He looked a sight, Aragorn mused as he silently stood still and glowered. Usually after a battle, Legolas looked as composed as ever, only a few strands of hair out of place, but this time? This time was different. He was rather disheveled, covered in dirt and blood—not his own, Aragorn noted with a rush of relief—and a crude, sulky expression on his face. Ai! The audacity of his elf!

Aragorn almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation. Here was Legolas, his bratling elf, under his stern gaze after having trekked off by himself to approach the very same group of Orcs Aragorn had ordered him not to.

And Legolas clearly knew that, for 'neath all the dirt and blood, his blue eyes glimmered with what seemed to be a mixture of guilt and defiance and longing.

Ohhh, Aragorn knew what he was longing for. He had been in Legolas' position an uncountable number of times by now. There was always, always a reason for acting out. And now Legolas wanted—expected—him to get to the bottom of it for him, because he could not do it for himself. Aragorn would. If Legolas vocalized the thoughts that Aragorn already knew was running through his head, he would even give him a full, detailed explanation of his plan.

But of course, Legolas would not say such words. Nay, to do so brought an overwhelming feeling of shame and embarrassment upon him. It was likely that e'en over his lap with his bottom turning a cherry-red shade, it would take some… convincing to make him confess such matters.

But no matter. Aragorn would attend.

Neither one of them spoke a word, not yet. It was intentional. It was routine. To fall out of that routine would be alarming. So, Aragorn took the time to study Legolas' expression once again, noting how it changed the longer the silence went on.

Surprised. Petulant. Unsure. And—oh, there it was again. Guilty.

Good. Legolas should very much be feeling guilty indeed. Aragorn still remembered the flash of fear he'd felt when Halbarad and Osben returned with no sight of his beloved elf.

Aragorn had rushed right up to them and demanded, "Where is he?"

Halbarad gave him a slow, confused blink. Then, realization dawned upon his handsome, ragged face and he spun on his heel to examine the camp. There was no sight of Legolas, not a single strand of his golden hair. With a mighty scowl growing on his face, he'd turned back to Aragorn and growled deep in his throat. "I told that bratling elf to return here immediately. I vow he did not."

"Aye, sir, indeed he did not," Aragorn agreed grimly. "I presume he had valid cause to be trekking through the forest by himself?" He knew Halbarad would have a good reason; his lieutenant would not defy his explicit orders without one.

"There was an… incident. I trusted he was not lying to me when he asked for some time alone. His pretty eyes were filled with real tears, too real to be a part of a lie. Neither 'ben nor I saw him after that." Halbarad flashed a quick glance at Osben, who was staring at the ground, looking lost in thought—or rather, looking like he was trying to be.

There'd been a small silence. Aragorn exchanged a look with Halbarad, who gave a small, barely noticeable nod. Their youngest Ranger knew something.

Osben was a terrible liar. The worst Aragorn had ever seen, and that included himself! His sparkling hazel eyes simply dampened into a dull brown, and he positively deflated when he was hiding something. And the most noticeable symptom of all: he never, ever dared to meet Halbarad's or Elion's eyes.

So of course, Halbarad did what was only right in this case. He reached out, gripped poor, sweet little Osben's chin with his thumb and index finger, and tipped his flushed face up. "Osben," Halbarad said in a tone that made even Aragorn shiver, "Perhaps there is something you wish to share with us."

And ai! Osben had the audacity to keep up with his lie! A brave—and foolish—choice. "No, Sir. Nothing."

"Osben."

"Aye, Sir."

"Are you sure you're telling the truth?"

"Mhm."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Yes. I-I am. Mhm."

"Hm." Halbarad turned to Aragorn. "Most interesting, my lord. Don't you agree?"

Aragorn recognized that dangerous glint in Halbarad's eye. It seemed Legolas would not be the only one to end up with a sore bottom by the end of the day. "Aye, Sir. Interesting indeed."

"W-What's interesting?" Osben squeaked, eyes darting between them.

Halbarad grinned, shark-like. "You." Then, he'd yanked Osben close, gripping him firmly under an arm, and landed a few hard swats.

Osben bellowed. "Sir! OW! H-Halbarad! Not—not here! Oh, for Valar's sake—"

The combination of the embarrassment of being swatted like a little boy in front of the Company and the guilt he was inevitably feeling ensured that Osben did not take long to blather out the truth, sputtering that he'd met Legolas hiking through the woods.

Halbarad released him and muttered, "We are not finished yet, Ozzy."

Osben sniffled.

They set off on their Legolas hunt after that.

The entire time they were tracking him, Aragorn found his mind full of thoughts. Aye, he knew that Legolas was more than capable of defending himself if need be; he was probably the most capable out of them all with his elvish flair and skill, but… he couldn't help imagine all the possibilities. Darkness had been spreading quickly and easily lately; Aragorn was determined to rid these lands of those foul Orcs and had been thinking so for a while now. And he could guess what his elfling was planning to do.

Oh, when he got his hands on Legolas… Aragorn 'tsked' grimly. It seemed Legolas was in need of some extra attention. Of course, he'd known that before, but he hadn't known it was this urgent. He had already been planning to allow Legolas to get what he wanted—which was, of course, his undivided attention, along with reassurance that things were still the same between them, even though Aragorn was having to spend more time with the older Rangers to properly plan out their strategy. He just had not expected Legolas to take matters into his own hands.

He should've, though. Aye, he knew Legolas well, too well. He should've known that Legolas would seek out trouble in the best (or rather, worst) way he could—by doing something that would most certainly catch Aragorn's eye. Like putting himself in danger needlessly.

Legolas knew better than to do that. But it seemed his need for a little extra attention had blinded his common sense. Rest assured, Aragorn would attend to that swiftly. In fact, he was itching to get his hands on his elf. So, he fumed and worried and scowled the entire time they tramped through the woods.

"My lord, the footprints lead this way."

Aragorn gave a nod, allowing Elion to guide them. Elion was the best tracker out of them all. And thank the Valar for that, because tracking Legolas wasn't an easy task, for Legolas could've easily journeyed from tree to tree as his woodland kin seemed to love doing, not to mention that elves moved lightly— their footprints were rather hard to discern. But Elion was right; Aragorn recognized Legolas' faint footprints in the soil. It seemed he was in a rush.

"He shall be alright."

Halbarad's quietly murmured words pulled Aragorn out of his thoughts. When Halbarad grinned, clearly enjoying surprising him far too much, Aragorn sheepishly glanced at him and muttered, "Aye."

"I vow you are not too happy with your elfling, Sir."

"Nay, I am not. I vow you are not too happy with your own lad, Sir." Aragorn gave a quick nod in Osben's direction. The young Ranger was keeping his eyes focused on the ground as he stuck close by Elion, at least an arm's length from him. And it seemed he had good reason for doing so; every few moments, Elion would turn to look, as though he were making sure he was still there, before turning his attention back to the footprints.

"Oh, I most certainly am not." Halbarad chuckled. "And neither is Elion. I made sure to inform him of recent events the moment I had a chance."

Aragorn winced. He knew far too well what that meant. "Both of you, then?"

Halbarad slid him another glance and his lips quirked into a slight smile. "Of course. What else would it be? It seems my little lad has been feeling rather deprived of attention lately as well. Elion informed me that Osben tried to appeal the unfairness of my swats to him."

Aragorn snorted. Of all the mad things to do!

Halbarad chuckled. "Aye, Sir, that was my reaction as well. Elion was not too amused by his efforts, as brave as they were. I believe he expressed his displeasure quite well."

"Aragorn?"

Aragorn blinked, and he suddenly realized that he'd been staring at Legolas as his mind wandered. Legolas looked rather unsettled now. Aragorn knew that feeling all too well; being silently frowned at after some misbehaviour was quite disconcerting and troubling for the recipient. Aragorn wasn't sorry for it, though. His elfling deserved to stew in his apprehension for endangering himself so recklessly.

He figured it was time to start heading back, though, so he responded, "Aye?" He turned and scanned his surroundings, frowning. He noticed Osben sitting on the ground, with Elion and Halbarad fussing over him as they took off his shoe. Hm. Just one injury then. Poor Osben. It seemed his discipline would have to wait until he was all healed; Aragorn felt a flash of sympathy at that, remembering just how torturous it was to wait to heal while anticipating a spanking. It seemed Halbarad and Elion would have their hands full for a while.

"What—what're you doing?"

He sounded nervous.

Aragorn turned to face him. "I am looking around."

"Oh. I see." Legolas shifted. "But…"

Aragorn raised an eyebrow, enjoying far too much how Legolas was squirming. His pretty face was etched with guilt already.

"But…"

"Aye?"

"What're you looking at?" Legolas hesitantly stepped closer.

Ah. Now Aragorn knew why he was so nervous. Legolas was worried that Aragorn was scanning the fields for a nice clump of boulders or a sturdy log that he could sit on to pull him over his lap in front of the whole Company. And, ohhh! He spotted a boulder not too far off and noticed Legolas stiffening when his eyes landed on it. He was tempted, truly. But he knew it wouldn't be wise, not when he was still feeling the terror that had ripped through him when he saw Legolas diving to attack, all on his own. Nay, he would needs calm down first and debrief with the Company, as they always did. But for now, he was going to keep Legolas close by. He would not be leaving Aragorn's sight.

Aragorn saw Halbarad rise from where he'd been crouching over Osben before turning to face him and give him a small nod. Aragorn returned it, and began to walk. "Come, Sir."

"C-Come? Where?" Legolas scrambled after him, wringing his hands. He had a concerned frown on his pretty face.

"We are returning."

"Oh. I see. And… well, will you and I be returning as well?"

"Of course." Aragorn continued to stride forward. "We must debrief. Then I shall attend to your misbehaviour." Oh, how it thrilled him to speak those words! It calmed the anxiety he'd been feeling, knowing that he would be able to have his beloved elfling over his lap, feeling his weight and knowing he was there, still alive and well. He suddenly saw Legolas stop in the corner of his eye and frowned, pausing as well. "Come."

Legolas turned a sad, forlorn gaze onto him. He had that lost, far away look in his eyes.

Aragorn felt his heart waver, displeasure melting away to concern. He stepped closer to Legolas and murmured softly, "Come, Legolas. You know we must follow procedure. It is our duty." When he still didn't move, Aragorn, knowing he would get a reaction, pressed, "Are you not a member of the Grey Company?"

Legolas gasped at that. "I am!" he spluttered, looking wounded. "I am, Estel!"

"Shhh. I know you are." Aragorn moved closer and pulled him into a warm hug, wrapping his arms tightly around him. He felt Legolas tremble and soothed him once more with a sweeping hand down his back. "I was not implying that you were no longer a member. You know I would never, beloved. You are too dear to my heart for me to do so."

Legolas inhaled shakily, body stiffening, then muttered, "I know."

Ai! That sounded more like his Legolas, filled with defiance, every single word spoken a cry for help, a plea for attention. Aragorn pulled back, pleased to have gotten such a reaction out of him. He had not wanted Legolas to slip into that dark place, where he seemed to forget just how much he meant to both Aragorn and the Company, instead believing that he had shamed himself far too much to remain worthy of any honour.

Giving him one more look over, Aragorn nodded, resolved that Legolas would be alright for now, and ordered, "Come."

It was unsettling, trailing after his Ranger as though he were naught but a chastised elfling. Legolas could feel the gazes of the other Rangers flitting over him occasionally as they trekked back to camp. He tried to ignore it. Instead, he allowed his senses to roam free, taking in every little detail. He could still smell the acrid stench of burning Orcs. Not an enjoyable task to do at all. Above the noises of the rustling trees, he could hear Elion, Halbarad, and Osben in a heated conversation.

"I can walk!"

"Nay, you cannot. You will allow Elion to carry you back, Sir. And enough with that tone; it is unbecoming to have such an attitude."

"I do not have an attitude!"

"Hush."

Legolas sighed. He knew Osben would heal quickly; his Aragorn would fix him in no time with his supply of athelas and skilled hands. Athelas was a miracle to have, indeed. The Rangers were lucky that Aragorn had brought a large supply from Rivendell before joining the Company.

They arrived at camp within minutes, all swiftly gathering around the fire that Faenor coaxed alive. They talked amongst themselves in little groups while Aragorn tended to Osben, as Legolas predicted he would. After finishing with his injury, Aragorn beckoned Halbarad and a few others, not sparing Legolas a glance as they pulled away from the fire to discuss amongst themselves in low voices.

But Aragorn was watching. Oh, Legolas knew he was watching.

A guilty-looking Osben hesitated, then skittered up to him clumsily. He limped on the whittled crutches with which Elion had provided him the moment they arrived at camp. "Leg'las?"

"Aye." Legolas wasn't in the mood to speak to him. He wanted to be alone so that he could properly sulk and tend to his upset by himself. He was mad at himself for… for… he did not know. But he was angry.

"'m sorry."

And that got his attention. He lifted his head and stared. "What do you mean?"

Osben stared back, looking stricken. "I… I couldn't help it! When you left, Halbarad just… oh, Legolas, he gave me one of those looks, the ones you can't avoid without squirming or giving away that you know anything! And he asked if I'd seen you and then I—"

Legolas scowled, knowing exactly where this was headed. "You gave me away."

Osben looked even guiltier.

Legolas said no more, just turning back away from him. There was a small noise of distress next to him, and then Legolas saw Osben move away out of the corner of his eye, head downcast and looking absolutely crestfallen. He felt a pang of regret, but he pushed it away. No. He would not allow himself to feel anything. If anything, he deserved to feel such… such bad, such hurt. Osben would understand.

Aragorn and his group of older Rangers approached the fire once more and Legolas hastily sat down at his usual spot, right next to Aragorn. The debriefing was about to start.

As they congregated, Legolas noticed Osben now sitting comfortably in Elion's lap with a skillfully splinted foot. Elion wrapped his arms around him, resting his chin on his head, clearly trying to take away the distress he was feeling, even if he didn't know why Osben felt so. Legolas knew. He ripped his gaze away with another pang of guilt.

There was a small moment of silence, before Paenon declared, "Well! At least those Orcs are taken care of now." A rumble of good-natured chuckles spread through the group like wildfire before a hushed silence fell upon them once more.

Legolas' face burned with every passing second, knowing that they were all looking at him, as though he was expected to speak in an attempt to justify his reckless actions. He began to wonder if that really was required of him when Aragorn spared him the embarrassment by asking, "Any injuries besides 'ben's?"

They all shook their heads.

"We were lucky," Halbarad murmured. "It could've ended much worse."

Legolas pointedly stared at the ground.

He tuned out most of the debriefing session, knowing it was futile to try and pay attention. He was feeling too apprehensive of what was coming to concentrate. He knew how watchful Aragorn was, knew that he was under constant surveillance. It made him squirm. Did Aragorn think that he would dare to try running off again? That would be a foolish thing to do. Legolas was not foolish. He was not!

He was so deep in his thoughts that when Aragorn placed a hand on his shoulder, he jumped to his feet. His mouth went dry when he saw that the group had dispersed and were now heading off to clean themselves off from the skirmish. Which could only mean one thing…

Aragorn levelled a stern look at him, and ordered, "Come, Sir," before turning and heading out of the camp.

And of course, Legolas followed, bottom twinging in anticipation.

They didn't have to travel far to find what Aragorn was looking for—a nice, big log for him to sit on. Legolas froze a few arm-lengths away from Aragorn, watching as he swept off his cloak and bunched it up so that Legolas would be able to rest his head on it while… while he lay over Aragorn's lap. He shivered.

"Legolas."

At Aragorn's soft call, he forced himself to meet his eyes. Aragorn smiled. "Come," he said, sitting down on the log.

Legolas was beginning to hate that word. "Aye," he replied, and didn't move.

Aragorn raised an eyebrow. "This is long overdue, Sir."

"Aye."

"You deserve it, and nothing less."

"Mm."

"Is that not right, elfling mine? Don't you deserve to have your naughty bottom spanked for behaving with a lack of such elvish decorum you usually display?"

Legolas scowled at his words. Such crudewords! They made him want to snarl. And snarl he did. "Aye!"

"Pardon?"

Silence.

Aragorn patted his lap, pouring more oil on the fire that was beginning to rage inside of Legolas. When he still didn't move, Aragorn raised an eyebrow."Must I count?"

"No!" Legolas shot back, trembling in an effort to hold himself back from lunging at Aragorn and clamping a hand over his mouth to silence him, to make him hush and unable to speak such wretched words. "Nay, Sir, you shall not count."

"Ah. I see." Aragorn gave him an appraising look. "I was unaware that a naughty little one is fit to give orders."

Legolas fumed.

"I shall give you one more chance to come on your own, 'las," Aragorn told him. "Do not make me get up from my seat."

It was a wretched seat. Legolas told him so, making Aragorn throw his head back and laugh. Still, Legolas approached, knowing better than to hold out and worsen the consequences for himself. He had done that far too much before, and it never ended well for his backside.

"So you can follow orders." Aragorn reached out and took Legolas arm and began to draw him over his lap.

Legolas followed stiffly, trying to remain composed and stoic, even as Aragorn's words—all of which he was most certainly saying on purpose to try and get a rise out of him—continued to provoke and make him squirm. When he hesitated, Aragorn tugged and he landed with a soft, "Oomph!"

Aragorn hummed. "See? All secure now." He pulled Legolas closer to him with his left arm and started to yank down Legolas' leggings.

Legolas jerked. "Please, Estel!" he exclaimed before he could stop himself. "Do not!"

Aragorn paused. The sound of Legolas' ragged breathing was the only thing filling up the stillness between them. Then, Aragorn spoke, voice low and hushed. "Surely you did not expect that I wouldn't spank you bare?"

Legolas gasped and writhed in vain. "N-No!" he stammered. "I—"

"I have always pulled your leggings down 'ere a spanking."

"I-I—"

"Did you believe that I wouldn't do so this time, sweet one?"

"No! I—" Legolas broke off with a growl."I—"

"Did you just growl at me?"

"No!" Legolas glowered at the ground. "I mean, yes. But, but—Estel, please. I don't—I do not think that such… such a method is necessary!" He was not even sure what he was saying at this point. He sounded mad.

Aragorn clearly thought so too, because he was quiet for a while before he murmured, "I see."

Legolas nodded, swallowing. "Aye. S-So, there… there is no need to—"

"Pull down your leggings. Aye. You have expressed your concerns adequately. I hear you."

Legolas went limp. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome." With that, Aragorn yanked down his leggings all the way down to his ankles in one swift motion. Caught off guard, Legolas reared up with a yelp of protest, but Aragorn's grip on him was too firm to give him any leeway.

"Aragorn!"

"Mm?"

"You—you said—"

"Hm? What did I say?"

Legolas squeezed his eyes shut. "You said you wouldn't!"

Aragorn brushed a hand over his hair. "I never said that, little one," he pointed out wisely with a grin in his tone. "I merely heard your concerns and after careful consideration, I deemed them unfit."

"Unfit!" Legolas spluttered.

"Aye. Unfit."

"'Tis unfair." Legolas glared.

"I believe Osben says the same thing."

Legolas scowled. "Do not compare me to that… that little boy." To bring Osben up when his teasing words, his "You are a good boy indeed, Sir!" had been what spurred Legolas' misbehaviour on was… was… unfair!

Aragorn hummed. "You are certainly acting like him, getting all worked up and letting your temper fly. I advise against it when you are in this position, Sir."

Legolas told him exactly what he thought of Aragorn's suggestion with some rather colourful language.

Aragorn chuckled. "Impressive. But again, most unwise." With that, he landed his first spank.

Legolas gave a muffled yelp, having buried his face into Aragorn's cloak. He bit down on the cloth, refusing to make any noise that might indicate the fact that Aragorn's swats were hard and they hurt.

By the fourth swat, Aragorn paused, clearly finding something amiss, before he gave a small grunt of displeasure and muttered, "Oh, a fine strategy, my sweet elfling. Spit my cloak out. Right. Now." He punctuated his words with swats that especially stung.

"OW!"

"Thank you."

Legolas growled again, but Aragorn paid him no mind. Instead, he told Legolas sweetly, "Now, I believe we shall be having a discussion about today's events sometime in the near future. But for now, hush and allow me to attend to you."

In the near future! Legolas jerked as Aragorn's swats picked up speed. Ow, ow, OW! He huffed and yelped and squirmed, trying to predict where the next one might fall so he could twist to try and avoid it. It didn't work. Aragorn just chuckled at his efforts, which, if anything, aggravated him even more. "Aragorn! Ai!"

"Shhh."

Infuriating Ranger! Legolas just buried his face in Aragorn's cloak again, though he made sure he wasn't biting down on it this time. Ow, ow, ow…

Legolas let his mind drift, jerking every time Aragorn gave him a particularly hard swat. Aragorn spanked methodically, straightforwardly. There was no beginning, middle, or end. It just was. There was no more to it.

He had been on the receiving end of his wretchedly tireless hand far too often. Like that time he'd wandered off and fell asleep in a tree without informing anyone. Or that time he'd directly defied Aragorn's orders in front of the whole Company. Oh, that had been a rough spanking indeed. Or that time he'd chosen to goad Osben in hopes of gaining some attention. His face burned at that one. Osben… little Osben… his mind drifted to him again, and the hurt in his eyes when Legolas had spoken so roughly and cruelly to him. Legolas shuddered. He was mean. He was so mean. Stupid, stupid, stupid—

"What are you thinking?"

Legolas froze. "W-What?" Oh, his bottom stung. It was a steady blaze now; it was probably rather rosy. He winced at the thought. Cursed imagination.

"Legolas!"

"Ow!" Legolas jerked and squeezed his eyes shut. "W-What?"

"Tell me what you were thinking of," Aragorn prompted once more, though he sounded less patient this time. His hand rested on Legolas' backside, not rubbing or moving, just resting.

Legolas shivered. "N-Nothing. OW!" He trembled. He didn't want to say! He didn't, he didn't…

"I highly do not recommend lying to me right now, little one," Aragorn murmured. "Don't you agree?"

Legolas sniffed. "Uh-huhhh. N-No lying."

"Mmm."

Legolas could hear a grin in Aragorn's tone.

"Very good," his Ranger continued to croon. "So, go on, then. Answer my question."

Legolas let out a small noise of distress. "I… NO!" He spluttered when Aragorn lifted his hand, tensing in anticipation for the swat that was sure to fall.

"No?"

The swat did not fall. Yet.

"I-I meant, n-no, don't—don't—" Legolas quivered, burying his face in his hands, unable to bring himself to say the words that sent his face into flames.

"Ahhh." Aragorn sounded amused. "You meant 'no, do not swat my naughty bottom.' Is that right, Sir?"

Legolas snarled.

"Well?"

"Aye!"

He let out his first proper wail when Aragorn swatted him hard and chastised, "Your tone, Sir."

Legolas exhaled shakily, closing his eyes.

"I vow you need more time to think before answering my questions. I shall provide you with that time." With that, Aragorn began spanking again with no further warning.

Legolas bellowed. How was it possible for a spanking to hurt more than before after a short interlude? "OW! Estel! P-Please!"

"Hush."

Wretched Ranger!

Continuing to squeeze his eyes shut, he wrestled with Aragorn's cloak, torn between wanting to bite down on it again and knowing that if he had any common sense, he wouldn't. Aragorn would be rather displeased for trying to bite a hole through his cloak. He had told him so once.

"I vow you are trying to give my cloak some intricate designs, my elfling."

"Mmph!"

"Was that a yes?"

"Mmmgrrgh!"

"Hm. I shall assume so. However much I appreciate your efforts, I'm going to have to ask that you stop that immediately. Open. I want to hear you and your words. At once, Sir."

"Mmph—OW!"

"Thank you. Much better."

"Y-You are not going to speak to me anyways!" Legolas foolishly howled.

"Oh, I will. Just not right this second. Now hush. When I deem you ready for our discussion, we shall begin."

Oh, how unfair it was! Legolas longed to wail at the top of his lungs, but he didn't. He clamped his lips shut, only making small, grating noises at the back of his throat every time a particularly hard swat landed.

This was unfair.

It was.

All over just a bit of an impulsive plan on his part. It had not even ended badly. Aragorn was overreacting. He… he had no right! Legolas was older than Aragorn, Legolas was stronger and faster and curse it all! This hurt! When Aragorn finished with him, Legolas was going to tell him just how unreasonable this all was, and that this would no longer be an act that he partook in. And Aragorn would have to listen, because he was an elf, and a Prince.

"Do you believe that?"

Legolas jerked, squeezing his fists. "W-What?"

Aragorn paused in his efforts and rested a hand on his bottom. Legolas shuddered at the small reprieve, unsure whether he wanted to push into the warm hand or pull away from it.

Aragorn was not much of a talker near the beginning of a spanking. Quite a contrast from Legolas, in fact; he preferred to scold and lecture from the beginning. So the fact that Aragorn was already speaking to him meant something. He just didn't know what. Not yet.

"Legolas!"

"OW!" Legolas buried his face into Aragorn's cloak. "W-WHAT!"

"Do not bellow at me so impudently, Sir," Aragorn muttered, making Legolas tense as he tried to avoid the inevitable spank that fell not a second later. "'twas you who was not listening. Isn't that right?"

"A-Aye."

Silence.

"F-Forgive me."

"Mm. Of course, meleth nîn." Aragorn's warm hand gently rubbed his now tingly bottom. "Now. Back to the matter on hand. Do you truly believe that?"

Legolas rubbed his face against the soft Elven cloak. It felt good. It smelled like Aragorn. A good smell. He flinched when Aragorn's hand lifted again and hastily sputtered, "W-What? Believe w-what?"

Aragorn was quiet for a few moments, letting Legolas squirm. And squirm he did. A few moments later, his Ranger murmured, "Do you really believe that you don't deserve to be over my lap, getting your naughty bottom spanked?"

Legolas groaned at the words. "H-How—"

"How did I know?" Aragorn chuckled. "I always know, sweet one. You know I do."

Aye, he did know. Wretched Dúnedain insight. Knowing he was cornered and it was futile to try and wriggle out of said corner, he just nodded miserably. "Uh-huhhh. You do know, Arag—OW!"

Aragorn spanked in silence for a few more moments, ignoring Legolas' blathering.

"P-Please! Ar'gorn! I want—let's—please! C-Can't we talk—OW—'bout t-this PLEASE!"

"Oh, we shall talk," Aragorn promised. "But you are not yet ready."

"I am!" Legolas sputtered, tensing and clenching his bottom as he squirmed. "P-Please—"

"Hush. You do not set the pace, Sir, I do."

"OWWW!"

"Am I correct?"

"Y-You are!"

"Mm. Then we understand one another. Good. Now hush."

Hush indeed!

Legolas let out a small sob, the first of many that were soon to come. Succumbing to his fate, he just wrapped his arms around himself and buried his face in them.