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24
Part 1
After the incident of the sweet-toothed hunting dogs and the barefooted
King, Faramir had decided it was in his own best interests to lay low,
as they say and so he had concentrated on dealing with the backlog of
paperwork that seemed to have procreated during his absence. It was
no wonder the King had sorely missed him, Faramir thought as the mountains
of paperwork on his right had been reduced, bit by bit, over the days
as he answered correspondence, organised materials and resources and
dealt with the myriad of administrative tasks that was the lot of any
Steward's existence. The King was obviously a man of action and not
paperwork, Faramir though irreverently.
To Faramir's relief, the reconstruction of the White City was going
well. Gimli's dwarves and Lord Elrond's elves, albeit not without much
squabbling, were assisting the people of Gondor in returning the city
to grander than its former glory. Gondor's Queen had surprised Faramir,
when he arrived back in the city and after waking in his mother's garden
having suffered a heavy chastisement session with Lord Elrond, Mithrandir
and Elessar, by taking the young Steward, Legolas and their elven father
to the his apartments and standing a little nervously at the door before
opening it and revealing the changes that she had wrought within. Faramir
was both astonished and moved. Gone were all the belongings of the old
Steward his father and in their place a mixture of furniture from his
old quarters and new pieces he had never seen before. The rooms of the
Steward's apartment looked nothing like they had when his father had
resided in them. Faramir realised that each room had been decorated
with him in mind and with great affection. His study was now filled
with bookshelves and his favourite books. Arwen must have sought advice
from Gondor's Scholars. Faramir could see that new books he had never
seen before had been added to the collection.
Overwhelmed, the young Steward stood speechless.
"Are you pleased with the changes?" Arwen asked tentatively,
in her beautiful lilting voice, as she was not sure of the nature of
Faramir's emotions.
"Oh, yes my Queen!" Faramir exclaimed quietly after some
moments, tears filling his eyes. "Thank you," he added in
a harsh whisper filled with emotion as he looked at the Queen.
"You are welcome, mellon-nin" Arwen whispered into the young
Steward's ear as she embraced him. Faramir stiffened slightly. "I
have left Boromir's room untouched," Arwen added, this time sensing
Faramir's concern. Faramir relaxed again.
Unseen by Faramir, Thranduil and Legolas both smiled their thanks to
Arwen.
As Faramir dealt with the mountain of administrative tasks and without
realising it, he had slipped into old habits that had got him into trouble
before. Habits such as working excessively long hours, not eating regularly,
and not sleeping. The major cause for this slide into old coping habits
was a letter from Éowyn in which she explained that, due to pressing
matters in Rohan, she would not be able to join him for eighteen months.
The only consolation for Faramir was Éowyn's obvious vexation at not
being able to join him immediately, for his love's sentiments came through
clearly in her writing. To make matters worse, Aragorn had enlisted
the aid of the elves including the four Mirkwood elves, Thranduil, Legolas,
Finrod and Maglor to drive off orcs that were harassing workers trying
to restore Osgiliath. Faramir had wanted to go but had been overruled
by Aragorn who was feeling trapped inside the White City and wanted
to taste freedom, if only for a short while. So while Aragorn played,
Faramir worked.
The King and company had been gone for two weeks and was expected back
within days. Faramir, having just completed the last piece of paperwork,
having worked through most of the night and most of the day, heard the
bells of the tower ringing, heralding the return of the King. The young
Steward stood from his chair quickly and almost lost consciousness as
a wave of vertigo hit him. This is not good, Faramir thought as he held
onto the back of the chair in which he had been sitting for support
and waited for the dizziness to pass. Gingerly, he made his way to his
wash chamber to apply some cold water to his face. After dousing himself
thoroughly with cold water from a jug that he poured into a basin, Faramir
looked up into the mirror that was situated just above the water basin.
This is definitely not good the young Steward thought as he saw the
black rings below his eyes and his pallid complexion. Not having enough
time to truly panic, Faramir made his way to the courtyard just outside
the palace to greet the King, and the elves including his elven father.
The Steward moved down the stairs and into the front courtyard. Arwen
was already standing in the courtyard and watched as Faramir walked
to stand beside her. The Queen of Gondor shook her head at the ill condition
of the young Steward as he bowed to her. Both turned on hearing the
horses reach the courtyard. Faramir could see Legolas and Maglor shaking
their heads, much as Arwen had done and then saw the look of anger on
his elven father's face. Cursing the acuity of elven eyesight, Faramir
tried not to wince at the same time he tried to swallow past his suddenly
dry mouth.
Aragorn dismounted from his horse and handed the reins to the stable
boy who was at hand as did the elves. The King eyed his steward with
growing displeasure and went and greeted his wife with an exuberant
embrace and a heartfelt kiss. Aragorn turned back to his Steward as
Faramir went down on bended knee.
"Greetings my King," Faramir said as he rose slowly in the
hopes that he would not be hit by another wave of vertigo. "I hope
the hunt went well?" Faramir asked, hoping against reasonable hope
that Elessar would be distracted.
Thranduil, Legolas and Maglor joined Elessar. All looked at Faramir
intently. The Elrondion twins and other Rivendell elves stood in the
background obviously interested in the proceedings. Every part of the
Steward's being wanted to turn tail and run but logic dictated that
he could not outrun Ioreth the old healer, given his current level of
energy, let alone the elves and ranger.
Moving over to Faramir Aragorn reached behind his Steward, fisted the
back of the young man's tunic and pulled it taut.
"You have lost weight my Steward. You have not been eating regularly,"
Aragorn said in a dangerously quiet voice. "You have not been sleeping
by the dark circles under your eyes, so I can only assume you have been
working long hours." Aragorn sighed, still fisting the back of
Faramir's tunic. Aragorn turned to Thranduil who was looking livid at
his human son's condition. "I will hand your son over to you, King
Thranduil. I know you will be able to deal with him appropriately,"
Aragorn said as he let go of his Steward's tunic and walked past the
pale young man to take his wife's hand, gracing him with another 'displeased'
glare.
Thranduil stood in front of his human son continuing to examine him
closely. The elven King did not like what he saw. Faramir grew paler
under his elven father's glare.
"You are in much trouble, ion-nin," the elven King growled.
"Follow me Faramir Thranduilion," Thranduil commanded as he
passed his wincing human son.
Sighing in resignation, Faramir turned and followed his elven father.
Shaking his head, Legolas put a comforting arm around his brother's
shoulders as they walked behind their father. Neither spoke. Maglor,
as usual, brought up the rear.
Thranduil walked into his human son's apartments followed by Faramir.
Legolas and Maglor waited outside and Maglor closed the door. Faramir
feeling frightened and ashamed stood with his head bowed, eyes glued
to the floor and his arms wrapped around himself protectively. A combination
of great worry, anger and pity passed across the elven Kings features
as he looked upon his young human son.
Taking a deep breath, Thranduil stood before his son and slowly and
gently gathered the despondent young human into a hug. Faramir flinched
at the contact but Thranduil held his human son until his trembling
ceased and the young human had relaxed somewhat.
"I am sorry, ada," Faramir whispered into his elven father's
tunic. "I am sorry to have disappointed you and King Elessar,"
Faramir whispered with a quiet sob.
Thranduil sighed.
"Our disappointment stems from worry, ion-nin," the elven
King explained as he continued to embrace his human son. "Estel
worries at how you lose weight and withdraw from others every time you
reside in the White City. He wants his Steward to thrive in this city
not withdraw and wither away," Thranduil said as he released his
son and walked over to Faramir's desk, taking one of the chairs in front
of the desk, placed it a few paces away from the desk and sat down.
Berating himself severely for getting into this predicament, Faramir
moved over to his elven father, loosened the ties on his leggings, pushed
them down to his knees and lowered himself over his father's lap.
"What is this punishment for, ion-nin?" Thranduil asked as
he landed the first stinging swat to his human son's buttocks.
"For losing weight!" Faramir yelped at the hard stinging
swats.
"Wrong answer, ion-nin," Thranduil retorted as he landed
swat after stinging swat to Faramir's posterior. "The loss of weight
is not the issue but what you do not do to lose weight, pen-neth."
"For forgetting to eat," Faramir gasped between blistering
swats.
"As you seem to be in the habit of forgetting to eat, we will
have to think of methods to ensure that you remember, ion-nin. Perhaps
a nightly meeting with Faramir's Bane will aid you in remembering, pen-neth,"
the elven King suggested as he moved from his young son's buttocks,
which were turning a deep shade of red, to his thighs.
"That…will…not…be…necessary," Faramir
ground out between swats his temper perversely, on the rise.
"We will see, ion-nin. What else is this chastisement for?"
Thranduil asked as he continued to blister his son's thighs.
"For…working…too…hard," Faramir managed
to gasp out in between blistering slaps. "But given the paperwork
I came back to," Faramir spat out gasping for breath, "and
who was left when you all went off orc-hunting, what else could I do!"
Faramir added in anger and indignation.
"You are an intelligent man, with notable exceptions, ion-nin,"
Thranduil corrected, "you could have found a solution. Now why
did you spend so many hours working," Thranduil demanded.
"I…cannot…sleep," Faramir whimpered as the pain
in his thighs overtook the pain in his posterior.
"Now why can you not sleep, ion-nin?" Thranduil questioned
as he concentrated again on Faramir's buttocks.
"Éowyn will not be joining me for another eighteen months,"
Faramir whined.
Thranduil looked at his son in sympathy even as he continued to blister
the young man's posterior.
"And?" the elven King encouraged.
"Nightmares. You left me alone!" Faramir shouted as he squirmed
and struggled on his father's lap.
"Why it takes so much with you, to get to the crux of the matter…"
Thranduil began as he continued to spank his son's buttocks.
"You did not ask!" Faramir howled in anger.
"Would you have admitted your anger to me if I had?" Thranduil
asked.
"No!" Faramir sobbed out in anger.
Thranduil stopped the chastisement and pulled up his son's leggings
causing Faramir to howl in pain. The elven King gathered his son into
his arms and rocked the sobbing young human.
"Oh tithen-pen! You may not be of my flesh, but you are of my
soul," Thranduil chuckled softly as he continued to rock his human
son.
When it seemed safe to do so, Legolas and Maglor entered the room.
Maglor was holding a goblet. The Seneschal handed over the requisite
sleeping draught, which Thranduil accepted with a smile and held to
his human's son's mouth. Faramir was almost asleep as it was.
"Unsavoury habit, Maglor," Faramir grumbled making all three
elves chuckle.
It did not take long before the Steward was deeply asleep in the safety
of his elven father's arms.
With elven ease, Thranduil carried his human son into the young man's
sleeping chambers. Maglor pulled down the covers as the elven King and
Legolas stripped Faramir and changed him into night attire. Both shook
their heads sadly at the weight Faramir had lost. They turned Faramir
onto his stomach. All three elves turned when they heard someone approaching.
"Mae govannen, Estel," King Thranduil greeted.
"Mae govannen, Thranduil, Legolas, Maglor," Aragorn greeted
each in turn. "How is our young charge?" Aragorn asked quietly
as he made his way over to the bed and sat down on the end.
"Sore and very sorry," Thranduil replied as pulled the covers
up over his human son and then sat down on a chair by the bedside. Legolas
sat beside Faramir on the side opposite his father and Maglor remained
standing. "Éowyn will not be able to join him for another eighteen
months," Thranduil informed them. Aragorn and Legolas both winced
at the news. "He was not happy about being left in the city 'alone'
as he put it. He has been suffering from nightmares and you left him
the perfect excuse to avoid dealing with his unhappiness by leaving
him a mountain of paperwork," Thranduil criticised the King of
Gondor, as he looked directly at Aragorn.
"Oh," Aragorn winced seeing his own culpability in the matter.
Faramir made a small whimpering sound as if in the midst of a nightmare.
"Shhhh, muindor tithen," Legolas soothed in a quiet voice
as he stroked his brother's hair. "You are not alone. Never again,"
Legolas added quietly but wincing as he realised that he had assured
his brother before that he would not be left alone. "I am sorry,
muindor tithen. It will not happen again"
As if having heard his elven brother's assurances, Faramir settled
into a deeper sleep.
"I know you were torn between attending me and leaving this young
one behind mellon-nin," Thranduil said to Maglor. "I suggest
you follow your keen instinct in future, my Seneschal."
Maglor nodded his head in agreement. Legolas winced, for a Maglor given
free rein not always a good thing he remembered from past, vast, experience.
Poor Faramir, Legolas thought as he looked down upon his sleeping brother,
he does not know what he is in for.
Part 2
The exhausted young Steward of Gondor slept for over a day. On the
morning of the second day he roused from his deep slumber, albeit slowly.
First Faramir became aware that he was ensconced, very comfortably,
in his own bed. His ranger sense picked up on sound and movement so
he knew that he was not alone. A small smile came to his face as he
could guess who was there with him.
"Finally he awakens!" Thranduil teased from his seated position
in the chair by the side of Faramir's bed. "I thought you would
sleep this day away as well, ion-nin."
Faramir's smile brightened as he rubbed his eyes in much the same manner
as he had when a child.
"How long have I been asleep, ada?" Faramir asked softly
as he yawned widely, scrubbed at his face and ran his hands through
his curly red-gold locks.
"Almost a day and a half!" the elven King announced.
"Oh c…" the young Steward began to curse as he sat
up suddenly. Before any more words issued forth, a hand clamped over
his mouth muffling any further words. Startled, Faramir looked up and
into the eyes of Maglor. The young Steward blushed profusely at the
amused look on the Seneschal's face.
"None of that pen-neth. We do not wish to start this day with
a wallop now do we," Maglor admonished his young charge mildly.
Faramir's eyes widened as he continued to look at Maglor and then to
Legolas who was sitting on the windowsill to his left. The young Steward's
eyes narrowed as he could see Legolas' shoulders shaking with mirth
even as the elf tried to hide a grin. "I will go see what I can
find for you to eat," Maglor said as he released Faramir's mouth,
turned and walked out of the room.
"Ada has let loose the reins on Maglor, muindor tithen,"
Legolas informed Faramir with a giggle as soon as the Senschal had left.
"You are in for some very interesting times," the elf added
enigmatically.
Thranduil stilled his elven son with a mock glare.
"Ada?" Faramir asked in a tone that sought clarification.
"Maglor will simply be more…attuned…to your needs
ion-nin. That is all," Thranduil reassured his human son.
"Ada!" Faramir exclaimed quietly, seeing through to the core
of the situation with his usual acuteness. "I am a grown man. I
am hardly in need of a nanny!" the young Steward implored in a
harsh whisper.
Thranduil graced his human son with a raised eyebrow and a look of
scepticism. The young Steward had the grace to blush and duck his head
in embarrassment in the realisation that his recent behaviour gave lie
to his assertion that he did not need a nanny. Legolas laughed. Faramir
glared.
After complaining that there was enough food on the tray to feed a
small army, Faramir ate most of the food that Maglor had brought back.
On finishing the meal, the young Steward bathed, dressed and made his
way to the King's study to which he had been summoned. Faramir entered
Elessar's study not knowing what his reception might be.
"Ah, there you are," Aragorn smiled and motioned Faramir
to sit in a chair by the fireplace. The King studied his Steward intently
much to his Steward's discomfort. "You are looking well rested,
my Steward," Aragorn said smiling slightly at his Steward's obvious
embarrassment.
"Well…yes…being drugged tends to have that affect
on one," Faramir replied in annoyance and chagrin.
"A sleeping draught does not put one to sleep for a day and a
half, my Steward. You were exhausted," Aragorn admonished with
a stern glare.
"Yes, sire," Faramir admitted, sighing in quiet defeat.
"What am I to do with you," Aragorn said shaking his head
at his young Steward.
"You could banish me to Rohan," Faramir quipped, only half
in jest.
"I am sorry that Éowyn will be gone from you for so long,"
Elessar said with genuine regret.
"From what I could read between the lines of Éowyn's letter, King
Éomer, although undoubtedly a great warrior, has the diplomatic skills
of an orc - one of the less intelligent and more belligerent ones at
that," Faramir complained, unkindly, in quiet exasperation.
Aragorn laughed well knowing the young King of Rohan's…limitations.
"Shame on you Faramir," Aragorn admonished but with a small
smile that softened his words. "Not a very charitable assessment
of your future brother-in-law."
"No, but true nonetheless, Sire," the young Steward replied.
"On a different subject and the reason you were summoned,"
Aragorn began. "You will be leaving again soon to take your father
to view the elven haven. I need someone to assist with the damn paperwork.
You were sorely missed, my Steward."
"That much was blindingly obvious," Faramir muttered.
"What was that?" Aragorn asked with a stern look at his Steward.
"Nothing, Sire," Faramir replied with the same look of innocence
that sent shudders down the spine of Legolas. It had the same affect
on Aragorn.
"Alright," Aragorn said with a sceptical look. "Who
would you recommend to assist me in your absence.
"Beregond!!" Faramir exclaimed with a smile. Elessar looked
at his steward intently.
"This would not be a form of revenge against the poor man, would
it be?" Aragorn asked as he studied his young Steward, knowing
that Faramir still harboured a grudge about 'Faramir's Bane' and Beregond
was instrumental in bringing the instrument's existence to his attention.
Faramir smirked.
"Beregond really is the best man for the job, Sire," the
young Steward answered honestly.
"But if it is work not to his liking, you would not find it in
your heart to pity him," Aragorn guessed.
"No, I would not" Faramir admitted smirking.
Faramir spent the next two weeks handing over the administrative duties
to Beregond who had, at first, thought the duties a form of punishment.
Faramir assured the poor beleaguered man that even though it appeared
punishment it was actually an honour. The young Steward laughed when
Beregond had looked at him in disbelief.
Maglor spent the two weeks ensuring that his young charge was provided
with meals at regular intervals. On the second night, Maglor arrived
with a tray of food to Faramir's study where he was tutoring the human
Beregond in the duties that he would perform. Some time later, unbeknownst
to either Faramir or Beregond, the elf had returned and was glaring
at the uneaten meal.
"Beregond?" Maglor asked impassively. "Would you leave
us alone, please?"
Startled, Faramir looked up at Maglor. The Steward's eyes darted to
the tray of uneaten food and then back to Maglor. Beregond, sensing
some undercurrent, looked at Faramir who nodded his head in agreement
and then left the Steward and elf with alacrity. Beregond was pretty
sure what was about to happen and although one part of him rejoiced
that the Steward was being cared for, another part wanted to seek out
the deepest darkest hiding place for fear of the Steward's temper.
"I am sorry Maglor, I meant to eat the food. It just slipped my
mind…" Faramir pleaded in his own defence as he rose from
the chair in which he had been sitting. The young Steward's eyes widened
and his face paled when he saw what the Seneschal was holding in his
hand.
Faramir groaned.
"Elflings are very flighty and prone to periods of not eating.
The standard cure for this condition is to spank the elfling lightly
on the first offence and to greater and greater degrees on subsequent
offences. Most elflings, with a few exceptions, learn very quickly,"
Maglor said as he walked slowly towards his young charge. "I wonder,
pen-neth, how long it will take you to learn?" the Seneschal asked
as he stopped in front of the Steward.
Faramir's eyes darted about for an escape route but none was available.
Taking a deep breath the Steward braced himself for what was about to
happen.
"Where do you want me?" Faramir asked in a pained whisper.
"Leggings down and across the desk, pen-neth," Maglor answered
briskly. Faramir sighed again and did as instructed. Leggings down and
draped across the desk, Faramir awaited the punishment. "Twenty
swats with the paddle, pen-neth," Maglor said as he pulled Faramir's
tunic up to his waist.
"Twenty is not a light punishment!" Faramir's exclaimed indignantly
and would have straightened had Maglor not been holding him down.
"You are not an elfling, pen-neth. Now I want you to count each
one so that each is imprinted on your mind as well as your behind,"
Maglor instructed the young human as he landed the first swat.
"One," Faramir yelped at the stinging swat. "Two…
three… four… five" Faramir ground out, his temper rising.
"Six… seven… owww… eight… nine… ten,"
Faramir continued, whimpering with each stinging, biting swat from his
bloody red nemesis. Temper taking control over mouth again, the young
Steward made the mistake of cursing softly in Rohirrim. "OWWWW!!!!!!"
Faramir yelled as Maglor landed an all-powerful swat to his abused rear-end.
"I am also fluent in many languages, pen-neth," Maglor said
as he stopped for a moment.
"Eleven," Faramir spat out trying desperately to regain control
over his mouth.
"That one does not count, tithen-pen," Maglor informed the
Steward, as he resumed the paddling.
"Eleven," Faramir growled. "Twelve… thirteen…
fourteen… fifteen," Faramir managed to say, between sobs
and gasps for breath. "Sixteen… seventeen… eighteen…
nineteen… twenty…owwwww" Faramir howled as Maglor made
the final swat a memorable one. "I am sorry… sorry,"
the young Steward said over and over.
Sobbing, Faramir remained leaning over the desk as Maglor pulled up
his young charge's leggings. The young Steward hissed at the pain this
action caused him but preferred the pain to the embarrassment of having
his leggings down round his ankles. Maglor rubbed Faramir's back gently
in circles. Pulling the human up gently Maglor enveloped Faramir in
a hug and rocked him as the Steward sobbed out his pain. The Seneschal
held Faramir until the young man had regained some calm.
"Are you alright?" Maglor began. "Stupid question,
I know," the Seneschal chuckled at the glare from his young charge.
"Has the message reached you mind as well as your behind, tithen-pen?"
"I am not about to say no am I," came Faramir's surly answer.
"Oh, tithen-pen! It is no wonder that Thranduil is so taken with
you. Two peas in a pod!" Maglor laughed leaving Faramir to wonder.
Part 3
"Now sit and eat," Maglor instructed, but then laughed at
the glare he received from his young charge. "Eat," the Seneschal
corrected.
Maglor watched as the Steward ate the meal - standing - and placed
the remnants of the meal on the tray and carried the tray to the door
passing Legolas as the elf entered the room. Faramir walked from the
desk over to the chair situated near the fireplace that was closest
to him. One look at his human brother's rather stilted movements informed
Legolas loudly of what had transpired recently.
"Oh, muindor tithen!" Legolas exclaimed quietly. "What
have you done now?" the elven Prince asked in exasperation as he
approached his brother.
"I forgot to eat the meal that was provided to me by Maglor, I
was so concentrated on providing Beregond with the information that
he will need to assist King Elessar whilst I am away, Faramir replied
still berating himself silently for his stupidity. "Egad! But that
elf packs a wallop!" the Steward exclaimed, wincing as he could
feel his arse throb painfully in time with his heartbeat.
Legolas winced as he sat down in the chair opposite the one on which
Faramir was leaning.
"Yes…well… I do admit that Maglor is very strict in
matters pertaining to eating. He and everyone you know are of the opinion
that you are too thin," Legolas chided his brother.
Faramir stared at his elven brother in disbelief.
"The bit about Maglor being very strict in matters pertaining
to eating, would have indeed been very useful intelligence up until
about an hour ago, brother," the Steward admonished as he frowned
at Legolas.
"Sorry," the elf apologised having the grace to look chagrined.
"Maglor mentioned something about elflings being flighty and prone
to periods of not eating," the pained young Steward remembered.
Faramir's eyes narrowed and a smirk grew as he caught the scent of a
good and hopefully very embarrassing story behind the Seneschal's words.
"He also mentioned how most elflings learn quickly but not all…"
Faramir's voice trailed off as he studied his elven brother intently.
Legolas cringed under the intense stare and blushing to the tips of
his elven ears, lowered his eyes to the floor.
"Given that a little judicious forewarning from you may have spared
me the inability to sit down this from this night to the next…and
probably the day after," Faramir added feeling another flare of
pain from his tender hindquarters. "I think you owe me what I am
sure is a very amusing story."
Legolas remained silent.
"I could always go to ada," Faramir said giving his brother
the wide-eyed innocent look that sent shudders down the elf's spine
but Legolas knew would ignite their father's sense of mischief.
"And ada would delight in telling you," Legolas sighed in
defeat.
"Upon my honour as the Steward of Gondor and not as your brother,
for there I admit I have less honour and would delight in relaying the
story to Gimli, amongst others, I promise not to tell another soul,"
Faramir swore.
"Alright, I will tell you but this is tantamount to blackmail,"
Legolas admonished his smiling brother.
"Blackmail was a tactic that proved very effective against Boromir
also," Faramir responded.
Sighing, Legolas settled back into the chair in which he was seated
and began.
"It all started in Rivendell…"
"So we are in agreement?" Lord Elrond asked as he walked
beside King Thranduil down the long corridor that led eventually to
the dining hall, where they both would partake of a noonday meal.
"Yes, the trade terms are acceptable, mellon-nin," Thranduil
replied.
A slight movement in the rafters above caught Elrond's eye. Looking
up, the elven Lord detected a small blond-haired elfling sitting on
the top of a wooden beam where two of the beams intersected, with his
knees drawn up to his chest. Thranduil looked up to see what had drawn
his friend's attention. Both elves stopped just below where the elfling
was huddled.
"Leg-o-las. What are you doing up there, my elfling?" the
elven King asked gently, as he could see his young son was distressed.
"Will you come down, tithen-pen?" Thranduil coaxed softly.
Within a split moment, Legolas jumped from the very high rafter and
straight into his father's arms. Wood-elves! Elrond thought as his heart
leapt into his mouth.
"Oomph!" Thranduil grunted as his arms were suddenly filled
with distressed elfling. Legolas wrapped his little legs around his
father's waist and wrapped equally small arms around his father's neck,
burying his face in his father's shoulder. "You are getting a little
too big for that manoeuvre, my elfling," Thranduil whispered into
his son's overly large elfling ear. "Whatever is the matter with
you ion-nin?" the King asked as he pulled his son's arms from around
his neck so that he could better look at the elfling's face. Two large
tear-filled blue eyes could be seen peaking out from the mass of blond-hair
that had fallen over the elfling's face. "What is it?" Thranduil
asked as he brushed the hair back from Legolas' face.
"Maglor sp-spanked me," the young elfling replied in a very
quiet and trembling voice.
"What did he spank you for, my elfling?" Thranduil questioned
gently.
"Nothing," Legolas replied.
"Nothing? Are you sure it was for nothing?" the elven King
questioned as he looked at his son.
Legolas nodded; mouth turned down, lips trembling and eyes still filled
with unshed tears. Under his father's gentle but unwavering look, Legolas'
nodding turned, reluctantly, into shaking.
"Why were you spanked, my elfling? Thranduil asked his son, trying
to hold back a smile that was threatening to break out across his face.
"I was not hungry," Legolas muttered as he put his arms back
around his father's neck, burying his face and runny nose, in his father's
over tunic. Thranduil and Lord Elrond exchanged knowing looks as the
elven King crooned softly to his elfling as he hugged him. A universal
constant in the world of elves was the battle to get elflings to eat.
Thankfully, it was usually a very short-lived phase that all elflings
went through.
Thranduil and Elrond walked into the dining hall and sat down at the
main table. Maglor was seated at another table. Unbeknownst to Legolas,
the elven King signalled Maglor asking the Seneschal if his elfling
had eaten. Maglor signalled back - yes. After the meal, which Thranduil
ate still holding his sleepy elfling, the King retired to their quarters
and put his son down for a nap.
No problems were encountered in getting Legolas to eat the evening
meal but the morning meal the next day was a different matter.
Elrond and Thranduil had gone out to inspect goods that had been brought
back by elves who had just returned from a trading expedition to a few
human villages known for exceptional quality goods. Legolas, as usual,
was left in the care of Maglor.
Maglor knew there would be trouble when his young charge declared adamantly,
in what the Seneschal had to admit was a very good imitation of Thranduil
in a snit, that he was not hungry. Taking a deep breath, Maglor picked
up the young Prince and carried him into the dinning hall. No sooner
had he placed Legolas in a chair at the main table, when the wood elfling
was out of the chair and off and running. As a very experienced warrior,
it did not take Maglor long to catch the recalcitrant young one. Taking
another deep breath he carried the wriggling elfling back to the dining
hall and sat him down on the same chair but this time maintained a firm
hold on Legolas.
In the interim Glorfindel, the Seneschal to Lord Elrond, had sat down
at the main table, opposite to where Maglor was just taking a seat as
he still held on to his young charge. Glorfindel was grinning from ear-to-ear
as he remembered his own battles with the "duo horribus" also
known as the Elrondion twins.
Maglor's hold on the elfling loosened for a moment when the Seneschal
reached into the centre of the table to pull a tray of fruits closer
to him. Legolas wriggled out of the hold, scampered under the table
and came out at an opening beside Glorfindel. The Rivendell elf grabbed
a fist full of the elfling's tunic and held the struggling elfling off
the floor. Thwarted yet again, Legolas launched into a very impressive
temper tantrum, kicking and hitting. Glorfindel simply held the elfling
far enough away so that no target, in the way of sensitive body parts,
presented itself.
"There is no way that Thranduil could own that this one did not
belong to him," Glorfindel said in a conversational tone as he
continued to hold the red-faced, struggling elfling off the floor by
the back of his tunic.
"That is very true," Maglor replied in a similar conversational
tone as he walked around the long table and wrapped his arms firmly
around the kicking, hitting elfling, pinning Legolas' arms to his side.
"There is a room back there," Glorfindel said as he pointed
to a doorway at the back of the hall, "I think you will find will
meet your needs."
"Thank you, mellon-nin," Maglor said as he carried the still
struggling elfling through the doorway and into the back room.
The room was small and contained a chair and two small elfling-sized
beds. Sitting down on the chair, Maglor placed the struggling elfling
facedown over his lap and waited until Legolas' blind rage abated enough
for the elfling to realise the trouble he was in. It took a surprisingly
long time but the young elfling finally stopped struggling.
Maglor pulled down his young charge's leggings. Legolas whimpered as
realisation struck.
"What is this spanking for tithen-pen?" Maglor asked wanting
to assure himself that the elfling was indeed rational again, or as
rational as an elfling ever got.
"For not eating," the young elfling whimpered.
"And?"
"For getting angry," Legolas answered in a trembling, tiny
voice.
"Not for getting angry but for hitting and kicking, tithen-pen,"
Maglor corrected.
Maglor proceeded to spank the young elfling, a little harder than the
spanking the day before. It did not take long for the cheeks of Legolas'
buttocks to turn a rosy pink. Legolas sobbed saying he was sorry. After
a few more spanks, Maglor stopped, pulled up his young charge's leggings,
turned him over and gave him a comforting hug. Legolas' tiny arms went
around Maglor's neck as the young elfling cried out his pain.
"I do love you, tithen-pen. You do know that do you not?"
the Seceschal asked.
"Yes," Legolas answered.
It was not long before the exhausted young elfling fell asleep in the
Seneschal's arms. Maglor pulled back the covers on one of the tiny beds,
laid his elfling down, pulling the bed covers up and tucking them around
Legolas. Taking a seat in the chair Maglor watched over his elfling
as he slept, looking once again like an innocent.
Maglor chuckled.
Faramir laughed as Legolas finished the story. He could imagine Legolas
as a very cute little elfling causing havoc for Maglor and their father.
Faramir's thoughts turned sombre as he thought of his relationship with
Denethor. The Steward thanked the Valar for Boromir, the one constant
in his life that made his childhood - bearable. Faramir realised how
lucky he was to have found Legolas and Thranduil.
"I do not believe that is the end of the tale, brother,"
Faramir teased.
"No but it is enough for this night, muindor tithen," Legolas
replied.
"Before we retire for the night, are there any other pieces of
intelligence concerning Maglor of which it would be in my own best interests
to be aware? Hmmmm?" Faramir asked.
It was some time before either brother saw their bed that evening.
Part 4
Faramir, as he had predicted the previous evening, was still unable
to sit comfortably the next morning. The pained young Steward made his
way to the King's dinning hall for the morning meal. Upon arrival Faramir
blushed, as it was obvious that most if not all who were already gathered
knew of his 'sit-uation'. The young Steward groaned at his mind's ability
to make jest even when the 'butt' of the jest was himself. Faramir groaned
again trying to think of other things thus depriving his already fertile
mind of further fodder. Despite the twin mischievous expressions of
his elven father and brother, Faramir was grateful for the pillow that
graced the empty chair between them.
After the meal all guests left with the exception of Aragorn, Legolas,
the Elrondion twins and Faramir. The King had the morning free and wanted
to share it with his 'brothers', although the twins in their boredom
had been driving him mad of late. The five retired to a small private
room that had several chairs and a lounge on which Faramir could stretch
out. Aragorn and the Elrondion twins smirked as the Steward did just
that.
"Maglor has lost none of his strength I see, mellon-nin,"
Elladan commiserated. Faramir blushed fiercely.
"He rivals Gandalf, if I remember correctly," Elrohir added
smiling at the young human.
"What say you Estel? You have felt the hand of both more recently
than us, what say you?" Elladan teased.
Faramir's eyes widened in astonishment, Legolas laughed and Aragorn
blushed to the tips of his ears as he glared at Elladan. Faramir's eyes
turned mischievous as he looked at his King intently. Aragorn winced.
"You had better tell him the story, mellon-nin or he will just
ask ada or Gandalf," Legolas advised upon seeing the devious look
in his brother's eyes. Faramir's expression turned instantly into one
of wide-eyed innocence. "Stop that!" Legolas chided, shuddering.
"This is blackmail, you do realise do you not?" Aragorn admonished
as he looked sternly at Faramir, shuddering at his Steward's expression
of innocence.
"Yes he does. Effective is it not?" Legolas replied as he
glared at his brother.
Aragorn sighed conceding defeat.
"It was many years ago on a visit to Mirkwood with Gandalf…"
Aragorn began.
"Estel, there are more recent examples than that," Elladan
chided.
"Not with both Maglor and Gandalf there are not," the King
retorted.
Elven and human eyes widened and eyebrows went skyward.
"As I was saying. It was many years ago on a visit to Mirkwood
in the company of Gandalf…"
Sixteen year old Estel was on his first trip away from Imladris in
the company of someone other than his father or brothers. Gandalf thought
it would be good for the boy to venture into the wider world and meet
elves other than the Noldor. Elrond agreed reluctantly for he would
have preferred to keep his fledgling cosseted for a few more years.
The Lord of Rivendell kissed his human son goodbye, with strict instructions
to heed Gandalf at all times.
Gandalf and Estel made their way by small wagon through the misty mountains.
On the other side of the mountains they took the Old Forest Road. On
the fifth day, Gandalf and Aragorn made camp in a small clearing not
far off the main road. The young human had been under strict instructions
not to wander far from camp. In typical adolescent fashion and because
the instructions had not been reinforced on a daily if not hourly basis,
Estel had wandered quite a distance away from the camp his attention
drawn by slight movement and sound that always seemed to be ahead of
him.
A sound above caught Aragorn's attention. Looking up he saw a sight
that would give him nightmares for some time to come, for there above
him was the biggest spider he had ever seen in his young life coming
down on a thread straight for him. The young human drew his elven sword
as he shouted.
"Gandalf!!!!"
Estel fought the spider stabbing, slashing and dancing around the arachnid,
looking always for a chance to escape. Just when he thought he was in
deep, deep trouble a brilliant light followed by Gandalf scared the
spider away.
"Are you alright, child? Did the spider bite you? Are you hurt?"
Gandalf fired off questions, as he looked his young charge over frantically.
"Yes, no and no," Estel panted as he tried to regain his
breath after the fight and the fright.
"Good!" the wizard growled as he grabbed the young human
by an ear and dragged him back to the camp.
"Owwww! Gandalf!" Aragorn whined as the wizard continued
to drag him by the ear.
Gandalf spied a fallen log near the fire that he had started earlier
and pulled the squirming child over to it and sat down, letting go of
Estel's ear as he did so.
Rubbing at his ear furiously to temper the sting, Aragorn gulped when
he saw the look of anger on Gandalf's face. The young human knew he
was in for it.
"Leggings down and over my knee. Now!" the wizard instructed,
still furious from the fright of seeing the child almost bitten by a
spider.
Aragorn did as instructed and lay over Gandalf's lap. Gandalf laid
ten very hard stinging slaps with such speed that Aragorn could barely
get a breath in before the next slap.
"What is this punishment for, child?" the wizard asked finally.
"For wandering away from camp…owwww! …and… n-not
heeding… your… instructions… owwww!," Estel managed
to say between sobs and gasps
The angry wizard continued to land blistering whack after blistering
wack but careful not to inflict damage on the young one. Aragorn's began
to sob in earnest.
"I a-am sorry… Gandalf. I am sorry!" Estel kept repeating.
"Think of your father child. Think of how he would have felt if
you had been killed and how I would have had to be the one to tell him!"
Gandalf exclaimed as he moved from Aragorn's posterior to his thighs.
Estel broke down into truly repentant sobbing. After a few more blistering
whacks, Gandalf stopped the punishment and pulled up the child's leggings.
With a strength that surprised most who witnessed it, Gandalf turned
the young human over and gathered the sobbing, repentant young one and
soothed him.
For the whole of the next day, Estel rode in the back of his wagon
lying on his stomach, keeping his much abused posterior away from hard
surfaces. Two days later they reached a little used elven path and turning
north travelled towards the Halls of Mirkwood. It was not long after
turning off the Old Forest Road that Gandalf and Estel encountered Mirkwood
elves. One lone elf was blocking the path but Aragorn could see more
elves in the trees about.
"Mae govannen, Mithrandir," a tall blond elven warrior greeted
Gandalf though his eyes did not waver from the young human sitting beside
the wizard.
"Well met, Maglor," Gandalf greeted in return. "This
is Estel Elrondion," the wizard introduced his young travelling
companion. "Estel this is Maglor, Seneschal to King Thranduil."
Maglor's eyebrow went up.
"Mae govannen, Estel," Maglor greeted the young human formally.
"Mae govannen, Maglor," Aragorn greeted the elf in return.
In the company of the elves, it took Gandalf another day and a half
to reach the Halls of Mirkwood. The wizard could not help chuckling
at Estel's wide eyes as the young human tried to take in the grandeur
of the huge caverns dug out of the mountain that made up the Halls of
Mirkwood. Estel's eyes darted about trying to see everything at once.
Gandalf and Estel stopped before the elven King who was sitting on
his throne. Gandalf whacked the young human on his chest with the back
of his hand, to bring the boy's attention away from the scenery and
to the King who was sitting in front of them with a mischievous look
in his eye. Aragorn started and then blushed when he realised that he
had ignored the elven King.
"Mae govannen, Mithrandir," Thranduil greeted the wizard.
"Mae govannen, Estel Elrondion," the elven King said, as he
looked Estel up and down. "You have sprouted like a bean. The last
time I saw you, tithen-pen, you were still in soiling cloths,"
Thranduil teased.
It had the desired effect as Aragorn blushed in embarrassment, adolescent
pride bruised.
"Is Legolas here?" Estel asked after his friend.
"I am sorry Estel. Legolas is on patrol down near Dol Guldur and
is not expected back for some weeks," Thranduil replied noting
the look of disappointment on the young human's face that spoke of the
human's genuine friendship with his son.
Wizard and human were invited to sup with the elven King after which
Estel was allowed to tour the Halls. Estel went into the great hall.
Looking up he saw that young elves were playing in the rafters.
"I would not climb up there tithen-pen," came a voice from
behind the young human. Startled, Estel jumped and turned around to
see Maglor. "I would hate to see you hurt," the Seneschal
added as he continued on his way into another room.
Aragorn continued to watch the young wood elves enjoying themselves
by jumping from one rafter to the next and swinging on bits of rope.
He looked around to see if Maglor was about. When he could not see Maglor
the son of Elrond decided to climb up a vertical support and into the
rafters. Although not as graceful as the elves, Aragorn still managed
the climb. After an initial hesitation the wood elves welcomed the human
into their game. Aragorn was having such fun until he saw Gandalf below,
obviously searching for him. As his attention was diverted, Estel did
not see the elf swinging towards him until it was too late. The elf
saw the human overbalance but could not save him. Aragorn fell from
the rafter but had the presence of mind to grab onto a hanging curtain.
The curtain ripped as the human descended but did manage to slow the
descent. Unfortunately for the hapless son of Elrond, he landed on Gandalf
sending the wizard sprawling onto the floor. The curtain that Aragorn
held broke free of its moorings and floated down gently covering both
sprawled wizard and human.
The great hall went silent as all watched the scene unfolding before
them. All that could be heard was Mithrandir's cursing as he tried to
free himself from the clinging curtain with the help of a panicked human
boy.
"Estel Elrondion," Gandalf bellowed at the stunned human
cringing before him.
"I will take care of this Mithrandir," Maglor said on seeing
the wizard's anger. "Follow me tithen-pen," Maglor said before
the wizard could lodge any objection he may have had.
Gulping, Aragorn followed the warrior elf. After a short walk, Estel
found himself in a small room that contained a desk, couch and a few
chairs around a fireplace. Maglor sat down on the couch.
"You understand why you are about to be punished, tithen-pen?"
Maglor asked the young human.
"Yes sir," Aragorn answered with a sigh.
"I suspect you know the drill, pen-neth," Maglor said as
he patted his knee.
Aragorn sighed yet again as he loosened the ties on his leggings pushed
them down and lowered himself over the Seneschal's lap.
Maglor wasted no more time than Gandalf, Aragorn thought in annoyance.
The Seneschal proceeded to blister the young human's buttocks. It was
not long before Estel was whimpering and gasping for breaths. He did
not think anyone could hit harder than Gandalf but Maglor certainly
could. Whimpers soon turned to sobs as the Seneschal continued to land
blistering whacks to the human's exposed posterior.
"I am s-sorry," Aragorn repeated over and over.
Maglor moved to the young human's thighs landing a few more very hard
whacks and then finished the punishment. When Aragorn realised the punishment
had concluded he slid from the Seneschal's lap onto the floor, pulling
up his leggings as he did so. Maglor gathered the young human into his
arms and soothed the boy as he sobbed out his pain and embarrassment.
"Now I understand why you and Legolas are such good friends,"
Maglor said eliciting a small smile from the young human. "I pity
your father having to cope with you and the 'duo horribus'," the
Seneschal chuckled.
Legolas, Faramir and the twins were laughing like loons at the visual
image of the King of Gondor, descending down on a tearing curtain to
land on the wizard.
"So I can say with some authority that Maglor hits harder than
Gandalf," Aragorn concluded.
Part 5
Maglor continued to ensure that Faramir was provided with meals at
regular intervals. The Steward, having been dealt a rather painful lesson
by the elf, remembered to eat each and every meal. At the end of two
weeks Faramir felt that Beregond knew enough to assist the King adequately
during the Steward's absences. Conversely, Beregond did not think he
would be able to meet the demands of the King and harboured the secret
belief that he was, contrary to assurances by the Steward, being punished
for bringing the existence of 'Faramir's Bane' to the attention of the
King.
"It is not a punishment my friend," Faramir smiled at Beregond's
dark expression as they both sat in chairs in the Steward's study situated
in front of the fireplace in the early morning sunshine, shining through
the windows that looked out upon the private garden. "You will
do fine. And no, I am not reading your mind," the Steward assured
the man upon seeing Beregond's shock followed by the narrowing of his
eyes. "Have you never wondered, my friend, why you always lose
at card games? Every thought that enters your mind, in the space of
but a moment, registers clearly in your features. And yes, you are as
open to the King as well which is why he trusts you so," Faramir
added upon seeing the horrified realisation in Beregond's wide-eyed
look of fright.
"You are truly beginning to scare me, my Lord," Beregond
said as he looked at the Steward as if Faramir had suddenly grown an
extra head. He had always known that Lord Faramir was uncommonly canny
and could see to the very heart of man or beast but this was truly frightening,
he thought. "Please stop. I am finding it difficult enough to cope
as it is without you terrifying me," Beregond whined.
Faramir's attention was diverted momentarily by a knock at the door.
"Come," Faramir called out. Thranduil entered his human son's
apartment. By the twinkle of humour in his elven father's eyes, Faramir
concluded that the King's keen hearing had detected most, if not all
of his conversation with Beregond.
"You may go Beregond," Faramir released the flustered man.
Beregond rose, bowed to Faramir then to King Thranduil and left the
Steward's presence with a little more speed than was dignified or strictly
polite. After the door closed behind Beregond, Faramir broke out into
a fit of the giggles.
"That was not nice, ion-nin," Thranduil admonished as he
looked at his son intently noticing with approval that Faramir looked
less haggard, had more colour in his cheeks and had gained a little
weight, though less than he would have liked given the amount of food
Maglor was feeding his young charge.
"I know, ada. I love the man dearly but I cannot seem to stop
myself from tormenting him," Faramir smiled as he looked up at
his father. The elven King shook his head in mock disapproval but then
smiled down upon his human son.
"Lord Elrond has asked that Legolas, you and I join him for the
evening meal tonight at the seventh bell, if that is alright with you
ion-nin?" Thranduil asked.
Taken aback that Lord Elrond would ask for him specifically, it took
Faramir a moment to respond in the affirmative. The elven King left
his young son to conclude the work necessary before their departure
for the forests of Ithilien.
Sitting at his desk, Faramir thought back on the conversation he had
had with Legolas about Maglor some nights ago. The young Steward was
actually looking forward to pitting his wits and ranger skills against
those of the elven warrior. Legolas, on seeing the mischievous intent
on his human brother's face, had cautioned the young man against whatever
it was that he was planning and that no, he did not want to know what
'it' was as he did not want to be considered an accessory before, during,
after or anywhere within the vicinity of the fact. Faramir smirked wiggling
his eyebrows. Legolas groaned, shaking his head.
It was near noon and Faramir had finished all the work that was outstanding.
Grabbing his cloak the young Steward made his way to the door and on
opening it, leaned out into the corridor to check if anyone was coming.
Seeing that the hallway was clear in both directions, Faramir sprinted
to the end of the corridor and ducked into a small alcove near the door
that led out into the garden and waited. It was not long when Maglor
carrying a tray filled with food, walked to the door of the room Faramir
had just vacated. Balancing the tray on one hand the Seneschal opened
the door and disappeared into the room. A few moments later Maglor came
back out of the room looking around as if searching for something or
someone. Faramir made his move disappearing out into the garden, knowing
that Maglor would have caught his movement. Moving with surprising speed,
Faramir made his way down through the city to the commercial district
on the second level and disappeared into the tavern where Legolas had
created mayhem with but one arrow and a wasp's nest.
Maglor followed his young charge amazed at how quickly and fluidly
the young human could move. The Seneschal followed Faramir down into
the city wondering where the young one was headed. The young human disappeared
into a tavern. Annoyance growing by the moment, Maglor waited in a position
where he could see both entrances to the tavern and waited. When the
young Steward did not reappear after some time, Maglor decided to enter
the tavern and round up his wayward charge to march him back to the
Steward's apartments. Faramir, however, was nowhere to be found in the
tavern.
"Is there another way out of this inn except for these two entrances?"
Maglor asked the innkeeper who was serving drinks behind the bar.
"Only through the cellar master elf," the innkeeper replied.
Feeling annoyance, chagrin and a new respect for his young charge,
Maglor made his way back to the palace where he came upon Thranduil,
Legolas and Aragorn coming out of a meeting room.
"What ails you, mellon-nin?" Thranduil asked on seeing his
Seneschal's dark expression.
"Faramir Thranduilion!" Maglor growled.
"What has he done now? Where is he?" the elven King asked
wondering what his human son had done to so annoy Maglor. "Oh ho!
He has managed to slip his leash," Thranduil laughed in astonishment
as realisation struck.
"Yes," Maglor admitted looking annoyed. Legolas and Aragorn
both looked at the Seneschal in disbelief.
All four walked to the Steward's apartment and on entering froze, for
sitting at his desk finishing the meal placed there by Maglor was the
young Steward of Gondor. Faramir looked up and graced the King and elves
with such a look of innocent intent that Legolas and Aragorn shuddered
and Thranduil roared with laughter. Eyes narrowing, the Mirkwood Seneschal
dipped his head slightly to his young charge conceding this first round
to the Steward of Gondor. Let the games begin he thought.
Just before the seventh bell, Faramir, Thranduil and Legolas walked
to the rooms set aside for use by the Lord of Rivendell. Elrond greeted
them on arrival and directed the trio to a small dinning room two doors
away and invited them to sit at a small table that had been set for
the evening meal.
The meal turned out to be a pleasant interlude with wine and conversation
free flowing and enjoyable. Although much more serious than the elven
King, Faramir discovered that the Lord of Rivendell did indeed have
a sense of humour and delighted in the stories Lord Elrond related about
his and Thranduil's younger days. At the conclusion of the meal, Thranduil,
as was his nature, came to the heart of the matter in the most direct
manner possible.
"Alright mellon-nin. You have plied us with Estel's best food,
your best wine and have entertained us exceedingly well. What do you
want, mellon-nin?" Thranduil asked as he stared at his friend unwaveringly
with the raised eyebrow that Faramir was certain must be taught to every
elf at a very young age.
To the young Steward's astonishment Lord Elrond blushed, looking decidedly
uncomfortable.
"Well…yes," Elrond coughed. "I do have a favour
to ask."
Realisation dawned on King Thranduil.
"This has to do with the 'duo horribus', does it not?" Thranduil
asked in a flash of insight.
Faramir frowned confused, remembering vaguely that King Elessar had
used the term when telling the story of Maglor's strength versus Mithrandir's.
"Elladan and Elrohir," Legolas leaned over to his right and
whispered in his brother's ear. Faramir's eyes widened in alarm that
his father would call the Elrondion twins that to Lord Elrond's face.
"They are driving you or Estel, or you *and* Estel to distraction
and you wish to get them from underfoot by sending them with us when
we visit the site of the elven haven," Thranduil deduced, continuing
to look at his friend intently.
"More the latter than the former, I do admit, mellon-nin,"
Elrond replied in embarrassment. "If Estel does not cause their
hasty demise then much to my own shame, I will."
Thranduil laughed, Legolas smirked and Faramir sat looking stunned.
"You do understand what you are asking of me, do you not, mellon-nin?
Elladan, Elrohir, Legolas and Faramir all travelling in the same party
at the same time? The 'trio horribus'," Thranduil stressed, including
Legolas in the definition much to the embarrassment of his son who blushing
averted his eyes downward, "Maglor and I can control…mostly.
But add this young one to that already unpredictable mix," Thranduil
said indicating Faramir, "and it could very well be the end of
the fourth age before it has had a chance to truly get started!"
Shocked at the statement and his pride offended, Faramir was about
to snap out a tart rejoinder when his father pinned him with a look
that promised retribution if he were so much as to squeak. Faramir,
teeth making an audible sound as his jaw snapped shut, heeded the warning
and remained silent.
"Yes, mellon-nin. I am fully cognisant of what I am asking but
I find myself at wit's end," Elrond answered in exasperation.
A few moments of silence ensued whilst Thranduil considered the rather
unpalatable proposition.
"I will allow the twins to travel with us out of deference to
our friendship, mellon-nin," Thranduil sighed. "But do not
be surprised if one morning you find a crate at your doorstep in which
they have been packaged and returned to you and Estel," the elven
King stated.
Elrond sighed in relief.
"Hannon le, mellon-nin (I thank you, my friend)," Elrond
smiled at his friend of many centuries.
"You will owe me, mellon-nin" Thranduil warned pointing a
finger at his long time friend.
"Inordinately!" Elrond replied wryly knowing that he was
indeed indebted to his friend.
Preparations were completed and the company of elves and one human
were gathered in the early morning hours in the courtyard before the
palace to say farewell to their friends. Faramir was standing with Legolas
and Thranduil before the King of Gondor. Maglor and Finrod were standing
in the background with the horses. The twins were bidding goodbye to
their father and sister.
"Hannon le, mellon-nin," Estel thanked Thranduil for removing
the twin thorns from his side, if only temporarily, as he looked over
to where the twins were standing. Legolas chuckled. "You my Steward,
take care," Estel said as he embraced Faramir. "One word of
warning," the King added as he pushed Faramir to arms length to
look his Steward in the eye. "If you place yourself in danger needlessly
you will, in addition to your father and whoever else, answer to me.
Do I make myself clear?"
"As crystal," Faramir muttered mutinously.
"Remember little one, I have a paddle with your name on it! Take
care," Aragorn whispered as he embraced his Steward again and shared
a meaningful look with Thranduil over Faramir's shoulder.
Part 6
After farewells were completed the elves and human mounted their horses
and made their way down through the levels of the city and out through
the city gates. Just beyond the gates they collected about twenty horses
loaded with missives and supplies bound for Osgiliath. King Thranduil
had agreed to take the supplies to Osgiliath before crossing the Anduin
and turning northwards to Northern Ithilien. Laden down as they were
with supplies, it took the travellers almost until nightfall to reach
Osgiliath.
Several Ithilien rangers stationed at Osgiliath spied their former
captain as Faramir rode into the temporary tent city set aside for soldiers
protecting the human and elven workers tasked with rebuilding the city
and came running towards their captain shouting greetings. The young
Steward dismounted and greeted each man by name, deeply touched by their
enthusiastic welcome. Encouraged by Thranduil, Faramir shared the evening
meal with his rangers in their camp as the elves made their way to tents
near the river set aside for their use. Wine flowed and stories were
exchanged as the rangers remembered fallen comrades of which there were
many…far too many Faramir thought as his memory wandered back
to the hopeless battle to retake Osgiliath just before he was struck
down by a Southron dart. The young Steward could not bring himself to
eat the bowl of food he was given for he felt responsible for the deaths
of the men who rode with him on that doomed campaign, making his stomach
queasy. Instead he simply moved the food around until finally putting
the bowl aside. In an attempt to lessen the pain of remembrance, Faramir
drank more wine than he had intended. Later that evening an inebriated
and sombre young human made his way to where the elves had camped.
Thranduil, Maglor, Finrod, Legolas and the twins were gathered around
a fire that had been set alight in a small clearing near the tents in
which they would spend the night. From their seated positions, Thranduil
and Legolas' keen elven sight detected the approach and condition of
Faramir. Elven father and son shared a look of concern as both could
see the young Steward's pain clearly written upon the young human's
face. Springing to his feet with elven grace the Mirkwood King made
his way to his human son quickly. Faramir stopped, seeing his father's
approach and swayed slightly with his arms wrapped around himself protectively.
It almost broke Thranduil's heart to see his son's defensive and dejected
posture. Moving slowly, the elven King wrapped his arms around his son
gently and pulled the young human into a much-needed hug.
Faramir's breath hitched but tears did not come; too great and too
deep were the wounds to his gentle and battered heart. After several
long moments Thranduil released his son and assisted him back to the
camp and into the tent that they would be sharing. Maglor was already
there having prepared the camp-bed for his young charge. Both elves
stripped the young human down to his leggings and under tunic, removing
his boots and placing them at the end of the bed and assisted the young
man to lie down, covering him with blankets. Faramir was asleep within
moments.
Thranduil was brought back from his reverie abruptly by a familiar
elven whistling call. Looking over to where his human son was sleeping
the elven King was alarmed to find that Faramir was not abed. Moving
quickly the elf vacated the tent and saw that the Elrondion twins were
also looking in the direction from whence the elven call had come. In
the distance, down by the river, Thranduil could see Maglor and Legolas
standing near Faramir who was kneeling by the waters edge. Instructing
the twins to stay put, Thranduil made his way quickly to where his human
son was kneeling.
"He still sleeps," Maglor informed the King quietly as Thranduil
approached. The elven King noted Maglor and Legolas' expressions of
concern and distress as they looked down upon the young Steward. Faramir
was scrubbing furiously at his forearms and hands muttering to himself.
"What is the matter young Lord?" Thranduil asked quietly
as he knelt down beside his son.
"I cannot get the stain out," Faramir replied in a harsh
whisper as he looked down at his hands in horror and misery.
"What stain, my Lord?" Thranduil asked softly.
"Blood…the blood of so many. It will not come out,"
Faramir sobbed out quietly as he put his hands back into the water and
continued the harsh scrubbing.
The elven King deduced that his son was lost in the memory of the insane
attempt to regain Osgiliath on orders from Denethor.
"They were soldiers and you were following the orders of Lord
Denethor, my Lord," Thranduil reasoned, tears welling in his eyes
at the pain and despair he could feel coming from his son and at the
blood that was beginning to flow from his son's forearms and hands caused
by the harsh scrubbing.
"So many dead… so many… I should have been stronger…
I should have died with them as Denethor wanted… the orcs hacked
them to pieces… the blood… the stench… so foul…
the sounds of battle… of dying… Mablung… Damrod…
Anborn… all dead… it should have been me… why did
I live?" Faramir lamented, rocking back and forth as he continued
scrubbing at his hands.
"It was not your time, young Lord," the elven King argued
softly so as not to cause harm by waking his son from his walking dream.
"They came in boats…" Faramir said as he stopped scrubbing
and looked into the distance across the river, seeing again the wave
upon wave of orcs, Southrons and Harads that poured across from the
other side. "We fought… but still they came. I was tired…
so tired… allowed no rest… I tried… but still they
came…why did I live? It will not come out!" Faramir wailed
as he looked down at his hands and began scrubbing again.
"The King of Gondor is in need of you. You cannot abandon your
King. Estel needs his Steward," Thranduil said his voice hoarse
with emotion as he looked from his human son to his elven son who had
tears streaming down his face as he watched his brother's anguish and
could do naught but stand mute.
The young Steward of Gondor broke into harsh sobbing as he continued
to look at his bloodied hands in despair. Thranduil put an arm around
his son's shoulders as the young man continued to sob. Turning slightly,
Faramir threw his arms around the elven King's neck and sobbed.
"Ada," Faramir called to his father as he awoke and then
fainted.
Thranduil rose to his feet with his human son cradled gently in his
arms and walked back to the camp in silence with Legolas and Maglor.
The elven King and Seneschal stripped the young human quickly and efficiently.
The Elrondion twins arrived with hot water, cloths and bandages. Legolas
stood back out of the way still visibly distressed.
"Hannon le," Thranduil thanked the twins as he took a cloth
from Elladan, dipped it into the hot water and bathed his son. Elrohir
walked over to Legolas and placed a comforting arm around his friend's
shoulders. Maglor attended to the bloodied forearms and hands cleaning,
salving and bandaging the limbs. After dressing Faramir in fresh leggings
and under tunic, the elven King and Seneschal covered the young man
with several blankets. The young Steward did not stir once throughout,
either due to excessive emotion or excessive wine, Thranduil could not
tell which.
After Faramir was made comfortable, Thranduil sat on the groundsheet
beside the head of the bed in which his son lay so that he could reach
out and soothe him as necessary. Legolas moved to sit further down near
his brother's feet. Both sat in silence as Maglor and the Elrondion
twins left to allow the King and Prince privacy.
"Ai, my elfling!" Thranduil exclaimed quietly as he looked
at Legolas. "So little shows on the surface with this one."
"Mithrandir once told me that Faramir had learned to hide in plain
sight because of the way he had been treated by Denethor," Legolas
said as he adjusted the blankets covering the young Steward, tucking
them more securely around his brother. "I now realise exactly what
he meant. Oh ada! He is in so much pain. What are we to do? How are
we to help him?"
"Be there for him, my elfling," Thranduil counselled. "I
begin to better understand why he has no love for himself and why he
has a keen intelligence except with matters pertaining to self-preservation,"
the elven King added as he stroked Faramir's hair, as much to sooth
his own shattered calm as that of his sleeping son.
"He will continue to put himself at risk," Legolas stated.
"Yes my elfling, I am afraid he will. Estel is also aware of this,
which is why he is so adamant that his Steward will face him in addition
to any punishments he has already received for the any offence related
to putting himself in the way of harm unnecessarily. Estel does not
want to lose this one and neither do I," Thranduil whispered with
passion.
Thranduil and Legolas continued to keep vigil as Faramir slept until
well into the next morning. The young Steward woke feeling groggy and
with a pounding head. He could feel the presence of his ada and brother.
Faramir remembered drinking with the Ithilien rangers the evening before
but could not remember much else except for a dream…
"I had the most awful dream…" Faramir groaned but then
stopped abruptly as he saw the bandages, which extended from hand to
elbow. "It was no dream…" Faramir moaned as colour drained
from his already pale face and tears welled in his eyes.
"Shhhh… ion-nin," Thranduil soothed as he stroked his
son's hair and looked into his tear-filled eyes. "You had a battle
memory. It happens, ion-nin."
"Oh ada! I am sorry to be such a burden… so weak and so
flawed," Faramir sobbed.
"You are no burden, ion-nin and you are neither weak nor flawed!
And if you ever say that again, distressed or not, I will turn you over
my knee and blister your behind. Do your hear me, tithen-pen?"
Thranduil growled quietly.
Faramir nodded, sobbing anew. The elven King sat on the edge of the
camp bed, gathered his human son into his arms, and rocked the young
man as he sobbed out his pain in earnest. Faramir lay in the arms of
his father for a long time gaining comfort from the contact. He would
never grow tired of his elven father's hugs he thought, so like Boromir's.
Some time later Maglor entered with the morning meal. Faramir groaned.
"Is there anyway I can escape eating this morning?" Faramir
asked in a whisper meant only for his father. The young Steward was
feeling decidedly delicate.
"No!" came the immediate response from both Thranduil and
Maglor whose keen elven hearing caught his young charge's whispered
request. Legolas, who had been sitting on the floor near his brother's
feet during the entire exchange between his father and brother, chuckled.
Faramir glared at his brother and then settled back into the arms of
his father and sighed in resignation.
On to Part 7
