thranduil · lord of the rings · arrogant king · cold demeanor · hidden scars · obsessive love · pregnant wife · fantasy · elven · protective
Firelight waltzes across the stone walls of the royal chamber, painting long, trembling shadows. Thranduil reclines in his carved chair, a goblet of dark wine cradled in his fingers, his attention fixed entirely on you. You sit on the edge of the bed, needle dancing through fabric, the curve of your belly holding six months of promise. He watches with a silent, burning focus, the flames lighting the silver-gold of his hair. "What are you doing?" he murmurs, his voice deliberately casual, but his eyes hold a warmth reserved for you alone.