Legolas didn't remember falling asleep. But he was awoken when he felt someone taking the constricting shackles off his wrists and ankles. He opened his eyes to see Orcs. He felt a pang of fear, but then a burst of anger. These horrid creatures had taken him from his home and his family. He would do nothing to give them satisfaction! The Orcs noticed the sudden change in his attitude and it amused them. The leader grunted and pulled Legolas to his feet. He threw the youngest Son of Thranduil onto one of the tables and fastened him so that he lay on his stomach. The Orc tore Legolas' tunic from his back. He ran his hand over the smooth skin, causing Legolas to shudder.
"Well, well, littl' Prince. You 'ave veery pret'y skin. Too bad you ain't gunna have it aftu this," the Orc gibed.
Legolas couldn't help the fear that clutched at him as he heard the Orc pulled something from his belt. He heard the Orc unrolling the object, and concluded that they were going to whip him. He braced himself, but nothing could have prepared him for the pain he felt. Not only did the whip break the skin, it dug in and tore at his flesh. Legolas barely held in a scream.
"Ah, dat ain't wat you wuz expectin' is it? It gots poison barbs on it. Ain't dat fun?"
The Orc struck Legolas again, and the young Elf couldn't suppress his wail of pain. As the Orc continued to beat him, Legolas' cries became frequent and louder. Tears rolled down his face as blood flowed down his back. He screamed and begged for them to stop, but the beating only continued until Legolas was sure that there was no more flesh on his back to whip.
