Hey, I got two reviews for this story. I was about to give up on it, but I won't. So, I guess here's the next chapter.
"I said I wanted roast! Not ham!" King Celva yelled at his servent. He flung the the dish of food at the servent and stood up. The servent stood up, only to be knocked down by a slap to the face. "You are dismissed till further notice." The servent stood and left.
The servent walked down the great halls of the palace. The palace was big and filled with riches and gold it would make a dwarf want to be a servent just to be this close to gold. The servent was a man of about twenty. Short, black, dirty hair hung down pass his chin. He wore the servent clothes which were a pair of rags sown together to make the shirt, and green leggings. He was one of the many servents to be alive. Usually King Celva would kill his servents after they served him for more than two years. This man served the king for ten years.
He passed a servent and smiled. A boy of only eighteen was the only one who could stand guard of the servents quarters. King Celva wouldn't let that happen, but since this boy couldn't talk, the king let him.
"Suilad," [Greetings] the man said. He saw the boy nodded his head. He was the only one who could talk elvish and only used it to those who were servents. He was raised by elves since he was little. He walked in and saw the servent cook, Madilen.
"Suilad, Mr. Strider," she said with a smile. She loved the elvish language and knew some, but not all.
"How have you been Madilen?"
"Just fine. I hard the King yell about wanting roast. I am sorry."
"Do not be sorry." Strider walked to his bed and layed down. The best part of the servents was that when they were dismissed till further notice, ment you won't be seen for several days. You just stay in the quarters until called for.
"Did you guys here?" a man asked, walking in. The man stood at a good six feet. His hair was also dirty and hung down to his shoulders. He was the stable servent so he would come in smelling like a barn.
"What is it this time?" Madilen asked, not looking up from her pot.
"King Cleva is getting ready to get a new servent. A pretty on I hear."
"Where?" Strider asked. He knew of the kings love for pretty servents. You would think he ment women, but he really ment men. This king was the worst person ever in the servents eyes. They had a pretty servent man named Ronald one time. The king would only us him for his pleasure and one day, Ronald killed himself. Said he couldn't take the abuse the king was giving him.
"Sorry to say this Strider, but he's looking for an elf. He hears there are pretty ones out there."
"MAN?" [What?] Strider asked. He couldn't believe it. Anything but an elf. If he did anything to the elf, the elf would die right there. He also had a fear of where the elf would come from. Mirkwood.
"Sorry Strider, but yes. He got me readying a horse for an elven releam (sp?) I think Mir...Mirwood?"
"Mirkwood," Strider corrected.
"That's it. Mirkwood. He heard of the pretty elves." He heard yelling coming closer to the quarters and then the door was pushed opened.
"Mr. Strider. I hear you are good at elvish language?" King Celva asked with a smile.
"That is right, my king."
"Then you shall come with us. I want a pretty elf and I hear they are mean when they don't want to be forced into anything."
"That is right," Strider said. "I will come, but I will not promise anything when we get there. Elves are really good at knowing when evil is near."
"I will take that as a good answer. Now, get ready. We leave in two hours." King Celva walked out.
"What are you going to do?" Madilen asked.
"I must do what he wants. I know Mirkwood and knowing those elves, evil is not welcome." Strider got his things ready and walked out with the stable servent and was praying he could help the elves when he got there. Maybe he could get away and find his friend Legolas. He only hoped and prayed.
"I said I wanted roast! Not ham!" King Celva yelled at his servent. He flung the the dish of food at the servent and stood up. The servent stood up, only to be knocked down by a slap to the face. "You are dismissed till further notice." The servent stood and left.
The servent walked down the great halls of the palace. The palace was big and filled with riches and gold it would make a dwarf want to be a servent just to be this close to gold. The servent was a man of about twenty. Short, black, dirty hair hung down pass his chin. He wore the servent clothes which were a pair of rags sown together to make the shirt, and green leggings. He was one of the many servents to be alive. Usually King Celva would kill his servents after they served him for more than two years. This man served the king for ten years.
He passed a servent and smiled. A boy of only eighteen was the only one who could stand guard of the servents quarters. King Celva wouldn't let that happen, but since this boy couldn't talk, the king let him.
"Suilad," [Greetings] the man said. He saw the boy nodded his head. He was the only one who could talk elvish and only used it to those who were servents. He was raised by elves since he was little. He walked in and saw the servent cook, Madilen.
"Suilad, Mr. Strider," she said with a smile. She loved the elvish language and knew some, but not all.
"How have you been Madilen?"
"Just fine. I hard the King yell about wanting roast. I am sorry."
"Do not be sorry." Strider walked to his bed and layed down. The best part of the servents was that when they were dismissed till further notice, ment you won't be seen for several days. You just stay in the quarters until called for.
"Did you guys here?" a man asked, walking in. The man stood at a good six feet. His hair was also dirty and hung down to his shoulders. He was the stable servent so he would come in smelling like a barn.
"What is it this time?" Madilen asked, not looking up from her pot.
"King Cleva is getting ready to get a new servent. A pretty on I hear."
"Where?" Strider asked. He knew of the kings love for pretty servents. You would think he ment women, but he really ment men. This king was the worst person ever in the servents eyes. They had a pretty servent man named Ronald one time. The king would only us him for his pleasure and one day, Ronald killed himself. Said he couldn't take the abuse the king was giving him.
"Sorry to say this Strider, but he's looking for an elf. He hears there are pretty ones out there."
"MAN?" [What?] Strider asked. He couldn't believe it. Anything but an elf. If he did anything to the elf, the elf would die right there. He also had a fear of where the elf would come from. Mirkwood.
"Sorry Strider, but yes. He got me readying a horse for an elven releam (sp?) I think Mir...Mirwood?"
"Mirkwood," Strider corrected.
"That's it. Mirkwood. He heard of the pretty elves." He heard yelling coming closer to the quarters and then the door was pushed opened.
"Mr. Strider. I hear you are good at elvish language?" King Celva asked with a smile.
"That is right, my king."
"Then you shall come with us. I want a pretty elf and I hear they are mean when they don't want to be forced into anything."
"That is right," Strider said. "I will come, but I will not promise anything when we get there. Elves are really good at knowing when evil is near."
"I will take that as a good answer. Now, get ready. We leave in two hours." King Celva walked out.
"What are you going to do?" Madilen asked.
"I must do what he wants. I know Mirkwood and knowing those elves, evil is not welcome." Strider got his things ready and walked out with the stable servent and was praying he could help the elves when he got there. Maybe he could get away and find his friend Legolas. He only hoped and prayed.