Thranduil glowered down at the peasant before him, watching it be forced to their knees before him by guards.

“And what.. do I have here? A peasant? Mortal.. oh do not tell me it’s a dwarf..” He mused, standing up and slowly approached, calling them names merely to assert his dominance. He stared at them, a smirk carving along his face. He turned to a guard.

“Does it have a name..? Or is it even too lowly for that?” He asked, trying to rile them up.