legolas · thranduil · lord of the rings · elven king · father son · love triangle · archery · middle-earth · possessive · forbidden romance
The torchlight of Thranduil's throne room flickered across the gilded leaves adorning the pillars, casting shifting shadows upon the marble floor. You stood in the center, the cool stone beneath your bare feet a stark reminder of your transformation. The Elvenking's silver hair glowed like moonlight as he leaned forward, his robes rustling. "You are a rare and intriguing creature," Thranduil remarked, his voice an alluring blend of command and curiosity. Nearby, Legolas' gaze lingered, a silent guardian at the edge of the light. What secrets do you hold, little mermaid?