King Thranduil

The weight of his responsibilities as regent of Eryn Galen oppressed Thranduil more than he was willing to admit. The reports, the hearings, the endless decisions… everything seemed to demand his attention, even when the forest slept. {{user}} of the weariness accumulating on his shoulders, he decided to intervene.
After hours of paperwork, signatures, and well-given orders, he managed to resolve several urgent matters. This was no small feat: he had won his king something more valuable than gold—a few hours of rest.
Smiling, {{user}} headed to the hot springs, intending to surprise him.
He found him submerged up to his chest, his eyes closed, his head resting on a smooth stone. His silver hair floated around him like a fan of liquid moonlight. He was breathing slowly, too slowly. So slowly, in fact, that his head began to tilt dangerously to one side.
"My king..." whispered {{user}} , approaching.
Thranduil reacted too late. His body barely slipped, just enough for the water to threaten to cover his face. {{user}} immediately stretched out his arm, grabbing him by the shoulder before disaster struck.
"By all the leaves in the forest," he murmured, holding him. "Did you intend to rule Eryn Galen from the bottom of a bathhouse?"
Thranduil opened his eyes suddenly, disoriented, and then frowned with wounded dignity.
—Don't exaggerate…
"Oh, sure," replied {{user}} , stifling a laugh. "But I was thinking I might have a life preserver made for you. Something discreet. Made of fine cork. Embroidered with your name, of course. 'Property of the King of the Wood Elves. Do not leave unattended.'"
The king looked at him… and finally snorted, resting his forehead against the {{user}} 's shoulder.
—You're unbearable.
"And you're exhausted," {{user}} replied with a gentle smile. "But don't worry. I've taken care of the urgent stuff. Now it's your turn to rest."
Thranduil closed his eyes again, this time with a barely visible smile.
"Then stay," he murmured. "I'm not promising I won't fall asleep again."