Over at http://www.henneth-annun.net someone requested a drabble about Faramir and Eowyn. Unfortunately, canonical moments between these two are rare, and I'm nothing if not unique. So instead of inventing my own moment entirely from scratch or writing one of the two or three moments between them in canon, I borrowed a moment from tanaquilotr's piece "Later" (Please note: this piece is adult in nature for sexual scenes.)
Here's what I came up with. As usual, it ran away from me and is a double instead of a standard drabble:
Pippin watched Merry reach to the back of the shelf above his head. "Here we are," he said, retrieving a wheel of cheese - and several apples, fruit raining down and falling to the floor with a thump.
"Merry, be careful!" Pippin hissed in a low voice.
In the dim light Pippin saw his cousin shrug. The Took retrieved the bruised apples and placed them on their shelf, hurried back to the hall, and pulled the door shut.
"Don't you dare." The words might have been lost to other mortal ears, but hobbits are quick of hearing. Was that... Faramir? But what was he doing here? He inched down the side-passage where he had heard the voice.
Pippin glanced past the barely-opened door and saw Éowyn, her fingers interlocking with Faramir's, recovering from what Pippin guessed must have been a stolen kiss - a kiss both had waited long for, but which custom demanded be delayed yet further. A kiss the hobbits had interrupted.
He remembered berries, birds, and soaked tunics, shared glances and a promise of "Later". And other things: seeing-stones and fire, tales of valour and despair.
Let them have their peace. "Come on, Merry," he said, "I'm hungry."
As I said, "Later" is adult in nature, but this drabble is based on a section that is more PG-13. If you are unfamiliar with this piece, it is set just after the betrothal of Faramir and Eowyn in Edoras. Specifically, this drabble is based on the following scene:
The trouble with having so many noble visitors was that there was simply no privacy. Faramir was sharing a room with the Elf and the Dwarf. They had been pleasant enough companions so far – although the Dwarf snored rather heavily – but now he was wishing them at the ends of Middle-earth. Eowyn had been required to give space in her quarters to Faramir’s cousin Lothiriel and to two other Gondorim ladies who had been chosen for Arwen’s retinue. Faramir thought longingly of the many rooms in the Steward’s House in Minas Tirith where he could have ensured they were disturbed by none.
Eowyn frowned as she thought. “The kitchens may be quiet now,” she suggested. “I wish I could offer a more pleasant place.”
“It will serve well enough, if we can be alone,” Faramir answered.
“Then take the door to the right below the dais,” she directed. “Be discreet! I will go and bid goodnight to my brother.”
Faramir saw, as he made his way silently through the shadows of the side aisle, that Eomer was standing near the fire talking to Lothiriel. The new-crowned King of Rohan looked somewhat distracted and as if he was not paying much attention to his sister’s leavetaking. Perhaps it’s not just Thiri who favours the match! Faramir thought. I should speak to King Elessar about it before he departs for Isengard.
Once through the door, Faramir waited in the corridor until Eowyn joined him. She led him down towards the kitchens. There was a faint light in the distance and the sound of tankards being washed. Part way down the corridor, Eowyn turned into a short side passage. A door to a darkened room stood open to one side and Faramir stepped that way.
“No, not in there,” Eowyn whispered. “That’s the cold store.” She tugged him through a door on the other side of the dimly lit passage. “We’ll be much more comfortable in here.”
Faramir moved ahead of her to bring them further away from the dim light that fell through the door. In the gloom, he could see that the walls were lined with sacks and barrels and jars. He turned back towards her and drew her closer.
“At last!” he said, hoping she could hear his smile even if she could not see it. He felt her take a deep breath. His own breathing was shallow and nervous and he was a little light-headed. For a long moment, he did nothing except slide his hand around so that his fingers were interlocked with hers, his thumb caressing her wrist, looking down at her while his eyes adjusted to the dim light and her face became clearer. He was just about to bend his head and kiss her when his sharp ears heard a soft thump from the storeroom across the corridor, followed by a familiar voice exclaiming in low tones, “Merry! Be careful!”
Faramir closed his eyes and stifled a curse. He put his lips next to Eowyn’s ear and murmured, “It seems the hobbits are raiding the stores again, my love.”
“Oh dear, the cooks really will walk out if they steal any more food.” Eowyn whispered back. “I’d better go and stop them.”
She made to move but Faramir caught hold of her around the waist. “Don’t you dare,” he replied, hoping the Hobbits’ normal stealth was not matched by equally impressive hearing. “We’ll only have to go back to the Great Hall once they know we’re here.”
Eowyn relaxed back against him, apparently preferring a revolt in the kitchens the next morning to forgoing the pleasures of the night. Faramir breathed in her sweet scent for a moment. Then, miming for her to be silent, he led them back out into the main corridor.
Marta (inexplicably in a rather good mood tonight)