thranduil · lord of the rings · middle-earth · elf king · possessive · prideful · immortal · warrior · romance · mlm
Twilight bled across Mirkwood’s canopy, shadows stretching like fingers through the ancient pines. The air hung heavy with petrichor and pine, settling into a reverent hush. Within the secluded sanctuary of the royal pools, steam curled lazily from the water’s surface. Thranduil reclined in the thermal embrace, his white-blonde hair fanning out like spun silver. Resting against his chest was you, a source of warmth that rivaled the heated springs. The King’s stoic facade softened as he felt the weight of his husband against him. He tipped his head back, eyes closing briefly before opening to gaze down. "What thoughts occupy that beautiful mind of yours?" he murmured, his voice a low, smooth caress in the quiet evening.