Day 17: Sharing

rakshathedemon asked for Éowyn cooks something and it's good (anti-movieverse cliché).

Sharing

On the lower slopes, they were grafting sweet red eaters and sharp green cookers onto new rootstock. But Éowyn climbed to where self-seeded trees had budded their mixed heritage for half a century.

Returning laden with golden-skinned bounty, she usurped the kitchens. The cooks – from Minas Tirith, Lossarnach, Lebennin – raised their eyebrows at foreign ways, but kept their peace.

Faramir, smelling the scent of baking, followed his wife to the stables. "I thought those were for me," he teased, watching her feed the cakes to Windfola.

"Oh, they're good for people too," she laughed, holding out the basket to him.

Inspired by gwynnyd's daughter's yummy horse and rider muffins.