A/N: Firstly may I say thank you to all the people who checked out the first chapter of this story: 100+ in the first few days! It definitely broke a personal record! It was wonderful to see such interest taken in this rather innocent and non-angsty story! Hopefully you'll all come back to read the rest of it! :D

I'm posting this chapter a day early as I've got a special dinner to go to tomorrow evening - unfortunately not with Thranduil and his Elves! ;) It's quite a bit shorter than the last one but I had to split it from the third (which incidentally is the longest). I hope you enjoy it - and rest assured little Estel is not too far away!

To all those fantastic people who have already added this story (or myself) to their favourite/follow list, I do indeed thank you most sincerely. And a special heartfelt thank you goes out to the lovely folk who left such positive and encouraging reviews - to you, PegasusWingsVW, CoffeeRanger and PlaidOtaku, I dedicate this chapter. Your reviews made my day that much brighter!

Part 2 – The Truth Revealed

The evening was far advanced with the night sky filled with the bright light of the stars when Thranduil seated himself within the small private chamber belonging to Elrond. The feast had passed merrily, with such food as to satisfy even the most hearty of appetites; and now both he and his host had taken leave of the company in the Hall of Fire, where the elvish minstrels could still be heard singing their songs of past glories and sorrow, to discuss in seclusion the matter that had prompted Elrond to summon him.

'I confess my curiosity can no longer remain unsatisfied,' Thranduil announced bluntly. 'Elrond, why did you send for me?'

His grey eyes now solemn and devoid of any mirth, the Master of Imladris slowly lowered himself onto his own chair as though a great weight rested upon him. And Thranduil, his concerned gaze fixed intently upon his friend, felt a wave of foreboding wash over him as a deep sigh preceded Elrond's reply.

'Arathorn, son of Arador, has fallen.'

His eyes widening at the grave announcement, Thranduil's expression turned grim as Elrond continued: 'He accompanied my sons when they rode out to hunt a pack of Orcs that were terrorising some villages in the south. They succeeded in tracking them down, but sadly Arathorn was slain by an orc-arrow that pierced straight through his eye. He was killed outright with no chance of saving him.'

As Elrond's voice fell silent a quiet pause descended upon the chamber. Then, his voice warm with compassion, Thranduil finally spoke.

'These are grievous tidings indeed,' he said softly, 'especially given so little time has passed since Arador was slain by the hill-trolls in the Coldfells. I join with you in mourning the death of another who was descended from your brother Elros' line and who had proved himself a good and decent man. But I must own I am quite puzzled as to why you required my presence here to apprise me of the news; in the past you have always sent a messenger who would also advise of the name of the new Chieftain in the event they ever travelled through my realm or required my aid.'

'You know the enemy has long held the desire to destroy any who belong to that bloodline in an attempt to prevent the restoration of the kingship of Men.' At Thranduil's nod, Elrond went on to reveal, 'now their numbers are greatly diminished and within a very short time, a mere twenty one years in the reckoning of men, we have lost three generations of Isildur's line: Argonui, son of Arathorn the First; Arador, son of Argonui; and now Arathorn the Second, son of Arador. At the time of their inheriting the title of Chieftain of the Dúnedain all were mature and hardened warriors, as were all those who came before them, so while danger threatened their lives there was the knowledge that they stood a fair chance of vanquishing it.'

Thranduil frowned. 'And the current situation is different?' he asked.

'It is.' Looking directly at his guest, Elrond said quietly, 'we know that Sauron has been actively seeking to discover the Heir of Isildur, who is now only a young child of two mortal years in age – a mere babe that would be defenceless against any attack initiated by the enemy. It is my intention to conceal the boy's true name and lineage until such time as he has grown in wisdom and strength.'

'And that is why you requested my presence here rather than send the name of the new Chieftain by messenger as you have in the past,' Thranduil said solemnly, 'you dared not take any risk of the information being discovered.'

'Yes,' Elrond affirmed with a nod. 'Even the death of Arathorn has not been widely proclaimed in an attempt to conceal the truth for as long as possible. The Dúnedain are aware of the danger to the boy and so will also guard his identity. Arathorn's widow, Gilraen, has brought her son here to Imladris; but to those who do not know the truth she will be known only as a bereaved wife who has lost her husband and seeks comfort within these halls.'

'And what of the child?'

'He too is to remain here under my protection,' Elrond answered, 'and I have bestowed upon him the name of Estel.'

An appreciative twinkle suddenly lit the Elvenking's eyes and glancing at his friend he slightly quirked one eyebrow. 'A rather befitting name,' he observed with a brief smile. Then, his expression sobering once more, Thranduil asked, 'am I to be informed of the child's true name at this time?'

'You will be one of the few outside of the Dúnedain to be told,' Elrond replied, 'for never have you hesitated to provide aid to those of my brother's line when it was asked of you, and not once have you ever broken my trust since first we met in Lindon. I ask only that you not divulge the information to anyone – not even to your son.'

'On my honour I give you my word I will speak of this to no one,' Thranduil promised. 'And there is no being in these lands who could draw the secret from me.'

'Of that I have not the slightest doubt,' Elrond said with a reminiscent smile, 'for I have never known you to disclose anything against your will, my dear friend, no matter what method was used to question you.' Then lowering his voice he confided, 'the child's true name is Aragorn.'

Thranduil sat in silence for a long moment, his ancient eyes shadowed. Finally he murmured, 'it is a name that carries great responsibility and the little one is much too young to be so heavily burdened. Estel was a wise choice and will allow the child to develop the strength required to bear his rightful name when that time comes to pass.'

'Which shall not be for some years,' Elrond stated emphatically. 'However, I am sure he will no doubt follow in his forefathers footsteps and seek to join my sons in their pursuit of raiding Orcs. The boy already shows a predilection for seeking out adventure and displays an extremely curious nature. I have come to dread the sound of his nurse's cries for they normally herald another disappearance or minor disaster.'

A smile of pure amusement appeared on Thranduil's face. 'If I recall correctly both your sons and my own enjoyed behaving in a similar fashion,' he said lightly, 'but no harm ever befell them for they could never get far without being found. I am therefore sure that no misfortune will come to the child whilst he dwells in your home.' Rising to his feet the Elvenking's robes rustled softly as he gave a slight bow. 'Now with your leave, Elrond, as we have addressed the main purpose for my visit I will withdraw to the eastern garden. The journey was not without its perils and I would seek rest in the peaceful solitude.'

'Be pleased to treat my home as your own,' Elrond invited graciously as he too rose from his chair. 'And you know you are always welcome within its halls. Will you make a long stay? For far too seldom do you make the journey hither from the east.'

'Regretfully it must be a brief visit,' Thranduil answered, 'for I must return to my realm ere the last month of summer ends and the final days of spring are almost upon us.'

'A short period to enjoy your company indeed,' Elrond said as he made his way toward the door. 'And scarce enough time in which to discuss everything I should wish, but it will be sufficient to hear your news of Legolas.'

'You overestimate my ability to control my prideful boasting of him,' Thranduil remarked humorously, his eyes alight with paternal affection. 'Were I to stay several hundred years it would not provide the time it would require to adequately tell of his achievements.'

Laughing merrily Elrond opened the door to allow his guest to depart. 'I will not refute your ability to do that,' he replied as Thranduil passed him, 'for I know I am the same with my own children. Now go and enjoy the quiet of the garden, my friend, and I shall look to see you after the sun has risen. Good night.'

References:

"There was the sound, too, of elven-harps and of sweet music; and as it echoed up towards them it seemed that the chill of the air was warmed; and they caught faintly the fragrance of woodland flowers blossoming in spring." Narrative in The Hobbit, Chapter 15 – The Gathering of the Clouds

In reference to Thranduil providing aid to a Chieftain of the Dúnedain (descendants of Isildur's line) or having one of them travel through his realm, in Unfinished Tales, Part 3: The Third Age, Chapter 1 – Disaster of the Gladden Fields, it describes how Isildur, his three sons and 200 hundred men were "passing the north borders of the Gladden Fields, marching along a path that led to Thranduil's realm" when they were attacked. It later states that: "There were rescuers who came on the scene too late, but in time to disturb the Orcs and prevent their mutilation of the bodies: for there were certain Woodmen who got news to Thranduil by runners…." It seems clear that Thranduil was not above providing assistance when it was asked of him.

"Aragorn was only two years old (born 1 March 2931) when Arathorn went riding against the Orcs with the sons of Elrond, and he was slain (2933)…Then Aragorn, being now Heir of Isildur, was taken with his mother (Gilraen) to dwell in the house of Elrond; and Elrond took the place of his father and came to love him as a son of his own. But he was called Estel, that is "Hope", and his true name and lineage were kept secret at the bidding of Elrond; for the Wise then knew that the Enemy was seeking to discover the Heir of Isildur, if any remained upon earth." On Aragorn and Elrond from Lord of the Rings, Appendix A (v) Here Follows a Part of the Tale of Aragorn & Arwen

"2850 – Gandalf again enters Dol Guldur, and discovers that its master is indeed Sauron, who is gathering all the Rings and seeking for news of the One, and of Isildur's Heir." Lord of the Rings, Appendix B, The Tale of Years – The Third Age