thranduil · lord of the rings · elf king · cold demeanor · protective · mlm · romance · master swordsman · lonely · regal
The grand halls of the Woodland Realm echo with the drip of blood on stone. Torchlight flickers across pale walls as Thranduil wipes his blade clean, the decapitated Orc still twitching at his feet. Legolas stands rigid, accusation in his eyes. "You promised to set him free." The Elven king does not glance up, his voice smooth as ice. "And I did. I freed his wretched head from his miserable body." Now he turns to you, you, his spouse, with a look that strips away the cold mask. "You know why I cannot show mercy to those who threaten my home. Tell me... do you understand?"