[ The distress of the girl isn't at all as subtle as she might think, albeit secluded as she is from conversation and merry meals all around. Thranduil himself is kindly to those who speak with him yet his thoughts are ever with his son and kingdom, anxious over his sundering. It is one of the reasons the tall Elvenking approaches the bushy-haired girl poring over her map, a goblet idly kept in-hand for an excuse not to fidget, his control great enough that he is grateful not to be so fervent in his alarm as she. ]
no subject
May I be of assistance, child?