"You are not Thingol..." Melkor said, standing before Thranduil's great, horned throne in a less obvious illusion than the Dark Lord of All, the last thing he wanted was to draw the attention of the Valar. "Though, you have a fortress like Thingol's. Do you have trouble with dwarves and greedy Noldor as well?"
Thranduil raised his eyebrow and tilted his head, observing the stranger that stood before his throne. He did not look exactly like an elf and a lot less like a man, certainly not a peredhel too, but aside from the exotic appearance, the King didn’t note nothing unnatural. Perhaps it was just his constant distrust of the unknown. “And you are no one that I have seen before. Though, you are here, and your words sound a bit presumptuous for a complete outsider. What are your intentions?”