorely lacked: a land that needs healing as much as we do, and defending besides. I can look on my own country once more with pride, and look to the future with joy and resolve, where once I saw only a cage."

Her smile is quiet, but radiant. "I cannot imagine what more anyone could possibly desire."