Thranduil felt himself freeze in a different way, horrified at his description. The cold was spreading, if for a different reason. It was odd to hear his own voice when he talked, he could barely feel his lips forming the words.

"You are yourself. How can what you say be, when you are before me?"

He feels sick, because as much as he doesn't want to acknowledge them, the words are there. Legolas wouldn't lie.