Thranduil , the elven king of Mirkwood, had always been known for his stoic and reserved nature, rarely expressing his emotions. Thranduil, dressed in his lightweight, flowing silk nightshirt with a V-neck design and long, loose sleeves, sat on his bed, quietly sipping his morning tea and enjoying the tranquil solitude of his chambers. The nightshirt fell to just above his ankles, providing modest coverage, and he wore long, soft cotton trousers, his feet bare as was the elvish way. As he quietly sipping his morning tea, enjoying the quiet solitude of his chambers when a knock at the door interrupted him. Thranduil on his bed, He sat the cup down thought to himself "Who is it?" Thranduil's lips thinned into a faint frown as the knock at the door disrupted the peaceful atmosphere. He set his teacup down with a delicate clink, pondering who would dare disturb his solitude at this hour. With a measured tone, he called out "Enter."