Lothiriel dreams of far away places. (garland_maiden) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2014-05-20 14:09:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, eomer, eothain, lothiriel |
Who: Eomer, Eothain, Lothiriel
What: A fancy dinner date gets crashed by someone's drug-addled jerk roommate.
When: Recently!
Where: The Hobbit restaurant.
Rating: Low to Medium (for Eothain’s mouth).
Status: Complete!
Dinner at The Hobbit was a lavish affair, with three acts and seven courses. That was why Lothiriel was sitting across from Eomer,dressed in an expensive little blue cocktail dress, that perfectly matched the color of her eyes. It also left little to the imagination because - while it was tasteful and expensive - it left her shoulders and most of her legs bare. She even worse strappy heels. Enjoy the vast expanse of pale skin and curling toes, Eomer. Enjoy that a lot.
“I think this place is fantastic,” gushed Lothiriel, excitedly, before taking a dainty sip of wine. “I’m really very excited for the main course. Aren’t you, Eomer?”
And then she playfully winked at him, while taking another sip of her wine. It was oh so convincing! Just the way she wanted it to seem!
This was completely out of Eomer's element, but he found that he didn't really mind. Not so far, anyway. There were worst things to deal with than the company of a stunningly gorgeous woman and some very good food. He wasn't much for wine, but he liked the glass that had been suggested for him so far.
He took another sip, and nodded his head - completely convinced that Lothiriel was into him and grinning like a loon, "I sure am. And this place isn't too bad. It's not near as fancy as I was afraid it would be, and I don't seem to have a care in the world while I'm in your company anyway."
Lothiriel was super convinced that Eomer was just too embarrassed to say that he needed a cover for his super hot man affair he was having, and she was super eager to help their love bloom. That's why he didn't come out and admit to it, and let her play along so it was like a flirt joke between them. It was so cute!
She reached across the table and lightly thwapped her fingers against the top of his hand, like Eomer had been caught with his hand in a cookie jar.
"The secret is to think of these places as being like any other place, only the food is in much tinier portions. It's so many courses because it's for flavor and not to stuff yourself until you feel like you'll burst. And you have to dress a lot nicer and get a reservation, but that's such a small issue, anyone could do it if they don't mind a wait."
Or paying extra to get in earlier. Ahem!
"I hope that I might be on the list of things you still care about?" she teased. There was a wink, because she is so in on the big secret. Teehee. "If not, I might pout."
And here, Lothiriel mock pouted, to demonstrate on what that might look like if it were to happen for real.
It didn't look at all like Eomer minded being thwapped on the back of the hand like he was some kind of naughty child. In fact, he had a grin on his face as if he was exactly like a child who'd gotten away with something. Maybe he deserved that thwap. And he liked his women semi-violent - or at least he liked them sassy enough to thwap men they thought were out of line. Even if it was only playfully.
So he continued to grin, and that grin only widened more when she started pouting. Because at that point, Eomer wasn't even thinking about how adorable she looked when she pouted, and was instead distracted by how badly he wanted to kiss those wonderful, pouty lips of hers, "Ma'am, you are definitely on my care list, but I meant that when I'm with you, all the negative cares fall off my shoulders, and are instead replaced with the good kind. But you can keep on poutin' if you want to, because that only makes you more attractive."
Of course, if left to her own devices, Lothiriel wouldn't be pouting and would be a little play wild, herself. It might not be violent, but she would rather let her hair down and leave it windblown, and be wearing capris and her little sailing shoes and windbreaker coats. But this wasn't the time for that. It was supposed to be helping Eomer out and playing along! That's why she pouted for a moment longer until the appetizer course arrived, and then waited for the waiter to leave. It wasn't right to play flirt in front of the staff!
"Really?" she very innocently asked, in a flirty-go-sexy sort of way, really hamming it up. It even looked bashful the way she was sitting there, prettily posed, not a hair out of place. "You're surprisingly romantic, Eomer. And I'm so happy I can help you, too. I don't want you to have anything else on those manly shoulders of yours, other than maybe me thrown over one of them again."
Eomer tried not to take offense at the idea that him being romantic was surprising. It probably WAS, he didn't exactly come off as the type of man for flowery words or any of that. But he did believe in treating a woman right, and respectfully. And he couldn't help but speak the truth. Lothiriel made him forget all the bad things.
He smirked at her instead, while one of his hands fumbled on the table between the four different forks that had been offered to him, "Well we can definitely arrange another trip over my shoulder whenever you're feelin' up to it. I don't mind playing the ruffian on your behalf, since you seem to enjoy being a very fighty damsel. The kind that would probably affect her own escape and then kick my behind, if given half the chance."
A pause, and then he said, sounding a bit grumpy, "How many forks does a man NEED?"
He had a good idea of what Lothiriel was all about, even if he had zero idea that she still thought it wasn't totally serious. It was just that she was very convincing, thanks to hanging out with her upscale theater and artsy friends.
"Maaaaaaaaaybe I am," was Lothiriel's sing-song reply, with a sly wink, "and maybe I wouldn't mind if you carried me home, after dinner."
She never got the chance to explain about the forks, because there was someone standing next to the table, wearing one of the jackets the valets were required to wear. That someone pulled a chair away from a nearby table, turned it around, and sat down at their table, flicking some of his long hair back over his shoulder with a shake of his head. The smell of marijuana under a dab of patchouli hung around Eothain, and he was eyeing Lothiriel suspiciously.
He continued eyeing her suspiciously when he curtly nodded and finally bothered to say, "What up, y'all."
Your dinner party done got CRASHED, yo. Courtesy of Eothain, who got the valet high as a kite and traded his hoodie for the valet coat to get inside. Hells to the yes.
Lothiriel was quiet and blinky. And then: “Helloooooooooo. Who’re you?”
“Eothain. What the fuck’s on that plate. It’s like a fucking booger with a green leafy thing stuck to the top of it.”
And we are all glad that Eothain is not doing restaurant reviews.
The smell of incoming Eothain was impossible to ignore, and Eomer smelled his 'friend' coming before he even saw him pull up a chair. In fact, he froze in the middle of fumbling for a fork, look of doom suddenly forming on his face. The look of doom remained there as Eothain pulled up his chair, and then Eomer glanced in the direction of the doom, and let out a long, resigned sigh.
"Hello, Eothain. That's an appetizer course, and this is Lothiriel, and you weren't invited. So of course you'd show up. Why does it always have to be like this? Weren't you happy at home? Taking my stuff and getting Cheeto Crumbs everywhere!?"
"Shit, son. A bag of cheetos would be more to chew on than the crap they're giving you here," Eothain said, pointing down at the plate in front of Eomer. "What's next? A rabbit turd balanced on a fancy cracker? Awesome."
Lothiriel laughed, raised one hand, and promptly bapped Eothain upside his head with it.
"People are eating. Don't be a horrible ass if you want to join us, and stop taking Eomer's stuff. It's rude. No." She thwapped him one more time, lightly. "Don't do those things to your roommate. No."
"What the fuck."
"The fuck is that if you want to stay," Lothiriel very cheerfully told him, "you can share some of our little dinner foods, and you can have this little booger with a leaf on it. But you have to try not to use foul language and be nice to Eomer, or I'll shun you forever and you can't eat my booger appetizers ever again."
".........." went Eothain. It was one of those tense moments where it was impossible to tell if he was going to headbutt his way through the tabletop and storm out, flipping tables the whole way, or if he was really thinking hard if it was a trick of some sort. "Hand me that fancy fucking booger."
Lothiriel smiled and scooted her plate over to Eothain. Success! For now.
The entire scene had been crazy and tense, and Eomer had spent most of it with his eyebrows raised up into his hairline. He didn't even realise he'd been holding a breath until he watched Eothain back down. His lips might even have been turning a little blue, but the color returned to them and he grinned. He grinned so wide that it almost took up the entire width of his face. He couldn't believe it.
Also, he was in love. He was in love with this woman, who had the guts to thwap Eothain upside the head and make him do the right thing. Not even Eomer had the guts to do that sometimes. He mainly figured Eothain wouldn't listen if he did.
"... I can't believe that actually worked. That was amazing. Look at you, puttin' my roommate in his place. Hell, I usually just pretend he's a mental patient on some kind of day trip. I kinda wish I'd had you over my place to scold him earlier now, like you'd suggested."
"What the hell, dude. What's that mental patient crap about," Eothain grumbled while chewing on his booger and fancy leaf appetizer, only to get a spoon poked into his cheek as he chewed. He narrowed his eyes a little while staring straight forward, perhaps only placated due to the food in his mouth.
Lothiriel, also known as The Wielder of the Spoon, was not aware that Eomer was in love with her. No, she was blissfully ignorant of that fact, but thought he was cute and huggable and highly flirtable with. Sadly taken up with her loud cousin, as well. Speaking of loud?
From the time she was born, she had been the baby of the family, the only girl, and was used to being teased or having pranks pulled on her. It had made her wise in the ways of men type things and also wise in the ways of getting them to behave with threats of excessive force, all done with a diplomatically sweet disposition before she split shins or elbowed ribs, until the subject of her disapproval had relented. Ultimately, she had become uniquely qualified to put up with rude, loud-mouthed, blunt, and grumpy people.
"I should have! Your roommate needs to chew with his mouth closed a little bit more," Lothiriel happily told Eomer, still smushing the back of a spoon into the side of an unenthused Eothain's face. "I'm not asking for perfection, but I don't want to watch the booger working its way back toward his uvula. Thank you!"
Eothain grunted. He didn't chew with his mouth closed more, but he did swallow the 'booger' and then stared down at the empty plate.
"They don't give you enough shit to eat here." Eothain received a pat with the spoon upside his face, took hold of it, licked it, and then put it down in front of him like it was his, before turning his attention to Eomer. "Anyway. Why the hell are you going and doing shit and not telling me what you're doing. That's an asshat move. I didn't know you had a hot date."
Lothiriel didn't mind the loss of her spoon. That was because she was smiling at Eomer like a cheshire cat with cards and canaries up it's sleeves. She was SO in deep undercover in a faux romance and it was simply romantic, because Eomer hadn't even told his roommate about it. She felt like James Bond, with boobs and a pricey dress. <3
"I didn't tell you I had a hot date because it's none of your damn business. It's not like you tell me where you're going or what your plans are. You leave when you leave and you're home when you're home. And most of the time when you are home you're shut up in your room doing god knows what. I mean, I sniff at the door to make sure I don't smell a dead body in there." Eomer snorted and pushed his own appetizer onto Eothain's plate. At least he could do that for his friend.
He fleetingly wondered how much more of tonight's dinner was going to make it into Eothain's stomach instead of his own. And why it was he hadn't seen this coming, "Lothiriel's teaching me how to handle fancy dinners, since I might have to go to a few of those while I'm guarding a politician. Thanks to you, I'm really only learning how it is she deals with rude little bitches that crash parties."
His tone was mostly teasing, though. This was the kind of stuff he put up with when it came to 'thain, and he was never as annoyed as he made himself out to be.
"Cool, thanks." Eothain didn't look even 0.0012% concerned over being a rude little bitch, as he chewed on booger #2. In fact, he shrugged and made a 'eh' noise like it wasn't half bad, and neither was the idea of learning about fancy dinners. And that was why he wasn't budging, even when the waiter stopped and stared at him like he was supposed to leave.
Instead, Eothain turned his head, chewing like he had bubblegum in his mouth, and said, "Hey. Drink would be awesome. Thanks." He pointed over at Eomer and then at Lothiriel, announcing proudly, "See? I got some god damn manners."
"Only by the itsy bitsiest margin," Lothiriel noted, discreetly nodding to the waiter so a scene didn't happen. When the waiter rolled his eyes and walked away from the table, Lothiriel grabbed her glass and had a swift swig (not even a sip) of wine. "Mmm. Well! I think maybe, if your roommate is going to be crashing parties..."
"This isn't a party. No drugs, no topless chicks, no party," Eothain corrected, slouching down in his chair.
"...crashing dinner parties," Lothiriel continued, undaunted. "I think it's an excellent idea that he learns a bit about them too. First of all, you don't slouch. So please sit up before I take a fork and stab it right through your balls. It's less than elegant but you only seem to understand threats."
Eothain glared at her. She glared back. After another tense moment he shifted up about one inch and no further, and Lothiriel looked appeased. Enough that she turned her attention back to Eomer with a bright smile.
"I'm sure he's up to no good, but to each their own! He's your friend, and he obviously cared enough to come here and check in on you for whatever reason, and so he's a friend of mine, too. Right?"
"Yeah, what she said." Eothain only had a minor eyerolling moment. If the girl was important to Eomer, then she was important to him too. He would have to keep an eye on them both, between girls coming over, getting wasted, and selling a whole lot of stuff he shouldn't be selling.
If Eomer hadn't already been falling hard and swiftly in love with Lothiriel, the way that she just threatened Eothain would have done it. There was a kind of moony, worshipping look on his face when Lothiriel turned her attention back to him, and he smiled like an idiot, "I'm surprised you figured out his language so quickly."
He glanced at Eothain and then back to Lothiriel, and added, "Actually, threats never work with me, but maybe I wasn't threatening the right crap. Now I'm learning more than just what fancy dinner parties are like."
Eomer was also very grateful that Lothiriel knew how to turn a scene into... well, something that wasn't a scene anymore. In fact, the next time that the waiter came by, he pulled out the cost of another plate and handed it to him, "Can we get a third setting here, please? My friend is having a very bad week and going through some rough times. We're trying to help him through it."
Even though Lothiriel wasn't catching on, Eothain caught onto what was going on and stifled a belch that sounded chunky, that's how puke worthy that moony look of Eomer's was. The problem was that Eomer, in his dreams, was the boss. He was trying to not wreck his friend's good thing with the girl, even if there was still tons of leeway for flipping shit and generally being his same old asshole self.
"What he said. My life's shit, and I need food the size of a cheeto to get over it," Eothain told the waiter, and the way he looked was, at least, semi presentable, after he tied his hair back with a ponytail holder.
"And we will need so much wine to console him," added Lothiriel, holding up her almost empty glass like that was a hint. In a discreet whisper, she told Eomer, "It's not that difficult to figure out. It's the Keep It Simple, Stupid principle. Small words, big threats, followed by small talk to make it all better."
Then she made a little shhh noise like the waiter and Eothain might overhear and gave Eomer a sly wink and a fond smile.