Faramir Fiction Archive

Elves, Orcs and the Road to Recovery

Written by KC

06 November 2004 | 58662 words

Part 2

The exhausted young Steward of Gondor slept for over a day. On the morning of the second day he roused from his deep slumber, albeit slowly. First Faramir became aware that he was ensconced, very comfortably, in his own bed. His ranger sense picked up on sound and movement so he knew that he was not alone. A small smile came to his face as he could guess who was there with him.

"Finally he awakens!" Thranduil teased from his seated position in the chair by the side of Faramir's bed. "I thought you would sleep this day away as well, ion-nin."

Faramir's smile brightened as he rubbed his eyes in much the same manner as he had when a child.

"How long have I been asleep, ada?" Faramir asked softly as he yawned widely, scrubbed at his face and ran his hands through his curly red-gold locks.

"Almost a day and a half!" the elven King announced.

"Oh c…" the young Steward began to curse as he sat up suddenly. Before any more words issued forth, a hand clamped over his mouth muffling any further words. Startled, Faramir looked up and into the eyes of Maglor. The young Steward blushed profusely at the amused look on the Seneschal's face.

"None of that pen-neth. We do not wish to start this day with a wallop now do we," Maglor admonished his young charge mildly. Faramir's eyes widened as he continued to look at Maglor and then to Legolas who was sitting on the windowsill to his left. The young Steward's eyes narrowed as he could see Legolas' shoulders shaking with mirth even as the elf tried to hide a grin. "I will go see what I can find for you to eat," Maglor said as he released Faramir's mouth, turned and walked out of the room.

"Ada has let loose the reins on Maglor, muindor tithen," Legolas informed Faramir with a giggle as soon as the Senschal had left. "You are in for some very interesting times," the elf added enigmatically.

Thranduil stilled his elven son with a mock glare.

"Ada?" Faramir asked in a tone that sought clarification.

"Maglor will simply be more…attuned…to your needs ion-nin. That is all," Thranduil reassured his human son.

"Ada!" Faramir exclaimed quietly, seeing through to the core of the situation with his usual acuteness. "I am a grown man. I am hardly in need of a nanny!" the young Steward implored in a harsh whisper.

Thranduil graced his human son with a raised eyebrow and a look of scepticism. The young Steward had the grace to blush and duck his head in embarrassment in the realisation that his recent behaviour gave lie to his assertion that he did not need a nanny. Legolas laughed. Faramir glared.

---

After complaining that there was enough food on the tray to feed a small army, Faramir ate most of the food that Maglor had brought back. On finishing the meal, the young Steward bathed, dressed and made his way to the King's study to which he had been summoned. Faramir entered Elessar's study not knowing what his reception might be.

"Ah, there you are," Aragorn smiled and motioned Faramir to sit in a chair by the fireplace. The King studied his Steward intently much to his Steward's discomfort. "You are looking well rested, my Steward," Aragorn said smiling slightly at his Steward's obvious embarrassment.

"Well…yes…being drugged tends to have that affect on one," Faramir replied in annoyance and chagrin.

"A sleeping draught does not put one to sleep for a day and a half, my Steward. You were exhausted," Aragorn admonished with a stern glare.

"Yes, sire," Faramir admitted, sighing in quiet defeat.

"What am I to do with you," Aragorn said shaking his head at his young Steward.

"You could banish me to Rohan," Faramir quipped, only half in jest.

"I am sorry that Éowyn will be gone from you for so long," Elessar said with genuine regret.

"From what I could read between the lines of Éowyn's letter, King Éomer, although undoubtedly a great warrior, has the diplomatic skills of an orc - one of the less intelligent and more belligerent ones at that," Faramir complained, unkindly, in quiet exasperation.

Aragorn laughed well knowing the young King of Rohan's…limitations.

"Shame on you Faramir," Aragorn admonished but with a small smile that softened his words. "Not a very charitable assessment of your future brother-in-law."

"No, but true nonetheless, Sire," the young Steward replied.

"On a different subject and the reason you were summoned," Aragorn began. "You will be leaving again soon to take your father to view the elven haven. I need someone to assist with the damn paperwork. You were sorely missed, my Steward."

"That much was blindingly obvious," Faramir muttered.

"What was that?" Aragorn asked with a stern look at his Steward.

"Nothing, Sire," Faramir replied with the same look of innocence that sent shudders down the spine of Legolas. It had the same affect on Aragorn.

"Alright," Aragorn said with a sceptical look. "Who would you recommend to assist me in your absence.

"Beregond!!" Faramir exclaimed with a smile. Elessar looked at his steward intently.

"This would not be a form of revenge against the poor man, would it be?" Aragorn asked as he studied his young Steward, knowing that Faramir still harboured a grudge about 'Faramir's Bane' and Beregond was instrumental in bringing the instrument's existence to his attention.

Faramir smirked.

"Beregond really is the best man for the job, Sire," the young Steward answered honestly.

"But if it is work not to his liking, you would not find it in your heart to pity him," Aragorn guessed.

"No, I would not" Faramir admitted smirking.

---

Faramir spent the next two weeks handing over the administrative duties to Beregond who had, at first, thought the duties a form of punishment. Faramir assured the poor beleaguered man that even though it appeared punishment it was actually an honour. The young Steward laughed when Beregond had looked at him in disbelief.

Maglor spent the two weeks ensuring that his young charge was provided with meals at regular intervals. On the second night, Maglor arrived with a tray of food to Faramir's study where he was tutoring the human Beregond in the duties that he would perform. Some time later, unbeknownst to either Faramir or Beregond, the elf had returned and was glaring at the uneaten meal.

"Beregond?" Maglor asked impassively. "Would you leave us alone, please?"

Startled, Faramir looked up at Maglor. The Steward's eyes darted to the tray of uneaten food and then back to Maglor. Beregond, sensing some undercurrent, looked at Faramir who nodded his head in agreement and then left the Steward and elf with alacrity. Beregond was pretty sure what was about to happen and although one part of him rejoiced that the Steward was being cared for, another part wanted to seek out the deepest darkest hiding place for fear of the Steward's temper.

"I am sorry Maglor, I meant to eat the food. It just slipped my mind…" Faramir pleaded in his own defence as he rose from the chair in which he had been sitting. The young Steward's eyes widened and his face paled when he saw what the Seneschal was holding in his hand.

Faramir groaned.

"Elflings are very flighty and prone to periods of not eating. The standard cure for this condition is to spank the elfling lightly on the first offence and to greater and greater degrees on subsequent offences. Most elflings, with a few exceptions, learn very quickly," Maglor said as he walked slowly towards his young charge. "I wonder, pen-neth, how long it will take you to learn?" the Seneschal asked as he stopped in front of the Steward.

Faramir's eyes darted about for an escape route but none was available. Taking a deep breath the Steward braced himself for what was about to happen.

"Where do you want me?" Faramir asked in a pained whisper.

"Leggings down and across the desk, pen-neth," Maglor answered briskly. Faramir sighed again and did as instructed. Leggings down and draped across the desk, Faramir awaited the punishment. "Twenty swats with the paddle, pen-neth," Maglor said as he pulled Faramir's tunic up to his waist.

"Twenty is not a light punishment!" Faramir's exclaimed indignantly and would have straightened had Maglor not been holding him down.

"You are not an elfling, pen-neth. Now I want you to count each one so that each is imprinted on your mind as well as your behind," Maglor instructed the young human as he landed the first swat.

"One," Faramir yelped at the stinging swat. "Two… three… four… five" Faramir ground out, his temper rising. "Six… seven… owww… eight… nine… ten," Faramir continued, whimpering with each stinging, biting swat from his bloody red nemesis. Temper taking control over mouth again, the young Steward made the mistake of cursing softly in Rohirrim. "OWWWW!!!!!!" Faramir yelled as Maglor landed an all-powerful swat to his abused rear-end.

"I am also fluent in many languages, pen-neth," Maglor said as he stopped for a moment.

"Eleven," Faramir spat out trying desperately to regain control over his mouth.

"That one does not count, tithen-pen," Maglor informed the Steward, as he resumed the paddling.

"Eleven," Faramir growled. "Twelve… thirteen… fourteen… fifteen," Faramir managed to say, between sobs and gasps for breath. "Sixteen… seventeen… eighteen… nineteen… twenty…owwwww" Faramir howled as Maglor made the final swat a memorable one. "I am sorry… sorry," the young Steward said over and over.

Sobbing, Faramir remained leaning over the desk as Maglor pulled up his young charge's leggings. The young Steward hissed at the pain this action caused him but preferred the pain to the embarrassment of having his leggings down round his ankles. Maglor rubbed Faramir's back gently in circles. Pulling the human up gently Maglor enveloped Faramir in a hug and rocked him as the Steward sobbed out his pain. The Seneschal held Faramir until the young man had regained some calm.

"Are you alright?" Maglor began. "Stupid question, I know," the Seneschal chuckled at the glare from his young charge. "Has the message reached you mind as well as your behind, tithen-pen?"

"I am not about to say no am I," came Faramir's surly answer.

"Oh, tithen-pen! It is no wonder that Thranduil is so taken with you. Two peas in a pod!" Maglor laughed leaving Faramir to wonder.

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