Hi, so to all LOTR fans I just want to say I am not well versed in the story outside of the movies, so please do not get mad at anything wrong I have about this world, just tell me and I will do my best to fix it. Thank you.

12 years pass by

"Alright lads, last item up for bid," yelled the auctioneer. In the underground slave trade, the many masters were all sitting and enjoying the view of the new item up for sale: an elf. Not just any elf, as the auctioneer announced, but one of royal blood. The elf was a boy, easily mistaken for a small breasted girl, with white hair and chocolate brown eyes. He was trussed in golden silk ties to a gurney being held by two trolls. His hair style and finery revealed the truth of his lineage and the bidding commenced.

"15000 draculs!"

"17000 draculs!"

"25000 draculs!"

The auctioneer kept bringing the bid higher, plotting to get to one million for this prize. The elf on the gurney started to blink as the drug wore off. At quarter of a million draculs, he was aware that the nightmare he suffered from the previous night had been real. He lowered his head and resided to his fate.

"Half his weight in gold," said a smooth, masculine voice. The crowd went silent as every head turned to the man in the back, dressed finely in robes of cotton and with a bag of gold as his heel; next to him stood a hooded slave who had his bare feet out in the cold.

"Tha.." the auctioneer was stunned. "Sold! A thousand times over."

The elf was wheeled to his new owner, shivering at the sight of the man. He was huge with a long red beard and cold eyes, like his sister's dolls. The man gave the gold to the trolls and told them to release his new slave. The elf was unstrapped and pushed to his master. The master leered at him and chuckled. He directed the elf to follow, the short slave grabbing his hand. The elf, as he was being put to his fate, was astonished at the softness of the hand holding him. He felt protectiveness in the small one's hand and warmth he had not felt in ages.

He wanted to cry from the sheer love that the small one was giving, but instead squeezed hi hand.

"I am Dicho, your new owner," Dicho said as he locked the elf in chains. The wagons Dicho owned were two regular ones and a steel caged contraption for his slaves. "And beautiful one, what is your name?"

The elf was quiet not wanting to give himself away so easily. That changed as Dicho lifted his shirt and drew a blade along his stomach.

"I suggest you tell me, or your price goes down at the next sale." He emphasized this by putting pressure on the blade, drawing blood.

"Ryou! Of the Red Wood Elves. Please, take the blade away."

Dicho did, with a satisfactory smirk on his face. He left the wagon. Ryou's breaths came out ragged as he knew he was still bleeding. He was in a daze as he looked to his left to see two more slaves. They had watched the exchange as a normal occurrence, having been through it before, with deeper wounds. Both human, a woman with mousy brown hair, and kind blue eyes; the other was a boy, as Ryou could tell, near his age, with blond messy hair and deep brown eyes, almost black. The way he stared at Ryou reminded him of a dog watching its trespasser. He was one of them, nothing more than to be bought and sold as the master wished. Used for any tasks…any tasks.

Ryou felt a jolt of panic wind through at the thought of being on his back for the rest of his life. He saw the way those men stared. Dicho did too, but he was not interested, Ryou hoped.

Someone came in; the small one from before. Ryou watched him as he handed food to the other two. Then he knelt down in front of the blond and examined his leg and that is when Ryou noticed he was bandaged.

"Joey, I told you not to scratch at it," said the small one. Ryou was yet again astonished, his voice was like the purest bells made by the Rivendell elves of old.

"Ah, psh, wat dote it matta? Dicko ova dere gunna can me," Joey argued.

"Don't say that," said the small one. He replaced the bandages with clean ones.

"He's right," said the woman. She tried to straighten her hair with her fingers. "Dicho's going to sell us soon and I need to look presentable for my next master." She stopped her voice monotone.

The small one sighed heavily. He then turned to Ryou. Ryou could not see through that accursed hood. He wanted to see this being which made him feel safe and had a heavenly voice.

"Don't worry, I have food for you too," the small one said, finishing the bandages. "Joey, please no more scratching," the small one pleaded.

"Shur, Ima keep ma hands here," he relented, placing his hands on his food.

The small one nodded and took the last of the food to Ryou. Ryou looked at the food offered to him. Stale bread and some dried fruit, he ate it gratefully. The small one did not speak nor introduce himself, but that was fine it gave Ryou chance to observe this being. He noticed his feet were bare in this early spring, although he seemed warm in his cloak and pants. Ryou stared at the feet. They were quite large for someone so small and his toes were slightly hairy with black curly hair. Ryou's eyes wandered elsewhere to the small one; he had a delicate frame, like Ryou, but he was undoubtedly a boy by his build and narrow hips. Also, not even the most flat chested could have a breast that small unless she bind them and Ryou knew the small one had no womanly breasts. He was dressed in the same fine material as the master, short of being a few years old as the master's was new. The small one was pale as Ryou saw and he had manicured fingernails.

"That's odd," Ryou said.

"What is?"

He jolted at hearing the bells again. "Sorry, I meant no offense," Ryou said, stammering for a diversion. "Uh…what's your name?"

"Yugi," said the being.

"Oh," Ryou was relieved.

"What's odd about me?"

Ryou tensed but decided he had been caught. "Your fingernails are manicured," he said pointing, "and it's…strange that a slave master would pay for that."

Yugi was silent. He stood and took Ryou's remains and picked up the dirty bandages. Joey had a wild look in his eyes as the woman gave him a cold aura. He did not understand.

Yugi hopped out of the wagon and locked the gate. "See you in the morning," he said.

"Dats why I don't keer fer elf-folk. Dey git in business not fer dem," said Joey coldly.

"Wh-what have I done?" Ryou said, cowering in his side of the wagon, praying the dog would not kick him.

"Isn't obvious Princeling," said the woman. "We're in here and Yugi is out there, dressed in finery and fed better. He is the master's favorite," she spat.

Just then, Ryou had a surge of anger go through him. The master used Yugi, as if he was nothing. He started to shake, not with fear, but fury. He hardly knew this strange being and yet he urged to protect him, as he did Ryou walking out of the auction and feeding him.

"Look, ya fool, wese gots a plan out, and youse not su'pos ta be here, so be quiet like and alls go good, got it?" Joey said, staring at him.

Ryou nodded. He then looked to the woman. She nodded, point to the chains and pulling hers a bit apart. Ryou understood. Perfectly. He was in the middle of a plan to escape.

One month earlier

Yugi was drained of energy. The master had gone so hard that night. His gait faltered from the pain and the warm liquid of blood trickled down his pant leg. Tea saw it and gasped. She grabbed Yugi and allowed him to cry on her.

"We have to leave," she said. "If not for us then for him, Joey; at this rate, Dicho will kill him."

"Ima gonna kill dat bastard foist," Joey fumed, but felt the restraint of his collar.

"Escape…"

It was a wisp of voice that was gone in a moment, but both Joey and Tea heard. And thus a plan to escape the master for asylum in the outlands was formed by the three slaves.