Legolas timidly braided the whipped strands of brown hair into a tight strand, biting his lip thoughtfully. Aragorn slept soundly, blissfully unaware of what was going on. The Elven prince chewed on his lower lip, finishing his task and setting to attack another portion of his husband's hair. Shifting his body, Legolas managed not to wake the sleeping king when he tried to straddle his chest. Succeeding, he worked his fingers into the burly hair.

Aragorn awoke with a start, hearing a yelp sound from above him. Staring directly at a deep green midsection, he blinked before tilting his head up to see the pale face of Legolas panicking and falling backward. Sitting up quickly, Strider reached out his hand to the fallen Elf. "May I ask what you were doing, or is that information I would rather not acquire?"

The Elf lifted his head momentarily to lock eyes with the King of Gondor. "I'm afraid that's a secret." With that he dropped back against the covers.

Feeling the new braids in his hair, Aragorn snorted and began to rid of them, all the while eyeing his partner. "What happened to you, or shall I not ask?"

Legolas flipped himself over, rising to his elbows and dangling his legs off the side of the bed. With a dirty grin on his face, he slyly replied, "I was rudely awakened by SOMEBODY hogging the blankets."

"Liar." Aragorn gruffly smoothed the satin sheets back down. "I don't especially enjoy waking up to some unlikely body parts shoved in my face," he responded hotly, flashing a haughty grin.

The Mirkwood prince purred innocently, crawling over to touch noses. "Yes, you do."

"I do not."

"Do too."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Do n... aaauuugghhh... stoppit..."

Legolas giggled shamelessly, sliding his arms around Strider's chest. Playfully, he rubbed his body against Aragorn's sensually, pressing warm kisses against his exposed neck. Curling up around him, the Elf stroked the silk shirt loosely hanging on Aragorn's body. "Hmm... looks like you have a little weakness for cuddling, mm?"

Growling in his throat, Strider pulled the lithe body closer. "It's not my fault I have a major liking for Elves," he mumbled, burying his nose in the soft blonde hair. Legolas sighed.

Silence engulfed them.

"Even so, I still want to cover you from head to foot in bittersweet chocolate syrup and slowly lick it off..."

"...are you hinting me?"

"No, I'm teasing you."

"Damn."

~***~

Keen eyes narrowing dangerously at the sight of a slight movement, she swung down from her high perch soundlessly to drawn nearer. Rounding the tree shaft, her eyes shifted from the leaves to the unaware beings below her. Grinning smugly to herself, she snaked herself around the shaft, her fingernails scraping against the tree bark.

Drawing her knife from its sheath, the Elven girl leapt from branch to branch with amazing agility. Nearer and nearer came the beautiful pillars that gave away the fact that she was indeed close to Rivendell. Landing softly on the beam of a balcony, she crouched low to peer into the vast hallways. Climbing down quietly, she walked without a sound down the hall, lethal knife still drawn and in her thin hand.

Finding the one person she was seeking, she slipped into a tight crevice, awaiting her chance.

~***~

Elrond cleared his throat loudly, leaning against the doorframe casually. Aragorn looked pitifully up from his sitting position on the floor, where a bloody game of Elven Chess raged across the board. Legolas' king brutally attacked Strider's own, ending the game neatly before the Elven king could speak.

"If you two are willing to know, there's been word of an assassin on the loose," Elrond said dryly. "It's a woman, none the less--and Elven woman, so to speak."

"So should we be on the lookout for Frodo and the other Hobbits and make sure they arrive safely?"

"It would be wise," was the reply. "And also to take special care of yourselves."

Legolas laughed good-naturedly. "Are you implying that an assassin would be after one of us?"

"Indeed," Elrond said. Smirking, he added, "But I would advise finding another bodyguard than yourselves."

"You're such a spoilsport, Lord Elrond," Strider accused. "Spoilsport."

"Even so, I want you to be careful, understood?"

"Yes, daddy," Legolas mocked, earning a deadening glare from the other Elf.

"Mind your manners, Prince of Mirkwood," Elrond scolded gently. Legolas wrinkled up his nose.