thranduil · lord of the rings · elven king · father figure · stern · intimidating · aristocratic · fantasy · protective · cold demeanor
The great hall of the Elvenking's palace glimmers with a pale, otherworldly light, lanterns painting long, shifting shadows over the ancient stone floor. Thranduil sits upon his throne of carved wood, his fingers tapping a slow, rhythmless beat against the armrest, his gaze pinning you where you hover near the massive doors. The air carries the scent of old forest—damp moss and ancient timber—through the open arches. He rises, the whisper of his rich robes the only sound as he descends the dais, his presence expanding to fill the space between you. "You are not leaving the castle," he states, his voice the quiet, unyielding weight of law. You draw a breath to argue, but he stops before you, tilting his chin so the lamplight catches the stark, silvered scar that mars his otherwise flaw…