*Hey! "Dragons or Ribbons" and this story have both been adopted and found a wonderful home at the Tower of Ecthelion web site, run by Maggie and Erin. If you haven't been there yet, it is an amazingly beautiful site with all kinds of amazing LOTR fan fiction (that quite frankly I'm not sure these stories deserve to stand with!). The graphic design for the site, as well as for all the stories posted there is absolutely amazing.
You have GOT to go see the title graphic for "Dragons or Ribbons" (made by Erin, I am pretty sure with input from Maggie) especially. It is guaranteed to make you laugh. I've considered setting it as my wallpaper it's so funny. The "Sneezes and Sword Fights" one is great too. And browse while you're there…you won't believe all the fantastic stories they have collected. There I go advertising again…but it's worth the visit!
Okay, so I figured out after posting this once that FF.net doesn't let you post web addresses. If you want to get to the site, it'll be a little complicated but totally worth it. Go to my "favorite authors" page, and click on "M. N. Theis." Then, click on her homepage link. That'll get you there. Read her stories too. She rocks.
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Chapter Five: House Call
"I do nod need the healerd!" Aragorn insisted, pausing as he hacked into his hands. "He alreddy camb to see be on the firsd day I wad sig. He said to restd. I ab restig!"
Arwen sighed deeply as she stood in the doorway of the sickroom, and did not miss the long suffering look Legolas gave her at her arrival.
"Well, he is here and he has taken time to make the trip, and you must see him," Arwen insisted, and walked into the room to stand at the foot of the bed.
"I will decide who I wad to seed! I ab nod a child!" Aragorn wailed.
"Well, that is good to hear as it means now you have leave to stop behaving like one. It grows wearisome." Arwen murmured, and Legolas snickered. From well behind her.
"I do nod like healerds!" Aragorn protested.
"You are a healer," Legolas reminded him.
"Mustd he still be hered?" Aragorn muttered. "Id there somethig else he could do? Go loog afder the childred?"
"Gimli is with the children," Arwen said quickly, and the hope that had flared up in Legolas' eyes sputtered out and he gave an audible sigh. He actually envied a dwarf. It was not a good indication of the state of his life at the moment.
"I miss by childred," Aragorn said, ignoring her. "How much longerd do I haf to stay here aload?"
"The healer will likely answer that," Arwen reasoned. "As soon as you have seen him. Which you will do."
Aragorn grumbled and pulled himself up on the sheets, squaring his shoulders and transforming himself from sullen child to dignified king for perhaps the very first time in three days.
"Sed himb to me," Aragorn commanded, as if it had been his idea. Arwen nodded to Legolas to fetch the healer waiting in the hallway.
The Warden of the House of Healing was the same man who had tended both Eowyn and Faramir as the Captains of the West rode to the last battle. He had been aged then; now he was quite ancient and he shuffled slowly into the room at the side of the elf, who adjusted his strides to match.
"My Lord, King Elfstone," he greeted Aragorn in his raspy voice as he came to the bedside and bowed, though his body was bent enough. "The city anxiously awaits your recovery."
"As do we all," Legolas muttered, with feeling, and then looked surprised when Aragorn gave him a quick, hot glare, as if he had not realized he spoke the words aloud.
"I ab much bedder," Aragorn assured the Warden and reached to take the hands the healer extended toward him in welcome. "I thig I cad go oud now."
"Nay, nay," said the Warden as he lay his hands-his very, very cold hands-against Aragorn's cheeks and forehead. "There is still a fire in your blood. You must wait until it burns itself out."
"How log will thad tag?" Aragorn asked impatiently.
"I would say you will be ready to leave your chambers in three or four days."
Aragorn ignored Legolas' small gasp of dismay. "I can nod leave the cidy withoud a Kig for thad log!"
"Estel, you forget. You had planned a hunting trip. Your advisors were already prepared to care for the city until the middle of next week," Arwen reminded him sweetly, and because the Warden was a man of genteel sensibilities, Aragorn did not respond immediately.
"Now then, lean forward a bit. I would be sure that there is no danger to your lungs or that your breathing is not impaired," the Warden smiled encouragingly and put his hand on Aragorn's shoulder as if he had the strength to pull him forward.
The Warden stepped behind Aragorn. "Let me know if this hurts."
Immediately Aragorn tensed and waited and felt a sharp pinching pain in his left shoulder blade.
"Thad hurds!" Aragorn gasped.
"My Lord. I have not done anything yet," the Warden murmured, "are you injured?"
"Only in his head," Legolas assured the Warden and watched Aragorn turn pink with embarrassment.
"Id wad just becausd I haf nod been permidded to move. I ab sore," he defended himself.
He did not look at Arwen or Legolas' suppressed smiles as the Warden gently probed his upper back and then listened to his breathing for long minutes.
"You are much better," the healer pronounced at last and Aragorn perked up.
"I ab bedder? I cad go now?"
"No, no. You are not that much better. You are still weakened and fevered."
"I ab weag becausd Legolad id starvig me! I ab fevered becausd he keebs id roastig in hered!"
"You had more to eat than I for dinner last night!" Legolas reminded him sharply. "And if I dare to try to steal a breath of fresh air, you begin to wail that you will catch death from cold."
Arwen cleared her throat ever so lightly, as if to remind Legolas and Aragorn that there were others in the room. The Warden looked shocked by the exchange between King and Prince.
Forcing a smile that Arwen knew better as a clenching of teeth, Aragorn waved a hand. "Id is no madder. My friend id very kid to ted to me in this hourd."
Rolling his eyes, Legolas nonetheless responded dutifully. "And it is my honor to be of service to the King." His eyes narrowed a bit as he looked from Aragorn to the healer. "But is there nothing you have, no tonic, that might speed his recovery? I would have the King back upon his feet and feeling fit as soon as possible."
"Yes, of course. I have brought medicine for the King. You must drink this in the morning after you eat and at night before you sleep, King Elfstone. I believe it will speed your recovery."
"Whad is id?" Aragorn asked doubtfully as the healer pulled a vial from his bag and set it on the table at Aragorn's side.
"Ground roots and herbs that may help you breathe easier and that may also lower your fever. In addition, you must continue to take your rest."
"Ad to ead, righd?" Aragorn pressed, giving Legolas a dark look.
"You should eat, of course, but eat lightly. Your stomach will be delicate. Soup or broth, a bit of bread, perhaps some dried fruit if you have any in your winter stores…" the Warden hesitated at the shadow that passed across the King's face. "My Lord? Is there anything wrong?"
"Nay," Aragorn muttered and sneezed. "Nothig."
"I will take my leave then," the Warden said and looking uncertainly from Aragorn to Legolas, as if he sensed the tension in the air and wished he didn't, began moving from the room. "I will come again in three days, unless you send for me before."
"Thank you so very much," Arwen told the man, coming forward to take his arm and smile down at him brightly enough to make the long, halting walk through the palace worth his while. Before she led him out of the door she threw both Legolas and Aragorn a scathing look and both fidgeted uncomfortably, clearly aware of the scolding they would later receive for their bad behavior.
When the door closed, Legolas motioned to Aragorn's bedside table. "Drink the tonic. Hurry. Perhaps it will make you better. Perhaps you should drink all of it."
"Id is so dice to know thad you are so concered for by recovery," Aragorn told Legolas, raising an eyebrow as he reached for the vile of blackish liquid. He titled it, noted with disgust how it coated the glass bottle as it rolled up the sides.
"Id loogs like blood," he observed and uncapped it. Even through his plugged nose, the sharp, acrid smell of the tonic reached him and his already watery eyes stung anew. Quickly he put the cork back in the top.
"Thad id foul! I will nod drig id!"
Legolas looked on in dismay, as if all his hopes in the world rested in the little glass vile.
"Oh, but you will drink it," the elf assured him. "You will drink it all and you will get better and we will both get out of this forsaken room sooner than three days hence!"
And for the first time in quite awhile, it seemed that the fair prince had the look of an assassin about him and Aragorn eyed his medicine doubtfully and hoped that Arwen came back very soon.
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I am aware that this chapter wasn't so hot. I was not able to bring the funny. However, to make up for it, I will try very hard to inflict much torture on both man and elf as Aragorn must literally take his own medicine in the next chapter.
Your reviews totally make me laugh more than this story does. I've got the better end of this deal!
Now, for the important part:
TrinityC: Yes…he's a prophet too. This elf has it all. Sigh. I still haven't decided if I will let him murder Aragorn just yet. Maybe if I get really, really tired of cold speak?
Whitestar: Thank you so much! I love it that this actually is making some people laugh. LOVE IT! Before Dragons or Ribbons I never tried writing anything comical, unless it was just a bit in an overall dramatic story. This is totally new for me and it's surprising how rewarding people like you have made it for me.
Laura: LOL. Hee. I kind of liked the Kig thing too. I'll try to keep him saying it!
Jambaby: Tell you what…if Legolas refrains from killing the Kig (See that Laura, I said it again), you can give him a medal! Deal?
Dragon-of-the-North: Well, no…the truce, not so much a long term thing at all. It was nice while it lasted, I'm sure, in the blank air space between chapters 3 and 4. I have decided that evil Legolas and childish Aragorn are the most fun pair to write EVER. Everyone should do it. And I wish I knew a real elvish curse…for my own everyday life! It would come in handy.
Putting to death the elf-lord of Ithilien, the son of a reigning sovereign?! Think of the diplomatic consequences...Ah, but it opens it up for a grand sequel. The war between Gondor and the elf realms. And some marital tension too, I would guess. But who would care for Aragorn when he's sick?
Mouse: You know, I think Legolas would like the idea of spiking the tea with something to make Aragorn sleep…forever! Men. Can't live with them, but they can fix things.
Joanna: (a fine name!) Don't worry. When the snot and coughing stops, he'll be back to his old sexy self. I could never keep him from that forever!
Dot: Okay, I already told Pie this, but you should control the laughter if you have roommates, family, etc. I don't want you people to be hauled off! I'm enjoying the reviews too much! And yes, I feel the level of hostility growing exponentially as well. There's nothing I can do to stop it at this point, I'm afraid.
Suze: Hi there! You are certainly forgiven for not reviewing until you found the story. No one else out there is though! :-D You were laughing so hard you couldn't see the screen! Really? Then I'm going to forget angst! I mean, I'm easily amused, so it's nice to know there are others out there. Anyone want to start a club with me?
Pie: They are SO coming to get you now, you know. Friends, family…they all know you've lost it. I cracked up at your Gimli realizing they'll be hunting each other comment. LOL! What did you give Legolas a bat for! Now the whole palace is going to be taken out! Great. Wish me luck at prying it out of his hands before the start of the next chapter and in explaining why Aragorn has a bit ole dent in his head.
Teresa: I never thought cold speak would go over like it has! I think everyone should write a story in cold speak now. Just don't tell anyone what it is, see what reviewers say. I'm so glad you're enjoying the story.
Soul: It has been my experience that all men (and elves) when it comes down to it, still have the mind of an eight year old. Hee. I'm not a man hater! You'd think so from my comments to these reviews though, wouldn't you?
Mari: Well, I'm an idiot. The sad thing is, it's not like I just read the reviews once. I read them when they come in, then again when I respond to them (and sometimes in between when I need a little laugh or pick me up), and I STILL didn't read that sentence right. Too many words going on in my head all the time with all the reading I do for class or something. Or I'm just an idiot, which was my first (and most probable) conclusion! Thanks! Of course I think you (I?) had it right in my mind….the cold speak isn't always so great! And you are right, the dinner stealing was entirely uncalled for. You can certainly understand Legolas' murderous intentions as a result though. Alas. He is a still a saint in my eyes.
Platinum-Rose-Lady: **snort** **quick look around to see if anyone heard the unladylike sound** **memory that I live with a dog who is bored with me and is sleeping on my pillow as if she belongs there** You crack me up every time. And aren't you a forward thinking individual with the pillows? I'm so impressed. And as far as Aragorn and Whiny…if anyone can write whiny men, that would be me. There I go with the man bashing again. Wow. I need to devote some time to this issue.
Artemis: Stop it with the cold talk already! You're making me jealous because you are clearly better at it than I am! Of course if the result is having to deal with a cold (unless Legolas is coming to look after me or unless I get to be Aragorn's bed--er, um--roommate) maybe I'm okay with average cold speak. Eddyway…I think I tried to cold speak that one several times and couldn't get it right and there it is, just taunting me in your review, hope you feel better!
LegyLuva: I'm glad you're still liking it. And the story. Wasn't sure how that level of violence would go over…clearly everyone here has dealt with a whiny older brat with a snotty nose before and can sympathize.
Arwen Undomiel: Thanks so much! Hee. Everyone has a cold but me, the one who needs one for research (no, no, no, **throws salt over shoulder, turns around and spits to ward off any cold bug that heard that**). I hope you still like the story after this chapter!
Michelle Frodo: Welcome to the dark side…i.e. Legolas/Aragorn fiction! That LegyLuva…she doesn't sound much more helpful than Legolas! Maybe you should find a way to eat her dinner one of these days. I hope you feel better and I'm very glad you liked the story! (Just tell her you ARE the Kig…or the Queed)
Estelcontar: Okay, so the Aragorb was actually something that one of the other reviewers left in a review (meant to say thanks Semmerie!)…other than that, my guess is that I think it up out of pure insanity. I mean, really. Who else could amuse themselves for hours sitting in front of the computer and acting like she has a cold, or driving around town thinking of what to do to Aragorb next…for FUN?