Who plucked the plums from the ice jar?

Who picked the peaches from the tree?

Did you wake so early in the morning-

To make up for the time that we can't be?

The farmer's boy stood high on the ladder that leaned against the sweet fruit tree. He perched on the top rung, knees bent, to reach for a very plump fleshy peach just a bit out of his reach. The muscles on the right side of his ribs strained as he reached out impossibly farther. Knees became straight as stilts and his arm became long as Laffy taffy. He swiped at the peach and whined.

Peach fuzz brushed the tips of his fingers. He had been so close! Just a bit further! He was impossibly stretched to his limits; as little as three toes held him on his perch. The discs between his vertebrae expanded and he must've gained at least a foot in height. Still, the pinky-orange peach evaded him.

"Come on!" He croaked. "So close… yet, so far!" Dare he do it? Dare he do what must never be repeated ever again, as direct orders from his father?

He jumped. The ladder buckled and collapse to the ground as he propelled himself forward. At the last moment, he was able to latch onto a thick branch. "AaahhYEAAHhheah!" He screamed in delight.

Slowly, nimble limbs and rough, deft hands scooched closer to the heart of the tree like a chameleon; stealthy, steady. The sought-after peach lay just barely shadowed by the dark subtly serrated foliage of the ancient peach tree.

Mission accomplished.

The thick stem suspending the mammoth peach broke with a healthy snap as earth-hardened hands twisted and pulled the fruit away from its sisters. He held the fruit surely but carefully as he climbed back down so as not to bruise its beautiful skin. He meandered down easily enough; stopping once to rest on a strong branch when he caught sight of what must've been the most intelligent and beautiful being his eyes had ever had the pleasure of resting on.

He whistled a bird's tune to get her attention from up in the peach tree. He snickered as she looked around in confusion at the strange avian noise. "Hey, Miss Plum! Up here! It's me, Peaches." Alfred grinned widely and waved to her in a large arch to catch her eye.

It took a little while longer for Anya to finally catch sight of the raving farmer's boy and she smiled kindly. "Peaches? Isn't that a pretty girly name for a man like you?" She teased lightly; securing her jar plums closer to her as she politely waved back.

"Are ya kidding me? Peaches are the manliest fruit around; you can tell because they are the hairiest of course." He rolled the peach around in his hands, feeling the telltale brush of fuzz. "It may be pretty, but it sho' ain't girly on me."

"Ah, I see." She said nodding to herself. "Did you call me a plum just because I'm holding this jar or is there some deeper meaning to that too, Peaches?" She found the name oddly fitting. Tapping her hands lightly against the still-chilled plum jar, she held the frosty sweets up.

"Of course!" Alfred's smile became charming "They're just so sweet and soft. Plums are purple on the outside too-the color of royalty- so you must be a princess! Princess Plum, doesn't that sound like you?"

She laughed in amusement. While winking up at him brightly, her hands went behind her back to grab a steel handle and pull it out. A shiny steel shovel revealed itself and was buried into the ground beside her. "Princesses do not carry around shovels. Plum should be fine, Mr. Peach."

"Whoa there!" Alfred piped out. "No 'Mr.' for me either Plum. Mr. Peach is my father; wouldn't want any confusion now, would we?" He hopped down from his perch landing ungracefully on three limbs. The peach was carefully tucked near his chest. He stood up and brushed some leaves off his overalls. "You know, Plum, I ain't never seen your sorts around here before and I know everyone whether good or bad. Where ya been?"

"Well, my family just decided to move here. They told me it's for the better weather and to get away from the disease in the city, but I know better. The Lord is afraid of my father. It's kind of funny, don't you agree?"

"Really? The Lord is afraid of your family? Why?" Alfred was beyond intrigued now. He loved gossip more than anything. He tensed when Plum shot him a strange look. "I mean, you don't have to tell me. But, I swear on my peaches, I would not tell a soul if you did." He made a mock cross over his gigantic peach and saluted.

"No, no. It's just… I've always had to be careful with information. Bad habits have a habit of staying habitually, hmm?" She shook her shovel from the ground and walked closer to Alfred with a soft look to her face. She transferred the shovel under her left armpit and held out her right hand. "I'm Anya of the Braginsky nobility, but please just call me Plum. It's shorter and I like it better."

"Nice to meet ya, Plum. I'm Alfred of the Jones serfdom, but please, Peach or Peaches is fine by me." He bowed low to the ground exaggeratedly and flapped his arms like a gull. "How can I be of service, Plum?"

"You're a serf?" Anya said with pity in her tone. "I'm so sorry. Who owns you? I'll free you right now! I hate serfdom. If I had it my way, serfdom would've been abolished long ago."

"Nah, it's alright Plum. Life here ain't too bad. Freedom sounds so nice you know, but buying mine is out of the question." He rubbed the peach in his hands again and rolled it over the tops of his hands. "Thank you for your kindness, ma'am. But, I can't accept it, not now." He had stopped smiling, a melancholy shadow passing over him. "I have to get back to work. If the landowner find out I been slacking, he'll beat me or worse!" He smiled a small smile and tossed the peach to Plum who caught it effortlessly. "Don't eat it yet, wait a day or two. You can visit anytime I'm sure, and when you come back we'll eat some of my peaches and those delicious looking plums."

"Thank you. I'll be sure to come back tomorrow, Alfred." Anya tucked the shovel back into its sheath. "Would you care for a plum right now?"

"No thanks and you can call me Peaches okay? Take care miss Plum, I'll see ya."

They nodded to each other and parted ways. One went off to slave in the fields and orchards and another went back to slave over her studies.

A/N: Neglecting my other stories in favor of starting yet another story is a talent that must be protected. This story I'll try to keep to 10 chapters or less though let's see how that turns out. I'll make it short and violent. I've had major writer's block recently. I like nyo!Russia a lot don't you? Hopefully she'll be making more and more appearances in my writing. Leave a review if you enjoyed this beginning. Love. Love. Love.