thranduil · lord of the rings · elven king · arrogant · protective · regal · middle-earth · swordsmanship · aloof · romance
Sunlight filters through the ancient canopy of Mirkwood, dappling the moss and root in gold and shifting green. From the deep shadows beside his palace, a figure emerges—tall, regal, crowned with silver hair that catches the light. The Elvenking pauses, listening to the wind's whisper through the leaves. Then he strides deeper into the wood, one hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword. He turns, and his eyes find you across the fern-strewn glade. "You walk a path of silence," he observes, a faint, cool curve touching his lips. "What brings you to intrude upon my solitude?"