Disclaimer: LOTR belongs to the creative genius of JRR Tolkien, not me.

An Elf, A King and Blueberry Tarts.

"That was the last meeting for the day, your Majesty," said Faramir as he quickened his step to keep pace with Elessar who strode purposefully from the audience room towards the privacy of his study. The sound of hard leather soles being pressed forcefully against the highly polished stone floor echoed loudly throughout the hallway, signalling to those who knew their King well that he was not in the best of moods. An all too common occurrence in recent times, so most of his friends agreed, as he settled into the more mundane aspects of being the King of Gondor and Arnor.

"And not a moment too soon for my liking!" declared Elessar with a black look at the appointment scroll Faramir was carrying.

"I am afraid that you may not always do as you wish. You still have several petitions to read and sign before the banquet this evening," Faramir dared to say, reading from the scroll as he walked. His Steward often bore the brunt of Elessar's moodiness, and as the King's friend, he was usually given licence to speak plainly. Not today, however.

"Have you nothing better to do than plague me with petitions and meetings and fancy meals? And how dare you speak to me with such disrespect?" asked Elessar angrily.

"Sire, your duties lie at the palace this day, as you well know. It may not be to your liking, but there will be other days suitable for hunting," said Faramir patiently, and patently ignoring the outburst of temper from his King. Elessar was in a foul mood because he had been forced to once again refuse an offer to join Legolas and Gimli in a day's hunting in favour of his courtly responsibilities.

"And it appears to me that you enjoy seeing to it that I do not avoid them. Surely I deserve a brief respite?" he asked, his anger still close to the surface and his frustration evident when, as they reached the heavy wooden doors that lead to the chamber he regarded as his sanctuary, he flung them open and pushed past his guards as he marched into the room. Faramir smiled an apology to the guards for the King's discourteous behaviour before he gently closed the doors behind them.

"It is my task to assist my King in the performance of his duties, but it is definitely not always a pleasure," replied Faramir in a long-suffering tone of voice that caused Elessar to raise an eyebrow. "However, whilst hunting with your friends is not on the agenda, perhaps a glass of wine will offer you the respite you seek?" he suggested as he moved over to the cabinet in the corner and poured them both a glass of wine.

Elessar sat in the armchair that was behind his desk and sighed heavily as he cast an uninterested glance over the layers of correspondence, petitions, maps and such like that covered the top of what was the centrepiece of the room; the enormous and intricately carved stone desk that had been a coronation gift from Gimli.

The stone legs of the table were thick and strong, and carved to resemble two halves of a huge tree trunk, centred at each end, with wide branches at the top forming the brackets on which the desktop rested. This in itself was a work of art, for embedded in the highly polished, smooth black stone were seven bright stars surrounding a crown, all made with mithril and shining unceasingly.

"It will have to suffice, and have no fear, my dear Faramir, I will be in a better humour this evening. Arwen will make certain of it, I suspect," Elessar replied almost graciously, smiling at his friend as they raised their glasses in a silent toast to the beautiful but formidable Queen. "What is this?" asked Elessar as his eye lighted on an unopened letter bearing the distinctive elvish script and leaf shaped emblem that denoted it was from Legolas.

"It must have arrived by messenger from Ithilien while we were in council," said Faramir with a slight shrug. "Perhaps it is another invitation to hunt?"

Elessar set his wine down and almost tore the parchment in half in his haste to read the note. It had been only a few weeks since the invitation he was forced to refuse this day had arrived, but he was always eager for news from his friend. Legolas had such a way with words that, even if the news was unwelcome, it would be delivered in a palatable, if not outrageously humorous manner. A letter from his beloved friend was one of the few things, aside from the Elf's presence or a smile from the lovely Arwen that could instantly lighten Elessar's dark moods. Faramir looked away to allow his King some privacy until he heard the sound of the parchment being folded and placed in a pocket. He turned back to see that an enigmatic smile had replaced the rather sour look that had marred his King's features all day.

"Good news, I hope Sire?" he asked politely, judging correctly that it was and silently thanking Legolas for his excellent timing.

"What? Ai, yes," replied Elessar quickly refocussing his thoughts but withholding the news. "I think I am ready for those petitions you mentioned," he said, almost eagerly. Faramir selected a pile of papers and placed them on the desk in front of his King.

"If you no longer require me, Sire, I will see to the final arrangements for this evening," he said bowing respectfully as he took his leave.

"Should I need your excellent advice or assistance, I will be sure to send for you," replied Elessar pleasantly as he picked up the first petition and began to read. Seeing no reason not to approve the establishment of a new healing house in the outreaches of the farming lands, he signed and sealed the document, then took the letter from his pocket and read it once more.

Mellon nin,

I am astounded that you could not use your royal influence to attend the hunt with Gimli and I, although as I am the son of a King I clearly understand the constraints of your position. (Faramir is very conscientious is he not? My Adar's Steward is of like temperament!).

Since a simple invitation was not sufficient to secure your freedom for the day, I hereby issue a challenge for the night.

BLUEBERRY TARTS!!!

You know to what I refer, and I know you will not refuse!

Look for me by the light of the full moon,

Legolas

Elessar carefully refolded the note again, and laughed out loud as he did indeed recall the meaning of the challenge, and the certainty with which it had been issued. Legolas knew him too well, knew that he could not refuse. The task he was charged with was to steal blueberry tarts from the kitchen without being seen or caught. The challenge was the same one that a young Estel had issued to a young Legolas the first time the Elf had stayed at Imladris. He had done so to in an attempt to help Legolas overcome his despair as his mother travelled to the Havens. It had relieved the sadness for a short while, and even though Estel could simply have asked for the tarts and been given them, somehow they had seemed sweeter when they were taken from under the Cook's very nose.

Legolas had not been caught, and they had taken turns at making the same challenge to each other whenever Legolas had come to Imladris. On their last night together before they had gone their separate ways it was Legolas who had been challenged to steal the tarts. The following day Legolas had returned to help in the defence of Mirkwood and Aragorn went to learn the life of a Ranger. It was the last time the challenge had been issued for their paths had not crossed again until the day Aragorn brought Gollum to Mirkwood.

It was now Elessar's turn to accept what, as the one time Ranger was well aware, was an extremely childish and ridiculous challenge for one of his station. However, he felt compelled to do so for there was also that which appealed very much to the free spirit that seemed to be imprisoned inside the King. He was sure Legolas knew this as well, and Elessar understood that it was simply an invitation to make mischief as they had once often done, to return for a few hours to the carefree days of their youth. Before he realised it, Elessar was already planning how to accomplish this latest and most delightfully amusing mission. Of course, once he had possession of the tarts, he knew that Legolas would demand his share, and if nothing else were gained by the evening's nonsense, he would at least be able to spend some time in the company of a friend he missed very much.

With his mood decidedly more cheerful, he quickly finished dealing with the petitions, and feeling a little stiff from sitting so long, poured himself some more wine and wandered out onto the balcony to stretch his legs and watch the setting sun turn the towers of the White City to shades of pink and gold. There were no clouds in the sky, and in the fading light the pale orb of the full moon could just be seen on the horizon.

"Well timed, indeed, mellon nin," he thought, still wondering just how he would accomplish the task Legolas had set, and at the same time maintain his dignity. A knock on the door, and a few words of summons drew his thoughts back to his plans for the evening and he quickly made his way to his sleeping chambers where he joined Arwen as they made themselves ready for the banquet.

"I received a letter from Legolas today," he commented as he helped Arwen with the clasp of her necklace.

"I suspected as much, for your mood is certainly less foul than it was earlier," she said gently as she turned in his arms to face him. "What did he have to say?"

"Nothing of import, just a touch of his usual humour," he replied evasively. He did not wish to deceive Arwen, but part of the challenge was the secrecy involved.

"'Tis a pity he did not accept your invitation to the banquet," she said taking his arm as they walked towards the banquet hall.

"He and Gimli went hunting, but I daresay they may decide to attend, especially if Legolas releases whatever it is they catch," said Elessar, knowing that Legolas would definitely appear later in the evening. "As I recall, the last time we hunted together, he spent several hours talking to the doe Gimli had his eye on for his evening meal, before, much to the Dwarf's annoyance he let her return to the woods." Whilst he enjoyed the thrill of the hunt, the Elf would allow only one kill for food, preferring to leave the creatures of the wood alive.

"I would expect nothing less from our sweet, gentle Legolas, but I can imagine how upset Gimli might have been, he has an appetite much like a Hobbit," laughed Arwen. "Let us hope their hunger does bring them to us, for it has been far too long since we had the pleasure of their company."

"I think it is fair to say that my Lady longs more for the pleasure of dancing with the fair Thranduilion than for polite conversation with friend Gimli," teased Elessar as they entered the banquet hall after being formally announced.

"Perhaps that is so, but you can not deny that your good humour is restored whenever Legolas visits," she agreed with a smile, kissing his cheek lightly as he helped her take her seat.

"Faramir!" he called beckoning his Steward to his side. "Would you and your lovely wife kindly keep Arwen company for a few minutes, there is something I need to attend to?" he asked, gallantly taking Eowyn's hand and kissing it before turning to bow slightly to Arwen as he took his leave. The look she gave him made him feel decidedly uncomfortable, and he wondered if she knew of his plans although there was no good reason to think she might. However, Arwen simply smiled and then turned to welcome Éowyn.

*******

Elessar found it more difficult than he expected to simply leave the banquet hall, for everyone he passed wished to offer greetings, or speak to him of matters that concerned them, and it was more than fifteen minutes before he actually found himself in the hallway that lead to the kitchens. He found a small alcove in which to hide as a steady stream of servants bearing platters of delicious looking appetisers and freshly baked bread rolls began the journey to the banquet hall.

Deciding that he would easily be seen and recognised in his finery, Elessar thought for a moment before the solution came to him. He quickly ran up the back staircase and through the now deserted passage that led to his chambers. Reaching into his wardrobe, he grabbed hold of the elven cloak that the Galadhrim had gifted him in Lothlórien, and wrapped it around his shoulders. Once in the dark of night, he would be almost invisible, and could quickly accomplish his goal without detection.

Rather than approach the kitchen from the inside, and in keeping with the implied intent of the challenge, he chose to climb down the vine that wound its way from the garden below to the railings of his balcony and made directly for the outside entry. He crouched low, and was pleased to see that the objects he was seeking were, as he had suspected, cooling on the shelf near the open windows. Wrapping the elven cloak closer around his body, he ran swiftly and silently to the window and relieved the shelf of four of the blueberry tarts that everyone had come to know were a particular favourite of the King. No banquet menu was complete without them, and Elessar found he could not resist taking an extra one of the delicious pastries to taste immediately. The filling was still bubbling hot, and he burned the roof of his mouth, but enjoyed every morsel of the dessert.

He quickly returned to his study, being careful to avoid being seen and secreted the blueberry tarts in one of the desk drawers before returning his cloak to his chambers. As he turned to leave, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror behind Arwen's dressing table, and laughed heartily at the face flushed with triumph and the disbelieving eyes that stared back at him.

"What strange power did the mischievous Wood Elf have over him that could cause the King of Gondor and Arnor behave in such a childish fashion?" he wondered as he walked quickly back to the banquet hall to take his seat beside Arwen. The deep bond of friendship and brotherly love that they shared that apparently also extended to a love of mischief and an equally wicked sense of humour, he answered himself. They were kindred spirits, of that he had no doubt.

The evening wore on and after a sumptuous meal, including blueberry tarts and freshly whipped cream for dessert, Elessar eagerly joined in the dancing that Arwen loved so well. So engrossed was he in the beauty of the one in his arms as they followed the intricate, and at times energetic dance steps, that he did not hear the gasp of surprise as Legolas and Gimli arrived unannounced. Thus he was quite startled when he felt the light touch of a well-known hand on his shoulder and a soft voice whisper,

"May I dance with the lovely Evenstar, Aragorn?" Legolas was one of the few who still addressed him by that name, for that was who he was to the Elf.

"Legolas! I am pleased to see you have changed your mind!" exclaimed Arwen as she willingly changed partners. Legolas acknowledged the brief wink from his friend, and the slight incline of his head that told him the challenge had been accepted.

"And I am pleased to be here, Arwen. Shall we show the men and women of Gondor how to dance?" he asked as he swirled her gaily around the dance floor.

"They certainly make a lovely couple," commented Gimli as Elessar joined him at the table. "It would not be asking too much to expect that there was still some of the excellent fare remaining?" he asked.

"If one did not know better, one would think you were a Hobbit with an appetite such as yours," teased Elessar as he beckoned to one of the servants to see to Gimli's plate.

"I am definitely not a Hobbit, just a hungry Dwarf who made the unfortunate mistake of hunting with the Elf. Legolas seeks to make friends of the creatures of the woods, rather than a hearty stew!" he declared loudly to the amusement of those around him.

"There were more than enough roots and berries to make a satisfying meal," said Legolas as he and Arwen swirled by before disappearing into the crowd on the dance floor.

"Humph, nosy Elf!" snorted Gimli at the interruption before continuing his diatribe. "He not only befriends the animals, but shares their meals!" exclaimed Gimli in mock disgust. Aragorn smiled sympathetically at the Dwarf's blustering, and watched the dancers in silence while Gimli ate his fill. The musicians decided to take a well deserved rest so Legolas and Arwen returned to the table.

"I was not aware that there was anything that could dissuade Aragorn from a course of action once his mind was set," Legolas was saying, obviously commenting on something Arwen and he were discussing in regard to Aragorn.

"Not in matters of import, I agree, but he does have a weakness for blueberry tarts," said Arwen innocently as she took her seat beside her husband. Legolas and Aragorn exchanged a surprised glance. "I believe both you and my dear husband often availed yourselves of the freshly baked pastries at Imladris in your younger days," she added, the mischievous gleam in her eyes telling them their secret was known at least to one other.

"You would be wise not to give too much credit to the stories you have heard, my dear Arwen, especially if the source happened to be those wicked brothers of yours," replied Legolas earning himself a playful slap on the arm from his dance partner.

"Their reputation in Lothlórien was no worse than yours," she said lightly. "However, it is a shame you arrived so late, my dear Legolas, for there are none of the blueberry tarts left."

"Are you certain?" he asked her with a wicked grin in Aragorn's direction, eliciting a less than friendly glare from the King that Legolas ignored completely as he spoke again to Arwen. "It is such a lovely night, and the moon is full and bright, if you will excuse me, I will take a walk in the gardens. Perhaps you will allow Aragorn to join me?"

"Of course, I am sure you two have much news to share," she said. "I would be pleased to spend some time in Gimli's company."

*********

The two friends walked slowly out into the coolness of the night air, saying nothing until they were well away from others who were also seeking the beauty of the moonlit night.

"So where are they?" asked Legolas without preamble.

"Somewhere safe, but before I take you there, I would hear your reason for the challenge?" Argon asked.

"None other than to provide you with a brief respite from the burdens of kingship for a short while," replied Legolas honestly, gripping Aragorn's' shoulder affectionately with one hand as he looked piercingly into his friend's eyes. "Did you not enjoy the adventure?"

"You know I did, although it is long since I have behaved like a child," declared Aragorn, unable to hide the amused smile or the delight in his eyes.

"By elvish reckoning you are barely more than one now," teased Legolas. "In which case I would consider your behaviour this night to be nothing out of the ordinary."

"Did you know that Arwen knew of our escapades in Imladris? She was rarely ever there at the same time I was," asked Aragorn, suddenly reminded of his wife's words.

"Nay, but as I said, it is likely that she learned the information from her brothers," said Legolas with a shrug. "It is of no matter, then or now. What matters now are the delicious blueberry tarts baked especially for the King, which I am certain she suspects we may have in our possession."

"Then we must leave the moonlight for the sanctuary of my study and destroy the evidence before she decides to question us further," said Aragorn taking his co-conspirator by the arm as he led the way through the back passages from the kitchen. They swiftly reached the room and Aragorn strode straight over to his desk opened the drawer containing the tarts. The deliciously well-known aroma wafted in the air, whetting their appetites and Legolas sat at the desk in the chair opposite and eagerly accepted his share of the spoils.

"I must remember to offer my congratulations to the cook, these are the most delicious pastries she has baked," he said as he delicately nibbled into the sweet fruity centre.

"I do not think that wise, for that would surely give us away," warned Aragorn. Legolas studied his friend for a moment and sighed, the responsible King was never far from the surface.

"Ai, and that could prove to be an interesting, if not amusing situation," mused Legolas, sounding to Aragorn as if he might actually confess just to see what would happen.

"You may relish your reputation as a mischievous Elf, but I have my dignity to maintain," said Aragorn, ignoring the silvery laughter that followed that statement. "Stealing pastries from the kitchen is not the act of a responsible, respected King, after all," he added with a grin as he licked the last of the filling from his fingers.

"You think not?" asked Legolas as he walked over to the cabinet where Aragorn kept his wine and poured them both a glass. "Would you regard Thranduil as a responsible and well respected King?"

"Most assuredly," declared Aragorn, wondering at the wicked gleam that had appeared in the eye of the King of Eryn Lasgalen's son.

"Even the time when Adar satisfied his craving for warm apple and cinnamon pie in a similar manner?" asked Legolas with an affectionate smile for a fond memory, and the raucous laughter and tears of mirth that washed the cares from his friend's face at the image his words conjured.