Faramir Fiction Archive

Recognition (G)

Written by Shireling

09 August 2006 | 8879 words

Title: Recognition
Author: Shireling
Rating: G
Pairing: N/A
Warnings: Spanking. Faramir Angst ( like that’s a surprise!)
Summary: Sometimes, to heal, it is necessary to draw on lessons from the past.

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I have seen and experienced much in my lifetime. I have fought in bloody battles, watched my companions and family cut down before me, battled against foes whose purpose of existence was the annihilation of all that I hold dear. I watched my home burn and I threw myself into the fray, careless of the gift of life, seeking only an end to the pain that was too much to endure for even another heartbeat.

I wanted peace, I wanted an end… I wanted death.

And yet I survived.

I survived and was granted a peaceful sanctuary. I was cared for and nurtured by kind and compassionate friends who I now consider to be my kin. They took me into their home, invited me into their hearts, and shared all that they had to offer. Yet at the time I did not appreciate their care; the scars of battle and grief lay too heavily upon me.

For time without measure I kept to my darkened chamber, unable to venture beyond the safety of those four sheltering walls, unable to bear the sunlight or the possibility of encountering those who also dwelt within the Lord’s halls. Only two people regularly entered my sanctuary, the Lord himself and a servant, an elderly retainer who cleaned and tidied my chamber, brought me my meals and generally tended to my welfare, never once chiding me for my silence. For I was mute, the silenced dialogue in my mind had closed my voice. I did not speak, I could not speak, I couldn’t even weep, at least not in the daytime.

My dreams were not silent; too many horrors plagued the night time hours. Many nights I was gently shaken awake to find myself cradled in the Lord’s arms, my face slick with tears and my throat hoarse in the aftermath of another nightmare. Never did he allow me to pull away or to hide myself from his gaze, though I was sure he must be sickened by my obvious weakness. He would soothe me with gentle hands and kind words, holding a cup to my lips when my own shaking hands failed me. Though I was silent he was not. It soothed me to hear his voice, to hear him speak proudly of his family, to hear his sadness over the many grievous losses that had been visited upon him, grief I could understand and share. He spoke of the sanctuary he had built, of the daily life of his people, people I knew only from his descriptions; their loves, their habits, their upsets and joy. I felt that I knew them. And he never left me without issuing an invitation to join him and his wife for a quiet supper. He never seemed to lose patience with me nor resent my silence, though I must have been a major drain on his time; he was a healer and he allowed me the space and freedom to heal in my own way, in my own time.

And when at last I was finally able to nod my acquiescence to his invitation he accepted it with a smile and a kiss of salutation upon my brow. That first step, that first hurdle was greeted with such quiet joy that I knew then that the worst was over. But it was a long slow road I travelled until I was finally able to accept for myself a role with the Lord’s entourage. Just as he had put up his sword to pursue a Healer’s role, I knew that I would never again take up a warrior’s sword. I chose quill and parchment as the tools of my newly kindled life; I found my peace amidst the scrolls and tomes of the archives.

And my voice? I found that when my Lord and Lady’s newborn twins were placed into my arms. No longer just an archivist, now I had a new role, a new purpose; I would be for these two beloved children a teacher and a mentor. I would share my skills and my knowledge, I would assist their parents in helping to shape them into proud and noble elves, I would help them to fulfil their potential. For the first time, after a millennia of grief and despair, I could see a promise for the future, a future brightened even further when My Lord and Lady were blessed with the gift of a daughter.

Within this circle of kinship I finally learned how to laugh, how to see joy in the world around me. I saw again, through the innocent eyes of childhood the wonders of creation: the beauty of a newly unfurled leaf, of a sparkling raindrop, the beauty of birdsong, the blessing of sunlight, of frost encrusted trees, of a child’s smile, of the trusting hand of a little one grasping tightly to my finger.

My twin charges are now grown, now powerful honourable warriors in their own right and yet they still honour me with their confidences and I am proud to continue to be their mentor, as I am for the other youngsters who have passed through my care over the years; youngsters not just from the Dell but also from the other Elven realms, from Mirkwood and from Lothlorien and, most recently, one not of Elvish descent but a fosterling from the world of men. It seems but the blink of an eye since he arrived in Imladris, a bewildered and confused toddler left in our care by the untimely death of his father, a refugee whose heritage placed his very life at risk.

I am proud of the man he has become, so very proud. I see the child within the man, within the King and I know that he will carry forward all that he has learned with honour and integrity, blending together his human strengths and his Elven upbringing as he weathers the difficult transition from Ranger to Monarch.

He has many to guide him and I am honoured to be amongst those he trusts to see him through these first few difficult weeks, though I can admit, if only to myself, that I find this great city of stone an oppressive and dreary place to reside. It is long since I last spent any time within a city and after the beauty and peace of Imladris the blasted ruins and rubble infested lanes fill me with disquiet. It is not that I cannot appreciate the scale and splendour of the architecture but the White City is not as it was, its heyday is long past and the decay and neglect of too many centuries is writ large upon every façade. There are few trees and even fewer green spaces to brighten the environs, nature has long been banished beyond the great city walls leaving only a few meagre window boxes and planters to brighten the sun-bleached stone. I understand that Arwen has adopted the tangled remains of the King’s garden and has promised to bring it back to its former glory, taking as her inspiration the only true remaining garden to be found in the sixth circle, the garden which surrounds and supplies the Houses of Healing with herbs and spices and produce for the healers and their patients.

There is only one place in the city in which I feel truly comfortable. I have been befriended by the keeper of the archives, a venerable elder whose task and responsibilities have long since overtaxed his increasing frailty. His infirmities are a result of age, for his mind is as sharp as a pin, he claims to know every text and document in his care and I do not doubt his claim, for although he is no longer able to climb the ladders nor ascend to the terraced shelves his explicit instructions are unerringly accurate and his young apprentice has never yet failed to produce a required tome.

While Estel has his Ada and Lord Celeborn and Prince Imrahil to guide him in matters of state, and Lord Glorfindel and his own brothers’ to assist in matters of security. I feel it necessary to find a task more suited to my own strengths. I have volunteered my services to Estel to act as a researcher, for there is much to learn and to understand in the administration of the city and the reconstruction of the land. Lord Denethor’s autocratic style of government was such that there are few records of the whys and wherefores pertinent to the running of the city; that doomed Lord, a noted lore master and expert administrator, kept much necessary information in his head, not trusting even his own advisors. If he shared this information with his Heir it was lost when Lord Boromir fell.

The new Steward was never privy to his Father’s thoughts, indeed he seems to have been deliberately excluded where matters of state were concerned. That makes his task infinitely more difficult. The remaining few councillors from his Father’s retinue hold scant respect for their new Steward and waste no opportunity in exposing his lack of experience, ridiculing him at every turn, though in such a subtle and underhand manner that it has been very difficult for Estel to call them for their shameful actions. It amazes me that young Faramir tolerates their goading with such equanimity; he is a true diplomat, his countenance gives away little of what is in his heart or mind. I know that his manner and behaviour confound many, including Estel, he has a quiet dignity and an aura of composure that make it very hard to get close to him.

The young Steward works himself tirelessly and I am concerned for his welfare. Since he first came to my notice I have made it my business to observe him as he goes about his duties. He rises early and starts his day down at the barracks, taking a report from the duty Officer long before the other residents of the citadel have risen from their beds. I know from talking to his young squire Tamir, that his Lordship breaks his fast at the buttery before going to his chambers to prepare the necessary documentation for the morning’s council meeting. When the council adjourns he is swift to be about his business, whether that be supervising the distribution of rations, assessing the repair works, overseeing the lower courts and administering justice or fielding petitioners and deciding which matters he can deal with and what needs to be passed on to the King’s office for the Monarch’s attention.

If and when he has a free moment he too adjourns to the cool serenity of the archives and it is there that he seems to pass his only time in socialising. There is a small vestibule near the entrance to the archives that was until recently a small storage chamber. Tamir tells me that it was the Steward himself who arranged for it to be cleared out and transformed into a cosy reading room, with large plush armchairs, low bookshelves and handy side tables, cheerful rugs on the floor and bright wall hangings to soften the cold stone walls.. I was watching from a high gallery as the young steward showed his project to the one for whom it was intended. He led the Ringbearer into his cosy sanctuary and introduced him to the archivist. The smile on young Frodo’s face was enough to light up the room and it wasn’t long before all three were deep in conversation swapping stories and recommendations and sending the young apprentice hither and yon to collect the volumes they wished to share and discover. There was one other regular visitor to the reading room and that was young Sam, he never stayed long but he never failed to bring a tray of refreshments and snacks, checking that his beloved master was warm and settled before going back to his own tasks in the Queen’s garden.

Faramir’s sojourns into this peaceful oasis were all too infrequent and brief for my liking; he was working too hard and I knew the time would soon come when someone would need to intervene. I made it my business to wander past his chambers before retiring and it didn’t take my Elven hearing to detect that he and Tamir were still working late into the night. I wondered when he ever got the chance to eat for he seldom joined the King’s table, despite frequent invitations; again Tamir was my conduit for information, acknowledging that getting the Steward to eat even the food sent up on trays from the kitchen was a battle and that the Steward’s hounds were growing fat on their master’s leavings.

It was time to share my concerns with the others in our circle and I took the opportunity one evening after supper. I asked Estel, Elrond, Glorfindel, Prince Imrahil, Arwen and Legolas to join me and I laid out for them what I had observed. My revelations came as no surprise, all had witnessed all or some of the Steward’s behaviours and all were as concerned as I was. Only Imrahil seemed to be unsurprised, though he was mortified that his nephew had managed to hide his behaviour so successfully. We talked long into the night comparing ideas and suggestions as to how to proceed, for it was clear that it was necessary to proceed with caution; Faramir was a proud and private man, he had proven himself in battle and had recently demonstrated that he possessed keen and incisive skills as an administrator. But compared to those who cared about his welfare he was a mere babe-in-arms

But the skills and evasions he had learned as the Commander of the Rangers of Ithilien were serving him too well now. He was hiding. He was hiding his grief and his pain, burying them so deep that he was no longer conscious of their bite. I was not really sure that he even realised what he was doing to himself. But I did. I recognised a soul in torment, a soul drowning under the oppressive weight of his grief. And this poor mortal did not have the centuries to heal that had been granted to me in the midst of my torment, this frail human could not afford to wait for time to heal his pain, a pain that was multiplying with each passing day. Estel and prince Imrahil both offered to take the initiative but I knew deep down that this was my task, my responsibility. I knew that my time here in the city was short but I was sure that I could begin the process of bringing young Faramir back into the protective fold of the surrogate family who were so eager to welcome him.

I would begin the process, for the first steps would be the most difficult, and when my time here is done I will leave him in the loving and capable hands of Estel and Legolas and Prince Imrahil, for I know that they have the experience and expertise to carry forward what I plan to begin… to coax Faramir into accepting the care and attention he deserves and so desperately needs.

Now that I have decided to intervene it is as if he discerns my intention and seeks to evade my presence. Where before he kept himself to himself, now he seems to actually avoid any chance of interacting with me. I know that he is abroad within the city and yet I cannot seem to catch a private moment with him. It is almost as if some instinct warns him that I am close and he utilises all his Ranger stealth and knowledge of the secret ways of the city to leave me floundering in his wake. I have tried to waylay him at first light down at the barracks, at the buttery at break of fast and at the end of the King’s council sessions. He has even started to cancel his meetings with Frodo in the reading rooms, a fact which has caused the Ringbearer some concern.

Tamir too is absent from his usual duties and I am surprised to find that Faramir has seconded him back to the barracks to continue his military training. He is a good and loyal lad and yet I sense that he has his own concerns about his Commander’s behaviour. I watch the youngster on the archery field and only approach him when he is dismissed by the Master-at-Arms.

“Good day, Tamir, your skills are improving,” I comment, as he collects his arrows and refills his quiver.

“Thank you, my Lord. Lord’s Elrohir and Elladan were here earlier, they are very patient with our fledging skills.”

“They have had many years to hone their skills, they know how important it is to have skilled and patient tutors… I remember them both as Elflings with their first training bows. They both had their moments when they doubted that they would ever master them.” I reassure him.

“Was there something you needed, My Lord,” he asked.

“I have been trying to catch a few moments with Lord Faramir, I was hoping you could tell me when and where it is best to find him.”

“I don’t think he wants to be found, My Lord,” he commented and then realising what he has let slip his flushed brightly.

“What is going on, Tamir? There are many who are concerned about Lord Faramir; friends who would like to help him.”

“I know, Sir. But he will not be helped… I have tried… but I am just a cadet, he does not listen to me… It isn’t that I mind working for him, indeed it is an honour and a privilege but the hours he puts in are brutal, Sir, and I know that when he sends me off duty that he continues to work. I do not like to leave him, Sir but I do not have his stamina or fortitude… and now he no longer wants my services… I feel I have failed him, Sir.”

“No Tamir. You have done nothing to reproach yourself for. I fear Lord Faramir is greatly troubled by the many changes that have befallen him and he doing his best to deal with them… ”

“Then I fear he is failing, Sir,” he interrupted, heatedly. “ I may be young but even I recognise that he is in no state to even recognise what it is that he needs.”

“Fear not, Tamir. His plight has been recognised and I have been given leave by King Elessar and Prince Imrahil to try and address his problems.”

“I am greatly relieved to hear it, Sir. Perhaps he will listen to you!” he said hopefully, though with little real conviction.

“Can you suggest where I might best find him?” I asked.

“At this time he is usually in the archive with Lord Frodo” he suggested.

“I have tried there, Frodo has not seen him for several days and he has declined several invitations from Queen Arwen to dine with our company, always with a perfectly good reason but… ”

“Perhaps rather than invite, it would be better to call upon his sense of duty, Sir. If it were an official function he would be more likely to attend.

“Oh, I think he would still be reluctant,” I chuckle, “but it is a good idea, Tamir. He is ever punctilious about matters of duty and protocol,” I commented as I sent Tamir on his way with my thanks and returned to the Citadel.

After another dinner at which the Steward’s seat was glaring vacant I am finally losing patience. I again try his usual haunts but his chambers and offices are empty as is the reading room. The main Archives are in darkness and yet the door is ajar. I call softly but get no reply as I push open the door and make my way further into the musty depths of the large many-alcoved room. I do not need a lantern; my eyesight is good enough not to need artificial light as I wander further into the interior. The room is silent and yet I sense I am not alone.

Right at the back of the room in an alcove hidden from sight by the placement of high wooden shelves I find my quarry. His table is piled high with dusty rolls of parchment;

so full that some have fallen to the floor. Not that he is aware of this, the candle beside him has long since burned away and he is slumped over the table, his head pillowed on his arms. I call softly but he doesn’t stir even when I pick him up and carry him away to his room. He remains asleep as I ease him out of his boots and outer clothing and tuck him into bed. Once I am sure he is settled I send a page to summon Lord Elrond.

Elrond is quick to assure me that he is not ailing, he has no fever and a brief examination of his battle wounds shows that they are healing reasonably well. Indeed Lord Elrond’s main concern is his obvious exhaustion and loss of weight. When Elrond finally leaves to inform Estel of the night’s occurrences I pull over a chair and prepare to maintain my vigil until my reluctant charge awakes.

It is well past dawn when Faramir finally stirs. I watch in silence as he slowly takes notice of his surroundings and I see the slow dawning of comprehension as he realises that he is still half dressed and cannot remember how the last evening ended with him back in his own bed.

“Good morning, My Lord,” I greet him softly, not surprised when he jumps at my unexpected presence.

“Wha… ! Good Morning. What?... How?” His confusion is quite endearing. “What time is it?” he asks suddenly noticing that the morning is well advanced. “Excuse me, My Lord, but I must get down to the Barracks. I am terribly late and I must take the report before council… ” he tries to get out of bed. I gently push him back onto the pillow.

“Peace, Faramir. You are excused all duties today. His Majesty wishes you to rest.”

“But I cannot! I have too much to do. I cannot waste a day in bed.” He tries again to rise and becomes quite agitated to be again foiled in the attempt.

“Do you think it wise to flout the King’s instructions, Faramir?” I ask sternly.

“No… but you don’t understand. I am due in Council and I have an appointment with the Master Builder and I am due to preside over the Assizes. You must let me up, Sir.”

“No, Faramir. I too have my orders and I have given his Majesty my assurance that I will see to your welfare this day. Prince Legolas is attending the council, Lord Gimli is overseeing the meeting about the reconstruction and Lord Elrond is presiding over the assizes… your preparatory notes will be more than sufficient for them all to perform those tasks.”

“But they are my tasks… what will I do if you take all my responsibilities away from me. Is this the King’s way of showing me that I am failing in my job?”

“No of course not,” I assure him. “You have more than proven yourself in all aspects of your new duties. This is not about your competence, Faramir. But Estel is worried about you, as are we all, including your uncle. You have shut yourself away from everyone and it is not healthy.” He turned away from me and huddled on his side, tucked in tighter than a hedge-pig, so tight that I can barely hear his words.

“Please leave me My Lord.” His voice is quiet and devoid of all emotion. He shrugs off my hand. “Please just go.”

“I cannot do that, young one. I will not allow you to pull even further away from us.” I explain. There follows a long silence and I wonder just how long he intends to ignore my presence. I hear servants moving around in the outer chambers and I am grateful that either Elrond or Estel had the forethought to arrange it. After a few minutes a soft knock on the door heralds a young servant carrying a laden breakfast tray. She also announces that a bath has been drawn in the Steward’s bathing chamber.

“Come, Faramir,” I coax. “Eat this while it is hot.”

“I would rather bathe first,” he mutters petulantly.

“I would have you eat this before it spoils.” My sharp tone pulls his attention back to me and I see his internal battle as he tries to decide whether to push me further. Apparently not, he pounds his pillows into submission and takes the tray. The amount of food on the plate defeats him but he has eaten enough to allay my immediate concerns.

“May I bathe now!” I never thought to hear that particularly belligerent tone from him, but it is clear he is at the end of his tether and has no tolerance left for good manners.

“You may, but rest assured we will be having a sincere discussion about your behaviour and lack of manners when you are done with your ablutions,” I assure him.

“Forgive me, my Lord… forgive my rudeness… I’m sorry… !”

“I know you are, youngster. You are forgiven but do not think I can let this pass. Your behaviour and attitude need to be addresses before you do yourself serious harm.

“There is no need, My Lord. I will try harder… I will do better… ”

“Faramir, this is not about doing better or working harder… you are already trying too hard, doing too much and in the process you are wearing yourself into the ground. Do you think we are all unaware of how you seek to avoid our company? That we don’t see your pain and your grief?”

“NO! I will not discuss this, not now, not ever… dragging up the past will not undo all th-that is lost. It is the future that is important now. I will not… NO! I thank you for your concern, Sir, but I can assure you that it is misplaced. The best way you can help me is by letting me deal with this in my own way. There are others who would benefit from your care… I cannot allow you to waste your time on me.”

He was out of bed like a shot and had disappeared into the bathing chamber, locking the door after himself, before I could shake off my shock at his outburst. Now more than ever I wished to get him over my knee and paddle some sense into him. But I would wait and allow him some privacy to enjoy his bath in peace. If he thought I would get tired of waiting and go away he was very sadly mistaken. I munched absently on some fruit from his discarded breakfast tray as I plotted my strategy and waited for him to emerge . The servants entered and serviced the bedchamber; refreshing the linens, raking and replenishing the fire basket and silently withdrawing with the breakfast dishes.

Beyond the door all was quiet, I could no longer hear evidence of Faramir bathing, no splashing of water or sounds of him moving around; it occurred to me that he had probably fallen asleep in the tub and I set in to wait until the water cooled enough to wake him. I was just starting to become concerned when I heard movement beyond the door.

“Faramir,” I called, knocking sharply on the door to get his attention. I heard the bolt being drawn and stepped back as the door slowly swung open.

“I’m sorry, My Lord. Lord Faramir left a while ago,” the young servant informed me. “Did he not know you were waiting for him?” A quick scan of the bathing chamber proved that the servant spoke truly. The murky water in the tub was draining away and in a linen basket in the corner I could see the soiled clothing Faramir had discarded.

“Where does that door lead?” I asked, pointing to the corner of the room.

“To the service stairs, My Lord.”

“Do they extend beyond the Citadel?” I asked

“No Sir, they go up as far as the Royal apartments and down to the kitchen, laundry and Staff quarters.

Before going to inform Estel of what had happened I enquired of the duty Guard if Lord Faramir had been seen that morning. I instructed that if he appeared he was to be detained and escorted up to the Royal apartments.

I summoned the Twins and we began our own discrete search for our errant Steward.

An hour later we had made no progress and I co-opted Prince Imrahil to our search party, hoping that he might have some prior knowledge of his young nephew’s bolt-holes.

“Have you tried the tower?” he asked.

“You think that given his history he would risk going up into the lair of that accursed stone!”

“NO!... No, not the Tower of Ecthelion. No, I was referring to the Watch Tower, the one that stands against the mountain… the one before the beacon,” the Prince explained.

“Why there?” I asked.

“Beyond the guard post is a stairway that leads to an observation room. The boys used to spend a lot of time there as children watching the stars; there is an optical instrument there that allows one to see great distances in all directions and at night it can be turned to the heavens.”

“And you think he may have gone there?”

“We have tried everywhere else I can think of.”

“Come then, let us see if we can run him to ground.” Prince Imrahil led the way up the seemingly endless stairway until we reached the guard post. The three guards came to attention at our approach. ‘Busy here today’ I heard one of the soldiers mutter.

“Have you seen Lord Faramir?” Prince Imrahil demanded, his voice laboured with the effects of the long climb.

“Yes, Sir. He passed up to the observatory earlier. He instructed that he wasn’t to be disturbed, Sir.”

“I see. Is the tower locked?”

“No, Sir.”

“Then you will excuse us gentlemen. I have matters to discuss with Lord Faramir.”

“But our orders were not to let anyone through, Sir!”

“Fret not, we are here on the King’s instructions. We will make sure that Lord Faramir understands that we countermanded his order,” I assured them.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Sir… may I… ”

“What is it, Soldier?”

“I-it… it is just that… ” The three guards exchanged a silent communication between themselves. It was the oldest who, after a nod from his companions, explained.

“It is not my place to comment, so I hope you will forgive me for my words, Sir, but… well… I have known the Captain since he were just a nipper, Sir… and I know he has come to the tower in the past when things were difficult for him, when he was troubled… it earned him a beating or two in the past… ”

“And?” I urged.

“Well, is he in trouble, Sir? He’s a good, brave man and he deserves a little peace after all he’s been through.”

“Do you believe I mean him harm?” I asked. “Do you believe his uncle here or any in the King’s entourage wish him ill?”

“No, Sir! I know that Prince Imrahil has always been a true friend to his Lordship and I have heard nothing but good of the King… but I know little of your kind, Sir, save that the King is married to one of your kin.”

“I helped to raise the King from the time he came to us as a babe in arms. I can assure you I will treat Lord Faramir with the same care and compassion,” I promised.

“Then I am sure he is in safe hands, Sir.” The soldier saluted and held open the door for us to ascend the last leg of our journey to the highest point of the Citadel.

Gone was the brave warrior; gone, too, the noble courtier; the sight that greeted us as we emerged from the stairway into the observation tower was of a broken child. He didn’t move as we entered his sanctuary, he gave no sign that he had noticed his presence. He was slumped down against the curved wall of the circular chamber, his knees drawn up tightly against his chest, his arms curled over his head, hiding his face from our sight. He was absolutely still, only the slight rise and fall of his chest giving any indication that he was not some frozen statue.

Imrahil wordlessly sought my permission to take the initiative. I thought it best to accede to his wishes, knowing that his close bond with his nephew would be the best chance of soothing the distraught youngster. Imrahil crouched down next to Faramir, close but not yet touching him. I positioned myself on the other side of the Steward, though I kept a slightly greater distance, within arm’s reach but not risking crowding him.

“Faramir… Nephew… come, I would not have you hide away from me,” Imrahil whispered.

“If you have any love for me, Uncle, them I beg you to leave me!” His words were muffled and flat.

“I cannot do that, Faramir. Because I love you, I cannot leave you in such distress.”

“You are adding to my distress. For pity sake, leave me!”

“No!” Imrahil’s tone was sharp. “I have already left you too long, Faramir. I have failed you; I have failed the memory of my sister. You are my family, as dear to me as my own children and just as I feel my responsibility to keep them safe, the same applies to you,” he explained, tugging the huddled form towards him, overcoming the resistance until Faramir toppled into his arms.

“Please… pl-please,” we were none of us sure what he was asking for but at this point it didn’t matter. Imrahil shushed and coaxed him, accepting the tense shuddering form. The tears started then, or perhaps it is more accurate to say that they recommenced for as Faramir uncurled slightly it was clear that he had already shed many tears, his eyes and face swollen and red, his cheeks tracked with the rivulets of old grief.

I moved closer and added my hands and voice to those of Imrahil in an attempt to comfort the grief ravaged Steward. We stayed there for hours until Faramir’s distress finally exhausted him and his hitched sobs were finally silenced by sleep.

“You seem to have provoked quite a reaction, my friend,” Imrahil whispered to me as we watched the youngster sleeping.

“I have not finished yet,” I promised him. “I may have lanced that pain-filled boil but there is yet much poison to release. He has at least acknowledged his grief but he will not begin to heal until he has brought it out into the open and recognised that there are those here who would help him to heal.”

“He will resist you, My Lord; his reticence has been a lifetime in the making, the result of losses too many and painful to comprehend… !”

“I know of losses, my friend. I was fortunate in my grief to have loyal and steadfast friends to help me to heal. I will not allow Faramir to suffer alone for a moment longer… I will see him on the path to recovery.”

“And how do you propose to do that?”

“By forcing him to face what he has been hiding from for so long!”

“So what now?” the Prince asked gazing with affection at his sleeping nephew.

“Well, we can do nothing here, and he is in no condition for me to begin. We will take him back and let him rest. I will begin tomorrow.”

I carried Faramir down the long winding staircase and out into the courtyard. To Imrahil’s obvious surprise I didn’t take Faramir back to his own chamber but carried on down to the sixth level and into the houses of healing. The immediate fluster at our arrival was soon stilled. I carried Faramir to one of the large private rooms at the rear of the Houses, well away from the public wards. Imrahil and I tended to the sleeping Steward, removing his clothes and dressing him in a knee-length open backed gown before tucking him under the covers. Before leaving I sent word for Tamir to attend to his captain and also ordered a guard to be placed just beyond the door. When I was sure that all was in place and that those attending Faramir knew their duties I ushered Imrahil back up to the Citadel for supper.

I could hear the raised voices as soon as I stepped across the threshold of the Healing Houses. I made my way quickly to where I was sure the noise originated. I was not mistaken. At the door of Faramir’s chamber I came across Tamir and the guard both engaged in trying to restrain a very irate, very vocal Steward. It was as I suspected, Faramir was taking a violent objection to his enforced confinement. I hid my smile as I approached.

“What appears to be the problem here?” I asked, my arms folded over my chest in a manner that would have had many an Elfling quaking in their boots. “Tamir?”

“I’m afraid Lord Faramir is not happy to stay here, My Lord.”

“Then Lord Faramir is going to be unhappy for a deal longer as he is going to be here for several days!” I explained to Tamir, totally ignoring Faramir’s outraged bellow.

“Tamir, you will fetch me some clothes, NOW! And you,” he said, addressing the guard, “I am ordering you to return to the barracks,” he barked.

The young Guard was obviously uncomfortable at finding himself in the middle of this altercation “Forgive me, My Lord, but I’m afraid my orders were sanctioned by the King,” the man said firmly though with a degree of discomfort.

Faramir’s anger washed away, knowing he had been outflanked by a higher authority. I smiled my thanks to the Guard and once more turned my attention to Tamir.

“Has Lord Faramir broken his fast?” I asked.

“I brought him a tray earlier but I’m afraid… well, it wasn’t eaten, Sir.”

“And why was that?” I asked, sensing a story.

“The tray was upturned, Sir.”

“Oh!” I said, glancing at Faramir who was squirming uncomfortably. “And how was that?” I asked, glancing into the room to see the wreckage of the meal smeared down the inside of the door. “Faramir, would you like to explain?”

“No, I wouldn’t.” He was rapidly sinking into infantile petulance. I allowed myself another smile; this was going better than I had hoped. I sent the guard back to his post and asked Tamir to request another breakfast tray. I turned Faramir and firmly escorted him back into his chamber.

“Just who gave you the authority to order me and my staff around?” he thundered when we were alone.

I ignored his aggressive tone and manner and took a seat in one of the armchairs by the hearth. “Your behaviour is unseemly, Sir, it would behove you to remember your position.” I informed him calmly.

“MY Position! I will not stand for this a moment longer.”

“Very wise, one in your condition should not stand when there is a comfortable chair to hand,” I agreed, deliberately misunderstanding his comment. A water jug flew past my ear and crashed against the wall; I brushed some shards of pottery from my robes. “Your tally of misdemeanours is growing ever longer, my Lord. I would advise you to exercise caution.”

“Or what!”

Again I ignored his comment. “Sit down, Faramir and allow me to explain exactly what is happening here.”

“I can see what is happening. You have kidnapped me, you have usurped my position and authority, you are keeping me here against my will and you have humiliated me in front of my subordinates.”

“That is one way of looking at it, to be sure. I, however, prefer to consider that your friends have decided to take action to prevent you committing more harm against your person; it is clear that you are not taking care of even your basic health needs; you are working too hard, you are not eating, you are not sleeping, you refuse the help and guidance of those who would assist you and you deliberately avoid the company of those who would call upon you to answer for your behaviour. So, in your best interests, for the time being we have taken all decisions from you.”

“You cannot do that!”

“It is already done, Faramir. You will remain in this chamber until you are given permission to leave. You will eat all of the meals sent up for you and you will take the potions that the Healer’s provide. Providing they don’t interfere with your rest, you may have visitors and you may ask Tamir to fetch any books you require from your chambers. You will not attempt to leave, nor will you undermine the orders of the Staff. You may sit out on the balcony but not unaccompanied,” I informed him.

“You expect total submission to these humiliations!”

“Yes, Faramir, I do. These conditions have been agreed and sanctioned by his Majesty. None of us seek to humiliate or belittle you but your behaviour and attitude of late has left us with little option but to take such draconian measures. I would have your word, now, that you agree to abide by these conditions.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then you will forfeit the right to privacy. The guard will take up post inside the room and will only leave when either your uncle or I am present,” I informed him, sternly

“Very well, I give you my word though I do so under protest.”

“A wise decision, youngster.”

“Could I at least have my own clothes? This gown is indecent,” he complained

“You are perfectly well attired, though as you have agreed to co-operate with us, I will ask Tamir to fetch one of your own nightshirts.”

“And a robe?”

“Do not push your luck, child. This room is quite warm enough and in your nightshirt you will be less tempted to repeat yesterday’s escape attempt. Now, if you will excuse me I have to report back to his Majesty. Tamir will be along shortly with your meal, I suggest you relax and make the most of your sojourn. I will return this evening to share supper with you and we will then address your recent behaviour.”

“I would rather dine in private, Sir.”

“No doubt, but that is not your decision to make.”

“Good evening Faramir,” I greeted, following a servant into the chamber. The servant set out the full dishes and crockery onto the table. I dismissed her and relieved the Guard of his duties until further notice.

“Come, Faramir, the cooks have sent up all your favourite dishes. Do not allow their efforts to go cold.”

“I have been fed every two hours all day, I am really not hungry.” I didn’t reply but my expression seemed to have the necessary effect and he joined me at the table without further comment. He didn’t eat as much as I would have liked but I realised that to push him at this point would be counter-productive.

“Have you managed to get any rest?”

“Given that the Healer has been sedating me every few hours I have had little choice!”

“I think, if you ask him, the Warden will confirm that what he has been prescribing is not a sleeping draught but a tonic to help you to relax. The fact that you have been sleeping a lot is purely your body reacting normally to your obvious exhaustion. You have ignored the signals your body has been sending for so long that you no longer recognise your own needs.”

“I have been doing my duty! My own needs are not important.”

“That is where you are wrong, child. Your own needs are of paramount importance, as I am about to prove to you.”

“What do you mean?” He shot up and placed himself behind his chair, seeking the illusion of safety behind the flimsy protection of the furniture. I took a seat on the bed and with a crook of my finger I beckoned him towards me.

“Faramir, I am about to prove to you just how important your welfare is. Before I have finished here you will be in no doubt of the regard in which you are held by me and all of those who care about you.”

“NO!”

“Faramir, as I explained before, you have no option. This is going to happen; the only matter for you to decide is if you are going to submit to this willingly or if you are going to fight me, either way I am happy to oblige you.”

“Please do not do this.”

“I must, Faramir.”

“There must be another way; can we not discuss this calmly.”

“The time for talking is past, Faramir. You have avoided all attempts to discuss our concerns. Now I am going to apply a more direct approach.”

“You intend to thrash me?”

“NO Faramir, I intend to spank you. No one will ever thrash you again, not while you are under Estel’s protection. I have seen your scars and I promise you now that no one will treat you so cruelly ever again.” He was still huddled behind his chair, his arms wrapped around his waist, his whole manner cowed. I could leave him in distress no longer. I wrapped my arm around his shoulder and led him over to the bed. Before he could react I had him positioned over my lap, his chest and legs supported by the mattress.

As I flipped up hi nightshirt he exploded into action, desperately trying to get away from me. I tightened my grip on his waist and restrained his hands at the small of his back. “Peace, Faramir, settle down now, we will be here for a while and you will merely exhaust yourself.”

“Release me… GUARD… guard!”

“Faramir, the Guard has gone to have his supper. . besides, do you really want to be seen in this position?”

“Let me GO!”

“Tut, tut, Faramir. What have I told you about what is happening here?”

“That I have no choice! You are a bully, Sir. Your conduct is dishonourable.”

“No Faramir, it would be dishonourable of me to ignore your needs.”

“My needs do not require you to treat me in such a manner.”

“I beg to differ, youngster, and at this moment I have the upper hand,” I said, bringing my hand down sharply on his pale buttocks. He managed to choke back any reaction beyond a sharp intake of breath. I had to admire his stoicism but I was not about to allow his stubbornness to win out here. I began to apply myself with controlled enthusiasm, my hand ranging over ever inch of his exposed buttocks and thighs.

“Do not resist this, Faramir, my hand can outlast your stubbornness, I have had many millennia to hone my expertise, and should my right hand tire I can quite easily swing you around and start again with my left.” Finally, finally as I was beginning to worry about the state of his bottom I heard his first sob, quickly followed by many more as he collapsed in defeat.

I slowed and lightened my swats. “Now we will talk, Faramir,” I informed him, releasing his hands and massaging the tension from his neck and shoulders.

“What would you have me say, Sir?” he sniffed.

“Tell me of your Father, Faramir. Tell me why you think your needs are not important.”

“Please do not ask me that, Sir. Do not make me catalogue my weakness.”

“You are not weak, Faramir. You have proved yourself time and time again both on the battle field and in the Council chamber. You are loved and respected by all who know you; you must put your father’s taunts out of your mind. That poor deluded man is dead; you must not allow him to continue to hurt you from beyond the veil.”

“He tried to kill me!” he wailed.

“He did, but he was tying to save you from a worse fate; via that cursed stone, Sauron taunted him with your fate at the hands of his minions. He thought he was protecting you from torment.”

“He wanted me dead.”

“He loved you… at the end he realised it.”

“I only ever wanted his love, his respect. I knew I would never measure up to Boromir in his eyes; I just wanted to be noticed for myself.”

“It was his folly that he couldn’t do so but we see your worth, Faramir. You no longer have to prove yourself. We love and respect you for who you are, our stubborn, wilful, kind, compassionate Steward. You must make your peace with that because there is a long line of people who will be quite happy to prove their devotion to you in just this manner!” I assured him with a flurry of harder spanks that made him howl.

I knew I had taken him as far as I dared. I scooped him up into my arms and held him as he sobbed. I didn’t try to halt his tears, he needed this release and I was happy to have him safe with me.

“Faramir!” I said when he finally calmed a little and lay limp in my embrace. “Faramir, you have done well, I am so proud of you. But I think you know that there is much yet that we need to address.”

“Pl-pl-please! No more, Sir, I beg you,” he whimpered, trying to struggle from my grasp.

“No! Peace, little one, no more now. We have many evenings in which to deal with these other matters.”

“You don’t mean to… ?”

“Yes, Faramir, I do. Tomorrow night and every night until you are released from this place I will be here after supper to help you to face all the demons that haunt you.”

“But… but, please, Sir, I cannot bear any more.”

“You will have to bear it, Faramir. You will trust me to know what you can bear. You have twenty four hours in which to rest and recuperate and then after supper you will again go over my knee and we will battle those demons together. I will not allow them to fester a moment longer.”

“Why are you doing this, My Lord? What have I done to deserve this?”

“I know of the grief that haunts you, Faramir. I have had to deal with such griefs in my own past. I know how awful that hurt is. I was lucky enough to have friends to help me face up to my grief and my losses; I can do no less for you.”

“You do this because you care about me?” he asked with bemusement.

“Yes, Faramir, I do this because I care about you; human lives are too brief to waste a single day in needless distress.” He wept then, silent healing tears that soaked into the sleeve of my robes. When he finally succumbed to sleep I eased him into bed and pulled the covers up over his shoulders.

The gentle tapping on the door didn’t disturb his exhausted slumber. Lord Elrond and Estel stole in on silent feet.

“He survived your attentions, then?” Elrond asked with a grin.

“I have made a start. He knows that I intend to continue these lessons for as long as necessary.”

“I’m sure he was delighted at the prospect!”

“As were other youngsters in the past, Estel!” I said, causing the new King of men to blush.

“Aye, my dear Lord Erestor, in time he will come to appreciate your attentions as I did in the past… For his sake I hope he learns more quickly than I did! I need my Steward back. I need my friend, Faramir at my side.”

“We will see him back where he belongs, Estel… but do not expect any overnight miracles… he is more stubborn than even you were.

“What will I do without you?” he said sadly, hugging us both.

“You will remember our lessons and remember the love and care you have always enjoyed and you will share that knowledge with those under your care… I just hope your palm is up to the task!” I joke as I usher them from the room and take a seat to begin another night’s vigil.

The End

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