Thudding footsteps, muffled by the thick growth of moss and layers of fallen leaves, announced Aragorn's presence in Mirkwood. The creature Gollum's head thumped rhythmically against the leather pack on his back as he carried it over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. In his frustration, he had knocked it out with a swift kick to its temple after several hours of its endless cursing, hissing, and spitting. Aragorn's thick black brows drew together in a frown as he reflected for the thousandth time that day how much he would love to drop this foul creature into someone else's care and head on to Rivendell. He ached to go to his beautiful betrothed; to look into her bright silver-gray eyes and breathe in the perfume of her thick sable hair.

Finding Thranduil King's court however, is no easy task and convincing the notoriously stubborn elf to do Gandalf the favor of guarding such an unsightly and clearly evil thing would likely be just as difficult. So, in hopes of expediting his search, he made no effort to mask his presence here-letting his feet fall as loud as they wished and even singing periodically to draw the attention of watchful elvish ears. As he started up a familiar elvish tune, he couldn't help but remember his first visit to Mirkwood and the only Mirkwood elf he'd ever met. Wide sapphire eyes and a full bow-shaped mouth filled his vision for a brief moment. That encounter happened so long ago and it was highly unlikely that he should ever clap eyes on the strange elf again.

...

Pointed ears pricked up. Someone was singing on one of the old forgotten forest paths. The voice was distinctive in its slightly rasping, soulful quality and caused a knot to form in the young elf's belly. But, the elf knew his duty and called his warriors to attention. The man had come far too close to Thranduil's keep and so, he needed to be properly investigated.

...

Three elves dropped down from the trees and within the blink of an eye, Aragorn was surrounded on all sides by sharply pointed arrows.

"Who are you? What is your purpose in coming so deep into these woods?" A soft voice questioned him. Aragorn turned and saw blue eyes so dark and so deep, glittering from the few stray rays of sunlight caught in their irises. His heart skipped a beat. By the Valar! His Mirkwood elf- Legolas, his brain suddenly supplied -was more exquisite than his memory had suggested.

"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. I would speak with your king."

A golden eyebrow arched.

"You seek an audience with Thranduil, King of the Greenwood elves?"

"Yes."

Legolas' vivid eyes gave him a thorough once over, causing Aragorn to unconsciously pull himself up to his full proud height. After a few tense moments, the elf finally blinked and lowered his drawn arrow. The other elves quickly followed suit.

"Thranduil King does not grant an audience to every strange man walking through the wood. State your purpose."

The note of curiosity in the elf's fair voice caused a smile to tug at the corners of Aragorn's lips.

"I come at Gandalf the Gray's behest to collect on a favor your king owes him."

A flash of recognition danced across Legolas' face before he nodded and then asked,

"And why does Mithrandir send some unknown ranger to do his bidding?"

Aragorn was surprised to see a knowingly playful smile turn up the petal-pink bow of the elf's mouth and twinkle in his striking eyes.

He shifted uncomfortably as he realized that the elf wanted him to directly state his lineage, which always made him feel distinctly unnerved. Still, he was who he was and he had learned to claim his ancestor with a measure of pride.

"He sends Isildur's heir."

The wind rushed very hard and the treetops rustled violently above the sudden heavy silence.

"I thought so", the elf said very softly as if he were saying it to himself. For a moment, his expression softened before he put his arrow back in the quiver and slung his bow across his back.

"I will go ahead and bring word to our king. Hu-nivya na ni muina fennas a hu-arya ya tenna ni-tulya o haran-quente." He spoke to the other elves in a sort of elvish that Aragorn couldn't understand. The words were strange and the accent odd with a lilting intonation he had never heard amongst the elves of Imladris, Lothlorien, or Lindon.

As the last word left his lips, the Mirkwood elf turned and flitted off into the trees leaving Aragorn to the two guards.

"Come, follow us." The darker blonde elf said in a thick accent that matched the one Legolas had used in his elvish.

As Aragorn followed them through the thick growth of trees, walking over the gnarled roots with practiced care, he found himself wondering if Legolas remembered him.