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Legolas writhed, growing frantic. "Estel, please stop! Please . . . ." His voice broke but he ceased not his tearful pleading. His next desperate whisper was intended for Aragorn's ears alone: "I can't take any more, Estel . . . please . . . ."

Aragorn was unimpressed. "Legolas, will you stop that begging!" he demanded. "I have not yet given you a swat."

Twisting around to look at his friend, the Elf raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, I have to practice, you know, since you seem bent on this brutality."

"Brutality? You are to receive five, not fifty!"

"No matter." Legolas turned to face forward once more. "Now will you get on with it so I can put these tears to use?"

"Fine." Aragorn raised his hand, then stayed it. "Legolas," he asked, injecting what he hoped was an appropriately stern tone into his voice, "why are you being punished?"

"I haven't the bloody faintest idea."

"Legolas . . . ."

! "No, really. Not a clue."

"You wish to tell me that you know naught why you are here?" Aragorn asked, incredulous.

Legolas shrugged, shoulders rising briefly. "I always assume, unless you tell me different, that I'm here because you're a perv." He did not turn his head.

"What??? You think I enjoy this?"

"Well . . . don't you? You certainly seem to practice it frequently enough."

Aragorn gaped at the back of that regal head. "You think I'm a perv? Because I discipline you?"

Legolas twisted again in his precarious position then, turning to eye the Man. "Discipline? Discipline? I am literally thousands of years older than you, Estel, and a warrior as well. I was fighting Orcs while you were but a stirring in Isildur's loins."

"Watch your tongue, Elf!"

"Oh, come. I'm here because, for one who's walked Middle Earth for 3000 years, I look not a day over 582. Let's face it -- I'm gorgeous, and you're a! perv. Now are you going to begin, before I grow even older?"
e "Nay -- hold. Why would you think such of me? What reason have I given you?"

The Elf waved his hands expansively to the sides. "Well, THIS comes to mind . . . ."

Aragorn shook his head. "I have fallen in love with Arwen, pledged her my heart and my life! I have never shown even a remote interest in you!"

Legolas only shrugged once more. "I would not speculate on your relationship with Lady Arwen," he replied coolly. "However, I would say you have often 'shown a remote interest in me,' or at least in a certain part--" he glanced meaningfully over his shoulder "--of my anatomy." He sighed, the weight of ages in one exhaled breath. "Now I ask you again, Estel, will you get on with this?"

But Aragorn only narrowed his eyes, suspicious. "Nay . . . " he seethed, "that's just what you want, isn't it? You would have me confirm your vulgar accusations? Well, I will NOT!" And he rose abruptly, bristling. The Elf tumbled from his lap to the for! est
floor, landing with an audible thud, and the Ranger stalked back toward camp.

Legolas stretched out on the cool dark earth, rolled onto his back and winked at the whispering trees. "That's ONE way to skin a cat, isn't it?" And his clear laughter echoed through the forest.

The End