Work Text:
"Can I please ask, what is going on here?"
"An old family tradition."
"My youngest being a pain."
"Well I can't argue about Faramir being a pain..."
"Hey!"
"...perhaps I should have asked what is he trying to talk you into, Den, and why?"
"The why is easy to answer, and I'm sure you'll work out what he is trying to get out of me by the time I'm finished."
"Fair enough. I have a few minutes spare."
"The story starts one afternoon about forty years ago when I left my eldest son in the hands of my younger sworn brother."
"Actually, I think I'm supposed to be meeting with the treasurer very soon."
"No, Uncle Aragorn, that's tomorrow."
"Thank you, Faramir. Now, as I was saying, I left Boromir with his beloved Uncle Thorongil, while Finduilas and I did some gift shopping for Mettare. When we came back, my son had been thoroughly educated in a northern ritual, wherein a child attempts to annoy their father into handing over said child's Mettare presents early. Needless to say, he took to the tradition like a duck to water, and when his younger brother was born, taught him the tradition as well."
"Ah. I think I understand now."
"It works rather well on Uncle Imrahil. His four children always get at least one present early, unless their mother hides them from her husband."
"Faramir, aren't you supposed to be working on the troops movements in South Gondor at the moment?"
"No, that's Boromir."
"Exactly. Go"
"If you hear the noise of steel on stone, please come and rescue me."
"My apologies Den, I didn't realise at the time just how good a memory a child has. I thought he'd forget within a few weeks."
"Don't let it bother you. I have a few methods of getting my own back with those boys if they get too bothersome. Faramir in particular is rather ticklish right at the base of his rib cage."