This is my first shot at LOTR and will probably be my last considering my
usual mailing list didn't even respond to it. (Is it really that bad you
guys?)
Anyway, flash idea I'll probably never continue but I needed to write it down nonetheless.
Not within the timeline of the books/movies obviously and if someone has a problem with anything written down, it is your problem and I don't care.
- - -
Forbidden Home
- - -
"So what be thy name elf-slave?" The decrepit old woman asked as one of her long wrinkly skeletal like fingers let a lock of his long golden hair slip over it.
"Legolas." He replied softly, understanding the position he was now in.
"Gots a last name?" One of the other slaves in the dank room almost snarled.
Not being one ashamed of whom he was, the elf simply replied, "Greenleaf."
This was followed by a heavy silence, almost to the point of suffocation. Apparently, they'd heard of him. It wasn't surprising though, seeing as who their master was. And just when the silence was beginning to unnerve him, it was shattered by loud horse like laughter.
"Legolas Greenleaf?" The old woman laughed, her rotten teeth in perfect view. "As in the prince of Mirkwood?" As though she had just told the funniest joke in all Middle-Earth the rest of the nine or so slaves' laughter grew louder.
"The one and the same." He replied, his voice emotionless and cold. He had never been one to push his status on any other; he simply saw no point. But to be laughed at in such a way over his name.
Another slave, greasy from a hard day's work in the field their master owned, snickered as he bowed contemptuously before the prince, "Why your royal elf-ship, I apologize greatly for our disrespect. We 'adn't a bloody clue we was among royalty." With that said the crowd laughed harder.
The elf was not amused. "You mock me." He stated.
The same greasy man only waved his hands in self defense, "Oh no your elf- ship, we believes you! Really we does." He grinned, showing his crooked teeth, "Now would 'is royal prince like the royal treatment? Galia! Bring in the wine an' bread!" He clapped his hands, as if summoning someone, which sent the rest of the slaves in hysterics.
Annoyed, insulted, angry and helpless, the blonde male moved away from the other beings within the small dwelling. The dwelling, little more than a small hut, was separated in to two rooms by a simple thin wall. Whether or not the two rooms were supposed to be for men and one for the women was unknown to the elf, but to be quite honest, he didn't care. The only thing he cared about was getting away.
This room was dark, whereas a fire had been built in the center of the room next to it. And though he could still hear the laughter, the thin wall seemed to block some of it out. He sat down in a corner of the darkened room - not to sulk or pout, but to think alone. He would have liked to stop thinking, but his mind didn't work that way. It was like it wanted to torment him with the truth of how he'd gotten in his position.
It hurt thinking about home. . .
A creek to his left drew the elf away from his inner turmoil and his eyes scanned the room. Now that they'd had a chance to grow used to the little light there, he realized he hadn't been alone. One of the beds was occupied and a small, thin body was sitting up. And he didn't even need to see to tell that eyes were on him.
"I believe you." A soft voice whispered and it was almost so quiet that he had to strain to hear it. The firelight glinted off of white hair as the child continued; "My mama and me saw you when you passed through our village once." The boy explained.
Legolas was silent. He drew comfort from that silence, but he also didn't know what to say.
"Don't be sad." The child took his silence as grief, and he supposed apart of it was from sorrow. "You'll get out of here and get to go home again."
Home. . .
A place he'd never see again.
- - -
Sorry if anything was hard to understand.
Anyway, flash idea I'll probably never continue but I needed to write it down nonetheless.
Not within the timeline of the books/movies obviously and if someone has a problem with anything written down, it is your problem and I don't care.
- - -
Forbidden Home
- - -
"So what be thy name elf-slave?" The decrepit old woman asked as one of her long wrinkly skeletal like fingers let a lock of his long golden hair slip over it.
"Legolas." He replied softly, understanding the position he was now in.
"Gots a last name?" One of the other slaves in the dank room almost snarled.
Not being one ashamed of whom he was, the elf simply replied, "Greenleaf."
This was followed by a heavy silence, almost to the point of suffocation. Apparently, they'd heard of him. It wasn't surprising though, seeing as who their master was. And just when the silence was beginning to unnerve him, it was shattered by loud horse like laughter.
"Legolas Greenleaf?" The old woman laughed, her rotten teeth in perfect view. "As in the prince of Mirkwood?" As though she had just told the funniest joke in all Middle-Earth the rest of the nine or so slaves' laughter grew louder.
"The one and the same." He replied, his voice emotionless and cold. He had never been one to push his status on any other; he simply saw no point. But to be laughed at in such a way over his name.
Another slave, greasy from a hard day's work in the field their master owned, snickered as he bowed contemptuously before the prince, "Why your royal elf-ship, I apologize greatly for our disrespect. We 'adn't a bloody clue we was among royalty." With that said the crowd laughed harder.
The elf was not amused. "You mock me." He stated.
The same greasy man only waved his hands in self defense, "Oh no your elf- ship, we believes you! Really we does." He grinned, showing his crooked teeth, "Now would 'is royal prince like the royal treatment? Galia! Bring in the wine an' bread!" He clapped his hands, as if summoning someone, which sent the rest of the slaves in hysterics.
Annoyed, insulted, angry and helpless, the blonde male moved away from the other beings within the small dwelling. The dwelling, little more than a small hut, was separated in to two rooms by a simple thin wall. Whether or not the two rooms were supposed to be for men and one for the women was unknown to the elf, but to be quite honest, he didn't care. The only thing he cared about was getting away.
This room was dark, whereas a fire had been built in the center of the room next to it. And though he could still hear the laughter, the thin wall seemed to block some of it out. He sat down in a corner of the darkened room - not to sulk or pout, but to think alone. He would have liked to stop thinking, but his mind didn't work that way. It was like it wanted to torment him with the truth of how he'd gotten in his position.
It hurt thinking about home. . .
A creek to his left drew the elf away from his inner turmoil and his eyes scanned the room. Now that they'd had a chance to grow used to the little light there, he realized he hadn't been alone. One of the beds was occupied and a small, thin body was sitting up. And he didn't even need to see to tell that eyes were on him.
"I believe you." A soft voice whispered and it was almost so quiet that he had to strain to hear it. The firelight glinted off of white hair as the child continued; "My mama and me saw you when you passed through our village once." The boy explained.
Legolas was silent. He drew comfort from that silence, but he also didn't know what to say.
"Don't be sad." The child took his silence as grief, and he supposed apart of it was from sorrow. "You'll get out of here and get to go home again."
Home. . .
A place he'd never see again.
- - -
Sorry if anything was hard to understand.