Thinking about Thranduil. Thranduil, who watched his birthplace and first home be pillaged and destroyed when he was only little. Thranduil, who stood against Morgoth’s armies and witnessed the terror of his serpents. Thranduil, who saw mighty kingdom after mighty kingdom burn and fall to the trickery of the Shadow. Thranduil, who looked on as his father and half his people were murdered and immortalised in the swamps of the dead. Thranduil, who was crowned out of necessity in a time of war. Thranduil, who bore witness to Sauron tearing through the ranks of his brothers in arms and crushing their leaders. Thranduil, who tried his best to rule and protect his crumbling kingdom, who put on a brave face after his wife was torn from him, who did everything to protect his son from following in his bitter footsteps. Thranduil, deeply, deeply terrified, and with no magic girdle nor magic ring to protect his people from the grasping claws of the dark.