Faramir Fiction Archive

Elves, Orcs and the Road to Recovery

Written by KC

06 November 2004 | 58662 words

Part 17

Exhausted from laughing so hard and left in peace by the Elrondion twins who went in search of other mischief no doubt, Faramir dozed for a while. He must have dropped off into a deep sleep, the young Steward realised upon awakening, as he had not heard his father approach or sit down beside where he lay.

"Well, ion-nin," Thranduil said as he smiled at his son. "You are looking much better, I must say. It must have been all that laughter earlier, hmmmm?" Thranduil teased but had been delighted to hear his son's laughter for he had not realised that Faramir could laugh so delightfully and wished to hear him laugh more often.

Faramir smiled shyly as he sat up, seeing his father's teasing for what it was - affection, and basked in its warmth.

"They must have been a handful for Lord Elrond when they were elflings," the young Steward said affectionately.

"Oh aye! The 'duo horribus' were and *are* a handful, there is no doubt," the Elven King replied, chuckling. "And speaking of handfuls, ion-nin. I have a proposition to put to you."

Faramir looked askance at his father, feeling that he was not going to like this conversation.

"I do not like protracted punishments ion-nin, however much deserved," Thranduil said looking at his son intently, "as I am sure you do not. I propose to proceed with both punishments owing to you by now. If you so choose."

Faramir was right; he did not like the conversation at all. The young Steward contemplated both equally distasteful alternatives, have his arse blistered for the next two nights or blistered for the next three nights. Realising that Legolas and Finrod could arrive back at any time, Faramir decided on the lesser of two evils.

"Now," came Faramir's piqued response in a voice barely beyond a whisper.

"All right, Faramir Thranduilion," the elven King said as he stood and offered his son a hand up. "Come with me."

Faramir followed his father into the forest and to the clearing where the fallen log was located. The young Steward's eyes were drawn to a familiar red 'thing' atop the log. Eyes narrowing, he glared at his father but chose the wise course of keeping his mouth in check. Thranduil sat down upon the log and signalled Faramir to sit beside him.

"Before we begin, pen-neth. I want you to tell me why you are to be chastised and what you need to do in future to stay any further punishments?" Thranduil asked gently as he put his arm around Faramir's shoulders.

"To think before I act," the young Steward mumbled as he looked at his feet, which had seemed to become fascinating.

"And?" the elven King prompted.

"Not to go alone," Faramir mumbled again as he continued to stare downwards.

"Yes, ion-nin," Thranduil said as he gave his son a hug. "Let us get his over with, tithen-pen," Thranduil said to get his son moving.

Faramir stood, loosened the ties of his leggings and lowered himself over his father's knees. Thranduil wasted no time in warming his son's buttocks, laying stinging slaps with his hand. Faramir, still sore from the other chastisements, was soon whimpering and squirming. Thranduil, feeling lenient towards his son for the poor boy had been through some very rough days, landed a few more hard spanks to Faramir's buttocks before taking up 'Faramir's Bane'. The elven King proceeded to paddle his son's buttocks and thighs until the young Steward's whimpers turned into howls of pain. It did not take long for Faramir's posterior to turn the same shade of red as the paddle. Landing a few more blows to Faramir's 'sit spot', Thranduil ceased the punishment, pulled up his sobbing son's leggings and gathered the young man into his arms.

"Shhhhh, tithen-pen. All is forgiven," the elven King crooned to soothe his son who was babbling apologies in between gasps for breath as he continued to sob. Thranduil remembered Faramir's musical laughter of earlier in the day and lamented the necessity for the punishment just now metered out.

The elven King guided his very tired human son back to the camp where Faramir laid down upon his bedroll on his stomach and fell almost instantly into a deep slumber. Thranduil covered his son with two warm cloaks, tucked them around him and sat down beside his son. The twins, who had arrived back from whatever mischief they had been about, looked at Thranduil accusingly on seeing the condition of their young friend. Maglor looked at his young charge and then at the bowl of food he was carrying. Sighing, the Seneschal turned around and placed the food back into the pot in which it had been cooked.

---

When Faramir awoke the next morning, Thranduil was there to greet him. When the young Steward managed to slowly emerge from his normal early morning fog, he gave his father a small shy smile. The elven King ordered Faramir to rest again that day for he was concerned about the dark circles under his son's eyes, although relived that the circles were not as dark as they had been. Faramir spent the day resting and being stuffed with food by Maglor, which was accepted by the young Steward with as much grace as he could muster. Which, in actuality, was not much.

Legolas arrived back that evening and was walking towards the camp when his elven eyes detected his father and Faramir. He stopped and watched. His brother was standing and being held in an embrace by Thranduil who whispered something into Faramir's ear that made him laugh in the same musical way Legolas had heard so rarely.

On seeing the look of adoration his father's eyes, Legolas felt both anger and fear. The elf saw Faramir walk away from the camp. Giving an elf whistle that would be answered by his father alone, Legolas waited. Thranduil soon arrived and was taken aback by his son's agitation.

"What is it, my elfling?" Thranduil asked in alarm. "What has happened?"

"Oh ada! He is human. A mortal. You cannot give your heart to a mortal," Legolas said, anger and fear vying for dominance as he paced up and down in front of his father.

In their agitation, neither elf saw the distressed eyes of a young human looking out from the cover of trees. Backing away quietly until he could no longer see Thranduil or Legolas, Faramir turned, walked back to the camp and sat down where his bedroll lay near the campfire. Stunned, falling back into old habitual coping behaviours, the young Steward kept his features schooled to neutrality, all the while feeling his heart shattering anew. Oh what a fool he had been, the young man berated himself silently as he looked deeply into the flames of the campfire. What a fool he had been to believe that he was deserving of love, the unwanted, unloved, second son of Denethor.

So engrossed was he in the inner dialogue and his inner turmoil, Faramir did not hear the approach of his King.

"Faramir?" Aragorn asked as he looked down at his young Steward. "Faramir," he said a little louder on seeing his Stewards distant look. When the Faramir seemed to come back to himself, Aragorn asked. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," Faramir answered, using the skills he had developed as a child to keep all emotion from his features, thus hiding his pain.

"Are you ready for the last of your punishments?" Aragorn asked.

"Yes," the young Steward replied as he rose and followed his King into the forest.

Walking in silence King and Steward came upon the clearing and the fallen tree where Faramir had received his other punishments. Aragorn sat down upon the log, laid 'Faramir's Bane' beside him and waited for his Steward to move. Operating without conscious thought, Faramir loosened the ties of his leggings and lowered himself over Aragorn's lap.

"What is this punishment for, my Steward," the King asked as he laid the first whacks to his Steward's buttocks.

Faramir felt the compulsion to tell the King what was in his heart. That he cared not what he was being punished for but just wanted to cease to exist. Not to enter the halls of his ancestors. Not to meet with Boromir again but to simply enter oblivion, where there was no love, no hate and no feeling. Going ever deeper into himself and detaching from what was happening to him, as he had done during the punishments metered out by Denethor, Faramir fought the ring's compulsion to speak.

Aragorn mistook Faramir's silence for stubbornness and kept demanding that his Steward answer him, his anger growing and the blows to Faramir's buttocks and thighs becoming harder. It was not until Faramir's rear was as red as the paddle did the King realise that something was amiss for his young Steward had made not a sound. Warning bells clanged in Aragorn's head and he stopped the punishment abruptly, releasing his Steward. Faramir, still eerily silent, slipped from Aragorn's lap, pulled up his leggings and knelt beside his King, eyes cast down.

Aragorn slipped from the log and down onto his knees beside his young Steward.

"Faramir," the King said quietly. "Faramir. Look at me," Aragorn said in a louder voice as fear began to grip his heart.

The young Steward did as he was commanded and 'looked' at his King. Aragorn gasped when he saw the glazed and vacant expression in Faramir's eyes.

"Thranduil!" Aragorn called out in alarm as he took both of Faramir's hands into his own, hoping that physical contact would bring his Steward back from wherever it was that he had gone.

---

Thranduil, who was embracing Legolas, heard the alarmed call from Estel. Both elves broke the embrace and flew in the direction from whence Aragorn's voice had come. Bursting into the clearing where Estel knelt beside Faramir, they met with Maglor who arrived at the same moment.

"What happened, Estel?" Thranduil asked as he signalled Legolas and Maglor to stay back as he approached his human son quietly.

"I… I do not know," Aragorn replied, shaking his head.

"Tell me what happened, Estel? From the beginning," Thranduil asked as he stroked Faramir's hair growing more concerned at his son's continued unresponsiveness.

Aragorn explained all that had occurred; that he thought Faramir a little subdued back at the camp but did not think on it overmuch.

"…I thought his silence was stubbornness, or I would never have continued," Aragorn assured Thranduil.

"I know you would not have, mellon nin," the elven King responded reassuringly. "Maglor?" Thranduil waved his Seneschal to approach.

"Oh, mellon nin. He is a long way away," Maglor said in a quiet tone as he saw his young charge's unfocussed expression.

"I doubt this is the first time he has done this and I suspect this was how he coped with Denethor's punishments," Gandalf said gravely, causing all eyes except Faramir's turn to him, as he walked into the clearing and stood beside Legolas.

"I do not understand," Aragorn said, his confusion and concern apparent in both his voice and expression. "He has not reacted to any other punishment this way. What was different this time…?"

Legolas groaned, closing his eyes against the image of his brother before him, lost within himself.

"Oh, ada! He heard what I said to you," Legolas said with absolute certainty, tears welling in his eyes.

"Aye, my elfling. I think you are right," Thranduil said, closing his eyes and bowing his head for a moment.

"What? What was said…?" Aragorn began.

"We will explain later Estel," Thranduil replied as his thoughts raced to determine the best way to help his human son. "Leg-o-las. Go back to the camp and prepare a bed for Faramir," Legolas nodded once in understanding, turned and ran back towards the camp. "Estel, I suspect we will need a sleeping draught. Go," the elven King instructed his friend in an effort to keep him occupied.

Reluctantly, Aragorn let go of Faramir's hands and did as he was bid.

Thranduil gathered his son into his arms and walked quickly back to the camp with Maglor and Gandalf on either side. The elven King handed his son to Maglor and sat down at one end of the bed prepared by Legolas. The Seneschal lowered his young charge to the ground, leaning him against Thranduil. Tears streaming down his face, Legolas crouched down beside Faramir and wrapped two cloaks around his young brother.

"I am so sorry, muindor tithen," Legolas intoned quietly. "I am so sorry!"

Thranduil cupped his elven son's chin gently, lifting it so that Legolas' eyes met his own.

"It will be alright, my elfling," the elven King said soothingly. "We will bring him back and explain."

Lips trembling, Legolas nodded and sat down on the other side of Faramir. Thranduil put his arm about his human son's shoulders, drew him close and waited all the while crooning softly in elvish. Twice, as they waited, Maglor managed to get his young charge to swallow some water. Estel hovered, alternating between periods of inactivity and frenzied activity. Gandalf sat on the other side of the campfire waiting patiently for Faramir to return.

Faramir did return to himself slowly and painfully, overwhelmed by a feeling of shame for he knew what had happened. He had sought to hide within himself again. Something he had not done since… He did not want to remember the last time.

Thranduil sensed the change in Faramir and felt his son stiffen.

"Are you back with us ion-nin?" Thranduil asked in a whisper.

Faramir, not trusting the firmness of his voice, nodded once. An overwhelming sense of shame was making the young Steward feel nauseous.

"You heard Legolas and I?" Thranduil asked gently even as he held his son tightly.

Another nod.

"I do not think you heard the entire conversation, ion-nin," the elven King said as his mind raced to find the words to explain. "When I told you that you had taken my heart completely, I meant it. Legolas saw immediately upon his return that I had given my heart to you. It was a shock to my elfling for two reasons but not for the reason you think for you have won Legolas' heart as well. The first reason is that Legolas has never had to share me with anyone and my impetuous elfling felt momentary jealousy. The second reason is that the bond between parent and child can be very strong. Such is the case with the bond between my two sons and I. Legolas was afraid that when you died, I might die also - of grief."

Faramir's breathing and heartbeat increased alarmingly as he digested the implications of his father's words.

"No… no… you cannot die because of me… you cannot. I am not worth… " Faramir stammered, tears welling in his eyes.

"Finish that sentence, ion-nin, and I warn you, as sore as your behind must feel right now I will turn you over my knee and blister your arse until you are wailing," Thranduil growled dangerously. "Do. You. Understand. Me!"

Tears overflowing, Faramir nodded.

Legolas moved from his position beside his young brother and knelt in front of him, so that he could look into Faramir's eyes.

"I am sorry, Legolas. I did not mean for this to happen. I am… so… sorry," the Steward sobbed, not wanting to meet the elf's eyes.

"Shhhh, muindor tithen. Ada is right. I did feel jealously for I have always had ada's full attention. But hear this. I do love you, muindor tithen" Legolas said as he put a hand to each side of his brother's face, looking Faramir directly in the eyes and forcing the young human to do the same. "Look into me Faramir. See that I tell you the truth. I know you have the gift. Look into me…"

Faramir did as he was asked, delving into the depths of the elf's soul and on seeing the truth of Legolas' words, burst into wracking sobs.

"That is better, muindor tithen," Legolas said as he patted his brother's shoulder even as Faramir curled into Thranduil, fisting his father's tunic as he sobbed into his father's chest.

Legolas and Thranduil shared a teary smile, knowing that all would be right again, that Faramir had accepted the truth of their words.

When the young Steward's sobbing reduced to hitching breaths, Maglor handed the sleeping draught prepared by Estel to Thranduil who held it to Faramir's mouth. The young Steward eyed the brew and then gave Maglor a long dark look as he drank. Maglor smiled and sighed in relief that his young charge was back again. As always, Faramir fell into a deep sleep within moments.

"Well," Thranduil sighed in relief. "We seem to have come out of that conversation relatively intact."

"What do you mean, ada?" Legolas asked perplexed.

"We did not have to explain how I was able to allay your fears at the possibility of my dying an early death due to grief," the elven King replied.

"Ada! Do you mean to tell me that he does not know?" Legolas asked incredulously, his elven eyebrows going skyward.

"No, he does not know. Do you wish to tell him?" Thranduil asked as his eyes widened.

Legolas thought about the issue from a mortal's point of view. How would he react as a mortal, reconciled to the thought of one day dying and going to the halls of his ancestors, to be told suddenly that you will, in all likelihood, live as long as any elf. Then he remembered the displays of temper that he had seen from his younger brother. This coupled with the thought that Faramir was a somewhat unstable but very powerful wizard in-the-making, made the elf cringe in alarm.

"Ah, no, ada. I will leave that to you," Legolas gulped.

All was quiet except for the chuckling heard from Gandalf.

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