Faramir Fiction Archive

Elves, Orcs and the Road to Recovery

Written by KC

06 November 2004 | 58662 words

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.

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