Post by Admin on Jan 8, 2021 2:02:26 GMT
Author: Darkover
Rating: K
Summary: Sometimes so much rests on seemingly little things, and the memories that scent invokes should not be underestimated.
Disclaimer: The characters of “Lord of the Rings” were created by J.R.R. Tolkien, not by me. I am merely borrowing them as a way of paying tribute to his genius. I am sure the professor would understand that, and would not wish for anyone to sue me.
Whenever Faramir smelled roses, he thought of his mother.
The sweetness of their scent had also been her trademark perfume when he was a small child, and he had smelled it often when nestled in her arms. And although he had been only five years old when she died, he still remembered her more vividly than most folk would have given him credit for. Their father did not encourage reminiscences about Finduilas, so Faramir seldom spoke of his memories of her to anyone except Boromir. Even then, such conversations had occurred mostly when the two of them were still boys, and always when they were alone with each other.
But some of the most vivid memories of his mother were when she had been gardening, and he had “helped” her. Finduilas had loved to plant and tend roses most of all. It was the scent of roses, therefore, that he associated most with beauty, love, peace, goodness, and safety.
After her death, when he visited Lossarnach for the first time, the smell of the roses of Imloth Melui brought tears to his eyes. Secretly after that, he carried a little vial of scent from those roses, and it helped sustain him in the darker days of Gondor, especially following particularly bloody battles with Orcs. Nothing, Faramir believed, could smell as wonderful as roses.
~ooo0ooo~
Faramir…come to me…
Stumbling around in the darkness and despair caused by the Black Breath, Faramir could hear the voice, but did not know how to follow it. The voice had not been loud and clear even at first, and was becoming fainter all the while. Then he smelled something, strong and clear. It smelled just like the roses at Imloth Melui. That, more than anything, made it clear that he must follow the voice. And it led him to the owner of the voice, a man so tall and fair, with a bright light shining from his brow, that he momentarily appeared to be one of the Valar.
It was not until later that Faramir knew that the scent that reminded him so much of roses was in fact the scent of athelas leaves. But he was left in no doubt as to the goodness and rightness of the one who had used that scent to summon him.
“My lord, you called me. I come. What does the King command?”
Rating: K
Summary: Sometimes so much rests on seemingly little things, and the memories that scent invokes should not be underestimated.
Disclaimer: The characters of “Lord of the Rings” were created by J.R.R. Tolkien, not by me. I am merely borrowing them as a way of paying tribute to his genius. I am sure the professor would understand that, and would not wish for anyone to sue me.
Whenever Faramir smelled roses, he thought of his mother.
The sweetness of their scent had also been her trademark perfume when he was a small child, and he had smelled it often when nestled in her arms. And although he had been only five years old when she died, he still remembered her more vividly than most folk would have given him credit for. Their father did not encourage reminiscences about Finduilas, so Faramir seldom spoke of his memories of her to anyone except Boromir. Even then, such conversations had occurred mostly when the two of them were still boys, and always when they were alone with each other.
But some of the most vivid memories of his mother were when she had been gardening, and he had “helped” her. Finduilas had loved to plant and tend roses most of all. It was the scent of roses, therefore, that he associated most with beauty, love, peace, goodness, and safety.
After her death, when he visited Lossarnach for the first time, the smell of the roses of Imloth Melui brought tears to his eyes. Secretly after that, he carried a little vial of scent from those roses, and it helped sustain him in the darker days of Gondor, especially following particularly bloody battles with Orcs. Nothing, Faramir believed, could smell as wonderful as roses.
~ooo0ooo~
Faramir…come to me…
Stumbling around in the darkness and despair caused by the Black Breath, Faramir could hear the voice, but did not know how to follow it. The voice had not been loud and clear even at first, and was becoming fainter all the while. Then he smelled something, strong and clear. It smelled just like the roses at Imloth Melui. That, more than anything, made it clear that he must follow the voice. And it led him to the owner of the voice, a man so tall and fair, with a bright light shining from his brow, that he momentarily appeared to be one of the Valar.
It was not until later that Faramir knew that the scent that reminded him so much of roses was in fact the scent of athelas leaves. But he was left in no doubt as to the goodness and rightness of the one who had used that scent to summon him.
“My lord, you called me. I come. What does the King command?”