for drinkupmehearties
May. 25th, 2017 10:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shieldofrohanIt 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."
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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Date: 2017-09-15 08:42 am (UTC)It doesn't take much too long for his pace to quicken, for his breaths to become more shallow, quicker. The events from earlier -- combined with the delay in getting his own gratification -- certainly have helped with that.
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Date: 2017-09-17 10:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-09-18 09:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-10-05 07:03 pm (UTC)Let this not end, she thinks, or maybe prays. Let this never end.
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Date: 2017-10-08 10:15 am (UTC)It's a peaceful, comfortable sort of calm. The sort that Jack isn't sure he's felt for a long while, perhaps not since some time before Panem. So he allows himself to enjoy this for now, revel in this -- in all three of them together, sweaty and sleepy and satisfied.