See chapter one for a note on the date/time/etc...

Elrond Peredhel, Lord of Imladris, rode through the gates of Greenwood the Great nervously. Its former King, Oropher, had been a cold and distant elf, one who Elrond was sure did not like him. He'd met the son, then Crown Prince Thranduil, during the War. Thranduil had been stern, taller even then Elrond, and had a stare on him that would intimidate even the bravest of souls. He was also a brilliant fighter, and rumour had it had tried to prevent his father from charging at Dagorlad. The Prince had managed to scrape together the rest of Greenwood's army, the fay and fell Silvan elves, and rebuild Greenwood. Thranduil had apparently attempted to declare himself a simple Lord, but his people would not hear it. And thus, Thranduil, the elf many found too proud and too quick to anger, had been declared King of Greenwood the Great.

The Silvan elves had to see something in him that Elrond and his fellows could not.

Elrond shook himself slightly, knowing he was being too hard on the other elf. They'd barely spoken ten words to one another after all. The rest was just rumour. Thranduil's somewhat distant cousin, the wonderful Celebrian, spoke highly of him, as did her father Lord Celeborn. The Lady Galadriel was more reserved in her judgment, but that was normal for the ancient elf.

Elrond had elected to come alone, save for two guards. The roads were mostly safe now, and he was able to defend himself from the rare pack of roving orcs. Erestor had been cross, but Elrond had needed him to govern Imladris in his absence. Elrond suspected his longtime friend and counsellor simply wanted to see him put off balance by the Elvenking, and was annoyed he wouldn't get the chance.

"Mae Govannen, Lord Elrond," a deep voice called out. Elrond looked up, seeing a slender elf with long dark hair and equally dark eyes giving him a neutral look.

He nodded formally, dismounting from his horse. Behind him his companions did the same. Wood Elves instantly appeared, taking the horses and their luggage. "Mae Govannen," he said in return, giving the unknown elf a smile. He was dressed in simple robes, but carried himself with a great deal of confidence.

"I am Galion, senechal to Aran Thranduil," he introduced himself. "Welcome to Greenwood."

"Thank you, Lord Galion," Elrond replied, respect for this elf rising. He wore no symbols of adornment for one in such a high position, and had an air of quiet confidence to him.

Galion chuckled lightly, gesturing for Elrond and his two companions to follow him. "Just Galion, if you please," he said. "Your chambers are prepared for you," he continued, "as I am sure you would like to rest and refresh yourselves after your journey. Food can be brought to you in your quarters if you wish, or you are more than welcome to eat in the Great Hall. Aran Thranduil is otherwise occupied in one of the settlements nearby, but will be back at the palace to meet with you tomorrow."

"We arrived early," Elrond responded immediately. "Please accept my apology for the inconvenience."

Galion waved him off again, leading him and his guards through the bright hallways of Greenwoods palace. Vines crept inside, and small woodland animals scurried across their path. It was exactly like what Elrond expected the palace of the King of the Wood Elves to look like. They followed a meandering path, watching as Galion called out greeting to various elves and as woodland creatures fluttered about chattering away. Elrond had the distinct impression they (along with the trees just outside) were gossiping about him and his companions, but resolved not to ask. He didn't need to know.

Several turns later Galion stopped. "Here, my lords, are your chambers for you stay." He gestured to two doors, the doors invitingly open. "Lord Elrond, if you would follow me a bit more?" Elrond wondered if the trees had carried the news of his bringing two companions, allowing Galion the time to prepare chambers. He had, after all, said he was coming alone in his initial correspondence.

Elrond nodded reassuringly to his guards raised eyebrows, stifling a laugh when they darted into their seperate rooms for a much needed bath and rest once they'd been assured of his permission. Galion led him a short way more, before stopping before a brightly lit room.

Elrond was impressed despite himself. The room was beautiful, and reminded him of the tales his elders had told him of Doriath - little wonder, as Oropher had been a prince of that long ago elven realm. The stone walls were washed with a white paint, making the room feel even lighter and larger. And, as with everywhere he'd seen thus far in the palace, plants were everywhere.

"I hope the room is to your satisfaction?"

Elrond turned to smile at his guide. "It is beautiful Galion, and very peaceful. Thank you."

The seneschal nodded to him. "There is running water for a bath if you would like. A servant could be sent or…?"

"I would prefer to run it myself," Elrond confirmed, wanting some time to himself after the journey.

"Very good my Lord. Would you like your supper sent here?"

"No, thank you," Elrond responded immediately. "I would be happiest to eat in the Great Hall."

"Of course," Galion said, as though he'd expected nothing else. "Dinner begins at 6:00, though there are always elves in the Great Hall socializing amongst each other. Any of the guards will be able to direct you there," he finished, clearly sensing that the elf lord wanted to be alone with his thoughts.

"Hannon le, my friend," Elrond said, truly appreciative. He hadn't been sure what type of reception he would receive in Greenwood, but so far all of his expectations (some of them admittedly misplaced and judgemental) were being surpassed.

Galion bowed once more, before leaving the room on silent feet, and closed the wooden door softly behind himself. Elrond sighed, stretching his back as he observed the room. A large bed covered in white sheets and inviting pillows drew his attention, the four posts carved into the shape of vines and covered with gauzy curtains. He resisted the urge to lie down in the bed, and instead made his way to the adjacent chamber for a bath.

It would be most rude to show up for dinner smelling of days spent travelling.

Thranduil adjusted his sleeping elfling in his arms, making a soft shushing sound when the toddler made a noise in his sleep. It was late, far later then he wanted it to be, but that could not be helped. His meeting with the elves of the outlying settlements in Greenwood had taken far longer than he'd planned for. He suspected the only reason they'd acquiesced to his leaving was little Legolas requesting to go home, as he would not be able to sleep without his stuffed wolf.

No elf could resist a child, and Legolas was particularly charming if he did say so himself.

A large part of him still could not believe that the Silvan people wanted him to be their King. He had been content to live among them in peace without ruling them, but his people had not accepted that. He had been their prince, the one who had fought for them and fought with them. The Sindar prince who had married a Silvan commoner. Who had learned their language and listened to their woes. They would accept nothing else than his becoming King. And they adored his son.

He'd expected to meet with the leaders of the settlement, but instead had been drawn into a day of merrymaking. Legolas, his little light, had had the time of his young life. The youngest member of this particular settlement had been several centuries his elder, so his little leaf had been suitably adored. Thranduil did not think a moment passed where someone or another hadn't been playing with the toddler.

Thankfully, elves did not become spoiled.

He rode through the gates, Legolas a warm weight in the sling across his chest, to the soft greetings from his people. Most were asleep, or dancing under the stars in the open clearings nearby. The few elves on duty knew to be quiet, especially when they noticed the tiny elfling held against their King's chest.

"Mae govannen Aran nin," Falasser, one of the Captains of his guard greeted softly. He came up to Thranduil, holding his elk steady so the King could dismount without jostling the young Prince.

"Hannon le, Falasser," Thranduil said, giving the much younger elf a tired smile. The captain bowed, before leaving, taking his loyal elk with him.

Thranduil stood in the courtyard for a moment, feeling the peace that permeated the palace. His people were happy. The trees were happy. He himself could feel his Legolas' heartbeat, feel his soft breath, sense that the most important thing in his world was safe. He was not happy, he did not know if he could ever be truly happy again without his wife by his side, but he was content enough.

Legolas made another baby sound in his sleep, and Thranduil chucked softly. "Time for bed penneth," he murmured.

"Sire!"

"Galion, I did not expect to see you awake," he smiled, making his way into the palace. His senechal kept pace beside him.

"I spent some time speaking with Lord Elrond of Imladris," Galion explained, though he was not looking at Thranduil. He, like nearly everyone else when confronted with a sleeping elfing, was watching Legolas sleep with a soppy expression on his youthful face.

Thranduil raised a dark brow. "He is here already?"

"He apologised," Galion said. "And says he is quite content to explore Greenwood until you are able to meet with him. Last I saw him he was entertaining a group of out warriors with a story of his own youth."

"I shall meet with him tomorrow," Thranduil mused. "Best not keep him waiting."

Galion shook his head as they stepped through the door leading to the royal quarters. "I do not think he would mind either way Aran nin," he mused. "He had exceeded my expectation. Especially considering he is a Noldor."

Thranduil rolled his eyes. "Don't let anyone hear you say that."

His oldest friend laughed at him. "Truly though, I believe you will like this Lord Elrond."

"As always, I trust your judgment."

Galion rolled his eyes at his sarcastic comment, before opening the door to his bedchamber for him. He knew he should start trying to have Legolas sleep in his own bedchamber, which was still technically the nursery just off of his father's bedchamber, but he could not bear the idea of being separated from his son. Legolas was the last bit of his beloved, the only reason he had not faded at her death, which had come so soon after the death of his father and nearly a third of Greenwoods armies. And Legolas himself was barely out of babyhood. There was no need to force him to grow up, to force him away from his only remaining family.

"Good night sire," Galion said, before giving the sleeping bundle in his arms a quick caress. He was gone seconds later, so silent that even Thranduil could no hear his departure.

Choosing to ignore his old friend, as he often did, he lifted Legolas from the sling and gently placing him in the middle of the bed, least he roll off and onto the stone floor. His son wiggled slightly, before slipping more deeply into elvish dreams. Thranduil dressed himself for sleep quickly, thankful that he had undressed Legolas down to his tunic before placing him in the sling. He didn't want to wake him needlessly.

A large part of him was nervous to meet Elrond, who was well renowned throughout Middle Earth. They'd met before during the war, but not for long enough to form any lasting bond. Hopefully they could change that now. Sauron was not truly defeated after all, and they would all need as many allies as they could get.

As though sensing his father's tumultuous thoughts Legolas began to wake up, green eyes focusing on his father's form silhouetted by the light of the stars.

"Ada?"

"You're supposed to be sleeping ion-nin," the king whispered kindly, turning away from the open balcony to sit on the edge of the bed.

"So are you," Legolas yawned, thumb inching towards his mouth. Thranduil chucked, maneuvering himself under the covers.

"You are correct, tithin lass," he murmured. Immediately, Legolas latched onto him, curling himself into his father's side and falling back into elven dreams almost instantly. Thranduil took a moment to watch the beloved features, banishing all thoughts of the elf Lord enjoying his hospitality, and allowed himself to follow his son into dreams.

Elrond made his way down to the Great Hall, sleep having eluded him once again. His foresight had been troubling him, and the little sleep he'd managed had not been particularly restful. Nor had his foresight been clear annoyingly, just snatches of colour and conversation.

No matter. Visions always sorted themselves out in time, one way or another.

He meandered slowly, taking in the architecture of the palace, appreciating the ample greenery. This place made Imladris look tame. There was a wildness to its nature, to its very people. Many of his fellow Noldo were quick to deride the Silvan elves (Elrond himself was guilty of this) but after spending the night talking and singing with a large group of them… well, Elrond was having to rethink many of his own prejudices.

The Silvan people were more connected to nature than any other elves he had met. They heard the voices of the trees constantly, could hear the song of the stars clearly, and (much to Elrond's bemused surprised) seem to understand the voices of all woodland animals as well. Elrond wasn't sure if they were teasing him or not, but they seemed sincere. They also, Elrond noted, knew how to party. When he'd retired to his chambers his fellow elves seemed no closer to seeking their own beds, content instead to continue dancing under the stars.

He could not say he understood them completely, but he was coming to respect them and their ways.

He had not asked about King Thranduil, not wanting to offend his hosts, but had listened to the talk around him. It was at odds with Thranduil's (and Oropher's) reputation beyond Greenwoods borders. The Silvan people loved their King wholeheartedly, and his son even more so. Elrond himself had not children yet, but like all elves adored them. He hoped he would be able to meet the little Prince before he left to return home to Imladris.

He stopped at the entrance to the Great Hall, surprised when he heard someone softly speaking. It was very early - he had not expected anyone else to be there. He continued walking, glancing into the large room. Initially he thought there was only one elf, the Elvenking himself, before seeing the small elfling held on his lap. Breakfast was just being set up by the servants in the hall, but Thranduil had a half eaten plate in front on his, one that had clearly been brought out early. The little Prince was sitting on his father's lap, holding onto a long lock of pale hair. Thranduil was staring at him lovingly as he chattered away, seemingly not caring about the small honey covered hand gripping his hair.

He looked up.

Elrond immediately felt as though he was being dissected when those blue eyes turned to him and fought the urge to flush. He and Thranduil were of an age with one another, and both rulers in their own right. Elrond refused to show fear, for all that Thranduil was one of the most intimidating elves he'd ever met.

Even with an adorable toddler on his lap.

"Lord Elrond," Thranduil said, nodding at him. "Good morning to you. I did not expect to see you up so early."

Elrond bowed when he came closer to the King. The prince, finally noticing him, let go of his Father's hair, and looked up at Elrond with curious emerald eyes. Despite his nerves Elrond smiled. The prince was as adorable as his people had claimed. "Aran Thranduil. I am used to rising early," he explained, not wanting to explain about his foresight. "I am sorry if I am intruding on your time with your son."

Thranduil quirked a dark eyebrow. "No apologies are needed my Lord," he said, voice kind. Elrond released a breath. "Please, sit and enjoy some food."

Elrond sat near the King and Prince, smiling his thanks as a servant brought him a plate of food. It all looked delicious.

The little prince stopped his observations, turning to his father and chattering away in the language of the Silvan people.

"Sindarin, Legolas," the King scolded. "It is rude to speak in front of others in a language which they do not understand."

"Sorry Ada," Legolas said brightly, not sounding sorry at all. The toddler looked back to Elrond, a smile on his adorable face.

Elrond grinned. The little Prince was one of the most adorable elflings he'd ever seen, and it looked like he knew it. "Good morrow Prince Legolas," he said once he'd swallowed a sip of juice.

Legolas' smile widened. "Hello Lord Elrond," he chirped in his high child's voice. He was not able to properly say 'Elrond' in his tender years, so it came out as 'Elwond' intead. Elrond could not bring himself to care.

Thranduil tapped Legolas on the hand when it became apparent nothing more would be forthcoming.

"Oh! How are you my Lord?" The child asked slowly. His speech was slightly slow, as though he was saying something he'd rehearsed several times, but well said and it was apparent he was trying very hard.

"I am very well Prince Legolas, thank you so much for asking."

The little boy blushed, going back to chewing on a piece of the Elvenking's long hair.

"And how are you?" Elrond asked gently, not wanting to scare he child, but also wanting to put off talking to his at times terrifying father.

Legolas glanced up at his father, who was sipping from his own goblet, before looking back at Elrond with a shy expression. "I am well, thank you," he replied, before darting out a pale hand to grab a piece of fruit off of the plate to stave off further conversation, stuffing it into his mouth.

Above him, Thranduil rolled his eyes, extracting his now sodden and fruit covered hair from his sons mouth. "A word of advice, Lord Elrond," he stated dryly. "When you are blessed with children, do not expect to remain clean throughout their tender years."

Elrond huffed a bemused laugh. The last thing he'd expected upon meeting Thranduil was to see the King with his small son on his lap, while said son ate his hair. "I will certainly bear that it mind, Aran nin," he chuckled, slathering some delicious looking butter on a steaming bun.

"Please," Thranduil drawled, putting his own mouthful in. "Call me Thranduil. We are both ruler in our own right."

"Ada!" Legolas cut in, gesturing excitedly to some birds fluttering in the open balcony doors. They chirped to the elfling, who giggled at them, nearly tumbling from Thranduil's lap in his glee.

"I see ion-nin," Thranduil observed indulgently, watching as a bird dropped a flower onto his elflings head before darting back out the door.

Elrond stared with wide eyes. Beloved by the forest indeed…

Legolas stood on his father's lap, wobbling for a moment before Thranduil steadied him automatically, still eating his own breakfast. The small toddler stood on his bare toes, reaching up to Thranduil's head. The King had his platinum hair loose, and was dressed in naught but a loose tunic and leggings. Legolas was dressed in what appeared to be a nighshirt, his own hair slightly sunnier and a complete mess.

"There Ada!" Legolas declared, plopping himself back down to sit on Thranduil's lap after sticking the bloom behind the Elvenking's ear.

"Thank you, ion-nin," The King murmured, bringing a goblet to his son's lips. Legolas took a sip obediently.

Elrond smiled into his breakfast. He no longer thought he would have to be nervous around King Thranduil. The other elf was still intimidating, was still brilliantly smart, and Elrond was sure they would have some interesting discussions when they spoke more formally.

But no one who doted so much on their child could be anything but kind underneath it all.

The little prince had apparently finished with his breakfast, and chattered away to his father in the Silvan language briefly, switching back to Sindarin when Thranduil raised an eyebrow to him. "Oops, sorry."

"It is alright, ion-nin," Thranduil reassured him. "Elrond does not mind."

Elrond started slightly, not having expected being singled out. "Of course not, Prince Legolas. You speak more languages than I did at your age."

Legolas stared at him in surprise, as though unable to picture an adult, one that was close in age to his Ade, being a child.

"You will have to excuse us," Thranduil interjected smoothly, standing with Legolas perched in his arms. The toddler threw his arms around his father's neck, placing a smacking sticky kiss on the high cheekbone. "We have an appointment that cannot be missed."

"We're going to say hello to the trees in Nana's grove!" Legolas explained, his voice high pitched and excited, with a slight lisp, indicating still coming teeth.

Elrond stood as well, inclining his head to the King. "Of course," he said, smiling once more at Legolas.

Legolas waved cheerfully at him before yammering to his father in Silvan. Elrond watched the two leave until he could no longer see Thranduil's tall and slender form, before tucking back into his breakfast, looking forwards to meeting the little prince again.

Unexpected meetings indeed.

As in chapter one (or fic one to be more accurate) please let me know if you have any prompts! And thank you SO SO SO much for the people who commented on the first part - it honestly made my day and I loved reading what you thought so much.