Aragorn and Gimli rested on their picnic blanket in the sunshine, idly watching Boromir and Legolas. While the king's mount grazed peacefully nearby, the prince and the steward had been riding their horses back and forth across the the meadow, showing off for the sake of showing off. At one point they had disappeared into the forest, weaving their mounts skillfully between the tall pines. The king and the dwarf caught quick glimpses of them as they swerved recklessly and teased one another in the shadows.

Gimli yawned and turned to Aragorn. "Anymore sandwiches?"

Aragorn rolled onto his side and rummaged in the picnic basket. "No. Cheese, though. One bottle of beer left. And something Arwen baked this morning." The king sniffed at it and raised an eyebrow. "She's getting better."

The dwarf grunted interestedly. "What is it?"

"I don't know, but it smells pretty good. How can you be hungry again already?" Aragorn replaced the mysterious pastry and rolled onto his back, draping one forearm over his eyes.

"Heavy muscle mass," Gimli rumbled at him. "All dwarves have generous appetites. It's a necessity."

Aragorn snorted.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The sound of rapid hoof beats bore down on them suddenly, and Aragorn had just enough time to yell and cringe hard back into the turf as Boromir and Legolas, racing their lathered mounts toward the other side of the clearing, steered Arod into a long, low jump over both dwarf and king.

Not Boromir and his chestnut. Just Legolas and Arod.

At the last moment Boromir had hauled his mount hard to the right, avoiding the startled occupants of the picnic blanket, but sending up a wave of shattered turf as the horse dug in to make the sharp turn at speed.

Gimli let out a string of earnest curses and sat up next to Aragorn as they stared after the steward and the elf prince.

"Great Aule!" Gimli bellowed after the two. "What sort of unblessed, idiotic stunt was that for two grown men - er, beings to pull? Aragorn, are you alright?"

Aragorn blinked, torn between outrage and having a small heart attack. "I. Buhhh..." He cleared his throat and scowled. "Hey! You two!"

Legolas was huffing dramatically at Boromir, "Oh, that's lovely! You back off at the test, and leave me to get into trouble with Aragorn!"

Boromir laughed and patted the sweating neck of his horse. "My big lad's a fine fellow, but I wouldn't trust him to fly over the king of Gondor!"

Aragorn shouted again. "You! Hey! You irresponsible ponce of an elf prince, and you, you great, blundering half-wit of a steward! Get your worthless arses over here!"

"I believe he's referring to us," Legolas deduced cordially. "Called me a ponce."

"And me a half-wit."

"Got to be right at least half the time," Legolas allowed. "He is the king."

Boromir pulled one of the elf's braids.

Legolas shoved at the steward's shoulder.

Gimli rolled his eyes and groaned. He knew what was coming.

Aragorn growled, "Feanor's hindquarters, am I doomed to forever play governess to you two?"

Snickering, Boromir and Legolas turned their mounts and rode at an easy canter toward the fuming monarch, their smiles and laughter indicating an unlikelihood of repentance any time soon.

Then Legolas disappeared. A quick, awkward flurry of slender limbs and long, pale hair, and then he was gone. Boromir glanced curiously over his shoulder, reined in his mount and rode back. He found Legolas sitting up in a dazed, splay-legged sort way in the long grass, Arod nuzzling him apologetically.

Aragorn demanded, "Now what the hell has happened?" and advanced impatiently toward the scene of the crime, followed by Gimli, who muttered to himself of elves and idiots.

Boromir shrugged. "Legolas fell off his horse."

The elf's mortified expression turned petulant. "I did not fall! Arod bucked me!"

"Something sting him?" Gimli wondered. "Are you all right Legolas?"

Boromir sniggered. "Something stung your horse and you fell off? You have climbed roaring cave trolls and scaled rampaging mumakil with hardly a thought, but now you fall from your horse and blame it on some poor wasp. You're losing your touch, old friend!"

Legolas was on his feet in an instant, glaring up at Boromir. "You take that back!"

Boromir slid down from his big chestnut's back to stand eye to eye with the insulted elf. "I won't. I see what I see. You fell off your horse." He grinned hugely.

"I never fall off--"

"Yes you did," Boromir taunted, taking a quick step back. "Wait until Queen Arwen hears about this!"

Legolas yelped, horrified. "You wouldn't!"

Boromir bounced backward, enjoying the moment immensely.

Legolas gaped. "Oh, you would! I'll sting you! Get back here!"

Gimli sighed mournfully, as though at the inevitable.

Sprinting at a fine, long-legged clip across the meadow, Boromir called back, "So you can nag me into silence? I think not!"

"I'm faster than you are!" Legolas took a swipe at Boromir's shirt, but narrowly missed it on the run.

"Only when I allow you! And if you haven't fallen off your--ack!" Legolas tackled Boromir into the lee of a small ripple in the meadow, and the two vanished into the long grass. The sounds of wrestling and giggling rattled over the meadow.

Aragorn stared at the spot where Legolas and Boromir had disappeared. "I have never," the king murmured, "seen such a thing!"

Gimli looked up at his friend sharply. "Never seen what? Those two going at it like a couple of over-heated weasels?"

"No, not that," Aragorn began, wandering slowly back to the ruins of their picnic. "I mean--"

"Happens all the time!" The dwarf rummaged for his tobacco, stomping after him. "Don't know how you could have missed it. Aule's eyebrows, they've molested one another in practically every corner of the city! Now apparently they're working their way beyond the wall."

"No, you see, what happened back there..." Aragorn started again, pointing backward over his own shoulder. As sounds of elven rapture drifted over the clearing, Arod and the other two horses had begun to amble toward the spot where Boromir and Legolas had disappeared. Aragorn bit his lip. Horses were naturally curious. This could not end well.

"Aule's bollocks, can't that blasted wood-elf be more discreet?" Gimli complained. "And you're telling me you've never heard that?"

Aragorn shook his head, chuckling. "Gimli! I mean I have never seen Legolas tossed from horseback. I have never imagined it might be possible!"

"Oh. That." The dwarf shrugged, hunting about in the picnic basket.

Sudden cries of dismay and a powerful mix of curses in Westron and Sindarin cut across the meadow. The horses bolted in terror.

"I suppose," Gimli smirked, triumphantly bringing out the last bottle of beer, "there's a first time for everything."