Sea Places challenge: Cliff: Shoreline: Harbour: Open Water - a drabble pair
Title: Always There Are Far-off Shores, a drabble pair
Author: Kortirion
Character: Lady Finduilas
Rating: G
Source: Pre-Ring War
Disclaimer: Tolkien’s canon… slightly subverted.
When Lady Finduilas first approached Minas Tirith she couldn’t help comparing the city’s rising tiers to stone cliffs soaring above the gathering green shoreline of the Pelennor . The rolling plain of wind-blown grasses dipped and swooped like the seas she was used to. Even the cultivated fields lapping the walls, bright with Sunflowers, corn, golden wheat… with rounded trees dotted with reddening fruit… resembled distant golden beaches, strewn with hummocked rocks.
Inside the Stone City, perched high above the bustle of ordinary people, she felt even more the captive sea-bird marooned on a cliff-face, unable to spread her wings.
Finduilas grew used to over-tall rooms, chilly in winter; stifling in summer when breezes rarely seemed to counteract the city’s glimmering heat-haze.
She had her special garden, her escorted trips to Anduin’s banks to watch the waters. She had his love, and for a while, convinced herself this place was a comfortable harbour… Finduilas had brought few servants; two maids for her bed-chamber, and faithful amah… body-guard, confidante… Denethor hated the woman… that she might know what he didn’t.
It was the amah stole her lady’s ashes, scattering them on open waters, rather than leave them trapped in cold stones.
Author: Kortirion
Character: Lady Finduilas
Rating: G
Source: Pre-Ring War
Disclaimer: Tolkien’s canon… slightly subverted.
When Lady Finduilas first approached Minas Tirith she couldn’t help comparing the city’s rising tiers to stone cliffs soaring above the gathering green shoreline of the Pelennor . The rolling plain of wind-blown grasses dipped and swooped like the seas she was used to. Even the cultivated fields lapping the walls, bright with Sunflowers, corn, golden wheat… with rounded trees dotted with reddening fruit… resembled distant golden beaches, strewn with hummocked rocks.
Inside the Stone City, perched high above the bustle of ordinary people, she felt even more the captive sea-bird marooned on a cliff-face, unable to spread her wings.
Finduilas grew used to over-tall rooms, chilly in winter; stifling in summer when breezes rarely seemed to counteract the city’s glimmering heat-haze.
She had her special garden, her escorted trips to Anduin’s banks to watch the waters. She had his love, and for a while, convinced herself this place was a comfortable harbour… Finduilas had brought few servants; two maids for her bed-chamber, and faithful amah… body-guard, confidante… Denethor hated the woman… that she might know what he didn’t.
It was the amah stole her lady’s ashes, scattering them on open waters, rather than leave them trapped in cold stones.