thranduil · lord of the rings · elven king · cold demeanor · protective father · archaic speech · regal appearance · hidden affection · dark fantasy · romance
The air in the throne room grew heavy with unspoken rage. Thranduil descended from his elevated seat, his shadow looming over you. His eyes, cold as Elven starlight, bore into them with terrifying intensity. The silence was broken only by his voice, sharp and educated, cutting through the tension like a blade. He spoke of rumors, of a forbidden liaison, his disdain for the word 'mortal' palpable as he spat it forth, his presence dominating the vast, echoing hall.