kingdomcomes | MINGLE: THE SNOW QUEEN

[Honestly, she'd never admit it, but Éowyn's surprised to find she's made it past round one. And now, things have shifted. On the one hand, she no longer has to worry about being deflowered - it's done, it's over, and any dishonour is hers to bear now.]

[On the other hand, Kaphlar?]

[If Remus was the man she was glad to be paired with, it pales in comparison to how much she does not want to be paired with that arrogant, rude, self-centred asshole. She'd much rather punch him in the face, frankly, and she's quite tempted to if things go south.]

[But if she has to lie with him, she's going to do it on her terms. In this case, that means showing up at his door in the early hours of the morning, barging in without knocking, and standing there with her arms folded.]

I understand a challenge was set. Do you plan to meet it?

[If all Kaph does for a few seconds is stare at her in disgruntlement, it's because he isn't quite awake yet, which should be made clear enough by the fact that he's still in bed when she barges in.]

... Jesus. [He sits up, throwing his blankets aside. Looks like he sleeps shirtless, even with the cold.] Give me a minute.

[He vigorously rubs his face before slipping his legs out from under the blankets as well - oh, looks like he sleeps in boxer shorts, actually - then he turns, gets up and runs a hand through his hair.]

... Looks like you're pretty eager after all, huh?

[The small grin on his face still looks sleepy, but if the attitude is coming in, that's a sure sign he's waking up.]

[She looks at him scornfully, weight thrown on one hip, lip curled a little.]

Eager to have done with this foolishness. I have other duties to attend to.

[She's not moving towards him, though. Not just yet. Instead, she regards him carefully, waiting to see if he'll move first. This feels, already, like a fight. She may as well treat it as one, if she's not going to lose her advantage.]

[There's a lithe kind of tautness to how she's standing, despite the apparently casual stance. She's ready, even if she's not entirely sure what she's ready for yet.]

[Maybe it's the fact that he just woke up, but he doesn't quite get why she's standing there like she's about to grab him in a chokehold or something. He crosses his arms.]

Hey, hey, you look a little tense. This your first time? I've got nooo problem with taking the lead, just so you know.

[Saying that, he takes an innocent step forward.]

[She snorts derisively, one eyebrow raising.]

Submit to the likes of you? A lech and a lout, with neither manners nor honour to recommend him, to claim the lead over Éorl's blood?

[Éowyn's step is larger than his, her chin held high. He's taller than her, but she pulls herself up to her full height and stares him down, somehow managing to loom anyway.]

You have not the strength for it, nor I the patience. I like you not, I fear you not, and I want you not. Now, make the distasteful less distasteful, and hold your tongue, if such restraint was ever in your power.

[Ah. So that's why, he guesses. After a moment during which he takes her words in, he straightens up - chest puffed out, the illusion of a slouch maintained only by the curve of his neck as he looks down on her.

For once, he doesn't look mocking, or smug, or irritated, but dead serious.]

Alright. Listen up. Think whatever you want of me, I couldn't possibly care less - but I'm gonna tell you this:

I might be a lot of things, but I'm not a fucking lowlife who needs to force himself on ladies. As far as I'm concerned? If you don't wanna fuck, then we're not fucking.

But I guess [a sneer.] you might feel like you have no choice. Which, by the way, isn't my fault! But that's why you're trying to make this into a little fight, right? To hold on to your dignity or your honour or something like that?

Welp, if it's a fight you want, I'll give you one. Come on, come on. Ladies first.

I have a choice. [She's rankled by the suggestion that she's angry with him to protect her dignity, and besides, she doesn't like to be thought of as a woman whose decisions are not her own.] And I made it when I put my name to this contest, as I make it now.

[She moves fast, one leg going to loop around his and hobble him, a hand grabbing his hair to pull him down to her eye level. Her anger - not all of it at him, it must be said - all but burns off her.]

But I will not have you think I stand against you because I am ashamed, nor that it is because of what we are here to do. I stand against you, Kaphlar Kinra, because you are mannerless filth, and I will not pretend otherwise now.

[Caught off-guard, he stumbles, letting her move him as she pleases - which, it must be said, is an outcome he's not very pleased with. He says, in a voice dripping with bitterness:]

Well, isn't that cute? You remembered my name!

[And then, gritting his teeth, he tries to elbow her in the face.]

[The gritted teeth are as much of a warning as his movement, and Éowyn still has a hand free. It comes up instinctively to ward off his blow, and as she rolls back away from his elbow (probably pulling his hair more than a bit in the process - it's not her aim, but she's not actively trying to avoid it, either), she jerks her leg against the back of his knee, to try and knock him down.]

[This need not be violent, she tells herself, but if she's being honest, she wants it to be. There's plenty to be angry at in her situation, and it feels cathartic to let it out on someone, especially when that someone is an unrepentant ass. A light sparks in her grey eyes, a kind of savage joy. He's not going to make this easy.]

[Good.]

Do not over-flatter yourself. There are few enough of us here to remember.

[Shit, she's not bad. Kaph grimaces when his hair is pulled, then just about hisses when he's knocked down.]

Well, you've gotta admit, little lady, it's not the simplest name out there!

[He wants to gloat, he wants to lord himself and who he is and what he had over her, but first he has to win this... and he's all too aware that it won't be easy. Stupid Mistress. If he had his his powers...

... At least he still has long, swift legs, and one of them is very free right now. He jerks it upwards, aiming to jab his foot into whatever part of her body is in reach.]

[She doesn't pull away from this blow in time, although she does shift enough that he kicks her in the thigh rather than the crotch. It still makes her hiss with pain, her grip on his hair loosening as she stumbles back instinctively.]

[That's going to bruise. But she's been bruised plenty of times before, and the important thing is not to let him take advantage of her weakness. She doesn't give herself more than a split second to catch her breath before she lunges again, aiming to carry them both down to the ground, but with her on top.]

Nor the hardest to master.

[She's strong, that's for sure - strong enough to bring him down. But now he knows this is a fight, he's marginally more prepared to fight back. About as soon as he hits the ground, he pushes back, aiming to roll her over so that he can be the one on top.]

Fffunny that way, isn't it? Just how I like it! [His voice is strained by his effort, but goddammit, the high ground needs to be his.] Real complex, huh? Full of layers? That's the kind of guy I am, little lady.

[She expects him to try and roll her over, and she's steadied herself against it, one hand on the floor beside his head, her knees on either side of him as she straddles him. His height may be something of an advantage, but she's no lightweight either.]

[With her other hand, she scrabbles for his wrists, aiming to pin him more solidly.]

Call me that again, filth, if you dare.

[Éowyn of Rohan does not take kindly to condescension.]

[There's a grin on his face, but it can only really be called such a thing on a surface level - it's stretched, hostile, borderline manic. If nothing else... he's having fun. Won't be so fun if he loses, though.]

Lit-tle la-dy~ [And he continues pushing back, laughter escaping through his gritted teeth.

He's having fun, alright. Maybe it's thanks to that - or maybe he's just enjoying the view? - that a noticeable bulge is growing in his boxers.]

[She grunts, and backhands him across the face. It's not gentle. It does have a cost to her stability - she teeters a little, without that hand to steady her - but she doesn't regret it. If he laughs at her again, she thinks viciously, she'll beat him bloody.]

[It doesn't help that she's very much aware of her arousal. With how she's straddling him, his dick pressing up against the inside of her thigh, it's hard not to be. It makes her angrier. It also makes her determined to turn this around on him.]

If I beat you senseless, I should imagine I win.

[Alright, so maybe it's not quite as funny when she actually slaps him. His laughter dies down, even if the condescendingly amused look remains.]

Now how are you going to get anything done if you knock me out cold? We're supposed to fuck, yeah? If you ask me, you grabbing my dick and shoving it in you doesn't count.

Nobody asked you.

[He has a point, though, much as she hates to admit it. This is still a sex competition. Beating him to a pulp, while satisfying, won't be a victory. Killing him might, but that's going too far. Even she has to admit that.]

[She grunts, reaching down between them to grab the bulge in his pants and squeeze, not at all gently.]

Yet it seems I am progressing on that front, in any case. Are you not ashamed?

[Okay, at least this means he probably won't be walking out of this with a concussion or a broken rib, so that's a plus. On the other hand, ow, fuck, Jesus, careful there, LADY.]

N-Nothing to be ashamed of! I'm a healthy young guy who just got out of bed!

[In retaliation, he struggles to free up a hand and reach around to squeeze her ass. Classy.]

[She grunts low in her throat when he manages to free his hand, snatching vainly after it, a fraction too slow to stop his fingers digging into her flesh.]

[The trouble is, the only other time someone's done anything like that to her was when she was fucking Remus in the first round, and that's not doing anything to help with her awkwardly rising libido. Besides, there's something about the roughness of it, the coarseness and rudeness, that speaks to a deep need for wild, feral excitement.]

[One hand is still cupped around his cock. She gives it another squeeze, lighter this time, to remind him that she can hurt him a lot more than he can hurt her right now, and leans in, her face close to his.]

Let me be clear, Kaphlar No-Honour. If we fight, I will win. If you test me, you do so at your peril. I do not fear to hurt you.

Take your hand off me, and I will let you up.

[If only he still had claws to show, he could respond to her reminder in kind. But he doesn't, so his grip loosens when she squeezes - although his hand remains cupped around her cheek.]

"No-Honour"? Now that's pretty insulting, don't you think?

[And hell, even if he IS the scoundrel she thinks he is, he doesn't believe her for a second. He spreads his fingers; discouraged as he may be from outright grabbing her, he still wants to enjoy some pretense of ownership.]

Anyway, what're you planning to do once I take my hand off?

What I came here to do.

[She sits upright, still pinning him, and shakes her hair back out of her eyes.]

Which is hard to do while I am dressed, or so I am told. And, as I have no desire to linger...

... That's fair.

[His hand slides down - he's going to let her go, alright, but not without feeling the shape of her thigh. He grins mischievously.]

You sure you don't want to let me help out with your clothes, at least? Not even a little? There's so many ways we could keep this interesting...

[She fixes him with a withering glare, and brushes his hand off her muscular thigh.]

"Interesting" is not what I seek here.

[Yes, it is. It always is. But that's not the point.]

[She lets go of his wrist and pushes herself to her feet, tensed to fight if he shows any sign of aggression. Her eyes are fixed on him as she reaches up to unfasten her corset, lips pressed together.]

If you wish to help, then concede. Or, at the least, shed your drawers and go to the bed.

[Kaph rolls his eyes. What, so she's looking for a boring fuck? Yeah, right. She's just saying that for the sake of shutting him down, he bets. Oh, but he'll make himself come out on top yet.

Raising his hands in what's supposed to be a pacifying manner, he slides out from underneath her and sits on the edge of his bed. Then, giving her a very deliberate look, he teasingly pulls down the side of his boxer shorts.

It's clear that he means for the reveal of his hipbones to be tantalising - and, to be fair, there's something pleasant about the shape of them, and about the happy trail that is now more clearly visible - but maybe he should have thought harder about whether or not this was a bad idea.]

[She seems unimpressed. She is, in fairness, quite good at seeming unimpressed. Truth be told, there is something quite attractive about the look of him there, but it's more than counteracted by what an ass he's being about it.]

[For her part, she makes no attempt to be tantalising or flirtatious, just unlaces her corset briskly, sets it down along with her breeches in an altogether businesslike manner, then straightens up and shakes her hair back. Only the slight blush on her chest and cheeks gives away her awkwardness. She doesn't mean to show any weakness or uncertainty, not to him.]

[She is, in all fairness, a very good-looking woman. Naked, the firm muscle of her belly and her thighs is clearer; she is slender but not skinny, pale skin taut, a coarse thatch of golden hair between her legs.]

[Her hands rest on her hips, and she considers him for a moment, her expression hard.]

Éowyn vs. Kaphlar

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