Faramir Fiction Archive

Human King, Elven King and one Stubborn Steward

Written by KC

05 November 2004 | 20383 words

Part 9

A few days later preparations had been completed for their departure for Gondor. Thranduil left his kingdom in the care of a trusted senior advisor and he, Legolas, Maglor, Finrod and Faramir departed for the White City. Faramir sighed with relief at being able to sit on a horse comfortably for the first time since arriving at the Halls of Mirkwood.

The Journey to Minas Tirith began pleasantly enough, allowing Faramir to bond further with his elven father. Growing up in the White City, the young Steward of Gondor had had little in the way of physical affection except from Boromir and Gandalf and his uncle Imrahil on their infrequent visits to the city. When Faramir had arrived at the Halls of Mirkwood he envied the relationship that Legolas enjoyed with his father, tactile and gentle. The elven King was not reluctant to show his obvious affection for his son in public. Faramir now found himself on the receiving end of the elven King’s affection. The young Steward could not stop his tendency to flinch when his elven father raised a hand suddenly, as a raised hand from Denethor never ended in a caress but slap or much, much worse. Every time it happened a look of sadness would cross Thranduil’s features. The King however, would not withdraw but wait patiently for a sheepish look of apology from Faramir, before slowly and gently enveloping his human son in a hug.

The closer the Steward of Gondor got to Minas Tirith, the more subdued he became. All four elves noted the change in their human travelling companion but were at a loss as to what to do about the situation. Thranduil and Legolas suspected the causes of Faramir’s sombreness but could do nothing to alleviate them, except to offer comfort where they could.

One week from the White City the travellers came to a small town and decided to stay at an inn for the night. The unusual sight of so many elves created much excitement in the otherwise quiet town. The inn chosen was a very old wooden and stone structure that had seen better days. Surprisingly though, when the travellers entered the inn, it proved to be warm, inviting and most importantly for the fastidious elves, clean. The bar was a wooden, three sided, oblong shaped structure with an empty centre that allowed the bartender to serve drinks on three sides by walking up and down the centre. The ‘fourth’ side of the bar led into the kitchen. Long wooden tables with bench seats surrounded the three sides of the bar. The inn contained two fireplaces against the walls on opposite sides of the longer sections of the bar. As it was chilly this night both fires were alight.

It was still early so there were very few locals in the establishment as yet. The five travellers sat at one of the tables near the fireplace on the side opposite to the entrance of the inn. Legolas sat down beside Faramir. It was not long before a young barmaid approached them to take their order. The elves and human enjoyed a fine meal with good wine as the inn’s cook turned out to be very good indeed. As the travellers ate, the inn began to fill with locals. It seemed that word had spread quickly about the presence of elves. Encouraged by the locals the elves sang songs and told stories, providing entertainment for all.

Quite late into the night the three older elves, Thranduil, Maglor and Finrod bid Legolas and Faramir a goodnight and went to their beds. Before leaving, an unspoken command passed from Thranduil to Legolas to look after Faramir or else, for it was obvious that his human son had imbibed too much wine.

Dreading both the memories that would resurface in Minas Tirith and the inevitable confrontation with the King, well confrontation on Aragorn’s part for he, the Steward of Gondor, could offer no defence, Faramir decided that the most appropriate thing he could do right now was to get blind drunk, in a word - to get legless with Legolas. That thought gave Faramir the giggles and he put a hand over his mouth in attempt to stop them or at least muffle the undignified little beasties. Shaking his head, Legolas looked askance at his obviously drunk, giggling human brother in amusement.

“I think you have had enough, muindor tithen. I suggest we go for a walk to clear your head,” Legolas instructed as he took the goblet of wine away from Faramir.

Faramir made a movement to grab the goblet back but thought better of it as the room began to spin. Seeing the familiar green tinge to Faramir’s face, Legolas practically carried him out of the inn and into the chill night air. The young Steward took a few deep breaths as he attempted to regain some control over his stomach’s insistence that it wanted to divest itself of all content therein. Legolas helped Faramir to sit down on one of the benches that were dotted about for guests of the inn for use during the day.

After some time, Faramir overcame the urge to be sick and decided that Legolas’ suggestion of a walk was not a bad idea, so they set out down the road that led in the opposite direction from whence they had come. A group of ten young men walked towards them. Still very much under the influence of the wine he had consumed, Faramir stumbled and would have fallen if Legolas had not caught him around the waist and held his human brother until he regained his balance.

“What do we have here? An elf and his lover,” came the snide remark from the leader and by far the largest member of the pack, as the ten young men circled Legolas and Faramir. The other’s laughed as they eyed Legolas in particular. Faramir, not feeling so drunk suddenly, bristled at the lustful looks that were being directed at his elven brother.

“Pretty enough,” the youth with the long scraggly hair and bad acne, standing to the right of the leader, leered. “I wonder if he is a good lay? Maybe we should try…”

Before the youth could finish the sentence Faramir exploded into action. Taking out the young man with the bad acne with an uppercut to the jaw, Faramir set his sights on the leader of the pack. Taken by surprise it took a few moments for the youths to gather wits enough to fight, by that time Faramir had taken out another young man with a combination punch to the midriff followed by an uppercut to the jaw and Legolas had laid out another with a double handed chop to the back of the youth’s neck. Faramir took a few blows in the exchanges but not enough to slow him down as he took out another youth with a right-left combination.

The young Steward of Gondor just about had his hands on the leader of the pack when all of sudden, they were surrounded by members of the constabulary. The young men still conscious ran in every direction chased after by constables. Legolas and Faramir remained to face the consequences. Both were marched off the local gaol.

Faramir made his way over to one of two cots in their cell and sat down heavily and Legolas crouched down in front of him.

“What damage has been done to you, muindor tithen,” Legolas said as he cupped Faramir’s chin to raise his human brother’s head.

“I am sorry Legolas, I have got you in trouble,” Faramir apologised.

“Do not apologise, muindor tithen,” Legolas said as he tore a piece of his under-tunic and used it to stop the bleeding of a cut above Faramir’s left eye and wipe away the blood that had tricked down his dejected brother’s face. “You were defending my honour,” Legolas chuckled, getting a small smile from Faramir in return.

---

Before long the bleeding from the gash above Faramir’s left eye abated and Legolas moved to sit on the other cot. All they could do now was wait. Neither felt like talking. It was not long before King Thranduil came in answer to the summons made by the sheriff of the town. From the other side of the cell door, the elven King looked down upon his wayward sons. The sheriff stood to his right and Maglor to his left. Both sons looked up at their father and winced at the thunderous expression on his face.

“I have but one question to ask the both of you, who threw the first punch?” Thranduil asked as he noted the condition of Faramir’s clothing, rumpled and torn and the nasty gash above his left eye. Faramir winced again and swallowed trying to moisten his suddenly dry mouth.

“I did sir…ada,” Faramir corrected shyly, ducking his head, on receiving ‘the look’ from his elven father.

“Ada. Faramir was defending me…” Legolas’ voice trailed away as he received a quelling look from his father.

“Faramir!! As in the Steward of Gondor and Prince of Ithilien?” the sheriff, wide-eyed and face draining of blood, asked as he looked from Thranduil to Faramir and back again.

“Thranduil, Sire. I think we need to get these two out of here and resume this discussion in a more appropriate location,” Maglor, ever the voice of reason, advised his King.

“Thranduil!! As in King Thranduil of Mirkwood?” the sheriff all but squeaked in distress.

“The sheriff here has been kind enough to release you both into my custody, given that the young human’s you fought are known to the law,” Thranduil explained as the panic-stricken sheriff fumbled with cell keys and cell doors in an effort to release its occupants as quickly as possible.

Finally the panicked sheriff was able to open the door. Legolas walked out of the cell and past his father. Faramir followed head bowed. The elven King stopped his human son and put a finger under Faramir’s chin to lift his human son’s head, so that he could examine the gash. Satisfied that it would not need stiches, Thranduil looked at Faramir critically.

“You are in trouble Faramir Thranduilion,” the elven King whispered into his human son’s ear as the young Steward passed by.

Faramir, both frightened and reassured by the words, let out a trembling sigh as he made his way back to the inn with his elven father close behind him. On reaching the inn the young Steward made his way to the room he and Legolas were sharing for the night and sat down upon the bed. Legolas had been directed to another room. Thranduil looked in on Faramir a few moments later.

“I am going to deal with Legolas first, ion-nin. I will be…”

“Please…a-ada,” Faramir interrupted, stammering over the word. “It was my fault, not Legolas’. He should not be punished,” the young Steward added, voice thick with remorse.

Feeling the raw emotion emanating from his human son, Thranduil sat down beside him and in slow and gentle movements gathered the distressed young man in his arms.

“Legolas will be punished for not calling to us for assistance. My elfling and I have had this conversation before and will, no doubt, have this conversation again,” Thranduil explained. “I am afraid he received too much from me in the way of pride,” the elven King added with a chuckle eliciting a small smile from Faramir. “And you ion-nin, do you know what you are being punished for?” Thranduil asked as he continued to hug his human son.

“For losing my temper and throwing the first punch,” Faramir replied dejectedly.

“Ion-nin, I could never punish you for losing your temper for that would indeed be pot, kettle, black, for I have lost my temper more times than I care to remember and have suffered the consequences, for I had no brother to keep me in line,” Thranduil confided. “You are to be punished for attacking first and not using your considerable intelligence and diplomatic skills to find a solution. You really should not drink ion-nin, for you do not have the head for it.”

Faramir groaned for Boromir and Gandalf, not to mention most of his Ithilien rangers, had told him the same thing in virtually the same words.

“I must see to Legolas, ion-nin,” Thranduil said as he released Faramir, rose and left the room.

Thranduil walked into the room across the hall and looked at his elven son who was standing by the only window in the room. Legolas looked at his father in concern.

“How is Faramir, ada?” Legolas asked as soon as he saw his father.

“Upset at having got you into trouble, elfling,” Thranduil replied as he walked over to the bed and sat down.

“Ai! He is so stubborn! I have tried to explain to him that I am more than capable of getting myself into trouble. I do not need his help…” Legolas blushed and bowed his head as he realised that not asking for help was the reason he was in trouble now.

“You are right ion-nin, you are exceptionally skilled at getting into trouble. Come elfling,” Thranduil said as he patted his lap. Legolas walked over to his father, pushed down his leggings and lowered himself over his father’s knees. “And what is this punishment for, elfling?” Thranduil asked as he landed the first blows to Legolas’ buttocks.

“For not calling for assistance,” Legolas gasped as his father continued to spank him.

---

Faramir was the picture of abandoned dejection when Finrod entered the young human’s room with water, salve and bandages to treat the young one’s wound. Faramir was sitting on the edge of the bed, with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. Startled, Faramir looked up and sighed in relief when he saw that it was Finrod.

“Greetings Finrod,” Faramir greeted the elf morosely.

“I have come to see to the gash above your eye, pen-neth,” Finrod explained as he set about cleaning and bandaging the wound.

Finrod tried to divert Faramir’s attention away from the sounds emanating from the room across the hall but could see by the young human’s flinches that his hearing was acute.

---

“I am sorry, ada,” Legolas pleaded as his father continued to blister his thighs and buttocks. A few more stinging slaps and Thranduil ceased the chastisement, pulling his elfling’s leggings up and gathering his son into his arms.

“I love you elfling,” Thranduil reassured his repentant son. “I need to see to Faramir now pen-neth. I think he has been stewing long enough,” the elven King added as he released Legolas and moved gracefully to the room where Finrod was seeing to Faramir. In the hallway between the two rooms, Maglor stopped Thranduil.

“Do you wish me to get ‘Faramir’s Bane’?” Maglor asked hesitantly.

“No, mellon-nin. I think a hand spanking is in order for his offence,” Thranduil replied.

Maglor sighed in relief. Thranduil chuckled at his Seneschal’s obvious affection for his human son.

“Thank you, Finrod,” Thranduil said as he entered the room. Finrod rose, gave Faramir a comforting pat on the shoulder and left. Faramir, head bowed would not look at Thranduil. “Oh ion-nin, you do take the world’s troubles onto your own shoulders,” Thranduil said as he again sat beside Faramir and gathered his dejected young human son into a comforting hug.

Releasing Faramir after several long moments, the elven King patted his lap. Faramir, taking his elven father’s cue, stood, loosened the ties to his leggings, pushed them down to his knees and lowered himself over the elven King’s lap.

“A hand spanking only today ion-nin,” Thranduil said as he landed the first stinging slaps to Faramir’s posterior.

“Well that is a relief,” Faramir replied sarcastically before his mind could stop the words coming forth from his mouth.

“Oh, ion-nin,” Thranduil chuckled even as he continued to blister Faramir’s buttocks and thighs, “you will be a challenge.”

Faramir berated himself severely and at great length.

Thranduil continued a blistering pace until Faramir’s whimpers became sobs and he judged the chastisement enough. The elven King pulled up his human son’s leggings, gathered him in his arms and soothed the young man as he cried out his remorse and guilt.

“Sorry…a-ada,” Faramir sobbed, again stammering over the elven word for father.

Thranduil smiled in gentle understanding of his human son’s hesitance over the word for it must have been heartbreaking to say the word father in love and receive none in return.

Legolas, knowing that Faramir’s chastisement had concluded, entered the room just as his father released Faramir from his lap. Faramir looked at Legolas in such dejected repentance that the elf walked over to his human brother and gave him a much-needed hug, which Faramir returned apologising, yet again, over getting Legolas into trouble. Legolas accepted the words in silence, knowing that words would not allay Faramir’s feelings of guilt, hoping that his actions would speak for him.

“I think you two should get to bed for we have a long ride ahead of us on the morrow,” Thranduil stated as he rose from the bed upon which he was sitting.

Faramir groaned.

“Maglor do you…” Thranduil began with a familiar twinkle in his eyes but before he could finish the sentence, Maglor was there with a large pot of healing salve.

Faramir blushed furiously but sent a shy smile of gratitude to the Seneschal as he took hold of the salve.

“I packed extra,” Maglor stated succinctly.

Thranduil laughed heartily and giving his human son another comforting hug and his elven son a hug bid them a goodnight.

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