So that which is not my fault, is that my brother has offended you?
Who: Eowyn and Faramir What: A mostly successful attempt at a date When: recent Where: Places Status: complete Rating: PG-13
It wasn’t a pizza joint, and Eowyn at least didn’t feel overdressed. She’d worn a dress (gasp shut up), a kind of loose summer one that showed off her arms and her legs below the knees, in a pale green color that complimented her eyes and hair. She wanted to make an effort to show that she could look like a girl and didn’t mind looking like a girl when she chose to.
She looked around for Faramir as she entered.
Faramir had been waiting for her and then to be seated, just inside the doorway, off to one side. He smiled and moved closer, until they were standing side to side, arm to arm.
"That color suits you. And you look amazing, as always," he told her, with a sidelong stare and a slight smile playing on his lips. "That includes during paintball combat, in equal measure."
“Thanks.” She decided to give him some kind of chance, considering her talk with her brother. She could be very intimidating and she knew it. Not that she cared if she chased off men, she was better off if a man was going to be scared of her to chase him off.
But she kind of didn’t want to chase Faramir off.
He knew when people had thrown up walls, from personal experience. His family was full of people with their own built in defense mechanisms. Given that she had mentioned before that her parents were dead, as well as knowing what that sort of loss felt like, it wasn't a stretch of the imagination that Eowyn had done the same thing that some people tended to do, in similar circumstances.
And, as much as she was giving him a chance? He was doing the same thing. There was a little tug at the corners of his mind, a sense of deja vu that wasn't placeable at all, and he wanted to find out why. Or even if it was worthy of pursuing further, or if she would rather be left alone. After all, they both had different temperaments, that he had noted thus far. And a large part of him though that discretion was the better part of valor, and that waiting longer would have been the wiser choice.
"You're welcome." He nodded to let the hostess know that they were ready to be seated, and decided to treat this as a nice dinner between good friends. And, thinking better of saying 'ladies first', he motioned with one hand and said, "After you."
Dead and gone and the recent bombing at the mall had brought a lot of those old feelings back to the front. Not that she'd admit that to him. That wasn't exactly first date baggage.
As for why she was even giving him a chance, she couldn't say. She nodded and stepped ahead of him as they were led to their seats. "You look pretty good too." As if belatedly realizing she should compliment him. And even blushing about it.
"Thank you." He was wearing a white dress shirt and black pants, simple but of good quality. And that smile he had on his face wasn't at all slight anymore. In fact, Faramir smiled more openly, and even noticed the blush when he pulled out her chair for her to sit down.
This might not be too bad at all, if things didn’t get awkward. There was something inexplicable there between them, that he wanted to figure out. That’s even if Boromir bellowed about it.
It was really flattering on him and she had to double take when he pulled the chair out. She let him have that, because it didn’t seem appropriate to bite his head off for what was a sweet gesture. Though next time she thought she’d get the chair for him, just to see the look on his face.
She chewed on her lip, and decided she was going to need something alcoholic to deal with that.
Most men would probably look confused or offended at that. Faramir wasn't most men, though, so it was highly likely he would consider it a teasing gesture meant in fun, or that she was merely returning the favor. Since the next time - if there was a next time! - was her choice, she would have plenty opportunities to do that! And even more bonus points someday if she did that in front of Boromir, who would flip his shit, even if Faramir wouldn't think much of it. And he would be amused by that, too. Sometimes, Boromir's temper WAS amusing.
Meanwhile, Faramir had seated himself across from her and they had been given menus. There was a pause as he watched her chew her lip, which was endearing. It wasn't a far stretch of the imagination to note she might be feeling as awkward as he was, which was why he waited until they were alone to say, "I think some wine might be in order. It is better to ask first, so that if you wish to order for yourself, then you may do so. I also do not want to order anything that you may find lacking."
It would be a little bit of both! And that was assuming there was a next time. She wondered if she even wanted a next time. And oh dear Bema she had to do that in front of Boromir. Bema? She made an internal face while keeping her external face composed.
“”Wine. Wine please, definitely need some wine. Whatever you think we’ll like.” Something told her that Faramir probably knew wine better than she did.
As much as she might wonder if she wanted a next time, he wasn't sure he would, either. This could end horribly. After all, she did think he was gay, anyway. And he knew that, but wasn't about to fall into the idiotic male trap of feeling the need to prove himself in front of her or anyone else, because he's got enough brainpower to know that sort of reaction is blatantly idiotic.
"Wine it is," he agreed with a smile and ordered an entire bottle. Expensive. Red. Mellow enough given it's age that it wouldn't clash with anything they ordered to eat. Once that was done, he looked to be reading the menu but was sneaking peeks at her whenever he thought she wasn't looking. Of course, as was the case whenever she was near, he felt that tug at the heartstrings and some vague ghost of something in his mind that offered absolutely no clues, but was not unpleasant either. It was, however, puzzling. In a way where this puzzle piece gave no idea where they might fit into the much bigger picture.
After a moment of comfortable and thoughtful silence on his end, he suggested, "It might be easier if we consider this a meal shared between friends. At the very least, we are acquaintances who wish to know one another a little better. Are we not? Perhaps we should treat it as such and both be set at ease, with little expectation other than to enjoy company and conversation."
Idiotic, but it would be hilarious. She could picture Boromir doing that. It made her snicker a little bit. She raised an eyebrow at the wine choice, it seemed expensive, but she didn’t really know. What she did know was that she needed some badly. Every time she looked at him something tightened inside her chest. “That’s probably for the best.”
Utterly hilarious. There's no debate there, only absolute agreement. And the wine was expensive, and entirely welcome when it was brought out and he nodded in the affirmative, and it was opened for them. He didn’t make it a habit of splurging, like his brother would. A cafe with wifi was normally well enough for him. But this was a different story and, even if they didn’t treat it as a date per se, there was no reason not to momentarily enjoy themselves with good food and drink.
"I think so. Otherwise, we will suffer from long pauses in conversation, which would defeat the purpose of our being here in the first place." He smiled at her, to set her - and himself - more at ease. It wasn't that she made him nervous, but all of the odd feelings he was having, instead. And the pause gave him time to weigh out some options for conversation, of which, he wanted to listen to her, and not do all of the talking, himself. "You mentioned your studies, recently. Are those going well? How long until you get your degree, and what do you plan to do with it, after? Teaching is a noble pursuit, but I do not know if you desire to go that route or not."
That might have to happen now. Just to see Boromir’s brain explode in such a spectacular fashion! “Are you saying we’d be awkward together? Why would we be awkward together? There’s nothing awkward about this.”
Damn it. That was awkward.
Eowyn bit her lip again. “I just started this semester, so I’ve got awhile yet. It was all on hold for a long time. And I’ve had my fill of children. That includes adult children.”
Faramir blinked at the awkward x 3, but didn't answer that. Because it would be awkward acknowledging her awkward, and he was to busy trying to hide the fact that her lip biting was strangely mesmerizing. He had to make himself stop staring, since that would be awkward, too.
"If you have only started, you do have a journey ahead of you. It is worthwhile endeavor, after the long time you've now mentioned." He avoided asking about that also, since it would be better to wait until she was comfortable enough to talk about anything unpleasant, all in her own good time. Instead, he gently inquired, "If you do not wish to teach, which I can assure you has it's trials and tribulations, will you instead write or speak on the topic? Or are you taking the courses out of personal interest, only?"
Inquiring minds want to know.
"I don't know what I want to do," she admitted. "It seemed interesting. I've spent the years since I got out of highschool taking care of a family member, so I've just..." Eowyn shrugged. "I've just tried to get away from all of that. I'm a bit...directionless."
Faramir nodded, before he took a sip of wine. He wasn't ever nervous about talking to people, but he wasn't pushy or persistent about it, either. It was more like playing chess, where there were several possible moves one could make in a conversation. That's why he was quiet for a moment, before saying anything.
"I think it's important to do what one loves," he finally said. "If your heart isn't in it, after an attempt? It is better to move on and find that which pleases you. There's plenty of time to find a direction, and enjoy that as a personal interest in the meantime. There are lots of people who only take my poetry or philosophy classes, for that very reason. I doubt any of them are going to become the next Pablo Neruda or Plato. I only teach it, because I enjoy it. If I no longer enjoyed it, then I would be writing and lecturing here and there, instead."
"It is an equally noble pursuit to care for a family member, and often a thankless task. After all that you've gone through, it's good that you are taking the time to concentrate on yourself. Speaking of time to do things?" He smiled and glanced up at the waiter and then back at her. It was time to order, and he raised his eyebrows as though to ask without words if she was ready, and to indicate she should go first.
Nope. No ordering for her. He wouldn't even dare go that far. As part of their conversation in progress, he knew it was best that she make her own choices.
“When I can find out what I love to do…I just know I love the classes. But how to apply them to the real world is something I’m still at a loss on.” She took a moment to sip the wine as soon as it was ready for her to sip, then ordered something with a lot of red meat in it.
Faramir ordered something similar. Since the dreams started, he started to crave seemingly simpler things, while simultaneously trying not to over-indulge too often. He wasn't at all as active as he was in them, even though it was at a younger age.
"I think that's the hurdle most people face, is the real world application," he agreed, with a sympathetic wince. "It does depend on one's major, and perhaps it will yet come to you, what you might be able to use such knowledge for. In fact, I'm sure you'll find your way. And there are always people around you to seek advice from, should you want it."
Eowyn’s dreams always left her hungry. Not that she was starving in them, but her meals were often richer that she’d like in real life, and real life didn’t quite match up to that. Except the whole dad getting killed thing. Fuck you, dad.
“I’ve got a few years to decide and I plan to take a variety of classes. Maybe I’ll work at a crisis center or something.”
Likewise. The food wasn't the same. At least living with his brother meant that any attempts to replicate it in a kitchen, weren't going to be shunned but praised.
"You know, that would be a very good way to apply what you're learning," he willingly agreed. "Maybe volunteering first to see if you like it, would be in order. You might branch out, from there."
“I’ll look into that. Thanks.” She looked down at her wine, half in thought and half out of an inability to look him in the face. She didn’t like this fluttery bullcrap. She didn’t like it at all. God, she was half-tempted to jump him.
"You're welcome." He watched her for what seemed like forever, but was in fact only a few token seconds. "I hope such talk did not make you uncomfortable, Eowyn. That was not my intent."
“I’m not.. I’m not uncomfortable.” She gave him a look, then tugged on some loose curls of hair. “I’m just thinking about things I don’t want to. It’s not really your fault. It’s been on my mind. But it’s not important.” Eowyn met his eyes (easier said than done, they were so soulful). “How long have you been teaching?”
Faramir gave her an almost pleading look when she faltered, and when their eyes met, he forgot to look away at all. It was the sort of stare as though trying to read into whatever was there for the most subtlest of clues, without fully knowing that he was even doing such a thing.
"Only for a few years. I do enjoy teaching. I spent some time abroad, and had the luxury of taking a lot of other courses, so my time in college was greatly expanded upon." He was still watching her when he asked, "I will speak plainly. I would have you speak your mind, and would never judge you for anything you might say. Not even if it was negative, toward me. Why would you say it's not really my fault?"
Her eyes were like pools of the shallow sea, or waves of grass on the plains. Or some other purpley shit here, wtf Eowyn
“I’m sure you don’t want to hear me speak my mind.” She quirked one eyebrow. “It might make your ears bleed.”
That was so purple, Eowyn. But he's eating it up! Behold: He was quite entranced by the color of her eyes, and that was putting it lightly. It was more like he was lost in them and had forgotten how to speak.
"Boromir is my brother," he patiently pointed out, when he had collected himself again. "I have had many a time when my ears were left bleeding, from both volume and what was said when he unleashed the full brunt of his thoughts on all those in the vicinity. I think that I can weather this from others, including you. By all means, try me."
She grinned at him, like he’d earned some respect++. “Well I don’t have anything now. Except perhaps to say your brother is a colossal douchebag. No offense. But he is.” She’d never admit it, but she’d dreamed about him. Coming through Rohan. They’d lent him a horse, she’d thrown things at him. It had been pretty approximate to real life.
Knowing Boromir, he had probably been one part infuriated at having things thrown at him, and one part disgusted with himself for finding her somehow enticing. If anything, the two halves warring with one another would cause him to leave with greater haste. Or so Faramir would have thought, had he known. But he does not.
"So that which is not my fault, is that my brother has offended you?" he clarified and afterward shook his head, with a smile playing over his lips. "I am not offended. My brother is very much his own person, and...in all honesty...he does not seem overly fond of you, either. But I do not choose the company I keep, based on my brother or father's opinions. If this is all there is on your mind at this very moment, then I can assure my ears are left unbloodied. I expected something far worse, lady Eowyn...she who is most fair of face, but oft prefers a stern disposition. It likely keeps the rabble away.”
He took up his wine glass and raised it a little bit, while telling her, “If we strive only to make polite conversation the entire time, we will soon run out of things to speak about."
“We just get on like oil and water. We’re too much alike, and in no good ways.” She wrinkled her nose at the thought. Then her brows disappeared into her hairline.”Lady Eowyn? I’m not a lady, buddy.” Not here. Though now she wondered, and her eyes narrowed.
He took the eyes narrowing as a bad sign.
"I meant no offense." Faramir shook his head and began to explain, "I do think you are a lady, but of a much different vein. I did not mean that as an affront, only an observation. And as I encouraged you to do, so I will do as well. But I shall tell you why I think as such.
"You are not quiet or demure, which is not the sort of lady that I would seek the company of or be able to speak plainly with. You are strong and unyielding, an equal, and therefore worthy of respect. Nor are you a lady who would be locked in a high tower, unless it is one of your own design. And from that great height you can look out and see far, but others who try to approach are always far below you. It is my guess that all you have endured has made you what you are now, lofty and remote, a stalwart and unreachable beacon that would draw others to you, yet is ever striving to keep them all at bay...."
That train of thought had dredged up memories of the White Tower of Minas Tirith, which was a sobering thought. He had only a few sips of wine and nothing significant enough to muddle his thoughts, which was why they had suddenly snapped back into that other reality. He quieted for a moment and sighed, staring at the wine in the glass like it was a scrying mirror, and it would show him some sort of vision if he didn't look away.
"I’m sorry. I would blame my observations on the wine," he confessed, "but I know it is not swaying my thoughts and words. I am not unaccustomed to drinking. And I would never claim to be correct about such things, for I am not you, nor do I know your thoughts or feelings. Not without your say, for I am no mind reader."
“No, no…” she waved a hand once he was done explaining. It only made her more suspicious. “It’s the way you speak. It doesn’t…” She exhaled through her nose. “I haven’t talked to anyone else about this, but I’ve been having those dreams too. Where people speak more formal, and it’s medieval. I met your brother. He was passing through my country. It’s just...the way you speak.” She finished, feeling lame and useless and not at all worthy of being placed on such a pedestal. “It doesn’t fit this world. But that world. Do you dream too?”
A few blinks and Faramir was drawn out of his thoughts, focusing back on Eowyn, instead. The stare he gave her was an imploring one, as though silently pleading with her not to ask such questions. It was that last question in particular which had him backed into a conversational corner that even he - with all of his good sense and diplomacy - wasn't sure how to get out of.
"I can not offer you a yes or no," he replied, thinking all the while on how to answer, without firmly saying so either way. He could not mention his promise to Boromir to refrain from mentioning it to outsiders, for saying that in itself would give it all away. It was one of those moments where it seemed to stretch on and on, into infinity itself, before he spoke again. "I will say only that I defer to your good judgment and would not argue, should you make any such assumptions."
He raised his eyebrows a little, to let her know that if she caught the hint, it was a tip off. And then he wouldn’t have actually told her. Not exactly, at least. Oh you sneaky Ranger man.
Eowyn looked a little frustrated. She wasn’t sure just what he was implying. Or why he couldn’t just say yes or no. But her judgement told her that he was dreaming, and somehow now allowed to say so. That bothered her, he should be allowed to say whatever he wanted. “... Right. Your brother was some kind of prince or something, an so were me and my brother. We grew up in Rohan.”
Faramir's eyes widened, followed by a long, slow exhale passing over his lips. He nodded, but he didn't say yes or no. He had to keep to his promise not to say if he was or wasn't, and his heart felt heavy because of it. He did not like lying, and so he was left only with hints, to try to ease her frustration. He wasn't as much trying to avoid the conversation, but trying to imply he did, without breaking his vow. It was a juggling act he wasn't sure he could manage, but it pained him to not be able to speak to her honestly about that one thing in particular.
"...sometimes, we have certain things we must hold to," he slowly told Eowyn, with each word chosen with the utmost caution. "I told you that I can only defer to your good judgement, nor would I argue, and as you can see, I am holding to that. Think back, though, on what I told you before. When my thoughts escaped me regarding what sort of lady you are, residing in a high tower. Towers are made of stone. Therein might lie some form of answer, without my really saying so. I can neither confirm or deny any of it, for reasons that are not of my own making."
He only hoped that he offered enough clues and that his demeanor when she had said Rohan, was enough of a clue that he knew what land she was speaking of. Hopefully she got the connections between stone, high towers, and Gondor itself, which meant ‘land of stone’.
And oh, look, the food was there. Finally. Saved by the dinner bell. He only hoped that Eowyn didn’t lose her temper and stab him with a steak knife.
She didn’t stab him, no, but she did stab her steak with a ferocity the poor cow didn’t deserve. Stab, stab, cut cut cut, slice, chew. She mulled over what he was saying while she chewed, the act of eating giving her the time to consider what it all meant. “I hate puzzles. Someone swore you to silence didn’t they.” She held up a hand. “Sip your wine if that’s a yes. Take a bite of steak if that’s a no.”
A very straight-faced Faramir stopped sawing into his steak, even if it was at a much slower and more relaxed pace than Eowyn, picked his wine glass, and looked right at her while he took a very, very long drink of it. His gaze remained the same, even when he put the glass down. He didn't even take a bite of steak, afterward. He ate some of the things on the side, instead.
Truth told, even his own patience at having to remain quiet on the matter of dreaming, was wearing thin. He could understand Eowyn’s frustration and wanted nothing more to be openly elated at finding another person who had similar dreams to himself and Boromir. Even more so, he wanted to talk about them. However, he was a man who was true to his word, especially when it was to his family, and so there was no talking about it, until he was released from the promise by the person he had given it to. And yet, that was why he was quietly eating some potato and avoiding the steak entirely.
She pursed her lips and decided she should punch whoever it was, and if she didn’t know who it was, punch Boromir because that would make her feel better. Generally hitting him did so.
“Thanks. I’m not sure I like mine. I’m relegated to...looking after my Uncle, while his creeper adviser stalks me. And frankly that’s way too close to my real life to be comfortable.”
Still reluctant to break his promise, Faramir instead looked utterly defeated, even while chewing on his first bite of steak. And he made a face like it was distasteful to him. Not the steak, but the creeper advisor. Everything in him was wanting to say something, anything, but all he could do was nod his head. He had not yet even found a way to talk to Luthien on the network, for that matter. That would all have to wait.
But it didn't stop him from talking about the dreams of others. He simply couldn't talk about his own, and so he had some small consolation there.
"There are a fair amount of those on a particular social network, who mention such dreams," he said, still careful about his wording and trying his hardest not to slip up. "I hope you were not plagued by a creepy advisor as well as having to care for your uncle, during your waking hours. That does not sound pleasant, at all. I may not be able to speak on such matters as openly as I would like, but I can listen to what you have to say, if you wish."
“I’m on that network, I thought it was all horseshit until I started dreaming. And then I didn’t want to tell anyone...you’re the first person I told. I haven’t even told my brother.” She knew he’d be upset, but she wanted to see if he came to her first.
"Apparently, and I wish with every ounce of my being that I could say with certainty, it is not horseshit," Faramir solemnly told Eowyn. "I would suggest that you speak to your brother, and I apologize that you told me, first. It was this one thing, which I could not share with you. But I am honored you saw fit to do so, and will return the favor, someday."
In fact, he would tell her what he knew, before telling all others. He silently vowed that, to himself.
"Tell me about this Rohan you've dreamed of," he suggested, "and instead of dire things, concentrate on that which is good. For there has to be some good to every place, despite darker things happening within."
She made a face and stabbed her steak again, eating in silence for several minutes while she threw an Edoras sized mental hissy fit. She could respect Faramir for sticking to his guns but it was really frustrating. Finally she put her fork down. "It's grasslands and plains. We're renown for our horses and our bravery. The golden hall of the king shines in the sun."
There was no way that Faramir took her silence as companionable or comfortable, and so he had little choice but to eat his food, and let the moment pass. Which was just as well, since he felt like he was between a rock and a hard place, between wanting to tell her and not wanting to break a promise to his brother.
It took every ounce of willpower not to say 'Then it is the same as I was told', and he instead smiled in an almost wistful way, wishing he could see it, and not have dreams of a distant father, a brother who took too many burdens upon himself at so young an age, and of a dark shadow that threatened to draw nearer and nearer, that never went away.
"That sounds like an interesting place." Faramir spoke softly and yet very diplomatically. "One that I wish that I could see as you have, when you are asleep."
"It's beautiful. I wish I'd dreamed of it while I was back home. It would have made things so much more bearable." Like an escape. An escape from a terrible life into a much less terrible one.
"I learn to fight with a sword and shield. Shieldmaidens, we call it."
"I know there are tales of shieldmaidens, from Scandinavia," Faramir replied, still being careful not to say too much, but liking the way she spoke so fondly of Rohan. It put a smile on his face. "If you dreamed of learning to be a shieldmaiden? I would rue the day that I would ever have to face you, if you had sword and shield at the ready. I would likely get my ass handed back to me."
“Like that, I suppose. That Vikings show. Only instead of killing christians we’re killing invading orcs and wildmen.” She pushed at her potatoes, thinking of a different place and a different time. How she wished she could ride with her brother into combat and see her enemies driven before her.
"Yes, I suppose it would be much likened to that, with those exceptions," Faramir agreed, pensively watching as she pushed the food around on the plate. "I hope that I have not left a poor impression on you, nor that I bored you, this evening."
“I’m not bored. Just frustrated. I would like to talk openly with you, but you’ve sworn some oath of secrecy.” She stabbed her knife into the remains of her meal. “It’s much more interesting than women’s lit or your teaching!”
He looked properly apologetic, but also a little amused. His tone turned vaguely teasing as he said, "You are the one taking Women's Lit, so I would hope it would be profoundly interesting? In all truth and seriousness, I have not been bored the entire time...and I would have you know that I want to talk openly as well. I gave you the answer to the vow of secrecy, did I not? When the time is right and I am able, I will tell you everything that I wished to tell you at this very moment.”
He finished with a softly spoken, “I suppose that means we will have to indulge in one another's company again, if you would like. If not, then we are still on good terms, and shall see one another during the paintball matches. It is not all for naught."
“I hope it is soon.” She sighed, in mock drama. “Well, I was hoping we didn’t have to end this evening too soon.” She so very casually pushes some hair behind her ear.
"I hope it is soon, as well." He grinned and then poured them both some wine. "It need not end soon, but it must at some point. Is there anywhere else that you would like to go, or shall we haunt this table until they force us out?"
Hoping he’d take the hint, Eowyn nudged Faramir’s foot with her own, and coyly sipped her wine. Just to see his reaction, of course. Mood whiplash!
The hint was taken, but by the way his eyes widened and his face started to feel like it had been lit on fire, he wasn't sure what to do with it...or the mood whiplash. It was a good thing he had been between sips and had finished eating, because he might have choked.
"Umm...Eowyn," he said in a very hushed tone of voice, while his gaze shifted from side to side. "Please do not think that I am not flattered nor that I would not desire to partake in whatever you have in mind? But I fear that I would still have things progress at much slower pace."
She looked at him, incredulous. “Really?”
"You went from frustrated to flirty," Faramir pointed out, raising his eyebrows a little bit. "I am not precisely sure what I am supposed to take that as, nor am I positive what it is that I am..."
What he was feeling was that it was all somehow familiar, without any knowledge as to why, and so the two sides of reason vs wanting were at war with one another, to give into the seemingly familiar flirting or refrain. But there was no way to explain that, that seemed satisfactory. It all sounded lame even before words could be spoken aloud, and yet he didn’t want to lie about it, either.
"I am thinking it's complicated," was what he settled with, with a grim look on his face as he tried to sort through it all. "I don't want to cause problems when I misinterpret your actions, while I'm sorting through what I'm...sensing. Or feeling. Whatever it is." He closed his eyes and sighed. "I don't know what it is. I’m sorry."
Well that went well, Eowyn thought. “I see.” As though she was agreeing with his unspoken sentiment of how lame it sounded, she pulled her foot back and then knocked the rest of her wine back in one gulp. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to pee.”
Then she got up, and headed to the ladies room, before she further embarrassed herself.
He doubted he had misinterpreted the act but didn't want to assume. Lately, his little insights into people and their motivations had become moments where he felt like his thoughts were being slapped around and he felt a little bruised by the experience. So by the time she stood up, Faramir had drawn in a breath and his mouth open to say something. He promptly thought better of it, she might need a moment to collect herself, and instead he solemnly nodded. And as soon as she walked away, Faramir applied one hand to his face and there it went, in a downward facepalming rub of massive proportions.
Indeed, for Faramir, there was not enough wine on the planet, at this point. At least he had some time to try to set her at ease, when she came back to the table. Or he hoped she would come back to the table. He wasn’t sure yet.
Suddenly, Faramir squinted a little with a smile tugging at his lips, because Eowyn had blatantly announced she was going to go pee. Definitely not classic lady talk, but 100% shieldmaiden blunt.
'Going to the ladies room' or 'powder room' was something that would never come out of Eowyn's mouth. She'd grown up on a ranch in Texas, and she could keep up with the best (or worst) of the boys.
Still, she did need a moment to compose herself (and she really needed to pee). Because she didn't like how she was reacting, and she didn't like feeling hurt. It was irrational, and he hadn't meant anything, but it still stung in ways she couldn't articulate.
When she returned, it was like nothing was wrong, though. She sat down. "So. Dessert?"
Before she returned, he had been contemplating simply standing up, waiting for her outside the restrooms, and laying one hell of a kiss on her that probably wouldn't end for a good few minutes. And that, in itself, gave him pause. It wasn't as though they knew one another well enough to do so, although he had gained some insight, and he liked her already. But turning her down had also caused that sinking feeling in his chest again, right down into his stomach, that usually accompanied deep feelings of disappointment or guilt.
So when she sat down and asked for dessert, he shook his head very slowly. There was a kind smile on his face as he told her, "None for me. I think I've had my fill, for the evening. But I welcome you to do so, if you wish. That way, we might talk more. After all, I feel as though I owe you an apology."
Oh Faramir, if you wanted to get into her dress that would have done it. You might get slapped, THEN into her dress, but it would have done it.
She rubbed the back of her neck and looked at him. "Why don't we get some cheap as fuck ice cream at Mcdonalds and drive around with it and chat."
He knows. Somehow, he knows that, all too well. And that was why he refrained, because of the need to brain it all out, first.
"Your car, or mine?" he asked, which basically was a big fat yes. And there he goes, holding up one hand for the tab. In fact, no, out with the wallet and there goes a lot more cash than necessary, onto the table. Someone's getting a huge tip. "Let us take our leave. We'll figure it out, outside."
He might kiss her, yet. He wanted to. Desperately. But the sooner that one of them had their hands on a steering wheel and was trying to eat ice cream at the same time? The better.
Eowyn was less likely to brain things out and more likely to act. While she still thought he was a bit on the weak side, he at least kept to his word, which was more than most men could say.
"Yours, it's nicer." She eyed him, though, like 'really, I was planning on helping pay' but then said. "I'll pay for the next date."
He would be the first to humbly declare that he wasn't strong and leave that to Boromir to tell the entire planet, in loud and blunt terms. In fact, Faramir still had zero idea of what he was capable of, in full. No leader of men, no great archer with a longbow, no good with a sword, had no idea he was capable of having willpower on par with the likes of Maiar and Elves when faced with consuming ring things, and he knew nothing of how insightful he could be, which was on a level that could really read the hearts of men, enough to tell that skulking creatures had murdered before.
So he was, at the least, a man of his word. Weak or not, to whatever degree. And that is why he nodded to her suggestions, as he stood up, and held out one hand to her. If she had eyed him, he had merely looked agreeable about the matter and the prospect of another date.
"As you wish," he replied, with a smile. "I only hope that I can keep my eyes on the road."
"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked, as they walked to the car. She had every intention of letting him drive, and she sounded so innocent. It was the tone, that if her brother was present, he would warn Faramir to run away screaming.
"It means," and here is where Faramir, in one step alone, bounded from his usual first date directly into three months from now, "that I will likely spend as much time looking upon your fair face, than I will concentrating on driving. Thus have you turned a seemingly idle quest to obtain ice cream, into a much more dangerous prospect."
He led her to the car and opened the door for her. Even if there had been warnings, Faramir wouldn't turn and run away, either screaming or in silence. A large part of him said this felt right, even if the smaller part insisted that this still did not make any sense at all.
"I'm sure you're better than that, Faramir," Eowyn replied, sliding into the car. Her face was a little red, but she could blame that on the wind that was non-existent. She didn't know why he did this to her. She hated it.
"Then I shall insure that your faith in me is not misplaced."
Conversely, Faramir absolutely did not hate it. He liked making her blush, but not by doing so in a cruel or ruthlessly teasing manner. He closed the door and rounded the car, getting in and starting it. It was a very quiet car, seeing as how it was entirely electric.
Faramir took a moment to find the nearest McDonalds using the gps. While he entered it in, he said in a very even and measured tone, "Let us find the nearest cheap as fuck McDonalds, as the shieldmaiden so wishes it. For her face is fair, but her way with words is blunt, indeed."
He glanced over with a grin, as it calculated their destination. Fine. The smile was a little teasing. His brand of teasing is apparently of the ninja variety, and so subtle it was likely missed by countless other women.
She rolled her eyes, but Faramir got a laugh out of her. "They lace that stuff with crack, I'm pretty sure. I'll try not to make a mess all over your fine car seats." Was that blunt enough for him?
He laughed too as he started to drive, and she even got an eyebrow raise out of him while he was laughing. For many a long moment of what could only be described as companionable silence, it seemed like he might not reply at all. But when they hit a red light, he looked over to her and said, "I know not where the crack is concerned? But perhaps I would not so much mind the mess."
So there. Read into that. Was it a sexy comment? Was it that he knew where to take the car to get ice cream off the fine car seats? WHO KNOWS. It is left vague on purpose, so he can gauge her response. Bwahaha.
Eowyn swallowed and smirked, but looked straight ahead, like her mind wasn't going places. "That's awfully forward of you, Faramir. I could have just been talking about melted ice cream, and not what you might make melt in my panties."
She still had a straight face, but she watched him out of the corner of her eye.
"Forward? But I might have meant the ice cream being a trivial matter," Faramir countered in an innocent manner, all the while trying to keep a straight face as well. Even if this too felt familiar and the banter seemed so natural, his mind was simultaneously asking WUT R U DOING, SIR?
She probably caught him glancing over at her, while he was driving. The McDonalds sign was already within view, when he added, "I'm afraid that anything else you meant, must be elaborated upon so that I might understand. Otherwise, I may not catch your meaning."
He cracked a grin and tried not to laugh, because something told him that he was going to get smacked. At least it wouldn't be for outrageously rude comments meant as jokes, so hopefully it would be more of a playful thwap and not a fist to the face.
She waited until they were actually stopped in the drive-thru, then smacked him in the arm. “You’re an ass like your brother, you’re just much more refined about it.”
Unable to manage a straight face any longer, Faramir started laughing and took the smacking without bothering to lean away.
"Ah, but I deserved that and I know it. You will find no protests against it, from me. Boromir, however...." Faramir gave her a knowing look and rolled down the window to order. "Would you like anything else besides crack-laced ice cream?"
"No, the ice cream is fine." She leaned back in her seat, rolling her eyes at him again. At this rate her eyes would disappear into the back of her head. Faramir had that effect on her. But she liked that.
He liked it as well. The eyerolling might cause other people to think it was a rude gesture. Not him. It was endearing and he was accustomed to it from students and his brother. Undaunted, Faramir ordered the ice cream and pulled the car forward, paying for it and then holding a cone out to her.
"And here is the ice cream that the Lady of Rohan has requested," he said, holding it out to her like it was made of gold and coated in diamond dust. "Does it meet your satisfaction?"
She took the ice cream and flicked her tongue at it. "Mm. This is perfect." A lady wouldn't do this, but she didn't want to be a lady. She wanted to roll around in the dirt and play paintball and make a cute guy squirm. She wanted to rebel.
So she licked it again, much more slowly this time.
Those were but a few of the things Faramir liked about Eowyn, so it is a good thing. Even that she wanted to rebel, or punch his brother, probably hate his father, and made him wonder if he could get past the walls she had built up around herself.
But also? Good gods. It felt like he forgot how to breathe while he was watching her do that.
It was only until one of the cars behind them laid on the horn, that he realized where he was again. He coughed to clear his throat and actually did shift a little in the seat, before driving again. That's right. Eyes on the road. EYES ON THE ROAD.
“Is there anywhere you would like to go, such as the beach or a pier, perhaps?” he asked. “Or would you rather eat your ice cream while I’m your humble chauffeur?”
Eowyn was enjoying herself. Maybe it wasn't the most feminist thing to do, but half of feminism was having the freedom to do that kind of thing if one chose to. And she chose to flirt because she was pretty sure he couldn't stand up right now. "I don't know. Surprise me." She looked at him with her eyes, while she devoured that ice cream.
Faramir knew from experience that feminists still date and weren’t all entirely made of man hate. It's just that they had to date someone who was intelligent, didn’t feel threatened by a strong woman, and thought of that woman as their equal, and not someone to get in the damn kitchen and make them a sandwich. And bring a beer back, while they were at it. So there.
"You certainly are fond of the element of surprise," he noted, making the huge mistake of glancing over at her, before having to look back at the road. He headed toward the beach, because a walk by the ocean seemed like it would be nice and the fresh air might do him some good, as far as clearing his mind and senses. "You mentioned wanting your dessert and to speak more, and so...the beach, it is."
Eowyn would ask Boromir to make her a sandwich. Because that would be fucking funny. "It's the best element. Why beat your shield when you could catch them off guard." Some icecream dripped onto her chin, and she wiped it off with a finger, then licked it off of her finger.
"I must confess that I am more subtle than...." His voice trailed off when he had glanced over at her, and he had to look right back at the road again. "...than being boisterous."
He didn't drive faster or erratically at all. In fact, he looked as though it was another day at the office, because he had to look like it was another day at the office. When the ocean came into view and they reached their destination, Faramir was relieved to park the car and get out. He stood with the door open, eyes closed, and drew in the absolute deepest breath of ocean air. Willpower. He has it. Even against gold doom rings and untamable, golden-haired shieldmaidens. Go him.
Wyn tossed the remains of her cone in the trash (she only ate about half the cone itself) and started down towards the beach. The breeze rustled her dress around her legs as she moved, and she let the smell of the ocean wash over her. She wished she could swim, but this place wasn’t private enough for that.
No, it wasn’t private. Unfortunately. He had a odd sense of deja vu watching her like that, with the wind in her hair and moving the hem of her dress. Again, it wasn’t placable, and yet it was so striking a sensation, that he had to shake his head to clear it. For a little while he let her walk slightly ahead of him, until he decided to catch up to be by her side.
"This has always been a good place to think over a great many things. Even if the hour grows later," he told her, looking out at the sea. "I enjoy looking out at the ocean or at mountainous places, from time to time. Sometimes after classes, when I have troublesome students, or after a family debate. It helps to put things in perspective."
There was a vague sense of deja vu for Eowyn too, as though she should be standing somewhere else atop a wall in a white city but she couldn’t place it. “That never really worked for me.”
She turned towards Faramir. “I should cook for you some time. I think I’d like that.”
DANGER! DANGER! TOXIC COOKING AHEAD, MATEYS.
"Everyone is different. If we were all the same and if what worked for one, worked for all? Things would be much simpler, but also profoundly boring. That is not a world that I would wish to live in." Having said that, Faramir turned his head to look at her, not registering this offer as a bad thing to be wary of. Like he should have. Instead, he fondly smiled at her. "If you wish to do so, then I would be honored. Perhaps our next date, for I find that I do enjoy your company. I only hope that you feel the same."
Maybe she'll cook up some stew. :D :D :D
Maybe she'll cook up some stew. Yes! Her stew was fantastic! She'd briefly toyed with the idea of becoming a chef. Maybe she still could.
"I still want to buy you a meal out, but maybe we can try that in home thing first. It might be easier to chat, I think. While watching some silly movie on the couch."
That sounded wonderful enough that his fond smile turned into a grin. That sounded fantastic. She seemed like the sort of person that would put the whole of her being into an endeavor, and so anything she offered to fix for him would probably be amazing.
"I think we have time to do both things," he pointed out, "and I would say yes, to both. I would also like to take you hiking, someday. And my cousin has a boat, which I'm sure she would sail us around on if I asked."
“That might be fun.” She hoped she didn’t get seasick. Eowyn held her hand out to Faramir. “Come, walk with me. I don’t want to go home yet.”
"There is time to do so, and if not? I shall make time," he agreed. "I also think that the lady is in luck, for I do not wish to part ways yet, either."