Children of the Sea by Alma Heart
Apr. 5th, 2013 10:54 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
almaheart.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
b2memB2MeM Challenge: March 26 - Ulmo
Format: ficlet (1443 wds)
Genre: gen, family (of a sort)
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Characters: Faramir, two Telcontar-let OFCs
Pairings: implied canon marriages
Summary: The Royal and Steward families spend some down-time in Dol Amroth. Faramir tells stories to the princesses.
Quote:
"Thus news comes to Ulmo, even in the deeps, of all the needs and griefs of Arda, which otherwise would be hidden from Manwë."
A/N: Finishing up my WIPs, or trying to. Also, finally introducing my head-canon princesses of Gondor!
Up ahead, the queen and her son basked in the lapping of the waves, while Eowyn and Aragorn tried to coax Elboron into the water. Though somewhat uncertain, the boy seemed to be growing used to the idea of the sea.
Faramir, farther along the shore, found the twin princesses drawn to a tide pool, looking at the marvelous shells hidden in the sheltered area. He went down towards them. “Did you find anything interesting, my ladies?”
Celrean reached a sandy hand towards him. “Come look at this, Uncle Faramir!” Her sister followed the water with her toes, salt crusted in her hair, grinning.
He obligingly crossed the rocky outcroppings to the little inlet where they crouched. In Aramiel’s hands a dark, soaking piece of kelp tossed in the waves even as she tried to braid its free ends. Celraen, meanwhile, held up a sun-bleached, sea-smooth piece of coral bone.
The water lapped gaily at his heels, and the little girls smiled at him as he crouched down. “Aren’t they lovely?” Celrean asked.
Faramir smiled. “Yes. The sea hides many gifts, waiting for the right ones to find them.”
Aramiel tugged her kelp against the grip of the tide, trying to keep it still. Despite her intense concentration on her garland, her attention flitted up to Faramir. “Didn’t you come here a lot when you were little, Uncle?”
“I did. My mother grew up here, and returned often.” A particularly strong wave crested a little too close, spraying them with fine mist. Aramiel laughed, spitting out the salt, while Celrean shook her hair, spraying Faramir further and setting him chuckling.
The rumbling of the waves filled the air, and the distant horizon weaved with the sea’s weight. Faramir closed his eyes as the wind strafed his face. He had not returned here in too long, it seemed.
“Uncle?” A wet hand brushed his arm, and he smiled down at the two girls who looked up at him curiously.
“Are you tired?” Aramiel asked, for all the world sounding like her mother, ready to bundle him off to bed if she could.
Faramir shook. “No. No.” He looked out at the horizon, and breathed in the salty air. “No, I was just remembering other times I’ve been on this beach. There were many.”
Aramiel continued to look at him shrewdly, but Celraen seemed contented with the answer. She rose to her feet, stretching, and followed Faramir’s eyes out to the horizon. “It’s so big. Uncle, has anyone ever crossed it?”
“No men. The elves did, and still some will. But it is too big for you or I to imagine, much less cross.”
She stepped out into the waves, making her sister squeak at her splashing. Celraen’s hair flew back from her proud, pale face to behold the shifting road of her ancestors.
Celraen smiled. “I like it. I feel like I’ve always wanted to come here.”
Aramiel held out her finished garland to Faramir. “You always have!”
Before they argue, for he could see Celraen bristle a little at the interruption, Faramir raised a hand. “I did, too, when I was your age. It runs in our blood to love the sea.”
They looked at him brightly, catching onto some hint of a story in his voice, and Faramir, had he been a fainter man, may have quailed at such intense interest. But, having been long ago nominated the girls’ third favorite storyteller after their mother and father, he possessed fortitude enough to beam at them as they sloshed back to his side.
“It’s an inheritance you have from both your parents.” There were a great many ways to proceed from that, but he chose the simplest. “Once, long ago, your mother’s people crossed the sea, and it is said that they never forgot.”
The girls’ eyes lit up, for there were few people they both adored more than their mother, and they had been much impressed by their biological uncles on various visits.
Up ahead, Arwen looked back and gestured at Faramir. He nodded, and turned to his companions. “It will be getting towards dinner soon. Shall we walk back to my Uncle’s?”
The twins nodded and fell into step beside him as he walked after the others. Aramiel tugged on Faramir’s hand. “But, you didn’t finish, Uncle. You aren’t in Nana’s family. Where did you get it in you?” Her sister skipped to catch up, looking up at him with bright interest.
They were thirteen now, almost old enough to know of Numenor, but he would leave it to their parents to determine when they were old enough for that tale. It was not his place. So, instead, he spoke more simply.
“Once there was a land of our people, your father’s and I, out on the sea. Farther than you can see on the horizon.” He gestured widely at the endless blue of the western sky. “And there my and his ancestors dwelt for many years, granted prosperity and life by the grace of the sea.”
Standing here on the beach, looking down at these little girls, so lovely, like their mother, and proud, too, all the pride of Numenor in these children, peace filled him. He hoped, somewhere out there on the bottom of the sea, his drowned kin felt this joy.
“And, when the time came for that land to die, it was the sea who delivered your ancestors, and mine, safe and sound to these shores. My kin landed here, on this coast, and stayed, on my mother’s side at least, while my father’s ancestors, and your fathers’ moved on. But we all came the same way.” Celraen’s hand found his free one, and he walked between the two princesses. “Had the sea not loved us, we would not walk on this beach here together. And this is why we love the sea.”
A quick glance ahead found that Elboron had run to look at something with his wife, Aragorn standing smiling, with his arms around his fair queen, while Arwen basked in the tide’s breeze. They could wait a moment. Faramir glanced at the girls, and halted. They crouched down as he did at the wave’s edge, with gleeful, mystified eyes.
He did not want to tell them how Numenor sank, not yet. But, looking out at the sea, he was moved to something gentler. When his son was a little older, he would tell him the same thing, but for now, he was content to offer Finduilas’ smiling memory to these precious girls who smiled at him so brightly.
“My mother used to tell me stories,” Faramir said softly, “that if you put your hands in the water, Ulmo could hear your wishes.”
Twin pairs of grey eyes regarded him with awe. “Is it true?”
He’d never liked lying to children, and so he did not. Faramir shrugged. “ I do not know. But all of us, once upon a time, came from the sea. And I know that, a few times, I have spoken to him of things that perplexed me, and afterwards received an answer. Take that as you will.”
He knelt there in the sand, feeling the water splash about him. He’d often in his life dreamed of the drowning of Numenor, but not in a while, and not for years with the sharp edge of fear it had brought in his youth. He dreamed now more of these waves lapping about his feet, and the soft sand where Ulmo had laid his ancestors, unharmed. Sometimes he wished he knew better ways of showing gratitude to the Valar, if only because it would tell him if any he’d tried had given enough.
Faramir smiled and set his hands in the water. Gamely, the two girls did so, too.
Silently, he thanked Numenor that was, and the forces that had sent its exiles to this soil, let him walk this place in peace, with his wife and son, his king and queen, his princesses and his prince. There was much to be thankful for. “You may ask him whatever you wish, so long as you thank him.”
“What are you going to ask for, Uncle?”
Faramir considered. “I will ask for peace and happiness for the land I love, and those I love in it. And prosperity and joy for my King and Queen.”
“For Nana and Ada.” Celraen beamed. “I’ll ask for that too.”
Aramiel nodded happily, closed her eyes, and asked the waves. As Celraen added her voice to the soft, gentle prayer, Faramir felt the foam splash playfully over his hands.
And, somehow, he felt this time they were heard.
Format: ficlet (1443 wds)
Genre: gen, family (of a sort)
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Characters: Faramir, two Telcontar-let OFCs
Pairings: implied canon marriages
Summary: The Royal and Steward families spend some down-time in Dol Amroth. Faramir tells stories to the princesses.
Quote:
"Thus news comes to Ulmo, even in the deeps, of all the needs and griefs of Arda, which otherwise would be hidden from Manwë."
A/N: Finishing up my WIPs, or trying to. Also, finally introducing my head-canon princesses of Gondor!
Up ahead, the queen and her son basked in the lapping of the waves, while Eowyn and Aragorn tried to coax Elboron into the water. Though somewhat uncertain, the boy seemed to be growing used to the idea of the sea.
Faramir, farther along the shore, found the twin princesses drawn to a tide pool, looking at the marvelous shells hidden in the sheltered area. He went down towards them. “Did you find anything interesting, my ladies?”
Celrean reached a sandy hand towards him. “Come look at this, Uncle Faramir!” Her sister followed the water with her toes, salt crusted in her hair, grinning.
He obligingly crossed the rocky outcroppings to the little inlet where they crouched. In Aramiel’s hands a dark, soaking piece of kelp tossed in the waves even as she tried to braid its free ends. Celraen, meanwhile, held up a sun-bleached, sea-smooth piece of coral bone.
The water lapped gaily at his heels, and the little girls smiled at him as he crouched down. “Aren’t they lovely?” Celrean asked.
Faramir smiled. “Yes. The sea hides many gifts, waiting for the right ones to find them.”
Aramiel tugged her kelp against the grip of the tide, trying to keep it still. Despite her intense concentration on her garland, her attention flitted up to Faramir. “Didn’t you come here a lot when you were little, Uncle?”
“I did. My mother grew up here, and returned often.” A particularly strong wave crested a little too close, spraying them with fine mist. Aramiel laughed, spitting out the salt, while Celrean shook her hair, spraying Faramir further and setting him chuckling.
The rumbling of the waves filled the air, and the distant horizon weaved with the sea’s weight. Faramir closed his eyes as the wind strafed his face. He had not returned here in too long, it seemed.
“Uncle?” A wet hand brushed his arm, and he smiled down at the two girls who looked up at him curiously.
“Are you tired?” Aramiel asked, for all the world sounding like her mother, ready to bundle him off to bed if she could.
Faramir shook. “No. No.” He looked out at the horizon, and breathed in the salty air. “No, I was just remembering other times I’ve been on this beach. There were many.”
Aramiel continued to look at him shrewdly, but Celraen seemed contented with the answer. She rose to her feet, stretching, and followed Faramir’s eyes out to the horizon. “It’s so big. Uncle, has anyone ever crossed it?”
“No men. The elves did, and still some will. But it is too big for you or I to imagine, much less cross.”
She stepped out into the waves, making her sister squeak at her splashing. Celraen’s hair flew back from her proud, pale face to behold the shifting road of her ancestors.
Celraen smiled. “I like it. I feel like I’ve always wanted to come here.”
Aramiel held out her finished garland to Faramir. “You always have!”
Before they argue, for he could see Celraen bristle a little at the interruption, Faramir raised a hand. “I did, too, when I was your age. It runs in our blood to love the sea.”
They looked at him brightly, catching onto some hint of a story in his voice, and Faramir, had he been a fainter man, may have quailed at such intense interest. But, having been long ago nominated the girls’ third favorite storyteller after their mother and father, he possessed fortitude enough to beam at them as they sloshed back to his side.
“It’s an inheritance you have from both your parents.” There were a great many ways to proceed from that, but he chose the simplest. “Once, long ago, your mother’s people crossed the sea, and it is said that they never forgot.”
The girls’ eyes lit up, for there were few people they both adored more than their mother, and they had been much impressed by their biological uncles on various visits.
Up ahead, Arwen looked back and gestured at Faramir. He nodded, and turned to his companions. “It will be getting towards dinner soon. Shall we walk back to my Uncle’s?”
The twins nodded and fell into step beside him as he walked after the others. Aramiel tugged on Faramir’s hand. “But, you didn’t finish, Uncle. You aren’t in Nana’s family. Where did you get it in you?” Her sister skipped to catch up, looking up at him with bright interest.
They were thirteen now, almost old enough to know of Numenor, but he would leave it to their parents to determine when they were old enough for that tale. It was not his place. So, instead, he spoke more simply.
“Once there was a land of our people, your father’s and I, out on the sea. Farther than you can see on the horizon.” He gestured widely at the endless blue of the western sky. “And there my and his ancestors dwelt for many years, granted prosperity and life by the grace of the sea.”
Standing here on the beach, looking down at these little girls, so lovely, like their mother, and proud, too, all the pride of Numenor in these children, peace filled him. He hoped, somewhere out there on the bottom of the sea, his drowned kin felt this joy.
“And, when the time came for that land to die, it was the sea who delivered your ancestors, and mine, safe and sound to these shores. My kin landed here, on this coast, and stayed, on my mother’s side at least, while my father’s ancestors, and your fathers’ moved on. But we all came the same way.” Celraen’s hand found his free one, and he walked between the two princesses. “Had the sea not loved us, we would not walk on this beach here together. And this is why we love the sea.”
A quick glance ahead found that Elboron had run to look at something with his wife, Aragorn standing smiling, with his arms around his fair queen, while Arwen basked in the tide’s breeze. They could wait a moment. Faramir glanced at the girls, and halted. They crouched down as he did at the wave’s edge, with gleeful, mystified eyes.
He did not want to tell them how Numenor sank, not yet. But, looking out at the sea, he was moved to something gentler. When his son was a little older, he would tell him the same thing, but for now, he was content to offer Finduilas’ smiling memory to these precious girls who smiled at him so brightly.
“My mother used to tell me stories,” Faramir said softly, “that if you put your hands in the water, Ulmo could hear your wishes.”
Twin pairs of grey eyes regarded him with awe. “Is it true?”
He’d never liked lying to children, and so he did not. Faramir shrugged. “ I do not know. But all of us, once upon a time, came from the sea. And I know that, a few times, I have spoken to him of things that perplexed me, and afterwards received an answer. Take that as you will.”
He knelt there in the sand, feeling the water splash about him. He’d often in his life dreamed of the drowning of Numenor, but not in a while, and not for years with the sharp edge of fear it had brought in his youth. He dreamed now more of these waves lapping about his feet, and the soft sand where Ulmo had laid his ancestors, unharmed. Sometimes he wished he knew better ways of showing gratitude to the Valar, if only because it would tell him if any he’d tried had given enough.
Faramir smiled and set his hands in the water. Gamely, the two girls did so, too.
Silently, he thanked Numenor that was, and the forces that had sent its exiles to this soil, let him walk this place in peace, with his wife and son, his king and queen, his princesses and his prince. There was much to be thankful for. “You may ask him whatever you wish, so long as you thank him.”
“What are you going to ask for, Uncle?”
Faramir considered. “I will ask for peace and happiness for the land I love, and those I love in it. And prosperity and joy for my King and Queen.”
“For Nana and Ada.” Celraen beamed. “I’ll ask for that too.”
Aramiel nodded happily, closed her eyes, and asked the waves. As Celraen added her voice to the soft, gentle prayer, Faramir felt the foam splash playfully over his hands.
And, somehow, he felt this time they were heard.
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Date: 2013-04-06 12:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-04-13 10:09 pm (UTC)