Disclaimer - I own nothing and no-one in this story, not even the plums.
This was written for the Favourite Poems challenge at HASA, and the poem that inspired it is by William Carlos Williams. I've put it in chapter 2, if you're interested.
"Éowyn," Faramir asked, confused, "whatever is wrong?"
She looked up at him, unshed tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry," Éowyn said softly, Faramir's bewilderment growing as she tried to draw away the circle of his arms, "I didn't mean to eat all of themI know they are hard to come by, and I'm sure you were saving them for yourself…..."
"Éowyn," he interrupted her, truly puzzled, "what are you talking about?"
She took a breath, as if bracing herself. "Those plums," she said, almost guiltily, and from her expression, she was clearly expecting Faramir to be annoyed. "They just looked so good! Imeant to eat only one, really I did, but... "
Faramir chuckled softly. "How did you like them?"
She blinked at him in surprise. "They were delicious," Éowyn admitted, sheepish. "Sweet, yet a bit tart. And very cold from sitting on the window ledge all night."
Faramir smiled down at her as he laid one hand against his wife's growing belly. "Foolish woman," he teased gently. "I got them for you."