Faramir Fiction Archive

Human King, Elven King and one Stubborn Steward

Written by KC

05 November 2004 | 20383 words

Part 10b

Sighing heavily Faramir walked past Lord Elrond and into the warg’s den. The elven Lord followed the young Steward of Gondor, closing the door behind him. The sight that greeted Faramir made him sidle as far away from the angry trio as possible towards the opposite door that led into a hallway. Aragorn was pacing he was so angry. The thunderous glares from human King, wizard and elven Lord incited the young Ranger’s flight instincts. With no thought as to what he was doing, let alone the ramifications thereof, Faramir made for the other door, opened the door moving into hallway quickly, closed the door behind him, grabbed a pike that was mounted on the wall and jammed the pike into the doorway so that the door could not be opened from the other side. The young Steward then flew down the hallway.

Aragorn growled as he made his way to the door.

“He has barred the door! I cannot open it!!” Aragorn roared in frustration as he rattled the door.

Thranduil, very calm and with a twinkle in his eye, held up a hand to stay Aragorn.

“Leban (5)…canad (4)…neled (3)…tad (2)…min (1)…” Thranduil counted backwards.

Looking very confused, Aragorn was just about to ask the elven King what he was doing when a familiar sound followed by a familiar yelp could be heard from the other side of the barred door.

“That language is not as dead as you think it is, pen-neth and you will learn to keep a civil tongue in your head,” the elven King’s Seneschal’s booming voice could be heard followed by another whack and another yelp.

After much rattling the door was finally opened. Maglor, holding a familiar red paddle, walked into the room with Faramir strung over his shoulder like a very unhappy stack of laundry. The Seneschal dropped the Steward onto his feet but continued to hold the young human by the scruff of his neck.

To Thranduil, Faramir looked like a very frightened rabbit. Taking pity on his human son the elven King rose from his chair, walked over to the frightened young human and gathered Faramir into his arms.

“Ion-nin. You need to accept the punishment that is coming. You need to understand how deeply you affect others when you place your life at risk, needlessly,” Thranduil explained to his human son in a quiet voice filled with gentleness and affection. Faramir calmed somewhat in the arms of his elven father and nodded his head once in understanding. Taking a deep, deep breath, Faramir turned around to face the others.

Aragorn was moved by the scene between the elven King and his Steward, amazed by the depth of feeling that had developed between the elf and human in such a short period of time. Aragorn was thankful that his Steward finally had a loving father in his life.

Maglor gave the elven paddle to King Thranduil quietly and moved out into the hallway, closing the door behind him, to ensure that privacy was maintained.

Aragorn moved to stand in front of his Steward and gathered Faramir into his arms.

“I do not want to lose my Steward nor see him hurt. It would wound my heart,” Aragorn explained quietly. “I cannot believe you did what you did and you had done so before, not once but twice!” Aragorn exclaimed in a harsh whisper as he continued to embrace his young Steward. Faramir winced, as Aragorn’s embrace was getting a little tight. My arse is toast the hapless young Steward thought. “Alright my young Steward, leggings down and bend over the back of that chair,” Aragorn commanded, indicating the plush lounge chair that he had been sitting in, situated closest to the window.

With a tremulous sigh, Faramir made his way over to the chair, loosened his leggings, pushed them down and leaned over the back of the lounge chair as directed.

“Estel,” Thranduil said to draw Aragorn’s attention and handed the human King the red paddle.

Aragorn examined the paddle, impressed by the workmanship. Faramir saw the paddle and groaned.

“I warn you my young Steward. I do not want to hear of you doing anything remotely akin to the madness you pulled in Dol Guldur. This punishment, I hope, will be truly memorable, to ensure that you think very wisely and very long before you jeopardise your life in such a manner again,” Aragorn said sternly. “You will receive twenty swats from Lord Elrond, then from Gandalf and then from myself,” Aragorn said looking to Thranduil for confirmation. Thranduil nodded his head in affirmation.

“Twenty!! But sire…” Faramir exclaimed, temper flaring as he straightened in indignation.

“Twenty-five if you argue,” Aragorn declared with a raised eyebrow reminiscent of Lord Elrond.

Knowing a lost battle when confronted with one, Faramir attempted to swallow his anger and resumed his position over the back of the lounge chair. Aragorn gave the paddle to Elrond.

“What is this punishment for pen-neth,” Lord Elrond asked as he landed the first stinging swat.

“For outrunning the bloody orcs!!” Faramir snapped, his temper taking control of his mouth yet again.

“I suggest you reign in that temper of yours pen-neth,” Lord Elrond replied as he continued to land stinging swat after stinging swat to Faramir’s hindquarters.

---

Legolas winced again, for like the other elves he could hear what was happening in the other room. He knew that his young human brother had mouthed off again. The hobbits and Gimli could not, thankfully, hear what was going on although Legolas knew they suspected. The elven Prince was forced to explain what Faramir had done at Dol Guldur, as the hobbits, being the intensely curious creatures that they were, would not accept evasive or vague responses to their numerous questions.

---

By the time Lord Elrond had reached twenty, Faramir’s buttocks were as red as the paddle. The Elven Lord had shown no mercy. Faramir was whimpering softly as Gandalf took the paddle from Lord Elrond.

“I have loved you as a grandson, my young pupil and I will not see you lost to us,” Gandalf growled as he too showed the young Steward no mercy in the hopes that the lesson would be learned. Gandalf continued to paddle Faramir until the young man was sobbing. After the designated twenty swats, Gandalf stopped and passed the paddle to Aragorn.

Thranduil moved to sit on the arm of the lounge chair that Faramir was bent over; as he knew the next twenty swats would be the hardest for his son to take. Thranduil stroked Faramir’s hair as he crooned a litany of elvish words to his young human son.

“You have spoken of the emptiness in your life with the death of Boromir. What you do not realise is that you would leave an emptiness in the lives of so many if you were to die,” Aragorn said as he landed the first blow to Faramir’s already abused bottom. “I will not see that happen!! Aragorn growled as he continued to paddle Faramir hard.

The young Steward by this stage was sobbing openly. After a count of twenty, Aragorn ceased the punishment. Thranduil pulled his young human son’s leggings up causing Faramir to hiss in pain. The elven King gathered Faramir in his arms, sat down in the chair as he continued to rock his distraught son.

With tears in his eyes, Aragorn bent down and kissed Faramir on the forehead and saw that Thranduil also had tears in his eyes. Seeing Aragorn’s distress, Lord Elrond gathered his human son into a hug. Aragorn, Elrond and Gandalf left elven father and human son alone, leaving by the door that led into the hallway.

Not long after, Legolas entered the room and closed the door behind him. Kneeling down beside the chair, Legolas stoked his brother’s hair in a comforting motion. Maglor entered from the hallway carrying a goblet filled with a sleeping draft. Thranduil took the goblet, smiling his thanks to Maglor and held the cup to Faramir’s mouth.

“You have got some very unsavoury habits Maglor” Faramir grumbled as he drank the draft. “You are always in places you should not be, you make that bloody red ‘thing’ appear out of thin air and you are always trying to dr…ug ...m…” Faramir fell asleep mid word.

The Seneschal looked down upon the young human and smiled, surreptitiously wiping a tear from his eye.

---

Faramir awoke slowly and in stages. The first thing he was aware of was the throbbing pain in his rear end and that he was lying on his stomach. Oh joy he thought. Then he remembered why. Oh crap he thought. The young Steward then realised he was outside. Opening an eye he saw that he was lying on several blankets under his tree in the private garden his mother had established.

“Do not even think of saying it, or I swear I will hang you by your elven ears from the top of the tower,” Faramir grumbled into the pillow someone was kind enough to have provided.

Elven and human laughter greeted the surly comment.

Faramir rolled onto his side to see who was gathered. Legolas was there of course, as was his elven father, Aragorn, Mithrandir, Elrond, Finrod and Maglor.

The eyes of the Mirkwood elves grew distant for a moment. Faramir knew that they were communing with the tree. All four elves burst out laughing.

“She is scolding us for not looking after her elfling,” Legolas giggled.

“Who is?” Aragorn asked

Faramir groaned in embarrassment covering his face with his hands.

“Who is? Aragorn demanded looking bewildered.

The elves laughed louder.

 

The End

 

On to Sweet Revenge or Let Licking Dogs Lie

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

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