Hey guys, thanks for the reviews and comments. I can assure you that they wont get together just let, apart from a few slips here and there that will add to the final effect. Don't we all succumb to lust at one point? (i.e drunken parties and so forth?!)

I'm aware there are a few grammar errors, and for the readers who don't know me, I'm deaf and in my past I have spent more time learning to talk rather than to spell and write and nowadays, I get confused on grammar, punctuations and paragraphs and so forth. This is one reason I write here on fanfiction. Its to improve my writing as I like to be an author as I feel I have some good ideas formulating in my head.

Please could you abide with me and overlook these small errors for the moment till I sort something out? Many thanks!

Please let me know of any queries, POV and so forth.

Just the usual, I don't owe anything to do with LOTR or the works of Tolkien or Peter Jackson for that matter.

Servant Rule Number Three:- Be quick and flexible to your master's demands.

The day that dawned after was one of a busy nature for Isil. For a young maid by the name of Kaey joined the team that was to serve the prince. Not only did Isil had to show Kaey the ropes and show her around, she also had to get the prince ready for an informal banquet that lunch and prepare him for a lazy afternoon's worth of archery.

When she successfully managed to get Kaey to tidy the living room of the prince's quarters and got Legolas out and handsomely dressed for his appointment without any major problems apart from one broken belt that she needed to take to the black smith to re-forge the buckle, Isil slumped down on the Prince's unmade bed and gave the room a withered glance.

Sometime during the night, Legolas thought it would be a good idea to draw hence why there was many plain pieces of paper scattered over his desk and a stain where Legolas dropped the ink well, despite his effort to clean it up and his profuse apologies, Isil frowned and sent him a few mental words of anger for an entire morning wasted, slaving over one spot. She would have to ask Arkle, the only male member of the team for some concoction that would work upon the stain.

With some reluctance, Isil raised herself from the bed and began making it up and folding away Legolas's night clothes. Opening the few curtains that were closed, she noticed how the early morning breeze fluttered the huge gathering of paper on the desk and with interest walked over to see a few of the prince's drawings.

She picked up a few and was instantly impressed by the superb quality of his penmanship.

He caught the tiny details of a small bird that were often found on the balconies, overlooking the palace grounds.

A close up drawing of a rose.

A landscape drawing of some hills that laid to the west of the forest.

Horses.

A waterfall.

Some riders near a cliff.

All drawn to a spectacular finish but one drawing caught her eye. Picking it up, her heart skipped with realisation that it was a drawing of herself, the day she had her hair down and which the prince hasn't left out. He drawn her hair with an possessive energy as if he'd wanted to quickly capture that moment, her head was partly inclined to the right as if she was looking over her shoulder to face him, her eyes hooded and lips apart.

Caught in the prince's work of art, she looked divine and Isil had to smile at that. But what made her smile one of surprise was that there were a few more drawings of herself in different environments.

One by the stables where she was caught in a pose of laughter, saddling up the prince's horse with another stable hand.

Another where she was washing clothes by the river, her head downcast as she washed a sheet in the cool, clear water with her sleeves rolled up and hair tied lazily back.

But there was one caught beautifully in colour ink of herself carrying a candle. From her silver grey eyes that stared back at her, lit by the golden light of the candle that gave her cheeks a rosy tint and her hair a shimmering halo.

This drawing was a thing of beauty due to the work's quality and Isil was reluctant to put it down and place it in a drawer but a starling revelation dawned on her as she put the things of beauty away.

How did he draw these pictures?

The way some of the drawings were, he must have been watching her to do so.

She felt her heart quicken at the thought of being watched at her most intimate and unaware but a smile curved her lips at the feminine appreciations of even being considered as being a subject of the prince's drawings and thoughts.

Undeniably she felt some strange crackle of chemistry with him but did he feel it too?

"Keay!" Arkle called from the bathroom where he was repairing the shelves broken from the night before. In a flutter of motions, Keay shot from one side of the bedroom and disappeared into the bathroom in more time than it took to blink. Isil smiled, the young maid was learning fast and it gave her a sense of relief that some of her burden of the jobs was shared.

"Isil?" Arkled called from the bathroom, Isil entered to see Keay holding up the shelf as Arkle aligned the nails and hammered them in. "I'm suppose to go down onto the archery field to assist in the prince by readying his weapons but it looks as if I'm caught up with this. Can you go instead?"

"Me? I don't know what I have to do!" Isil objected, but Arkle predicted she would say that and rose one eyebrow and said, "You don't know how to hand the prince an arrow or pick them up?"

Isil knew she was defeated and sighed, "Fine."

"You need to wear breeches and you need to be on the field in five minutes."

"Arkle!" she yelped and fled from the room to hurry, leaving an amused Arkle and a wide-eyed Keay staring after her.

Miraculously Isil managed to dress herself and hurry out onto the fields a few minutes before the royal party arrived. She, like all elves were trained to use the arrow so her intelligence concerning the weapon wasn't poor but she did feel a little intimidated when she realised she was the only female out on the archery field and that she was drawing all kinds of attention.

An elf whistled at her breeches clad form as he walked by and Isil, chastened by the act didn't look up in fear of being laughed at. She tested the bow strings by stretching and releasing them, and quickly repaired any arrow feathers which would hinder the arrow's propulsion in flight.

Her ears picked up the arrival of the chattering party, laughing and joking as they walked up the archery field. She saw Legolas walk next to his father and Sana, laughing and making wagers on who will produce the best shot of the match.

Legolas looked down the field to see Isil standing in place of where Arkle should have been, dressed in breeches and a white shirt with a leather wrist guard round her wrist on her firing arm. Her hair was pulled back in a thick plait and Legolas could temptingly make out the taunt roundness of her buttocks clad in those dark brown breeches and even more delightfully, the shirt was unbuttoned a few buttons to reveal pale, creamy skin.

"Isil." He smiled as he took off his tunic to leave him in his shirt.

"Arkle sends his apologies, he's been held up and sent me in his stead." Isil informed him as he looked over his bows.

"He is quite forgiven for sending me this pleasing sight." He looked at her and a smile appeared on his lips as Isil lowered her eyes to the ground, not sure of how to remark to that.

"So then Legolas, what's the wager?" Sana appeared, breaking that moment that existed between the prince and his maid. She tilted her head as Legolas pondered the thought for a moment.

"I wager....a night of undeniable passion for you where I obey your every whim, if I should loose." Sana smiled and placed a hand on his arm.

"Sana!" Leoglas hissed, "Still your tongue."

"Legolas?" Thranduil called out, his son gave the lady on his arm a withering look and turned his attention to his father.

Isil kept her attention on stretching the bows despite hearing all that was said, aware that deep inside her some sickly feeling churned her stomach at the thought of Legolas with Sana. What this strange, new emotion was, Isil was interrupted from exploring it any further when Legolas came back and asked if she could fix his leather archery cuff to his wrist. She threaded the string through each eyelet and tightened it till Legolas told her it was tight enough and tied it, watching the prince move his wrist around to adjust to the new restriction on his hand.

"Where's the wind coming from?" he asked her as he picked up a beech wood bow that had remarkable flexibility in the wood that allowed the archer to draw it back even further than a standard bow.

"Judging from the palace flags...." Isil looked up to the green and gold flags flying on top of every spire, "it's coming from the north east and it's a light breeze. It should be a fine day for archery." Isil informed the prince as he stood there and eyed the target down the field. He nodded to acknowledge her words and looked over to his father who too was clad in shirt and breeches and shouted a friendly jest to him which was greeted by laughter.

Returning his attention to the archery, he quietly ordered Isil to select three arrows and hand him one which Isil complied. She stood back to watch the prince notch the arrow and drew back the string with his three middle fingers and adopt the stance. In one tense yet fluid-like motion, Legolas pulled back the string, took a deep breath which he held and release the arrow with a loud twang. Isil watched it fly the length of the field and thudded into the bulls eye spot, dead centre of the target.

She looked down the line of archers to see Sana poised beautifully as she let her arrow fly with lethal accuracy, as it hit home dead centre. Legolas raised an eyebrow silently at the competition and asked Isil to hand him a shorter arrow, one that would fly faster and lighter. It too hit the dead centre and so did the last one, Legolas won the first round and the following two rounds after.

They stopped for a quick refreshment where the royal party gathered beneath the shade of a large oak tree, bantering and laughing till Sana smiled and said, "Lets make things interesting. See our servants there? Who do you think will win out of them all?"

Thranduil smiled, "Pray, do tell us what you have in mind. Anything would be a welcome change from the predictability of my son's winnings."

"How about we set up our servants to rival each other? I'm very curious to see Legolas's young elleth in action. In fact I wager that she'll loose." Sana eyed Isil from afar and making comparisons to the rest of the competition.

Legolas rose one eyebrow and replied, "I beg to differ, though I haven't seen her in action she seems to hold the grace and strength needed in all good archers. I wager that she'll win."

Sana looked over at the prince, "Really? Such admirable judgement for one who never seen her aim."

"I pride myself on good judgement." The prince retorted, clearly finding Sana's presence very grating indeed.

"Then I accept this wager to see the outcome of your servant." Sana replied.

"She's called Isil." Legolas replied shortly, nearby Thranduil and some other elves watched the exchange with interest, all too aware of the prince's respect for his own maid who was readying his bows unaware that this argument was taking place.

"First name bases I see." Sana frowned as she halted from walking back to her archery spot.

"You see nothing, I treat my staff as I how I wish to be treated I return. That way, I obtain greater respect from them." The prince hissed at the not too subtle accusation that he was intimate with Isil. Sure he liked her, but he knew of the complications of such relationships and he kept it purely as friendship.

Then why does she haunt you mind so?

Why do you everyday look forward to seeing your maid?

Why do you capture her face in your drawings?

And those unspeakable lustful things you wish for? Don't get me started.

Legolas ignored this inner voice chastise him for his logical thoughts, it was anything but logical. It was a frantic scramble to hold on to his dignity and to not let one maid undermine his thoughts and foundations.

"I apologise for offending you my lord." Sana smile disappeared when she saw how she angered the prince so. Thranduil cleared his throat and saw it was his cue to divert another fight, "Come, lets see how all our servants do against each other."

The elves began walking back to their posts when Thranduil grabbed his son's arm and softly said, "Calm yourself son, I'm aware that the Lady Sana's presence does taxes your own but please refrain your tongue from undermining firm alliances I have strengthened over the years."

Legolas halted and sighed, "I'm sorry father."

Thranduil only had to look at his one and most beloved son in his eyes to see he was truly sorry and nodded, allowing a smile to appear on his face which disarmed the hostile air that radiated from Legolas. "Go and get Isil ready."

Legolas waked back to Isil who looked up from stringing a bow and smiled, "Ready to continue?"

"Rather, it'll be you who continue." Legolas replied and gentle took the bow from her hands. "There's been a wager set on the servants to see who will win."

"I'm to take part?" Isil looked up at him with wide eyes, "I'm not one who frequents archery, my skills may leave more to be desired."

"You'll be fine, I'm here." Legolas gently squeezed her shoulder, at those words Isil felt that same, strange warm feeling flood her nerves and leave her breathless.

"Which bow do you want?" Legolas looked over his collection of bows then back at Isil who shrugged, "I do not know."

He looked her over and selected her a bow most suited to her frame and watched her test it. "I'm happy with this one."

"Good, I recommend that you use these arrows, they are much easier to handle and more suitable for novices." Legolas handed her an arrow and watch her take stance.

"Hang on, you're not standing correctly." He stood behind her and with gentle hands, he reposition her as he told her why she should stand like so.

Isil notched the arrow and eyed the target down the field, "Who's your wager?"

"You." Was his quiet reply. Isil looked over her shoulder to see him watching her, "What, to loose?"

"Nay, to win." He gave her a smile and watched her pulled back the arrow and after a few seconds, let it free. He watched it thud into the target and smiled when he realised it was dead centre.

"Did you see that?" she exclaimed ecstatically, a broad smile upon her face as she turned to see Legolas smile, "Don't get too confident yet, you have another two arrows to go." He warned and Isil nodded, falling back into the challenge with a new founded enthusiasm.

Taking the second arrow handed to her, she notched it and resumed her position where Legolas saw her narrow her eyes and frown in concentration. More tantalising was the fact that the wind gently blew her shirt to flatten against her body, he watch her back straighten, causing her chest to protrude from the stress of the motion. His eyes fell on where her shirt laid unbuttoned then to his fascination, he watched how the shirt material grazed and revealed twin peaks of her nipples, alert and hardened by the cool wind. The wind gently pressed the material against her breasts and in that moment she released the arrow, Legolas watched her most avidly from how her breasts swelled to their un-taunt shape, to how she brushed her hair from her face and looked over at him and smiled.

"Another perfect shot!" she grinned.

He nodded, too confused to utter any words. All these un-risen emotions that laid dormant in him was stirred up by the very sight of her. Him, Legolas, prince of Mirkwood and it's finest warrior was confused. And he didn't like it. He felt weak with desire as lust pumped around his body, he lost control on his own limbs as he felt the betraying arousal of his body awaken. And most importantly he lost his control over his heart which thudded harder at the sight of her, which in turn caused his stomach to flip, his lungs to constrict and his tongue too tied up to move. And all for a maid, so oblivious to his discovery.

He numbly handed her the last arrow and silently prayed that this folly of an archery contest would end soon or he swear he will die.

"Legolas? What happens if I loose?" her voice came softly over the wind and the calls of encouragement from the other royal to their servants.

"You wont." He replied, stiffly standing on one spot.

"And if I win?" she looked at him and he felt those deep grey eyes stun his stomach mid-lunge.

"If you win, I grant you a prize." He smiled, the expression feeling old and worn on his face and he fidgeted with his fingers, eager for an source of distraction from the lovely elleth before him.

"What kind of prize?" she rose both eyebrows at him.

"One that you wish for."

Isil, satisfied with that answer, turned back and aimed her arrow. Legolas watched the target and as soon as he heard the bow in her hand sing, he prayed and watched the course of the arrow in its deadly flight. It thudded home, lodged between its siblings to form a cluster in the centre of the target.

"Yes!" Isil jumped up and down with joy and hugged Legolas who was only momentarily stunned then smiled and hugged her back, all too deeply aware of how he enjoyed having her this close to him.

"You done me proud." He spun her around and lowered her to the ground and turned to see Sana smiling with her hand outstretched with twenty gold coins in her palm. She looked Isil over with mild curiosity but bit her tongue when Legolas took his prize and gave half of it to Isil who adamantly refused until he placed it in her hand and ordered her to take it.

He watched Isil lower her head as his father offered her a few words of admiration and smiled at Sana who watched the maid all this time, with a strange look upon her face. He knew women well but some thing in her eyes made him realised that this particular emotion upon her face was one he couldn't calculate. Slightly troubled, he turned his attention to Sana's father who came up to him and softly whispered, "I wager to buy you maid from you. She's such a sweet little thing isn't she?"

"She's not for sale." Legolas replied, silently disapproving of the fact that Sana's father had offered money for another soul's life.

"No?" the elf looked at him and Legolas shook his head, "No."

"Come, let us head back to the palace." Thranduil smiled and lead the party back, leaving the servants, Isil and Legolas upon the archery field.

He watched Isil turn her attention to putting away his weapons and reached out a hand and gently grasped her shoulder, "Well done. What is your prize?"

Isil pondered this for a moment then a smile broke out on her lips, "I wish to see my family for a day. I miss them very much. They live just on the outskirts of the town and if I recall, tomorrow is the day that my mother makes us all some Medina dumplings."

"My favourite." Legolas smiled.

"You wish to join us?" Isil asked.

"Me? Nay, I don't wish to intrude upon your private moment with your family."

"Please do! it'll please my family ever so much!" Isil pleaded. He went to open his mouth to tell her how busy he was but he bit his lips and nodded, "I accept."

"Great!" Isil beamed at him.

"Until tomorrow then, Isil." Legolas smiled and with some reluctance turned and headed back to his pressing duties of being the prince.