Sillyfic: Fair Game
It's been ages since my last post, but I'm still here. To prove it, I'll try to post some of the odds and ends from my hard drive during the next couple of days.
Let's start with a silly little fic.
Fair game
'I want whoever did this found and punished!' Turgon was livid as he studied the evidence in front of him, pitiful remains of the beauty he had so looked forward to seeing bloom.
His gardener had grown the rare roses in secret in a distant part of the garden which Idril avoided due to its closeness to the manure pile. The roses did not seem to mind their neighbour, in fact they thrived, or at least they had done so for a long time.
This morning, however, the gardener came to the backdoor almost in tears and demanded--so Turgon's major domo claimed--an audience with the king. The reason for his unusual insistence lay here, on Turgon's breakfast table: twenty beheaded rose stems. Not a bud was left on them, each and every one had been carefully nipped of.
There would be no surprise bouquet for Idril on her begetting day this year.
Turgon's anger stemmed mostly from disappointment; over the years, it had become a challenge to find new flowers for this particular bouquet, and his joy at seeing Idril's look of surprise almost matched her joy in receiving the bouquet. Why anyone would deprive him of this innocent pleasure, he could not fathom. It spoke of a cruel mind, which was worrying in itself. He believed himself to be, if not loved by all, then at least respected for his tireless efforts to keep his people safe; to find that matters might stand differently upset him greatly.
'You will set a hidden watch day and night, in case the perpetrator returns,' he ordered and the gardener bowed, wiping discreetly at his eyes.
Turgon brooded for the rest of the day and spent most of the night on his balcony looking up to the stars, hoping, perhaps, for a glimpse of inspiration or at least some peace of mind. He found neither and when the sun rose, his mood stubbornly refused to rise with it. However, when he spotted the gardener approaching at a trot, he rose and quickly donned his official robes before hurrying to the reception room.
'Sire, I got the scoundrel!' the gardener burst out before he had straightened from his bow.
Turgon overlooked this slight deviation from etiquette, eager to learn more about the sinister mind behind the decapitation of his roses.
'Where is he?' he demanded.
'Still lying next to the scene of his crimes,' the gardener replied, 'he dropped on the spot when I shot him!'
Slightly taken aback, as he had not yet decided on the appropriate punishment for the crime and certainly not spoken on the subject, the king asked,
'Shot? Could you not have apprehended him?'
But the gardener shook his head.
'I could never have caught him, and he was fair game after all. We would have had to set constant watch around the gardens to prevent him from raiding it. Besides, I thought you might appreciate a rare course on your table for the young lady's begetting day.'
Noticing the utterly appalled look on Turgon's face, the gardener finally realized that he had skipped the most vital information and hastened to explain,
'Sire, it was a deer that ate the roses!'
Many thanks to Erulisse and Araloth the Random for their helpful suggestions!