'The sea-gift well hath throve' by Himring

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Fanwork Notes

This is a drabble written for lferion's moodboard Love's Garden, which incorporates a poem (for which also see end notes).

When posted as a Scribbles & Drabbles prompt, as far as I remember, the prompt asked for different characters.

For this challenge, I have taken the liberty of setting my piece in early Numenor instead, because it seemed to fit the theme.

 

 

Fanwork Information

Summary:

It is a bit nerve-wracking, courting a princess of the House of Elros.

Elatan of Andunie hopes he is up to her standards.

Major Characters: Elatan of Andúnië, Silmarien

Major Relationships: Elatan of Andúnië/Silmariën

Genre: Fixed-Length Ficlet

Challenges: Understory

Rating: General

Warnings:

Chapters: 1 Word Count: 101
Posted on 14 January 2024 Updated on 14 January 2024

This fanwork is complete.

'The sea-gift well hath throve'

(The piece is 100 words in MS Word, although SWG is counting it differently.)

Read 'The sea-gift well hath throve'

‘This way.’

Elatan ushered Silmarien out of the backdoor and daringly took her by the hand. If the law had been different, Silmarien would have been Queen and resided in Armenelos. He so hoped she could be happy in Andunie.

‘I planted an apple grove for you and a flower garden,’ he said nervously. ‘The trees are just saplings, but the flowers are coming along nicely.’

‘Very nicely!’ said Silmarien and bent to pluck a celandine. ‘But what’s that smell?’

‘Oh. Pilchards.’

‘Pilchards?’

‘Fertilizer,’ said Elatan, reluctantly.

‘Fishy roots?!’

He realized she was teasing, when she laughed and kissed him.

Chapter End Notes

 

Quoting the poem from lferion's artwork, which also supplied the title:

O, I'll make my love a garden
Down by the apple grove
And in it I will straitly plant
The flowers that they love

Midst cowslips, harebells, elanor
Rosemary and clove.
And at their roots the pilchard put
My steadfast heart to prove

Though fishy at the roots my dear
Desire shows above
Celandine and niphredil
The sea-gift well hath throve

With ivy twine the sweet woodbine
And we shall sing like doves
To keep your garden green my love
With pilchards plant the grove

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