The Princess from the Sea: a Gondorian fairy tale
Title: The Princess from the Sea: a Gondorian fairy tale
Author: Fawsley
Rating: As mild as possible!
Characters: Finduilas with a bit of Denethor and a touch of Imrahil
Archive: sons_of_gondor and my LJ
Summary: The Steward is in search of a bride. Not really het, more a celebration of feisty femaleness! Or should that be female feistiness?
Disclaimer: Tolkien's characters. I just take them a bit further down the road.
Feedback: Is like jelly and cake - always most welcome!
Comments: I'm taking advantage of the fact that the gurls are being allowed to play with the boys here now! I’ve never written Denethor and Finduilas before, nor have I ever written a fairy tale, but here they are in a little something that came to me in my sick-bed one afternoon.
Update: this story has been published in issue 207 (October 2007) of the Tolkien Society's Amon Hen magazine with wonderful illustrations by Jef Murray.
No warnings - it’s a fairy tale after all!
The Princess from the Sea
Word went out to the four corners of the land - the Steward was in need of a bride! Even as far away as the little castle on the coast was the message delivered, the little castle where a Prince and his sister lived by the sea.
‘I shall journey to the city of stone and attempt to marry the Steward’ announced the Princess, ‘for he knows little of this part of the kingdom and it would be good for our people if I were to speak for them.’
Her brother nodded in agreement.
‘It would indeed be good, dear sister. And I foresee a time to come when our houses would do well to be joined.’
The Prince read the missive again and frowned.
‘It says for you to take a gift for the Steward, something precious from your own lands, to be added to his treasury. This is difficult, for the harvest has been poor and all our little wealth must go towards keeping our people warm and fed and clothed should the winter prove harsh.’
The Princess pondered for a while, but could think of no suitable gift.
‘I shall walk by the sea, brother, as I always do when a problem must be solved. The sea always gives me an answer and I’m sure it will not fail me this time.’
So the Princess left the castle and followed the narrow stairs down the rugged cliff face to the sea. The great wheeling birds that flew so close did not bother her, nor did the wild spray as the waves crashed against the rocks, nor the terrible grey eternity stretching out before her.
Pulling her mantle around her shoulders, the Princess kicked off her shoes, wiggled her toes in the sand, and ran down to where land and sea met.
‘Sea, oh sea!’ she cried out ‘The Steward of the kingdom is in need of a bride. He knows little of the land or people by the sea and it would be well for my voice to be heard in the city of stone! But I must take a gift, and we have none that we can spare, for we are but a small, poor corner of the realm.’
Six gentle waves broke over the Princess’s feet, then a seventh much greater one. And as the waters receded she found that left behind in the wet sand were three bright gold coins. A fine gift for the Steward!
‘Thank you! Oh thank you sea! I knew you would help!’ cried the Princess, and she scampered back up the steep rocky stairs without bothering to put her shoes back on.
‘Look, brother! The sea has given an answer, as I knew it would! Three bright gold coins to offer to the Steward. I shall wear my gown with the deep pockets so the coins will be safe, and shall ride the piebald pony to the city of stone.’
*´¨)
¸.•´¸.•*´¨) ¸.•*¨)
(¸.•´ (¸.•
And so on the morrow the Prince kissed his sister and waved her farewell as she set out on her long journey across the realm. The road soon passed by orchards, and the Princess paused a while to fill her deep pockets with the small, sweet apples that grow by the sea.
Then onward she rode, singing merry songs to the piebald pony, who trotted happily along the road to the city.
But it was not many days after setting out that the piebald pony cast a shoe. The Princess dismounted and led the pony until they reached the next village where she sought out the blacksmith. The smith made a new shoe for the pony under the Princess’s watchful eye. All the time she sang softly to her mount, and when it was all over she fed him one of the little apples.
‘That will be one gold coin’ said the smith.
‘Well, so it must be,’ said the Princess, ‘though now I only have two gold coins to offer to the Steward whom I hope to marry.’
‘You?’ laughed the smith, ‘Marry the Steward? You must be joking! Look at yourself! All covered in smuts from the forge! He’s not going to look at you, let alone marry you!’
‘You never know’ countered the Princess, ‘and I must try for the sake of my people.’
And she hopped back onto the piebald pony and set off on her way.
But her songs were more thoughtful now, and the pony only walked.
*´¨)
¸.•´¸.•*´¨) ¸.•*¨)
(¸.•´ (¸.•
The days and the miles passed by and at last the Princess came to lands where the roots of the mountains came down close to the road. It is a dangerous place where bandits roam, but the Princess did not know this.
So when a masked man armed with a knife and a sword jumped out at her from behind a rock, she screamed in shock, the pony reared and the Princess tumbled off onto her hands and knees in the road.
‘Give me all your money!’ demanded the bandit.
The Princess stood up, dusted herself down and faced her adversary.
‘I have only two gold coins’ she told him ‘and they are a gift for the Steward whom I hope to marry.’
‘You? Marry the Steward? Don’t make me laugh! He’s not going to want you! Not with bloodied knees and a torn gown! He’ll turn you away as soon as he sees you! I’ll take just one gold coin - keep the other for your return journey, I’ll have it from you then!’
‘Well, so it must be’ said the Princess. ‘And you never know, he might marry me. Anyway, I must try for the sake of my people.’
As she watched the bandit melt away into the rocky landscape, the Princess rubbed the pony’s nose and fed him one of the apples. Then she hopped back into the saddle and continued on her way.
But her songs were now sad, and the pony only plodded.
*´¨)
¸.•´¸.•*´¨) ¸.•*¨)
(¸.•´ (¸.•
After many days they came at last to the city of stone. Never before had the Princess seen anything so magnificent! White towers gleamed in the sun and seemed to reach right into the sky. Noise and bustle and music reached her long before she reached the gate. The Princess was scared, but knew that she must go on.
At the gate her way was barred.
‘No strange horses allowed beyond the city walls!’ the gatekeeper informed her. ‘You’ll have to leave him in the stable here. That’ll be one gold coin please.’
‘Well’ said the Princess, ‘so it must be. But now I have no gift for the Steward whom I hope to marry.’
‘You!’ laughed the gatekeeper, ‘marry the Steward? No chance! You’re covered in dust from the road! He won’t want you! I’d save your money and go home now!’
‘You never know,’ said the Princess ‘and anyway I’ve come all this way, I must try for the sake of my people.’
And with that she fed the last apple to the pony, patted his neck and set off into the winding spiral of the city to find the Steward, gift or no gift.
*´¨)
¸.•´¸.•*´¨) ¸.•*¨)
(¸.•´ (¸.•
Tonight the Steward would choose between the two ladies who remained from the many who had answered the call for possible brides. It had been easy to pick out those who failed on attractiveness or good breeding, and most of those the Steward’s advisor sent home seemed quite happy to go, having spent a jolly few days in the capitol.
It had been harder to whittle down the numbers on the basis of gentle manners and courteous behaviour, but at last only two candidates remained.
The Lady Amarylicent had arrived by river on a gilded barge attended by forty maidservants and protected by forty bodyguards. Her mauve pavilion was now pitched on the citadel green, where eighty pairs of feet had quickly turned the lush green to mud.
The Lady Berylonyx, meanwhile, possessed a pink pavilion, her tiny dainty foot never touching the ground, being ferried everywhere in a closed and perfumed litter carried by her team of long-suffering slaves.
And now the ladies stood before the Steward, ready to make their gifts, casting silent contemptuous glances at each other. The Steward’s advisor was just about to call the Lady Amarylicent forward when a commotion broke out at the throne room door. The advisor attended to the intrusion at once, and surprised all in the hall - himself included - by announcing...
‘A latecomer, my lord! The Lady Finduilas, Princess of Dol Amroth!’
At first only Lady Berylonyx could not stifle her giggles at the sight that appeared. But then Lady Amarylicent joined with her, and then all the room was laughing at the slip of girl before them, covered in dust and smuts, torn and blooded.
But the Steward did not laugh.
He rose from his place and smiled at the latecomer, took her hand and offered her a seat, a goblet of wine, and asked her to tell him of how she had come to be in such a state, she - a noble of Gondor!
The Princess felt her heart skip a beat as she looked into the Steward’s beautiful grey eyes and knew that it would take little for that heart to be lost to him. But first of all she took a sip of wine, a deep breath, and told the Steward all, of how word had reached the little castle by the sea of his search for a bride, the puzzle of what gift she could bring, of how the sea had provided the answer.
She told of her long journey across the land, of how the piebald pony had cast a shoe, of how she was set upon by a bandit, and how her last gold coin had been paid towards stabling her faithful companion.
‘And so, my Lord’ she concluded, ‘I can offer nothing of my land and my people except their loyalty and my voice, for you see that my pockets are empty.’
She turned her pockets inside out to show this, only to find that deep in the depths of one of them there still remained a single small, wrinkled apple from the orchard by the sea.
The Princess looked at the apple for a moment, then held it out.
‘I offer this too. The harvest has been poor and the people may go hungry if winter proves harsh, but we who live by the sea learn how to survive. And though this life may bruise and batter us on the outside…’
‘On the inside all is sweet and beautiful and true!’ the Steward finished for her.
‘Here is my bride!’ he announced to the stunned assembly. ‘The lady Finduilas, Princess of Dol Amroth shall be my wife!’
‘But…!’ stuttered Lady Amarylicent, ‘I bring you all the money gathered through raising our taxes threefold!’
‘But…!’ stammered Lady Berylonyx, ‘I bring you jewels hewn by slaves from the deepest and deadliest of our mines!’
‘But’ countered the Steward, ‘this apple is more precious than any of your gold or jewels could ever be. Forever it shall be held in the treasury of my heart.’
And with that the smiling Steward kissed his Princess and wrapped her in his own fur robe, leading her away from the confused and angry clamour to hear all she could tell him of the far away lands by the sea.
Author: Fawsley
Rating: As mild as possible!
Characters: Finduilas with a bit of Denethor and a touch of Imrahil
Archive: sons_of_gondor and my LJ
Summary: The Steward is in search of a bride. Not really het, more a celebration of feisty femaleness! Or should that be female feistiness?
Disclaimer: Tolkien's characters. I just take them a bit further down the road.
Feedback: Is like jelly and cake - always most welcome!
Comments: I'm taking advantage of the fact that the gurls are being allowed to play with the boys here now! I’ve never written Denethor and Finduilas before, nor have I ever written a fairy tale, but here they are in a little something that came to me in my sick-bed one afternoon.
Update: this story has been published in issue 207 (October 2007) of the Tolkien Society's Amon Hen magazine with wonderful illustrations by Jef Murray.
No warnings - it’s a fairy tale after all!
The Princess from the Sea
Word went out to the four corners of the land - the Steward was in need of a bride! Even as far away as the little castle on the coast was the message delivered, the little castle where a Prince and his sister lived by the sea.
‘I shall journey to the city of stone and attempt to marry the Steward’ announced the Princess, ‘for he knows little of this part of the kingdom and it would be good for our people if I were to speak for them.’
Her brother nodded in agreement.
‘It would indeed be good, dear sister. And I foresee a time to come when our houses would do well to be joined.’
The Prince read the missive again and frowned.
‘It says for you to take a gift for the Steward, something precious from your own lands, to be added to his treasury. This is difficult, for the harvest has been poor and all our little wealth must go towards keeping our people warm and fed and clothed should the winter prove harsh.’
The Princess pondered for a while, but could think of no suitable gift.
‘I shall walk by the sea, brother, as I always do when a problem must be solved. The sea always gives me an answer and I’m sure it will not fail me this time.’
So the Princess left the castle and followed the narrow stairs down the rugged cliff face to the sea. The great wheeling birds that flew so close did not bother her, nor did the wild spray as the waves crashed against the rocks, nor the terrible grey eternity stretching out before her.
Pulling her mantle around her shoulders, the Princess kicked off her shoes, wiggled her toes in the sand, and ran down to where land and sea met.
‘Sea, oh sea!’ she cried out ‘The Steward of the kingdom is in need of a bride. He knows little of the land or people by the sea and it would be well for my voice to be heard in the city of stone! But I must take a gift, and we have none that we can spare, for we are but a small, poor corner of the realm.’
Six gentle waves broke over the Princess’s feet, then a seventh much greater one. And as the waters receded she found that left behind in the wet sand were three bright gold coins. A fine gift for the Steward!
‘Thank you! Oh thank you sea! I knew you would help!’ cried the Princess, and she scampered back up the steep rocky stairs without bothering to put her shoes back on.
‘Look, brother! The sea has given an answer, as I knew it would! Three bright gold coins to offer to the Steward. I shall wear my gown with the deep pockets so the coins will be safe, and shall ride the piebald pony to the city of stone.’
*´¨)
¸.•´¸.•*´¨) ¸.•*¨)
(¸.•´ (¸.•
And so on the morrow the Prince kissed his sister and waved her farewell as she set out on her long journey across the realm. The road soon passed by orchards, and the Princess paused a while to fill her deep pockets with the small, sweet apples that grow by the sea.
Then onward she rode, singing merry songs to the piebald pony, who trotted happily along the road to the city.
But it was not many days after setting out that the piebald pony cast a shoe. The Princess dismounted and led the pony until they reached the next village where she sought out the blacksmith. The smith made a new shoe for the pony under the Princess’s watchful eye. All the time she sang softly to her mount, and when it was all over she fed him one of the little apples.
‘That will be one gold coin’ said the smith.
‘Well, so it must be,’ said the Princess, ‘though now I only have two gold coins to offer to the Steward whom I hope to marry.’
‘You?’ laughed the smith, ‘Marry the Steward? You must be joking! Look at yourself! All covered in smuts from the forge! He’s not going to look at you, let alone marry you!’
‘You never know’ countered the Princess, ‘and I must try for the sake of my people.’
And she hopped back onto the piebald pony and set off on her way.
But her songs were more thoughtful now, and the pony only walked.
*´¨)
¸.•´¸.•*´¨) ¸.•*¨)
(¸.•´ (¸.•
The days and the miles passed by and at last the Princess came to lands where the roots of the mountains came down close to the road. It is a dangerous place where bandits roam, but the Princess did not know this.
So when a masked man armed with a knife and a sword jumped out at her from behind a rock, she screamed in shock, the pony reared and the Princess tumbled off onto her hands and knees in the road.
‘Give me all your money!’ demanded the bandit.
The Princess stood up, dusted herself down and faced her adversary.
‘I have only two gold coins’ she told him ‘and they are a gift for the Steward whom I hope to marry.’
‘You? Marry the Steward? Don’t make me laugh! He’s not going to want you! Not with bloodied knees and a torn gown! He’ll turn you away as soon as he sees you! I’ll take just one gold coin - keep the other for your return journey, I’ll have it from you then!’
‘Well, so it must be’ said the Princess. ‘And you never know, he might marry me. Anyway, I must try for the sake of my people.’
As she watched the bandit melt away into the rocky landscape, the Princess rubbed the pony’s nose and fed him one of the apples. Then she hopped back into the saddle and continued on her way.
But her songs were now sad, and the pony only plodded.
*´¨)
¸.•´¸.•*´¨) ¸.•*¨)
(¸.•´ (¸.•
After many days they came at last to the city of stone. Never before had the Princess seen anything so magnificent! White towers gleamed in the sun and seemed to reach right into the sky. Noise and bustle and music reached her long before she reached the gate. The Princess was scared, but knew that she must go on.
At the gate her way was barred.
‘No strange horses allowed beyond the city walls!’ the gatekeeper informed her. ‘You’ll have to leave him in the stable here. That’ll be one gold coin please.’
‘Well’ said the Princess, ‘so it must be. But now I have no gift for the Steward whom I hope to marry.’
‘You!’ laughed the gatekeeper, ‘marry the Steward? No chance! You’re covered in dust from the road! He won’t want you! I’d save your money and go home now!’
‘You never know,’ said the Princess ‘and anyway I’ve come all this way, I must try for the sake of my people.’
And with that she fed the last apple to the pony, patted his neck and set off into the winding spiral of the city to find the Steward, gift or no gift.
*´¨)
¸.•´¸.•*´¨) ¸.•*¨)
(¸.•´ (¸.•
Tonight the Steward would choose between the two ladies who remained from the many who had answered the call for possible brides. It had been easy to pick out those who failed on attractiveness or good breeding, and most of those the Steward’s advisor sent home seemed quite happy to go, having spent a jolly few days in the capitol.
It had been harder to whittle down the numbers on the basis of gentle manners and courteous behaviour, but at last only two candidates remained.
The Lady Amarylicent had arrived by river on a gilded barge attended by forty maidservants and protected by forty bodyguards. Her mauve pavilion was now pitched on the citadel green, where eighty pairs of feet had quickly turned the lush green to mud.
The Lady Berylonyx, meanwhile, possessed a pink pavilion, her tiny dainty foot never touching the ground, being ferried everywhere in a closed and perfumed litter carried by her team of long-suffering slaves.
And now the ladies stood before the Steward, ready to make their gifts, casting silent contemptuous glances at each other. The Steward’s advisor was just about to call the Lady Amarylicent forward when a commotion broke out at the throne room door. The advisor attended to the intrusion at once, and surprised all in the hall - himself included - by announcing...
‘A latecomer, my lord! The Lady Finduilas, Princess of Dol Amroth!’
At first only Lady Berylonyx could not stifle her giggles at the sight that appeared. But then Lady Amarylicent joined with her, and then all the room was laughing at the slip of girl before them, covered in dust and smuts, torn and blooded.
But the Steward did not laugh.
He rose from his place and smiled at the latecomer, took her hand and offered her a seat, a goblet of wine, and asked her to tell him of how she had come to be in such a state, she - a noble of Gondor!
The Princess felt her heart skip a beat as she looked into the Steward’s beautiful grey eyes and knew that it would take little for that heart to be lost to him. But first of all she took a sip of wine, a deep breath, and told the Steward all, of how word had reached the little castle by the sea of his search for a bride, the puzzle of what gift she could bring, of how the sea had provided the answer.
She told of her long journey across the land, of how the piebald pony had cast a shoe, of how she was set upon by a bandit, and how her last gold coin had been paid towards stabling her faithful companion.
‘And so, my Lord’ she concluded, ‘I can offer nothing of my land and my people except their loyalty and my voice, for you see that my pockets are empty.’
She turned her pockets inside out to show this, only to find that deep in the depths of one of them there still remained a single small, wrinkled apple from the orchard by the sea.
The Princess looked at the apple for a moment, then held it out.
‘I offer this too. The harvest has been poor and the people may go hungry if winter proves harsh, but we who live by the sea learn how to survive. And though this life may bruise and batter us on the outside…’
‘On the inside all is sweet and beautiful and true!’ the Steward finished for her.
‘Here is my bride!’ he announced to the stunned assembly. ‘The lady Finduilas, Princess of Dol Amroth shall be my wife!’
‘But…!’ stuttered Lady Amarylicent, ‘I bring you all the money gathered through raising our taxes threefold!’
‘But…!’ stammered Lady Berylonyx, ‘I bring you jewels hewn by slaves from the deepest and deadliest of our mines!’
‘But’ countered the Steward, ‘this apple is more precious than any of your gold or jewels could ever be. Forever it shall be held in the treasury of my heart.’
And with that the smiling Steward kissed his Princess and wrapped her in his own fur robe, leading her away from the confused and angry clamour to hear all she could tell him of the far away lands by the sea.