for drinkupmehearties

[shieldofrohan]

It has been most of a month now since Jack came to Gondor's shores, a good two weeks since Faramir returned to Ithilien. Éowyn has meant, every day, to tell him the truth; every day, she has shied away from it. It isn't out of fear for her own sake, or Jack's, but when she comes to speak to Faramir, sees the familiar lines of his face and the gentle look in his eyes, she can't bring herself to hurt him that way. She keeps telling herself the time will come, must come, that she isn't avoiding it but only waiting. Deep down, though, she knows full well there's never going to be a right time, that she'll never tell him if things go on this way, and perhaps Jack was right, perhaps that's for the best. She's kept away from Jack for the most part, giving his care over to one of the serving-men of the household, and she's certainly never repeated the mistake of that first morning back in Ithilien. Faramir knows something is wrong, she can tell that much, but perhaps if she just lets it lie, tries to get back to normal...

It would be easier if everything else went back to normal around her. But it doesn't. It takes her a few days to be sure, to count off the days and know she isn't just being paranoid, that she really ought to have bled by now. She keeps hoping for a day or so after that, but when she comes back from her afternoon ride, strips down to change into a dress, and finds her underthings still clean, hope shrivels to despair.

Faramir is out, luckily. Éowyn dresses as quickly as she can, and tries to steady herself, to wipe away the tears that haven't quite spilled over, before taking a deep breath and heading out into the hallway. Jack's guard is outside his room, and looks at her with clear concern, but when she dismisses him, he goes without argument.

She locks the door behind her, not lingering in the doorway this time but crossing right over to Jack and grabbing his arm. The tears are threatening again, and there's a light in her eyes that isn't remotely one of happiness. "Jack. Listen to me."

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[shieldofrohan]

"He might not." She wipes her eyes again, taking a long, shaky breath. "Or I might bleed too much to miss. Or vomit, or take a fever, or it might not work. Already he suspects something, I fear, from how he looks at me."

Although that might be to do with her uncharacteristic coolness towards him since his return. She hasn't done much more than kiss him, and even that feels tainted somehow, guilty.

She raises her head, taking another long, deep breath and biting back her tears. "This is a sign. I have been a coward over this matter too long. I will tell him, and see what he would have me do. 'Tis the least I owe to him."

[drinkupmehearties]

He drops his hand away from her, then pinches the bridge of his nose and stifles the sigh that rises in him. This has all spiraled out into much more of a mess than Jack would've ever anticipated it would, and the feeling of having it all so wholly out of his hands only makes all the disquiet gnaw at him even further.

Jack finally slides off from the bed, unable to sit still any longer, and wanders over to fireplace. The fire had died out on the grate hours ago, leaving only the trace scents of burnt wood and smoke in its place. He crosses his arms, then leans into the wall next to it, staring at the ashes.

"If you've got your mind set on it, I can't stop you." He's been at her mercy since being pulled from that cell in Minas Tirith and brought here. If she left to tell Faramir, he couldn't do much but sit in this room and wait again. His gaze lifts to her. "Is that the wisest choice, you think?"

[shieldofrohan]

"The wisest?" She looks at him, naked fear and grief in her eyes. "The wisest choice would have been not to let this come to pass. But I am not wise." Heaving a deep sigh, she runs her hand over her face. "It is the only honourable choice, now. The only fair one. If that makes it wise, I do not know."

It doesn't feel wise. But nor does trying to hide it, nor does continuing to lie by omission. Éowyn sniffs, clearing her throat, and tries to regain her composure as best she can. "Jack, I am sorry. For all of this."

[drinkupmehearties]

His mouth presses lightly, but Jack doesn't argue the point. Fairness, honor, neither matters much at all to him in this situation. Whatever provides him the best chance at getting his ship back, his life and freedom, whatever can save his neck from the noose -- that's what interests him the most. But for all that, Jack knows that Eowyn holds her honor and integrity to the same high value. It might not be wise to tell Faramir, in his opinion, but she's doing what's right by herself. And Jack can understand that, as much as he doesn't want to.

"Kind of you. But you've nothin' to be sorry for. It is what it is." He knows he should apologize as well, probably. He's had an equal share in causing this after all. But still, it's hard for him to take responsibility for his own poor choices and nearly non-existent self-control. Even now. "It's been," He bobs a hand, fingers curled, then sighs, "An unfortunate turn of events, I would say." Jack clears his throat, idly fingering the sash at his waist. "Likewise, I hadn't meant to put you in such a precarious position, with your husband and the like, when I came here. It wasn't me intention." Sort of an apology? Intention mattered, right? Even if that'd flown out the window the second the chance had presented itself to him.

[shieldofrohan]

Éowyn's never been the best at apologies herself, which probably explains how she knows that's the closest she's getting to one. It wins a watery smile from her, at least. It's not much, but it's something. It's, frankly, a relief to hear him admit upfront what a terrible idea all this was. It's still her fault, but at least this way, she feels a little less alone in it.

"It is what it is," she echoes, and nods slowly. There's wisdom in that, she knows it. A reminder, solid and steady, that she can't undo what's been done - only go forwards, one foot in front of the other, and let things come as they may.

Smoothing her skirts, she sniffs and gets to her feet. "I should go. There is... there is work still to do, ere Faramir returns." Ere all comes to ruin.

[drinkupmehearties]

"I would imagine so." Work to be done, and for him, more time to himself to spend mulling over this newest, troublesome revelation. Jack pushes off from his place on the wall, makes his way over to her with unhurried steps as she stands and tidies herself. "If I'm not to be present, keep me informed, eh? An' if I am to be there with you when you tell him, I'll see you then."

He moves to draw her into an embrace, then, warm and reassuring. "There'll be better days ahead, luv."

i'll set up a new thread, k?

[shieldofrohan]

The embrace seems like a bad idea, if she's honest - and yet she all but melts into it, holding him tightly, her eyes closing for a moment. It's a reassurance, something solid to hold onto, and she's grateful for it. She clings to him for a long moment before pulling away, her eyes puffy and red, her expression sombre.

"I hope you are right, Jack." Better days ahead. It would be more comforting if it didn't echo what Faramir had said to her when first they met, and so drive another stab of guilt into her. Still, she appreciates the intent, and gives him a faint smile. "I think you ought not to be there. This is best between us. But I shall give you word as soon as I can, I swear it."