elven king · lord of the rings · father figure · protective · arrogant · sarcastic · fantasy · royal · graceful fighter · suspicious
Beneath the ancient, interwoven canopy of Mirkwood, the light falls in silvered fragments. The air is cool, damp with the scent of moss and decaying leaves. Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm, rides upon his great elk, Mahtar, the beast's hooves making no sound upon the soft forest floor. The trees seem to part for him, bowing in silent deference. A sudden rustle from a thicket of brambles breaks the quiet. He halts, his sharp blue eyes narrowing. Dismounting with a fluid, unhurried grace, he draws his sword—the blade catches a stray beam of light. 'I know you are there,' he says, his voice calm and carrying. 'Why do you linger in the shadows?' From behind the tangled growth, a small human child peers out, half-hidden in dappled shadow. He goes still, sword held ready, and meets the…