One year had passed since the dreaded coup and Mirkwood was floundering; her people were kept under tight control and no one dared to contest against Sartarian otherwise themselves and their family would be thrown into the dungeon regardless of their age.

"Father," Calarian whispered. Thranduil turned slightly from the window to look at his eldest. "Do you think that we will have to spend the rest of our lives here?"

"No, Calarian, of course not," replied Eldran sarcastically, "Sartarian will let us go in the next few seconds and will come in and free us all."

However, as soon as he finished saying that, the door flew open and Sartarian, himself, waltzed in and glared at all three. "Hmm. Still alive then, are we?" He said grinning.

Calarian and Eldran glared daggers at him whilst Thranduil's face was chalk white with anger. Here was the elf that had murdered his youngest child. He would get his revenge someday and would relish Sartarian's passing.

Calarian and Eldran felt relatively the same way. They had all spent the first couple of days thinking of what had happened to Legolas in his first couple of moments but never wished to go into details.

The two brothers couldn't bear to believe that their youngest brother would never grow up into the famous warrior that they had envisaged him to be. Sartarian hadn't come to see them once during their first year of prison under their home but coming to see them on the day when he had murdered their baby brother and gloated in it was far too much.

They kept their anger hidden under their schooled features though their eyes turned a stormy grey.

"Ah, so still angry, I see?" questioned Sartarian sarcastically. "Shame that Legolas couldn't be here to see you now and what I have in store for you."

Thranduil broke. "You will NOT talk about my son like that, ever!" He roared out. "Killing an innocent is one of the worst crimes that an elf can commit. Why don't you go and visit Morgoth for me? You are a disgusting waste of an elf and we don't need you taking in the precious air needed for others."

Sartarian glanced at his second- in command, albeit amused. "So, 'my liege'," he said mockingly, "you still haven't lost your famous way of getting into a temper?" He went out momentarily before bringing back in a long whip. "Don't you realise that all actions have consequences?"

With a brief nod, the guards went and chained up all three elves and strung them up to the separate poles in the cell. Sartarian went round looking at them before bringing a ferocious lash onto Eldran's back. He gasped slightly at the pain before schooling his features once more.

Thranduil stared dumbstruck at Sartarian. The elf truly was mad and evil: couldn't the other elves that followed his command see? Sartarian glanced at Thranduil before whipping Eldran again another 9 times across his back.

"Thranduil, I told you that all actions have consequences. Eldran will suffer another ten times from those consequences," he said before promptly whipping Eldran again. He turned and looked at Calarian.

Calarian stared back furious at what this elf had done to his brothers.

"Amin feuye tell'lle," he spat out. (You disgust me!)

"Yes, I probably do," whispered Sartarian with a look at his guards. "However, let me tell you something, princeling, every year on this day that you were thrown in here, I will come and give you 100 lashes each, not including the 20 that Eldran has already begot." He said with an evil grin spreading across his features.

"So, are you ready?" Without further ado, he ordered his guards to begin the whipping. Thranduil hung his head during it all thinking primarily of his sons and wife, but most especially, Legolas. He hoped that he was safe in Mandos, but until he could see him alive in Arda, which would never happen, he would content himself to plot his revenge.