Disclaimer: See the Prologue.

A/N: Sorry this chapter's late. I went to Arches National Park for the weekend and there was no internet connection in the cabin we stayed in. A big thank you goes out to Estel-hopeofmen, RosalieCullenHale1, Taryn Streambattle, Legolas Thranduilion, and iccle fairy for reviewing. It makes me so happy when I see your reviews in my inbox.

Beta Reader: Bobadoo

The OoOoOo indicates a change of scene or POV.

~*Chapter Two*~

It was early afternoon and the two companions had been traveling in silence broken only once in a while by one comment or another. Aragorn had made several attempts at conversation with Cossidh, but the elf replied shortly, preoccupied by listening to the talk of the trees only he could hear.

He shot a sideways glance at Cossidh. The elf's head was tilted and his eyes were narrowed slightly. Aragorn allowed his gaze to drop to the long dagger in the elf's belt and the small throwing knives alongside it. He wondered why this Mirkwood elf had no bow and quiver of arrows. After all, Thranduil's people were said to be great archers.

Both moved at the same pace and Aragorn had discovered that he was exactly the same height as, if not taller, than the elf.

At this pace, we will be out of Chetwood just a few hours after nightfall,Aragorn reflected.

Aragorn tried to imagine what the forest might look like through a wood elf's eyes. He breathed in the aromas of the various trees and damp earth, spying several purple crocuses in the grasses. Robins chirped to and fro in the leafy boughs overhead. Leaves rustled as a light zephyr blew gently. A sense of peace spread through the ranger as he quietly observed his surroundings.

Therefore, when Cossidh spoke, it came as a surprise to Aragorn.

"Are we going through Imladris or passing it by?"

Considering the inquiry, Aragorn shrugged one shoulder. "We could go through. I know what time might be lost by going there can be made up for by asking for horses. Lord Elrond is sure to let us use them if we ask."

"I see. You know Lord Elrond?" Cossidh actually appeared interested in what the ranger had to say.

"Yes. I know him and all the elves of Rivendell well. They are like family to me." Aragorn smiled wistfully at the thought of the elf haven he had grown up in.

"What is Imladris like? I have never been there before, as far as I can recall."

Aragorn was surprised by this, but was happy to tell the elf of his childhood home. He briefly described it and its people to the attentive wood elf. Cossidh chewed on his cheek, a curious expression on his face, interrupting ever once in awhile with a question, but mostly held his peace.

After he finished his short description, Aragorn turned puzzled eyes on Cossidh. "I have been told many times that elves have perfect recall, so why-"

"Most do," the Silva cut in shortly. The set of his jaw and light in his eyes warned Aragorn not to ask questions and they walked in silence, Aragorn's mind in turmoil.

They made camp at the edge of Chetwood as the stars twinkled overhead. Man and elf worked with barely a word to each other. There was an unspoken agreement not to make a fire, so both sat down and quietly ate their rations. Cossidh finished quickly and one-by-one inspected his long dagger and two throwing knives. There was no need for him to do so, because the blades were in perfect condition.

Aragorn unsheathed his sword and took an oiled rag from his pack. He polished the steel, watching the oil give it a dull gleam and finding a soothing quality in the action. His eyes flicked up to the elf, who was leaning against a poplar, examining the hilt of one of his knives. The ranger was itching to ask why the elf had no bow, but held his tongue. He did ask another question that had been bothering him since the previous night though.

"What is a wood elf doing so far from Greenwood?"

Cossidh ran his fingertip along the edges of his knife, drawing blood. "My business is my own, but if you must know, I was visiting friends in Mithlond. My family urged me to leave the darkness of Mirkwood for at least a short while."

That makes sense. Aragorn was saddened to hear an elf call the great forest Mirkwood, when all the wood elves that had ever visited Rivendell in his childhood had insisted on calling it Greenwood. Is the situation there really so bad? One would think after the Necromancer's defeat, it would have lightened.

"Why do you not have a bow? I thought all…Mirkwood elves were archers." Aragorn cast an approving eye on his gleaming weapon and put the rag aside.

"I used to have a bow," the elf sighed, "but not anymore. It broke in a fight with some orcs and I have not been able to make a new one since then. Not enough time to when you are on the move." He held up the throwing knives. "These have been able to substitute well enough."

Once again, they lapsed into silence. Aragorn found the elven company comforting, but he longed for his 'brothers' or one of his fellow rangers to be there with him. Cossidh seemed perfectly content to remain silent.

What is Mother doing now?

Gilraen had always been there for him, to listen to his frustrated, sorrowful, or happy comments, to comfort him, to warn him, to give him advice, to tell him about his father…She had been the first he had told his love of Arwen to. He hoped she was not worried about him being in the Wilds.

Cossidh stood and returned his knives to their sheaths. "I will take the first watch," he said as he climbed easily into the poplar.

Letting out a breath, Aragorn lay down and wrapped his cloak around himself before drifting into sleep.

OoOoOoOo

The week passed by swiftly. The two travelers refrained from conversation as much as possible, helped along by the fact Cossidh was disinclined to start any talk himself, but there were the occasional questions and every so often they would speak of trivial things when the boredom set in. Neither revealed anything of value to the other.

Cossidh always insisted on taking the first watch and if Aragorn disregarded the elf's demand and took it himself, the Silva would stay awake the whole time either gazing at the stars or talking to trees.

Occasionally, Cossidh would make some remark on the superiority of elves just to start some banter, but that was rare. Aragorn decided that he had a very dull and stoic companion.

While they journeyed in the flat, grassy plains beyond the Weather Hills, Aragorn's mind kept returning to Legolas' 'death' over and over again and the query of whether the elves had heard a crack or not. He bit his lip. I wish I knew the answer.

The endless circles his mind was going in were making him frustrated. To distract himself, he turned to Cossidh.

"How well did you know Prince Legolas?"

OoOoOoOo

"How well did you know Prince Legolas?"

Cossidh considered the inquiry and chewed on his cheek as fuzzy memories flashed through his mind, though the faces were blurred, he distinguished the elves' features: he and Thranduil's son clinking glasses of wine together at an autumn feast, laughing at the antics of Titton and Tathar as they imitated drunken humans singing a drinking song; he and the prince pondering the moves of the enemy and planning their next moves on a map of the great forest; he and the prince dodging and doing their best to avoid starry-eyed ellith

"Well enough," he replied, deciding that was a good enough answer for the adan.

Estel raised an eyebrow, apparently not impressed with the answer.

Cossidh quirked his lips and amended, "Well enough to call him a friend."

"What was he like?"

Does theadan's supply of questions ever diminish? Cossidh wondered. He drew in a deep breath filled with the scents of young plants before a somber and wistful mood descended upon him as he called up faint images of Thranduil's son. "He was quiet, never speaking a word unless he had to, and stern. He never liked being contradicted. He did not care much for reading, but preferred to be leading patrols or practicing with his weapons. As with all of the Royal family, he did his best to conceal what wounds he might receive in battle from others. He had the king's temper and would always seek reprisals. A fierce and interesting elf prince indeed."

Casting a look at his companion, Cossidh let out an exasperated breath at the sight of Estel's furrowed brows. Estel stroked the hilt of his sword, frowning. "That's not how Elladan and Elrohir described him."

Raising an eyebrow, the wood elf turned his attention back to the lands ahead. Indeed? I wonder what those twin terrors have been telling you...He kept a faintly disinterested expression on his face and chose to refrain from commenting aloud.

I almost wish we encountered some orcs on this venture. At least that would provide more excitement than this inquisitive ranger.

OoOoOoOo

Cossidh felt pleasure rippling through him when they reached the outskirts of the Trollshaws. They were not planning on going directly through the wood, just along the edges, but it was so good to be amongst trees!

Breezes played with the leaves and branches creaked as they waved. Squirrels paused on their errands to observe elf and man before chattering loudly and disappearing into the boughs. The trees rustled in greeting and the elf smiled. The Song here was rich and peaceful, not very deep and not very high either. A faster and energetic theme was caused by the squirrels and the birds' was light and melodious.

The wood elf paused and laid a long slender hand on the trunk of an aspen. The tree thrummed with delight at his touch and responded to his happiness in a faint whisper. Welcome, Sir Elf. It is long since one of your kind has sought to converse with one of us here.

Allowing his eyelids to close, Cossidh brushed a strand of light hair away from his face. Indeed. It is a pity none of my people dwell here. You are all very courteous.

A hum of appreciation rose from the trees. The aspen dipped a slender bough. You are too kind. But I fear we are delaying you. Your companion does not seem very happy.

Cossidh opened his eyes and saw Estel standing a few feet away with an expression the elf could not interpret on his face out of the corner of his eye. Yes, I do have to leave now. It was a pleasure to speak with you.

He let his hand drop from the bark of the aspen and turned to Estel, who was watching him with that odd expression, a mixture of amazement, disbelief, and long-suffering. "Yes?"

The ranger shook his head and started walking again. Cossidh caught up with him swiftly. Estel looked at him and seemed to be gathering his thoughts. "What is it like? Talking to trees."

"I suppose it is just like me talking to you or someone else." Cossidh answered with a touch of mirth.

"I mean...," Estel lifted a shoulder, "How do they talk? What are they like? Personality wise."

"It varies for each tree. They are just as different from each other as one elf or man is to another. Some, like the aspen, are soft spoken. Others, like the pine, have very deep and intense sentiments. Some trees are very cheerful and merry, but others are somber and quiet. Unfortunately, there are also trees with evil intents that will lull you to sleep while danger is near or do everything in their power to slow you when fighting or fleeing. The majority of trees, however, seek the happiness of others." Cossidh smiled as a murmur of agreement rose from around him.

The ranger nodded. "I see. Can wood elves talk to the earth and stones too?"

"That is the dwarves' specialty." He sniffed in disdain at the mere mention of dwarves. "However, yes. To some extent, we elves can indeed talk to the earth and stones."

Cossidh observed the young man's reactions and was displeased at the frown his contemptuous tone when speaking of the dwarves had brought on. Apparently, they differed on their opinions of the naugrim.

As they went on, he let his mind wander and spoke with each of the trees indirectly with a sense of deep satisfaction with the trees and some irritation at the ranger.

OoOoOoOo

Aragorn stumbled over a rut in the ground, but deftly regained his feet with almost elvish speed. He thought he heard a soft laugh from Cossidh, but was not entirely certain. The elf seemed to delight in making the few times Aragorn was clumsy bigger than they were. Though he had not shown it, Aragorn knew the wood elf was probably still surprised a human could move with a grace and balance close to the elves.

He chose to ignore Cossidh and not let him dampen his good mood. In a few hours, they would reach the borders of Rivendell. Aragorn was anticipating the reunion with his mother, Elrond, Elladan, Elrohir, Lindir, Glorfindel, Gloraelin…Basically all the elves. Especially Arwen.

I hope Elladan and Elrohir are at Rivendell and not hunting orcs as they do so frequently.

Aragorn hefted his pack higher on his shoulder and looked at the surrounding rocky landscape with trees scattered hither and thither, thinking of the lush gardens of Rivendell.

It was interesting how after walking for a length of time, he fell into the rhythm and could continue for hours. He snorted softly when he realized he thought that every time he had nothing else to do and was out venturing.

They breasted a rise several hours later and Aragorn was pleased to see the sun lighting the valley. The graceful trees rose up from the ground with a stately air, flowers of gold, lilac, rose, turquoise, ivory, and orange were all growing with amazing vitality and looked perfect in every section they were in, vines twined around elegant white trellises and tree trunk. Silver streams wound their way through the valley with the sun reflecting off their diamond waters. The rocks and waterfalls were touched by the golden rays and the mists rising from the base of each waterfall added an ethereal quality to the haven. The pastel buildings were built around the trees, some having them growing through them, so as not to impede nature.

Aragorn sighed happily as sweet bird song met his ears and grinned at Cossidh's awed expression.

"Welcome to Rivendell."

OoOoOoOo

Next chapter, we find out what's going on in Mirkwood. Should be interesting. As always, Constructive criticism is very much appreciated.