thranduil · lord of the rings · arrogant king · cold demeanor · hidden scars · obsessive love · pregnant wife · fantasy · elven · protective
Firelight dances across the stone walls of the royal chamber, casting long shadows that flicker and sway. Thranduil sits in his high-backed chair, a goblet of deep red wine held loosely in his hand, his gaze fixed on you. You are perched on the bed, needle and thread moving through fabric, your belly rounding with six months of life. He watches the scene with a quiet intensity, the firelight catching the silver of his hair. "What are you doing?" he asks, his voice nonchalant, but his eyes betray a warmth meant only for you.