"Yet between the brothers there was great love, and had been since childhood, when Boromir was the helper and protector of Faramir."
[from Appendix A; The Stewards, in: The Lord of the Rings]

Home » Fiction

Seeking (G) Print

Written by Shireling

27 June 2005 | 45981 words

[ all pages ]

Chapter 11 >

Even with all the extra help from my Ada, Prince Imrahil and Arwen there was no denying that I was sorely missing the quiet efficiency of my Steward. His well trained and highly competent staff were doing all they could to contain and process the mountain of paperwork that seemed to proliferate but there was much that they couldn’t deal with and I had ordered that those matters be passed on to my office

I was torn; the healer in me wanting to allow him all the time he needed to recover physically and emotionally and the overburdened and overwhelmed King who, perhaps selfishly, wanted to be rescued from the added weight and pressure of these extra duties. And it wasn’t just his administrative efficiency I was missing; I also missed his advice and his council. In a short time I had come to depend on his insight and his perceptive, quiet intelligence to help guide me through the labyrinth of practice and protocol, his unique understanding and intuitive perceptions essential to the smooth ordering of day to day Court life.

I was rescued from my melancholic and highly inefficient paper shuffling by a knock at the door that heralded the arrival of Legolas.

“Estel, I have just had word that Captain Beregond has arrived at the main garrison; I understand you sent for him!” Legolas exclaimed, sweeping aside a pile of papers and setting a mug of hot tea before me. I nodded my apreciation, thankful for the interruption and the refreshment.

“I take it you have rescinded his order of banishment? He did not come under guard!” I could tell Legolas was bursting with a desire to know what I was about but I was in no hurry to inform him.

“Ay… he his here under orders. He will return to Ithilien as soon as I have completed my business with him,” I said with an expression that I knew would only inflame his curiosity.

“How is Faramir this morning?” I asked, changing the subject and smiling at his pout.

“He seems much better. He slept well and he asked to have some time alone. I thought it best to accede to his wishes… .Prince Imrahil has arranged to take lunch with him.”

“That is good. I will ask Beregond to visit with him later, I’m sure they will have much to talk about… .!” I said with a wink.

“Estel… what are you planning! I don’t like that expression… it doesn’t bode well for someone!”

“A test… and possibly a demonstration of consequences!” I explained, smiling at the sudden flare of understanding that flashed across his face.

Legolas was clearly outraged “You are setting him up! After all he has been through! Estel… why?”

“I am not ‘setting him up’, my dear, protective little Elf! Though I believe he may well set himself up! He may not do as I expect… though I would be surprised,” I explained gently. “He needs to understand that we will be watching him and will hold him to account for his action and we still need to convince him that he is worthy and deserving of our friendship… so far we have only dealt with his grief over Boromir! There are still issues that need to be addressed: he still carries a huge burden of guilt that is eating away at him, he still has not faced up to the losses of his comrades or the actions of his Father!”

“Estel! Is he up to such a lesson? I-I know that what you say is true and part of me wants to deal with it all as soon as possible… but is he up to it at the moment?”

“Trust that you and I will see him through this, my Friend!” I said, halting his agitated pacing by pulling him into a brief hug. “We will not be harsh! We will be supportive and firm and loving. We will help him to exorcise his demons so that he may begin to truly heal. He needs us to be strong for him; we will do him no favours by shirking from these responsibilities!”

“I know… I do know, it’s just… !”

“You want to protect him?” I smiled.

“Yes!” he whispered.

“As do I and that is what we are doing, Legolas. We are protecting him from himself.”

I should not tease my dear Elf but it helps sometimes to ease the tension and I know that he takes it in good part. He is confident of my affection and he knows that when I plague him I do so out of affection. I have known him all my life, he was a regular and much admired visitor during my childhood and during my youth it was to him I turned for guidance and instruction when I struggled to achieve the impossible standards I set myself in trying to match the skills of the Elves who were my teachers and my surrogate family.

That is why I now have such confidence in him to help to guide Faramir. He has been down this road before; helping me, guiding me, caring for and correcting me with his unstinting patience and unfailing compassion. I know that he will help Faramir because of all that he is… my dear, incomparable Elf.

But I can still tease him and smile when he pouts at my beleaguering!

As when we traversed the corridors towards Faramir’s chambers I could sense his frustration that he knew not what plan I had set in motion; I could tell that he was biting his lip to prevent the question bursting forth, a question I would not answer until it suited me.

It came as no great surprise to me that we found Faramir’s chambers to be empty when we arrived and I saw the first hint of comprehension sweep over fair Elven features.

“Estel?” he asked tentatively, “did you, by any chance, rescind your orders to Faramir!” he asked hesitantly. I answered with a wink.

“You knew! Didn’t you? You knew he would not be here! Oh, he is so like you!”

“I will take that as a compliment… I think! I suspected he would not be able to resist the temptation to plunge himself back into his duties,” I explained.

“So is that why you sent for Beregond… to tempt him into disobedience. That is hardly fair, Estel!”

“I didn’t tempt him to disobedience… he could and should have stayed in his room and had the social visit with Beregond. It was his choice to go against my specific orders, Legolas, and besides, I wanted Beregond here for a more specific reason,” I explained, struggling to balance my feelings of disappointment that Faramir had disobeyed me with the satisfaction of knowing that he had left the door open for me to proceed with my intention.

“And that was what?” I tapped the side of my nose and winked, eliciting another impressive pout from my Elven companion.

We followed the murmur of voices and found ourselves at the entrance to a small conference room. From the doorway we saw the two men poised over a large map, conferring together and consulting a long roll of parchment before moving tokens to new positions on the map.

Beregond was the first to register our presence and he drew slowly to attention and made to alert Faramir but I halted his action with a wave. Faramir had his back to the door and it was probably the sudden heavy silence or the lack of response from his Captain that finally alerted him to the fact that they were no longer alone. He straightened up slowly and almost hesitantly turned to the doorway, following Beregond’s frozen expression, to find Legolas and me in almost identical poses, arms folded, leaning against the door jam, stern predatory expressions on our faces. Faramir flushed and then paled, dropping to sit in the chair behind him as the silence lengthened.

“Sire! I… um… we were just… “

“Good afternoon gentlemen. I hope we are not interrupting anything vital?” I asked moving forward to examine the map.

“Er… No, Sire. Captain Beregond and I were just discussing troop deployments!” Faramir explained, getting to his feet and indicating the parchment that had fluttered to the table.

“I see! At ease, Captain Beregond. This was not quite the social visit I anticipated when I gave you permission to visit my Steward.”

“Forgive me, Sire. I was keen to discuss some matters with Lord Faramir… I hope I haven’t erred here, Sire?” he muttered, casting an apologetic grimace at Faramir, who had at least regained some colour and a measure of composure.

“Worry not, Beregond. I hold you blameless. It is not you who has erred here,” I explained, pinning Faramir with a frown. “Lord Faramir was under orders to remain resting in his chambers and not to involve himself in any duties until given permission!”

“But, Sire… !”

“You wish to add something, my Lord Steward?”

“Only that I am quite well now, Sire… I saw no harm in consulting with my senior Captain while I had the opportunity.” I saw Legolas grimace at his words and could see he wanted to say something to prevent Faramir digging himself any deeper into trouble. I waved him to silence.

“I see, Faramir! So orders are to be obeyed only when it suits you? A novel approach from my Captain General. How do you propose to prevent the anarchy that will result when the rest of your troops adopt the same principle?”

“… “

“Were my orders clear, Faramir?”

“Yes, Sire,” he muttered unhappily.

“Did you not think it wise to consult with me before seeking to resume your duties?”

“I didn’t think it necessary, Sire. I am recovered… there is no need for me to remain confined to my chambers!” he bristled.

“So you are a healer as well, now?” I questioned, amazed at his tone.

“No, Sire. But I think you should trust me to know what I am capable of. I am not a child and I resent being treated like one!”

“Then I suggest you stop behaving like one. Not two days ago you were barely capable of standing, having driven yourself to the point of collapse, and yet you still expect me to trust your judgement on what you are and are not capable of! Please excuse me if I am less than enthusiastic in acceding to your demands!” I said firmly

“But, Sire… !”

“But nothing, Faramir. Orders are Orders and failure to heed your responsibilities carries consequences.” He shifted uncomfortably as my words hung in the air.

“I apologise, Sire. It was wrong of me to disregard your orders. What would you have me do?”

“I accept you apology and we will deal with the consequences in a moment. There is something else I need to bring to your attention while Captain Beregond is still with us,” I explained, turning my attention to Beregond.

“Captain Beregond. Have you informed Lord Faramir of your new orders?”

“New orders! WHAT new orders! Why was I not consulted about this?” Faramir demanded, causing Legolas and Beregond to wince. I ignored his outburst and kept my attention on the extremely discomforted Captain.

“Well, Captain?” I questioned.

“No, Sire. I have not yet had the opportunity… .I thought it might come better from you, Sire.”

“Hm, did you indeed. Well perhaps now would be a good opportunity… Go ahead Beregond, I can see that Lord Faramir is bursting to know of your new duties!” Legolas was now beside Faramir trying to quell any further ill-advised outburst. Faramir was bristling with barely suppressed agitation, his gaze shooting between the three of us.

“Would someone kindly inform me of what is going on here!” he demanded, no longer able to contain his impatience.

“Beregond! If you please.”

“Yes, Sire,” the unhappy man replied. “My orders are that until further notice, in the absence of yourself or Prince Legolas I am to assume disciplinary jurisdiction with regards to Lord Faramir.” Faramir’s shocked response was immediate and loudly vocal. Legolas was also momentarily stunned before he turned to me with a slow and knowing grin.

“That is preposterous,” Faramir thundered. “I refuse to agree to this. Beregond is a friend and a subordinate; it would be unseemly to expect him to take on such a role. No, Sire… No… I will never agree to submit to such an outrageous suggestion!” Faramir in a fury was really quite an impressive sight, his eyes flashed fire and his whole stance was one of coiled and barely suppressed power.

Before I could formulate a response to this outburst, Legolas had rounded on Faramir, taking hold of his shoulders and engaging his attention.

“Unless you would like to experience Beregond’s disciplinary prowess here and now I suggest you calm down and take a deep breath. The only person whose behaviour is unseemly is yours, little Ranger, so settle down. You are in no position to decide what is in your own best interests. Trust that those who care for you have only your best interests at heart. Beregond has proven beyond doubt that he cares for you and he will take on any responsibilities that he and we deem to be appropriate.”

My fair Prince’s admonition had the desired effect and Faramir settled back into sulky compliance. “Forgive me, Sire, Beregond. I-I do not doubt that you have my best interests in mind… but-but is this really necessary. I give you my word that I will heed your orders and advice in future… can you not trust me to do what is right,” he pleaded. I didn’t answer; just raised an eyebrow in what I hoped was a fair imitation of my Ada, until he looked away in defeat.

“Come Legolas,” I called. “We will leave these two to say their farewells. Beregond, you will find a billet for the night in the barracks, unless you wish to stay with friends in the city; your escort will be ready to leave at first light. Be sure to send word if you encounter any difficulties.”

“Yes, Sire. Thank you, Sire.”

I ushered Legolas from the room. “Faramir, I would see you in your chambers in five minutes,” I instructed as we left. Faramir nodded, clearly unhappy and wishing himself anywhere but here.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Beregond?” Legolas queried as soon as we were out of earshot.

“I wanted to see the look on your face!” I teased.

“Faramir is not done with this; he will resist, Estel!”

“I know that it will be difficult for him to submit to Beregond’s care, just as he will find it difficult when he must face your disciplinary attentions, Legolas, but we will guide him through that barrier together.” I explained gently.

Estel?….Are you sure Beregond is up to the task?” The hesitancy in his question tugged at my heartstrings. He was seeking reassurance that Beregond could be trusted to handle this matter with sensitivity and understanding.

“I have discussed it with him at length,” I assured him. “Beregond has a son of his own; he is used to handling discipline in a loving and supportive manner. More importantly he holds Faramir in high regard and respect, though he is not blind to his faults. He has my confidence, Legolas, so do not fret; Faramir will be in safe hands, even when he is away from our direct care.”

Faramir sidled into his chambers a few minutes later and closed the door, leaning back against the solid surface, his hands unconsciously reaching back to protect his backside. I had taken a seat on an upright chair in the centre of the room and I beckoned him over to me.

“Come Faramir; let us deal with this matter now so that it will no longer have the power to oppress you. Let us deal with your careless disregard for the orders put in place to protect you.”

This was a serious infraction and Faramir can have been in no doubt that he would be called to account for his actions. It had been a small matter of defiance, a testing of boundaries, but it was important that we established at this very early stage that all incidents of insubordination or reckless disregard for his own safety would be dealt with swiftly and fairly; that his safety and well being were of paramount importance to us. I have no doubt that he would not have tested his father in this manner, knowing what the reaction would have been but we were still charting new territory and he needed the security afforded by our firm but supportive attentions.

I kept my hand extended towards him in encouragement but I wanted him to make that endless walk of but a few steps on his own; to acknowledge that he was placing himself into my care. For many moments he stared at my hand, immobilised, frozen as though puzzled by what was required of him.

“Come, my brave Steward,” I urged softly.

“Sire,… .please!” he begged, a whispered plea that confirmed to me that I was asking too much of him. I kept my seat but with a nod to Legolas I begged his assistance.

Legolas moved slowly and calmly to Faramir stopping when he stood close enough to pull the hesitant and frightened youngster into his arms.

“Come, little Ranger, you are quite safe. Let us get this matter dealt with.”

“Legolas… I-I don’t want to b-be spanked. I cannot bear it… it is too much… pl-please can we not go back to what I am familiar with… please!” He was still being held by Legolas but his fearful gaze was on me. I could keep my place no longer; I joined them by the door and circled them both with my arms.

“Shush, Faramir. I know what it is you fear and why you shy away from the thought of my attentions. A spanking is so much more personal, so much more intimate, isn’t it? There is no possibility of distancing yourself from what is happening, no possibility of locking away your feelings and your fears. I can see you, feel your reactions, demand that you stay focussed on what is happening to you! And that is the very reason why it is so important! I will NEVER beat you or thrash you, Faramir, nor will I allow anyone else to treat you in that manner. The only thing I will ever strike you with will be the flat of my hand. When you err, when you need to be held to account for your actions, you will go over my knee and be spanked; you will be spanked in the knowledge that you are loved and cherished and that those who care for you will not leave you to suffer the burden of guilt or grief.” I explained. “Do you understand, Faramir?”

“Yes, Sire, I understand… but I still don’t want to be spanked,” he muttered, though he did manage a small grin.

“Faramir, take it from someone who has been in your position more times than you can count, no one in their right mind ‘wants’ to be spanked but sometimes you just have to bow to the inevitable,” Legolas chided, his voice full of compassion and understanding, as he lead Faramir to where I had re-seated myself.

The fact that Faramir had dressed for his meeting with Beregond meant that we now had to deal with the extra layers of clothing. He stood motionless as I untucked the tails of his tunic and blushed hotly as I indicated that he should release the ties of his britches.

“Sire… pl-please!” he whispered, squirming with mortification. I could see that this issue of disrobing was difficult for him and I had no wish to embarrass him further.

“Just loosen them, Faramir. I will deal with them when you are in place,” I reassured him, guiding him down and helping him to adjust to his position until he was settled. “Don’t fret, Faramir, we have been here before and you survived the experience… all will be well.”

Using a chair rather than a sofa or the bed from which to administer this spanking put Faramir at a disadvantage, but I felt there should be a notion of consequences for the fact that he had got dressed and had left his chambers against orders. Although he would be safely and securely held he would undoubtedly feel more insecure. His height and length of limb would ensure that he could ground himself with both his hands and feet to the floor, although he chose to curl one arm around my knee and grasp the stretcher bar of the chair.

I flicked up the tails of his tunic and took a firm grasp around his waist, pulling him tightly against my body, to anchor him to me physically and emotionally. By hooking my fingers into the loosened waistband of his britches and lifting his hips I bared his bottom, acutely conscious of his shudder at being exposed, every muscle in his body tensing in anticipation of the coming chastisement. I took a moment to examine the exposed buttocks, the skin was pale and unmarked from his previous spanking, though I have no doubt that it would take only a few swats to reignite the fire.

“Are you ready, Faramir?” I asked, resting my hand on his bottom in preparation for the first swat.

“Yes, Sire.”

There would be no easing him into this spanking as I had done the first time he went over my lap. My first swat was sincere in intent and application; he arched up and yelped, shocked at the immediate fire that shot through his system.

“Easy, Faramir,” I soothed, setting up a steady and purposeful rhythm. I have been told I am a methodical spanker but I like to ensure that I bless all areas of the bottom under my hand with equal attention. It did not take long to warm the skin from white, to pink, to a healthy red glow.

I kept my pace steady, neither speeding nor slowing; a reassuring constant. Faramir had not uttered a sound since my first swat, no doubt convinced that he could retain his composure in the face of this spanking, I was about to disabuse him of that notion!

“Tell me, Faramir. Why are you being spanked?” I asked.


There is something impressive and majestic about watching Estel in action and it has nothing to do with his newly crowned status; he exudes an air of awesome but controlled power.

I could not help but wince in sympathy for Faramir; this was certainly no token spanking. From the first swat Estel established a sincere and insistent rhythm, a regular pattern of six swats to cover each area in turn, quickly painting a colourful rosy glow over the exposed skin.

After an initial yelp at the first swat, Faramir maintained a determined silence, though I could see that he was unable to still his desperate, unconscious wriggling to try to evade the unrelenting attentions of Estel’s hand.

His silence worried me and a glance at Estel confirmed that he shared my concern and I knew that he would not allow it to continue. I knelt at the side of Estel’s chair where I could reach out to support Faramir. His face was hidden behind a curtain of hair and in order to see him better I tucked the wayward locks behind his ear and turned his face towards me, persisting when he tried to resist the pressure of my palm. His cheeks were wet and at my touch he let out his first low sob.

As Estel continued his ministrations I lifted Faramir’s shoulders until he could rest his head on my shoulder and I shared a smile with Estel as Faramir released his desperate grip on the chair and his arms snaked around me, his hands grasping handfuls of my tunic.

“Easy, Faramir!” I whispered. “Do not hide your pain from us; we both know that a spanking hurts. It is alright to release your tears.” I continued to whisper a constant stream of reassurance, only going silent when Estel started to speak.

“Tell me, Faramir, why are you being spanked?” Estel’s question was punctuated with the steady regular fall of his hand.

He received no answer but Estel is endlessly calm, endlessly patient and he simply asked again.

“Tell me my brave and mutinous Steward, why are you being spanked?”

Faramir arched up, gasping a breath before answering. “Because I-I disobeyed… orders, Sire!”

“Yes you did. You disobeyed my orders! Can I allow you to disobey me, Faramir? Are you allowed to disobey orders put in place to protect you?”

“Noooo… No, not al-allowed!”

“And what happens to insubordinate Ranger’s who flout my orders?”

“Pun-punished, Sire!”

“Very good, Faramir. Yes, they are punished. Tell us, Faramir, how will my wayward Steward be punished for such ill-advised and reckless insubordination?” Estel questioned.

Faramir was sobbing against my shoulder, his legs kicking with each swat of Estel’s hand. I knew that he was nearly done, that he had taken Faramir as far as he wished to push him.

“Answer me, Faramir. How will you be punished?” Estel insisted.

“Sp… sp..spanked, Sire! I will be spanked!” He collapsed against me, all resistance spent.

“Yes, Faramir, good, very good. All done now, all finished,” Estel crooned tenderly. “You have apologised for your ill-considered action and have accepted the consequences. All is now forgiven, my friend,” Estel soothed, his hands now petting and massaging up and down Faramir’s spine as he continued to sob.

As Faramir calmed I was surprised that Estel did not scoop him up into his arms to comfort him, instead leaving him in place over his lap, still supported against my shoulder. Estel clearly still has issues to discuss and he wanted Faramir stretched out over him as he did it. He did however pull Faramir’s tunic down to cover his exposed and lividly red bottom.

“Faramir,” he asked, “do you know why it is so important to me that we handle matters of discipline in this manner?”

“Because it is your duty, Sire!” he answered, his voice rough and strained.

“Oh, Faramir! We still have such a long way to go, don’t we?” Estel sighed with fond exasperation, patting the scorched buttocks and making Faramir arch up at the touch.

“I think that was the wrong answer, little Ranger!” I whispered.

“Faramir, do you remember me telling you about Boromir’s last few minutes, after I found him following the battle?” Estel queried

“Yes-s, Sire.”

“Do you remember his words to me; do you remember me telling you what he said to me?”

“Yes, Sire. He recognised you his King, his Captain, called you his… .his brother!” This outburst brought forth another fall of tears from the youngster.

“Yes, Faramir he claimed me as his brother and that meant more to me than I can describe. Boromir redeemed his honour in defending two helpless Halflings and with his last breath he claimed for me a place within his family,” Estel explained. Faramir had stilled, his attention captivated by the tale that Estel was painting.

“You see, Faramir, he did more than claim me, he entrusted me with the care of someone he held precious above all others. You were never just a duty to me, Faramir; even before I met you, before I came to honour and respect you for the brave and gentle soul that you are, before all that I loved you as the brother of my brother Boromir. You are stuck with me, Faramir; all my life I have been nurtured and supported by an extensive and disparate surrogate family; you are now an honoured member of that family and I could no sooner abandon or reject my responsibility to you than I could to Legolas or the twins or Lord Elrond or any of the noble individuals I hold dear.”

Estel dashed a hand across his face and lowered his legs, lifting Faramir to his feet as he stood and pulled the still sobbing ranger into his embrace. They stood locked together until Faramir had calmed.

“One day soon, Faramir, when you are ready, when it feels right, you will be talking to me and without you even realising it, you will call me by my name! not Sire, not my Lord, not your Majesty… just my name… and on that day I will know that you truly see me as a friend… as a brother!”

I couldn’t help but smile at the picture they presented, my two noble Rangers locked together in an embrace; Faramir, modesty covered by the tails of his tunic, his breeches pooled against the tops of his boots and Estel, his face damp and his shoulder soaked by the tears of Faramir’s distress. Ay, we had made progress here today and it was but a start.

Now I would continue the lesson.

NB: Please do not distribute (by any means, including email) or repost this story (including translations) without the author's prior permission. [ more ]

Enjoyed this story? Then be sure to let the author know by posting a comment at https://www.faramirfiction.com/fiction/seeking. Positive feedback is what keeps authors writing more stories!


4 Comment(s)

Wwhat can I say. This story has help me realise that I can no longer hide my fears and nigtmares. Beautifully written, the story made me cry. I haven’t cried in almost fifteen years, it was such a relive, thank you so much

— Ingrid    Monday 25 May 2009, 22:28    #

Hi Shireling,

I realized that I’d never left you feedback on this story, so I wanted to drop you a line to let you know how much I like it! I loved the initial confrontations between Faramir and Aragorn here, and the loving discipline in the denouement as well as the part with Beregrond were just terrific.

— Susana    Friday 15 June 2012, 18:04    #

Thank you! This is absolutely the best Faramir discipline fanfic. There are so many out there, but none have even come close to yours (and, need we say, many are far better not read). Thank you for all the brotherly love and concern you have portrayed in the characters, and the sense of correct punishment vs abuse. Lastly, thank you so, so much for finishing it! So many authors lose interest and leave unfinished tales!
Bravo!

— Treedweller    Friday 25 January 2019, 22:12    #

it’s so cute i love it

— comrade hannah    Thursday 25 July 2019, 22:18    #

Subscribe to comments | Get comments by email | View all recent comments


Comment

  Textile help

All fields except 'Web' are required. The 'submit' button will become active after you've clicked 'preview'.
Your email address will NOT be displayed publicly. It will only be sent to the author so she (he) can reply to your comment in private. If you want to keep track of comments on this article, you can subscribe to its comments feed.