Faramir Fiction Archive

Reasons Not to Trust an Elf (NC-17)

Written by RubyElf

21 January 2011 | 12129 words

Part 5

“Captain Faramir!” a voice called.

Faramir stopped and glanced over his shoulder. One of his brother’s unit captains had tracked him down in the stable, and he sighed and set his saddle down, suspecting that the prospect of a peaceful afternoon ride was about to be ruined.

“Yes?”

“You don’t happen to know where Lord Boromir is, do you?”

Faramir raised an eyebrow. “No, I don’t. Why would you be asking me?”

“Well, we can’t seem to find him. He told us yesterday to have our gear packed and be ready for an assignment by lunch time today, and there’s no sign of him.”

Faramir frowned. It certainly wasn’t like his brother to leave an entire unit in full travel gear standing around waiting for his orders.

“I’ll see if I can track him down. If you haven’t heard from one of the two of us within the hour, have your men head home for the day… it’ll be late to ride out by then anyway.”

“I’ll do that.”

The streets of the lower levels of the city were busy on this cold, sunny afternoon, people bundled up against the chill hurrying from shop to shop, the inns and pubs full of customers enjoying lunch and a beverage (or several). Faramir looked over the heads of the crowd; he knew his target would be the only one strolling around the city with golden blond hair and no hat on.

After much fruitless searching that revealed no hint of Legolas or his brother, he reluctantly decided that he might as well seek Aragorn’s assistance in the matter. If nothing else, the king’s command could mobilize the entire city and have Legolas in front of him within the hour. The elf’s whereabouts became clear, however, as soon as Faramir walked into the royal family’s rooms and found Legolas seated at the dining table with Arwen.

“There you are,” Faramir said. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Legolas glanced at him and poured himself another glass of wine. Arwen smiled and motioned to a chair.

“Won’t you join us, Faramir?”

“No, thank you. I’m supposed to be locating my brother, who seems to have disappeared somewhere, and I suspect your dining companion knows exactly where he is.”

Arwen set her spoon down and gave Legolas a sharp look. “I thought he was with my husband, organizing the patrol groups.”

“That’s interesting,” Faramir said, “since the patrol groups in question haven’t seen Boromir or the King all day, and they’re wondering why that would be.”

Legolas glanced from Faramir to Arwen and back. “I have no idea where they are.”

“Legolas,” Arwen said reproachfully. “What have you done with them?”

“I haven’t done anything with them! Why would you assume that anything that goes wrong is my fault?”

“Because nine times out of ten, it is,” Faramir said. “And the one time that it isn’t, you still probably had something to do with it.”

Arwen rose from her chair. “Legolas, you will take me to my husband right this minute, or I swear by the Valar I’ll have the guards hold you down and shave every inch of your head.”

The elf paled slightly. Arwen did not make idle threats.

“Now,” she added.

He stood up, brushing himself off. “Very well, then, but if we interrupt something, it’ll be your fault.”

Arwen signed and took Faramir’s arm as they followed Legolas into the hall.

“What is he up to now?”

“I expect he’s locked them up together somewhere, thinking they’ll have made up by the time he comes to let them out.”

Arwen laughed. “He doesn’t know my husband or your brother as well as he thinks he does, then. If he’s got them locked up somewhere, all they’ll have done the entire time is plot how to get revenge on him for doing it.”

Legolas led them across the courtyard and down one of the narrower halls which was generally used for storage. The rooms had no fireplace, no lamps, and only very small windows, and Faramir thought to himself about the sort of mood both men were likely to be in if they’d been in there since before lunch.

Legolas stopped and pointed at one of the doors.

“You locked them in there?” Faramir asked. “How did you manage that?”

Legolas sighed. “Told Aragorn that his wife wanted him to get something from down here, and told Boromir you needed something.”

Arwen raised her eyebrows. “Legolas, I do believe you’ve been warned what would happen if you tried to pull me into one of your little schemes…”

“Open the door,” Faramir said.

“Maybe you should,” Legolas said uneasily.

Faramir grabbed him by the tunic and pushed him toward the door. “Oh, no. You’re the one who put two bears in there… now you get to be the one to let them out.”

Legolas approached the door warily and slid back the bolt holding it closed from the outside. For a moment, nothing happened, and Legolas glanced over his shoulder to say something to Faramir, but at that moment the door opened and a sturdy arm shot out, the broad hand neatly capturing the elf by his slender neck and lifting him completely off the ground. Faramir watched the blue eyes widen in alarm.

“Hmm. Doesn’t matter how strong you are if you can’t reach the floor, does it,” Boromir said, stepping out of his storage room prison and making sure to hold Legolas up where he had no leverage against the walls or the floor.

“Put him down, Boromir,” Arwen said gently.

Boromir opened his hand and let the elf drop. He scrambled to his feet, rubbing his bruised throat and glaring at Boromir.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

“Thought about it.”

Aragorn stood in the doorway, shaking his head. “I’d have let him do it. It was cold in there. What the hell did you think you were doing?”

“Making you two get along,” Legolas said sharply.

Aragorn glanced at Boromir. “Well, we’ve come to an agreement about one thing for certain.”

“What’s that?”

“We agree that you, elf, are in a great deal of trouble.”

“That’s right,” Boromir said. “Not only did you lock the King of Gondor in a closet, but Finn’s been in my room with no one to let her out since breakfast.”

Aragorn raised an eyebrow, apparently trying to decide whether to be offended at the implication that these were crimes of equal severity. Arwen patted his arm.

“What shall we do with him?” Boromir asked.

Aragorn shrugged. “Haven’t quite decided yet. Just put him in the closet for now.”

“What? No!” Legolas protested.

“Don’t worry,” Boromir said, shoving the elf through the door. “It’ll only be till we decide what else we should do to you.”

He bolted the door and turned around with a smile. Faramir laughed.

“I doubt that will keep him quiet for long.”

Boromir shrugged. “Made me feel better.”

Arwen kissed Aragorn on the cheek. “You two have been shut up in that little room for a while. Perhaps you and Boromir should take his lovely little dog out for a walk.”

Aragorn and Boromir both scowled.

“It does not take two people to walk a dog,” Aragorn said.

“Besides, she’s my dog,” Boromir argued.

Faramir saw something flash through Arwen’s eyes; mild as they usually were, they could turn to the piercing steel gaze that her father could use to silence an entire room, and through the smile on her face did not change, both men fell silent, pinned by her stare. Arwen Evenstar, daughter of Lord Elrond and Queen of Gondor, was putting her foot down.

“That’s quite enough,” she said, her voice still sweet, but sharp as a wire beneath the calm tone. “You two will go to Boromir’s room and take the dog out for a while. And when you come back, you will be dealing with each other in a civil and reasonable manner, because if you don’t, I will make both of you very, very sorry. And you know I can do that, don’t you?”

Both men swallowed hard and nodded, and Faramir thought to himself that he very much hoped never to be on the receiving end of a look like that from the Queen.

“Good,” she said happily, and took Faramir’s arm. “Shall we, Captain?”

Faramir glanced at his brother and Aragorn with an expression that was part apology and part warning.

“Are you going to let me out now?” came a voice from behind the wooden door.

“No,” the two men said, at the same time.

Boromir sighed. “Well, let’s go get this over with.”

Aragorn scowled. “Am I that unpleasant to talk to?”

“Sometimes,” Boromir muttered. Then, relenting, he added, “I was talking about seeing what Finn’s done to my room being shut in there all day.”

Aragorn grinned. “That may be unpleasant. Perhaps since we’re to be civil to each other, I can help you clean up.”

Finn was so pleased to see Boromir that she nearly tripped him in her eagerness to greet him. He scooped her up and scratched her head absently as he surveyed the damage: one of his two favorite chairs badly mauled, both of the rugs ripped to scraps, one of his leather house shoes mostly eaten, and several tooth-marked table legs.

“Could be worse,” he muttered, shaking his head at the puppy, who licked his face “Good lass. Aragorn will thank you for wrecking that chair. He thinks they’re ugly.”

“Comfortable, though,” Aragorn said.

Boromir glanced at him and began picking up scraps of the rug. “It’s been quite a while since you sat in one of them.”

“Damnit, Boromir, is that what this is all about?” Aragorn demanded. “You know I wish I wasn’t so busy all the time. If I had evenings to come and spend with you, I would.”

“You have them for anyone else who needs it.”

Aragorn shook his head. “Don’t pretend that you don’t see me every day.”

Boromir looked up for a moment, then back at the floor. “I see Ellesar every day. I haven’t seen you in quite some time.”

Finn, darting past, snatched a scrap of the rug out of his hands, then looked back at him curiously when he didn’t pursue her. Boromir stood up and took her lead from a hook on the wall.

“Come on, love. Let’s go for a walk.”

Finn raced to him, ears flapping.

“Boromir…” Aragorn attempted.

“We’re to be taking a walk, remember?” Boromir said, still refusing to look at him. “I’m not going to disobey the Queen… I suspect she could kill a man with those eyes if she had a mind to.”

“I’m quite sure of it,” Aragorn agreed, still trying to find a way to go back to a few moments before and say something to make it right.

“Then we’d better do as she says,” Boromir said, as Finn tugged him toward the door. “Are you coming or not?”

“Do you want me to come?” Aragorn asked.

Boromir thought for a moment, looking at the door in front of him.

“I’m not sure,” he said, and let Finn drag him out into the cold afternoon.

Aragorn hesitated for a moment, but decided that since the answer he’d received was better than the one he’d expected (something along the lines of “bugger off” with some choice insults added for good measure), he had best not waste the chance, and hurried down the hall to catch up with them.

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