Unlikely Rescue

Chapter 1 - Chains

Ok everyone, so this is my first ever fan fiction so apologies if it's rubbish! I hope some people actually read this and enjoy! Any comments and corrections would be greatly appreciated.

A sharp slap to the face jerked Legolas back to reality.

"Are you even listening to me boy?"

"Yes sir, I-I'm sorry, I-" His voice trailed off at the stern, angry expression on his father's face. I can't do this any more... the prince had been living with the daily beatings every day for the 104 years he had been graced with the misery of life in Arda. I have to do this. I deserve it for killing Naneth.

In truth the young elf had been trying to detach his mind from the pain in his body, but Thranduil's mood today was even worse than usual. And admitting that he had not been paying attention to the cruel words was not a wise move on the best of days. Something, obviously, had not gone to plan in the latest council meeting and, as always, Legolas would take the brunt of his anger.

Backing up under the vicious slaps until his back touched the stone wall of the cell, the elf closed his eyes, knowing what was coming next. He wasn't blind, despite being kept in this cell all his life. He'd seen the barbed whip the king had brought with him, watched in fear as he leaned it carefully against the doorframe. It was only on the worst days that Thranduil bothered with such instruments; usually it was his belt and sometimes, and on these days Legolas counted himself lucky, he would merely use his hands until his anger and grief had been released for the day.

Even with hands though, Legolas thought ruefully as a particularly well-aimed blow caught him in the mouth, with his father's many rings and bracelets, he was often left bruised and bloody nonetheless.

Thranduil paused momentarily, surveying the damage done to his son's face. His nose was bleeding freely and there was blood at the corner of his mouth. Bruises were forming all the way up one cheek and there were signs of a potential black eye. The king smiled in satisfaction at the fact that Legolas made no attempt to stop the abuse, or the bleeding that followed. He had learnt by now that that only made it worse.

Still, Thranduil had not obtained as much as he desired from Esgaroth and the price of the wine that was brought from Dorwinion had increased. Not to mention the fact that one of his council members had unwisely mentioned his wife, bringing back all the grief and anger of her passing.

Why had he and Melithan ever decided to have a child? That wretch before him was not worth the life of his only love, his melethril. But she had wanted it so much that he had agreed to try. He could still remember the joy in her eyes when she discovered she was going to be a mother. But she never got the chance. Her own son had killed her. He was a murderer; he didn't deserve her as a mother. He never would. Which was exactly why he was now going to be punished. Severely.

"Take off your tunic."

The boy didn't hesitate to obey; Thranduil would pick up on any hesitation, any weakness, and double the punishment. Legolas knew his worth and it was next to nothing.

Removing his tunic, he turned, exposing his bare back to the king's wrath. Choking on tears which he knew he couldn't allow to fall, he waited. He heard the soft swish of the whip and the pain of blindly waiting for a blow to fall was too much.

"Ada, please, I'm sorry that Naneth is dead, I'm sorry, but please, please don't-"

He was cut off by the booming, angry voice of the king. "ADA? How DARE you call me that? Did I give you permission to speak to me in such a way?" Any attempt to reply was quickly shut down as Thranduil continued, "Do NOT cut me off! Have I not taught you that you are worthless? You are not my son; I HAVE no son! You do not deserve a father, or a mother. She would have been disappointed!"

Legolas flinched away from the sharp words, but his father grabbed him by the throat and pinned him firmly against the wall, blocking off his airway and making him writhe and twist in the strong grip.

"You are nothing but a worthless, evil MURDERER!"

Thranduil withdrew his hand as though repulsed by the presence of the young elf. Legolas dropped to his knees, hands grasping his red, raw neck and eyes filling with uncontrollable tears. He could deal with this most days, but when he was reminded of that particular truth... it was too much. Murderer. The word rang through his mind and refused to leave him alone all throughout the cruel lashings of his father. The whip left him reeling from blood loss and pain, but what stung the most was the king's last words to his son before he left, slamming the door forcefully behind him.

"You're never getting out, monster. Killer. You're mine, MINE, and you will never escape. See you again tomorrow, and try to remember your lessons better, or today's punishments will seem like child's play compared to what I do to you then. Dream well, murderer. Remember that you deserve it."

Ok, so I hope you enjoyed this! Also, if anyone has any ideas for a better story name, please comment it! You can use the description to think of one; it's basically the main points of the story. Thank you :)

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