The sky was black and heavy with rain. Legolas could feel it hitting the waxed material of his cloak, not penetrating the fabric but leaving a lingering cold sensation that did not make the chill any better. Still, he ignored it and pressed onwards. The ground was thick with mud and even with the light step of an elf, he found it weighing and slowing. His boots were ruined and the leather soaked. His tunic was worn from days of travel and he was tired. He was tired and hungry and worn. Miles of walking had not turned out anything and Thranduil had refused to help search beyond his territory. Namir had been missing for months now with no sign and Legolas was scared for him. Where was he?

The land was dark and even his sight could not see more than a hundred yards in front of him. The sky rumbled ominously and the rain seemed to pick up pace. The plains on the other side of the misty mountains were hidden by the storm. He had scoured the misty mountains all from the north of Beorn's territory towards Rohan in the south. It had turned up nothing. No tracks, to sightings of a black cat or any foul creatures. Now he was on the other side and heading west towards Rivendale in hopes that there was news from Elrond and his kin there. That was his intention but he needed to find someone first. Thranduil had advised that he seeked out the Rangers as they were known for their tracking skills. They were also nomads and were more likely to hold information on who he searched. 

It was nearing dawn and the sky showed no signs of lightening when he spotted the flickering light of a fire ahead. It was mostly hidden under a rocky outcropping that served to shelter the travellers from the worst of the weather but the flames still glinted. Legolas pulled his hood down and changed direction towards it, feet soundless on the mud and grass. Only one shadow was silhouetted by the fire. It seemed to be a man, sitting close to the fire with his hood up and a pipe sticking from his mouth. The rocks towering over him provided slight cover from the storm but rain still pattered his leather coat and the fire hissed and spat. Legolas caught the gleam of a hilt at the man's side. He should be cautious. 

He was almost close enough for the fire light to catch on him when the head of the man turned. "Who goes there? Come out". The voice spoke in the tongue of man and held no defining accent. Legolas couldn't see the man's face but could guess that he was probably in his late twenties. 

The elf stepped into the light, arms visibly at his sides and hands empty. "I'm just a traveller wondering if I could share your fire on this cold night". He made sure to keep his voice calm and clear. 

The hooded man chuckled and a tanned hand, rough with calluses took the pipe from his mouth. A cloud of smoke blew into the air as he spoke. "Why is an elf travelling alone?" 

Legolas blinked in surprise at being found out so easily. "I am searching for something". He replied after a second. 

The man studied him for a moment. Silence apart from the hissing fire and the pattering of rain on waxed cloaks. Then the man waved a hand at the fire. "Your accent is too Elvish. Sit and tell me what you are searching for". Legolas felt some relief at the words. The storm really was horrid. He swept up his cloak under his legs as he sat down on a rock at the side of the fire, immediately holding out his hands to bring some warmth to his chilled fingertips. (Winter storms even made elves feel cold). 

"What is your name?" 

The man took a breath of his pipe and exhaled a perfect smoke ring before answering. "Many call me Strider". 

Legolas nodded. "I am Legolas, of the Greenwood". 

"I thought that the Greenwood was more commonly known as Mirkwood now", Strider replied smoothly. 

"It may have grown murky but it was a Greenwood in my youth". 

"Alright, Legolas of the Greenwood. What is it you seek? Share your tale in return for me sharing my fire". Strider shifted so that he was facing Legolas more head-on and the elf caught a glimpse of a dark stubble covered chin. 

The elf took a breath. "I am seeking for a man called Aragorn. I believe he can help me find the person I am looking for". 

Strider hummed. "Who is it that you seek so desperately that you would search for a stranger to help you?"

Legolas watched the flames flicker. "My father said that Aragorn's father was a good man and that Aragorn could grow to be a great one. He is a ranger and I am in need of a ranger. They know a lot about middle earth, more than me". He took a breath. Strider's gaze was piercing despite the hoods covering both their faces.  "I am looking for my lover". 

"Are you sure your lover did not just run away?" Strider's voice was amused. 

Legolas flicked his head round in anger. "No. He was taken. He would not leave his home, his family so easily. He must have been taken! I need to find him". 

"Whoa, calm my elvish friend", Strider held up both hands placatingly. "I mean no offence. But can I ask how you know he was taken?" 

Legolas watched him as he answered slowly, distrustfully. "He took no supplies. No food or clothing. He and his father are all the other has. My lover would not leave his only family without a word".

"But why are you searching, instead of his father?"

"Because his father still hopes that his son will come home. They have a lot of land and if he left, others will try to seize it from them. It was easier for me to go. I can travel better than his father". 

"And your searching for this Aragorn fellow to help you find your lover?" 

"Yes". The statement was met with brief silence. The rain pattering on the rocks and the occasional drop that met the flames hissed with a spitting spark. Legolas buried his hands into the warmth under his cloak and sighed. He missed Namir dreadfully, with a dull ache that throbbed in his chest. Was Namir safe? Was he warm and dry? He could only hope. 

"Who took him?" Strider asked, voice low in the rain. 

Legolas drew a sharp breath and exhaled mournfully. "I believe it was orcs". 

"Then he's most likely dead. Orcs don't often keep captive. How long have you been searching?" 

"I have been searching for five years. But he isn't dead. He is worth more alive than dead, I have to believe that". Legolas met the man's eyes across the flames. They were a darker shade of blue than his own. "Hope is all I have". He ignored the note of sorrow in his voice. Five years and he had found nothing, returning once a year to Beorn's cottage to see the grief on his face. 

Strider hummed and tossed a dry stick into the fire from the pile of sheltered wood next to him. "And you hope this Aragorn fellow will help you find your lover?" 

"Will you?" Legolas saw no need to keep pretending. 

Strider, Aragorn, paused. "Aye", he sighed finally. "I will but you're paying for all of it". 

"I can do that", Legolas sighed in relief, a small smile flittering across his face. "Thank you, Aragorn son of Arathorn".

"I cannot promise that I will find him", Aragorn cautioned. "He might not even be alive if we do". 

"Even if he is dead, I owe it to his father to return his body", Legolas muttered. "I need to know". 

Aragorn sighed. "I look forward to journeying with you Legolas". He held out a hand and Legolas took it, the rain dripping over their skin. 

"And I too Aragorn". Their hands separated. 

"Who is this lover of yours that we seek?" Aragorn asked, more conversationally and relaxed than the beginning of the conversation had been. 

Legolas let his shoulders drop slightly. "His name is Namir and he is a skin changer". 

unedited