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My Drabbles from Tolkien Weekly  by Mirkwoodmaiden

Faramir rose with the sunlight.  It was a habit of many years; years spent as a Ranger in service to Gondor.  Ever vigilant, living moment to moment because the past was too painful and the future unknown. He knew no other life. Until Éowyn. He looked to the bed from the banister, reddish blond hair bound in a loose plait, shift falling off her shoulder, the sunlight falling across her face. He traced his steps back and pulled the coverlet over them both.  Éowyn murmured, "What are you doing?" Faramir replied, "Gazing at Sunlight," as he kissed her softly, "Beautiful." 

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