Disclaimer: I am merely a tool for the mind of my muses, and am working off the ideas of Tolkien, and therefore own nothing within these one-shots - unless there are any random characters never mentioned in his works, I own them. I write only for my enjoyment, and for others to enjoy my writing, and I appreciate that my translations, knowledge, etc may be wrong, so feel free to help correct me.

Beginnings

Summary:Dûnedain, the man had said in answer to the questions earlier. A man of the North seemed to be a likely life for this man. Legolas meets Aragorn for the first time.

And so he studied the man who walked beside him, wondering over who he was, because even with the slight limp he had, there was little of the usual clumsiness he saw in the edains, and this man held himself almost to the point of an elf. His eyes fell to the quiver at the man's back, and the sheath at his hip, trying to judge from those where the man was from. Both were worn and old, almost the complete opposite to the leather overcoat – which was only just beginning to show sign of age and use – yet all three appeared well cared for.Dûnedain, the man had said in answer to the questions earlier. A man of the North seemed to be a likely life for this man, though his being this far over the mountains made it seem less likely.

He realised that the man was now watching him as well, and he turned his head back to the path, eyes flickering to the trees that surrounded it, wary of any possible danger.

"What is your name, dûnadan?" he asked, mentally counting the times he's asked this question

"What is yours, elf?" came the reply for the sixth time, a hint of humour in the voice. He shook his head, lips twitching, but he managed to banish the smile from his face before it made an appearance.

"Legolas," he said eventually, they were getting nowhere by being elusive, and if he gave his name the man would give his, and he might learn more about it.

"Strider," the man said, his voice was hoarse, either seeing too much or too little use, but the tone was light, and the smile on his face was evident in his speech.

"Where do you hail from, Strider?"

"Over the mountains," a hint of longing notable in the reply

"Why are you this far East?"

"I am wandering," the smile had returned as he said this, and he suddenly let out a whistle, and both stopped.

"Thank you," Strider said, inkling his head "I may not have survived had you not come."

"Beware the evils of Mirkwood," Legolas quoted "Our spiders have grown cunning, and even the wariest of travellers may lose to them." He smiled suddenly, and then his expression changed to surprise as two horses appeared on the path before them.

One was the roan stallion that his father had gifted to him, the other was a filly dark as night. Yet what surprised him most was that she was of elvish breed, and bore a bridle but no saddle, and as the pair levelled with him and Strider, the filly nudged the adan friendly, and he saw the blue blanket that covered her, and the elvish symbols that were embroidered on one side

'All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost'

Before he could speak on the words, the edain had swung himself onto the horses back, and inclined his head again, grinning broadly.

"Navaer, Legolas of Mirkwood!" he said cheerfully in accent-less Sindarin "Estel Elrondion, child of Imladris, thanks you for your aid. May we meet again!"

Translations:

Navaer - Farewell