Sitting on the edge of his bed, he absentmindedly twisted his heavy, silver ring around his finger. He was bent over, his elbows resting upon his knees as he stared down at the floor between his bare feet, all the while having his fingers fidgeting with the weighted metal on his finger.

Glancing up when there was a particularly loud snap that came from the fire, he briefly looked at the flames before his sight fell almost automatically to the body curled up comfortably before the fire, the orange glow flickering over them.

He allowed a quiet sigh to come through his nose as he gazed over at her. The elf's eyes were shut as she slumbered, for once, her features peaceful and wrinkle-free while she visited the Land of Dreams. No doubt this was the first time in a long while that she had ever had such good sleeping conditions, even while on the floor yet she had the soft, fur rug that lay underneath her.

She was curled almost into a ball like Thorin had seen her the previous night, a way to conserve body heat in the cold prisons no doubt. Even now, despite the warmth from the fire and the rug, it had evidently just become a habit that her body would never be able to let go of.

His large tunic still hung on her smaller frame and she had cuddled into it slightly, burying into it so that it acted as a improvised blanket.

Ren had fallen asleep awhile ago while the dwarf lord had still been in his chair, puffing away on his pipe as he thought about the day ahead tomorrow. He hadn't really noticed until complete silence filled the air and when he glanced down, he found that she had curled up right at his feet, taking the opportunity of the heat from the fire to have a proper night's sleep while she could. So, he had left her there, not wanting to overstep a boundary and make things seem as though he were forcing himself on her by moving her to his bed. Not to mention that he didn't really want to wake her when she seemed so at peace.

With a sigh, he rose from his bed, hand reaching behind him to fist into one of the various blankets upon his bed. He then crossed the room, the heavy wool fabric now held in both hands. Approaching her, he slowly draped it over body, leaving only her head and hands visible to his eyes. He took special care when making sure that her feet were tucked in, an act he hadn't performed in years after his nephews had matured out of childhood.

A soft noise came from her throat then and the dwarf paused, thinking that she would perhaps wake up but instead, she just shifted, her legs stretching out a bit underneath the covers as her hand curled around the blanket, pulling it slightly more around her so that it came up to rest over her mouth, leaving her nose out so that she could breathe.

The king couldn't help but a let his mouth curl upward slightly at the sight. For it was such a stark contrast to the hardened gladiator from before; this tamed female who slept curled like a house cat.

In her restless state, however, a few strands of long hair had fallen into her face and he had the sudden urge to brush them away, only to restrain himself when he thought better of it. It felt like far to intimate of an act, far to domestic for his liking.

So, after a few more moments of gazing down at the slave, he sighed through his nose and moved back to his own bed where he climbed under the covers and lay his head against his pillow. The last sight he saw before closing his eyes was Ren's slumbering form.

A loud pounding jolted him from his sleep. "My lord!"

His eyes slowly flickered open, his chambers dark, save for the soft orange glow from the embers of the fire.

He took note of the body still lying curled up on the fur rug and how a head slowly rose from where it had been snuggled in the blanket. She sat up slightly, her head turning towards the door and then, as if she felt her eyes upon him, looked to the dwarf who was gazing at her with his own sleep addled irises.

The nearly deafening knocking came once more, startling the both of them, causing their gaze to break from each other as her head whipped back around. "My lord king!"

From his bed, the King watched as his manservant, who must have been putting his master's clothes away in their proper place as he always did in the wee hours of the morning, calmly approached the door. He laid his hand upon the knob and turned back to face the dwarf. Their eyes met for a long moment and the slave just gave a nod of his head.

Anuon slowly cracked open the door so that only a small stream of light could be seen, the beam dancing from the flickering of a lantern, "Yes?"

"I am here to collect my champion."

Thorin watched as the she-elf tensed in place upon recognizing the familiar voice of her Master just outside the door.

"My Master is not decent." The elf replied calmly and Ren simply turned back around to meet the dwarf lord's eyes, wondering what was going on, "Would you please give him a moment?"

There was a quiet rumbling before a quiet, 'I suppose' could be heard before the brunet servant was closing the door with a polite bow of his head.

"Up." The King told her quietly, sliding from the bed as he threw his covers off himself. Instantly, she was on her feet, not even questioning his command, the woolen blanket pulled around her shoulders like a cloak. However, he stopped after a moment before looking to his servant, "Anuon?"

The elf wordlessly pointed at the pile of her things that had been placed upon the table. Wordlessly, he crossed the room and picked up the muzzle that lay on top of the now cleaned and oiled leather before facing the female. He turned it over a few times in his hands as he walked back towards her. His eyes were softened with guilt.

She said nothing as he came towards her but he saw the flash of disappointment dance in her sapphire eyes for a moment. She then nodded her head, silently telling him to just do it and get it over with.

Raising his hands, he carefully replaced the muzzle over her lower face. Then, wordlessly, he pushed his hands deeper into the thick mane that was her hair so that he could secure the buckles once more into place at the back of her skull.

When he allowed his eyes to focus back on her own after he was finished, he found that some strange emotion lay in her eyes... something akin to... fear? No, that couldn't be right. Ren didn't seem to be afraid of anything.

Tilting his head slightly to the side, he raised his hand and cupped her leather-clad cheek, his thumb stroking across the material, knowing that she no doubt didn't want to return to her Master. Not in the slightest if her rough treatment was anything to go by. The risk she had taken with threatening her Master would likely backfire on her. And yet, she had to. For the sake of both her and her companions. Both of them knew that.

"Into the bed." Thorin breathed as he nodded back at piece of furniture, knowing that the she-elf would have heard him because of her sharp hearing.

Following his command without another thought, she turned and the dwarf couldn't help but admire her slightly as she went, again looking rather fitting in his own clothes. He reached out to the stand beside his chair by the fire and picked up the long chain from where it had been placed the previous night.

Sliding beneath the warm furs and blankets, he watched her for a moment as he too hurried back over to the bed, only to yank back the covers and settle in beside her. He could hear her breathing catch in her throat slightly as his large arm came around her, hauling the she-elf up onto his chest so as to put them in a more compromising position.

Clipping the chain back onto her collar, he turned and met her eyes again, holding them for a long moment. "When Borgil comes in, I want you to wait a moment; lie here with me for only a breath. And then you struggle and fight against the collar and chain, do you understand?"

"Yes." Came her slightly muffled reply, her voice sounding odd as it came through the muzzle.

Nodding to her, he licked his lips before he looked across the room to his servant and in return, nodded to him as well. Anuon turned to open the door, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. He hated dealing with the Slaver but he would follow his Master's wishes.

The elf slowly drew the door back to reveal the greasy man who was accompanied by two of his companions. "Good morning, my lord king!"

Borgil strode into the King's chambers, a smirk blooming on his face as he took in the sight in the large bed; his prized fighter nearly wrapped around the dark haired dwarf lord. However, it lasted all but another three seconds before the she-elf was launching from beneath the covers, as if to make a break for it. She was suddenly yanked back by the collar around her throat, a choked gasp escaping her lips as her fingers fisted around the restraint.

The Slavemaster felt his eyebrows raise in interest as he glanced back to find that the King himself held fast to the ring at the end of the chain. He wore a stern look upon his face as the female continued to fight against him, her wide eyes flickering back and forth between the dwarf and her Master.

"It pleases me that you are alive and well, my lord. For I feared that you wouldn't make it through the night." The man said, inclining his head instead of bowing. "I trust you had a promising night as it was, though? She wasn't too much of a handful for you?"

"Not at all." Rising from his bed, Thorin walked towards the elleth and she cringed back from him, as they had planned before. Smirking darkly, he then tugged sharply on the chain, causing her to stumble forward so that she crashed against his chest. Her hands splayed there over his muscled pecks and she couldn't help but stare for a moment, the skin beneath her fingertips so warm. However, she was brought from her thoughts as another strong arm snaked around her waist, drawing her closer so that she was pressed right up against the dwarf. "For you see, anyone, even the wildest of creatures can be tamed so easily."

Maintaining eye contact with the Slaver, he nuzzled into her hair and found her pointed ear, his hot breath trailing over it before he carefully took it between his lips to suck on it. Ren tried to jerk away from him, both from being startled and the not entirely unpleasant heat pooling unexpectedly in her stomach at this new action. However, Thorin held her there, his large hand rising to cup her jaw to restrain her movement.

And Borgil and his men just watched, all three of them shifting slightly in place as their own dark thoughts began to fill their mind at the sight. It hadn't been the first time they'd had them what with Ren and Cel always present as temptations. Yet, they were always off limits, even if the Slaver had come close to breaking his own rule many a time.

"You see?" The dwarf purred, his large hand stroking up the length of her pale neck, causing her to tilt her face upwards slightly, her eyes sliding closed in the process. "Anyone can be broken."

The greasy man merely cleared his throat before smoothing the wrinkles out of his long coat. "It would seem so..." Taking a few steps forward, he held out his hand. "Alas, I am sad to say that your time with her is up," With a sigh of reluctance, the King handed over the ring to the Slaver, "For now, at least." The two males exchanged a knowing smirk. "Unless, you wish to purchase her for another night?"

"Indeed, I do." Raising a hand, Thorin brushed Ren's hair back to reveal her neck, his eyes traveling up and down her form as he admired her. "For I fear that there is still much to do and I am far from finished with her."

"That is quite exciting news to hear, my lord." He beamed back at his two companions, an idea of investment flickering into his head. "I will personally deliver her to your rooms after tonight's fight."

"I shall look forward to it all day." He murmured, his eyes locking with the she-elf's for a long moment before she lowered her head and slowly trudged forward when Borgil yanked on her leash.

"Grand. I am pleased that you enjoyed her, my King, but I must apologize. For we must be off; today is a very busy day for all of us."

"Oh?"

"I've just bought five new slaves with the money you gave me for time with my champion." He gestured to the blonde who stood silently between them. "I'm afraid Ren is going to be very busy with their training."

"You've bought replacements so soon after one of your own has been slain?"

"I am in the slaving and gladiatorial business, my lord." Borgil tugged on the chain again, causing the female to stumble towards him once more.

Raising her head, she found that her gaze landed for a moment on Anuon who gave her a look of remorse when no one was looking. Poor child. He couldn't help but think to himself. You of all people don't deserve such punishment.

One of the other men stepped forward and clasped a pair of shackles around her wrists.

"I have no time to mourn the loss of one of my lower fighters when I can so easily replace them for a lesser price. You learn to not become attached." However, just then, he glanced at Ren out of the corner of his eye and reached out to affectionately stroke her hair, the golden strands soft beneath his fingers. His dark eyes then flickered back to the king. "Well, not too attached at least."

Thorin felt a stab of disgust as well as anger wash through him as he watched Borgil. With much restraint, he was able to keep his lip from curling. It was entirely revolting. "I suppose it certainly makes things easier." He managed to ground out, his own eyes darkening.

"Indeed. Now, if you'll please excuse us, my liege, we must be off."

The group of them turned to leave then with Ren casting a single glance back at the King as she had no choice but to follow. He felt his eyes soften slightly at the sight as he watched her go. However, just before they exited through the door, he decided to speak, "Slaver, wait!"

The greasy man just ducked back into the room so that he could once more meet the eyes of the dwarf lord, "Yes, sire?"

"Tonight, I also request Cel's company." He blurted.

This caused Borgil to pause for a moment, a slight wrinkle in his brow as he looked between his champion and the King. "You want... both of them?"

"I asked for both of them, didn't I?"

At his snappish tone, the Slavemaster shrunk back slightly, having been taken off guard but he nonetheless nodded. "V-Very well, my lord. They will be delivered to your chambers after the fight."

"Excellent." Walking across the room, the dwarf took a tunic off the back of his chair and slipped it over his head. When he realized he still had an audience watching him, he turned his head sharply. "You may leave now."

"Y-Yes, my lord king." Borgil and his men hastily bowed before spinning on their heels and leaving immediately, the she-elf lagging behind them sending him a look of both absolute disbelief and gratitude.

"Anuon?" The King called after they left, having turned back to slowly pace back into his room, his hand running over his chin in thought.

"Yes, my lord?"

"Did you get the measurements and send them to the armor smith like I asked you?"

"Of course, my lord. He said that your request would be done before tonight's battle." The dwarf felt a small smirk twitch at his lips.

"Excellent."

"WHAT IN BLOODY MIDDLE-EARTH IS THIS?!"

All heads turned towards the shout, fear filling their eyes as they watched as their Master raised his voice when the elven messenger placed a parcel in his hands.

Ren herself raised her head from where it had been bowed as she sat upon the cold ground of her cell. She winced slightly as the light from the torches caused her head to pound and she wondered for a moment if there were any bruises blooming on her face or body where she'd been struck.

For it had seemed as though Borgil's anger from the night before hadn't lessened any and in her absence, seemed to have festered further.

Now, after having been placed back in her cell and her ankles shackled to the wall, she had felt Cel's eyes on her the entire time but avoided her cool, green gaze. She didn't want to speak of it at the moment.

"I DIDN'T ORDER THIS FROM ANY SORT OF SMITH!"

"No, you didn't." The messenger, shoved the package back into the Slaver's hands regardless. "But, it's not my problem to deal with. I only run and deliver things when I'm told to do so. If you have further complaints, take it up with King Thorin."

The greasy man opened his mouth to protest once more but the elf simply turned on his heel and left to go finish the rest of his rounds for the day, completely disregarding the circumstance and pushing it from his mind. Now standing alone, the Slavemaster glared after the retreating messenger before looking down at the large package.

Feeling his curiosity getting the better of him, he pulled the string and folded the brown stock paper back and instantly, the shine of metal caught in the torchlight to reflect directly into the champion's eyes, causing her to wince as her head ached once more.

Pulling a slip of parchment from among the wrappings, his eyes narrowed as he read over the neat scrawl. A little insurance for your champion. There will be no repeat of the previous night.

Brow furrowed deeply in confusion, the man reached into the brown paper and withdrew a heavy breastplate. It was simple but still of fine craftsmanship, its surfaced polished enough so that he could see his face reflected back in the silver metal. The inside was padded with heavy cloth to keep from digging into the wearer's ribs and a number of clasps lined the side in order to keep it firmly attached.

And after a moment of admiring it, his head snapped to the side to find that the sh-elf was watching him apprehension.

"Stand up." He growled and walked towards her cell.

She did so slowly so as to avoid another beating, wincing slightly as she straightened out, thinking that perhaps, some of her ribs were bruised. She already knew her lip was split, given that she had tasted blood and at times, continued to do so when she licked her lips.

Unlocking and throwing open the door, he charged in, the armor held tightly in his hands as his eyes blazed with anger.

"Take off the tunic." Beneath the muzzle, she bit her lip to keep from visibly wincing as she carefully began to worm the tunic off her, her new wounds screaming at her to cease moving. Halfway through the slow-going process, the Slaver grew tired of waiting and ripped it the rest of the way over her head.

Her hands instantly shot to wrap around her body, the cold air of the dungeons assaulting her bare skin and provided no relief against the soreness in her ribs. One of her hands rose in an attempt to conceal her modesty somewhat, the binder there already doing so but she had never liked the feel of her Master's eyes as they feasted over her bared flesh in the past.

Tossing her shirt across the cell, he stepped forward after admiring her and pulled her arm from over her breasts so that he could lift the armor over her head to allow it to rest upon her shoulders. He then set to work forcing the sides closed closed so that he could clip the latches shut, completely disregarding any sort of positive or negative reaction the she-elf was having.

Luckily, she was having neither really, instead wondering what this was for and who it was from. Though, she really could hazard a guess as to who had sent it.

Fastening the last clasp in place, the Slavemaster took a step back to examine his work. And if he wasn't angry before, he was near livid now once he realized that the armor fit like a glove. It hugged her torso like it was a second skin.

"Who is this from?" She asked quietly as he continued to scrutinize it.

His eyes rose to meet hers for a long moment and she saw the dark spark of irritation lingering there. "The King."

Her eyes widened upon hearing his answer and she couldn't help it when her eyes darted across the room to find the green eyes of Cel who looked just as shocked as she felt.

"I should really just sell this back to the smith for the coin the dwarf bastard spent on it." Borgil grumbled low to himself in Westron, rubbing his chin in thought. "Though I suppose he'd be really displeased if you didn't show up to the fight in it. And then I'd been in heaps of trouble..." Looking the she-elf in the face for a moment, he then curled his lip up in a snarl and stalked out of the cell, slamming the door shut as he went. He was about to leave the corridor completely but spun on his heel at the last moment, his eyes focusing on Ren as he jabbed a finger in her direction. "You best fight well tonight what with a pretty new piece of armor like that. You continue to impress the King, life becomes easier for you."

He then left, leaving a fuming fighter in his wake.

Exchanging one more look with Cel, the she-elf's hands curled into tight fists and she inhaled deeply, finding that she could do so easily in this new armor. It had been a long time since she had worn such armor as this, years of battle long ago filtering back into her mind.

And then, bitterness and hatred were lingering in her own heart as she glared at the door where he last stood.

In all her years with him, she hadn't acted out but on the rare occasion when he'd been exceptionally cruel to them. Had kept in line like the rest of them, doing as their Master bade without a question in hopes of protecting both herself and the others.

But ,now though... with both this new armor and the favor of the King on her side, she could perhaps step out of the line she was forced to stand in and do something worthy of remembrance.

There was excitement in the air.

She could feel it by the way the arena above her shook as the dwarves yelled and stomped as the battle beyond the wall ensued, causing tendrils of dust to drift down from the stone ceiling.

She was the only one left in the cells at the moment, eyes darkened once more with charcoal and the rest of her face was marked up as well but she couldn't see the work that had been done. All she knew is that it felt like there was a mark across her nose connecting the space between her darkened eyes and that there were three vertical lines as well running the length of her face and onto the muzzle. The metal from her armor flickered in the low torchlight as she sat now on the ground, her gauntlets cinched tightly around her wrists. She'd been given a new red, tattered cloth to use as her skirt, the old one tossed into the fire in Borgil's chambers after having been stained with Mal's blood.

Her hands toyed with one another absentmindedly as she listened to the screeches of the orcs in the arena, as well as the struggling grunts of her companions as they fought back.

Fear wrapped its icy hand around her heart and constricted tightly, feeling her eyes water as the images of the younger elleth's death played before her eyes. And she did not want to see that again but instead of Mal, it would be another of her companions' faces.

She raised her eyes to the ceiling above and shifted forward so that she was now upon her knees instead of her rear. Then, bending over, she placed her palms upon the cold stone floor as she lowered her forehead to rest between them in an act of absolute submissiveness.

It had been so long since she had prayed to her Gods, for she had so long ago given up any semblance of hope that had ever lingered in her heart.

In the beginning, she had prayed often, nearly every free moment she had to herself after the slavers left her alone. She had asked the Valar to help her and Cel escape, to be free of the torment in their lives now. To walk free once more without having their wrists and ankles bound in shackles. And as time wore on, she soon began to wish for her Master's death, suddenly becoming so much more selfish that she hoped for the demise of the cruel man.

However, after days upon days of praying, she began to feel the flame of hope diminish. Months had gone by and without hearing a single word from her Gods or having any sort of relief from this new torture, she began to lose faith until she had given it up entirely one day. For how does faith even linger if there never is an answer to your prayers?

But, now... now she prayed. She prayed for the others to be safe and to stay out of harm's way. She asked Them to help guide her in her actions, to give her the strength and courage to protect them as well as herself. She asked that she would defeat anything that stood in her path. And finally, she asked that Borgil be killed.

It was only a half moment later that the wide door to the dungeons were thrown open and in filed the troop of other elven fighters, all of whom looked exhausted beyond belief and covered in a fair amount of blood, some of it black and some of it red.

Ren was instantly sitting back up so that she remained kneeling on the ground, her eyes scanning each one of them, finding that none of them looked too worse for wear despite a few minor injuries like a cut on an arm, a gash above an eye, or a bloodied lip.

They all obediently went into their respectable cells without so much as a fuss, the other blonde fighter entering into the one next to Ren's own. Luckily Cel only seemed to have black carnage staining her clothing and when the other she-elf felt eyes upon her, she turned her own green eyes to her companion.

"Is everyone okay?" Ren asked her quietly, eyes flickering quickly back to the doorway as Borgil came marching into the corridor from the opposite direction of the arena, evidently coming from the King's balcony where he always seemed to stand.

"Get up." He growled at her and she complied, struggling slightly against the shackles around her ankles but he quickly took care of that problem after unlocking them.

Picking up her chain where it was discarded upon the ground, it clanked upon the new metal of her armor and she obediently followed behind him when he tugged. However, he was suddenly snapping it forward, forcing her out into the tunnel ahead of him. Then Slaver was suddenly unhooking the ring from the end of the leash before a bared, metal gate fell down behind her, cutting her off from the dungeons and closing her in between two barriers, the other end leading out to the arena blocked off as well.

The she-elf turned to gaze back at him for a moment before he was gesturing to his men to move towards one of the cells. Ren watched as the first man opened the heavy door that led to Cel's and she felt horror bloom in her chest as he reached for the blonde she-elf who shrunk back from him and his companion.

"What are you doing?" The champion asked, her eyes widening with panic as the two men grabbed at the other blonde and roughly forced a pair of shackles upon her wrist as she struggled against them. Borgil said nothing, just stood on the other sides of the bars with a smirk curling the corners of his mouth, looking all the world pleased with himself. "What are you doing? Let her go!" She repeated her question, dread blooming in her eyes as she lunged forward, her hands wrapping around the heavy metal as she pressed herself against them.

"Ren!" The other elleth continued to fight as she called out to her companion.

"Cel!" She returned the cry, struggling against the bars as she rattled them in hopes of somehow breaking them loose. However, it was all for naught and despite the struggle to be had, the two men began to move down the hall, the other female writhing in their arms the entire time in hopes of freeing herself, her grunts of struggle filling the air as the other slaves watched helplessly in their own cages. "Where are you taking her?"

Again, he failed to respond and the smirk grew into a devious grin. Stilling for a moment, she felt her blood boil in absolute rage and Ren lunged once more, her hand nearly touching the man as she lashed out at his face. He remained mostly unfazed and again remained silent before turning away from her, taking his time to leisurely walk down the hall behind his men.

"I swear to the Gods, if you hurt her, I will kill you myself, you smarmy bastard!" She shouted after him, watching his form retreat into the shadowed corridor. In her frustration, she rattled the bars once more, her chest heaving from yelling as the inferno of rage began to consume her.

Her heart pounded loudly in her ears and almost instantly, her entire being felt alive from both the fear and stress.

And then suddenly, drums were being played and the murmuring of the audience from before grew quiet. The female herself fell silent, holding her breath to steady her breathing as the pounding continued. It just continued to get faster and faster until finally they ceased all at once, a pregnant silence filling the air.

It seemed as though everyone was waiting with baited breath and finally, a resounding voice cut through the quiet.

"Good evening my good dwarrowfolk!" It was Borgil, she realized, easily recognizing his annoying voice. "Tonight, we have a very special event in celebration of Prince Kili's Birthday!" There was a moment of pause and the crowd began to clap and cheer for the young dwarf.

Was he the blonde one or the dark haired one? She couldn't quite remember- Wait. He had been the one to speak to her in elvish the time she was visiting with the King. Hello. My name is Kili. It had been the dark haired one with the dark eyes. A stark contrast to his fair brother.

"You have seen an assortment of creatures thus far! Orcs, goblins, wargs... But what have you yet to see? Again, we have a very special surprise for all of you and I hope you thoroughly enjoy it! Happy Birthday, my lord!"

There was another round of applause and cheer and before she could hardly react, the front gate leading out to the arena was opened, the grate sliding up into the ceiling to set her free. Or about as free as she could be in 10 years.

Straightening out her back, she steeled herself for whatever was to come and for a moment, she was deadly calm. Borgil was going too far, tugging too hard on her heart and toying with her and she was becoming extremely tired of it.

Clenching her fists tightly once more, she picked up the chain in her palm and began to wind it around her neck like she always did before a fight. She then began to walk out into the arena, her boots sinking into the soft sand underfoot. She strode out into the lightened arena without so much as a beat of hesitation, her body alight with rage and fire and her wrath.

Almost instantaneously, there was a loud wave of cheers as she emerged into view and the she-elf allowed herself to be hardened once more. And just as before, as she always had, she marched towards the King's balcony, ignoring all else around her. Her eyes raised themselves up in hopes of finding the royals and she easily did.

His majesty was seated in his usual place, Lord Dain on his right side and the two princes on the other. All three Durins bore crowns this evening and were dressed finer than usual, no doubt due to it being the first night in celebrating the Prince's day.

No wonder they had stayed in Erebor so long. Only a few days after the reclaiming of the mountain, it was the youngest Durin's birthday so it was entirely reasonable that their stay had been extended. How convenient.

He was looking at her, the King, and she glared up, defiant as ever, partially because of the act and part of it being because of the fury she was currently feeling. And he was smirking slightly right back at her as he rested his chin in his palm, expectant as he always seemed to be of her. And he appeared to be very pleased that she bore the armor he'd had made for her.

However, as she allowed her eyes to drift further along the balcony, she found her Master up there as well. Her lips pulled back in a rage-filled snarl beneath the muzzle upon her face. If only it could have been seen and she would have truly been a most terrifying sight to behold.

His dark gaze flickered to the right and she followed his line of sight and what she saw made her freeze. She wasn't entirely sure of she felt relieved or even angrier.

On Prince Kili's lap, sat Cel, her hand still shackled and her green eyes watching her from above. And then she understood. A birthday gift for the young lad.

Ren nearly swore out loud she was so enraged.

To be fair, he himself looked a bit uncomfortable, fidgeting slightly under her as he placed a hand on her back to help steady her as she balanced herself. His other hand rested carefully on her knee while he watched Ren down below. He did, however, look entirely pleased with the situation, no doubt eager for the fight promised as well as having a beautiful woman seated on his lap.

What surprised her the most, though, was when she found that his own servant, Haldir was standing behind his seat, his own blue eyes watching her carefully as he too stood with his hands behind his back, ready to serve his Master when he was bade to.

Cheeky bastard. Ren thought to herself as she held his gaze. How he ever got here and serving the royals no less, I'll never know.

Sighing heavily through her nose in an effort to calm herself, she closed her eyes for a moment before slowly reopening them. "Weapons?" She called out, looking up to her Master once more, opening her arms to show that she had nothing of the sort on her. And if there was a fight to be had, she needed something that she could kill with.

He did not respond for a long moment and instead stood looking completely smug, his hands behind his back.

Ren allowed her eyes to briefly flicker to the other blonde she-elf and found that she was now gripping tightly to the fabric of her own trousers, her eyes full of worry but at the same time, were pleading her to comply with whatever Borgil wanted.

And when she met his dark eyes once more, she saw it. Beg for it.

Regarding the situation that she was in and realizing that she was now in no position to misbehave as she normally planned, she really had no choice but to comply with what he wished.

So, with indignation shinning in her sapphire eyes, she slowly sunk to the ground, her knees burying themselves into the soft sand. "Weapons... please... Master." After a moment, he still did nothing and she felt her right eye twitch in annoyance. Raising her arms up and opening her palms toward him, she tried again, "Please, Master. I ask that you give me weapons so that I may please our lords."

There wasn't a sound in the room after she said that so when Borgil nodded his head to someone across the room, the drums pierced the silence once more, startling everyone a bit as they thundered once more.

There was the grinding of gears as the door on the other side of the arena and the rumbling pounding continued. It was only a breath later that she felt it. The vibrations in the ground traveled up her knees and seemed to shock her to her core.

She couldn't help it when her eyes widened when the ungodly roar came from the blackness, each footstep causing the arena floor to tremble beneath it. Ren didn't need to turn to know what beast she was to fight on this night.

"Please, Master Borgil. Give me weapons!" She was a little more panicked this time, her fear starting to get the better of her. There was another loud roar and she jumped. "Please, Master! I beg of you!"

When he did nothing, she had no choice but to rise to her feet, aware that the beastly brute could come at her any minute. The hatred from before was reborn once more and thrived alongside the fear she was feeling, setting her entire body alight with energy. Energy she would need desperately if she were to stay alive.

The ground shook once more and the dwarves on the other side of the arena gasped with horror at what emerged from the holding cell.

Ren allowed her eyes to quickly flicker back to the King's for a moment but his cool gaze darted away as he sat up in his seat to the monster that had just been unleashed. For he too looked a bit shaken when he caught sight of the beast.

She spun back around, her hair twirling around her and she could only swallow thickly as her eyes fell upon the huge mountain troll that lumbered into the arena towards her.

Wow. I'm so sorry an update for this took so long guys! I've been busy elsewhere with the actual TYM chapters and have kind of pushed this AU collection to the back-burner for a bit. I might actually get more writing done for them now, seeing as how I'm awaiting the release of BotFA EE before I go much further in TYM.

Still, I missed writing this story and figured that it was about time to update it! I hope you guys enjoy!

Love,

Blue