Chapter 7 - Visitor

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Thank you EstelElfstone and Jaya-Avendel for the comments and votes! Also dobblewolf for commenting! Enjoy this chapter :)

Thranduil stood over a young elfling, the equivalent of five years old. In one hand he held the shoulder of the child's tunic, which he hadn't even bothered to remove, and in the other a cruel whip. It was long and wiry, and from the wickedly pointed end, blood dripped steadily into an ever-largening pool on the cell's stone floor.

The elfling was weeping, crying out for the King to stop, to relent the continuous whipping, but his words fell on deaf ears.

Thranduil wouldn't listen; he was too caught up in his own angered ramblings to even hear the child's words.

"You murdering, worthless, disgusting excuse for an elf! You deserve everything, everything you get, do you understand?"

At the boy's nod, he continued, but paused when the elfling tried to shrink away from the abuse.

"How dare you? You never, NEVER try to stop these perfectly acceptable punishments! How dare you even think of trying to avoid your due? You will not do it again or you WILL pay!"

The elfling nodded, shaking all over, and, exhausted both physically from the pain and mentally from the torture of his mind, fell unconscious onto the cold floor of the cell.

Legolas Greenleaf awoke in a jolt on that same floor of that same cell. It was not often that his dreams were haunted with flashbacks, but when they were, the horrors of the past seemed so real...

This particular memory was a somewhat common visitor to his mind at night recently. The memory of the first time Thranduil had used a whip against him often came back to him on the rare occasions that the king used the same instrument again. It was torture to relive that pain at night as well as day. But torture was what murderers deserved, was it not?

Legolas was about to roll over and try to sleep once more when he caught sight of something - no, someone, outside the barred window in the cell door. He kept very still, thoughts immediately flashing to his father visiting, but this was not his father.

This greatly confused the young elf. He couldn't properly remember the last time he had seen another being other than the King. Who was this?

Terrified and yet curious at the same time, Legolas peered up at the figure. Piercing silver eyes stared back and the elfling immediately averted his gaze, knowing from experience the kind of punishments disrespect, even accidental, would bring.

When he dared to glance back up, the silver-eyed being was no longer staring at him. Cautiously, Legolas took in dark, shoulder-length hair which looked distinctly - un-elflike, he thought, for want of a better word. The being was, however, similar in height to an elf. Not a dwarf then. Legolas thought. His suspicions were confirmed when that strangely un-elflike hair shifted and the elfling took in rounded ears. Rounded! He must be a human.

Legolas gulped. He had encountered several humans before, and non of those experiences had been pleasant.  Most had left him bruised and aching. Anyone, human or no, who knew his father was bound to be unpleasant, after all.

Looking down for fear of being rude, Legolas contemplated these thoughts for a moment. Perhaps this human had come to hurt him like the others. That was probably it. He was just a little toy to the humans, something that could be broken and hurt and wouldn't fight back. Just what they all loved.

Glancing up fearfully, Legolas was shocked to see - nothing. The human had vanished.

After holding his breath for several more seconds, Legolas assured himself that the man was really gone. Perhaps he would come back later to have his fun with the elfling. The thought was not appealing.

At least something had happened which was not part of his usual routine. And even that brought back a tiny spark of hope. Just enough to reignite the small flame within him, which until now had completely gone out. Maybe, just maybe, this human was different.

Maybe he wouldn't hurt the elfling.

Maybe.

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