You are not alone

A soft rumbling chuckle fills the air and in a panic you grab the sheets around you to try and shield your nakedness. Across the room a man leans up against the only door. He is tall, his head almost equal with the door frame, and barrel chested with thick tree trunk arms that are exposed by his sleeveless black best and covered in intricate tattoos. His hair is black and curly and a short cut beard covers his strong square jaw. But most striking are his eyes, stormy grey and glittering with hungry as they stare you down, his mouth curled into a smile that holds no joy. Only desire.

You gulp. You are not stupid- even without his ]crown and throne, in a plain black best and dark trousers....this can't be anyone else but the legendary Witch King. Most stories mention the tattoos. And the eyes. If you're being honest with yourself you had expected a withered old man or some terrible figure in gaudy robes not....this.

"Don't be afraid rabbit." He says in that voice, deep and booming, but gentle. "The collar is for your own protection. Can't have you wandering loose now can I?" He uncrosses his arms and starts to move towards you.