{}«Legolas' POV»{}

I am moving, but not on my own. Something has a hold of me. My head pounds as I slowly regain my senses. What happened? Where am I? My feet drag across the rough ground. Glancing up I see two Orcs. Each of them holding one of my arms.

I wait to move until we go around a dark corner and jump up. I kick the legs out from under one of them, he falls and I and strike the other with my fist. It releases my hand and I snap its neck. It falls dead as the first one regains its footing. We began to circle, the Orc twirls his sword and licks the blade. I reached for my knife only to find it missing. Of course they took them away immediately.

To try to reach for the dead Orc's blade could be perilous. But with no other choice, I dive for it and grab it in time to block the blade that comes down on me. The force pins me to the ground. I hold it at bay for a moment and then roll out of the way. The Orc to stumbles forward and I run the blade into its back and through its chest.

But before I can pull the blade from the corps, pain shoots across the back of my shoulder and I release the hilt. I start to turn around only to be met with a blade at my neck.

"Found somethin' boys!" An Orc shouts, and more of them appear. My heart races. They begin to circle. I have no weapons.

"An elf? What is an elf doing so far under the earth?"

"Who cares!?" One shouts. "I say we have some fun with it!" The others shout in agreement and they jerk my arms behind me, tying them with what feels like wire. The movement shots pain through my shoulder.

"Bind his legs too!" Another bellows, "This one ain't gettin' away on my watch!"

Arms and legs bound, I'm dragged through the hallway and thrown down stairs. My ribs shift unnaturally followed by searing pain. They continue to drag me for a few minutes before I'm again thrown to the ground. I land on my stomach, ribs screaming in protest. The beating starts. Blow after blow comes. I am utterly defenseless. Then one of them picks up a knife. "I know how to make this one beg for mercy."

They pull me up and pin me against the wall. He starts to play with it while others held me up. I struggle to fight back, but to no avail. Ripping my sleeve off, he traces the blade over my skin, slowly applying more pressure. It digs into my arm. Blood runs down and spills onto the floor. A fiery sensation starts to burn in as I feel the hot blood trickle down my skin. I refuse to echo a sound. I will not give these beings that satisfaction.

A bright orange light appears and the Orc rips the knife from my flesh.

"Well maybe this will remind you how to speak!" He said. Another Orc hands him the blazing torch and he waves the light in front of me. Slowly, he brings it closer to my face. I wouldn't let myself move. I will take this like the warrior I have been trained to be. One that could withstand high levels of agony. But as the fire begins to scorch my skin, I scream, reflexes taking over as I fight away from it.

The Orc pulls the flaming stick away. "So, the elf can speak." He said, and punches the burned skin. Laughter erupts. My vision starts to blur. I wait to blackout. Wait for oblivion to take away this pain for a while. Black specks form in my vision. A shout goes up and the Orcs release their grip. I crumple to the floor with a groan as my world goes dark.

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My head pounds and I shiver as a chill comes over me. I collide with the cold stone floor as the Orc releases it's hold. The door slams shut. Several minutes pass before I realize I'm not the only one here.

"D-don't come any closer!" A voice calls from the back of the cell. It's a woman's voice and it sounds familiar. I slowly start to move closer, my body protesting every move.

"Who are y-you?" I ask when I can move no further. I hear someone move and they step into the faint light.

"Arwen?"

"Legolas? Is that you?" She asks but doesn't wait for an answer before helping me lean against the wall. "What have they done to you?!"

I don't answer her question as renewed pain shoots through me when she lifts my blood coated arm. Tearing off the hem of her dress, she wraps it, covering the laceration that still oozes blood.

"Goheno nin that's all I can do for now." She said, "I have nothing for your burns or bruises."

"Hannon le." I offer her a slight smile.

"How did you get here?" She asks, and I tell her all I can remember. From going through a dark hallway with Aragorn and then waking up in the hands of Orcs –I shutter at the memory— and then waking up here.

"What are we to do?" She sobs when I finish my story.

I pull her close the best I can. "Shhh, it will all be okay. I promise." Why did I promise her that? I don't even remember how I got here.

Arwen eventually falls asleep on my good shoulder after I told her all I can remember up until Aragorn and I entered the mountain.

Hours pass before I finally let myself drift off into an uneasy sleep.

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I wake to a sharp pain in my chest. I jolt and double over, waiting for breath to return to my lungs. Arwen lets out a scream as an Orc jerks me to my feet. It pushes me out the door and I stumble, struggling to keep my footing. The Orc doesn't say a word. He only laughs a low, malevolent laugh as he leads me through several dark hallways and up a flight of stairs. Upon reaching the top, two tall wooden doors start to open.

My stomach churns. Every bone in my body begs for me to fight or run. But for as much as I want too, it is impossible. We have been joined by several more Orcs and now two of them grip my shoulders. The rest are positioned around the area. The doors open revealing a large room. The walls and floor are made of stone like much of this place. A round fireplace is positioned at the center. A burning fire dances within it. Directly behind it is an elevated chair, which could be considered a throne. A figure draped in black sits upon it. He stands as we enter.

"Welcome! Legolas Thranduilion, to the ancient mines of Moria." He said gesturing to the room. His voice is deep. I'm led in front of him and my knees are kicked from behind and I fall.

I keep my voice low to match his. "Who are you? And how do you know my name?" He laughs and I glare up at him.

"Do you not remember me? Well, perhaps you don't. You were young after all. But tell me, do you remember your Naneth?"

My blood boils at the mention of my mother. She was killed when I was young. I don't remember her, and adar rarely speaks of her, not wanting to relive the pain of losing her. My thoughts are interrupted when the figure walks down the steps and stands directly in front of me.

"What did they tell you? That she was killed in an Orc raid? And what of me? What did Adar tell you about me? Or perhaps he failed to mention me at all." He removes his hood revealing not an Orc or even a man, but an elf. His golden hair is pulled tightly back, away from his pale face.

"Do you still not know me brother?" He asks looking down at me. 

I return his gaze. "Tell me who you really are." A hard punch hits my nose. Blood drips onto the floor.

"I told you!" He shouts in rage. "I am your brother!"

"You lie!" I spat, blood pounding in my ears at the lies this elf has the nerve to utter. "I have no siblings!"

"But I speak the truth." He says, his demeanor becoming calmer. "Our naneth wasn't the only one there when the Orcs attacked. I tried to fight them off but Orcs are strong. Stronger than you realize little brother..." His voice trails off as if pondering his own words before continuing. "She didn't dye at the attack. She was captured and tortured, and I with her." 

He took a step back and walked to the fire pit. "Have you ever felt pain?" He picked up a stick that was not fully in the fire. "For months, they hurt her until she finally gave up, hanging from the ceiling, unable to take it any longer. And for centuries they tortured me. Tortured! And for longer than I should have, I held out hope that someone would save me from the torment." He walks back over to me holding the flaming wood.

One of the Orcs grabs my hair and yanks it back. I force myself not to look at what the elf in front of me holds in his scarred hand. "Why attack my people? What have they to do with your suffering?" He doesn't answer and I continue. "What do you want from me?"

"No, not you Legolas, I want our Adar." He answers. "I waited for him to pull me from their grasp. But he never came. He let me be torn apart." --his voice raises, almost to a shout-- "He allowed for us to be burned and beaten! He let her die!" The flame is inches from my face. It burns my already blistered skin and I bite my tongue to hold back a scream, but I cannot and my voice sounds throughout the room. I can't fight away from it no matter how hard I try, it follows me. Suddenly he pulls it back and my head drops and I don't have the strength, or the will, to look up.

"That was only a taste of what it feels like." He tosses the stick back into the fire. "Take him away." He said looking at the Orcs restraining me. "I believe you have earned a little more fun."

Translations:

Goheno nin: Forgive me.

Hannon le: Thank you.