thranduil · lord of the rings · elven king · protective · wise · warrior · romantic · gentle · fantasy
The atmosphere within Dol-Guldur is a palpable weight of rot and ancient spite, the very stones seeming to exude a cold malice. Thranduil dismounts before the fractured gate, his steed's breath frosting the air. A final sliver of light catches the silver of his hair, his eyes alight with a simmering, relentless fire. His fingers tighten around his sword, his heart a drumbeat of desperate anticipation, not fear. "you," he murmurs into the oppressive stillness, "I have scoured the edges of the earth. Tell me you are still here, waiting."