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i-did-not-mean-to · 1 year

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Monopoly and pets

IDNMT proudly presents...a prompt by @the-girl-with-the-algebra-book, @vintage-jewel, and @scyllas-revenge...

Here goes nothing lol...

Words: 2k

Warnings: None

Characters: Éomer x OC, Éowyn x Faramir

“You are aware that you’re an idiot, right?” Éowyn grinned as she sat on the floor with her brother’s massive dog trying desperately to crawl on her lap while Éomer shoved magazines and single socks between his best tableware in the old armoire standing in his living room.

“Shut up and help me instead of indulging this traitor,” he hissed; his gaze roamed around the room frantically in search of other offending items. “Why did I even invite you over?”

Éowyn cackled and got up gracefully, stepping past her brother with a mocking grin, to open the door to her own boyfriend whose expression expressed both worried disapproval and barely contained glee.

“Ah, you’ve brought young Denethor,” she cooed at the grumpy-looking cat Faramir was carrying in his arms like a baby.

“I wish you would refrain from addressing the cat by the name of my father,” he sighed and bent down to press a loving kiss onto her smiling mouth. “Take the beast; I’ll see if your brother needs any help.” Extending her arms to her darling pet, Éowyn merely shook her head in earnest pity. It was just like Faramir to offer his assistance despite the fact that her brother had gotten himself into the mess he was presently mired down in all on his own and deserved neither help nor sympathy.

Apparently, the doggy day-care in charge of the mountain of flesh parading as an actual dog that lived here had informed Éomer that said beast, Firefoot – the laziest and least fiery canine in the world – had made a friend.

In his boundless enthusiasm – for “like master, like man” – Éomer had promptly invited the owner of said “buddy” to his home; it was only after the young woman going by the much less ludicrous name of Mathilda had accepted that Éomer was reminded of his woeful shortcomings as a host.

Thankfully for him, his sister had been so amused by his tale of woe that she had offered that she and her boyfriend could come as chaperones.

It had not struck Éomer at the time he had extended this ill-advised invitation that his motives might well have been understood as sinister and potentially nefarious; he was ashamed to admit that it had taken his sister’s vocal dismay to make him fully aware of how unfortunate it would have been to entice a woman into finding herself alone at the mercy of a stranger behind a possibly locked door.

Good-natured as he was, Éomer had not thought of himself as a threat but he was nonetheless very grateful that Éowyn and her partner had been willing to come defuse the dicey situation.

Truth be told, Éomer was rather nervous about the whole evening and his broad, strong hands were just the tiniest bit unsteady as he set out empty glasses onto the freshly polished table.

The frantic energy radiating from him was probably the reason why Faramir was by now utterly infected with blind panic and so, Éowyn got to witness her two favourite men in the world run around like headless chickens; as a woman herself though, she was firmly convinced that she wanted no partner for her only sibling who would be offended by a stray sock or a horse catalogue lying around.

After all, Éomer could clean up anxiously as much as he wanted now, he’d still be a bit scatter-brained and slightly chaotic in nature and the lady in question should learn this about him as soon as possible. If one was to ask Éowyn, she’d boldly claim that Éomer’s kind and brave soul were well worth the blatant lack of tidiness and she truly hoped that the much-anticipated guest would agree.

Indeed, it seemed very unlikely to her that her brother would just invite anybody to his home only because their dogs got along well with each other; certainly, there was more to the story than that!

Slowly, she started to feel her own senses grow sharper with wariness as they waited – seemingly endlessly – for this mysterious dog owner.

As soon as Mathilda arrived, swaddled in a breath-takingly beautiful coat and handsomely flushed on account of the cool evening air, with a very well-behaved dog in tow, Éowyn’s secret suspicions were instantly and uncontestably confirmed.

‘Tilda, as the lady introduced herself, was a woman of rather short stature with a radiant smile and twinkling eyes whose pretty complexion and luscious hair would have charmed even men much more hard-hearted than Éomer.

Right now though, confusion distorted her pleasant face as she took in the suspiciously bare room and the two strangers standing around displaying varying degrees of relaxation.

“I’m Éowyn, Éomer’s sister,” Éowyn simply took the initiative as the two men just gaped dumbly at the newcomer, “and the flushed panicky dude in the corner is my boyfriend. My brother has said something about an evening of boardgames and fun, so we thought we’d tag along, if that’s okay by you?”

Éomer grunted under his breath; he had said no such thing! As a matter of fact, he avoided playing any kind of game with Éowyn as much as possible as they were both sore losers and insufferable winners.

Ever since their youngest childhood, they had managed to turn everything into a competition and, while Éomer was taller, stronger, and faster than his sister, she was wilier by far.

Faramir also blanched for he was well-aware of the rivalry between his intended and her brother; he had been the heedless witness of many a game-night massacre and had been one of the chief instigators of the “no boardgames”-rule in both their households.

“Oh,” Mathilda whispered, her astonished gaze lighting up with innocent eagerness. “That sounds like a lot of fun! Let’s do that!”

Knowing himself to be outwitted thoroughly, Éomer admitted his first defeat of the evening and went to retrieve the old Monopoly from under a stack of empty shoeboxes in his bedroom.

Within a few minutes, war was raging around the rickety table; Éowyn literally bared her teeth at her boyfriend as he considered buying a very advantageous property.

Thus threatened, Faramir decided to play it safe instead and kept his money; he seemed to prefer endless, hopeless wandering around the board to the fierce threat of unspeakable violence in Éowyn’s eyes.

He was affectionately mocked by most people in his life for his tendency to bring great sacrifices and do himself tremendous harm in order to appease or please those he held dear, and – even though this was supposed to be innocent entertainment – the present conundrum was no exception to this idiosyncrasy of his.

As for Éomer, not only did he make a few very unfortunate choices early on in the game, but he was also cursed with a streak of particularly bad luck.

“Sister,” he cried dramatically, “remember the bonds of blood that tie us to one another. Will you not come to my aid in this hour of need?”

“Eat dust, Éomer,” she declared haughtily and made her next brazen move.

In a moment of petulant weakness, Éomer consider flipping the whole table in a sudden rush of irate impatience and heartsick dissatisfaction, but he reined himself in at the last moment and merely glared at his triumphant sister through the whole round.

Mathilda meanwhile had apparently been granted all the luck Éomer was lacking and, very soon, she was the only player who had any chance of toppling Éowyn and ending her reign of terror.

Unfortunately, she turned out to be just as ambitious and competitive; eyes flashed, lips tightened, and long hair was tossed back impetuously as they plotted their next moves frantically.

“Will you not help me?” Éomer whispered at Faramir whose wide, glassy eyes stayed glued to his beloved’s face as he shook his head almost imperceptibly.

“You’re on your own, my man; I just want to survive to see my dear father’s face again,” he confessed under his breath. “Would that Boromir was here. I’m sure he would relish the chance to measure his prowess against such skill and wit.”

“What are you two conspiring about?” Éowyn bellowed from across the table pugnaciously; she was so close to her victory that she could almost taste it.

Both dogs had retreated into the kitchen, distraught by the unbearable tension in the living room, but Éowyn’s ugly cat was perched upon the armoire into which all of Éomer’s unpalatable belongings had been secreted so unceremoniously.

Just as his sister lifted her intrepid hand to make her last move, sealing their fates, the shaggy sour-faced beast leaped down and – landing on the board – made it slide off the table in an avalanche of cards and figurines.

“Ugh! Blasted cat!” Éowyn howled.

“Ah, such a shame!” Faramir cried out, swooping in to save their pet from her wrath and the wet nosing of the dogs who had sprinted back to roll around on the crumpled paper money on the floor.

“What about dinner? Mathilda? Would you care to eat something? I’m sure my sister and her boyfriend would be delighted to dogsit as it was their cat that spoiled our fun!” Éomer pounced on the opportunity to get out of the blast radius of his sister’s temper that was – by the look on her face – about to erupt in a flood of angry words and reckless actions.

Mathilda cocked her head; she was not disinclined to have a bite to eat, but she evidently thought it rude to go out without inviting the other two members of their party.

“Oh, it would be our pleasure, wouldn’t it?” Faramir replied hastily, a wicked glint stealing into his calm gaze. “We wouldn’t be sore losers, would we, my love?”

“I guess,” Éowyn grunted and shot such a withering look at both Faramir and their cat that both flinched visibly.

“That’s so very sweet of you, sister mine,” Éomer chirped and – ignoring the mess on the floor – he extended his arm to Mathilda to escort her into the foyer and help her into her coat. “We won’t be long,” he called over his shoulder cheerily. “If you’re hungry too, you could order a pizza? Be advised though, Firefoot barks when the doorbells rings and my neighbour is not overly fond of it.”

“Let him come and complain,” Éowyn yelled back – a little louder than necessary – and chuckled darkly. Knowing that she would be spoiling for a fight, Éomer accepted to sacrifice the annoying man next door – a grimy, pale-faced, lurking fellow – to her wrath.

Éomer sincerely liked his brother-in-law and consequently had no qualms to save his hide by diverting Éowyn’s frustration thus.

Moreover, he had seen the way his neighbour looked at his sister every time she came over and he delighted in the idea of having her blow him off in the most explicit and unmistakeable manner known to humanity.

He almost felt sorry that he’d probably miss that confrontation; he would have paid good money to watch his sister have a go at that slimy worm of a man.

Nevertheless, he had more important challenges to face now, and – if he didn’t want this evening to be a complete disaster – he needed to prove that he was more than just a mediocre Monopoly-player.

“Milady,” he grinned with all the charm he could muster as he turned suavely back to Mathilda. “Do not worry, my sister is much better with animals than she is with people!”

“I do not know what you allude to,” the young woman replied coolly, “I found her to be perfectly agreeable and a worthy opponent, which cannot be said of all my fellow players.”

Catching her sharp but humorous side-glance, Éomer sighed deeply; it was just his luck to meet a fascinating and enchanting woman who just so happened to be eerily similar to his beloved sister in many a way.

At the end of the day though, he understood, respected, and adored Éowyn and thus, he decided to take Mathilda’s reaction as a good and promising omen.

@fellowshipofthefics thank you for creating such an amazing environment!

@laurfilijames here is Éomer losing his cool (among other things).

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Lots of love <3

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