A/N: This is an AU!!!! I did warn you. If you don't like AU fics, click
that arrow up in the left hand corner and go bye-bye.
Brief description of history:
Men and elves are at war. It's Mirkwood and Imladris against well, Men. Elves don't take slaves, because it's against their principles, but Men often take Elves as slaves. The men who take slaves are called Slavers.
A/N 2: Legolas is the elven equivalent seven in this fiction. It is debatable about whether his eyes are blue or green, I've heard of both. I think that I'd like to do green for this story.
A/N 3: Last A/N. Whew. This is one of my insane ramblings, which may turn out to be a good story. Who knows? The rating may go up, and this is NOT a Legolas romance. OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!! But, anyway, on with the fic!
Characters will be a bit OOC. It is an AU!!! And besides Legolas is like seven! Sheesh!
~*Sky Magic*~
A/N 4: Ai! One more. Thoughts are in: //. . .// Elvish is in: '. . .' Common Tongue is in ". . ." The Slaver's Tongue is in . . .
K?
Autumn's Child
Chapter One
Silvery eyes regarded the scene before them, seething with rage and pain long remembered. A small group of Slavers tromped through the underbrush, following a pack of large, vicious, half starved dogs that were pulling at long, heavy chains. The Slavers looked as though they could have been any tavern drunkards. Their unkempt hair was matted and greasy, a scraggily beard grew at the chins. Their clothing was filthy and devoid of all color but that of dirt and filth. Their manners were cruel and the wielded a whip with free reign. Their horses were as ill kept as them, made ferocious by training and whips.
A monstrous dog bayed and tugged at its chain, trying to run after it's pray into the woods. The Slavers turned their horses sharply and followed at a gallop. The silver eyes narrowed glinting with malicious intent and a gray cloaked figure jumped into the trees and darted after the Slavers.
***
Green eyes widened with dismay when a loud howling reached his ears. They were coming for him. Small feet lightly danced across the ground as he began to run, long blond hair streaming behind him. //You were stupid again Legolas// he told himself. //If you had listened to Ada, none of this would have happened//
He stole a quick glance over his shoulder and what little hope he had of escape dissipated. He could see the movement of the dogs and galloping horses, hear the men screaming in their alien tongue for their horses to run faster. He turned back to his task of running. If only he had time to climb a tree.
A thick whip smacked against his legs, causing him to stumble on a root. The whip descended again and again on his back, causing him to cry out in pain. The Slavers would flay him within an inch of his life.
***
Veralia cursed herself, looking down at the Slavers. She had not been quick enough to stop them from finding their prey. One of the Slavers, most definitely not the leader, wheedled a whip with surprisingly good aim, brutally flogging a small, huddled figure. The leader stayed in back with five other Slavers, one of which kept a pack of struggling dogs back. //Trust the leader to stay behind// Veralia sneered.
After formulating a small plan in her mind, she notched an arrow to the string of her bow and loosed it. The green fletched arrow plunged deep into the leader's shoulder and knocked him from the saddle. As he cried out in pain, she leapt from her perch in the tree, to grab him from behind, dragging him off the ground. There was a small hiss as she drew her dagger, carefully pressing it against his neck.
Stop.or I'll. Veralia said in the Slavers twisted impression of Common Tongue. She pressed the dagger against the big Man's neck, just enough for a faint crimson line to bloom beneath it. Her speech was limited in the Slaver's tongue, but she could understand every word they said.
Leave the Elf alone! the leader commanded, fearing for his life and pride that were being threatened by a creature nearly half his size.
The whip stopped falling, but only after one more quick lash. What do you want in return for my release? the Slaver asked Veralia.
Veralia narrowed silvery eyes, she had heard the word "elf" used by the Slavers. They had surely not captured an elf. I.will.take.elf. she announced. The man nodded. She pressed against his neck, cutting slightly deeper as a warning of what may come should he attack her, and release him. Veralia cautiously stepped towards the pitiful figure lying on the forest floor, blood seeping from numerous cuts. She scooped him up in one arm, carefully hugging him close to her, looking around before dashing into the trees.
***
Legolas slowly opened his eyes, blinking and staring out at the world. He was lying on a blanket, staring up at the midnight sky and darkened tops of trees. Someone had removed his tattered shirt, and cleaned and bandaged the lash marks. A figure cloaked in gray sat near a fire, rocking back and forth as though thinking about something important. Legolas struggled to sit up.
"You are awake," the person said. She had a soft voice, warm, like a mother's. The words she said sounded harsh and grated in contrast in comparison to her voice, to Legolas.
'I do not understand,' Legolas muttered, having never heard any of the tongues Men spoke before the Slavers had taken him.
'You speak none of the Common Tongue?' Veralia asked, switching to elvish immediately.
'Yes, Ada says it 'tis a vile tongue, I agree with him, now that I have heard it,' Legolas said. 'Who are you?'
'My name is Veralia,' Veralia said.
'Tis a human name!' Legolas exclaimed, standing. 'How is it I should be able to trust you?'
Veralia sighed, she should have seen this coming. She slowly drew down her hood. Pointed ears were revealed. 'I am a half elf, my Mother, an elf, raised me. And further more, were I raised by a human, since I am a commoner, I would not know elvish. Only Lords and Ladies know it, and then, hardly any,' Veralia replied. 'May I know your name little one?'
'Legolas, son of Thranduil, son of Oropher, Crown Prince of Mirkwood,' Legolas answered proudly.
'Elbereth!' Veralia paled. Were the Slavers trying to start yet another war between the Men and Elves? There had been a seeming truce between the Elves and Men that had lasted the last two decades, and would be destroyed by the capture of the King of Mirkwood's son.
'What 'tis wrong?' Legolas asked innocently.
Veralia muttered all the curses she knew in Common Tongue, elvish had no good curses, it was far too poetic to. 'The Slavers may have started a war. 'Tis just like them. I must get you back to your family. Before 'tis too late,' Veralia told the child.
'Too late?' Legolas inquired.
'You are too young to understand. I will explain later, someday,' Veralia muttered. 'Now, we must go to a nearby town to get you some proper attire. I will need you to act as my servant and mute. Can you do this?'
'Aye,' Legolas replied, Veralia offered him a hand up, and started walking at a quick pace.
'I know this village. I am known only as "The Huntress." I am well respected, but am short tempered, as I am normally. We will return back to my camp, after we stay in the town for a time, we need to get a few decent meals into you, and I need to buy some supplies,' Veralia explained. Legolas trotted alongside her, for every step she took, he had to take two.
They soon came to a village, surrounded by high walls made of logs. Lights within twinkled and beckoned to the weary traveler. Veralia knocked upon the gate. "Ah, who is a travelin' round this time o' night?" a voice asked from within. The peephole opened and a man looked out. "Ah! Lady Huntress! 'Tis been some time since we've seen you. Anythin' that brings you a knockin'?"
"My slave was attacked by Slavers, have any been through?" Veralia answered with an icy promise in her voice. Legolas was amazed by the change in her voice.
"Nay. None since the last time, 'bout a week past," the man answered.
"Are there vacant rooms at the Inn?" Veralia asked.
"Aye," the man answered and opened the door into the town. Legolas and Veralia stepped into an entirely different world. The dirt streets were still muddy from the last rain; the only lights came from houses. They stopped before a door, a sign swung above them, telling them they were standing before the Dancing Dove Inn.
'Stay very close to me. I do not trust these Men,' Veralia instructed. Legolas nodded and followed her in.
The inn was noisy, too loud for Legolas' sensitive ears, but he coped and said not a word. It smelled of strong wine and ale, the alcohol floating in the air like a noxious fume. Serving wenches brought tankards of ale to the tables. "I would like a room with two beds, and a bath to be readied," Veralia snapped in a no nonsense voice.
"Aye, Lady, two beds?" A man's gruff voice asked. He peered over the counter at Legolas. "My! A slave! Never thought I'd see you have one."
"He is a servant. I bought him out of pity," Veralia said, loftily, inwardly seething at the word slave.
"Looks as though he's been mistreated," the man said.
"I am a healer, Sir!" Veralia fumed, clearly insulted. "He was picking herbs for me and Slavers attacked him!"
"I meant no offense," the man said, clearly taken aback at her sudden outburst.
"My room will be ready after we have eaten?" Veralia demanded.
"Yes, yes, of course," the man motioned for one of the serving wenches as Legolas and Veralia found a vacant table in a corner.
'Would you like to eat or bathe first?' Veralia asked Legolas in a whisper so soft that even Legolas strained to hear it.
'Eat, the Slavers did not feed us well,' Legolas explained. Veralia nodded.
"You're room 'tis ready," a serving girl informed Veralia. Veralia thanked her and requested that their meal was brought up to them.
***
Veralia and Legolas sat in silence until the serving girl came placed their food at the table and left. 'Now that that is over with, you may speak,' Veralia told Legolas, locking the door.
'What happened down there? Why did you get angry?' Legolas asked instantaneously.
'He suggested that you were my slave and that I had beaten you,' Veralia explained. 'I do not believe in slavery,' she added in a murmur. She took of her cloak and hood and, for the first time, Legolas got a good look at his savior.
She had odd silver eyes that shone dully in the light, almost the same color of the shiny silver on a well-polished sword. Her hair was a light brown with dark blond streaks and braided tightly. Her skin was slightly tanned and worn from being out in harsh weather. Her body was built like an elf's, tall, slender and lithe. She wore green and gray, suitable clothing for traveling and surviving in the woods. Veralia sighed and took off her tooled arm guards, much too well done for someone who had been living out in the wilderness and was a commoner, revealing scars that crisscrossed her arms. One long scar ran from her forehead, down across her left eye and over her cheek.
Legolas devoured his food at an alarming pace, as though he had just survived a five-season famine. Veralia ate hardly any, mostly picking at her food. Legolas saw the vacant look in her eyes and knew her mind was on something else, much like his father's was. //Ada hardly had time for me // Legolas sighed inwardly.
'I will go bathe,' Legolas said with the same hushed voice her used when his Ada had that look on his face. Veralia nodded and stayed silent.
When Legolas emerged, wearing the new clothing that had been placed there for him. Veralia had not moved, but she was there. All of her.
'May I look at your back?' she asked, her voice soft and motherly again.
'Yes,' Legolas took off the shirt. Veralia knelt behind him, carefully looking at the wounds, gently poking with her fingers. Her fingers brushed over one of the slashes that was still open and Legolas hissed in pain.
'I am sorry,' Veralia murmured. She carefully bandaged it, not touching the wounds again. 'I think it 'tis time for you and I to retire, we will have a long day tomorrow, and will be leaving early the next day.' Legolas nodded and climbed into his bed obediently. 'Good night, little one,' Veralia whispered, pulling the covers up around him.
'G'night,' Legolas said softly, and a vacant look fell into his eyes as he drifted to sleep. Veralia moved silently to her own bed, lying down after taking the braid out of her hair. She closed her eyes and waited for sleep to come.
~*~*~*~
The smell of burnt flesh lay heavy in the air, nearly choking her. Smoke rose from a burning fire and the air was thick and stagnant. It was not the first time she had been there. But, she had only gone to treat the poor beings. One hand was shackled to a pole; the guards did not bother with the other shackle. She heard a hiss and a scream of pain. It was not as if she did not know what went on in there.
A read hot iron, with the royal crest glowed brightly in the darkness; she struggled against the shackle, frightened of what was to come. A hand ripped the shirt off her right shoulder, exposing bare skin. A searing pain shot through her body and she screamed, she had been marked, claimed. Whatever innocence she had, had been lost in that moment. She was no longer her own. Her screams turned to sobs and whimpers when the pain dimmed slightly and she collapsed on the floor.
~*~*~*~
Veralia awoke in sweat, covering her mouth to muffle a scream. //It's only a dream. Nothing more, they can't hurt you anymore// she told herself. Her hand moved to touch the back of her shoulder. //It was only a dream. It is over, it will never happen again// Veralia told herself. She looked over at Legolas and smiled bitterly. It was one less Elf that they could ruin. //The little one will be safe, they cannot hurt him as they did you//
A/N: I NEED feedback people. This is my first fic of this sort, you have got to review.
~*Sky Magic*~
Brief description of history:
Men and elves are at war. It's Mirkwood and Imladris against well, Men. Elves don't take slaves, because it's against their principles, but Men often take Elves as slaves. The men who take slaves are called Slavers.
A/N 2: Legolas is the elven equivalent seven in this fiction. It is debatable about whether his eyes are blue or green, I've heard of both. I think that I'd like to do green for this story.
A/N 3: Last A/N. Whew. This is one of my insane ramblings, which may turn out to be a good story. Who knows? The rating may go up, and this is NOT a Legolas romance. OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!! But, anyway, on with the fic!
Characters will be a bit OOC. It is an AU!!! And besides Legolas is like seven! Sheesh!
~*Sky Magic*~
A/N 4: Ai! One more. Thoughts are in: //. . .// Elvish is in: '. . .' Common Tongue is in ". . ." The Slaver's Tongue is in . . .
K?
Autumn's Child
Chapter One
Silvery eyes regarded the scene before them, seething with rage and pain long remembered. A small group of Slavers tromped through the underbrush, following a pack of large, vicious, half starved dogs that were pulling at long, heavy chains. The Slavers looked as though they could have been any tavern drunkards. Their unkempt hair was matted and greasy, a scraggily beard grew at the chins. Their clothing was filthy and devoid of all color but that of dirt and filth. Their manners were cruel and the wielded a whip with free reign. Their horses were as ill kept as them, made ferocious by training and whips.
A monstrous dog bayed and tugged at its chain, trying to run after it's pray into the woods. The Slavers turned their horses sharply and followed at a gallop. The silver eyes narrowed glinting with malicious intent and a gray cloaked figure jumped into the trees and darted after the Slavers.
***
Green eyes widened with dismay when a loud howling reached his ears. They were coming for him. Small feet lightly danced across the ground as he began to run, long blond hair streaming behind him. //You were stupid again Legolas// he told himself. //If you had listened to Ada, none of this would have happened//
He stole a quick glance over his shoulder and what little hope he had of escape dissipated. He could see the movement of the dogs and galloping horses, hear the men screaming in their alien tongue for their horses to run faster. He turned back to his task of running. If only he had time to climb a tree.
A thick whip smacked against his legs, causing him to stumble on a root. The whip descended again and again on his back, causing him to cry out in pain. The Slavers would flay him within an inch of his life.
***
Veralia cursed herself, looking down at the Slavers. She had not been quick enough to stop them from finding their prey. One of the Slavers, most definitely not the leader, wheedled a whip with surprisingly good aim, brutally flogging a small, huddled figure. The leader stayed in back with five other Slavers, one of which kept a pack of struggling dogs back. //Trust the leader to stay behind// Veralia sneered.
After formulating a small plan in her mind, she notched an arrow to the string of her bow and loosed it. The green fletched arrow plunged deep into the leader's shoulder and knocked him from the saddle. As he cried out in pain, she leapt from her perch in the tree, to grab him from behind, dragging him off the ground. There was a small hiss as she drew her dagger, carefully pressing it against his neck.
Stop.or I'll. Veralia said in the Slavers twisted impression of Common Tongue. She pressed the dagger against the big Man's neck, just enough for a faint crimson line to bloom beneath it. Her speech was limited in the Slaver's tongue, but she could understand every word they said.
Leave the Elf alone! the leader commanded, fearing for his life and pride that were being threatened by a creature nearly half his size.
The whip stopped falling, but only after one more quick lash. What do you want in return for my release? the Slaver asked Veralia.
Veralia narrowed silvery eyes, she had heard the word "elf" used by the Slavers. They had surely not captured an elf. I.will.take.elf. she announced. The man nodded. She pressed against his neck, cutting slightly deeper as a warning of what may come should he attack her, and release him. Veralia cautiously stepped towards the pitiful figure lying on the forest floor, blood seeping from numerous cuts. She scooped him up in one arm, carefully hugging him close to her, looking around before dashing into the trees.
***
Legolas slowly opened his eyes, blinking and staring out at the world. He was lying on a blanket, staring up at the midnight sky and darkened tops of trees. Someone had removed his tattered shirt, and cleaned and bandaged the lash marks. A figure cloaked in gray sat near a fire, rocking back and forth as though thinking about something important. Legolas struggled to sit up.
"You are awake," the person said. She had a soft voice, warm, like a mother's. The words she said sounded harsh and grated in contrast in comparison to her voice, to Legolas.
'I do not understand,' Legolas muttered, having never heard any of the tongues Men spoke before the Slavers had taken him.
'You speak none of the Common Tongue?' Veralia asked, switching to elvish immediately.
'Yes, Ada says it 'tis a vile tongue, I agree with him, now that I have heard it,' Legolas said. 'Who are you?'
'My name is Veralia,' Veralia said.
'Tis a human name!' Legolas exclaimed, standing. 'How is it I should be able to trust you?'
Veralia sighed, she should have seen this coming. She slowly drew down her hood. Pointed ears were revealed. 'I am a half elf, my Mother, an elf, raised me. And further more, were I raised by a human, since I am a commoner, I would not know elvish. Only Lords and Ladies know it, and then, hardly any,' Veralia replied. 'May I know your name little one?'
'Legolas, son of Thranduil, son of Oropher, Crown Prince of Mirkwood,' Legolas answered proudly.
'Elbereth!' Veralia paled. Were the Slavers trying to start yet another war between the Men and Elves? There had been a seeming truce between the Elves and Men that had lasted the last two decades, and would be destroyed by the capture of the King of Mirkwood's son.
'What 'tis wrong?' Legolas asked innocently.
Veralia muttered all the curses she knew in Common Tongue, elvish had no good curses, it was far too poetic to. 'The Slavers may have started a war. 'Tis just like them. I must get you back to your family. Before 'tis too late,' Veralia told the child.
'Too late?' Legolas inquired.
'You are too young to understand. I will explain later, someday,' Veralia muttered. 'Now, we must go to a nearby town to get you some proper attire. I will need you to act as my servant and mute. Can you do this?'
'Aye,' Legolas replied, Veralia offered him a hand up, and started walking at a quick pace.
'I know this village. I am known only as "The Huntress." I am well respected, but am short tempered, as I am normally. We will return back to my camp, after we stay in the town for a time, we need to get a few decent meals into you, and I need to buy some supplies,' Veralia explained. Legolas trotted alongside her, for every step she took, he had to take two.
They soon came to a village, surrounded by high walls made of logs. Lights within twinkled and beckoned to the weary traveler. Veralia knocked upon the gate. "Ah, who is a travelin' round this time o' night?" a voice asked from within. The peephole opened and a man looked out. "Ah! Lady Huntress! 'Tis been some time since we've seen you. Anythin' that brings you a knockin'?"
"My slave was attacked by Slavers, have any been through?" Veralia answered with an icy promise in her voice. Legolas was amazed by the change in her voice.
"Nay. None since the last time, 'bout a week past," the man answered.
"Are there vacant rooms at the Inn?" Veralia asked.
"Aye," the man answered and opened the door into the town. Legolas and Veralia stepped into an entirely different world. The dirt streets were still muddy from the last rain; the only lights came from houses. They stopped before a door, a sign swung above them, telling them they were standing before the Dancing Dove Inn.
'Stay very close to me. I do not trust these Men,' Veralia instructed. Legolas nodded and followed her in.
The inn was noisy, too loud for Legolas' sensitive ears, but he coped and said not a word. It smelled of strong wine and ale, the alcohol floating in the air like a noxious fume. Serving wenches brought tankards of ale to the tables. "I would like a room with two beds, and a bath to be readied," Veralia snapped in a no nonsense voice.
"Aye, Lady, two beds?" A man's gruff voice asked. He peered over the counter at Legolas. "My! A slave! Never thought I'd see you have one."
"He is a servant. I bought him out of pity," Veralia said, loftily, inwardly seething at the word slave.
"Looks as though he's been mistreated," the man said.
"I am a healer, Sir!" Veralia fumed, clearly insulted. "He was picking herbs for me and Slavers attacked him!"
"I meant no offense," the man said, clearly taken aback at her sudden outburst.
"My room will be ready after we have eaten?" Veralia demanded.
"Yes, yes, of course," the man motioned for one of the serving wenches as Legolas and Veralia found a vacant table in a corner.
'Would you like to eat or bathe first?' Veralia asked Legolas in a whisper so soft that even Legolas strained to hear it.
'Eat, the Slavers did not feed us well,' Legolas explained. Veralia nodded.
"You're room 'tis ready," a serving girl informed Veralia. Veralia thanked her and requested that their meal was brought up to them.
***
Veralia and Legolas sat in silence until the serving girl came placed their food at the table and left. 'Now that that is over with, you may speak,' Veralia told Legolas, locking the door.
'What happened down there? Why did you get angry?' Legolas asked instantaneously.
'He suggested that you were my slave and that I had beaten you,' Veralia explained. 'I do not believe in slavery,' she added in a murmur. She took of her cloak and hood and, for the first time, Legolas got a good look at his savior.
She had odd silver eyes that shone dully in the light, almost the same color of the shiny silver on a well-polished sword. Her hair was a light brown with dark blond streaks and braided tightly. Her skin was slightly tanned and worn from being out in harsh weather. Her body was built like an elf's, tall, slender and lithe. She wore green and gray, suitable clothing for traveling and surviving in the woods. Veralia sighed and took off her tooled arm guards, much too well done for someone who had been living out in the wilderness and was a commoner, revealing scars that crisscrossed her arms. One long scar ran from her forehead, down across her left eye and over her cheek.
Legolas devoured his food at an alarming pace, as though he had just survived a five-season famine. Veralia ate hardly any, mostly picking at her food. Legolas saw the vacant look in her eyes and knew her mind was on something else, much like his father's was. //Ada hardly had time for me // Legolas sighed inwardly.
'I will go bathe,' Legolas said with the same hushed voice her used when his Ada had that look on his face. Veralia nodded and stayed silent.
When Legolas emerged, wearing the new clothing that had been placed there for him. Veralia had not moved, but she was there. All of her.
'May I look at your back?' she asked, her voice soft and motherly again.
'Yes,' Legolas took off the shirt. Veralia knelt behind him, carefully looking at the wounds, gently poking with her fingers. Her fingers brushed over one of the slashes that was still open and Legolas hissed in pain.
'I am sorry,' Veralia murmured. She carefully bandaged it, not touching the wounds again. 'I think it 'tis time for you and I to retire, we will have a long day tomorrow, and will be leaving early the next day.' Legolas nodded and climbed into his bed obediently. 'Good night, little one,' Veralia whispered, pulling the covers up around him.
'G'night,' Legolas said softly, and a vacant look fell into his eyes as he drifted to sleep. Veralia moved silently to her own bed, lying down after taking the braid out of her hair. She closed her eyes and waited for sleep to come.
~*~*~*~
The smell of burnt flesh lay heavy in the air, nearly choking her. Smoke rose from a burning fire and the air was thick and stagnant. It was not the first time she had been there. But, she had only gone to treat the poor beings. One hand was shackled to a pole; the guards did not bother with the other shackle. She heard a hiss and a scream of pain. It was not as if she did not know what went on in there.
A read hot iron, with the royal crest glowed brightly in the darkness; she struggled against the shackle, frightened of what was to come. A hand ripped the shirt off her right shoulder, exposing bare skin. A searing pain shot through her body and she screamed, she had been marked, claimed. Whatever innocence she had, had been lost in that moment. She was no longer her own. Her screams turned to sobs and whimpers when the pain dimmed slightly and she collapsed on the floor.
~*~*~*~
Veralia awoke in sweat, covering her mouth to muffle a scream. //It's only a dream. Nothing more, they can't hurt you anymore// she told herself. Her hand moved to touch the back of her shoulder. //It was only a dream. It is over, it will never happen again// Veralia told herself. She looked over at Legolas and smiled bitterly. It was one less Elf that they could ruin. //The little one will be safe, they cannot hurt him as they did you//
A/N: I NEED feedback people. This is my first fic of this sort, you have got to review.
~*Sky Magic*~