Disclaimer: *points to Tolkien* All his. Not mine.

Author's Notes:

Thanks for reading this chapter. Please review! You keep me going, both in this story and life in general. PLEASE pretty please add me to your favourites? *smiles*

Should I put the review replies at the end of the chapter? What do you think?

I have decided that I will not be beta-read because I want to update faster. HOWEVER, if you do see anything that really needs fixing (typos, wrong names, bad Elvish or grammar etc.) e-mail me. I will try to fix it as soon as possible. 

Jacinta Kenobi: Depth is coming as soon as Elrond will appear. In a little while yet… I am so honoured that you would even review my story. After all, I AM waiting for YOUR update. Hehe. I love your story. Keep going. I've just added you on my favourite authors!

The-Serious-Padfoot: You have made my dream! Thanks I REALLY love being on people's favourites. 

FrodoBaggins87: I think Legolas is the human equivalent of 10. Thanks for you review.

Vana E: Glad you do feel better. Cool! I'm in your journal! Thanks!  Thank you so much! How do I get an account? I want to join so I can comment on your journal! (I did try last night) If you don't want to, I understand tho…I will keep the site in mind… (Must visit everyday! It's really interesting!) More EPT is planned ahead…please stay tuned and review. Thanks. You've been added to my list of favourite authors!   

The story continues. Legolas' thoughts are in italics.

Legolas awoke and found himself on the cold floor. He tried to sit up. Immediately, intense pain flared up his ribs. Pain? Suddenly the unbidden memories of the beating surfaced, fresh and painful on his mind. I don't want to think about it. I feel like I've betrayed myself. Maybe I am not really fit to be a prince, just like father said. He was always right. Or is he? I can't just give up! I must hold onto hope – but even that seems far away. He winced as he sat up slowly. His bruised back was starting to throb. His wrist was in a worse condition, the bone was now protruding out of his flesh. The sprain had been worsened when Legolas had been chained. I didn't notice the pain then he thought regretfully.

He shivered as his upper torso was bare. Githil had stripped his tunic off his back when he beat him. His hair was in a mess. I don't think I even look like a prince anymore, more like a slave. Legolas' thoughts were grim. He rubbed his arms to warm himself but he cried out in pain as his wrist protested against the movement. The bronze slave band was caked with blood.

Legolas surveyed the rest of his wounds. His stomach and chest were severely bruised. Probably when he kicked me. His lip was split. Legolas staggered to his feet and felt a wave of pain and vertigo crash onto him. He managed his balance only as an elf could. 

The door was suddenly open, startling him. I wasn't even focused, Legolas silently berated himself for his lack of alertness.

"You are up, I see, " Ruthiun smirked. "Your punishment is not over yet. It seems that you have not yet learned the proper etiquette to address someone of a higher status. You must kneel, slave."

Legolas, tired and sore, did not dissent this. "Yes master," he replied meekly. He knelt down even though his back ached. All I want to do is lie down. He sighed inwardly.

"You have three days fasting and hard labour. Your work begins now. Get up. If you fail to do your work, you will see the supervisor," Ruthiun threatened.

Legolas replied with complete obedience. He did not want to see Githil anytime soon. I fear him. He is my master.

Ruthiun was clearly contented with the subdued version of the prince. He is starting to learn, he thought, I won't ever doubt my brother's skill in training the palace servants. The prince fears Githil, he shakes at the mention of him, Ruthiun thought with a smile.

Meanwhile, Legolas slouched outside. Instantly he was called.

"Servant Greenleaf!" said a tall man on the other side of the room.

Legolas hurried to the corner to be addressed.

"You! You are the prince slave. Well, that makes no difference now." The elf said hurriedly. "I am Herendil and I am the Sub-supervisor. You are now servant Greanleaf. Hurry up and put the tunic on. Then I'll tell you what you have to do."

"Yes master," Legolas bowed and quickly put the simple white tunic on. The rough fabric scratched against his already abused shoulders. He winced but did not say anything. He stood subserviently and looked at the ground. He does not seem surprised to see that I have been beaten. He doesn't seem like a bad man, just like one ordered to do his job.

Legolas' musing were cut short. "We haven't all day! Listen and don't daydream!" The sub-supervisor said impatiently as he led Legolas down to a large room. It was dusty and full of cobwebs. The windows had dirty grey streaks marring their otherwise beautiful pane. The floor was a mess, covered with mud and dust. A single glass cabinet stood in a corner of the room. Filth covered some silver objects. Swords and daggers.    

"Your task is to finish cleaning this room COMPLETELY by the end of tomorrow morning. You are to receive no meals except a small piece of bread IF you complete the task. Mop and scrub the floors. Clean the windows and get rid of the cobwebs. Polish the glass cabinet and its contents. You know the consequences of failure. Understood?" the supervisor explained. He wouldn't answer my questions anyway. This task is close to impossible. I bet Githil and Ruthiun cooked this up just to get me into trouble, Legolas thought bitterly.

"Yes master." Legolas answered neutrally. His voice did not betray his feelings. 

"Everything you need is in the room adjacent to this one. Over by that door. Good luck." He pointed in his left direction to a concealed doorway. He left silently leaving Legolas to his task. The door closed quietly, Legolas didn't even bother to check if it was locked. It always is. Githil locked all of his rooms. I don't have to bet that this one is too.    

Legolas gave a sigh then put on a determined look. If I want to show them that I can do any task I set I'd better get started. He looked down at his broken wrist and gently touched his aching ribs. This won't be easy…

        

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