Another Year, Another Open RP Post

[duckshaveears]

Currently offering: Crowley, angel!Crowley, Haleth. Will update this if that changes. If you want one of those three, have at it.

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Faramir!

[freo]

Éowyn tugs her robe a little more securely about her frame before reaching for the small glass bottle on her vanity, grateful for the warmth of the fire humming in the hearth. Autumn is beginning to win over summer and the nights already have a chill to them. The scent of lavender and rosemary -- bounties from her beloved garden -- is clean and calming as she pours some of the oil into the cup of her palm, rubbing it into her hands and sifting her fingers through the loose waves of her golden hair, letting her thoughts wander as she devotes these quiet moments to her nightly bedtime routine.

They have been Lord and Lady of Ithilien not quite yet a full year. In that time, they have made plenty of progress, setting down roots in this fair but untamed land, building a permanent settlement and making secure the area. Just because the Dark Lord was thwarted does not mean there is no more danger. Ithilien was wild and ungoverned for so long ere the defeat of the Enemy that change takes its time; yet they are both of them committed to doing what must to see it through. They have toiled hard and there is still more work left to be done, but Ithilien is now a growing town with established infrastructure; each month bringing with it further growth. Éowyn can hardly wait to see how their home will look like in another year.

In another year other things may have changed, as well. At least that is Éowyn's fondest hope. Wagging tongues may have gossiped and wondered at the lack of heir even after nearly a year of marriage, but Éowyn was not worried. A child would come when the time was right. They have certainly labored faithfully to see that goal realized, she thinks with fond amusement. Separate bedchambers might have been the norm for many couples of their rank, but not them! Be that as it may, for a while now, she has been beset by inconvenient spells of faintness and bouts of nausea she's tried not to pin too much of her hopes on. After all, there are other causes for such things than a pregnancy. But her monthly blood should have come weeks ago, and so she thinks she can now judge with some certainty that she could indeed finally be carrying their first child.

She has only just picked up her hairbrush and pulled the bristles through her hair once or twice before she catches the familiar footfalls of her husband, a smile on her lips as she watches Faramir enter their chambers through the mirror sat on her vanity. She almost laughs at herself, knowing how the expression on her face must look like; she is still utterly besotted by the man she's privileged to call her husband, her heart skipping at the thought of telling him the news.

"Good evening, my Lord."