A/N: This is my first try at slash and also my first time at writing from a male perspective. I would love a review to tell me how I'm doing so far. Also, I'm not exactly sure whether I want Isabella to be a villian or not, but she'll most likely play a large role in this story.
Chapter two: The king
Faramir sighed in frustration as he tried in vain to read the complex series of numbers and what Sienna had called 'formula's' of some type. The finish product was supoosed to be an easy cure for the outbreak of serious illness that had been sweeping across Gondor off and on for the past few decades but Sienna had died before she could make more than two finished potions or explain her work to another healer.
Common sense told him that the next outbreak of this illness would come this winter, but he was ill perpared to deal with it. He feared what could happen if they were hit with another mass outbreak with no cure in sight.
The door to his study opened, but Faramir didn't bother to look up. Only two people would walk casually into his study unannounced and the King was busy with meetings all morning.
"There's this old custom, it's called knocking. You should try it." There was no real anger in his voice though and an inelegant snort was his answer.
"Faramir, why you insist on leaving your study so dark and dusty is beyond me." Isabella told him, and walked over to the window pushing the curtains all the way open. Light immediately filled the room, and dust could be seen over every surface in the study other than the desk.
"I'm ordering a chambermaid to clean this room. Thoroughly." Isabella told him, her small button nose twisting as if the very sight of the room offended her. Faramir was sure it did. Isabella didn't believe in dust.
"Hm.." Faramir made a noncommitable noise, and set the parchment down, giving up on making sense of it for now.
"Still trying to figure out Sienna's cure?" Isabella asked plopping down in the seat across from his and picking up the parchment.
"Aren't I always? But you didn't come here to talk about this." Faramir stated and looked over at Isabella. She looked perfectly composed, but those who knew her could see beyond the porcelain skin, rosebud shaped red lips, perfect delicate features and cold blue eyes, could easily see the anger gathering just beneath the surface. Isabella might look like a perfect poreclain doll but she was far from niave and empty headed.
"Yes. What's this about an Elf, who supposedly reminds people of me?" Isabella demanded, her eyes becoming slits. Faramir bit back a groan. He really hated being the middleman between whatever crazy dysfunctional relationship Isabella and Boromir had.
"I know as much as you do, Bel. An Elf was captured and brought here to be sold as a slave. The person who captured him apparently thinks that Boromir would like to have the Elf. It was remarked by a few people who saw him that his hair and bearing was much like yours." Faramir explained patiently.
"Is Boromir going to buy him?" Isabella asked, her eyes flashing coldly.
"I don't know. It's a possibility. The Elf is being brought before him at mid-day." He wondered if she really cared that Boromir was thinking of buying a pleasure slave or if she just cared that she was being compared to a slave.
"Right." Isabella said shortly, and stood up striding to the door. She turned once more before leaving, "That chambermaid will be here at dawn."
Legolas woke up to a light tapping on the door. The sun was already high, and he was surprised he had slept so long, but he felt a lot better than he did yesterday.
"Come in." He called out, burrowing deeper into the covers, not wanting to move just yet. For the first time in weeks his mind was mostly clear, the drugs the Men had been given him slowly working out of his body.
"Legolas, you have to get ready. You only have about two hours before you're to see the King." Amelia told him.
Just like that reality hit him like a bucket of freezing water. He wasn't safe. He wasn't free. He was still going to be sold, to the King or to some random person. A shiver of fear went through him along with anger. He tried to hold tight to that anger but he was to nervous to be truly angry.
"I've drawn a bath for you already, and clothes are in there. My husband's already waiting for you." He had a feeling Amelia told him that so he wouldn't get any ideas about escaping.
He stood up numbly and followed Amelia out. After his bathe he tried in vain to find a mirror.
"Irvin, do you have a mirror?" He finally gave in and asked the man who shook his head.
"Legolas, I can put your braids in your hair if you'd like?"Lady Amelia who had just came in offered and Legolas turned to her.
"Do you know how to do Elvish braids?" He asked doubtfully, but she smiled and took the comb out of his hands.
"The same Elf who taught me elvish also showed me the different types of braids. Warrior?" She asked referring to the braids and Legolas nodded.
"What will happen if the King does not buy me?" He asked Irvin the question that had been on his mind since he had first been captured, as they sat at the table eating a late breakfast.
Irvin looked at him apprasingly for a moment, "Do not get your hopes up for I truly believe the King will buy you. However, if and this is a big if, he does not buy you, Amelia and I have decided we will buy you. Once you buy a slave you have to keep the slave for a minimum of one year before you can give them their freedom," Irvin looked at Legolas closely to see his reaction, but the Elf's face was expressionless, "and then you will be able to leave Gondor."
Legolas felt his jaw muscle twitch. If the King didn't want him, and he sincerely hoped he didn't, then Irvin would buy him. It rankled Legolas that he would be bought, and he could feel anger coursing through his entire being. He wanted to lash out but common sense told him that Irvin was the best person to buy him and that one year as a slave was better than whatever anyone else would have planned for him. He took a deep breath to cool his anger. He didn't want Irvin to decide not to buy him because he lost his temper.
"It's okay to be angry." Irvin said after a moment, and Legolas decided this Human was far too perceptive.
"You think the King is going to keep me." Legolas said, avoiding the previous statement.
"I do. I would be shocked if he did not, for he desires blondes and there are not many in Gondor. Even less that could compare with your beauty." Legolas forced himself not to flush. He was an Elf, of course he was handsome, and Irvin didn't mean anything by it. He had a wife. "Indeed I know of only one. Her name is Lady Isabella."
Legolas started at that. He had heard the Men who captured him speak of Lady Isabella many times. "Who is Lady Isabella?" Though he asked Irvin, Amelia answered.
"She is the niece of a Harad Prince. Her mother was captured and brought to Minas Trith to stay in the castle after Harad lost a particularly crushing battle. Her name was Princess Sakoya. She lived in the castle as nothing more than a glorified slave, a prize for King Denethor to show off and a insult to Harad. A mistress. After King Denethor was done with her she was given to his Steward, a man by the name of Gavin. Gavin is Isabella's father. Her mother was killed by him in front of her in a fit of rage."
Legolas began to feel increasingly sorry for this woman. That is, until Irvin picked up where his wife left off, "Do not mistake my wife, Legolas. It is a tragic story yes, but Lady Isabella does not like pity, and she makes for a terrible enemy. Stay as far away from her as you can, for once she decides she doesn't like someone they inevitably turn up dead."
Legolas eyes widened. "You think she will try to kill me?"
"No. As long as you draw no attention to yourself she will most likely dismiss you as unimportant. Treat her with the utmost respect if you see her, but whenever she is around it would be best to fade into the background." Amelia advised, looking at him meaningfully.
The meal was eaten in silence. "It is time to go. I will need to rebind you." Irvin reluctantly told the Elf. He watched as the Elf's eyes flashed in anger before he nodded holding out his hands. Irvin quickly and expertly put the mirthtril chains on the Elf, chains befitting high value slaves, loose enough to not be too uncomfortable but tight enough for no escape to be made.
Amelia watched tears filling her eyes, that she would not allow to fall. Blinking rapidly her eyes cleared. Legolas looked like a prince. Black leggings molded seamlessly to his legs, and the loose black silk tunic had a small v neck showing smooth pale gold skin, his blonde hair hanging in a smooth curtain down his back. He stood straight up, shoulders back and head rised proudly.
"Goodbye Legolas." She whispered tearfully as the front door closed behind them. A pitter patter of feet suddenly came down the stairs and she turned to see her youngest son, Ibahn. His long wavy red was messy and he was standing in the kitchen doorway watching her with intelligent emerald eyes.
"What's wrong?" He asked and Amelia paused before answering.
"A lot of things, sweetie. Would you like some breakfast?" She asked, moving the conversation to other things. One day she knew her son would see the world for what it really was. One day she would tell her sons and daughters what was wrong. But today she would allow them to keep their innocence. The world would steal it from them soon enough as it is.
Legolas followed Irvin in silence as they walked to the upper levels of Minas Trith. They passed many people, some of who looked at Legolas with pity, others with envy, and a few with thinly veiled disgust. Whether the disgust was for slaves or Legolas himself, he didn't know but he had a feeling it was the latter.
They stopped when the reached the sixth level, in front of a huge door with gaurds standing in front of it.
"Do not speak unless you are spoken to. When the King enters bow low at the waist. When he calls on you, walk forward to the throne, stop fifteen feet away, get on your knees and bow, and do not look the king in the eye before he acknowledges you." Irvin advised, handing over his weapons to the gaurds.
Legolas scowled at what he was supposed to do. He was accustomed to being treated with the utmost respect and he could barely stomach the thought of bowing to a unknown king of Man, who he doubted was worthy of such a display of respect. Disgust coiled in his stomach but he didn't say anything as he was lead to the throne room.
The throne room itself was huge. It was easily the length of a great hall, but it was simply decorated. The walls and pillars were intracticately carved and were made of white stone but that was about it.
People were standing around, waiting patiently for their turn to speak to the absent King. The door opened and people began bowing at the waist. Legolas barely bowed and looked up quickly to see the King.
He was tall but not overly so, and lightly muscled. His hair was a goldish brown and fell elegantly to his shoulders, his face completely hairless. Warm choclate brown eyes were somewhat hidden by low eyelids and thick long eyelashes. He was wearing a purple silk tunic and dark leggings with a black jerkin and boots, a sword hanging low on slender hips. Full pink lips stretched into a warm smile that reached the young man's eyes, showing dimples. The people in the room smiled back, obviously glad to see him.
"That is Prince Faramir." Irvin whispered and Legolas sighed. He had hoped it was the king, but apparently not.
"The King's son?" Legolas questioned and Irvin shook his head.
"His younger brother. Quiet now, here comes the King."
Legolas looked up quickly and felt his heart sink in dismay. The King swept into the room, his strides long and powerful. If Prince Faramir was warm King Boromir was ice. As soon as he entered the room, all conversation stopped and the smiles quickly faded, replaced with blank looks.
The King walked to the throne and stood in front of it, his icy black gaze raking past everyone. Even though they hadn't lingered on Legolas, he felt a chill sweep down his spine and looked at the Man. He was tall, extremely so and heavily muscled, the build of a human warrior. His black hair was tied in a knot at the nape of his neck and a crown made out of mithril was placed upon his head. His face was completely composed and deviod of any emotion.
He motioned to a nearby servant and leaned in, speaking to the man in a low voice. The servant then turned to address the people.
"Your majesty will now hear your cases."
One by one people began speaking about this and that, and though Legolas tried to focus, (it might aid him to know about Gondor's problems) he couldn't focus his mind. The throne room was almost empty when the servant finally came to him.
"Bring forth the slave." Legolas glared at the servant but Irvin elbowed him in his bruise ribs, making Legolas supress a hiss of pain.
"Go." He whispered harshly and Legolas reluctantly walked forward.
Legolas forced the bile down as he lowered himself to the floor and bowed his head. He could hear footsteps and raised his eyes slightly to see the leather boots of the king walking around him. He could feel those cold eyes on him and was better able to understand what Ida meant when she said he was a cold man.
"Rise." The King said in a hard tone. Legolas stood gracefully and stared at the king. He was slightly shorter than the Man, but only just. The king's eyes traveled slowly down his body before looking Legolas in the eye. The king didn't speak, he just stared hard as if he was trying to see inside of Legolas. Legolas glared defiantly at the King.
The King however only looked at him for another second before turning to another man who had been standing calmly on the right side of the throne and nodded.
"I'll take him. Jorvain, send someone to pay the traders. Faramir, would you kindly escort the slave to his new qaurters?"
"Where shall those be?" The prince questioned and the King smiled. It wasn't pleasent. It was cold and cruel, and Legolas felt a sense of foreboding.
"In the seventh level family quarters. The sixth chamber on the left."
"Are you certain that is wise?" the prince asked dubiously and King Boromir laughed, a grating merciless sound, but said nothing else.
The king hadn't looked at him once since he had decided to buy him and Legolas felt his blood boil at the easy dismissal. As Prince Faramir walked over to him he struggled to get his anger under control. It wouldn't help him at present, and he needed to have a clear head to think of a way to escape.
Prince Faramir motioned to him to follow and they walked outside and up to the seventh level. Legolas carefully noted the way they came, and wondered at the other man's silence. A quick glance told him the man was angry. Every now and then a muscle in his jaw would twitch. His strides were long and his body was held tense, reminding Legolas of a wolf about to strike.
They turned sharply onto a wide long corridor and Faramir stopped in front of a door, opening it. It had only one room, slightly bigger than the one Legolas stayed in at Irvin's home. A large four poster bed sat in the middle of the room, and a dresser was lined against the left wall. Three long narrow windows lined west wall of the room, with dark blue curtains.
"This is where you'll be staying. There will be a gaurd posted at the end of this corridor by the time I leave, and it would be wise not to leave this room until you are called for." The prince's voice visibly lacked the earlier warmth and Legolas wondered if he had badly misjudged the young man or since Legolas was now a slave of his brother's he felt it was beneath him to speak kindly to him.
"Have you eaten?" the prince asked and Legolas sat on the bed, nodding. Idly, he wondered if this situation could get any worse.
"The king will most likely recieve you tonight."
Apparently it could get worse. He laid down and looked out the window as the door closed. Legolas tried not to think about what tonight and all the nights after would bring but he couldn't help himself. The wounds were healing but the walk through the city had sorely tried his strength. He hadn't had the chance to stretch or walk around in so long that he was sure some of his muscles had forgotten they worked. He stared out the window watching a distant point on the horizion and almost managed to convince himself that he could see the tops of the trees in Mirkwood from here. With that thought in mind he finally drifted off into an uneasy sleep.