Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings or any of the characters/locations associated with it. I only own the original characters.

Author's Note: Just to clear up any confusion, Alerae's name is pronounced 'Al-air-ray.' Thanks for reading!

Alerae had had a particularly grueling night. She despised pleasuring the guests and she hated doing whatever they wished, but she feared the consequences of not doing what was expected of her. That morning, her "client", a dirty, middle-aged man, left early, without even a thank you. She freshened up and went about the many tasks assigned to her that day.

Meanwhile, Legolas Thrandulion was on his way to visit his old friend in Gondor. He normally did not stop at this village, but after a tiring encounter with some less than agreeable rogue orcs, he was more than willing to rest for the evening. He had no intention of renting a room with a "guest pleaser," but the Valar had something else in mind.

He approached the counter and waited to be acknowledged. When the man behind the counter did not look up, Legolas made his presence known, "Excuse me sir, are there any rooms available for this evening?"

The man behind the counter looked at the elf strangely and then addressed him, "We happen to have a very nice room, as long as you are willing to pay the higher price."

"Whatever the price is, I'll take it," he replied, in a harsher voice than he had intended. Something about this man made Legolas ill at ease.

The man shifted in his seat and then fished through his drawer, extracting a single key and clasping it in his hand. He stood up and motioned for the elf to follow him to the room he was assigned. Legolas took note of the dark surroundings in the inn, and began to wonder if his choice of accommodations had been a poor one. The innkeeper stopped in front of a heavy wooden door and handed Legolas the key, turning on his heel.

The room was faintly lit inside, but Elven eyes could make out nearly everything. Once the heavy door closed behind him, he walked straight to the bed. Assuming the room was only his, he had failed to notice the pale maiden sitting next to the door. Throwing his bag and weapons on the bed, he started to examine the room but halted at the soft sound of breathing.

"Identify yourself!" he said, without turning around. He picked up one of his long white knives from the bed and ran a hand down the side of it.

The timid maiden stood up and curtsied, "I am here to serve you this evening, kind sir." She could not see the man standing by the bed very well, but the moonlight reflected off of his blade and her voice trembled.

At hearing the female's voice, Legolas put down his weapon, but not his guard.

The maiden had to catch her breath when he lit a candle. She had never seen an elf before, only heard about them in stories – even so, she knew that the ethereal creature before her was an elf. He was the emblem of perfection. He could only be described as a beautiful, in a masculine type of way.

She stopped herself immediately. What was she thinking? He was still a male; it mattered not if he were an elf or a human, he only desired one thing from her.

An interruption came to her thoughts when the elf asked her a question, "What did you say you were doing here, milady?" She noticed that he had put his blade down on the bed.

"I am here to serve you, kind sir. In any way you desire."

"I see." Legolas looked at the maiden. She was plain but possessed a unique beauty, although it was marred by something.

"You are a bed-warmer?" He, like most elves, was against prostitution and respected females of all races. Although some accused him of sleeping with too many maidens, he never disrespected any of them. He knew he shouldn't judge her by her employment but couldn't help being slightly disappointed that anyone would choose such a path.

"Of sorts. I am stationed in this room." She knew the rules: never speak unless spoken to, never disagree with the customer, always be polite…

"Well your services will not be needed tonight, milady." Legolas crossed his arms and waited for her to take her leave.

"What?" She had never been refused by any man at the Inn. "Are you certain?"

"Yes. You are free to go."

"Well, may I…" It was obvious that she was surprised about this. Legolas noted that her voice was shaking. "Can I see if there is another you would be more satisfied with?"

He looked at her intently, "Of course not. I do not wish for company of that sort this evening."

"Oh." She stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do next.

Legolas stood up and started unpacking his bag. He took out a clean pair of breeches and a comfortable shirt that he could put on after he had bathed.

She watched him as he took his blood-stained tunic off and revealed his chiseled chest. Her eyes wandered from his face down his body. He was well-toned but not overly-muscular.

Aware of her eyes studying him, he turned to address her, "Do you need something?"

"Oh, I am sorry, sir, I just… I…" She trailed off and found that her own feet suddenly became very interesting.

Legolas wondered why she did not leave, as he had given her permission to do so. He shrugged and instead of taking off the rest of his clothing where she was present, he went in to the bathing room.

She heard him sigh as he slid into the lukewarm water. She knew that he did not want her in his room, but, if she left, she would be punished severely. How could she explain that to him without letting him know too much?

When Legolas was finished bathing, he dried off and changed into the clean clothing. He expected her to have left by the time he came out of the bathing chamber but found her still sitting in the room when he walked into it.

"Milady, may I ask why you are still here?"

"I, well, I want to be sure that you definitely do not wish for me to stay."

"What is your name?"

This question caught her off guard. She was rarely asked her name. The men staying at the inn did not usually care about her name, or anything else about her, for that matter.

"My name? Of course, my name is Alerae."

"That is a nice name." He wondered why it was elvish but realized that there were more important things to discuss than the nature of her name.

"Why do you seem so surprised?" He sat down opposite her.

"I am not used to being asked what my name is."

"No? I would have thought that you would have told your name to many a man by now."

"They do not often ask." She said this with a distant, longing look in her eyes. She knew she wanted more in her life; she was not happy, and she was certain he could tell by now, with the way his eyes seemed to penetrate into her soul.

"Well, my name is Legolas, if you wanted to know, and you do not have to refer to me as 'sir'."

She shifted uncomfortably. Where had she heard that name before? It seemed so familiar.

He is just trying to break the ice, she thought, "So you have changed your mind then?"

"No, I have not. I would like to know why you haven't left."

"I… I am not permitted to leave unless the guest's needs have been fulfilled."

"You have fulfilled mine. You may go."

She stood up and then looked nervously from the door back to him.

"Is something wrong?" He asked with concern evident in his eyes. She obviously did not want to leave the room and he was now both curious and determined to find out why.

"It's just that, well sir; if I leave, it will be assumed that I refused you."

"Well if you would like, I can let your employer know in the morning why you weren't needed last night. I'll make sure he knows that it had nothing to do with you."

She sighed. She had never had to deal with being refused before. She had been told though that if she ever came out of a room without bedding its occupant she would be severely punished.

"I suppose, but…" She trailed off. She was torn between telling this handsome stranger everything and being punished for leaving.

"If I leave, I am going to be punished." There, she said it.

"Punished? But you are employed here. You could simply threaten to leave. I should think that the innkeeper would be very unhappy if you left."

She cleared her throat. How was she going to get out of this mess? She shouldn't have opened her mouth at all.

"I'm sorry, sir, I am not really permitted to speak of these things. I will be on my way if you wish."

Legolas was intrigued. This girl's mysterious green eyes captivated him.

"Wait, I'm sorry for asking you to leave. I do not want any harm to come to you as a result of my actions. You are welcome to stay if you wish, you can have the bed and I will stay in the chair, I have little need for sleep."

"No, sir, I cannot allow you to do that for me, although I thank you for your kind offer."

"Well, you may stay if that is what you wish," he paused, "You are of the mind that anything I say to the innkeeper will not convince him you are not to blame."

She nodded at him and smiled weakly as she re-entered the room. He smiled back and moved so that she had room to sit on the bed beside him.

By now, she was used to men's eyes hungrily scanning her body, but she was not used to a man simply looking at her in friendly manner. She moved to him and sat.

Legolas had been studying her, and from her body language and the tumult of emotions radiating from her, he sensed grave disappointment in her heart.

"You do not like this place, am I correct?"

"Yes, sir, you are." She looked down at her hands.

"Then why do you stay and rent out your body? Do you have any respect for yourself?"

He winced after he said it. He didn't mean to say it like that, even if he did not approve of her actions. "I'm sorry, I meant not to sound so… judgmental."

She bit her lip. "No, you are right. It's just that, I can't leave."

"Why not, are you not being employed by this man? You could walk out anytime."

"No, I cannot…" She winced as she realized what she was about to tell this elf was strictly forbidden. "I do not get paid for my… attentions."

Legolas regarded her, thoroughly surprised.

"You're not paid? What keeps you here then?"

"I… I can't tell you. I'm sorry, sir."

When Legolas was determined, nothing could stop him, and he was determined to find out more about this matter. It was her business if she chose this career, but if she was forced into it, that was a different matter entirely.

"Could you tell me if you viewed me not as a customer, but as a friend?"

She looked away. She knew perfectly well that if he were to tell her master what she had said, she would be killed. Her master was not above sending spies to her room to evaluate her performance, either. She had every right to be suspicious.

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