On the king's command

An invitation

"I should go", Bard said, pulling the blanket over himself. "I will leave tomorrow with my fellows, and you do not have to be bothered with me again."

The king of Dale felt worse now than before. Why had he done that? But it had been so hard to resist. He didn't have another choice. 

"I don't think so", the elven king replied, now really smiling. "I don't think so."

"What do you mean?", Bard questioned suspiciously. 

"You will not leave." The king adjusted his tiara, which had slipped out of its position during the kiss just a minute ago. "We are not done yet with our trading contracts, and I need a little company around here. A king is often lonely, as you must surely know."

Bard did not, as he had both family and friends back home, but in the depths of his mind he could understand Thranduil. Being such a harsh and strict ruler must make him very lonely.

"I doubt I am very good company", Bard muttered under his breath, but unluckily, Thranduil had very good ears, and he of course heard him.

"Oh, you have proved very good company, I can assure you of that", he told the man and gave him a knowing smile, which made Bard shrink even more under the blanket. "In fact, as you are so good in keeping me company, why don't you come and have dinner with me later? I will send you a guard to show you to my rooms."

"F...fine", Bard got out and tried to steady his breathing. The king stared at him for another second, this time with a smile on his lips, then swiftly stood up and left the room in his elven-like manner. 

---

Bard was left alone with his thoughts, and of them he had many. He didn't know, what Thranduil planned to do, but he knew it couldn't be benefitting for him. For all he knew, the king had invited him to a private dinner. In his private chambers. All alone. This was enough for Bard to make his head spin. 

One did not invite someone to a private meal if you wanted to discuss trading rights. Back home, he would never invite someone for a private meeting if he didn't know them really well, and he'd always have his counsellor Elain with him. So, Bard thought, they would certainly not discuss anything to do with trading connections. Which, again, left his head spinning quickly, and his thoughts turned into a strange floating condition. 

The most burning question for Bard was, however, why the elven king had suddenly changed his mind about both himself and his companions. When he had arrived, the king wasn't welcoming at all and the act of imprisoning his fellowship told him the rest. But suddenly, seemingly just because he had ran off to the woods and Thranduil had come to rescue him from these horrible spiders in his forest, the king turned out to actually respect his guests. Or it was because of the kiss...

The king of Dale let his head fall down into his hands. Why had he done it? Why hadn't he just pushed away the feelings he felt for the elven king? It would have been best, because now he got the mess. But deep in his heart he knew that he wouldn't have been able to resist Thranduil. The elf was simply so captivating, that once you lost yourself in his gaze, you couldn't escape from it. Bard sighed.

What should he do now? If the king wanted him to stay longer than expected, who would rule his kingdom while he was away? Who would care for his daughter? And what would he himself be doing? What would the elven king want him to do? If it was more than simple company, more than a game of chess near the fireplace, should he oblige? Because in the end, he would have to return home, and then it would hurt even more.

 Lost deep in considerations, Bard stayed in his room for the rest of the afternoon and pondered upon all the questions that swirled around in his head. The sun stretched her fingers into the window and warmed his back, and the hundreds of birds from the forest sang their chirping melodies. But as it grew darker and darker, and Bards toes started to get cold, a knock was on the door, and a guard entered to fetch him and bring him to Thranduil.