Faramir Fiction Archive

Seeking (G)

Written by Shireling

27 June 2005 | 45981 words

Chapter 12>

Faramir didn’t respond, at least not in words, though he clutched on to me as though his whole future depended on maintaining the contact. He wept against my shoulder and I sent up a prayer of thanks that I had the honour of standing here in Boromir’s stead, able to give him the comfort of a brother’s arms and attention.

If I had a smile on my face it was matched only by the smile that illuminated my Elf’s fair features, he positively glowed, relief finally erasing the remaining shadow of concern. But I saw something else in his eyes, a flash of the wisdom that had helped me through numerous difficult and painful lessons on my road to maturity; a determination to give of his utmost to see Faramir safely on the road to a happy and contented future, no longer burdened by the grief’s and pain that have blighted his past.

“How fares my Steward?” I asked, pushing Faramir to arms length to better see his face. He met my gaze, not boldly but with a greater degree of confidence than he had hitherto presented.

“I’m not sure, Sire,” he whispered, his voice rough and strained. “Sore. Tired. A mess! I suspect I present a sorry sight, Sire… I am glad there is no council meeting today… I fear my reputation would sink without a trace, Sire.”

“Those who know and value you will always see through the superficial to the truth beneath, Faramir,” I assured him. “But I have to agree that sitting on a hard chair for the duration of a council meeting could indeed prove a challenge at the moment. Perhaps I should have Arwen embroider you a nice padded cushion to grace your chair.” I teased, smiling at the blush that flooded his pale features.

“Sire!” he choked in mortification.

“Just teasing, Faramir. Arwen did suggest cushioned seats for all the councillors but I fear that too much comfort might just encourage the meetings to drag on, a prospect I endeavour to avoid at all costs.”

Mention of his tender bottom alerted him to the fact that his breeches were still at half-mast; he reached to retrieve them but Legolas stayed his hand.

“Perhaps now is a good time to dispense with your boots and britches, little Ranger, and get you back into your nightwear where you belong,” Legolas commented, removing said items without giving Faramir the time or opportunity to object. He stood in puzzled bewilderment as Legolas retrieved a nightshirt and pointed Faramir in the direction of the bathing chamber.

When he returned a few minutes later, his face washed and his hair damp and combed he did indeed appear more composed and presentable.

“Do you intend to tuck me up in bed again?” he asked, somewhat facetiously, “or can I be trusted to find my own way!” Legolas flashed me a knowing grim before turning his attention back to my cheeky and unsuspecting Steward.

“Oh, believe me, little Ranger, I will indeed be tucking you in… .when I have finished with you,” he promised with a predatory expression. Faramir’s cocky grin faded to a look of wary concern.

“What exactly do you mean by that?” he asked, backing away a step. Legolas crooked a finger and beckoned him forward.

“ ‘We’ still have things to discuss, little Ranger,” he said quietly but with a look of steadfast intent. Faramir glanced at me, a look of horror and disbelief on his face.

“Best do as Legolas says, Faramir,” I warned him. “You do not want to test his patience; believe me when I say that there is no gainsaying my Elven warrior when he is on a mission… .and right now he has you in his sights.”

“No… NO, I will not submit to this. You ask too much. You do not intend to ‘discuss’ anything, do you?” he fumed, moving backwards until he could retreat no further. Legolas moved forward, his demeanour purposeful but non-threatening.

“There will indeed be discussion and your behaviour merely demonstrates that there are matters that still require clarification between us, little Ranger.” Legolas confirmed.

With further retreat impossible Faramir cowered against the wall, his arms hugged defensively across his front. Legolas stopped an arm’s length in front of him.

“Come my brave Ranger, we can do this. You know that you are safe with me and that I will not harm you.” Legolas soothed

“No, you will not. You will not do this. I will not allow it… I will not submit! Sire,” he demanded, “make him stand down. Tell him he can’t do this.”

“Faramir, in matters pertaining to your care and wellbeing Legolas has my ‘full’ authority. You will follow his instructions as if they came directly from me.” I said firmly.

“Come, little Ranger. At once, Faramir,” Legolas ordered, placing an arm on the shoulder of the hunched and defiant figure.

“NO!” Faramir exploded into action, pushing Legolas away and seeking to escape to his chamber. He almost made it to the door before I had time to react.

“Faramir, HOLD!” I ordered.

As ever the voice of command cut through the fog of his defiance and he froze. We moved towards him, each placing an arm across his rigid shoulders. “Enough, my Steward. You will do what you know to be right,” I chided him as we led him towards the padded settle near the fireplace. He embraced his anger and outrage at this unwelcome turn of events, trying to find that position of silent detachment he had utilised in the past; I fear that facility is lost to him now that we have broken through some of the barriers he used to hide behind.

I stepped away as Legolas took a seat and gently pulled Faramir into position over his lap.

“Please don’t do this, Legolas. Please… I thought you were my friend… Why are you doing this?” Faramir pleaded. Legolas calmly ignored the entreaties even as he adjusted Faramir’s position. Faramir sought to distance himself from the proceedings by hiding his face in his folded arms.

This was a pivotal moment in the development of the relationship between Faramir and Legolas and I felt that I was perhaps, at this point, superfluous.

“Faramir, do you wish me to stay here with you?” I asked. I received no response, not even a shake of his head.

“Legolas,” I asked, “would you like me to stay?”

“Nay, my Lord, it is not necessary,” he said with a smile of reassurance. “Faramir and I have much to discuss and I would not keep you from your other responsibilities. We will be fine. Be assured I will send for you if you are required.” His words were formal but I could see the soft, tender gleam in his eye; he was confident and in control, sure of his purpose and his ability to see this through, no matter how long the process should take. I bent over until our foreheads touched, showing him that he had my confidence, as I had his.

“Very well, I will leave you. Faramir, do not resist this.” I urged, running a hand over his head in blessing. “Trust Legolas, as I do, he will see you through this.”

Estel left, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving the two of us alone, the silence broken only by Faramir’s ragged breathing and the soft hiss and crackle of the fire. Faramir was still and rigid over my lap, his legs out straight, supported along the length of the settle and his chest supported on a cushion to my left. I could not see his face; he had folded his arms in front of him and had buried his face between them.

“Faramir,” I said, “I know this is difficult for you but know that I am here for you, I will not leave you, you are quite safe… “

“Just get on with it… do what you will,” he hissed. I was reassured by his outburst; it confirmed that though he was trying to distance himself from this he had not locked in on himself; unable to access that isolating silence, deep inside, where he used to hide.

I expected a reaction to my first spank, after all he had already endured Estel’s expert attentions and his buttocks and thighs were still red and acutely tender. I grasped him tightly and gave him a warning but I was unprepared for the severity of his reaction. He arched violently and howled and but for my grip on his waist he would have fallen to the floor. He fought and struggled to escape, wrenching and kicking in an attempt to evade the next fall of my hand. It took me but a moment to contain his flailing limbs and subdue him; I secured his legs by hooking my right leg over his and I leant over him, using my body to prevent his struggles.

“Settle down, little Ranger. Settle down.” I crooned, stroking the back of his head and his neck. “I know you don’t want this but that decision has been taken out of your hands… cease your useless struggles, we have only just begun and we have a long way to go!” He did not heed me, he continued to struggle and resist.

“Release me, Legolas!” he demanded. “You will not do this… I demand that you Let Me GO!”

“Tut-tut, little Ranger, such rebellion will get you no where. I am making the decisions here and you will remain over my knee, being spanked, until I am satisfied that we have dealt with all of the matters that still need attending to,” I informed him calmly.

I held him, locked down over my lap, until he finally stopped struggling, until he had no fight left and surrendered himself to my care. He made one final attempt to persuade me to desist and his broken plea was nearly my undoing.

“Please, Legolas. Please don’t sp-spank me any more… .so, so so-sore… please!” I had to harden my heart and remember just what I was attempting to achieve here. He needed to accept me in this role, just as he would have to accept Beregond’s care. I wondered if we had perhaps made an error in not involving Beregond in today’s lessons but regrets were useless, he needed my full attention here and now.

“I know, Faramir,” I soothed, rubbing my hand lightly over his tender, fiery bottom, “but I also know that without my attentions we will not get to the heart of those matters that still oppress you and hurt you deep inside. You have survived far worse than a spanking many times before, trust that I know what you can endure.”

When I recommenced the spanking I reduced the force and the frequency of the spanks in consideration of his already painful state. He had so little room to manoeuvre that he had no ability to evade each carefully placed blow. I didn’t try to converse or discuss anything with him, I wanted him to concentrate on what was happening to him, but neither did I want to leave him in silence; that was what Denethor had done to him and I did not want him to feel alone or abandoned in his punishment; I murmured and soothed him with my voice, Elvish endearments and words of comfort even as he wept into his cupped hands.

“Now, my brave little Ranger, we have much to discuss,” I said when he finally ceased struggling and kicking and surrendered to lie limply over my knee. I didn’t stop spanking completely just an occasional blow between caresses over his scorched bottom.

“Why are you being spanked, Faramir?”

“Dis-dis-bayed orders,” he gasped.

“No, Faramir. Estel dealt with that matter; Estel dealt with your insubordination. I am not punishing you again for the same offence.”

“Then why… .I-I don’t understand… have I been bad!”

“No, Little One, not bad. You are here, in part, because of Beregond,” I explained gently. “You are here because it is important that you realise that you can and will be called to account for your actions and whether it is by Estel or me or Beregond or Gimli or even Arwen, if you are called to account you will accept what is due… .”

“Arwen. No Oh, no… she wouldn’t!” he interrupted.

“Faramir believe me when I tell you that Arwen takes her responsibilities as surrogate sister very seriously. You underestimate her at your peril; she has a hand every bit as hard as Lord Elrond’s and she is not averse to quelling reckless or irresponsible behaviour in a corporal manner,” I assured him.

“That sounds like the voice of personal experience,” he exclaimed.

“Never mind that, it is you we are discussing at the moment,” I said, getting the conversation back on track and focussing his attention with a sharper spank.

“You questioned both Beregond’s and my authority to discipline you. That will not happen again, Faramir; our authority comes from the King and is rooted in our mutual concern for you well-being and welfare and that authority will stay in place until Estel withdraws it.” I reinforced the importance of the message with a flurry of sincere spanks. “Is that clear, Faramir!”

“Yes… clear… very clear, Legolas… please stop. I’ll be good. I-I promise I’ll be good,” he wailed. I went back to rubbing his tender bottom adding just the occasional spank as he wept.

“Very good, Faramir. You’re doing so well, my brave little Ranger but now we come to a more difficult task and I need you to be good and brave a little longer.”

“What-what task Legolas?” he asked fearfully, rubbing his tear-soaked face on his sleeve and looking back at me over his shoulder.

“I want you to tell me about Osgiliath,” I demanded, gently but firmly. “I want you to tell me about your Rangers.”

My words reverberated into a silence punctuated only by the resumption of my hand spanking firmly and with increased intent on his already painful bottom. Such was his reluctance to engage with this subject that for several minutes he remained stubbornly silent, even through the increasing fire in his backside. The effort to remain silent was costing him dearly, his breaths exploding through gritted teeth; he was struggling against my hold, struggling to retain a modicum of control. I would not allow it.

I did not repeat my command, I let my actions speak for me; I gripped him tighter against me and landed half a dozen hard, fast spanks at the tender area at the very top of each thigh. He arched against my grip and his right hand shot back.

“Remove your hand, Faramir or I will continue my current attentions.” His hand remained in place as he howled and cursed. “Such behaviour is unseemly, Lord Faramir,” I chastised, as I took hold of his wrist and secured it against his hip with my supporting hand; I administered another six hard swats to his thighs.

“Now… you will tell me now, Faramir!” I demanded. He had exhausted his rapidly diminishing reserve of resistance.

Please, stop… ..oh… .please, please stop… .I’ll tell you… I-I will… just please stop!”

“Very well, little Ranger… tell me your tale.” I slowed and lightened my spanks, interspersing the blows with soothing caresses.

“So awful, Legolas… so-so awful!” he wept.

“I know, little Ranger, so hard to think of and remember such a horrible scene and you are being so brave. Think back and tell me of the battle.”

“We-we were called as reinforcements, Osgiliath was under threat and we could do no more in Ithilien. We tried, tried so hard and they just kept coming…more and more of them. It wasn’t a battle it was a slaughter. Broken bodies and severed limbs everywhere. So much noise, so much blood, screaming, crying, calls for help… .and we could do nothing. It was hopeless We had to retreat, the city had fallen to the enemy… we had to retreat and leave the wounded to their fate… we rode away with their cries for help ringing in our ears… we didn’t even have time to end their suffering humanely… we just rode away, leaving them to the blood-lust of the enemy. We betrayed them… we betrayed them,” he sobbed.

“No, Faramir, it was not a betrayal or a failure, it was a war. And wars are cruel and vicious. But you were not to blame, Faramir, not for the deaths or the losses. You played your part bravely and honourably, you guarded and protected your men to the best of your ability. All admit that you are an outstanding Commander; your men loved and revered you, Faramir but you are only one man, you are not infallible, you could not save them all, you were overwhelmed by a fearsome enemy.”

“Should have tried harder… should have done more. Bor-Boromir would have held out… I was weak… always a disappointment… “

“NO, Faramir!” I challenged, bringing my hand down firmly as I resumed spanking him. “Those are your Father’s sentiments but they are not true, not then and not now. Even with double the numbers you could not have held back that evil tide. Your Father was a troubled and broken man, overcome by the enemy through his use of the accursed stone. I know what he said to you, Faramir; I know how he sent you on a doomed mission with only his spite and his cruel malice to see you on your way… .”

“I was a coward… I wanted to die… nothing left to live for. Boromir gone and my Father wishing me dead in his place… I wanted only peace, oblivion… no more pain or fear or hurt… I wanted to die, Legolas… I wanted to die… .and-and when I was hit, when I fell from my mount, I wasn’t scared, I was relieved… going to be reunited with Boromir. I just gave up, stopped fighting… I let the darkness take me.” He wept, sobbed as if his heart were breaking.

“Do not be so hard on yourself, Little One, you were exhausted and injured, you had suffered great losses and had fought under the fell influence of the Nazgûl, it is no wonder that you despaired. It is a wonder to me that you held out under the strain for so long.”

I gathered him up into my arms until he was curled around me, his head against my shoulder and his legs tucked behind me, his weight resting on his hip to spare his blistered bottom. I let him cry out his distress, he was too distraught at that point to heed my words, overwhelmed by the strength of the emotions that his memories had brought forth. There were still matters that I wanted to cover but I needed him to be calm to hear me. I was in no hurry, we would take this at his pace; I had pushed him hard but it was a measure of his strength, of his fortitude, that he had endured my attentions as he had.

As he calmed he tried to pull away from my embrace and I saw in his eyes that he was embarrassed at finding himself, yet again, in this vulnerable and needy position.

“Be still, little Ranger, do not fret, I would not have you leave my arms just yet, it comforts me to hold you close,” I assured him

“Forgive me! It is unseemly, all I seem to do is weep and display my weakness!” he whispered. “Until recently it was not my habit to cry! I never used to cry and now I cannot seem to go a single day without breaking down… I feel so childish.”

“There is nothing to forgive, Faramir, nor is there anything childish or weak in releasing your grief in tears. The harm comes in suppressing your emotions. I do not judge you or think you weak, I am proud of your strength and fortitude… it has helped you survive a life that would have crushed a lesser man.”

“Faramir, you have spoken of your grief and of your despair and that is good, for those hurts have less power to oppress you when they are viewed and acknowledged. You can only begin to heal when you face up to them but there is something else you need to do, Faramir.”

“What… what must I do, Legolas?”

“You must throw off your guilt, Faramir. You must forgive yourself for surviving.” I hugged him tightly against me and whispered my words against his ear. “You survived for a purpose, you have much still to accomplish. You must embrace the future, Faramir… live every day to the full… rejoice in all the new possibilities that are opening up for you… A wife, a home in you blessed forests of Ithilien, children to bring you joy… you have earned the right to peace and happiness and you owe it to the memory of all those who have gone to make the most of the blessing that their sacrifice has bought. That is what you fought for, Faramir! that is what they gave their lives for, do not squander their blessings.”

He wept, no longer the desperate haunting tears of old but healing tears as he finally accepted my words, finally accepted he had a future.

“Legolas. Thank you!” he whispered.

“What are you thanking me for Faramir?” I teased. “Are you thanking me for blistering you bottom?”

He sniffed and smiled up at me. “No… no-yes… I don’t know… I just… I needed… I’m trying to understand… it’s just… “

“I know, Little Ranger… I know. You don’t need to understand just now. Just accept that things have changed and that you are not alone. You will never be alone, Faramir, never again. We will be here whenever and wherever you need us… you have only to reach out. We will not allow anyone to hurt you… not even yourself… .and if it means I have to blister your deserving backside everyday day for the rest of your life, I will do so. Do you understand, Faramir?”

“Yes, Legolas,” he whispered sheepishly, burying his face from my sight.

We stayed, plastered together, until the room grew dark with the approaching dusk. He dozed in my arms and I was quite happy to be his pillow. I knew that I would likely never have this opportunity again; never again would he be so open and so vulnerable. We had made great strides; we had released the great stifling dam of grief that had paralysed him. He had accepted care from both Estel and myself and had accepted that should it be necessary he would accept Beregond’s attentions. We had not undone a lifetime’s oppression in just a few days and I had no doubt that he would challenge his boundaries many times in the future. I would be content to give him whatever attention he required and I would revel in watching him grow into his future.

A quiet knock on the door heralded the arrival of Lord Elrond who came in carrying a tray of supper.

“Forgive the intrusion but Estel asked me to come and check that his Steward had survived your ‘relentless’ attentions, Legolas!” he teased, with a gentle smile. Faramir stirred but remained motionless in my arms.

“Relentless! I thought I was quite restrained, given the circumstances!” I pouted, giving Faramir a wink to show I was joking.

“He was cruel… very – very cruel! Sir… .I may never sit again!”

Lord Elrond laughed. “Estel thought you might benefit from the application of my cooling lotion, Faramir.”

“That would be most welcome, Sir… my backside is on fire!” Faramir pouted.

“I suppose that means I must let you up, little Ranger! Can you stand?” I asked him.

We helped him to his feet and guided him to the bathing chamber, leaving him to his privacy as he made himself comfortable and washed the tear-tracks from his face. We arranged the pillows on his bed so that he could rest on his front, his chest supported on pillows and his arms free to eat his supper from a prone position.

We sat with him and chatted while he ate his supper and then Lord Elrond administered his special lotion, raising his eyebrow at the state of Faramir’s bottom.

“Faramir, may I suggest that you remain in bed tomorrow and allow yourself time to recover,” the learned healer advised, “and please exercise caution, you do not want to be attracting any more disciplinary attention for a while!”

“Yes, my Lord. Thank you for your advice… believe me, I do not intend to end up in that position ever again.” I couldn’t help but laugh, especially when Faramir glared at me. “Never again, Legolas… I will never need that kind of attention ever again!” He assured me with absolute confidence.

“HA. Faramir, at the rate you are going, I will give you a week!” I said, patting his bottom and making him squeak.

EPILOGUE

I find it unbelievable to comprehend the way my life has changed.

I fear that this is just another dream; not a true nightmare the likes of which I am so accustomed to, but a dream that, should I wake and find myself back in the old reality, would be horrific in its loss. To go back to the old way, to go back to the way I was sure I was destined to endure would be, quite simply, unbearable.

How have I come to this point?

How have I earned the right to enjoy the unlooked for but oh so welcome comfort of freely offered friendship? How has my life been turned about so completely that I no longer recognize the man that I was?

I see now that I was nearly beaten down by my fate. I was so close to giving in to the despair and the grief; the darkness was then so welcoming, so easy to embrace. I was so close, so very close.

And yet I was rescued; rescued from a darkness of my own choosing by my two faithful, fearless warriors; gathered up by tender loving arms, pushed to my limit in order to expose and release the depth of my hurt, sharing my anguish and loving it away with their boundless compassion and unfailing support.

Oh, my blessed, blessed warriors.

Never have I shed so many tears. Never did I know that I had so many tears in me or that I was allowed to release them. To be shown that what I had seen as weakness was not weakness at all but a necessary release. How many other truths that had underpinned my understanding would prove to be false?

In one matter they proved to me most convincingly that I was worthy of their attention, that I was deserving of love and approbation, that I was allowed to err, that my errors would be noticed, acknowledged and that I would be held to account in a loving and supportive manner.

But the manner of their attention! Oh, I blush even now to remember the horror and mortification that gripped me when they had proposed their own brand of accounting. To find myself exposed, physically and emotionally, held tight by their unfathomable strength; a child’s punishment and yet not! I had kicked, squealed, begged, sobbed and finally surrendered to the insistence of their attentions, unable to believe that a hand could inflict such fire, that I could feel safe in the midst of such an ordeal… it made no sense. They had broken me down, taken me to a point that the worst of my father’s punishments had never achieved and they had done it with and for love. They had seen my need and they had answered it.

They have given me so much. They have given me a belief in the future; a future that I thought I would never see, a future for myself and for Gondor, a belief that all of my tomorrows should be cherished for the possibilities they presented. And not only have they given me a future but they have given me back my past, my memories. The pain and distress of releasing the stranglehold of grief that had blocked my memories of my brother was a small price to pay for the relief of being able to once again capture his essence.

Aye, they have given me much. They have given me hope.

I stand now on the brink of that unanticipated future. Tomorrow we begin the long sad journey to escort the body of King Théoden back to his final resting place. From my place at the balustrade I can hear the festivities as our company celebrates our last evening together here in the city. I can hear the strains of a Lord Elrond’s harp and the lyrical voices of the hobbits as they share songs of the Shire.

Far below on the night-darkened plain I can see the campfires of the Rohirrim; the night breeze wafts the sounds and the smells up to the highest level of the Citadel. Further away I can see the lights and fires of the first few homesteads nestling against the foothills of the mountains, another sign of renewal.

I have spoken to Éomer and made my formal application to petition for the hand of Éowyn in marriage, my petition seconded by the King himself. When the matter was first broached between us I thought King Elessar was going to object to the union. He asked me if it was truly my wish to be married to Éowyn and I made the mistake of saying that I would do as he commanded! He said he had no intention of commanding me in such a personal matter and that if that was my only reason for agreeing to the union then he would forbid any further discussion of the matter. It took me a lot of persuading to finally convince him that it was truly what I wished. Only when the matter was settled did I realise that he had been toying with me… .I wonder if I will ever understand his sense of humour!

My quiet reverie is broken by the sound of soft footfalls behind me. I don’t need to turn around to know that I am being observed.

“Well, My Steward, are you tired of the celebrations so soon?”

“No, Sire, I was just getting a breath of air. It will be a while before I look on this view again. I was just setting it firmly in my memory before our departure tomorrow.”

“And what held your attention so avidly, you have been lost in thought for a while?”

“Nothing important, Estel, just quiet contemplation. Just remembering”

“Say that again!” The demand takes me by surprise and I turn to look at him, surprised to see the odd expression on his face.

“Say it again, Faramir!” he demanded again.

“I said ‘I was just remembering,’ Estel! Why? What have I done… have I said something wrong?” I was confused, bewildered by his reaction.

My answer was to be suddenly enveloped in a fierce embrace.

“I told you this day would come!” he whispered, brokenly. “You did it, Little Brother! You called me by my name! You called me by my name!”

“I did, didn’t I!” I gasped, struggling to get the words out from the tightness of the embrace.

“Is this a private celebration or may anyone join in?” Legolas was standing close; neither of us had heard his approach. “Have you upset our King, Little Ranger!” he asked with a gentle grin, wiping his thumb tenderly across Estel’s cheek

“No, Legolas, he has made me very happy.”

“Then I suggest you release him before you crush the life out of him!” Legolas exclaimed, catching me when the Estel released his vice-like hold. “Come this calls for a celebration.”

We walked back into the party together.

Brothers-in-arms.

Brothers of the Heart.

Continue to the sequel “Paying the Piper“

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!