I am tired. My back aches, my feet are swollen, and I neither sit not lie comfortably. Winter in Ithilien means the constant patter of raindrops streaming off green leaves. When shall we see the sun again? Will this child ever be born?

Faramir comes, bearing a steaming cup. Warmth, and comfort, and the scent of … flowers?

“Jasmine tea. I remembered it from Dol Amroth, so I asked my uncle to send some, to cheer you in these grey days.”

Dear, sweet man. The child shifts a bit, and I can breathe, inhaling deeply the essence of spring.

~~~
Dedicated to the Stash Tea Company, and the lovely UPS man who delivered my package one evening at 9:30 pm, because it was promised to me that day.