The elf had left the room some time ago, presumably to clean the slimy black liquid from himself, leaving Aragorn to his own devices.

After Legolas had gone, Aragorn dashed for the door in an unsteady line, certain that he must escape before his friend returned. Anticipating this, (curse him, Aragorn hissed aloud) he discovered Legolas had made certain the door had been barred from the outside. He could not get out.

Momentary panic and rage constricted his chest. He coughed hard.

He'd felt this way before, he realized, and slowly padded back to the bed, considering. Completely trapped and unable to do anything but wait for the enemy to come.

Ah yes. In Moria. He shivered suddenly and climbed back under his blanket, quite exhausted after his exciting morning. Moria. Yes. They had defeated the Goblins there. And the cave troll. The Balrog had not gone over quite as well, but in the end, the demon had fallen as well.

Surely he could master one furious elf. Surely Legolas had learned his lesson after trying to force the medicine down his gullet once. And even if he had not, the medicine was still pooled on the floor amidst shards of glass.

Aragorn supposed he would just have to wait and be ready for any counter strike that might come.

He continued to wait. And wait some more. It seemed that hours had passed, but he had no real concept of time in his prison, so he could not be certain. He was certain, however, that not even the vain elf prince would take so long to merely wash medicine from his face. Legolas was purposefully staying away until he thought Aragorn would be asleep and unsuspecting. Thus, he needed to stay awake. He must. For the elf was cunning, and silent. He would not hear him slip through the door if he dozed for just a moment.

Yet, he was very sleepy. Feeling his eyelids grow heavier and heavier, and watching the room shrink to a narrower and narrower slit of light, Aragorn knew that he must have swallowed more of the medicine than he originally thought. Aragorn also knew that Legolas must have realized this as well.

He was not going to last. Trying hard to think of what to do through the growing fuzziness of his mind, Aragorn decided he had but one option. He must set a trap for the elf. Getting up again, he dragged a chair toward the door and propped it against it on two legs, panting laboriously when it was done.

When Legolas pushed the door from the other side, the chair would topple over and Aragorn was confident he would awaken when the heavy wood of it crashed upon the stone floor.

"Try to ged passed thad, elf!" Aragorn dared out loud to no one at all. Hearing the sound of his own voice, he made a determined face and announced, "I ab the Kig!" Sighing, he shook his head. It was no use. He still couldn't say it with any dignity at all.

No matter. Legolas would know well enough who the King was when he found himself outsmarted by one.

Smiling at his cleverness, Aragorn again climbed into bed, chuckled, and lay down his head. He was soundly asleep in moments.

Legolas had admittedly lost the first battle but he did not intend to lose the next, he determined as he walked down the deserted wing of the palace, past the wary guards, and back toward Aragorn's chamber.

He had made the mistake of thinking Aragorn would fight honorably. The laws of war and conflict had been thrown aside, though. He understood that now. There was no mercy in this game any longer. No honor remained. Only devilry.

He paused outside the door, listening carefully for any sound of his charge. The room seemed suspiciously quiet and Legolas furrowed his brow. He wouldn't put it past Aragorn to be standing at the doorframe with one of the large floral vases his wife was fond of, waiting to crack it over his head. He must be careful, Legolas realized.

Even an ill Elessar was a worthy foe. With a self-depreciating shake of his head, Legolas brought his fingertips up to touch the four gashes on his cheek. A worthy foe indeed. He'd forgotten that before. He wouldn't do so again.

Before he unbarred the door, he reached into his pocket and his fingers touched the cool glass of the new medicine vial. The old Warden had been most disapproving when he'd requested more medicine and had clearly blamed Legolas, though Legolas told him Aragorn had dropped the tonic. Clearly, the Warden did not believe his King could do any such thing, and so Legolas had been scolded for his carelessness.

Legolas wondered what the old man would have thought if he'd seen Aragorn hurl the glass at the wall.

After unbarring the door with painful slowness, Legolas turned the knob and pushed at the door, feeling the slightest resistance as he did so.

Had Aragorn tried to block his return? Legolas wondered, and pushed a little further, until his arm could fit through the door. A roaring snore rolled into the hallway and Legolas' smile stretched the scratches on his cheek.

It was just as he'd hoped.

Reaching his arm into the door, he groped for whatever it was blocking his entry, and caught the teetering chair before it fell.  

 "Is that all you can muster?" Legolas whispered aloud, his voice barely more than a breath upon the air as he lifted the chair out of the way and entered the room.

The King did not stir, except to mutter something and then fall back into his laborious breathing patterns. There was quite a sweet smile on Aragorn's face, a satisfied smile.

It was almost a shame that Legolas planned on disturbing him in the most gruesome manner he could imagine.

He crept slowly, though he could have marched in to trumpets, for the King slept soundly. It was to his benefit that Aragorn was burrowed far under many blankets. Legolas set the tonic on the nightstand and tucked those blankets under the mattress very tightly. As he was moving to tuck the other side in, Aragorn stirred and Legolas saw his eyes flutter.

Legolas dove for the floor, pressing himself hard into the stone at the foot of the bed and holding his breath. If Aragorn saw the medicine on the nightstand, he'd surely send it flying to join the other. Legolas did not want to know what the Warden would say if he should appear in his doorway again.

Aragorn started, opened his eyes, and listened for a moment, unsure of what had awakened him. Silence. No. He hadn't heard the chair fall. He smiled again, closed his eyes, and almost instantly began to snore raggedly.

Legolas pulled himself by his elbows around the other side of the bed, lying on the floor as he shoved the blankets under the mattress on that side. Not wanting to risk being seen, and since no one was awake to witness this undignified posture, he crawled in a similar manner, upon his belly, back around to the other side of the bed.

Once laying below Aragorn's side of the bed, he snatched the vile from the table top and brought it down to his level to uncork it. He would have to be fast about it. There was no point in waiting for the right moment. It was now or not at all.

Popping up from the floor, Legolas was glad to see that Aragorn's mouth was slack and open, as he was completely unable to breathe through his nose. In one motion, Legolas again turned the bottle up and emptied most of it into Aragorn's open mouth. Before the King was even fully aware of what had happened, Legolas had put the vial aside, grabbed a fist full of Aragorn's hair in one hand, and holding his head still, shoved his mouth closed with the other, and held it that way with brute force.

Making strangling sounds of fury, Aragorn struggled, but the blankets effectively pinned him like a turtle on its back, and Legolas had quite a grip on his head, even as he tried to spew the medicine again.

"Swallow it!" Legolas commanded. "I'm not letting go until you do, this time!"

Aragorn thought he'd die first, but the taste of the medicine in his mouth was so foul that he was gagging and at last he reasoned that it couldn't be any worse to have it done with. And afterwards, he could have his revenge. For now, the elf had won. He swallowed, gagged, and nearly lost the medicine from the pits of his stomach, but Legolas was still there, shoving his mouth closed all over again when he wretched, and by sheer will alone, he kept the medicine in his churning stomach.

When at last it seemed as if the medicine might stay in the depths of the King, Legolas released Aragorn and grabbed the vial, backing rapidly away from the bed and placing it on a table across the room.

"There, that was not so bad was it?" He asked in an easy voice.

There was nothing easy about Aragorn though. The flush of the fever had drained away and he'd gone stark white with rage. He was fighting the blankets furiously, and Legolas knew they would not hold for long.

"Led be loose!" Aragorn demanded.

"Not until you give me your word that you will act in a gentlemanly manner." Legolas shook his head.

"I ab goig to kill you!"

"Ah, well then, I shall hurry over to release you right away," Legolas returned dryly.

Aragorn struggled, but Legolas had tucked in the blankets amazingly well and at last he was forced to give up and lay back, struggling to breathe and still gagging at the taste in his mouth. He cursed his weakness.

"When you have had time to think about this, and realize I have only your good health in my intentions, I will release you," Legolas murmured soothingly, and retreated to the table beside the medicine, moving the chair Aragorn had set as a trap from beside the door, and sitting upon it, which only made Aragorn look more furious. Legolas pulled a book from a shelf behind him, and propping his heels upon the table, began to read.

He could feel Aragorn's glare upon him for quite some time, but he did not glance up. When half an hour had passed, Aragorn finally sighed. "All righd. You wid. Led me go now so I cad drig somb wader?"

Legolas nodded and quickly came toward Aragorn, studying him carefully. Aragorn's eyes were clearer, his color back to unhealthy, feverish red, and his mouth set in a resigned and defeated line. Satisfied, Legolas leaned down and pulled the covers from under the mattress on the opposite side of the bed.

And was not entirely surprised when Aragorn lunged for his throat.