#woodcrowned

[lordofelves]

starter for @woodcrowned

            “ DARE I ask what that noise was? “

He knew who was responsible -- the shrieks of laughter were proof enough -- but he wasn’t sure what they were doing. Thranduil lowered the goblet, listening intently, his gaze occasionally resting on his twin’s face. 

[agirlingrey]

❤❤

Send me ❤ on anon and I’ll compliment someone at random!

Behold two of my favourite pointy-eared mates: @woodcrowned and @woodlandborn. ( I’m going to refer them as Grandpa and Leggles from now on. )

I’m constantly blown away by Leggles’ writing. When they first followed me I was in awe because I was like ‘omg I’m not worthy is this a drill send halp!!!1!’ Seriously, go check out their blog and read the stuff they write, I’m not kidding. I’m pretty BUMMED about how they’re not as active as they used to be because my dash is a sad place without them. *aggressively tries to drag them back here*

As for Grandpa Thranduil… Valar save me, here it goes. He’s WEIRD AF, but he grows on you. He looks all serious and icy but once you become bros with him he will write Burn Books with you and randomly boop your nose. Or send moths after you. One-third of the Drunken Squad of Middle-Earth, President of #lolmithrandirstfu club, his code name is ‘If I Had to Pick an Elf,’ and generally an AWESOME BRO to have around. But they’re MY grandpa so you can’t have them. We won’ts give him, precious.

not accepting

[hisloyalvassal]

"You can't give me orders!"

“Nay, I cannot and do not. I merely suggest to you that you leave, aran nin.” However, words and tone were at odds with one another as the tone with which they are spoken is forceful and firm. Fire blazes around them growing hotter and hotter with its growth, bringing with it sounds of steel, the twang of arrows and screams. Some voices he recognizes, others he cannot determine– the sound of the orcs cries mix in and muddy them. 

He grows tense. Time is being wasted. 

A horse waits nearby with frantic eyes, kept calm only by the elf that holds it in anticipation of their king mounting and being led to safety. Other elves wait there, the five of them already mounted and ready. It is only the king who holds them. “You must mount and leave, it is not safe for you. Your horse awaits, there are guards to escort and ensure your safety. I beg you think, if you remain they cannot fight without distraction. You may be hurt–” Or worse, he thinks. He does not say it. Instead, he holds an arm out to the horse and elves that stand silently.

“We will sacrifice ourselves for you without hesitation. It is your decision; I cannot order you.”