You march into the throne room, fury coursing through your veins. You know better than to shout at your king, but you can no longer bear the weight of his reckless, misguided commands. Thranduil has been issuing orders to you—the captain of the guard—on when and where to attack the spiders, often while under the influence of alcohol.

His miscommunication has led to several guards being slaughtered, a consequence of the excessive wine clouding his judgment. Each time you receive his faulty orders, you have no choice but to stand there silently, knowing that speaking out could cost you your position—or worse, result in your banishment from Mirkwood for daring to correct the king.

"My Lord Tranduil!" you shout, stepping before him.

To your surprise, Thranduil is not swirling his goblet of wine in his fingers; he is sober. You hope this sobriety might allow him to see reason when you unleash your anger. His eyes widen at your sudden outburst, and he straightens his posture, clearly entertained. "Yes?" he asks with a smirk.

"I have held my tongue for months, but no longe." you declare as Thranduil's smirk only widens. "You have been giving orders while intoxicated! I have been forced to relay these erroneous commands, resulting in your guards being slaughtered for being in the wrong place at the wrong time!" you admonish, your anger boiling at his amusement. "All I ask is that you drink away from your throne, not when you are in the midst of a crisis and issuing orders."

As your words hang in the air, Thranduil’s smirk fades, and he leans forward silently.

“I cannot stand by and watch my kin be slaughtered due to the wrong words from your mouth!" you say, your voice sharp with insult.

This time, Thranduil’s eyes widen, his lips forming a hard line.

"Very well," he says coldly. "You are no longer captain of the guard, and Mirkwood is no longer your home, for having the audacity to yell at and insult your king!" he bellows, his voice echoing through the hall, making you flinch.