Open To Anyone For Anything RP Post 2

[questionablewit]

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Brilliant ideas and clueless flailing all welcome.
AUs and cross-canon, drama and comedy and shipping.
Just throw stuff at me. It's all good.

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[whattheydefend]

Whether it is the amount of time they have spent teasing each other already or simply Eowyn's own unbridled enthusiasm, Faramir is now as desperate as she is. She is still sitting on his knee, which is close to where he would like her positioned, but not close enough.

He grips at her, shifts her so she will wrap her legs around his waist, placing his cock right against her mound. Even with the coolness of the water and the linen of his braies still in the way he can feel her heat, waiting for him...Faramir groans into their kiss, his fingers almost bruising in their grip as he grinds against her. The water splashes around them as they move against each other. He kisses her like a man needing air, as one starving, as though he will never have enough.

surprising but perfect??

[importuned]

[The catch of her breath is soft and the twist of her fingers for firmer purchase is slight. The shift of her heartbeat is brief and the curl of her entire being against Faramir's chest is delicate.

The knowledge, after all, isn't startling. What feels new is having the thought fully crystallized between them.

There's nothing good that can come of actually pondering what life might be like if they could carve something proper out for themselves. The best thing to breathe in now is the simple comfort of being utterly assured that--even here, even now, at her absolute lowest--this remains real.]

I do feel it. Always, Faramir.

so perfect

[whattheydefend]

[It was a heartbeat away from being a proposal. He could still make it one--he would, despite all the barriers between them, even if their vows could only be made privately and kept in secret. He longs to.

But not so soon after such a hurt, whatever it was. He would not have her make such a choice, in his favor or against it, when she has been so recently in a state of turmoil and anguish. It would not be fair, nor honorable, to talk of such things now.

Instead he contents himself with holding her, smelling her hair and listening to her breath, as they are both allowed some moments of peace, of respite wholly unknown in their own homes.

It is a long while before he is able to make himself release her a little, until he leans away to look at her more fully. There is a small sorrow in his eyes, but he is calm otherwise.]

Come. You must be tired, and perhaps hungry. We should return inside and see what we can find to amend both those states.

let them live a soft life

[importuned]

In a moment, sweet my lord.

[He's right, of course. Now that her own body feels less far off, less oddly distant from herself, Ophelia is certain she's quite tired. Now that her stomach feels more settled into herself, she knows she ought to eat something, no matter how little she feels anything close to a pang.]

Please.

[For at least the next few heartbeats, it's far too important to study his features. One hand shifts to join her gaze in a careful examination of the lines of his face, the planes and valleys and myriad components of the man exactly as he is in this moment.]

I'm nourished here.

Yes please.

[whattheydefend]

Ophelia...

[His heart aches in his chest, poised somewhere between joy and pain. Slowly he reaches up again and caresses her face, swallowing hard over a sudden lump in his throat. There is a longing in his eyes that he cannot hide--and perhaps would not even if he could.

Slowly, carefully--mindful that he does not know what happened to her, mindful that she may yet need to push him away, and that if she does he must respect it--he bends forward and kisses her, a soft brush of mouth on mouth, breathing in the sweetness and warmth of her breath.]

For Steve

[endsinafight]

[Continued from here.]

[He hasn't seen Steve face to face in weeks, which really, is a drop to the hat compared to seven decades without seeing him. True to his word, he hasn't uttered a word to Shuri about his impending arrival even if it feels almost strange to keep it from her. When he's not working out in the field or allowing the kids to be entertained by him in whatever way they find amusing, he's usually in her lab. He's taken to bringing her lunch a couple times a week.

Aside from Steve, she's really the only friend he has. Most of the time he's content just to watch her work, occasionally asking a question or two out of curiosity because the girl is smart in ways he'd never known. She reminds him of Rebecca. It dawns on him one day, out of nowhere when they're talking and she tilts her head back and laughs and he has a very clear memory of his little sister laughing at something he'd said.

So he doesn't tell Shuri but he feels a little guilty about it. Mostly, though, Bucky's just anxious for his best friend's arrival because it's been a long, long few weeks, and he never feels completely whole when Steve's out there somewhere, doing God knows what and hopefully not getting himself killed in the process. It's something that he's always had nightmares about, but lately those nightmares have kicked into high gear, and he knows it's probably his screwed up brain trying to work things out, but it sets him on edge. He'll feel better once he actually lays eyes on the other man.

The day of his arrival finds him hurrying through breakfast, feeding the goats, straightening up his hut and putting a pot of stew on to simmer for later.]

Not as stubborn as this one /sobs

[canien]

Doom and Shadow are all around. It's part of life in Middle-Earth, and Canien's learned how to survive despite the odds. Perhaps even thrive, though later. Much later.

She's...almost even glad that her father hadn't lived to be the last of his brothers alive. Seeing what being the last had done to Maglor was enough that she didn't want that misery for her beloved father. He'd lived and died and hadn't been completely over-taken by the Oath as some of his brothers had.

She doesn't stop working, hands knowing what needs doing without conscious direction. But she does glance at Haleth, before returning her gaze to her work.

"I did not have the choice presented to me. This is the life given me, and I would not call it a bad one." A hint of a shrug and she slowly continues. "I believe I would have chosen the Immortal life. It can be lonely, but there is joy to be had, and endless possibilities.

"And now I know I will see my husband again, be it in Middle-Earth or when I sail west, for that is what we promised each other to do."

for grumpycatanthir

[takesnoshit]

Haleth turns the spit, dusting the birds skewered their liberally with herbs. They have already been well-marinaded, but this herb is one best added during the cooking itself, to better bring out the flavor. Her attention is divided, a large portion of it listening for near-silent footsteps in the night, or the sound of hooves, but her eyes stay fixed on her work.

It is three years since she parted from Caranthir, after deliberately goading him into an argument she enflamed to be as bitter as possible. With his temper and her knowledge of him, it had not been difficult, for all his love of her. And at the time it had seemed the best thing, a way to break connection between them completely, and to perhaps also break his love for her. A cruel thing to do, and she had known it at the time. But a mortal love was a milestone he did not need around his neck. Her own heartbreak she could carry, and even the knowledge of having caused his; both were lighter weights than the pain of a doomed love between Eldar and Edain. Or so she had judged at the time.

It is one year since an impossible daughter from an impossible future wandered into Haleth's life, upending all Haleth's assumptions and calling that judgement into question. Many questions asked, and only some answered.

It is three months since Haleth sent a message with the aid of Finrod Felagund, asking Caranthir if he would meet her at a point midway between their homes. It is a month since she left the Haladin to ride for it, leaving her nephew in charge. He is young, but wise and strong, and however this excursion turns our the experience will be good for him. They are in a peaceful place, and he had advisors to keep him from misstepping too badly.

It is a month since Haleth set out, riding alone, as she always has stood alone, save perhaps for a period of a few months when an Elven king courted her, before she broke his heart.

And now she sits, roasting birds on a spit above a campfire, calmly waiting to see if he will meet with her.

[grumpycatanthir]

The fight had been vicious and angry, and despite being somewhat aware that she had been deliberately provoking, his temper has never been his best feature. He has stayed away as much out of shame at the way he reacted, the things he said, as for any other reason.

Finrod's message caught him by surprise, and he considered not going for a long time.

But.

Haleth is mortal

He might never have another chance to apologise.

He rides slowly into the clearing, and wonders what he is supposed to say.

"Haleth?"

[stillcantdance]

[Truthfully, Steve was kidding about not informing Shuri. He knows she wouldn't hurt either of them. Surprise-throw them across a room using their own kinetic energy against them, yes, but actually hurt, no.

And he'd let her throw him halfway across Wakanda if she wanted, out of gratitude for all she's done for Bucky.

Still, it's fun to surprise her and T'challa also, and it's certainly pleasant to be treated as a welcome surprise rather than a problematic one. They invite him to stop by the palace, and he will--but he'll see Bucky first.

Steve doesn't have to ask directions; he knows the way. By the time he's leaning on the door frame looking in, that stew is smelling pretty good.]

Next time you want me to come visit? Just promise to cook dinner. I'll come running.

[takesnoshit]

She glances up at him, even taller on horseback than he is on foot, a shadow in the firelight. Caranthir the Dark, indeed. She cannot see his expression clearly in the twilight sky, but the uncertain way he says her name speaks volumes.

She looks back at the birds, tilting her head as she examines them. "These are nearly done," she says, eschewing any attempt at a greeting. Haleth has never had much patience for such diplomacies, though she can do them well enough when called for. "By the time you have seen to your horse, yours will be ready."

They smell wonderful. A few years of settled life has clearly honed Haleth's cooking skills.

[endsinafight]

[He's just sat down at the little table that he'd actually made himself -- cup of coffee wrapped in his hands when he hears the familiar voice of his best friend. He's on his feet in an instant, smile brighter than usual and full of warmth as he strides toward the door.]

Hell, I'll cook you dinner any time.

[He wraps his arm around Steve, hugging him as tight as he can since he's only sporting one these days.]

Hey, Stevie. How ya been? [He makes no effort to pull away. Steve will have to be the one to do that this time.]

[grumpycatanthir]

He blinks at her, bemused, and slowly slides down.

"Very well." He moves to take off the travelling tack and turn his stallion loose to graze, coming to sit opposite her when he is done.

"You... sent word to speak to me."

[takesnoshit]

"I did." The spit is removed from its place over the fire, and she is carefully removing the birds from it. One plate she hands to Caranthir. She does not meet his eyes. "A thing has happened which you should have knowledge of. But there are other matters of which we should speak as well, first."

She hesitates, which is even more rare than her refusal to look at him. "I owe you apology. I should not have goaded you as I did."

Let them begin with that, before anything else. Guilt is a thing almost unknown to Haleth, as is shame, but she feels their shadow when she thinks of her parting from Caranthir. Whatever her intentions at heart, it was poorly done.

[grumpycatanthir]

"I am listening." It must be serious, for Haleth to send for him after so long. He accepts the bird but almost drops it in surprise at her next words.

"You..." He takes a deep breath, the memory of the fight stirring old anger - but also shame.

"You said nothing that was untrue." He says slowly. "And I had no cause to be as cruel to you in turn as I was. For that, I also am sorry."

[takesnoshit]

It must be deeply personal, for Haleth to have sent for him. Even news of greatest import she might have sent by a messenger. There are messengers she would have trusted. But this is a discussion that could only have been held between the two of them, with no others near.

She shrugs a little at his apology. "You were cruel only because I drove you to it, and that deliberately. I took little hurt from your words." She had taken much more hurt from his own hurt, but that she had expected and accepted as the price of her actions. Or so she thought at the time.

She looks up at meets his eyes squarely for the first time in several years. "I sought to break your love for me, and bent my best efforts towards the task. It was unworthy of me, and unfair to you. I am sorry."

[stillcantdance]

[Steve would come a lot further than he just has for that smile. Before coming to Wakanda what few smiles Bucky had were still shadowed, if not openly bitter. These days they're a lot less edged. They have a lot of scars, he and Buck, inside and out. Seeing Bucky able to smile like that does a lot to heal Steve's scars. He closes his eyes, holding his best friend just as hard for a minute.

He'll never not think that getting Bucky back was a miracle. Even with all it cost them.]

Careful, pal. Make offers like that and you'll never get rid of me.

[The embrace goes on longer than it normally would before Steve finally lets go. His smile is almost as bright as Bucky's, and he juts his chin towards the table.]

Got any more of that coffee?

[endsinafight]

[If he thinks about it too long, or too hard, it would be really easy for Bucky to let himself sink into depths of depression and despair. It's not who he is, though. And whether he deserves it or not, he's been given a second chance here in Wakanda. He's not going to waste it by throwing himself a round-the-clock pity party. He owes these people. And he owes Steve. Because if it hadn't been for Steve, Bucky's well aware of the kind of place he'd be -- locked up in some high security facility with no chance of seeing daylight for the rest of his life. Considering how the previous seventy some years of his life have been, he'd rather not.

So at some point, Bucky made a subconscious choice to live. To get better. To build a life. It may not resemble the life he'd thought he'd have back when he was younger, but it's a good, peaceful life. That's not to say there aren't still issues; nightmares and panic attacks are common visitors but he kicks them out as quickly as he can manage each time they come around.

And the man standing in his hut right now has been a large motivator for all the careful choices he's been making, even if Steve doesn't realize it.]

Promises, promises. [He jokes, grinning back at his best friend when he pulls away.] You bet. Just made a fresh pot. Come on in and get comfy. [He squeezes Steve's shoulder and moves to grab another mug from his cabinet.]

[grumpycatanthir]

Some things are too private. Even out here, with none but the birds and beasts to hear.

Caranthir shakes his head. "I was angry." He says slowly. "But I am always angry. It does not excuse what I said to you."

[takesnoshit]

She looks at him steadily for a long time, her expression unreadable.

"I forgive you," she says finally, then miss her head towards the plate in her s hands. "Eat, before it grows cold."

She suits action to words herself, looking back at the fire.

[grumpycatanthir]

He relaxes, when she says that, the stiffness going out of his shoulders.

"Still the same practical Haleth." He grumbles fondly, but obeys, turning to his supper.

"Thank you."

gaah, phone tags and typos, sigh. sorry about those.

[takesnoshit]

She shrugs. "You could not have expected that to change," she says, offhandedly. If he did, he did not know her at all. Haleth is nothing if not practical and efficient.

As is Caranthir, in truth, though perhaps not to the same extent. One way in which they had dealt well together. One of several.

One of the things she had turned against him, in their argument; pointing out all the ways a lover's arrangement--any arrangement--between them would have been impractical and futile, and flinging them in his face like weapons, with cold deliberation.

No, Haleth does not blame Caranthir at all for anything cruel he said to her. It would be hypocritical, when it was she who began the cruelty, with full intent.

She eats her food quietly, lingering a little more than she usually would. Awkwardness makes a poor seasoning.

Re: gaah, phone tags and typos, sigh. sorry about those.

[grumpycatanthir]

"No." He agrees. Haleth will be Haleth, after all.

He watches her as they eat, seeing the changes time has wrought on her and realising how smitten he is, for it makes her only more beautiful in his eyes.

"What did you want to speak of?" He asks as they finish.

(in this au they never so much as kissed, fyi)

[takesnoshit]

They eat in silence, and she feels his eyes rest on her. She makes no protest. She does not look at him in turn, but he is so bright in her awareness that the rest of the forest around them might as well not exist.

She sets aside the remnants of her dinner, cleans her mouth and hands, reaches for another cord of wood to add to the fire. Sparks fly up into the air.

"It has been three years," she says finally, looking at the sparks floating above the flames. "Do you still feel as you did then?"

o7

[grumpycatanthir]

"It has." He agrees, and raises an eyebrow at her.

"What does it matter if I do? You made your position... very clear."