"Perhaps it does not taste so bad as it smells," Legolas reasoned as he and Aragorn squared off after the healer and Arwen had gone. Aragorn had pushed the medicine firmly away from him and settled back on the sheets. Legolas stood at the foot of his great bed, arms crossed.

"You are welcob to try id," Aragorn invited, waving a hand toward the nightstand. "I will tag your word for id."

"It is for your own good, Aragorn. The healer said you must take it."

"I ab a healerd. I say I do nod tag id."

"Yes, well I am in charge of your recovery. And I must sincerely insist that you do."

Aragorn scowled. "I ab weary of this discussiod. Id is over."

"Nay. It is not. You have only one choice in this matter. You will take the medicine. The choice you do have is how."

Aragorn's eyes narrowed as he sat up a little taller in the bed. "Ad how do you plad to make me tag the medicined?"

"You do not wish to know. Take it on your own, and save yourself the discovery," Legolas warned.

Aragorn snorted with mirth, choked suddenly, and coughed hard for several moments.

It was the opening the elf was looking for and he lunged as the King doubled over. Aragorn, upon realizing what was happening, emitted a sound that could only be called a shriek, and raised his hands to defend himself too late.

Though lighter of weight, Legolas believed he had right upon his side, and threw himself across the blankets and the King under them, pinning Aragorn's thrashing legs with ease. His intent was not to hurt Aragorn, but as a well-driven fist glanced off his jawbone, Legolas reconsidered.

Aragorn moved as one gone berserk, fighting his friend as furiously as he'd ever fought any orc of Mordor. He heard, from his plugged ears, a fierce growling sound, and realized momentarily that it came from his own throat.

When Legolas caught one of his wrists hard, Aragorn brought the other hand scraping across the elf's cheek, clawing at his fair skin with blunt nails and feeling a rush of satisfaction as he watched blood well in four red lines there.

"Enough!" Legolas shouted at last, narrowly missing a pass at his eyes by Aragorn's fingernails, and brought his elbow hard--perhaps harder than was necessary, Legolas would later decide, and then in the same moment decide he did not care--into Aragorn's ribs.

The breath exploded from Aragorn's lungs in an undignified ooooof! and stunned for a moment, Aragorn lay still and tried to draw air, unsuccessfully. Unconcerned at the sound of Aragorn's wheezing attempts to breathe, Legolas took his opponents' stillness as an advantage and captured Aragorn's other wrist, holding onto it tightly. By the time Aragorn regained his breath, Legolas had him effectively pinned.

Eyes flashing fire, Aragorn hissed, "you bedder led be go now! I will cald the guards!"

"If you try, I shall make you regret that as well," Legolas warned, and yet was not in the least surprised when Aragorn thrashed his head back against the pillows and bellowed for his guards.

Not sure whether they would come or not, but guessing that they might, Legolas knew he had very little time.

Shifting so that he grasped both of Aragorn's wrists in one hand, and using his body to pin them as best he could, Legolas reached for the vial. He unplugged it with his teeth and nearly gagged when a small drop of the medicine clinging to the cork dropped upon his lips.

It was wicked stuff indeed which pleased him immensely. More so as he contemplated the stinging scratches on his face.

Aragorn very firmly closed his mouth; Legolas could hear his teeth grinding together, could see the tense line of his jaw. Spitting out the cork, and instead holding the opened bottle carefully in his teeth, Legolas used his free hand to pinch the King's nose hard.

Legolas thought the sheer indignity of it might kill Aragorn, and smiled grimly into the King's eyes, which very, very effectively communicated the desire to end Legolas' stay on Middle Earth.

For several moments, he thought Aragorn might actually allow himself to suffocate before he would suffer himself to open his mouth, but eventually, just as he was turning alarming shades of crimson, Aragorn's mouth opened wide as he gasped for air.

Moving with impressive, even by elvish standards, speed, Legolas released Aragorn's slimy nose, took the vial, and poured a goodly amount of the medicine into his opened mouth.

With a choking noise of fury, Aragorn used all the strength left in his body, and moved with Ranger-speed, freeing his arms, and snatching the medicine from the elf. At that same moment, the horrid taste of the liquid fully registered, and Aragorn spewed it directly into Legolas' face.

If he lived the immortal life of the elves, Aragorn would never, ever forget the shocked look on Legolas' face as the elf reared back, covered with dripping black liquid, sputtering and wiping frantically at it with his hands and sleeves. He retreated from the bed, back to the foot of it, and presumably out of range of any other projectile Aragorn might launch at him, looking utterly demoralized.

Aragorn, with a defiant look at Legolas, hurled the medicine across the room. The little bottle shattered against the stone wall by the window and the remaining liquid oozed down the wall with unnatural slowness.

The look that quickly replaced Legolas' shock was one of such wrath that Aragorn considered himself very fortunate that his guards chose that moment to open his door.

"My lord?" one of them asked, looking in confusion to the King, who had black liquid dripping from his beard, to the elf who had black liquid dripping from eyebrows, cheeks, and chin, to the wall, which was covered in the medicine as well. "Is there something you needed?"

"Kill himb," Aragorn announced and gestured weakly at Legolas, spent after his exertion.

"My lord?" the guard repeated, unsure of himself, though it did seem as if the elf posed a threat to his sovereign at the moment, standing there bristling with rage, a purple bruise welling along his jaw and his cheek scratched.

"You heard be. Kill himb! Tag himb away!" Aragorn ordered, and was highly upset when neither guard drew his sword.

"Oh for the love of the Valar," Arwen murmured hopelessly as she stepped into the room and surveyed it. Her arrival was much to the relief of the two guards, who recognized true authority when they saw it. She looked first at Aragorn, then at Legolas, and with a heavy sigh, told the guards, "that will be all."

Aragorn and Legolas waited as the guards exited. They both looked expectantly at Arwen as soon as they were alone, but she said nothing as she glanced from one to the other.

At last, without a word, she turned and walked from the room.

It was not until a moment later that her high, clear laughter echoed down the stone hallway.

Legolas, if possible, looked even more furious.

Aragorn, knowing retaliation would come swiftly and severely, understood that he could never sleep again.

****