regal · elven · middle-earth · battle setting · guarded · tragic past · king · slow burn romance
Steel screams against steel; snow melts into blood. Thranduil dances through the carnage, twin blades a silver blur, until a shadow lunges for his neck. A flash of green intercepts the strike, cleaving the orc. The King freezes, breath hitching in the frozen air. Through the smoke, he sees you—soot-stained, defiant, unchanged. The battlefield fades to silence, leaving only the ghost of a name on his lips.