Faramir Fiction Archive

Elves, Orcs and the Road to Recovery

Written by KC

06 November 2004 | 58662 words

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. They belong to Tolkien.
Series: This is number six in the series that started with ‘Grief’, ‘Elf, Wasps and an Angry Wizard’ and ‘Stubborn Stewards and Bright Red Paddles’, ‘Human King, Elven King & One Stubborn Steward’, and ‘Sweet Revenge or Let Licking Dogs Lie’.

Please let me know what you think of this story at drasnia@optusnet.com.au

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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.

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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.

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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.

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