A Harsh Word
They were tired, all of them. None so tired as the hobbits, unused to the rigors of hard marching and moving quickly, but the constant watchfulness was taking a toll on all of them.
Gimli and Legolas were showing the stress by snapping at each other, the millennia old battle between their peoples being re-fought a word at a time. It wasn't constant, else the others would have been justified in coming between them, but tended only to flare for a few moments when the camp was settling for the night.
It was a pressure valve, the others knew this, and so even though they were reluctant witnesses, they kept quiet, knowing it was useful, if annoying. The comments were vague, always generalizations, and caused no real harm.
This night, however, things seemed to take a turn for the worse. The day had been an especially tense one, their pace faster than usual, breaks more scarce. At last, they had felt safe enough to stop, and no sooner had their packs hit the ground and fire been started, than Legolas and Gimli had also started.
Being used to it, Aragorn ignored it as he indulged in a small pipe. Boromir looked cross, but concentrated on arranging his packs. Merry and Pippin were on either side of Frodo, as usual, while Sam rummaged nearby, trying to assemble a passable supper.
A change in tone caught Aragorn, and he quickly tuned back into the now sharp words crossing the air around them.
"...would think that, wouldn't you? What else could be expected from one of your kind, and too young for even what passes for common sense in elves to be present? It's little wonder your people find themselves in dire straits."
Legolas face showed no reaction, but his reply was immediate and harsh.
"My people may be dying, but from what we've seen recently, it would seem yours are already dead. And worse, unburied and unmourned."
"Legolas!" Aragorn's quiet bark told the young elf he'd gone too far, even before he saw the pain flood Gimli's suddenly pale face. The stout form visibly sagged, and a flicker of defeat crossed the knobbed face.
Without a word, the dwarf turned and slowly walked away. He wouldn't go far, Aragorn knew, but he would need to be alone for a little while.
Turning to face Legolas, the ranger let his displeasure show clearly, the set of his mouth and look in his eyes all the scolding needed to get his point well across.
The elf swallowed hard and turned from Aragorn, only to find himself facing an angry man. Boromir's nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed as he spoke angrily.
"You may well be both immortal and elven, but that remark begs for you to be taken across a knee."
Legolas, feeling his shame increase, turned to the hobbits.
Merry and Pippin refused to look at him, but he could see their thoughts easily enough on their faces. Frodo met his eyes kindly, but shook his head slowly. Sam hesitated only a second before saying softly,
"In all the things Gandalf ever told me about the elves, never once did I ever hear him say they were cruel."
Legolas felt that rebuke deeply, and the mention of Gandalf brought to mind easily what the wizard would likely have said had he been there. He lowered his head, closing his eyes for just a moment, thinking hard and deciding quickly.
He moved to stand before Boromir, his placid features belied somewhat by the slight tremor in his voice.
"I do not know what it means to be taken across a knee, but if it is a fair punishment for what I have said, then I will take it gladly. Will you oblige?"
Boromir's look of anger was quickly replaced by one of surprise, and he turned questioningly to Aragorn.
"Spanking is unknown amongst the elves. Due to their nature, it is usually not necessary, and they generally live too long for it to be practical." There was a hint of amusement in the shadowed eyes, but when he continued, his voice remained stern.
"It would be a fitting punishment for this, for tonight. But since it will be you who carries out the sentence, it must also be your choice, Boromir. Legolas, it is fair, but it is personal, and you must understand if he should refuse." With this caution to them both, he sat back against a large rock, relit his pipe, and simply lapsed into silent waiting.
"Legolas," Boromir began hesitantly," a spanking is not an easy punishment to take, especially for one full grown. It is meant to be a child's punishment. It would be both painful and humiliating for you to lie across my lap and have your naked backside suffer my hand."
Having a good idea now exactly what a spanking would mean, Legolas continued to meet Boromir's eyes.
"Were my words not painful and humiliating to Gimli? Did I not cause him to suffer? Did my words not strip him of the pride and dignity due his years? No, Boromir, it will not be an easy punishment for me to take, but I think you are right in that it is what I deserve. I ask again, will you oblige?"
Casting a last, long look at Aragorn and receiving only a short nod for advice, Boromir sighed. Gimli had returned, but as he was still outside the firelight, Aragorn and Legolas were the only ones that were aware of his presence, and that he had heard Legolas's last words.
"Very well, Legolas. If that is your decision, I shan't make you ask three times. Besides, you damned well deserve it."
Boromir returned to his seat, a large low rock with a relatively flat top. It was a good height, and would hold them both comfortably. He removed his rings, left his braces on, and reached out his hand to the lovely young being before him.
"Come, Legolas. Enough time and rest have been lost to your sin, I'd be done with this."
Legolas gave his hand, and was lightly pulled into position face down across the broad thighs. It was simple enough for Boromir to draw down the leggings, and soon he was being held fast, his bottom bare and vulnerable.
Unable to quite believe he was doing this, Boromir brought his hand down hard across the slender rear.
A handprint appeared in dark pink, but Boromir ignored it, landing another spank just below it. Having resigned himself, Boromir knew he must be fair, and so his hand rose and fell with no trace of his earlier doubt. The dusky smudges soon blended into a solid shading of first magenta then red, though Legolas never made a sound, and his only movements were tiny, graceful shifting of hip and thigh.
Realizing he had no idea if the young elf was suffering enough or too much, Boromir paused, again seeking guidance from Aragorn. The ranger shook his head slightly, and Boromir rested his hand while asking sternly,
"Legolas, what is this punishment for?"
"For speaking as I did to Gimli. I went too far, and in doing so, I hurt him. By hurting him, I hurt the fellowship, and endangered our mission."
Boromir resumed his spanking concentrating on the lower parts of the rounded bottom, the vulnerable tops of the thighs. This elicited a faint breathy sound from the elf, as well as a minute rise in the feet from the ground.
It must have been the sign Aragorn was waiting for because he now caught Boromir's eye, signaling enough. Grateful, Boromir carefully drew the clothing back into place, causing a slight shiver, and helped Legolas stand up.
"I was wrong. I apologize to all of you. Gimli, I am sorry for what I said. It was not meant, and while I do not ask your pardon, I will ask that you put it aside for the sake of our purpose."
"Ah, you've apologized well enough, and while you were wrong, you might have been a bit provoked. Dwarves are charitable beings, we'll say no more about it."
"Thank you." Legolas was sincere, and the dwarf, much mollified by the public penance and apology, waved a dismissing hand at him.
"I would thank you also, Boromir, for helping me find an honorable solution to this. I am in your debt."
Boromir reached out a hand, clasping a strong, but seemingly delicate shoulder. He smiled at Legolas, intending to brush the thanks aside, but froze when he got his first real look at the elf.
He'd never looked lovlier, hair flowing back around his shoulders after being so long hanging down, eyes darkened and full of swirling emotions. There were two bright spots of soft color on each sculpted cheekbone, and his bottom lip was flushed and slightly swollen from being held between teeth.
Boromir had intended only a somewhat fraternal hug of comfort, but he was dazzled by the beauty before him.
"Gods, but you do tempt a man." He hadn't meant to say it aloud, but Legolas gave him an honest, if somewhat tremulous grin. It held just the tiniest hint of mischief, and a sweet trace of approval. Boromir was lost, and his eyes never left those of Legolas as he asked hoarsely,
"How old are you, in human terms?"
Legolas calculated, then said with a stronger smile,
"Slightly more than twenty of your human years, I believe."
"That's old enough." So saying, Boromir tangled one hand into the silken mane and used it to tilt the lovely face up for a long, rough sweet kiss. It was returned happily, and when Boromir swept the elf up into his arms, the group heard the welcome sound of Legolas' laugh.
"Grab my cloak." Boromir leaned down enough to make this possible, and then strode off with his soon to be lover into the woods.
"Far enough we do not see, not so far you cannot hear." Aragorn called it softly after them, eyes sparkling as he took in chuckling dwarf, and four embarrassed hobbits. He threw another branch into the fire and settled back to think of his own elven love.