Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings. Now, why do you look so surprised?

It was a morning to behold. Rivendell was indeed blessed with great beauty and elegance. Flowers were delicately sprinkled on the ground, weaving nets of soft fragrance. Golden sunlight flowed from between intertwining boughs; the garden was a spectacle.

Aragorn and his betrothed had just set out from Rivendell for a leisurely stroll around the valley when two familiar figures came into view.

'So that's where the apples went,' remarked Aragorn as he spotted Merry and Pippin. The hobbits were perched on a bench, munching busily.

'Hello, Strider, good morning, Lady Arwen,' the hobbits greeted the man and the elleth who took seats beside them.

'Good morning, my friends,' replied Arwen. 'So, tell me, are you enjoying your stay in Rivendell?'

'Oh, yes,' Merry nodded, as Pippin gestured wildly through a mouthful of apple. 'It's so different, like a place from old tales, but sometimes it reminds me of the Shire, of home.'

'I'm glad,' Arwen smiled.

'Frodo seems to have recovered well hasn't he?' said Aragorn. 'Hobbits are certainly a tough folk.'

'Thank you, kind sir,' Pippin grinned.

'We've hardly talked with the old fellow,' said Merry. 'Gandalf insists that Frodo needs a good rest.'

'Just this morning, Gandalf turned us out of the treatment chambers for 'disturbing the peace' and 'bothering the injured.' Pippin said, a picture of wide-eyed innocence. 'We were just wondering if Frodo would care for an apple or two.'

As Aragorn and Arwen laughed, an Elf approached them.

'Excuse me, lords and lady,' he said, 'but the head cook requests Lady Arwen's suggestions for tonight's feast.'

'Of course,' Arwen said, standing up. 'Have a good day, young friends.'

'Wonder if they would like my suggestions…' mused Pippin, as the Elves walked away.

'No kitchen in Middle-earth could live up to your suggestions, Pip,' snorted Merry. 'You have the appetite of… say, Strider, what's that on your neck?'

'My neck? A scar, perhaps,' Aragorn replied absently, gazing after the woman who had stolen his heart. Despite all the years, despite the distance, his heart always belonged to her, and Aragorn was glad, for he knew she would never break it…

'No, it's clearly a bite!' exclaimed Merry, making Aragorn start.

'Oh, maybe it was a Nazgul!' gasped Pippin. 'Are they poisonous? I'll be they are. You should show it to someone!'

Aragorn blinked. Bite mark?

'It's nothing… I… er… forget it…' he fumbled for words, going rather red.

'Don't be silly, Pippin,' chided Merry, ignoring Aragorn's stammers. 'The teeth seem quite small and even. It certainly wasn't a Nazgul. I think it was a wild animal. The skin isn't broken, but it still might get infected. Wild animal bites can be dangerous, Strider.'

The Man looked ready to flee. 'My friends, I tell you, it's nothing…'

'Aragorn has been bitten by a what?' came a voice behind them.

Aragorn groaned inwardly. Oh no, not YOU…

Legolas Thranduilion walked up to the trio with a worried look on his face.

'Let me see, mellon nin,' he said briskly. Before Aragorn could protest, long fingers pushed his head back, exposing his neck and also the mark.

The Elf made an odd sound that sounded suspiciously like a stifled chuckle. Aragorn shoved his Legolas's hands away and pulled up his collar, glaring.

'Well, what is it?' demanded the hobbits in unison.

'I'm not exactly sure,' started Legolas in a professional voice. 'It seems to be…

'Legolas, I'm an accomplished swordsman and I will not hesitate to use a weapon on an Elf!' Aragorn hissed.

'Why the hostility, my friend?' Legolas smiled sweetly. 'I was merely going to point out that this type of wounds is out of my area of expertise. I'm sure Lord Elrond can suggest a good salve for this.'

Aragorn calmly advised Legolas in elvish to engage in a certain odd activity.

'Is that physically possible?' inquired the Elf, shaking with mirth. The Man, on the other hand, was looking positively murderous.

'Ahem. Well? Is that bite dangerous or not?' Merry asked persistently.

'What bite?' came two new voices. Two horribly familiar voices.

Of course it had to be Elladan and Elrohir. As Elrond's twin sons looked questioningly at the four friends, Aragorn mentally thanked the Valar and the head cook of Rivendell for removing the culprit from the scene.

Pippin volunteered to explain.

'Something has bitten Strider! On the neck!'

Aragorn knew when it was time to take his leave. He remembered seeing the twins sharpen their long white knives just last night, and frankly, he did not see the point of an untimely death.

'My brothers, I assure you, it is nothing. Good day everyone.' The Ranger stood up and strode back towards the Homely Home, growling under his breath about naïve tweenagers from the Shire and sadistic praying mantises from Mirkwood.

'What in Arda…?' started Elladen.

'Trust me.' Legolas choked out between roars of laughter. 'You don't want to know.'

A/N: Don't forget to leave a review! J