A/N: Wow, I'm so sorry this took so long! I just started school and I also started a new story, the "Lego-sue" one. I just managed to squeeze this little update in before I'm too busy. I hope you like it!

Warning: This chapter contains the beginning of violence (i.e.- whipping, kicking, punching) and forms of abuse. If you're too squeamish for that kind of stuff, especially when it's applied to a five-year-old boy, I suggest you leave. However, if you enjoy torture, like me, and are wild animals in that sense, then please, continue. -grin-

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Disclaimer: Tolkien, you're a genious! I could never hope to have the great ideas he did. Therefore, anything related to "Lord of the Rings" is not in my possession. Ah, alas. 'Tis the bittersweet taste of fanfiction.

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ch.13

"Ada, we could not find any trace of them," Elladan reported, mounting the steps where the elven lord was waiting. Elrond noted the hint of worry in the eldest twin's voice. Elrohir followed silently after his identical brother, his own brow creased with concern at the sudden disappearance of Estel and the prince. Arwen stood next to her father, gazing into the forest.

Elrond ran a hand over his face and stared up at the starry sky, wondering where on Arda the boy could be. "I am sure they are merely late or lost, a harmless predicament they will overcome." He tried to be positive for his children, but his own heart was bleeding with anxiety, and the mask of confidence did not fool them.

"What will we tell the king?" Elrohir whispered, causing all that heard to tremble in fear of the outcome they were sure it would garner if they told him that his only son was missing. Elrond sighed.

"Nothing," he said, turning back inside, "yet. We will wait and see if they return. If not…" He did not finish his sentence and did not need to, for the imaginations of his offspring finished it for him in their minds.

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"Legolas, you must wake," Estel whispered fearfully, glancing back at the roused orcs laughing in the light of the fire. They'd had a good enough share of ale to last for nights, yet at the moment it was all brewing in the deep pits of their stomachs. The rowdy bickering of the evil creatures frightened the boy and he was afraid they would take their energy out on the prisoners. Estel gripped the front of the elf's tunic tightly in his fists and gently shook the still unconscious prince. The hour was nearing two after midnight, and Legolas had still had not awakened yet. Estel was beginning to wonder if the orcs had done something to him when they had knocked him out.

"Legolas, please, you cannot leave me here alone!" Estel whispered frantically. He buried his face into Legolas' chest, tears streaming from his silver eyes. He wanted to go home. He wanted Ada and the twins, Arwen. He wanted the elf beneath him to wake.

"Legolas…"

His pleas were stopped as a rough and ungentle hand grasped his forearm and jerked him to his feet. He was wrenched unwillingly away from Legolas and dragged over to the fire, where he was thrown onto the ground, the chains digging uncomfortably into his skin.

"Here now, we'll ask Raznul about the elf, but we still don't know what to do with the boy!"

"I still say we eat him."

"Shut up, Fraeg! No one asked your opinion, anyway!"

Estel curled in on himself, covering his head in his arms and balling in tightly. He heard the sounds of a fight to his right and screeches of the orcs, as well as the earth groaning beneath their weight as they scuffled in their brawl.

"Ai now! Why not just use him as a play toy! It'll be fun to hear his screams!"

The rippling sound of roars met Estel's ears as they all agreed in enthusiasm. Estel was jerked to his feet once again and dragged to a tree, where the long chains were tied around the trunk, holding the boy at a spread-eagled position, his arms and shoulders strained from the pull of the chains. The orcs stripped him to his waist, discarding of the silver blue tunic in the forest. Estel trembled at the sudden cold and the fear gripping his heart. The bark of the tree behind him dug painfully into his skin.

A large orc stepped forward, shaking the kinks out of a long tongued lash. It laughed evilly as it saw the fear in its prisoner's eyes and wagged the black leather tauntingly in front of Estel's face.

"Pretty, isn't it?" he asked, trailing a claw down the boy's cheek. "And it makes beautiful designs on such soft flesh when it is used properly." The orc hooked a gnarled finger underneath Estel's chin, tilting his face up to stare evenly with his tormentor. It found amusement as the boy jerked his head sharply away, refusing to meet the orc's bloodshot gaze.

Estel cried out in surprise and pain as the whip was dragged across his side, licking around his ribs before withdrawing. Estel felt a trickle of blood run down his skin. The mark that had been made was thin and not deep, but the boy was surprised at how much it hurt. The orc gathered around chuckled at the emotion playing across Estel's young features.

"It will only get worse, boy!" one rasped from the crowd. The orc holding the whip nodded and smiled, revealing pointed teeth. It twirled the whip in small circles. It stepped slowly forward, scanning its red eyes over Estel's body as if trying to decide which part would hurt most when brought in contact with the torture devise it held in its hand. It at last made its choice, and raised the lash above its head.

When Legolas woke, he instantly wished he hadn't. His head hurt terribly and his heart seemed to be pounding a panicked rhythm in his chest. He did not yet open his eyes for fear what he would find. Slowly, his other senses came to him. He felt cold metal biting into his wrists and the ground beneath his back. He could smell the forest as well as the nauseating stench of the orcs. But when his hearing arrived, his blood ran cold. He heard orcs' laughter and the piercing sound of a whip, but that was not was what struck him the hardest. The sound that stopped his heart was the anguished, familiar cry that echoed through the trees.

The elf sat bolt upright, even though his head swirled at the motion. The chains around him clanked and grated upon each other as he twirled around, facing the direction of the evil sounds. He got unsteadily to his feet and crept up to the crowd of vecz surrounding the base of a tree, from where the cries of pain and the lash's strikes came from. Legolas gripped his chain tightly in his fists as he drew closer.

The next blow sent Estel's head reeling. His torso was already marred with ugly red stripes delivered by the whip, and blood ran freely down his skin. He wished for the pain to stop, but found himself treading a deep dark passage that only grew narrower as he felt unconsciousness drawing near. He closed his eyes as another bite from the lash rocked him and made him tense in the chains that held him so tightly against the tree. He shouted loudly at the now familiar pain that sent his whole body screaming for release at the torture. The whip had been going at a rhythm for almost ten minutes now, striking, resting, striking, resting again so Estel could gather his wits and sanity before striking again and upsetting all that the boy had collected.

Estel composed himself and waited for the expectant pain that would tip his being, but it never came. He squeezed his eyes shut, thinking that maybe the orcs was only playing with him, and tensed his muscles, his nerves thrown outward to detect the bite of the lash that never came. Past the ringing in his ears, Estel heard the screeches of surprise and anger come from the orcs that had gathered around and the sound of a chain clinking together. The boy opened his eyes and forced the blurry world to come into focus.

"Estel!" Estel gasped, but the elf was too preoccupied to hear. The prince held the chain attached to him in both hands, swinging the heavy links with all the strength he held in his weakened body at the dark creatures gathered around the injured boy. As Estel watched, Legolas curled the chain around at the orc that held the bloodied whip, the thick links twirling around the creature's neck. Legolas grabbed the other end of the chain and placed a foot in the center of the orc's chest, throwing his weight back and jerking on the heavy chain he held. The orc's neck snapped with a loud crack, and it fell to the ground, dead. The other orcs leaped forward with one large, thunderous cry and pressed in on the elf that had killed their leader.

Legolas swiftly untangled the chain from around the dead orc's throat and defended himself against the evil creatures that piled around him. He struggled to fend off the dirty beings, but now that their rage and attention was focused completely on him, they proved too much for him. They managed to get the nimble elf off his feet and began beating on him with their fists and boots, since none of their weapons were at hand. Estel watched in horror as Legolas disappeared beneath the wave of orcs and tugged against his bonds, despite the searing pain it caused. Suddenly one orc reached down and tugged the elf up, throwing him at Estel's feet. Legolas crumpled to the ground. His breaths heaved as he struggled for air. He had all but suffocated in the massive press of the evil beings.

The elf raised his head and met Estel's silver, glistening eyes with his own proud blue ones, saying with just his gaze that the boy should not worry. Estel could not help such a thing as worry. Bruises darkened the prince's fair face and blood ran freely from a split lip. The boy knew that the way the elf held himself that there were many other ugly marks the creatures had inflicted upon him hidden beneath the dark green tunic.

The orcs seized Legolas' arms and hauled the elf to the side. They tugged him to his knees and two held him in place, the being they held hanging limply in their grasp, his head bowed. One tangled its gnarled hand in the golden locks and yanked the prince's head back upright as another orc stepped forward. It now held the whip and smiled cruelly at the boy and elf.

"It seems our other companion has joined the fun," it growled. "Welcome, good elf. It is beautiful, is it not?" It waved a hand at Estel's scarred body. Pure feral rage snapped through the light blue eyes of the elven prince and fixed the orc with a hating glare he had inherited from his father. While the glower would at least tremble the knees of most beings it was turned upon, the orc only laughed as if from a joke. It hooked a twisted finger underneath the elf's chin and tilted his head up.

"Your turn for beauty will come soon enough, maggot," it grumbled. Legolas jerked his head away from the touch. The orc holding his hair yanked the elf's head back painfully, while the one holding the whip granted the stubborn Legolas a backhanded slap with its armored hand. Legolas tasted blood in his mouth and gazed back up at the orc in front of him.

"You will also learn how to behave around your masters," the orc clamored. Legolas' eyebrows knitted and the fury in his eyes rose a few notches, if such a thing were possible. His gaze could have set the forest aflame.

"I have no master, spawn of darkness," he snarled in a low voice. He spat the blood he had in his mouth at the creature, receiving another blow from the armored hand as a result. The orc regarded the elf coolly, with a calculating gaze. Elves were never really easy to break, but enough pressure and pain could prove valuable to the results the orc wanted. The orc could see that this elf's spirit was wild and would be incredibly hard to harness and tame, but they had all the time in the world. All the time the elf had left to live in the world, that is.

"You will soon learn to think differently, slave," the beast emphasized the word, glad to see Legolas physically bristle. It revealed its pointed teeth again in a grin. "For now, just sit back and watch the show we will put on for you. I am sure you will find it amusing." The orc stalked back to the bleeding, trembling boy held in the chains and stroked the whip as if it were a pet that had pleased its master. Estel eyed the device fearfully, and Legolas hated the frightened gleam the silver eyes held, wishing to make it stop. He struggled against the orcs that held him, knowing what was coming.

Estel cried out in pain as the whip licked his already hurting body and creating a new mark across his skin. He jerked in his chains, trying unsuccessfully to get away from the pain that devoured his soul. The world around him faded and everything gave into darkness. He knew nothing but the new hurts being added to the old and the harsh, ungentle bite of the lash.

Legolas screamed in rage as the orc struck the bound boy, wrenching against the clawed hands gripping him and attempting to stand. The orcs struck him with their fists and feet as he still continued to struggle, but he was paying more attention to Estel's pain than his own. He felt completely helpless as he was forced to sit and watch the cruel treatment the young boy was being put through. Tears of horror tracked down the elf's face as the cries of pain renting from the throat of one much too young to deserve receiving such treatment pained his sensitive ears. He did not want harsh memories to stain the innocent life of his friend who had made him forget his. He would rather die than let Estel come to harm like this.

Yet the orcs' grips on his arms were like steel bands and would not let go, no matter how much he struggled. Legolas felt the rage he held building higher and higher until it was almost unbearable, and he let it out through screaming curses at the horrible creatures holding him in every language he knew, from Dwarfish to Stezctkin. Soon the steady beating of the whip ceased, and Estel collapsed limply in the chains, his head lolling forward.

"Legolas…" he murmured quietly, his voice rasping from the cries he had emitted. Legolas pulled against the clawed hands.

"Nin-dethro hîn, Estel, nin-dethro hîn!" Legolas called in Elvish. "Nyóch de sinén halenth! Nin-halé freythïn hén! I am here, Estel, I am here! Do not fear! I will not leave you!" Estel relaxed in his bonds as he gave way to unconsciousness, comforted by the sound of Elvish. The orcs howled and covered their ears at the sound of the flowing language. The ones holding Legolas kicked him roughly for uttering the words. The orc holding the whip snapped the device in its hand and stalked up to the elf, holding the prince's chin between its claws tightly and forcing him to look up at it.

"Never," it snarled, "never use that cursed dialect near our ears again, elf!" Legolas jerked his head away and spat at the creature.

"Lastô nëth en sai, jyeùi!" the elven prince said lethally. "I will not be silenced, scum!" The orc flinched visibly at the words and backhanded the elf prisoner, snapping Legolas' head to the side painfully. It snatched Legolas' chin in its hand and brought their faces close together. It took an amazing amount of courage to still glare at an orc when that close, but somehow Legolas managed to find it. The stench of the orc's breath nearly made him gag.

"I see that it is your turn for learning manners, elf," it growled. It raised its head and barked to the rest of the orcs, "Untie the boy! It's his turn." It shook Legolas roughly in its grasp and snapped the whip in the air, laughing as it saw a hint of apprehension in the confident elf's gaze.

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"Lord Elrond," King Thranduil called, stepping into the comfy fire room. A large flame was set in the stone fireplace, casting a warm light and glow. Pillows and couches sat around the fireplace. The fire room was mostly used at the end of the day and was a public place, where the elders of Rivendell told their stories. No one save Elrond and his children were there at the moment. The elven lord was sitting on one of the couches, and the twins and their sister were sprawled inelegantly in the pillows on the floor. None looked very relaxed at all.

Elrond glanced up at the king's entry. "Yes?"

"Where is Legolas? Have you seen him anywhere?" Thranduil asked, stopping to stand in front of the lounging elves. The king noted on howElrond's children looked away, a near shameful look on each of their faces. He turned back to Elrond, who was staring at his clasped hands resting in his lap.

"Lord Elrond? Is there something I should know?" The elven lord sighed slightly and looked up reluctantly, meeting the glare of the king.

"Both Legolas and Estel left to roam the forest and have not yet returned," Elrond said slowly, trying to ease down the growing dread in his chest. "We searched for them a few hours ago and hoped that they would come back. They haven't." Thranduil stood silently in shock for a moment, staring in disbelief at the elven lord. The only sound was the crackling of the large flames of the fire, and even they seemed too loud.

"My son…is lost…again?" Thranduil thundered, the shout echoing off the stone walls of the fire room. It was the only place in Lord Elrond's home built of stone, and therefore it was the most soundproof, but Elrond would not be surprised if Thranduil's roar had been heard throughout Rivendell.

Thranduil threw up his hands and turned away. He paced the room once, and then came back to Elrond, his anger only risen.

"I thought you had learned your lesson the first time he snuck away!" Thranduil demanded. "He was in your care last time and still is!"

"Then it is your fault as well as mine that he is missing, King Thranduil, for he was also under your care, was he not? He is your son after all. And might I remind you that my own son had disappeared? We are both worried for their sake, so why must we argue about how this came to be? We must work together to find them, not stand here and argue over whose fault it is!"

"And how will we do that when we do not even know which direction they went?" Thranduil asked. "How do we know where to start?"

"We followedLegolas' trail to a clearing, where he probably met up with Estel," Elrohir suddenly said, standing from the pillow in which he had lain. "From there they went through the forest, but then we lost their trail heading through some ivy. We can try to relocate it."

"You do that, Elladan, Elrohir," Elrond nodded to his two sons. "King Thranduil and I will stay here and see if they return."

"I'm going too," Arwen said, standing beside her younger brothers. "I can help."

"Any help is appreciated, Arwen," Elrond said. "Go now." His offspring hurried quickly away and out of sight. Elrond sat back down on the couch, offering a seat to the elven king, but Thranduil refused and went to stand by one of the large open windows, gazing out into the forest. His heart ached with worry.

"Where are you, Legolas?" he whispered into the unresponsive darkness. "Why do you stay in the dark, where I cannot see you?"

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Estel shifted softly and his eyes creaked open. He did not know where he was, or why his body hurt so much. He turned his head and saw a blurry form curved over him protectively, slim arms supporting his back and holding him close to a steadily rising and falling chest that was encased in a steady bluish glow.

"Legolas?" Estel murmured, recognizing the person that held him. The elf, his head resting on the boy's chest, stirred slightly at the sound of Estel's voice. His eyes were closed in his sleep. Estel realized that the prince was trembling slightly, and wondered why. Legolas' tunic was gone, and the young boy saw the ugly red marks sliced into the fair being's skin. He gasped softly and gently touched one of the scars on the elf's chest that was still bleeding freely. Legolas moaned at the placid touch, his muscles tensing beneath the boy he held. His eyes slowly opened and bleary blue eyes fixed to the silver ones watching him. Legolas sat bolt upright, giving Estel a full view of the horrible state he was really in. He leaned in closer to Estel, concern etched into his features.

"Estel?" he asked. "How do you feel?"

"I hurt," the boy replied, his eyes flicking over the red stripes that marked his elven friend's bare torso. "Did they whip you, too?" His large eyes gazed warily at the elf, who smiled and leaned comfortingly over the boy, letting their brows rest against each other. Legolas closed his eyes and sighed.

"Yes, Estel," he whispered. "But I am more worried about you. You should not have been beaten like that…I thought my heart stopped when I saw you. I'm so sorry, Estel, I tried to get to you, I did…" He didn't finish his sentence and tears escaped his closed lids as he remembered the horrible feeling of helplessness, being forced to watch Estel's torture and not being able to stop it…

"Legolas, you tried," Estel murmured, brushing away the tears that clung to the prince's dark eyelashes. "I felt the same way when they hit you and made you wear chains. There was nothing we could do." Legolas nodded, his eyes still closed. He suddenly felt like the child and Estel the adult. He swore to himself that he would be strong for the boy and not give up hope for Estel's sake.

"Hannon le, Estel," Legolas murmured. Estel smiled and closed his eyes, exhaustion from the beating and the long night catching up on him and pulling him to sleep. Legolas smiled softly as the small body he cradled fell limp as the boy fell to sleep. He kissed Estel's brow gently.

"Rest now, Estel," he murmured. "You need strength to last another day."

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I hope that was long enough! Reviews please!