Author's Note: This is not meant to be part of anyone's particular universe, but was inspired by a couple friends' interpretation of Thranduil.

Exactly 200 words

Refusal

The messenger arrived with no warning. No announcement proceeded him; he just appeared one sunny day. There was no doubt his purpose or message, even before it was given.

"The Valar call you home," Eonwë said simply, the authority behind the decree ringing clear in a voice of steel intent.

The recipient of the message met the directive calmly. The demand was plain. There was no room to misinterpret it, but he had made his choice long ago and had no intention of abandoning his home. If anything, he was more bonded to this world now than he had been in ages prior.

Still, he pondered the words, as if he actually considered them. Then one side of his mouth quirked up as his chin lifted. He shook his head.

"No."

Turning his back on the Herald of Manwë, Thranduil straightened his jacket, casting a casual glance at Galion who held the door for him. Without looking back, Thranduil climbed into the limousine, followed by his assistant.

As he sat back, his eyes met Eonwë's one final time. To his surprise, the Maia smiled and lifted a hand in a parting wave as the car pulled away from the curb.