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b2memB2MeM Prompt:B10 (Rowan), Card:Botony and Number:25
Format:vignette
Genre:gen
Rating:gen
Warnings:none
Characters:Frodo, Elrond
Pairings:none
Creator’s Notes (optional):With a very loose and passing nod to the tale of the goddess Hebe's chalice, and the eagle.
Summary:A little discussion on gardening and other matters, between friends.
LIFE FROM DEATH
“Good morning, Frodo.”
Frodo leaned back upon his heels, bringing up a hand to shield his eyes against the midday sun. The tall figure was just a dark outline against the brilliance, but he knew the voice well. “Good morning, Elrond. Have you come to help me weed this border? The marigolds have become little bullies and are like to strangle my forget-me-nots if I do not root them out.”
Elrond chuckled, moving out of the sun to reveal that he carried a small plant in a fine clay pot. “I leave the gardening to my lady but, if you have a sack, I shall be more than willing to relieve you of your marigolds. They make a very good healing salve.” Noting that Frodo was almost breaking his neck to see him, Elrond dropped elegantly, to sit cross legged upon the lawn at his side.
Frodo raked together the evidence of his efforts. “You may have them, with my blessing. They are destined for the compost heap otherwise. What may I do for you? Would you like some luncheon?”
“Thank you, but I have already eaten. I came to bring you this.” He held out the pot, with it's delicate plant.
Frodo accepted it, bending to study. “Why, it's a rowan tree. How lovely. I have seen these in many gardens, here in the west. Thankyou.”
“It is a much revered plant and is considered to symbolise courage, wisdom and protection.”
“Really? I wonder why.” Frodo ran a muddy finger along one feather-like bract of leaves.
“You have heard the tale of how Fingolfin led our people across the grinding ice of Helcaraxe, and then held Morgoth at bay for nearly four hundred years, to protect Middle earth?”
“I have, indeed. The minstrels often sing of his lone, mighty battle against the dark Morgoth himself. It always saddens me that such bravery was not rewarded with success.” Beneath one frond of leaves he discovered a small cluster of bright red berries.
“Indeed. Good deeds are not always rewarded as we would like. Legend has it that Thorondor, the king of the eagles, carried Fingolfin's slain and broken body to the mountain top above Gondolin. It is told that, wherever a drop of Fingolfin's blood fell, a rowan tree sprang up. That is why they are most often found growing naturally upon the heights. The leaves resemble large feathers in the way that they form, symmetrically, along the stem, and the berries represent blood.”
“Is the legend true, do you think?” Frodo asked.
“I do not know, but is it not an inspiring thought, that something so beautiful could spring from such pain.”
Frodo smiled, blue eyes sparkling. “It is.” He held the sapling up before his face, addressing it directly. “Now, where shall I plant you? How would you like that little corner by the gate? And when you are big and strong I shall make some nice rowan jelly from your berries.”
Elrond nodded. Perhaps Frodo would live long enough to do that.
END
Format:vignette
Genre:gen
Rating:gen
Warnings:none
Characters:Frodo, Elrond
Pairings:none
Creator’s Notes (optional):With a very loose and passing nod to the tale of the goddess Hebe's chalice, and the eagle.
Summary:A little discussion on gardening and other matters, between friends.
LIFE FROM DEATH
“Good morning, Frodo.”
Frodo leaned back upon his heels, bringing up a hand to shield his eyes against the midday sun. The tall figure was just a dark outline against the brilliance, but he knew the voice well. “Good morning, Elrond. Have you come to help me weed this border? The marigolds have become little bullies and are like to strangle my forget-me-nots if I do not root them out.”
Elrond chuckled, moving out of the sun to reveal that he carried a small plant in a fine clay pot. “I leave the gardening to my lady but, if you have a sack, I shall be more than willing to relieve you of your marigolds. They make a very good healing salve.” Noting that Frodo was almost breaking his neck to see him, Elrond dropped elegantly, to sit cross legged upon the lawn at his side.
Frodo raked together the evidence of his efforts. “You may have them, with my blessing. They are destined for the compost heap otherwise. What may I do for you? Would you like some luncheon?”
“Thank you, but I have already eaten. I came to bring you this.” He held out the pot, with it's delicate plant.
Frodo accepted it, bending to study. “Why, it's a rowan tree. How lovely. I have seen these in many gardens, here in the west. Thankyou.”
“It is a much revered plant and is considered to symbolise courage, wisdom and protection.”
“Really? I wonder why.” Frodo ran a muddy finger along one feather-like bract of leaves.
“You have heard the tale of how Fingolfin led our people across the grinding ice of Helcaraxe, and then held Morgoth at bay for nearly four hundred years, to protect Middle earth?”
“I have, indeed. The minstrels often sing of his lone, mighty battle against the dark Morgoth himself. It always saddens me that such bravery was not rewarded with success.” Beneath one frond of leaves he discovered a small cluster of bright red berries.
“Indeed. Good deeds are not always rewarded as we would like. Legend has it that Thorondor, the king of the eagles, carried Fingolfin's slain and broken body to the mountain top above Gondolin. It is told that, wherever a drop of Fingolfin's blood fell, a rowan tree sprang up. That is why they are most often found growing naturally upon the heights. The leaves resemble large feathers in the way that they form, symmetrically, along the stem, and the berries represent blood.”
“Is the legend true, do you think?” Frodo asked.
“I do not know, but is it not an inspiring thought, that something so beautiful could spring from such pain.”
Frodo smiled, blue eyes sparkling. “It is.” He held the sapling up before his face, addressing it directly. “Now, where shall I plant you? How would you like that little corner by the gate? And when you are big and strong I shall make some nice rowan jelly from your berries.”
Elrond nodded. Perhaps Frodo would live long enough to do that.
END
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