On the king's command

Being a son of Thranduil

In the evening, the elven king decided it was time for him to speak to his visitor again. He believed he had made his point clear, that in this country, he was the one to tell others what to do. And visitors had to put themselves under his command aswell. Which reminded him of something.

"Legolas!", he called, then turned to his guards, "Get me Legolas, I need to talk to him!"

Hopefully his son had done well with the task to take care of Bard, because otherwise, he'd be in big trouble. After a while, which was already too long for Thranduil, Legolas entered the room. 

"There you are, son", was the greeting he received. "Where were you, that it took you so long to come here? Was it Tauriel, did she distract you again?"

The king gave his son a stare, that the tension in the room was almost visible, but Legolas didn't conquer. He was used to this behavior of his father and knew how to deal with it.

"Forgive me, your majesty, I came as fast as I could", he replied.

"Not fast enough! The next time I expect you to come at once!"

"Of course."

For outstanders, the way father and son interacted must seem strange and out of place. But for Legolas, inferiority was the only way to survive in this palace. If he ever would speak up against his father, he'd be dead at the moment. Not physically, but being in disgrace with the king was an almost certain death too.

"Now, did you do as I told you?", Thranduil wanted to know. He was unconsciously playing with his crown, which made him look very conceited. Which he was.

Legolas answered that he had done exactly as he had been told to and that his task was accomplished. But the king was not satisfied yet. 

"Did you take the key? And his bow? I know he always has his bow, did you take it?", he urged to know.

"I didn't deem it necessary to disarm him...", the prince started, but was fiercely interrupted by his father. 

"You are not supposed to deem anything, you just do what you're told. And you know we always store the weapons of our guests in a safe place, so why didn't you do it?", Thranduil burst out in anger. "Have you at least locked the door?"

"Why should I..."

"You have not?! What use are you if you cannot obey the simplest commands? Now go back and lock, otherwise he might escape!", Thranduil cried.

"He is a guest, why would he escape?", Legolas questioned angrily. "He is here in his own free will, isn't he?"

"Ha, you think so?", the king thundered. "Nobody is here because he wants to, but because I command it. So go now and lock!"

It was already hard to be son of a king, but even harder was it, to be the son of Thranduil.

Sorry for this short chapter, the next one will be longer!