(no subject)
Title: Sea Dreaming
Author: Kortirion
Character: Lady Finduilas
Rating: G
Source: Pre-Ring War
Disclaimer: Tolkien’s canon, Kortirion’s addditions.
BEACH
My Lady Finduilas’ garden was tucked away, walled off from those of the Houses of Healing; her own private space constructed from Lord Denethor’s love… and her heartache.
How she missed the beaches of Dol Amroth… the great skies blue as the water beneath, soft sand under her running feet when she charged, laughing, down to the sea… where vast waters endlessly scalloped and hemmed the shores with lacy ripples.
Denethor had barrels of beach-sand brought up river to make paths around her bower, but that was estuary mud; slippery in the rain, or baked stone-hard under wind and sun.
BAY
It was her father who guessed her plight, maybe from her letters, and sent barrels of fine soft sand, and another full of sea shells. Escorting them were a mason and his ‘prentice; between them they constructed a bay against the citadel wall. An alcoved seat, sheltered from the winds, overlooking a rounded bowl with a tinkling fountain. The grotto’s walls were studded with sea-shells, and its floor a beach of fine, white sand...
Lady Finduilas loved to sit there barefoot... she said, if she closed her eyes, she could dream the winds came across the bay from the sea.
Author: Kortirion
Character: Lady Finduilas
Rating: G
Source: Pre-Ring War
Disclaimer: Tolkien’s canon, Kortirion’s addditions.
BEACH
My Lady Finduilas’ garden was tucked away, walled off from those of the Houses of Healing; her own private space constructed from Lord Denethor’s love… and her heartache.
How she missed the beaches of Dol Amroth… the great skies blue as the water beneath, soft sand under her running feet when she charged, laughing, down to the sea… where vast waters endlessly scalloped and hemmed the shores with lacy ripples.
Denethor had barrels of beach-sand brought up river to make paths around her bower, but that was estuary mud; slippery in the rain, or baked stone-hard under wind and sun.
BAY
It was her father who guessed her plight, maybe from her letters, and sent barrels of fine soft sand, and another full of sea shells. Escorting them were a mason and his ‘prentice; between them they constructed a bay against the citadel wall. An alcoved seat, sheltered from the winds, overlooking a rounded bowl with a tinkling fountain. The grotto’s walls were studded with sea-shells, and its floor a beach of fine, white sand...
Lady Finduilas loved to sit there barefoot... she said, if she closed her eyes, she could dream the winds came across the bay from the sea.