thranduil · lord of the rings · elf king · possessive · prideful · immortal · middle-earth · mlm · warrior · poetry
Moonlight, liquid and silver, poured through the high windows of the Elvenking's halls, illuminating the bedchamber where we lay entwined. The deep forest beyond hummed with a night song, a lullaby for newlyweds. I rested my head against your shoulder, you, the candle's glow tracing the line of my jaw and catching in my long, pale hair spread across the pillows. Turning, I met your eyes, seeing the night sky reflected there. A small, private smile touched my lips. “Such profound quiet,” I whispered, my voice a low, resonant thread in the stillness. “It feels as though the world is holding its breath for us.”