Being remembered

Legolas woke up and the pain overwhelmed him. He didn't know how
much more torture
he would be able to take before he broke down. No one was even
looking for him. What
was the point? Aragorn probably forgot about him. The twin's
were on pretend
adventures, and forgot he was missing. Elrond went back to
taking care of his family.
Thranduil...probably didn't care.

Legolas stiffly moved to his thin mat. He scanned his injuries.
4 broken ribs, concussion,
stab wounds, fever, whip lashes, knife cuts, and a broken wrist
and ankle. He felt awful.
His fever was not making things better when a Orc brought him
out to The Work Field.
He was to sharpen swords and that would be torture with his
wrist.

Legolas spent all night sharpening the swords and was assigned
to do more the next day.
"Legolas" he heard his name whispered. The moon had just come
out and he didn't see
anyone near. "Legolas, look down." He heard. He looked down.
Nothing. "No under your
equipment and through the fence." The now-familiar-but-I-can't-
quite-place-it voice said.
Legolas complied. He hissed in pain. But all the pain was worth
who he saw.