tanaquific (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tanaquific) wrote2013-01-20 11:50 am
tanaquific) wrote2013-01-20 11:50 am
Entry tags:
Ficlet: Tolkien - And There Make A Garden - General
Title: And There Make A Garden
Fandom: Tolkien
Rating: General
Contains: Nothing beyond canon
Words: 436 words
Summary: Faramir knows exactly where to find his wife when she returns from paying a visit to one of the other noble ladies of Gondor.
Author's Note: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
queenmidalah's ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandom_stocking. Thanks to Scribbler (scribblesinink) for the beta.
oOo
Faramir knew exactly where to find his wife when his seneschal reported she had returned from Lebennin an hour earlier.
"What did you bring back this time?" Leaning against the doorframe of the half-glazed lean-to built into a corner of the walled kitchen garden, Faramir nodded at where Éowyn was carefully lifting pots out of a small wooden chest. The inside was divided neatly into squares, each just big enough to hold a small cloam pot securely, with a longer compartment at one end that was home to a sharp knife, and twine, and a tiny trowel, and a dozen other garden sundries....
"Bee balm." Éowyn gestured with the pot she was holding, before setting it down. "Rose bay. Comfrey. Sweet elder. And some lily bulbs." She indicated each of the other pots in turn as she named their contents, before pointing to a small sack lying next to them. Glancing up, she must have caught Faramir's amusement in his expression. "I did ask first, you know!"
"I'm sure you did." Faramir remembered the uproar, a few weeks after they were first married, when she had been caught by the Lady of Lamedon's gardeners sneaking out at dawn to take cuttings of Lamedon's famed jasmine. It was not so much the "theft" that had caused the trouble but that everyone had been quite mystified as to why the Lady of Ithilien had not simply made the request to her hostess, who would surely have willingly given the order to her gardeners to provide.
Faramir, of course, already knew the satisfaction his wild shieldmaiden of the North was taking in making her garden herself, and guessed she had feared causing exactly such an uproar if she had asked to take the cuttings with her own hands. Since then, however, the nobles of Gondor had become accustomed to the White Lady's foibles, even if they still shook their heads in wonder or disapproval.
Now, watching his wife at work, Faramir took his own pleasure from observing her as she gently fussed at one of the plants, picking off a dead leaf.
"I suppose we'll need to extend the garden again," he hazarded, thinking he had seen no unplanted beds as he made his way along the paths to greet her.
"Maybe." She gave him a look from under her lashes that he knew all too well: he suspected she had been planning exactly what changes she wanted to make all the way back from Lebennin.
Closing the distance between them, he slipped an arm around her waist and dropped a kiss in her hair. "Welcome home," he murmured.
Fandom: Tolkien
Rating: General
Contains: Nothing beyond canon
Words: 436 words
Summary: Faramir knows exactly where to find his wife when she returns from paying a visit to one of the other noble ladies of Gondor.
Author's Note: Written for
queenmidalah's fandom_stocking. Thanks to Scribbler (scribblesinink) for the beta.Faramir knew exactly where to find his wife when his seneschal reported she had returned from Lebennin an hour earlier.
"What did you bring back this time?" Leaning against the doorframe of the half-glazed lean-to built into a corner of the walled kitchen garden, Faramir nodded at where Éowyn was carefully lifting pots out of a small wooden chest. The inside was divided neatly into squares, each just big enough to hold a small cloam pot securely, with a longer compartment at one end that was home to a sharp knife, and twine, and a tiny trowel, and a dozen other garden sundries....
"Bee balm." Éowyn gestured with the pot she was holding, before setting it down. "Rose bay. Comfrey. Sweet elder. And some lily bulbs." She indicated each of the other pots in turn as she named their contents, before pointing to a small sack lying next to them. Glancing up, she must have caught Faramir's amusement in his expression. "I did ask first, you know!"
"I'm sure you did." Faramir remembered the uproar, a few weeks after they were first married, when she had been caught by the Lady of Lamedon's gardeners sneaking out at dawn to take cuttings of Lamedon's famed jasmine. It was not so much the "theft" that had caused the trouble but that everyone had been quite mystified as to why the Lady of Ithilien had not simply made the request to her hostess, who would surely have willingly given the order to her gardeners to provide.
Faramir, of course, already knew the satisfaction his wild shieldmaiden of the North was taking in making her garden herself, and guessed she had feared causing exactly such an uproar if she had asked to take the cuttings with her own hands. Since then, however, the nobles of Gondor had become accustomed to the White Lady's foibles, even if they still shook their heads in wonder or disapproval.
Now, watching his wife at work, Faramir took his own pleasure from observing her as she gently fussed at one of the plants, picking off a dead leaf.
"I suppose we'll need to extend the garden again," he hazarded, thinking he had seen no unplanted beds as he made his way along the paths to greet her.
"Maybe." She gave him a look from under her lashes that he knew all too well: he suspected she had been planning exactly what changes she wanted to make all the way back from Lebennin.
Closing the distance between them, he slipped an arm around her waist and dropped a kiss in her hair. "Welcome home," he murmured.