"Why do you ged deer steag and podadoes and I only ged wadery soub?" Aragorn asked when Legolas brought their dinners in on a large tray later that evening.

"Because you are far too delicate of health to eat such hardy food," Legolas offered as Aragorn screwed his face up in disgust as he peered down into the bowl of broth Legolas extended toward him.

He tried to push it away. "I do nod wad id. Share your food wid me."

Legolas pushed Aragorn's hand away and set the soup on the bedside table. "It will make you sick, and I do not believe you are so short of memory to have forgotten that. Arwen told me that when you demanded a full meal the night before last, your chambermaids spent time mopping it off the floor. And if you think I am going to do such a thing, you have come apart from your senses. Eat your soup."

He retreated, under the hot glare of his charge, to the table by the window and trying not to look too smug about it, picked up his own fork.

"I ab nod goig to ead this. You cad tell Arwed why I died of hudgerd." Aragorn said, and crossing his arms across his chest and lifting his chin in defiance, stared at Legolas.

"Aye. Starve then. I'll tell her. Any other message you would like to leave her?" Legolas asked and shoved a particularly large, and unelfly, bite into his mouth.

 Aragorn growled something unintelligible and Legolas went on eating.

"Your soup will get cold. You must be hungry," Legolas tried after a while, when his plate was almost half-empty. Aragorn's eyes had watched each forkful rise from plate to his mouth. His look had grown increasingly dark.

"No I'b nod," Aragorn snapped.

At that moment, his stomach elected to betray him and rumbled loudly enough that Legolas wondered why the guards didn't come running from the end of the hallway.

"Nod a word!" Aragorn hissed and snatched the bowl from the table so quickly that a good bit of it sloshed over the rim and onto his hand. Despite Legolas' suggestion that it would soon grow cold, the soup was still quite hot and with an elvish curse, Aragorn released the bowl and it shattered upon the stone floor.

Both of them were surprised into silence for a moment, staring as the broth ran like rivers through canyons of the grout in the stone floor.

Aragorn recovered first, slowly bringing his wrist to his mouth and licking what soup there was still there.

"I subbose you will have to ged me more soub," he shrugged.

Clearly Aragorn was right, and setting his teeth against the words that came to mind, Legolas turned and left the King sitting up in bed and looking more cheerful than he had in some time.

And when Legolas returned after having received a royal scolding from the royal cook for being so careless with the dear king's meal (after all how was the poor king to recover if he wasn't fed properly and at timely intervals?) and pushed open the heavy door, Aragorn was sitting at the table. His bare legs and feet stuck out from his nightdress and Legolas' now empty plate obscured his face as he licked it clean.

Aragorn had not even the grace to look abashed at having been thus caught, and lowered the gleaming plate back to the table, a smile of satisfaction blatantly beaming across his face.

"I was not finished with my dinner," Legolas snarled, annoyed enough to wish his bow was within his grasp.

"Id wad very good," Aragorn assured him and sat back in the chair, placing his hands over his now full stomach. "You cad haf the soub if you wad it."

Legolas actually thought the King might not live to see morning for the first time since he'd taken over his care.

"I cad nod sleeb."

"I care not." Legolas snapped from his makeshift cot across the room, still fuming after the loss of the better part of his dinner. "Be silent so that I may rest."

"I do nod feel very good," Aragorn whined. "I ade too much dinner."

"If you lose that dinner, you are cleaning it up yourself. I assure you," Legolas warned.

"I ab nod goig to lose id." Aragorn said, insulted. "But I ab thirsdy."

"You were well enough to rise and steal my dinner. Get your own water. And rid your nose of its obstructions. I grow very weary of listening to you speak and breathe like a dwarf."

Aragorn obligingly brought a stiffened piece of cloth to his nose, blowing it ferociously.

When the sound died away and his ears stopped popping painfully, he heard Legolas' unrestrained laughter.

"What is funny?" he asked, voice much clearer for the moment.

"You sounded exactly like an orc horn just then. I was just thinking that at any moment Gimli will break through that door, axe at the ready."

"I could only hope," Aragorn responded. "Now will you get me some water?"

"What is wrong with your two legs now that was not wrong with them a few hours ago?"

"I spent all my energy. Arwen would never laugh at me. She would get me my water."

"Well you should have thought of that and checked your tongue and she would be here with you now, bringing you your cursed water. And if she were still here, you are no doubt right. She would bring your water. Laced with poison."

Aragorn growled and eventually rose to get his own water, making a point to make as many groans of discomfort and weariness as he possibly could. Legolas lay, back to him, and seemed not to notice at all.

Making his way back to the bed, Aragorn lay and looked at the ceiling for a while, waiting just until Legolas' breathing was become slowly more regular, and as the elf reached the very edge of rest, whined loudly, "I still can nod sleeb."

Legolas drew in breath very quickly, so that it sounded almost as a hiss.

Inspired, Aragorn continued. "Arwed always sigs to me whed I can nod sleeb."

"I am not going to sing to you," Legolas assured him.

Aragorn sniffled. "You cad tell me a story."

He could see Legolas bristling in a shaft of moonlight that fell across the room from the partially opened curtains.

"All right. Here is your story. There was once, long ago, a man, a King of men, who would not grant an elf, a prince of elves, very handsome and noble, who was graciously caring for him a moment's peace. He whined for his wife, he called him foul names, he would not do as he was told, and he stole the elf's dinner. Finally, he tried the good elf one time too many and would not let him take his rest. And when the King finally did fall asleep, the elf bludgeoned him to death with a chair leg."

Aragorn sat in shocked silence for a moment, eyes wide. Finally, he found his voice and said in surprise. "Thad wad nod a very good story."

"Perhaps it was not so much a story as prophecy," Legolas suggested.

"You are threadening me now? Aragorb, son of Arathord?"

"What?" Legolas asked, raising his head.

"Aragorb!" Aragorn repeated before he realized that the elf was simply playing his own game again.

Legolas let loose a bark of laughter. When at last, he quieted, Aragorn looked at the ceiling and thought about it for a few moments before announcing, "I shall very much enjoyd hafing you pud to death whed I ab bedder."

Conscience cleared, at last he went to sleep.

 ***

*Note: I'm revising a bit, and this is as far as I've gotten...so to be continued, soon.