It wasn't fair, Aragorn thought sullenly.
It wasn't that he minded hunting in winter. The cold didn't bother him that much and he knew that learning the winter tracking and survival skills was something that would serve him well in the future -- especially if he took up the ranger's life as he planned.
He wouldn't even mind struggling through the thigh deep snowdrifts -- at least not as much -- if he hadn't been the only one doing it.
Aragorn glanced ahead to where his companion was running lightly over the top of the snow with no effort at all.
Winter hunting wasn't the problem. Winter hunting with a thrice becursed elf who didn't even have the decency to sink into the snow was. Especially when said elf seemed to forget his human companion wasn't so fortunate when setting the pace.
Aragorn paused for a moment to catch his breath. Legolas had gone another couple of lengths before he noticed and came back.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Aragorn replied, voice still a bit winded. "The going's just a bit more difficult for some of us."
"We can take a rest, of course, if you need it," Legolas immediately offered.
"Thanks," Aragorn muttered, slipping his pack off and stretching sore and overused muscles, while Legolas stood and watched, looking disgustingly fresh and energetic.
"You know, you could at least have the decency to pretend to be tired," Aragorn said with a scowl.
Legolas looked at him. "Why would I do that?" he asked, expression puzzled, but Aragorn caught a sparkle of amusement in the elf's eyes which only made him more irritated.
It had been annoying enough when he had thought Legolas had just forgotten he wasn't as agile. But doing it on purpose....
Without thinking about it, Aragorn scooped up some snow, packed it loosely, and let fly at Legolas, hitting him square in the face.
The elf sputtered, wiping the snow away and staring at Aragorn in wide-eyed surprise.
"Sorry," Aragorn apologized, not even trying to sound sincere. "My hand slipped."
"I see," Legolas replied evenly, then suddenly exploded into action, diving to the side and downward, grabbing some snow, and throwing the resulting missile at Aragorn with a born archer's aim.
Things got rather chaotic then.
When the dust -- and the snow -- had settled, Legolas was lying in the drift beside him, as snow-covered as he was, both of them breathless with laughter. Each time they calmed, they'd look at each other and start laughing again.
"So..." Legolas finally managed, even schooling his face to seriousness, though his eyes still danced with amusement, "do you feel lighter?"
The question took Aragorn by surprise, and it was a moment before the meaning behind his friend's words sunk in. When it had, he replied seriously, "So light I could run across water."
Legolas smiled and kissed him gently. "Your spirit will always be able to fly. Never forget it."
Aragorn let his breath out in a contented sigh. "If I do, I will have you to remind me."
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Chapter notes: Summary: Laughter can help the spirit do what the body cannot.
