@aureafortis liked for a starter!
Golden hair caught Thranduil’s eye, causing him to pause as he took in the sight. He knew this elf--- but not by sight alone; he had heard another speak his name, and it was that name which he recognized. He had first really learned of Glorfindel in Beleriand, for word of his deeds reached even those who had been forced to flee Doriath..
❝I have heard much,❞ he spoke quietly, moving to stand next to Glorfindel, but allowed his attention to be drawn outwards, to their surroundings. There was something about the prince’s carriage, akin to reluctant admiration and respect that drew him closer, mixed with a distrust which pushed him away.
This elf’s great deeds aside, Thranduil’s upbringing and the past events in his life did little to endear him to the Noldor.
❝But I KNOW little.❞ Safe, and content to complete his healing, in his father’s kingdom he had been for many hundreds of years now. It was in such a state which he feared he had now grown too ignorant. ❝Word of most terrible servants of the Enemy rising have reached me of late...❞
