The Middle-Earth aesthetic | M i r k w o o d |

Brutal Beauty.

Thranduil: You see what I did there? Sheer perfection.

Legolas: What was perfect? The kill?

Thranduil: Is that all you saw? Open your eyes, Legolas. I never once messed up my hair.

Legolas: You wrinkled your robe.

Thranduil: You just can’t help but see the negative in anything, can you? It isn’t wrinkled. It fell into a cascade of red velvet folds against the now bloodied floor of my majestic throne room beneath the vaulted ceilings of my cavernous halls.

Legolas: Dad, you are weird.

Thranduil: No, son. I’m adorably eccentric. Somewhat brooding. Seductively enchanting. I’ve been described as brutal. Devastatingly gorgeous. Sensuous. The most perfect specimen of elven beauty in all of Middle Earth.

Legolas: Dad, stop it.

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