Heart and Memory, Song of the Chained
A final new one from me for a while. This holds dark terms in it. No slash here either. Everyone belongs to Tolkien; I am only borrowing long term.
Post War of the Ring. Slight AU, as Gimli is not with Legolas, and Frodo hasn't left yet.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Frodo frowned as he made his ways to the bar. He hated the fact that he was here, of all places. But since he was traveling, he needed a place to stay and this was the only place in town. The reason he hated it was not because it was immensely dirty, but because of the slaves.
Hobbits had servants, yes, but slaves? No. The servants chose to work for whoever, were well paid, and the jobs were not much. But the slaves around here were beaten and starved, given horrid jobs, and were generally used for sick things. They were owned and it made Frodo sick.
He entertained the idea of going out and sleeping on the ground, but knew better. It was either here or getting robbed and thrown into slavery himself. He arrived at the bar and the bar tender took notice of him.
"Business or pleasure?" he asked.
"Business, a room please," Frodo said.
"The second floor, little Master, third door down. Let me know if there is anything you need," the bartender said and handed him a key.
Frodo nodded and was about to head up to his room when a lilting music filled the room. He turned to the small stage that was set up in the front of the room. . Standing there was a man holding onto a chain. The chain was connected to the neckband of the slave that stood by him. The slave wore only torn trousers. His chest was bare and marked with many a whiplash and other punishments. His long blonde hair hung limply, nearly covering his face. But Frodo caught a glance at blue eyes and horror filled him more.
"Legolas?" he whispered.
But it couldn't be! Legolas was the Prince of Mirkwood. How could he have become a slave!
Frodo hurried to the front of the room. He did not bother to hear what the man was saying, his mind to preoccupied. He finally got to the stage.
"All right, slave, sing them a little tune," the man snapped, pulling roughly on the chain.
"Wait!" Frodo yelled.
The man looked down at him.
"What do you want, little Master?" he growled.
"How much is this slave?" Frodo asked, all ready hating the word more and more.
"He ain't for sale," the man said gruffly.
"Everything is for sale at one point or other. Now, name your price," Frodo snapped.
"I don't want to sell him. Besides, little Master, he is bad tempered. I doubt you can control him," the man said.
"Not even for more than he is worth? Besides, I can handle him," Frodo asked.
"I am listening," the man said.
"Twenty gold pieces," Frodo said.
He only had thirty with him, but he was willing to pay more to save his friend and if necessary, Sting was hanging on his belt.
"Twenty five," the man said.
"Done," Frodo said.
He handed over the money, much to the protest of the crowd, and the man handed him the elf's chain with the key. Frodo lead him down stage and up into his room. He shut and locked the doors behind him. He then turned to his friend.
"Legolas? What are you doing here? How did you become a slave?" Frodo asked.
He was frightened by the look in his friend's eyes, a look of terror and pain, but what worried him the most was the incomprehension, the non remembrance, in those blue depths.
"Who Legolas? I am Jelar," the elf said.
A final new one from me for a while. This holds dark terms in it. No slash here either. Everyone belongs to Tolkien; I am only borrowing long term.
Post War of the Ring. Slight AU, as Gimli is not with Legolas, and Frodo hasn't left yet.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Frodo frowned as he made his ways to the bar. He hated the fact that he was here, of all places. But since he was traveling, he needed a place to stay and this was the only place in town. The reason he hated it was not because it was immensely dirty, but because of the slaves.
Hobbits had servants, yes, but slaves? No. The servants chose to work for whoever, were well paid, and the jobs were not much. But the slaves around here were beaten and starved, given horrid jobs, and were generally used for sick things. They were owned and it made Frodo sick.
He entertained the idea of going out and sleeping on the ground, but knew better. It was either here or getting robbed and thrown into slavery himself. He arrived at the bar and the bar tender took notice of him.
"Business or pleasure?" he asked.
"Business, a room please," Frodo said.
"The second floor, little Master, third door down. Let me know if there is anything you need," the bartender said and handed him a key.
Frodo nodded and was about to head up to his room when a lilting music filled the room. He turned to the small stage that was set up in the front of the room. . Standing there was a man holding onto a chain. The chain was connected to the neckband of the slave that stood by him. The slave wore only torn trousers. His chest was bare and marked with many a whiplash and other punishments. His long blonde hair hung limply, nearly covering his face. But Frodo caught a glance at blue eyes and horror filled him more.
"Legolas?" he whispered.
But it couldn't be! Legolas was the Prince of Mirkwood. How could he have become a slave!
Frodo hurried to the front of the room. He did not bother to hear what the man was saying, his mind to preoccupied. He finally got to the stage.
"All right, slave, sing them a little tune," the man snapped, pulling roughly on the chain.
"Wait!" Frodo yelled.
The man looked down at him.
"What do you want, little Master?" he growled.
"How much is this slave?" Frodo asked, all ready hating the word more and more.
"He ain't for sale," the man said gruffly.
"Everything is for sale at one point or other. Now, name your price," Frodo snapped.
"I don't want to sell him. Besides, little Master, he is bad tempered. I doubt you can control him," the man said.
"Not even for more than he is worth? Besides, I can handle him," Frodo asked.
"I am listening," the man said.
"Twenty gold pieces," Frodo said.
He only had thirty with him, but he was willing to pay more to save his friend and if necessary, Sting was hanging on his belt.
"Twenty five," the man said.
"Done," Frodo said.
He handed over the money, much to the protest of the crowd, and the man handed him the elf's chain with the key. Frodo lead him down stage and up into his room. He shut and locked the doors behind him. He then turned to his friend.
"Legolas? What are you doing here? How did you become a slave?" Frodo asked.
He was frightened by the look in his friend's eyes, a look of terror and pain, but what worried him the most was the incomprehension, the non remembrance, in those blue depths.
"Who Legolas? I am Jelar," the elf said.