Firstly, a note of thanks to everyone who reviewed, its makes me happy! And thanks to those of you who gave me ideas!

Check out my profile page for updates on what's happening with all my fics, including this one. There is also a plea for ideas for truths/dares - anything you've ever had done to you or done to someone else, I WANT TO KNOW!! If its particularly embarassing or rude, I won't mention your name, just email me... your secret is safe!

Thank you!

Dedication: LaLa, and ME132 for inspiring me to update sooner and write more, and also for some brilliant ideas that will be featured later on..... wait and you will see!

Chapter 2: The Chicken Dare

Arwen couldn't keep the grin off her face when she realised she'd well and truly beaten her husband. As he requested a dare, she knew he was trying to keep his voice even, trying to mask the fear. He was afraid of her, and she knew she had him right where she wanted him. All she had to do now was think of a suitable dare to begin their game. She didn't want to start it off with too outrageous dares, or as time went on it would become impossible to top each others' ideas. So she started mildly.

"I dare you to... behave like a chicken."

"A- A chicken? As in, a farmyard bird with feathers?" Aragorn looked more than apprehensive.

Arwen nodded and smiled.

"Do I have to?" He asked, trying to restrain the pleading in his voice.

She nodded again, her smile growing wider. "Of course you do. It's a dare."

He grimaced, then sighed when he remembered his wife would not be beaten so easily.

"Fine," he muttered, as he readied himself for the task ahead. "But I'll get you back, meleth. You'll regret this." He hoped his words sounded powerful, because really his mind had gone blank and all he could see were chickens.

"I'm sure I will," Arwen agreed falsely, knowing he was much more scared of her than he wanted to make out. "You may begin." She stepped back, smiling, and when he glared at her, she just waved her hand for him to start.

Feeling a bigger fool than anyone who had ever lived (or so he imagined), he crouched low and bent his arms, holding his hands to his chest and moving his elbows to behave like wings. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it well and show his wife that she could not put him off so easily. He took a step with his right foot, small and shaky, like the chickens he was seeing in his mind's eye. He bowed his head and let out a low moan, and tried to take another step when he was suddenly caught off balance without his arms to support him, and fell flat on his face in the grass.

Arwen burst into a fit of giggles, holding her stomach as the giggles transformed into painful, tear-conjuring laughter. When she finally got over the hilarity of her husband and his antics, she wiped her eyes to find him nowhere in sight. She turned around and saw him sat behind a large statue, head in hands, lower lip curled. He was sulking.

Putting on her most caring, considerate face she walked silently over to him. She stood watching him for a while, waiting for him to acknowledge her presence.

"Mela," he finally began, but Arwen reached out her hand and placed it over his lips, silencing his words.

"I will not say I am sorry for making you do that," she said evenly, looking straight into his eyes. "Although I feel I should apologise for laughing. It- never mind." She had been about to say "It was just one of the funniest things I have seen in ages," before realising that would not be the best way to go about the situation.

Aragorn couldn't work out whether she was being entirely serious in her apology. Saying sorry for something she intended was not something his wife did often to him, albeit she readily apologised to everyone else and always meant it. He sighed and Arwen smiled.

"What now?" He asked, his voice harsher than he intended.

She feigned innocence and sat down next to him, draping her arms around his neck and resting her head on his shoulder. She knew there was no way he would sit still and let her embrace go unnoticed. Indeed she was right again. He wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her towards him, holding her delicate frame tightly.

"You know how I always say Eldarion is so like you?" Arwen asked, relieved that the tension between them was gone, silently praising herself for handling the possibly dangerous situation so well. She knew that if her husband hadn't got over the first dare, he would storm off against all her wishes and that would be the end of their game. Then she would not be able to bestow all the other things she had planned onto him.

"Yes," Aragorn almost laughed.

"I think you've proved today that that is not true."

"Oh really?"

"I think it's the opposite." She paused for a moment to free herself from his arms as she knew that when he figured out what she meant he would not be too happy. But the King of Gondor was quicker than she estimated and he just held her tighter. Thinking he hadn't yet worked out the meaning behind her words and preparing herself for the playful slap she knew she would get, she said the next part. "I think you are like Eldarion."

Instead of reacting like she thought he would, Aragorn merely looked at her. Still his grip tightened around her as he said, "And why is that, my dear?"

Taken aback, Arwen said what she meant without thinking. "Well, when anyone laughs at him, he goes off and sulks. And likewise do y- " She cut off as a scream escaped her throat. Aragorn had reached across her, pinned her to the grass and started ticking her. "Estel! S-stop it!" Her laughter echoed throughout the garden, and she screamed louder and louder.

When Aragorn finally gave up his efforts, they were both breathless. "Never. do. that. again." Arwen breathed, smiling despite the fact she had just been outwitted by the man she was trying to outwit.

"Never make me act like a chicken then," he reasoned, still pinning her down with his body whilst his face was just above hers.

Arwen nodded, and suddenly everything was quiet. Even the birds in the summer sky seemed to have been silenced. All they could hear was Arwen's heavy breathing, and Aragorn felt her chest rising and falling quicker than usual beneath his.

"You know what?" He asked, his lips dangerously close to his wife's as he lowered himself further down.

"What?" She replied quietly, her gaze flicking from his eyes to his lips and back again.

"I wasn't really angry at all. I was pretending. Dancing like a chicken was fun. Looks like I win."

Arwen wasn't allowed time to register his words as suddenly thought gave way to nothingness in a fiery kiss, which took the breath from her lungs. Just when she thought she was about to dissolve in the moment, Aragorn pulled back. He sat up, then stood and took her hand. She accepted his offer, perplexed.

Kissing her softly he whispered, "Being tricked is not very nice, is it?" He ran the backs of his fingers over her cheek and said, "Truth or dare?"