Disclaimer: I own nothing.

"He's tiny," Legolas said in awe.

A deep hearty laugh. "Most of them are."

The prince ignored his friend with the ease of long practice. "I do not believe I was ever that small."

"I knew it!" Aragorn would have snapped his fingers if not for the precious bundle in his arms.

Legolas gave him a quizzical look. "Knew what?"

"That elves are born full-grown."

"Of course we are," Legolas agreed. "But I don't think you were ever that small either."

"And you were there at my birth, naturally."

"Your point."

"He is tiny, though," Aragorn conceded, looking down at his firstborn son. "Somehow I never realized that children actually grow."

"How did you think that you became tall, then?"

"Everything around me shrank." The king cradled Eldarion close, then looked to his longtime friend. "Would you like to hold him?"

A smile blossomed across Legolas's face as he accepted the baby. "He looks just like you, you realize."

"I think not!" Aragorn said, affronted. "I fancy myself a little taller and less . . . young."

"You are yet a child, Estel."

"Quiet," Aragorn grumbled. "I'm older than most men's grandfathers."

"Child." Legolas laughed. "How is Arwen doing?"

"Oh, she's fine. She is ready."

The prince looked at him closely. "And you are not?"

Half-shrugging, Aragorn stroked his son's cheek. "I – I've never done this before."

"And here I thought you had."

"I know not whether I have the strength," Aragorn continued, his eyes far away, "To care for one so helpless – " To Legolas's dismay, the man was crumbling slightly before his eyes. "I don't know if I can do this."

"You said much the same before your coronation," Legolas reminded him. "The first king of Gondor in millennia. Remember?"

A slight shake of the head. "No."

"Men have such poor memories," Legolas sighed.

"Selective memory," Aragorn corrected, glancing up. "I conserved the storage space for a pleasant recollection, thank you."

"Do you remember what I told you?" Legolas persisted.

"No. What?"

The elf scrutinized his pensive face, quite sure that he did remember. "I said that you brought four hobbits safely to Rivendell – "

"I would not call it 'safely,'" Aragorn protested readily.

"Led the Fellowship after Gandalf fell," Legolas went on, "and – perhaps the most difficult task of all – you took care of me all those years." He caught and held the man's eyes before Aragorn could object. Yes, mellon-nin, you did.

"Aye," the king said reluctantly, "but you have never been so helpless, Legolas."

Legolas raised and lowered one shoulder. "Perhaps. Or perhaps you are slightly biased. I certainly attract more trouble than your son will ever manage."

"Unless he gets it from me," Aragorn fretted.

The elf suppressed a sigh. "He is Arwen's son too," he said lightly. "Between the two of you, he should turn out relatively normal." Expertly he ducked the man's swat, Eldarion held securely to his chest, and came up characteristically turning serious. "He shall grow up in peace, Estel. He has you to thank for that."

Aragorn flushed a deep red. "I – "

"I am scolding you for being an imbecile," Legolas interrupted, "and you are not allowed to contradict me." Glancing down at the boy in his arms, he added, "He is beautiful, Estel."

"Yes," the king said quietly. He held out his arms, and Legolas carefully transferred the boy back into them. Aragorn rocked his son close, entranced by the tiny, perfect features. "Yes, he is."

Legolas smiled. "You're infatuated."

"Perhaps," Aragorn said indifferently. Eldarion's eyes blinked open now, and the boy stared at his father for a moment before starting to fuss. "Shh," Aragorn whispered, "it's all right." He bounced the baby gently against his shoulder and patted his back until he quieted, content to explore his ada's hair.

"See," Legolas murmured, "you know exactly what to do."

Aragorn grinned wickedly and turned his son around to see the elf. "Look, Eldarion, it's your Uncle Legolas."

Legolas turned rather pink when the child reached for him, fascinated by his long blond tresses. "Strider – " he protested half-heartedly as Aragorn held his son up to play with the elf's hair.

"He likes you," the man told him.

"But I haven't done anything."

"Your point?"

Eldarion gurgled and pulled hard on a blond lock, making Legolas wince. "He's strong for an infant."

"I'm told they all are."

"Perhaps," the prince suggested, prying tiny fingers off his hair, "Eldarion would like to go back to his mother."

Eldarion, who now had a grip on Legolas's thumb, made it clear vocally just what he thought of that idea.

"I'm telling you, he understands every word we say," Aragorn muttered.

"He's hungry," Legolas corrected.

"Who is his father?" the king asked in mock indignation over the baby's wails. He bounced the baby against his chest and started for the door. "I'm going to find Arwen!"

-finis-

Shamelessly begging. Reviews will improve my current hectic life (one week and my two major research projects will be OVER . . . ) 3 periphery