Open To Anyone For Anything RP Post

[questionablewit]

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[whattheydefend]

"I have complete faith in your ingenuity." He smiles down at her, his gaze openly affectionate. Much as he would like to kiss her, it is such a joy to hear her voice and feel the warmth of her hand that he is not truly discontented.

At her question he smiles more broadly, looking around. "They are magnificent. I wonder you have had time to write me at all these past weeks, so busy you must have been preparing this. Exalted as your guests are, still you have managed to do them all justice with such greeting."

He catches Lord Elrond's eye by chance; the elf lord smiles at him with an edge of knowing on his face, and Faramir actually blushes a little, suddenly more aware that his reunion with Eowyn is being scrutinized, albeit mostly by kind eyes. Still a bit pink, he turns back to his betrothed. "And the plains are beautiful. They reminded me very much of the sea, which I hope to show you someday."

[freo]

Èowyn has to glance down at their joined hands at that warm affection in his eyes, smiling and blushing slightly. His praise of her work garners a soft, breathy laugh from her, smiling more widely herself when she looks back up. "I am happy to hear you think so well of my home and labours both. You are not the only one who has done with little sleep, of late! I must admit, I was a little anxious despite my best efforts-- who wouldn't, when expecting such company as this? But all seem content."

And that is good. It was important for her to do this to the best of her ability, to leave all with a good impression on Èomer's kingdom. She does not miss Faramir's sudden self-consciousness when he looks back, coming herself to realize there are observing eyes aplenty in the Hall, for all that she cared not earlier in her zealousness to embrace him. Shaking off a moment of hesitation over it, she smiles and squeezes his hand gently.

"I should like to get to know your uncle and cousins a little better while we are all here. It seems I owe Lord Imrahil my thanks over his part in seeing me to treatment back on Pelennor."

[whattheydefend]

"You will have your chance." Faramir's smile grows a shade warmer, for he is glad to hear her say so. "They will be remaining here with me, when the others continue their journey north. My uncle has told me of his part in your recovery--for which I have fervently thanked him!--and he is all the more pleased because of the results, for we value each other highly. He is looking forward to speaking with you."

His smile turns rueful. "As are my cousins, though they may have less altruistic motives, I suspect. They spent the entire journey here teasing me without mercy, for my mooncalfing. I trust they will be more restrained with you, but if they are not, we may need to find allies. I am sure Merry and Pippin would oblige us."

[freo]

"I am glad," she says softly, her smile even softer. Of course she is happy to know any and all family that Faramir has left; especially ones he thinks so highly of. Too, she looks forward to making his family hers as well through their marriage. When Faramir speaks of his cousins, Èowyn laughs once more.

"Do not worry, Èomer and Théodred saw to it that I grew up with a thick skin for some teasing! To say nothing of returning fire. Perhaps we should recruit the dear hobbits to our cause regardless? It does not hurt to be prepared, after all."

For all her usual bluntness, let it not be said she cannot be cunning, too! She purses her lips some and dips her chin, attempting to hold back her mirth that nonetheless sparkles in her eyes and tugs at her lips. "I confess I was hoping your cousins might tell me of any embarrassing stories from your youth that you might have kept secret from me thus far."

This is a headcanon I have I am sorry except not really.

[whattheydefend]

"That is unfair, lady." His eyes twinkle at her. "And unwise, for it will prompt me to retaliate in kind, and uncover tales of your own youthful misadventures. Your brother has already warned me of once when you were wroth with him, and put slugs in his armor..."

approved!

[freo]

Èowyn stifles a snort of amusement, only halfway successfully, her cheeks flushing a little pink at having her mischief so revealed by her own brother. "Why, if you meant to shame me with such knowledge, you have not succeeded," she insists anyway through a laugh that now breaks through despite her best efforts to hold it at bay. "For I stand by my judgment that my brother had it coming."

Short timeskip seemed called for, will edit if you wish.

[whattheydefend]

"That, I do not doubt," he says dryly, a tone that says more about what teasing he has had to endure from his lawbrother-to-be than the stories themselves will do when he has leisure to repeat them to her. Still, it is not said without amusement or affection. Èomer is not another Borormir, cannot take the place of his own lost brother, and should not--but Faramir thinks they will do well as kin, if only because they both love and value Èowyn so highly. While they have that in common, all else will fall into place.

At that moment, to Faramir's quiet resignation, one of his own cousins comes to interrupt and be introduced properly. Faramir flushes a little as Amrothos makes a point of telling Èowyn just how besotted his cousin the Steward is, and reveals that he has been writing poetry about her, whereupon Faramir pretends to clout him upside the head and set Amrothos' own sister on him in revenge. This is apparently a potent threat, for the man subsides, and they all talk happily for a while.

And then another interruption, and another, and the hours pass. Pleasantly, he cannot deny that, but not as pleasantly as he would wish. Still, even though custom and courtesy should dictate he manuver around the room more, he does not leave Èowyn's side. Anyone wishing to speak to either of them must speak to both, for he will be damned if he parts from her now after so many months of impatient waiting, even if all he may do is stand with her and make small talk. If she must abandon him to fulfill her duties as hostess he will accept with good grace, but otherwise he will remain.

this is perfect!

[freo]

They spend many an hour trapped thus, in polite (and sometimes less than polite and more teasing, but always conducted with fondness) conversation, even though both would prefer to be somewhere more private after all these months apart. Èowyn is of similar mind; now that Faramir is finally here in Edoras, she too is loathe to part from his company.

They put up smalltalk and teasing, and yet some more ceremony. But also talks that are genuinely pleasant; Èowyn in particular is happy to spend a while with the hobbits, and meet some more of Faramir's cousins, despite the friendly ribbing they inflict upon poor Faramir. Lothíriel is a beauty comparable to Faramir's late mother, Finduilas, from what Èowyn recalls of her portrait back in Minas Tirith. Sharp, too, despite her relatively young age. Èowyn does not fail to notice Èomer's gaze lingering on the girl in a couple of occasions, but that is an observation to be considered at a later time.

Eventually, Èowyn has to step away to tend to the servants, albeit with much reluctance. However, before leaving, she vows to Faramir that she would find him again as soon as she could. It takes her better part of an hour to fulfill her promise, though, getting waylaid by a few guests on her own as she tries to make her way back to Faramir. She thinks, eventually, that the crowd has sated the sharpest of its curiosity about herself and Faramir for now; it may also have something to do with the amount of ale, wine and mead consumed as evening begins to win over from the day, and other amusements and distractions arise. Be that as it may, Èowyn is intent on taking advantage of being less observed, though she does not think -- with a Hall full of Elves, no less! -- that none do not notice. She simply does not care if they do.

Finding Faramir once more in the now slightly more boisterous crowd, she takes his hand in hers anew and tugs gently, urging softly with a smile that is only slightly mischievous, "Come with me."

Meduseld is not overly large-- next to the main hall, the building hosts little besides rooms for the King and family, and important guests. Faramir had been right in noting they would have had easier time finding a more private spot back in Minas Tirith. As even Èowyn is not so brash as to take Faramir to her room, she leads him out of the hall entirely and onto the porch. The fresh air feels nice after the slight stuffiness of the crowded hall, and she leads Faramir away from under the gilded arches of the entrance and toward the side, onto the wide, stony ledge that edges the entirety of the House.

"Shall we take a turn about the Hall, my lord? The view from up here is quite breathtaking," she asks coyly, her true intention having little to do with architecture or views and everything to do with getting away from under the doorguards' -- and all others that might step onto the porch -- gaze.

<3

[whattheydefend]

It is with great reluctance though no surprise that Faramir watches Éowyn return to her duties when she must, for all that he has her promise to return as comfort. There are distractions almost at once, many of them meetings and conversations he would have welcomed at other times. But the time passes more slowly without her. More than one friend slyly tries to draw him into a drinking game, but he refuses; he has a good head for alcohol, but that is not at all the sort of intoxication he would prefer.

Besides, Éowyn would be justly furious, the suspects.

He is rewarded for this restraint when she returns, while the crowd is watching Merry and Pippin singing a song atop a table--both are great favorites in Edoras, it is obvious, and happy to make the most of it. Few notice when he and Éowyn slip away.

He breathes a sigh of relief once they are free of the pressing crowds, and another when the cooler night air hits their faces. Not so very cool, for it is late summer, but still it is welcome after the heat of the hall.

As soon as they are outside Faramir entwines her arm with his, the same way they used to walk together in the gardens of the House of Healing, and if his hold on her is tighter than would be seemly, well, it is dark. "By all means, my lady, I would welcome the fresh air." Formal words, but with an undercurrent of laughter lurking underneath. He doubts they fool the doorguards at all, or that they are the first to use this excuse this evening, but it is no matter.

[freo]

She doubts those same things herself, but similarly is hard-pressed to care. They may have more trouble finding a private spot here, but Èowyn likes to think that in return, their little escape is given a bit more leeway and leniency than in Minas Tirith, perhaps. She takes his proffered arm happily, holding on just as firm and giving him a smile that has a rather conspiratorial cast to it.

The bright summer nights have already started to darken this far into the season, but there is still enough glow of lightness even after sundown in the horizon for them to walk along unhindered, when they leave behind the lit braziers of the porch and pass under the shadow cast by the Hall proper, as they trek slowly along the side of the building. Too, the windows high up on the Hall's walls throw out some illumination from the fires and candelabra within.

It is almost rather romantic, to Èowyn's mind, coupled with a thrill of a secret (however dubious the secrecy) little tryst.

"Well, my lord. We are as alone as can be contrived, for the moment," she points out a little playfully, glancing sideways at him and admiring the warm light that plays upon his noble features, cast down from the window they happen to pass underneath just then. "I believe you said earlier something about greeting me more properly..."

[whattheydefend]

He needs no further invitation, having only waited this long from the certainty that she would prompt him in good time. With a small, delighted laugh he turns towards her, cupping her face in his hand. There is no need to tilt her mouth up to his, for she is willing and waiting when he takes the kiss they've both been thinking of for hours.

It begins chastely enough, a hard press of lips on lips, the scent of her breath filling his nostrils. If she deepens it he will follow suit gladly, but he leaves that choice to her. His other hand he keeps tightly clasped around hers, pressed between their chests, fingers entwined.

[freo]

No need at all, for Éowyn receives his kiss with a beatific smile that lingers even as his lips press against hers. Her free hand settles against his back, her arm curving around his middle as her other squeezes gently at his between them. She is not content with such chaste display for too long, however, not with how long they have already spent apart. Opening up, she parts her lips for him after a moment and darts her tongue along his bottom lip in invitation.

[whattheydefend]

He gladly opens his mouth to hers, relaxing further into the embrace, his hand slipping from her face to her shoulder, then around her in turn so they both can hold each other close. His tongue darts against hers, and the kiss takes on more heat as they explore each others' mouths, tasting and taking.

By the time he stops he is breathless, his arm tight around her, and he rests his forehead against hers. "My Éowyn," he murmurs. "I said that seeing you would feel like coming home, and so it does."

[freo]

Éowyn is equally out of breath once their kiss ends, her heart galloping in her chest like one of the mearas roaming the plains of the Mark. Leaning a little further into his embrace, she closes her eyes for a moment as their foreheads touch, smiling at his words that cause a warm little flutter of pleasure somewhere behind her breastbone.

"There is no place I would rather be than right here, in your arms." She squeezes his hand and lifts her other one up to cradle his face, relishing this moment where she does not have to devise excuses to touch him-- yet knowing, with regret, that such time is limited. "And how my heart rejoices to finally be there, after all this time. It felt like a small eternity, being apart!"

[whattheydefend]

He turns his face in her hand, kisses her palm. "There is no place I would rather be, than holding you." He kisses her mouth again, deep and fervent, months of longing finally having an outlet beyond mere words on paper. Never had he felt the futility of language more than when trying to tell her how much he missed her. "Rarely have so few months seemed so long, or passed so slowly. Already I do not know how I will bring myself to endure more, when this visit comes to an end."

[freo]

She closes her eyes into the heady kiss, loosing a little moan into the contact. All her daydreaming of Faramir's kisses cannot come close to the reality, much to her conflicting delight and chagrin both-- for how is she to go without them again, once he must go back to Gondor?

"I know how you feel, my love. I am loathe to imagine that day, myself. Would that we were in a position to simply run away," she jests wistfully with a little laugh, laying her head on his shoulder like she's wanted to do for weeks and months, knowing it in her heart that this is where she belongs. For all her long search for her place in the world, she never expected to find it standing beside such man of Gondor. "But, the next time we will lay eyes upon one another is to wed. And then, we never need be apart again, least not like this."

[whattheydefend]

He draws a sharp breath at the sound she makes, which seems to shudder through him. That is something he could not truly imagine in their time apart, though he tried.

In truth none of his memories or imaginings match this. He cradles her head on his shoulder, resting his face against her hair. It is as though a tension present in him all these past months has loosened and dissipated, one that he had not even realized was there until now, when it is gone. "No," he agrees. "Not if I can possibly help it. I would have you with me always, given my wish."

He laughs a little, astonished, his breath stirring her hair. "I thought I knew how much I missed you, but I am already learning I was wrong. Only now am I made whole again, with you here. Not merely in my heart, but..." He struggles a little for words, for he does not mean only desire for her--though he feels that too, certainly, without question. But that is not why his arms tighten around her now. "It is as though something has clicked into place. I cannot explain it more."

[freo]

Éowyn tightens her hold on him as in return, exhaling a deep, shuddering breath. It is as if he is pulling out every feeling that her own heart also houses and giving it form in words.

"I feel it also," she says quietly, taking a moment to arrange her own thoughts before attempting to respond properly. "I said in one of my letters to you the rebuilding and renewal here is part of Éomer's legacy, rather than mine-- though I take joy and feel pride in everything we have accomplished already. And yet I feel as if I stand on the outside, looking in on it all. It is well, however. Part of me will always belong here amidst these wild plains, but I know that this is no longer my place."

Carefully, she lifts her head from his shoulder enough to look him in the eyes, smiling softly. "You are home to me now, Faramir."

[whattheydefend]

There is only one possible response to such a statement, and with a low cry he makes it, seizing her mouth again and kissing her passionately. More than once over the past months, and particularly while riding across her own country, Faramir has wondered if she has doubts or second thoughts...or if not doubts, at the least regrets about leaving her homeland, in which she justifiably has great pride. The plains of the Riddermark are as wild and beautiful as their lady, and he could not help but fear she might find herself unable to leave them. Could not help but wonder if he is enough, can offer enough, to offset such a loss.

Her words are not merely a compliment or confirmation, but a balm--and beyond all that, they are an honor, one that humbles him. It is his turn to show rather than tell his heart, as best he may. He clutches at her, brushing his mouth over hers again and again, until they are both breathless.

[freo]

Faramir's ardent kiss muffles her gasp of surprise against his lips, followed by a tiny moan as she tangles her free hand in his hair and returns the kiss with as much hunger and passion as he is pouring into the contact, shaking her to her very core. This is different from any kiss they've yet shared; it is a seal to a pledge, an expression of joy, love and devotion all in equal measure. They give and take of each other until they run out of breath, forced to break apart by necessity to draw in air only.

"I take that to mean you are pleased," she jests breathlessly once she's had a moment to recover, her slightly swollen lips curved in a beaming smile.

[whattheydefend]

"Pleased..." A near-silent laugh of astonishment, and he kisses the top of her head, resting his face against it. "I am awed and grateful, and can only pray I may be worthy of such a gift. I would have you feel ever thus when you are with me, and not regret the things you have had to let go in order to make it so."

He kisses her forehead, then her nose, which is a little silly but makes him smile. A piece of absurdity to set against an otherwise almost painfully meaningful moment. "I love you. Above all else do I love you. I have wondered what I would do if you found you could not leave the Riddermark after all. But I think I could be content living in a tent on the plains, or a cave in Ered Nimrais, or anywhere, if you were with me."

[freo]

"I do not think we need to content ourselves with a tent, even less a cave!" she laughs merrily, playfully wrinkling her nose a little when he kisses the tip of it. She grows more serious as she goes on, after a moment.

"At any rate... what is left for me here? I shall always love the Mark, but Éomer will marry sooner rather than later, as he must, and his queen shall take over what duties I now oversee." Dipping her chin, she looks down at their joined hands, speaking quietly. "Sometimes leaving is for the best, no matter how bittersweet. My memories of home aren't all such happy ones, as you know. Nor do I know if I see a future for myself here as I am now, even had you not asked for my hand."

For ever did Rohan and the culture of the Rohirrim tear her in two opposites-- a warrior she was not allowed to be, and the healer she herself previously disdained the role of. To be both in the Mark? She doubts it possible. It is something she has only recently began to think about, and something she certainly has not spoken to anybody about until now. Éomer still feels guilty for not seeing the full extent of her discontentment and despair, Éowyn knows; she will not add to his sorrow by speaking of such things to him.

She lifts her head again and smiles; a small but sure, content smile. "Nay. I have not a single doubt. I would follow you wherever, you won't be rid of me that easily!" Smirking now, she adds impishly, "But that said, building a home and a legacy of our own in Ithilien sounds a fair deal nicer than a musty cave."

[whattheydefend]

This, he understands; he too has too many difficult memories of his home to counter-balance the joyous ones. He will not be leaving Minas Tirith behind as she will Rohan, not when he will remain so nearby and his duties require him there so often. But he is not sorry to be not living in the Citadel. Nor does he think Eowyn would have been happy there, in truth.

He lifts their joined hands, kisses her fingers, his mouth lingering on the knuckles. "Then let us build our own home, my love. A new beginning in a new place, with no bittersweet memories to haunt us. Let us both begin anew." His lips curl against her fingers, and his eyes twinkle at her above them. "Though I am glad you do not prefer a cave, for they have already started the building of our house, and it would be a pity for the work to be wasted. Particularly as we spent so much paper in planning for it."

[freo]

"Nothing on this earth would make me happier than that," she all but sighs with a soft smile, meaning every word in earnest. Indeed, she can scarcely remember ever hearing of anything that sounded fairer to her. Her own lips curve further at his remark, a deep feeling of contentment settling warmly within her breast. Squeezing his hand gently, she happily gives in to her urge to replace her fingers with her mouth, tugging their joined hands down and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. She does not know when the chance to do so next presents itself; best to make the most of this moment. "The dwarves are welcome to keep their caves. I would rather have a garden-- our garden."

[whattheydefend]

"Nor I." He nuzzles his nose against hers, smiling softly. "To share my life with you, and to do so in Ithilien, which I have long protected and loved...to have the both of us working together to rebuild it and restore it to its beauty, and to know you find the work fulfilling..." He shakes his head a little. "There is nothing more I could ask for in this life."

His smile suddenly turns a little shy, which is unusual for Faramir. "Well. One thing more. But there will be time to speak of children once we are wed; it seems a little premature just yet."