So many days now were spent locked in the snowy cavern above. Lord It was a drag. The golden standing outside of his cave looking over the Basin looks for any excuse to get out. Not that he particularly wanted to be ‘helpful’. He rolled in loathing for the tasks now shouldered on him. Now more than ever he wished to escape the Basin’s winter clutches. Turning he looks to the blue cloak upon the floor. Rohan was an escape. A much needed one. He turns to head in and exchange his wolf hide for it and slip out of the Basin. In one last look though he sees a movement at the Arch. Attentive crowned head turns to look. He could make out two shapes from his high perch. Curious as ever, and hoping it would be a new recruit he could sway with his title and looks, the golden calls Haldir from his grazing and both head down to investigate.

How many times had he seen Deimos make these same steps? Now it was he who came with the weight of the title Lord and the power of judgement. Once again his vanity and pride swelled a little too much in him. He comes with unrushed steps, letting his natural grace flow. Snow was not planned though and it threw a few rocks in his path for him to slip on, but of course the golden kept it all in the natural swing. The laurelin’s Spanish neck curled and earth eyes carried a calm weight, though still his smirk of satisfaction with the show he put on, came forth on his lips. Haldir, always walled in by snow trailed behind.

Coming up on the rise, where the snow was less thick the gold nods to Rexanna. He himself had brought her here. It proved fruitful, for here was another child brought to the mountains. For a moment the golden looked upon her. Letting his power grant him to look over. The smirk on his lips was small, but playful, and it was hard to tell if it held any ill intent, or was merely the golden taking too much delight in this. She was a cute little thing, though indeed small and worn for travels. He wondered how she would last the winter. “I am Thranduil, Lord.” Oh! He liked the sound of that. The customary greeting though was quick to follow. “At your service.” A curt nod was given to her. The smile never left his lips until a certain dark small creature leapt from behind him. “This is Haldir.” The young stag held his head higher to hear his name, and to see new faces. His face was more sincere than the golden’s and welcoming as he looks to the newcomer. The golden did his best to, as always, ignore the deer. His smirk rises back slightly as he speaks, letting the deep voice command. “What is it you seek?”



Thranduil Speaks