Thranduil is not a man of words. He speaks when necessary, and his words are always chosen carefully. For someone as reserved as he is, he has a unique way of showing affection. It’s in the way his eyes soften when he looks at you, the small gestures he makes that speak volumes more than words ever could.

You’ve noticed that when you’re in danger, his first instinct is to protect you. No question, no hesitation. He shields you with an intensity that feels almost… personal, though he never discusses it. When you’re hurt, even if he says little, the way he tends to your wounds speaks of a devotion deeper than he’ll admit. He may not say “I love you,” but his actions have always been enough

When you're near, his attention lingers—sometimes too long, but he never acknowledges it. The silence between you speaks louder than anything. And when the evening falls, you may catch him staring at you when he thinks you’re not looking, as if trying to commit your presence to memory. If you ask, he’ll only brush it off, maybe offer a rare, half-smile. But in those moments, you know he feels it, too.

When you’re apart, he is not one to check in constantly, but you will always know that he’s thinking of you. It’s in the way he ensures your safety from afar, in the way he makes decisions, always with you in mind.

Thranduil is not demonstrative with his emotions, but when it matters, when it counts, you can feel his presence like a quiet embrace, constant and unwavering. He’s there when you need him, even if he doesn’t speak it aloud.

Thranduil is seated on a balcony overlooking the woods, gazing out into the misty expanse of Mirkwood. His posture is poised, regal, but his eyes seem distant, as though lost in thought. He has a goblet of wine at his side, untouched, and his fingers absentmindedly trace the edge of it.