"Legolas..." A voice whispered in his ear, rousing him out of his sleep with hot breath tickling his ear. "Wake up, sleepy Prince. We have a surprise for you."

The Prince rolled over and put a pillow over his head with a grunt and a string of unhappy mumbling.

"I don't think he wants his present, brother," Elladan said.

Elrohir sat down on the edge of Legolas' bed and started to bounce, jarring the sleeping, uncooperative wood-elf with every movement. "What if we tell him it is what he has been wanting to find all winter. Or should I say who he has been eager to find all winter?"

Legolas lifted the pillow a fraction to glare at Elrohir, "Stop. I feel like I am in a tiny boat caught in a storm."

"We are only trying to help you, mellon," Elladan added, joining his brother on the bed on Legolas' other side and bouncing, too. "The Rangers are here."

"You should bathe."

"And put on your prettiest tunic."

"And comb your hair."

"Then, we can introduce you to Strider."

"And we can get a good laugh when he gets his first look at the present King Thranduil sent him."

"Estel has never met King Thranduil. Or any Iathrim besides Lord Celeborn, and we are going to enjoy watching him swallow his tongue and drool on his tunic."

"He could be so shocked he bites his tongue completely off."

"More likely it will just hang out of his mouth, much as it did the first time he saw Arwen."

Legolas gave up trying to sleep and threw back his blankets. "Fine. I'm up. You can go now."

"I could help you with your bath," Elrohir said, wagging his eyebrows.

The Prince rolled his eyes and waved a hand in the direction of the door. "Out. I can manage to bathe myself."

"Where is the fun in that?"

Legolas ignored the twins, walking past them into the bathing room, stripping off the undershirt and leggings he slept in, and settling into the hot mineral water.

After the bath, he returned to his room to find the twins laid out his clothes for him. Not his finest clothing, but the tunic and pants were clean and fairly new and the deep green color Legolas found he preferred with an over tunic of pale blue.

The hour was early enough to find the main hall largely empty save for the head table where Lord Elrond was breaking his fast with Glorfindel and Erestor. They noticed his approach and waved him over once Legolas filled his plate.

"You look as though you could use another hour or two in your bunk, young one," Glorfindel told him.

Legolas shrugged, carefully sipping his tea before he replied, "The sons of Elrond seem to disagree."

"I am sorry, Legolas, if my sons are too enthusiastic today. They are happy to see the return of the Rangers. It may seem unlikely, but Elladan and Elrohir are very protective of those I foster here. They can be as meddlesome as mother hens." He gave the Prince a reassuring smile, "When you are finished, we will go to my office. Some first meetings should be done without an audience."

The wood-elf was grateful for Lord Elrond's consideration, and he told him as much, earning a pat on the shoulder from the Elf-lord. "I didn't know Thranduil knew Arathorn. It will be interesting to see what you make of his son, and what he makes of you."

Later...

"Did you know my father?" The dark haired Man asked him, his intensely blue eyes guarded, while his manner was cautiously appraising.

Legolas shook his head. "I did not. My father spoke highly of him, though, the King said he was a good Man."

Aragorn, for that was his true name, frowned. "Your father is King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm."

"Yes."

"I've never been to Mirkwood."

Legolas winced. His father hated the other people renaming of his territory as it fell under the spell of the evil at Dul Guldur. It was a constant reminder to the King of his failure to protect what was his.

"I've offended you by calling it Mirkwood," Aragorn hastened to say. "I apologize, my Lord."

"Mirkwood is what the southern lands around Dul Guldur are called. The common name does not offend as much as it saddens me. The decline of the forest and the darkness creeping across the land, or more precisely what to do about it, is the cause for my taking leave from the Woodland Realm to put some time and distance between the King and myself." He gave a wan smile, "If it is all the same, I would prefer if you did not address me as Lord or Prince."

Aragorn blinked at him in surprise, obviously not sure what to make of Prince who didn't want to be address as a Prince and was at odds with his King. He politely changed the subject, and Legolas liked him for it. "You were in the battle for Erebor and Dale."

"For all the good it did, I was. Thorin Oakenshield and his heirs died despite emptying my quiver into Azog and Bolg and every other Orc unfortunate enough to cross my path in Ravenhill."

"I cannot imagine so many armies in one battle," the young Man breathed, an unhealthy amount of awe in his tone. "Dwarves and Elves and Men fighting together, it must have been glorious, and chaotic."

Legolas added, "Do not forget the War Bats and Great Eagles and more Orcs than I ever imagined existed in all of Arda." The Prince gave an involuntary shudder. The images still fresh in his mind, popping up at unexpected moments, like when he closed his eyes or when he succumbed to deep sleep. "I have killed Orcs and giant evil spiders for hundreds of years in the Woodland Realm, but this was my first pitched battle."

"You must give yourself time," Lord Elrond told Legolas. "The first taste of battle is often the most traumatic, and being an Elda does not mean you are immune to night terrors and moments when your mind relieves what you have seen in too vivid, painful detail."

Legolas nodded, grateful beyond words for the much older, wiser Elf's compassion. "What of my regrets?"

The Elf-lord frowned, brow furrowing. "Those rarely fade, though I wish I had something more positive to offer you as answer."

"I find the honesty of your council more valuable than I can say, my Lord. I do not regret coming to Rivendell for even one moment."

Elrond's lips quirked, "I am pleased you took Mithrandir and the King's advice and came to us. Many here have been where you are, Legolas, and needed a place to reflect on difficult times. It is a part of why I founded Rivendell. The other part being as a repository for knowledge which might have been lost to time and the darkness."

"I am sure the King will appreciate any wisdom you can pound into my hard head while I am a guest here."

The young Dúnedain coughed to cover a laugh, and Elrond smiled at him while including Legolas in his mirth, "One can hope the wisdom we have on offer will be delivered without any damage to your head, hard or soft, but as Aragorn can tell you, I make no guarantees for my sons."

Legolas looked at Aragorn, "Can you tell me more about the Dúnedain? Is there a reason my father wanted me to meet young Aragorn specifically? Does it have to do with why most of the people here in Rivendell know Aragorn, son of Arathorn, by the name of Estel?"

The Lord of Imladris nodded. "You and Aragorn have something in common, as you are both Princes who do not wish it to be known. This young Man," he nodded at Aragorn, "is the last known descendant of Isildur, and his rightful heir. It is dangerous for him to be called such, for there are people who would not be pleased to have a King ascend the throne in Gondor once more."

Legolas made the connection and inhaled sharply, "So that is what my father meant." He grinned at Aragorn.

"What did the King of the Woodland Realm have to say about me? What could he possibly know?" the Man demanded, to which Legolas merely smirked and gave an elegant shrug. "Perhaps, someday, at a time when you are older, I will tell you."

The teasing had the desired effect for making the Dúnedain wrinkle his nose and stiffen his shoulders.

"I have high hopes that the two of you will become fast friends," Lord Elrond told them. "The future grows darker with each passing decade. Men and Elves will need to stand shoulder to shoulder, as in Ages past, if we are to defeat the evil and save our world."