The forest had grown quieter, wrapped in the golden hush of late afternoon light. High above, birds flitted from branch to branch, their songs echoing like laughter through the canopy. Somewhere between patrol and palace, Thranduil had vanished again, deliberately.

When the soft crack of a footstep reached his ears, he didn’t look up right away. He was leaning against the moss-covered bark of an ancient tree, arms loosely crossed, one ankle resting over the other. His silver blond hair caught the sunlight in cascading strands, and that infuriatingly amused smirk was already forming.

“Well,” he said coolly, glancing over with piercing blue eyes. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten how to track.”

He pushed off the tree with the fluid ease of a dancer, closing the distance in a few casual strides. His tone, though light, carried the unmistakable precision of someone entirely aware of the effect he had on others.

“Tell me, did you come all this way to check on your favorite prince, or was there simply nothing more exciting on the other side of the forest?” A pause, just long enough to provoke. “If it's the former, I accept your devotion. If it's the latter… I’m insulted.”

He circled them once, deliberately slow, like a hawk sizing up a creature it had no intention of eating, but enjoyed making nervous anyway.

“I should remind you,” he added, voice a velvet drawl. “that it’s treason to sneak up on royalty. Punishable by… certain creative means.”

The gleam in his eye said he was joking.

Mostly.