They finally make it to Éowyn's place.
- It's getting (comparably) spicy here, so if that's not your cup of tea, please skip it!

Disclaimer: I don't own Tolkien's work.

(I've got my love) to keep me warm

It was probably a really really bad idea, taking him home like that. Probably also kind of despicable - but well, no, not really. After all, she had been honest with him, sort of at least. And he had said he didn't care that she had looked him up or who she was.

Besides, her business project had been cancelled, Éomer had just reminded her of it, so she would never have professional contact with him. Like ever. So that night couldn't hurt. Right?

Éowyn had been truthful when she had said she never did that - that being one-night stands. Seriously, she really didn't. She didn't do casual sex, and since she currently didn't do relationships, she didn't have sex at all. Not much of a loss, if you asked her, her former partners had left her rather disillusioned with this sort of physical activity.

Right now though, there was this man was in front of her, next to her, with his arms around her, and she really wanted more. What more entailed, she wasn't quite sure, but suddenly it seemed like a fun idea to find out.

He had looked adorably shell-shocked at the mere idea of a casual fling, which somehow made her think that this wasn't his usual style either. However, when he had asked for clarification, unknowingly alleviating one of her biggest fears, she couldn't help but kiss him again. Communication was sexy and he certainly seemed quite decent at it. Éowyn also had the feeling that she would enjoy the night whatever it would turn out to be, even if they would end up snogging with a movie in the background. Less pressure, more fun. Maybe that was what had gone wrong lately in her life. Or maybe it was just something about this man, who kissed incredibly well, and whose hair was as soft as she had imagined when she had run her hand through it.

Arwen, Heaven bless her, had saved her from having to face Tauriel and her definitely nicely-meant but embarrassing comments about her (lacking) sex-life. She also didn't really want to have to look Boromir in the eyes before disappearing with his brother, so the stunt with the bag was something she would be eternally grateful for. It also showed that her friend approved of the man, otherwise she wouldn't have sent him after her. Éowyn didn't believe for a second that he only came outside to get some fresh air.

In the end, Éowyn had simply texted Tauriel and Legolas about her departure and promised them to Venmo the money for the drinks.

Now though the Faramir and herself were squished in the back of a taxi. He looked at her with interest while she gave the driver her address - now she could just hope he wasn't a stalker. Still, it felt safer than going to a place she knew nothing about. Faramir looked at her in surprise.

"You live in Chelsea?"

She hummed affirmatively.

"Yes. Oh, and I share the place with Arwen. Just so you know." She was quite certain they hadn't mentioned that before, it was such a no-brainer for the friend group that they usually forgot to tell others about it.

"Where do you live when you stay here in London?"

He only nodded, then grinned.

"Your research didn't tell you where I live?"

"Well," she drawled, "I know where your company lives. I know nothing about you, Mr. Lord Faramir."

The man rolled his eyes.

"Please, we both know I don't have a title to start with. To answer your question - I actually stay at my family's place. So, my old childhood bedroom. Very sexy, I know. Or I stay with my brother. In Kensington, if that was your question. Though Winnie - if you share your place, won't we disturb Arwen?"

She shook her head, touched by his concern.

"No, it's no problem. You'll see, I promise. And there is nothing wrong with childhood bedrooms, in most cases at least. But you, you don't have a second apartment in London?"

"No, why should I? Just extra costs and not much use, I am mostly in Edinburgh anyway. And no girlfriend to hide from my wife."

This made her startle for a moment.

"Do you actually have a wife? Or a girlfriend?"

Faramir leaned closer again, his breath ghosting over her lips.

"No," he whispered against her, "if I had, I wouldn't do this."

Then he kissed her, deeply, as if he really wanted to make a point about not having a wife. Her head started to feel as if it was filled with air as he licked into her mouth and Éowyn had to tell herself repeatedly that they had an audience in the form of the taxi driver. Faramir seemed to agree, his hand stayed properly on her cheek, he only used it to slightly tilt her face to grant him better access. The fingers of his other hand interlinked with hers in an almost courtly gesture that made an incredible warmth bubble in her belly.

"Why don't you have a girlfriend if you kiss like that," she mused to herself.

He chuckled.

"Well, this doesn't seem to be a common occurrence. I also usually don't do this," he explained, "I don't usually go home with ladies after meeting them at a bar."

"Glad to hear that."

She found it was harder and harder to keep distant and aloof with him, maybe that was what French kissing in the back of a cab did to a person. If anything, it felt liberating, light, and airy, and it made her want more. It made her want to do naughty things and she pushed the thoughts away. For now.

Finally, they arrived, and she paid the driver before Faramir could even move. Her eyes sparkled as she looked at him, a challenge, but he only shrugged in a clear 'suit yourself' gesture. Then they stood on the drive walk and she tugged him by his sleeve towards the rather imposing buildings on the side. It was so quiet in the streets, only one person passed them with a quiet 'hello'.

On the way home from some sort of event, Éowyn mused, before concentrating on more important things, meaning the man who was walking next to her.

They stopped in front of a two storied house, nestled between two other rather similar buildings on the sides. Éowyn knew it was painted a beautiful pale blue, even though one could hardly see the colour in the lamplight now. The house was Arwen's and her pride and joy - their first own place in London, their first own place, period. They had moved in here together after college, when things had been, as one said 'complicated' and neither one had wanted to be alone.

Faramir laughed to himself.

"Who are you, woman? You have a house in Chelsea, you can get into Mith & Ril, and yet, I have never seen your face before."

She pecked him on the lips.

"You're not the only private person."

When they went up the front steps, Éowyn could see light that was still floating through Arwen's closed curtains at the ground floor - so she had come back safely, then. While Éowyn was searching for her keys, she suddenly got terribly distracted by Faramir, who used the opportunity to wrap his arms around her from behind. He started to pepper the slightly exposed side of her neck with kisses until she started to lean back into him.

"You should let me work!" she scolded him, but it came out smiling and breathy.

"Sure, if you say so. But there is just a little problem."

Éowyn had just managed to unlock the door, despite her shaking hands, and turned slightly in his arms to face him.

"What's that?"

"You've got a mistletoe over your doorstep. And that means -"

Before she could open the door, he had leaned forward and kissed her, despite the rather inconvenient angle. Hear heart thudded wildly as he held her tight. The mistletoe had originally been a joke for Arwen, she had never thought she would make use of it herself - but she wasn't complaining now. They stood still for a moment as they pulled apart, like two statues glistening in the bronze light of the lanterns. Faramir's features seemed sharper that way, regal, almost too clear-cut to be true, and so incredibly handsome.

"Come on," she told him quietly and finally managed to let them in. He followed her and waited attentively as she closed the door, turned on the light, and pointed towards the stairs.

"My apartment is upstairs."

"So, you don't really live together with Arwen," Faramir pointed out.

Éowyn shrugged.

"Potaito, potahto. We live in the same house and that's that."

She became almost shy as she unlocked her apartment upstairs and asked him inside, waiting for his reaction. He took off his shoes and put them neatly next to hers on the rack while she stepped out of her high heels with a satisfied sigh. Then she took his coat and put it on a hanger before adding hers next to it.

"Kitchen and lounge are to your right," she told him, before it could get too awkward and lightly pushed him into the room. On the way she checked her phone to text Arwen about her arrival - after all, she didn't want an angry friend ringing at her door later - and dropped her handbag in her office.

The kitchen was a more or less open floor with a small kitchen island and four bar stools around it. All around, the countertops were made from sleek, light brown stone and the whole kitchen was decorated with wooden elements that mirrored the hardwood floors. Overall, an odd mixture between rustic and trendy with a lot of specks of colours peppered in between. Further to the left, a couple of dirty plates and mugs were still standing next to the sink.

"I wasn't expecting guests, obviously," she told him, "sorry for the mess. Would you like something to drink though?"

She had no idea what the etiquette for a one-night stand was. But being a good hostess and offering drinks was certainly a good start, right?

Faramir smiled.

"I don't mind your kitchen, please don't stress yourself because of a couple of plates. But yes, I'd like something to drink. Anything would be fine, really."

"Another whisky?"

"Are you trying to get me drunk?"

She shook her head determinately.

"No, absolutely not. I just thought -"

He cupped her face in his hands.

"All good, I was just teasing. If you're okay with it, I am okay with it. One more will be alright, but not more than that, if we plan to do anything more than passing out on that very comfy-looking couch of yours."

Éowyn smiled a little.

"It is indeed very comfy. Okay, come on, you choose!"

Two kinds of whisky were now displayed on the kitchen island - Faramir regarded them with a grin.

"Only two kinds? I am disappointed."

"Well, here at least," she said with a raised eyebrow, "I am not a distillery, after all."

"Uhum, interesting."

Suddenly, he was so close again, his nose tapping against hers.

"Hey, you keep distracting me!"

"You are very distracting yourself!"

"Where is that smooth-talking coming from all of a sudden?" she asked before she could stop herself.

The next moment she already regretted her words as she saw Faramir close up in front of her. Something like a shadow was coming over his eyes. The playful man was almost gone, and Éowyn didn't know where he had disappeared to. She knew that she would have liked him to stay though, very much so. Now it was her who cupped his cheeks, his beard soft and slightly scratchy in her palms at the same time. After a couple of heartbeats, he finally found her eyes - he seemed wistful, almost sad.

"Hey, it's charming, really. I like it. I was just surprised," she told him honestly.

Then she kissed him gently, petal soft, like a promise of sunshine. The taste of whiskey had almost disappeared, and she finally tasted him against her lips. It was warm and addicting, even more so than the drink. He followed her movements as she kept holding on to him. When she finally looked at him again, the clear grey of his eyes was cloudy, but she didn't think it was sadness anymore. Faramir ran a hand through his hair, a very distracting motion, until his look finally fixed on something behind her.

"Your mug, over there. It has written Éowyn on it. Is that - is Winnie short for it?"

Well, there was not really a way to get out of this, was there? At least Boromir wasn't here right now to make guesses about her. So, she nodded.

"It suits you. What do you prefer? Éowyn or Winnie?"

She pondered for a moment. While she usually didn't mind either, for some reason Éowyn felt more natural with him.

"I don't mind," she finally settled on, "but if you don't mind either, Éowyn."

"Éowyn it is, then," he answered, "it is such an unusual name, I like it."

She had the feeling he wanted to pull her closer again but stopped as soon as his hands had wrapped around her waist.

"What's the problem?" she asked against his lips with concern in her voice.

"I really don't want to wrinkle your suit," Faramir answered a little bit breathless.

She huffed.

"You had very little consideration for my clothing earlier."

"But your coat was in between!" he argued.

The blonde pondered for a moment.

"Good point. But can I be honest? I don't really care about my pantsuit right now."

He gave her no warning before he pulled her flush against him, close in a way that made her breath hitch. Despite the move though, their kiss stayed gentle, careful, almost tender. A bit too tender, if she was honest, for the heat that was stirring in her belly. She started to push at his leather jacket, and he seemed to get her meaning as he let go of her to shrug it off and almost throw it onto one of the bar stools. Then his hands were on the labels of her suit jacket, and he slowly started to peel it off her shoulders. Goosebumps began to spread over her naked arms as the fabric slid past and he traced the path back upwards with his fingers. It seemed to be almost a game for him, to try and figure out what would make her shiver, what would make her flinch. She could feel his callouses on the finger, certainly an archer, with the strong shoulders and biceps to prove it.

Arms that could hold me up against the wall while he - now she was certainly very much blushing.

"Éowyn, what are you thinking about?" he asked her, the voice a strange mixture of concern and amusement.

Her arms settled on his arms, caressing the skin. Unfortunately, he seemed less ticklish and sensitive there than herself.

"That you've got enough strength to hold me up," she answered truthfully.

He grinned, almost boyish and certainly a little bit naughty.

"Oh yes, I certainly could. With pleasure."

"So humble," she huffed.

"Of course."

The force of the next kiss made the couple stumble backwards until Éowyn could feel the kitchen island dig into her back. She didn't care. Especially as Faramir accidentally pressed his thigh between hers and her brain short circuited into a shower of sparks. She wanted more of this, more of the rush, and the passion. It had been there all evening, and now it was finally being unlocked. Now that they were in her apartment, Éowyn had no qualms of running her hands through his hair and muss it up completely in the process. She could feel he was leaning into her hands like a cat, so much that their lips detached, and she could kiss down his throat towards his Adam's apple. His pulse was thudding under her lips and the feather-light touches – a part of her would have loved to leave the odd love bite here and there but she refrained from doing so, after all, who knew what he was planning to do tomorrow.

When he moved his hips a little against hers, she whined, a small, desperate sound that made her bite her lip. Suddenly, he felt his thumb just where her teeth had been a moment earlier, soothing the sting. Éowyn opened her eyes, almost lazily. Faramir was staring at her, she could see his pupils were fully blown, dark.

"Don't hold back on my account," he told her sincerely.

Then he kissed her again, close-lipped, safely, while her head was spinning at the same time with lust, passion and something that felt dangerously like affection. She could do nothing but hold on to him, especially as he moved his face and lightly scraped his teeth over her pulse point. Suddenly, he pulled back, but before she could start to worry, his hands were at the buttons of her blouse, with a question in her eyes. She nodded but almost hissed when he started to slowly open one fastening after the other. As soon as new skin was revealed, he started to kiss it, down her sternum and her belly until the blouse was hanging open at her side. The woman flinched internally when she remembered her boring plain skin coloured bra, but Faramir didn't seem to mind her choice of underwear - he seemed entranced, Éowyn noticed, and that made something powerful well up in her. The blouse joined the leather and the suit jacket, and she started to tug on his white shirt.

Faramir let her pull it over his head, it dropped to the floor in an unruly heap. Her jaw dropped almost at the same time - now that she knew what he had hidden under that shirt she wasn't quite certain how she should ever get her hands off him again. His low chuckle told her that she likely had spelt more of her thoughts out than she had wanted, but she refused to blush now - after all, she had only said something nice and very much true. Faramir didn't have the body of someone who played sports just to pose for Instagram later, he was muscular like a hunter, like someone who used his whole body for work. The skin rippled under her fingers as she traced his sides, then his back. He leaned closer to kiss down from her ear towards her collar bones, but then looked at her again.

"Tell me how to touch you."

It had been well-meant, really, but Éowyn froze. Because truly, she had no clue. Her panic must have shown on her face, since Faramir suddenly moved back and took both her hands in his.

"No pressure, this is not a test! But I want this to be good for you so I might need a bit of feedback."

"I don't know."

It was more a whisper than anything else. She felt horrible, after all, wasn't she supposed to know if she wanted to have a one-night stand?

"If you don't want to -"

"That's not it," she quickly told him, "it's just that- nobody ever took his time to - I just don't know. But - don't pull my hair, especially not from behind. And don't be mean. And no hickeys! And maybe ... hold me?"

Faramir kissed her briefly, she could feel he was smiling.

"I can work with that. And you are very welcome to pull my hair by the way."

He gave her a smile that was downright bashful.

"I gathered."

She smiled back, a little bit shaky, but certainly relieved.

It will be good. You like him. You like him a lot.

The thought sneaked into her mind unbidden, reassuring and unsettling at the same time. Éowyn gave his hands a short tug, but before she could pull him to the bedroom, he had already scooped her up. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she burrowed her face against his chest, and he carried her down the hallway as if she really weighed nothing.