The Servant

Rating: R

Summary: A servant in the palace of Thranduil is more than what she seems. When Legolas saves her life will love blossom or will what she is and what she will become force his views of her to change? Legolas/ OC

Disclaimer: Anything you don't recognize is mine, the rest is from the creative mind of J.R.R. Tolkien.

A/N: I am a first time writer, so any comments are appreciated. I took some liberties with the Elvish language, since I do not speak it.

Chapter One: Crime and Punishment

The air is soft and cool this eve. Deep in the heart of Mirkwood, in the palace of Thranduil, a girl stood listening to the fair voices of the Elves. Standing in an outdoor passage just outside the dinning hall, the girl looked in longingly wishing the same thing she has for as long as she could remember, to be an Elf, not of the race of Man. The girl keep the hood of her robe up to hide her rounded ears, the tell tale sign that she was not an Elf. She had richly tanned skin from working many days out in the sun, especially when compared to the fair skin of the Elves she lived with. Because she did not possess the strength of the elves she had developed strong arms, legs, and back. To a Man she would have been beautiful, with full breasts and lips, small chin and nose, slightly slanted brown eyes, and long, shiny, dark brown hair. However, many of her Elven counter parts consider her to be ugly and made no secret about it, and she believed them. She often wondered how she could be beautiful when surrounded by such fair folk.

The girl did not belong in this part of the palace and she knew it. She was a servant, a low servant, the lowest of servants whom anyone could order about and was mostly used for hard labor. The girl had been sent on an errand and decided to take a longer route back to the laundry. Looking in the dinning hall she sighed, knowing she would never be a part of the laughter and dancing of the nobles. She was just a servant, and should be grateful that the Elves had allowed her to remain there at all after she was found wandering in their woods at the age of seven. Berating herself for tarrying there so long, she took one last look at the hall and started back on her way. Looking down and thinking to her self, she did not noticed the tall, blond, he-Elf that was headed towards her deep in his own thoughts. In mid-stride the girl hit a soft wall. Falling backwards and landing with a small "umff" recovering from her shock she noticed a fine pair boots and quickly scrambled to her knees grabbing at the laundry that she had been carrying.

"Sorry, My Lord, please forgive me." She said softly.

"That's alright." said a distinctly male voice, with a slight hint of amusement, "Here allow me to help."

Bending down the he-Elf picked up a piece of laundry and handing it to the girl. The girl looked up startled, "Thank you, My Lord." Looking into a pair of deep blue eyes.

The he-Elf looked deep into the brown eyes before him, as if in a spell. In those eyes he saw a youngness, like new fallen snow, pure and white; yet, there was a sad, haunted ness, as of one who has lived long and lost much.

At that moment an Elf, almost more orc than Elf, rounded the corner; he is the master of the low servant, Lathandil.

"There you are!" Lathandil cried "What do you think you are doing in this part of the palace!" anger thick in his voice.

The spell between the two figures on the ground was broken. Tearing his eyes away from the girls, the he-Elf stood.

"Prince Legolas!" Lathandil squeaked, bowing deep, "I am sorry my charge has bothered you, My Lord. I promise it will never happen again and rest assured that the hu-man will be punished." Looking pointedy at the girl.

"Really there is no need for that." Said Legolas looking at the girl, who was now cowering, face down on the ground before him. The brows on the prince's fair forehead knitted together and a frown set upon his lips. "I must be going." Said Legolas to Lathandil. Looking back at the girl Legolas turned and continued on his way.

Lathandil bowed deeply to the departing prince. Standing straight Lathandil looked over at the girl next to him. "Get up hu-man! This is going to be fifty lashes for you." He said with a hint of twisted delight.

~*~

Legolas turned the corner heading towards the dinning hall. Again he was deep in thought, though this time about the girl. Her eyes troubled him, and the master servant referring to her as hu-man, or "dirty" man. 'Does this then mean the girl is not an elf?' thought Legolas, 'If she is of Man, then how did she end up with the low servants, how did she get here at all? And what of her eyes; so sad, so haunted?' Legolas was suddenly pulled out of his revelry by the sound of the master servant's voice telling the girl her punishment. "Fifty lashes!" he exclaimed. Turning on his heel Legolas headed swiftly back to the girl. Alas, he was not quick enough, the girl was gone. Legolas quickly ran over to the railing on the outer edge of the outdoor passage. Placing one hand on the rail Legolas swung his legs up and over the rail, lightly landing on the passage beneath. Legolas ran down the passage towards his chambers.

~*~

The girl followed Lathandil down the passage, down many stairs and onto the forest floor. He headed straight towards two large oak trees where ropes were tied around them with a little dangling down. The ground between the trees was covered with dark red stains, someone's blood was spilt here fairly recently.

Lathandil stopped near the trees, turning he looked at the girl a cruel, sickening smile split his face. Slowly he circled her looking her up and down, appraising her.

"What were you doing up there?" asked Lathandil. "Looking for a drunk noble for your bed tonight, no doubt." He said with a sneer. "Did you actually think that even drunk a noble would touch you? Much less the prince? Even other servants won't touch you why would a noble, even drunk they would see your ugliness, your filthy ness, hu-man." At this Lathandil pushed back the hood of the girls robe, "Let this be a lesson to you, remember you are only getting exactly what you deserve." He whispered this into her ear. Grabbing the front of her robe Lathandil pulled it open, roughly he pushed the robe off the girl's shoulders forcing the load in her hands to be dropped to the ground. She stood there naked down to the waist, the cool air made her skin to become bumpy with goose flesh, and a chill ran down her back. However, she stood her ground, tall and proud, as if she were royalty in a full dress.

"Stand between the trees!" Lathandil ordered, looking at her with disgust. Lathindil found the race of Man to be a waste of flesh, dirty, immoral, and loud.

The girl went slowly, with the grace that she had learned from living with the Elves, to the space between the two trees. Lathandil grabbed a naked arm and raised it to the dangling rope and tied the rope tightly around her wrist, he did this to both wrist, tying the ropes so tight that they cut into the girls wrists. Moving around behind her Lathandil pick up his favorite weapon of torture, the whip, feeling the thick handle of hide in his hand, he allowed himself a practice swing, aiming the whip end to crack next to the girl's ear.

Hearing the crack next to her ear she readied herself for the beating she knew would come. This was not the first time she had been punished in this fashion, but this she knew that this was going to be the worse.

The first lash stung the girl on her shoulder, leaving a large red welt. The girl drew in a sharp breath and bit back the scream building in her throat. She would not allow Lathandil the satisfaction of getting a reaction out of her. The girl stood her ground. The moon glow lit the forest floor glinting off the red blood that stained the girls back, the ground seemed to glow red as her blood spilt over them.

"Scream hu-man! I want to hear you scream!" Lathandil yelled, swinging the whip harder. Lash after lash she stood there, half naked, arms tied to the trees on either side of her, never uddering a sound, bearing the pain, never giving in.

Finally the beating ended. Walking around the girl Lathandil brought his face close to the girls, whispering so softly that she could barely hear it. Lathandil issued a threat, "This was only a warning girl, if I ever catch you doing anything with the prince again…" A cold cruel smile played upon his lips as he backed away from the girl, leaving the rest of the threat to the girl's imagination. Reaching up Lathandil undid the binds the held the girls arms and stalked off.

The girl crumpled to the ground as soon as he was gone. The pain was excruciating, Lathandil went far beyond fifty lashes. The girl struggled to get her robe back around her. Standing with the help of one of the trees, she felt light headed and very weak, it took all her concentration to move her foot forward to take a step. Trying hard not to stumble and leaning on to anything that would support her, she slowly made her way back to her room on the lower level of the palace. The blood from her back soaked her robe, turning it from brown to a sickening black. Thinking only of rest the girl stumbled into her room and laid down on her bed, the loss of blood and infection that was creeping into her wounds clouded her mind and threw her into a deep dark sleep. A chill crept into the room, a dark chill, it settled into the girl's bones, and into her dreams. Not moving, and just barely breathing the girl slept on, falling deeper into the darkness.