Aragorn scowled as his brothers turned away. He wished that just once, he could get the upper hand with them – but it was difficult, and he was always outnumbered. Then he grinned as he bent to pick up the coppers from the dust. If Elladan and Elrohir wanted to give him ‘alms’, the least he could do was take their coin.
He followed them into the inn, where he found they had already ordered three brimming mugs of ale. He smiled. Perhaps they were not so bad after all.
Elladan glanced at him. “Oh, Estel? We said you would pay.”