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slod 09 0212 saga

Page history last edited by Cleolinda 14 years, 11 months ago

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February 12th, 2009: The Continuing Saga

 

I'm a bit behind on catching y'all up on the Secret Life of Dolls--much of this happened earlier this week, but I was swamped, which is why you're getting so many entries now, but I need to catch you up to current events. So... sorry about that.

 

Anyway. Saturday, the day after Eowyn and Faramir's archery lesson, I decided to sit down with her this time.

 

"You know that was really shitty, right?"

 

"What?"

 

"You shot Iorek."

 

"That was an accident!"

 

"Oh, bullshit! You set the whole thing up!"

 

"Look, that part really was an accident. I was trying to just get the arrow close enough that he'd have to bring it over. If I'd been using the bow I was used to, I could have done it."

 

"Well, maybe the longbow lessons will actually do you some good, then. But apologize to Iorek."

 

"I did!"

 

"Good. And seriously, don't act all girly like you can't shoot. Don't pretend to be weak to make him feel strong, because that is also really shitty. Besides, I thought you of all people were better than that."

 

She looked genuinely stung. "I won't do it again. I just needed something to break the ice."

 

"Well, God knows he wasn't helping you on that front. Not that I can BLAME HIM, Ice Queen."

 

"Look, that whole thing was extremely embarrassing--"

 

"I know, I know. And Gladdy feels terrible about it. It put him in a really awkward position too, you know."

 

"I couldn't let him think I was like that, though. You know. Desperate. Easy."

 

I know what she means--not "easy" like "trampy," just... emotionally easy. Too eager, too pitiful. I mean, it's one thing to moan and groan in the safe confines of girl talk; it's another to grovel for crumbs. And I can think back to all the times I've complained about feeling lonely, and... I have to say, I think I'd do the same thing. I mean, not throw a shitfit upon introduction, EOWYN, but... I would be inclined to coolness. Not outright iciness, but--I would be cautious. I wouldn't want to give myself away too soon. I would want to earn him as much as I would want to make him earn me.

 

"So, just... don't tell him, okay? I mean... you know."

 

"I won't. I won't say anything. I mean, unless it gets all stupid up in here like one of those movies where it'd be over in five minutes if everyone just sat down and talked to each other. As long as you keep it under control, it's cool."

 

Of course, after the archery lesson, I'm willing to let her take the reins for a while, because (collateral polar bear damage aside), that whole setup was fairly smoove. This week, though, they've just been hanging out, talking, getting to know each other--no theatrics. "Get her to tour you around some of the bookshelves or something," I told Faramir One, "at least that'll give you something to do." Sitting up on the top shelf by the door, the one with the row of Lemony Snickets, seems to be working well for them--it's far enough from The Shelf that no one's bothering them, ANNA.

 

"Do you just hate love or something?"

 

"You're asking me? She's the one who bitched him out."

 

"Yeah, well, I didn't appreciate your new and more profane take on 'Eowyn and Faramir, sitting in a tree.' "

 

*snicker*

 

"I MEAN IT, OKAY? It's either this or more shieldmaiden-in-heat whining, so make up your mind. And you know that if this doesn't work out, she's going to really insist on getting an Edward Dollen. Two, even."

 

"OVER MY DEAD--"

 

"I'm just saying. Lesser of two evils, man. Make up your mind. Go play with Elizabeth or something and leave them alone."

 

"I'll go CLEAN MY PISTOL, that's WHAT I'LL DO."

 

Yeah... I probably shouldn't tell her I've already decided to buy one. In fact, I already have some grave concerns about future Dollen purchases, because as I walked past the bookshelf to take a load of laundry downstairs, I saw Eowyn explaining something very enthusiastically to Faramir, and I really try not to eavesdrop on them, but as I was heaving the basket through the door, I heard her say something about a stupid lamb. This can't end well, y'all.

 

 


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