Three days after waking in his mother’s garden having been drugged,
yet again, by his elven father’s Seneschal Maglor, after being
paddled severely by Lord Elrond, Mithrandir and Elessar, Faramir was
still decidedly sore and sorry for himself. Elf, wizard and King had
shown no mercy in walloping him for the incident at Dol Guldur. The
young Steward of Gondor, feeling the pain in his hindquarters caused
by the instrument of torture in the form of a red paddle used with such
gusto so recently, was harbouring a grudge. Not a substantial grudge
as far as grudges go but still - a grudge. Faramir was still, for Boromir
had often teased his younger brother for having the memory of an Oliphant,
smarting over the instructions Elessar had sent, so thoughtfully in
the Steward’s opinion, to the King of Mirkwood for creating the
bane of his existence; aptly named Faramir’s Bane – elvish
version.
The Steward of Gondor walked towards the King’s private dining
hall to partake of his morning meal, having just come back from a walk
in the garden. Still pondering what to do about ‘the’ grudge
Faramir walked into the dining hall, unfortunately he did not see the
King’s two very large and boisterous hunting dogs, gifted to the
King of Gondor by the King of Rohan, until they had both jumped upon
him and sent the young Steward toppling backwards and downwards to end
up with a resounding thump on his still very tender posterior. If the
Steward had not been preoccupied with trying to contain a howl of pain
and fend off the licking dogs, he would have seen the various reactions
of sympathy and merriment on the faces of the morning guests, human,
elven, hobbit, wizard and dwarf.
Faramir was just about to mutter a vile curse when a hand appeared
before his face. Looking up Faramir saw that the hand belonged to Maglor.
The young Steward blushed furiously at the knowing look and raised eyebrow
of the Seneschal. How does he do that! Faramir thought as he took hold
of the proffered hand and was hauled to his feet. Smiling, Maglor patted
the young human on the shoulder and sent him on his way.
The dogs were just about to jump on Faramir again when Aragorn called
the exuberant animals to heel. Still blushing, the Steward made his
way over to the dining table to an empty seat situated to the left of
the King, opposite the Elrondion twins in between elven King and elven
Prince, both of whom had identical twinkles in their eyes. Sure enough
a cushion graced the chair. Faramir sighed in resignation at the peculiarity
of elven humour and sat down, carefully.
“Good morning, my Steward,” Aragorn greeted, smiling from
ear to ear.
“Good morning, Sire” Faramir sighed knowing this was going
to be a long, long day as he saw that a dog sat on the floor on either
side of his chair. “Sire, your dogs seem to be a little…exuberant
this morning. Do you perchance know why?”
Several coughs and chuckles could be heard around the table at Faramir’s
understated phrasing.
“I do not know. No one else has been greeted in such a manner
this morning. I have only seen them this excited when they can smell
honey. They both possess a sweet tooth,” Aragorn explained bemused.
“Ah, that would explain it. I visited the beekeeper this morning,”
the Steward replied. Faramir had chanced upon the beekeeper during his
morning walk and had scored some fresh honeycomb.
Faramir was greeted by both Thranduil and Legolas and began the meal
that had been placed in front of him. An idea began to form in the devious
mind of the young Steward of Gondor.
“Oh, muindor tithen, I do not like that look you have on your
face. I do not like that look at all,” Legolas leaned over and
whispered to Faramir as he recognised the look of unfettered mischief
that graced his human brother’s features. “You are planning
some deviltry.” Faramir gave the elf his most wide-eyed look of
innocence. “That look scares me even more,” Legolas shuddered
as he searched the faces around the table to see if anyone else had
noticed. Faramir smirked and continued to eat his morning meal.
After the meal had concluded and the guests had departed, Legolas
bailed up Faramir as the Steward made his way to the kitchens and demanded
to know what his human brother was planning. Faramir looked down both
ends of the corridor to check if anyone was around and then pulled Legolas
into a small alcove, sat on a stone ledge and explained his plan in
detail. At the conclusion of the explanation Legolas let out a breath
he did not realise he was holding, in a whoosh.
“You do realise, muindor tithen, that we are likely to get our
arses blistered for this,” Legolas warned but relishing the idea
just the same.
“Only if we get caught, brother,” Faramir smiled remembering
Legolas saying the same to him, prior to their having secured the obnoxious
Amras to the highest rafter in the great hall in Mirkwood.
“And how likely is that?” Legolas asked, looking askance
at his brother.
“Almost guaranteed…unfortunately,” Faramir replied
with a shudder.
The Steward of Gondor invited the King to share a bottle of wine with
him and Legolas after he had finished with his Kingly appointments for
the day. Aragorn agreed and after his final appointment made his way
to the Steward’s apartments. En route the King was jumped from
behind, wrestled to the ground and before he had a chance to call out
was blindfolded, gagged and bound. The assailants took the King into
an unoccupied room situated in an isolated part of the palace. What
the assailants did not see was a certain Mirkwood Seneschal following
in the shadows.
“Have you seen Estel?” Arwen asked, looking a little disconcerted,
as she saw Legolas and Faramir walking towards her. “He seems
to be missing.” The Elrondion twins were with her.
“No, I have not seen him but we heard his laughter a few minutes
ago coming from down the corridor in that direction,” Faramir
replied looking at Legolas for confirmation as he waved in the general
direction from whence they had come. Legolas nodded in affirmation.
“Thank you,” Arwen sighed in relief as she and her brothers
walked in the direction the Steward had indicated. It was not long before
the trio of elves heard Estel’s laughter intermingled with shouts
and curses. Following the sound, the elves came upon a room, opened
the door and entered. The sight that greeted them made Arwen put a hand
over her mouth to stop a giggle that wanted to escape. The Elrondion
twins had no such restraint and as one, burst out into raucous laughter.
Both twins fell back against the wall near the door and slid down until
they were sitting on the floor, howling in laugher. For there tied to
a bed with his bare feet dangling over the edge was Estel. Hanging from
a cross beam of the four-poster bed was a tankard of honey, tilted in
such a manner that the honey dripped slowly onto Estel’s feet.
The two sweet-toothed hunting dogs were licking the honey from the helpless
King’s feet.
The raucous laughter from the twins and the cursing from Estel soon
brought others. Elrond, Gandalf and the hobbits entered the room. Elrond,
on seeing his human son’s predicament, removed the blindfold and
started to release Estel’s bonds. The wizard was maintaining a
level of decorum but had a very familiar twinkle in his eyes and the
hobbits were laughing merrily.
“Who did this Estel?” Elrond asked.
“I have my suspicions, though I lack the proof. I was jumped
from behind!” Aragorn exclaimed indignantly with a look that promised
retribution against the perpetrator as he jumped to his feet and stormed
out of the room.
Faramir and Legolas had just enjoyed the midday meal with Thranduil,
Maglor and Finrod. The repartee during the course of the lunch had been
witty and funny. Faramir rose from the table and was about excuse himself
to attend to duties when Elessar came storming into the room, bare feet
fair flapping on the floorboards. With the expression of a predator
Elessar made a beeline straight for his prey – his Steward.
“I will just be…” Faramir began as he saw the look
in his King’s eye and turned tail and ran as fast as his ranger
legs would carry him, with Aragorn in hot pursuit.
“You are dead meat, my Stewart,” the King growled as he
pursued his quarry.
Nothern ranger chased Ithilien ranger through corridors, doors, rooms;
past startled servants and guests and out finally, into the private
garden. As Aragorn continued to chase Faramir around the garden, the
galleries, that is balconies and trees, were beginning to fill with
observers, elven, hobbit, human, wizard and dwarf. The observers watched
the entertaining sight of the King of Gondor chasing the Steward of
Gondor.
After endless dodging Faramir, winded, found himself cornered with
the pond in front of him. The Steward turned to an equally winded King
and was about to try to reason with him when Aragorn came at him low
and tackled him sending both of them into the pond. Both wrestled until
the ludicrousness of their rather wet situations tickled their sense
of the ridiculous and caused them to both burst out into laughter.
Clapping could be heard from the galleries. Shaking his head ruefully,
Aragorn rose to his feet and held out a hand to Faramir. The Steward
looked at the hand in suspicion but then decided take hold of his King’s
hand and was hauled to his feet. Both rangers bowed to the galleries,
sheepishly.
“Why come after me and not Legolas?” Faramir asked intrigued.
“I know my friend. Although Legolas is mischievous, this had
a deviousness that could only have sprung from the mind of one such
as you,” Aragorn replied.
“Thank you...I think,” Faramir said uncertain, as he walked
towards Legolas who was smiling like a loon.
Some time later, Thranduil and Maglor, sitting on the bench beneath
Faramir’s tree, were enjoying the peace and quiet of the garden
after the earlier entertainment. The evlen King had secured a bottle
of wine and two glasses.
“You were there I assume?” Thranduil asked his Seneschal
as he poured the glasses of wine.
“Yes, I knew the young one was planning some form of devilment,
so I followed,” Maglor confirmed, taking the preferred glass.
“Why did you not stop them?” Thranduil questioned gently,
although he already knew the answer.
“I just did not have the heart, they were having so much fun,”
Maglor replied. “And the young one deserves new memories of this
place.”
“You are a wise man, my Seneschal.” Thranduil complimented
as he toasted his Seneschal and his sons.
The End
On to Elves,
Orcs and the Road to Recovery
Please let me know what you think of this story at drasnia@optusnet.com.au
