It was their third night after they had left Ithilien, and the trio was preparing to go to sleep. They were still in South Gondor and the woods were safe, so they did not think it necessary to put watches. About an hour after they had lain down, however, Aragorn suddenly rose from his bedroll and crawled to Gimli, shaking the dwarf awake.

"Shh, we quiet, Gimli, we do not want to wake him up!" He whispered urgently and looked briefly at the elf to make sure that he was still sleeping. "There is something we need to discuss!"

"What is it?" The dwarf yawned tiredly and rubbed his eyes. "And cannot we talk about it next morning?"

"Not unless we want Legolas to hear," the man whispered in return.

This finally got the dwarf's attention and Gimli blinked a few times before staring at the man, fully awake at last. "What is it?"

"This is not working," Aragorn said sadly. "Obviously, Legolas seems more relaxed than he did in Ithilien – I even heard him singing to a tree yesterday, and I think this trip with us is doing him some good. But I cannot see this great improvement we have been hoping for. The time has come for more drastic measures."

"What do you suggest?" Gimli asked softly, throwing the sleeping elf a quick glance.

"We need to do something that will remind him of the times past. Remember when the two of you were competing who would kill more orcs? Something like that. A little contest in battle skills would do wonders to improve his spirits."

"Only that there are no orcs here," Gimli pointed out the little flaw in their plan.

"This is true," Aragorn agreed. "After the War I have worked hard to drive these foul creatures away, and unfortunately I have succeeded. Chances that we will meet with any orcs are rather slim."

"Unfortunately indeed," Gimli murmured. "Good word choice here. But if there are no orcs, what contest could we make?"

"I think that any competition with you will do him good," the man said. "Just try to think of some way you can challenge him."

"Like what?" The dwarf asked, feeling at a loss.

"Running competition?" Aragorn suggested, but Gimli snorted dismissively. The man sighed. They needed something that would give the elf and dwarf equal chances to win. "I suppose tree climbing is out of the question as well. Swimming perhaps? There is a lake we will be reaching tomorrow, perhaps you can challenge him there."

"I am not challenging the elf to a swimming competition! Nor a shooting competition or anything of the sort. Why does it have to be me anyway? Cannot you challenge him to a sparring match – your sword against his knives perhaps?"

Aragorn shook his head. "It needs to be you. It was you he was competing against in the past, when you were counting how many orcs you have slain."

"Well, we are not fighting anyone now, so I cannot do that!" Gimli murmured angrily. "In case you have failed to notice, all we have been doing is walking, hunting, cooking and eating!"

The man sighed. Gimli was right – this was all they had been doing for the past three days, and although they enjoyed their time together, those activities presented little opportunities for competition. A hunting contest was out of question – for an elf every life was precious and killing an animal needlessly was unthinkable. They only killed what they needed to eat and nothing more. Eating… yes, perhaps Gimli could challenge Legolas to an eating contest, but Aragorn doubted that this would be a fine idea. This left only one possibility.

"Cooking!" He announced triumphantly.

"What?" Gimli asked, not following his friend's thoughts.

"You will challenge Legolas to a cooking contest," the man explained, sounding pleased. "He will have a great desire to win and prove to you that elves are better cooks. And thus he will pour all his energy into this contest and will forget his present troubles, at least for a while!"

"Cooking?" The dwarf did not sound convinced. "Do you think I could beat him?"

Aragorn suppressed a smile. "This is not the point, Gimli," he said patiently. "You will not be doing this to win or lose, but to help Legolas heal."

The dwarf stubbornly crossed his arms across his chest. "I am doing anything to help this brainless elf heal, but I am not loosing!" He announced.

The man sighed and decided to change the strategy. "But Gimli, you are not going to lose. We all know that you are the better cook."

The dwarf eyed him suspiciously. "Do you truly think so, or are you saying this to make me compete?"

"Of course I think so!" Aragorn said. "I have traveled for long years throughout Middle-earth, and I have never met better cooks than Dwarves, except Hobbits perhaps."

Gimli looked pleased to hear this, but still did not feel convinced. "But if you are right and I am the better cook, Legolas would never agree to compete against me. He would not want to lose."

"He will agree," the man stated with conviction. "If he does not, he will be acknowledging your victory without even putting up a fight. It is not in his nature." Gimli still looked hesitant and Aragorn knelt in front of him, placing his hands on the shorter being's shoulders. "Tell me, my friend, do you want to help Legolas?"

"Of course!" The dwarf cried. "How can you doubt this?"

"I do not doubt it," Aragorn said. "But what are you waiting for? Help him! He needs you."

Gimli nodded solemnly. "I will." He said, and his eyes were shining with determination. "But if I lose, it will be your fault."

-:-

Legolas was walking back towards their camp, carrying the two rabbits he had just caught. Curiously, both Gimli and Aragorn had woken up quite late in the morning and had appeared as if they had not gotten much sleep last night. This made no sense since it had been a quiet night and a good weather, and Legolas had slept like a baby. There was no good reason for his friends' lack of sleep, but he had decided to let the matter drop and had helpfully offered to do the hunting while the two rested.

When he returned, he saw that Aragorn had already started a small fire going. "Well done, Legolas," he said when he noticed the rabbits. "Hand them here and lunch will be ready soon."

"Thank Valar!" Gimli exclaimed suddenly, throwing Aragorn a relieved glance. "For a moment I feared that he would be doing the cooking!" He added, pointing at the elf.

Legolas froze in his tracks and frowned at the dwarf. "What was that supposed to mean?"

"Ah, nothing," Gimli said cheerfully and took a puff from his pipe. "It is just that I do not enjoy food cooked by Elves too much."

Legolas resisted the urge to drop the rabbits in shock and raised his eyebrows. "And I suppose you could cook better, Master Dwarf?" He asked, his voice sweet as honey.

"Gimli, there is no need to-" Aragorn stood up and reached out to stop Gimli, as if trying to bring some peace.

"Leave me be, Aragorn!" The dwarf said angrily and brushed off the man's hand. "The Elf just insulted my cooking abilities!"

"As if there are any abilities to insult!" Legolas said with a grin.

"Oh, there are, and they are far greater than your own cooking abilities!" Gimli cried and glared at his friend.

"Fine!" Legolas said and tossed one of the rabbits towards the dwarf. Aragorn noticed a sparkle in the elf's eyes, a sparkle he had not seen in a long time and had believed lost forever, and it pleased him greatly to see it back. "You cook this one and I will cook the other. Let us see which one is better."

"Good!" Gimli agreed and grabbed the rabbit. Their plan was going quite well so far. "But how will we decide who the winner is?"

Legolas furrowed his brows in thought, just now realizing that he had not thought about that. How could they reach an objective decision about who the better cook was? And then a sudden thought occurred to him. "Aragorn will be the judge," he suggested. "He will taste both of our dishes and will say which one is better."

The man paled and took a step back. This was not going according to plan! He certainly did not want to get involved in this way – no matter whose dish he would prefer, the one who lost would see his judgment as personal betrayal and would repay him in kind. To accept this would be like signing his own death verdict! "No, I do not think this is a good idea-" he mumbled miserably.

"Why not?" Gimli asked. "I think it is wonderful! Let us start!"

Aragorn gulped nervously and watched in fearful anticipation as his friends skinned the rabbits and started rummaging through their packs to find all pots, pans, and additional food – vegetables and spices – that they might need. Legolas choose to make a rabbit stew with carrots and mushrooms, while Gimli decided to bake his rabbit with some potatoes.

Finally both cooks were ready and presented their food to the reluctant judge with smug smiles. Aragorn tried to control the slight shaking of his hand and took the offered spoon and fork, tasting both dishes in turn.

They were both quite good, for a food prepared in the wilds at least. It was nothing fancy such as the food prepared by hobbits or by the royal cooks in Minas Tirith, but both were dishes that he would gladly eat. Perhaps he liked Gimli's baked rabbit a bit more, but both were about equally good. That left him with only one choice – he had to decide which choice would result in less painful outcome for him and then he would judge accordingly.

Gimli would never forgive him if he preferred Legolas's meal. 'If I lose, it will be your fault,' the dwarf had said. Moreover, he was the one who had made Gimli compete. However, Legolas would never forgive him either if he said that the dwarf was better than him in something. His revenge would surely be great. Now the question was which one of his friends would kill him in a less painful way…

Aragorn looked down at the plates, avoiding his friends' expectant gazes. Something told him that Legolas would be more creative in his revenge. The elf then. Legolas would be the winner.

Fool! A little voice inside his head screamed angrily. This is not about you, it is about Legolas! Do not choose what will be less painful for you, but choose what would help him heal better!

And then he knew that Gimli had to be the winner. If Legolas lost, his fighting spirit would be motivated and would return stronger than ever, ready to strike back. True, the elf would never forgive him, but this was not about him after all…

"Gimli," he murmured barely audibly, still hesitant to look up. "Gimli's meal is better."

The dwarf gave out a cry of triumph, while Legolas froze in shock. "What did you say?" He finally asked in an icy voice.

"I said that Gimli is the winner," Aragorn repeated, sounding slightly more determined this time although his heart was pounding wildly in his chest. "He is the better cook."

"Are you sure?" Legolas asked. "Maybe you should take a second bite?"

"I am sure," Aragorn said and finally found the courage to look up. He immediately regretted it as he noticed that the elf's eyes were narrowed to mere slits.

Legolas stood frozen for a moment and took several deep breaths. Finally he turned around and faced his opponent. "This was a good contest, Gimli, thank you and I congratulate you for your victory." Then he turned back and glared at Aragorn. "And now I want to have a contest with you!"

The man's eyes widened in surprise. "A cooking contest?" The elf nodded. "But… but we have already used the rabbits…"

"We can use what we have brought with us," Legolas said and reached for his pack. "Potatoes, cabbage, onion, celery, beans, mushrooms… no meat, but we can still test our abilities. Come now, Aragorn, would you not do me this honor?" The elf's voice was still as cold as ice and it made the man shudder.

"This sounds like a fine idea to me," Gimli said, and Aragorn glared at him. "See," he added as Legolas left to fill his pan with water at a nearby stream, "he seems to be doing much better. I believe this helped him, and his contest with you will further add to his healing."

"You know that this makes you the judge now," the man murmured and Gimli nodded. "It will be better for him if you make me the winner. This will make his spirit fight back and he will heal faster."

"Of course, of course," Gimli said hastily and nodded to his left. Legolas was returning. It was time.

Man and elf cooked in silence, occasionally exchanging wary glances. Gimli was watching them, looking pleased with himself and puffing his pipe contently. Finally, the competitors were ready and proudly presented their meals.

Gimli took his time and ate quite a bit from both dishes, obviously reveling in the good food. Finally, he sat back and stretched. "This is a hard choice," he said. "But I have to say that Legolas is the winner. His meal tastes better."

The elf grinned smugly and Aragorn gaped in shock. "What-what-why?" He muttered as Legolas walked away. "We decided that I should win."

"I am sorry, laddie." Gimli smiled apologetically. "But I had to think about my own safety first. That elf looked quite murderous. I do not wish to imagine what he would have done to me if I had chosen your dish over his." He saw that Aragorn was about to protest, and raised his hand to silence him. "Shh! Before you say something, just look at him!"

Aragorn turned around and gasped. Legolas was leaning against a tree, gazing at a little bird flying after a tiny butterfly. And on his lips was the most brilliant smile the man had seen on his friend's face since that fateful day at Pelargir. The reason behind this smile, the man knew, was much, much more than simply the elf's recent victory. Legolas was remembering. He was remembering what it meant to enjoy the good times with his friends.

And this smile was worth everything they had gone through that day.

TBC