“It is Midsummer’s Day! Go home and enjoy it with your families.”

The Citadel Guards exchanged glances with each other.

“I appreciate the sentiment, my lord,” one of them said, “but we are on duty until the noon bell strikes. For a Citadel Guard to leave his post without leave is an offense worthy of death!”

“It is not without leave if I have told you to go.”

“But, my lord, with all due respect…you are not our commander, nor even a Lord of Gondor. We may not leave our posts without the leave of our captain, the King, or the Steward.”

“Nonsense! I knew your king when he was just a clumsy little boy, and he and your queen are my brother and sister. My younger brother and sister, I might add. If I give you leave to go, they will not begrudge your leaving.”

“My lord, I am sorry, but unless I hear that from the king himself…”

“Very well. Do you want me to tell your king that his guards will not show proper respect for his older brother? Or perhaps I should save him the trouble, and deal with you myself…”

The poor Citadel Guards never stood a chance. In the face of Elladan’s amiably delivered threats, they hastily excused themselves, thanking him for releasing them from duty.

“Was that not a little harsh, brother?” Elrohir asked. “Those poor men were only trying to do their duty.”

“Estel will not blame them for leaving their posts, and there is no way they we could have gotten her past them unnoticed. Even my stunning rhetoric would not have convinced them to let her through…”

Elrohir simply rolled his eyes. “Legolas, all clear! Bring her up.”

The twins’ elven friend soon came through the gate into the seventh level.

“Are you certain this is a good idea?” Legolas asked “I do not wish to harm diplomatic relations with Gondor, particularly since I dwell within its borders.”

“You worry too much. He’s the same Estel who grew up in Imladris.” Elladan replied.

“Yes, but if he does overlook this offense, will it not harm his own standing with his people?”

“He is the king returned out of legend, the great Captain of the Ring War, and the husband of the most beautiful lady in Middle Earth. Besides all that, he is a fine leader, irreproachable in character, and unfailingly good to his people. Nothing can hurt his standing.”

“Well, if you’re certain…but we had better do this quickly.”

 “Does everyone remember the plan?” Elladan asked.

His companions nodded their assent.

“I will keep watch until it is time” Elrohir said.

*****

It was not long before the noon bell rang, and the king and queen and their many guests assembled in the Merethrond.

After the standing silence, Aragorn addressed the crowd.

“On this, the longest day of the year, we celebrate Eru’s goodness toward us. Not only for keeping Anor in its vigil, but also for allowing the Ringbearer to succeed in his quest five years past, allowing us to live in freedom and peace. Also, I am grateful to for my Queen, who married me five years ago today. With all these reasons to celebrate, let us not delay!”

Just as he finished speaking, a door opened and a rather puzzled-looking cow wandered in, while the occupants of the Hall watched in shock.

The cow seemed frightened by being around so many people, but that did not stop her from doing her business right in the middle of the hall.

Horrified, Faramir leapt from his seat and approached the cow, motioning for a servant to remove the feces.  In his haste, he did not think to approach the poor cow slowly and from the front, so she, quite naturally under the circumstances, responded by kicking him, and he fell to the floor.

“Everyone stand back!” Aragorn ordered

The cow bolted, knocking several platters of food off the tables. Fortunately, she did not run over any people, and the elves were able to calm her down and lead her out of the citadel.

Aragorn rushed over to Faramir, who was bleeding profusely and moaning in pain.

“I’m here mellon nin.”  Aragorn kept up a soothing litany while he felt his Steward’s pulse and checked for signs of spinal injury. “That was a nasty kick, but it seems to have missed your spine and vital organs. Here’s a clean cloth. Can you put pressure on the wound?”

Faramir took the cloth with one cool hand and tried to press it against his bleeding hip, but quickly removed the pressure, moaning louder.

“Can’t…my lord…it hurts!”

“Shhh, I’m sorry Faramir, but we need to get that bleeding stopped.” Aragorn put pressure on the wound himself, even as Faramir cried out.

“Arwen, vanimelda, could you call for a stretcher, please? I think we need to get Faramir here down to the Houses of Healing.”

*****

When the three miscreants returned to the Citadel, they faced a livid Éowyn.

“What were you three thinking? A cow in the Citadel! They don’t even allow horses in the Citadel, not even the king’s! And of course the poor cow was startled. What did you expect! Aragorn said Faramir has a fractured hip. He won’t be able to walk or ride for weeks! Our people in Ithillien are going to be deprived of their Prince for over a month, just because a few elven idiots got him injured. Honestly! I don’t care if you are elven heroes. You are fools!”

“Our apologies, Éowyn. It was only meant to be a jest.” Elladan said.

He received a bloodied nose for his trouble.

“I am going to the Houses of Healing to check on my injured husband. I do not want to see any of you for the rest of the day.” Éowyn stormed off. She looked ready to slay another Witch King.

“I told you I had doubts about this idea,” Legolas said.

The twins looked slightly sheepish.

“Do you think the healers need any help?” Elrohir asked.

“I’m not certain they would want help from us…and Éowyn is going down there.”

That was enough to convince the three elves to avoid the sixth circle for the foreseeable future.

*****

“Feeling any better?” Éowyn asked.

“Yes, but that draught tasted awful! Did you have to take healing lessons from the king?” Faramir answered.

“Are you insulting the healing skills of your liege, Steward?” Aragorn asked.

“Certainly not, my lord. It is your culinary skills that are in question.”

“I assure you that any deficiencies Éowyn may have in that area are her own and cannot be blamed on me.”

Éowyn glared at her king most disrespectfully.

“Is that the look you gave my brothers and Legolas?”

“No. I was much angrier at them. “

Faramir and Aragorn exchanged sympathetic glances.

“I know they did not mean to harm me, my lord, but they did bring a cow into the Citadel. You must not overlook that; the people of Minas Tirith would be too upset if you did. My injury, however unintended, may add to their frustration.” Faramir said.

“I am certain you are right, but how do I punish elves that helped raise me? I am too biased. You are also, since you were injured.”

“Perhaps my uncle can deal with it.”

“I hate to thrust this on Imrahil…if anything, punishing elves would be more difficult for him than for me, because I do not hold these particular elves in awe….no, it must be me. But what sort of punishment would even be suitable for such a crime? Physical punishment is out of the question in this case, and there is certainly no legal precedent for this offense…”

Éowyn smiled. “I think I can help you there, my lord.”

****

A few days later, a guard ushered three slightly guilty-looking elves into the Hall of Kings, where Aragorn sat on the throne, face impassive.

“Serious charges have been leveled against you all. First, a farmer from the Pelennor asserts that you took his cow without leave and rode away. You are also charged with persuading Citadel Guards to leave their posts. Furthermore, you are accused of bringing a cow into the Citadel, and releasing her in the Merethrond, where, in her fright, she injured Prince Faramir, who is the Steward of this realm and a personal friend of mine. How do you plead to these charges?”

“Guilty, my lord.” Elladan answered.

“And the rest of you are in agreement with this plea?”

“Yes, my lord.” Legolas and Elrohir answered.

“So be it. This is my judgment:  first, you will scrub the floor of the Merethrond, where you allowed the cow to roam. Secondly, you shall return that cow to the farm you took her from. You will provide unpaid labor to that farmer for six weeks. Finally, you will each write a formal letter of apology to the Steward, his lady wife, the Citadel Guards, the farmer, and the cow.”

“The cow?” Elladan asked incredulously. “With all due respect, my lord, cows cannot read.”

“I am perfectly aware of that. The farmer will act as the cow’s proxy in accepting the apology.  However, the fright you caused her was separate from the disturbance you caused her owner. Therefore, you will write her a separate letter.”

The elves exchanged glances.

“Do you accept your punishment?”

“Yes, my lord.” the elves answered in unison.

“Good. You are dismissed.”

****

“A cow, Aragorn? You had them write a letter to a cow? Is that not a little excessive?” Faramir asked.

“Faramir, my friend, I am simply putting into practice a lesson my brothers themselves taught me. One prank deserves another.  I cannot take full credit, however. Your own wife suggested the punishment.”

Faramir merely rolled his eyes.