Just a quick note. I would like to thank the people that are reading this story. A special thanks to Ida Cippo for the reviews. I really enjoy hearing your opinion about this story. Please continue to review. I also don't mind new reviewers...looks hopeful.

This chapter will be dark...with lots of Elf torture... (just a warning.)

Edited chapter to unglue the words...

The orcs called a stop, just after the sun began to fall from the sky. They had been walking since the early morning, and it seemed that the Orcs wished a break.

Several stared with shallow eyes into the brilliant orb of the setting sun and growled menacingly, as it continued to fall.The rest adverted their gazes entirely, as if subtlety reminded of the time when they too enjoyed such beauties; when they had been elves.

When around the twisted creatures (the Sons of Mordor), it was hard to remember that they had been elves. They had lost their light, and their way, under torture and other abuses, and had thus become servants of the enemy. Laitheryn knew that horrible truth, like the rest of the elves he was with. The three separate elven nations had fought against the orcs for countless years, but that truth was never lost.

Laitheryn watched as the golden reds, turned to deep purples and deeper blues. He watched for the beauty, and tried not to admit to himself that this could easily be the last sunset he saw. The Greenwood forces that he had called forth may be too far behind to assist them. They could fail, and their nation would crumble as a result.

"Are ye scared, elf?" A rusty voice echoed near him.

Laitheryn turned to face the orc that had spoken to him.

"Answer me, Maggot! Ar'ya scared of the burning light!" The dark orc growled out the last two words. "Does its sight fill ye with fear?"

Laitheryn sensed Dinenant drifting closer to him; and he was thankful for the silent support the patrol leader gave.

This orc seemed to be one of the smaller ones, as if the elf it had been had not been fully grown when the torture had begun. And whatever height the young elf had reached, and been further stunted by the pains he or she had suffered at the hands of their abusers.

It wore a strip of leather, covering its lower quarters, and that scarce armour stretched upwards. From the creatures waist, ripped sections of the thick material traveled up its frame. From what Laitheryn could see of the orc it was likely that the dark leather was knotted behind the creatures' neck.

The orc wore long gloves, darkened by the blood that had fallen on them. Laitheryn tried to ignore the fact that the colouring of the gloves got lighter as they reached away from the orcs' hands, where the blood had not fallen so easily.

The smaller orc wore dark boots, and at there tip of each foot, was pieces of twisted metal that matched the bolts that ran upwards towards the creatures knee. Laitheryn mused that the only reason this orc had been allowed to keep its winnings was that the rest probably would not be able to fit into what armour this one could.

Continuing with his examination, Laitheryn found his gaze lingering on the face of the orc. Its nose was completely twisted, and then squashed to its face. As if it had been broken once and once more asit had healed. Its eyes were dark, pitch coloured orbs that showed no mercy or love for anything surrounding it. The young elf this orc had been had everything comfort stripped from them. They had been left in the darkness,and gradually became hardened to it. They had lost the ability to love as their souls dimmed.

Was this fate, the one this twisted orc had, be his fate too? 'No! I will not think that! I cannot lose hope…'

"Answer me! Does the fires of the sun scare ye, Elf!"

"Nay, it is not the fire of the sun that I would claim fear of." Laitheryn answered. "Another cold flame is responsible for that."

The orc snarled, as if it had not liked his answer. "You will learn to fear the sun, Elf. You will learn to fear its fires."

"I will not fear the suns' light for as long as I breathe free air."

This earned him another howl from the outraged orc, and it slowly approached him. Laitheryn stayed his ground, knowing that if he backed down to this orc; then the other creatures that were watching this confrontation would choose him as an easy target.

Laitheryn assumed that when this conversation had started,that the small orc questioning him had been ordered to it by thier superiors. They were looking for the easiest victims, the ones that would not take much time and force to turn to their kin. They wished an easy target for their rages to begin, and Laitheryn was determined that he would not be that target.

He also knew that, despite whatever answers he gave to the orc, this would be the end result. He would not speak a lie, just to please someone stronger than him. He could have lied and said he, too, feared the sun; and the result would have been the same.

Laitheryn waved Dinenant and Elladan away from him, secure with the knowledge that if they assisted, they would too be beaten. Both were held back by others of their nation, and Laitheryn risked a glance at the two.

Dinenants' silver eyes were filled with remembered pain and sympathy, remembered pain for his past and sympathy for what was about to occur. Elladan struggled in the hands of the elves that held him, and Laitheryn turned his attention onto him. Elladan caught his silent glare and fell still, a hopeless expression beginning to settle on his face.

Turning his gaze back to the young orc, Laitheryn just had enough time to duck the swing to his head. He was sure that his resistance would have repercussions, but another blow to that region was not what he desired.

The small orc hissed in anger and lunged for him; Laitheryn stayed the charge and allowed the orc to pounce. If he dodged another attack, like he had the first, the surrounding orc army would involve themselves in their dispute. And this act would lead to the deaths of the elves around him, as all were bound and most were too weak to fight back.

A moment later the orc crashed into him, sending them both sprawling; both impacts temporarily stunned him. From the surprised look on the orcs' face, and the one that danced across its eyes, Laitheryn realized that the orc assumed he would dodge too and it had been unprepared for the fall.

The blonde elf struggled to get air into his shocked lungs as the creature recovered from its landing on top of him. As he struggled to breathe, from the fall and the weight of the orc; Laitheryn saw a triumphant look follow the shock that had donned the monsters' expression.

There seemed no pause between him noting the change in the orcs expression, seconds later the orc had flipped him. Laitheryns' vision darkened at the quick movement and for a second it seemed as if the ground were shaking to the rhythm that pounded in his head. He struggled to breathe through this eerie sensation and as the dizziness faded Laitheryn heard something whistling through the air, descending rapidly towards him.

The first blow struck his turned back, and forced his recovering lungs to quit once more, as he unintentionally gasped at the blow and the blast of pain that followed.

He could sense the orcs amusement as it raised the whip over its head once more. It laughed at the pain he was in, and found pleasure in being the one that caused it. It enjoyed the fact that the first blow had caught him by surprise. And now, by his unintentional and uncontrollable act, the other orcs may see him as the target they had wished to find.

Laitheryn could sense their leering grins from where he lay. For whatever else occurred as the orc continued to torture him, Laitheryn would have to ensure that no noise crossed his lips.

There was that whisper in the wind once more, and the whip struck his back where it had landed first. Laitheryn could feel the welts of his skin beginning to rise in answer to the strike and could feel the agony of pain wash over him.

The whip fell once more, landing across his shoulder blade, cutting a rough 'T' shape into his skin. The orc, behind him, laughed openly at the blow, and Laitheryn could sense the whip raise once more. Another flicker of pain erupted from his back, as the creature followed through with the attack. This blow landed, and Laitheryn could feel the fallout from the blowgraze his cheek as it fell.

Several more blows followed this one, cutting below the original tee that the orc had created on his skin. He bit the inside of his lip, and kept his head on the ground, drawing upon the sensation of the earth to cool the burning heat on his back.

The elf could feel the blood dripping from his back whenever the orc struck him. As his blood mingled into the wounds and touched the burning heat of the welts on his back, it did nothing to ebb the pain, rather it created its own in its wake.

The creature allowed the torture device to fall once more, and Laitheryn swallowed his pain filled cry. This blow landed on welts already well formed, and several broke under the pressure of the attack. He stayed quiet for several reasons, first because if he made anynoise it would only serve to gratify the monsters around him, and second the elves may try to fight back if he admitted how painful this was. And they were in no condition to fight.

The orc continued to beat him, faster now, as if hoping that that if the strikes came sooner and with more force, that he would cry out. He did not count the number of times that the whip landed, he would not count that. Laitheryn closed his eyes, and tried to close his mind off to the pain.

He could hear the wind move as the orc allowed the whip to fall once more, and he tasted the pain of its recourse.Once again Laitheryn found himself biting the inside of his lip to avoid the cry that wished to come. The orcs hoots and howls of pleasure, turned angered as he did not respond as they wished him too. The orc holding the whip growled back at its party surrounding them.

"Cry, Elf. And it will end." It promised.

"Nay." Laitheryn responded, moving his head off the ground, so that the entire party of orcs…and elves…could hear his response. "I will not cry for your pleasure, and that of your kin." His voice sounded so strong and Laitheryn wondered where he found that strength to answer.

The orc howled in anger and the whip fell more furiously than it had before. Laitheryn did not react to the change, merely laid his head back on the grounds of Arda and tried to pretend as if this was not occurring.

Without warning the furious beating slowed, and then stopped. He tensed in preparation for another strike, but it did not come. Laitheryn took the pause to continue to recover his composure and regain fragile control of his senses.

"Cry, Elf. And there will be no more pain." The orc spoke once more.

"I will not!"

"You fear the pain, so cry and it will end."

Laitheryn did not answer further, merely allowed his silence to state what he could not. As the orc expressed its rage, the blonde elf found himself wondering if this is how the young orc had been broken. Was this the method that the cruel one had used on the small elf, that became the smaller orc? Was this a method that the orc knew would work, from experiencing the pain itself?

"You will cry."

"Never." Laitheryn promised. "I will never cry."

The whip whistled through the air once more, and Laitheryn realized as it landed that the sound this was different from what he had become used too. At some point the orc had switched weapons, and had decided to continue the assault with this one instead.

The fresh welts exploded, sending flickers of fluid over his back as this new device hit him once more. It was with this hit that Laitheryn realized that the welts were not exploding from the force of the attack, or the ferocity that the new whip met his back.Thedevicewas embedded with small spears of sharp metal. Too dull to cut in too deeply to do serious injury, but sharp enough that wherever the lash fell, it sparked new agony.

This whip was designed to aggravate past injuries, as well as cause new ones; and the orc holding it knew enough to swing for the red swellings it had already caused before. As it fell, Laitheryn tensed, fearing the blow that would come.

Moving his desperate gaze off the ground where he lay, Laitheryn saught out the comforting gaze of the young elf lord and the patrol leader, he saught comfort from the gazes of his friends. Both looked horrorified at what was occurring before them. Elladan seemed frozen in shock, and Laitheryn caught his grieved eye and tried to send a message through. 'I knew this could occur, as the youngest of the combined party.' Laitheryn tried to make his eyes speak. 'I knew I was most at threat, because of my age. I am happy that it is not you they torture.'

Elladans' eyes grew more hopeless as Laitheryn felt the whip fall once more, sending new agonies sprawling up his back. If he did cry out to end the pain, the elves of Imladris would not fault him for it; for now it was only his sheer stubbornness that kept the cry from his lips.

As the lash swung through the air once more, something drove his attention to the Greenwood elves. There seemed to be a slight scuffle that had broken out in the center of the group. It seemed to Laitheryn that one near the center had seen enough of this torture and had made a move to end it. Thankfully that attempt had been stopped by the surrounding elves, before more harm would befall. The orcs, so focused on him, did not seem to note the fight that had broken out amid one section of their captives.

"Cry, Elf!"

Laitheryn almost wished he could, but he had neither the strength nor the will to respond. As the whip fell over and over, the blonde elf could feel his resolve slipping to the pain and knew the cry would pass his lips, despite his struggles to impede it.

The torture continued and Laitheryn found his gaze riveted upon the elves from Greenwood.He caught the forest green eyes of one elf, and held that steady gaze. There was something so familiar about the eyes that watched him, something that soothed the pain he felt; and his world seemed to reel the longer the connection held.

In the eyes of the elf, that Laitheryn chose to watch, he could almost hear the whisper of the forest; he could almost hear the sounds of leaves in the soft breezes. He could almost hear the rain falling onto the sheltering branches of Greenwood forest, and could almost see the rainbow that formed high over the trees as the sun returned to dominance.

The orc spoke once again, demanding him to submit. But Laitheryn found strength in the elfs' gaze and did not give in. He stayed quiet and waited for the next blow to fall.

His expectation was met and fresh pain grew from the blow that had followed. It now seemed reduced as he struggled to place the eyes that held his. The answer would appear, but quickly vanish as his attention was constantly forced from the familiar eyes to the blows that landed on his back.

CRY!"

"….No…" it was a whisper, but still held enough power to carry to the orcs damaged ears. "I will not."

"Then you will die!"

"That is enough!" The tallest and broadest Orc strode forward.

The smaller one turned and seemed to duck lower, as this one approached. It was a submissive action, one filled with great fear.

The bigger orc ripped the whip from the smallers hands. The young orc whimpered as a piece of the metal embedded in his hands, as the weapon was pulled.

"Gives me another chance! I almost had him!"

"More blows will not break this one, merely send him to his death."

"I…."

"You will not speak, Maggot!"

This was followed up by the larger creature sending the whip crashing down onto the face of the smaller. The orc screamed in pain, as blood erupted from its broken eye and coursed down its already marred features. As the small one screamed, the orcs surrounding them seemed to enjoy its suffering. They drew closer to the confrontation.

'You must move…' A familiar voice whispered in his mind.

It was the voice that had bid him to run just before he had met the orc army, just before he had been captured. Laitheryn realized that he felt no surpriseas the knowledge reached his dazed mind, that the owner of the melodious voice was the same elf that had captured his gaze during the lashing he had suffered. He also wondered how, exactly, he knew that the soft voice belonged to the same elf.

'It is not safe where you lie. You must move.'

Their minds met and Laitheryn sensed the overwhelming concern this elf had for him, and its anger towards the orcs that had caused it.

'I sent the message…' Laitheryn tried, unsure if the strange communication would work.

'……I know…Do not tarry! The orcs will attack soon.'

It was with that statement that the elder elf broke the contact. As their minds fled one another, Laitheryn was shocked to feel pressing grief erupt from the mind of the green eyed elf. As if he had recalled some past pain to the forefront of his elders mind, with just the contact alone. Laitheryn was sure that the elf would not reach for him again, nor let their eyes meet once more.

He took a breath, half to summon what residual strength he had and to refocus his thoughts on what action he had to carry out. After a moment of waiting for the pain to fade from his initial movement, he then forced himself to begin to move away from the circle that was beginning to surround the small orc. Each of his movements were slow and careful, and each woke more pain from his back. To his relief the orcs allowed him to pass, some sneering down at him as he crawled. Their attention seemed riveted upon the fight occurring near them.

Laitheryn knew that the orcs of the party would soon turn against the smallest one, and would swarm in to kill it…or eat it. The orcs' orders had been to break him, andit had failed; the smallest orc had failed his test. To fail as an orc, seemed to merit death. Laitheryn instinctively knew he did not wish to be in the circle when the pressure finally broke the fragile hold the leader had over the group. The elder elf had not needed to inform him of that.

Elladan broke from both his shock and the hands that held him, and moved as well as he could in his direction. The orcs let him pass too, now focused on what was occurring in the circle. Elladan reached him and helped him the rest of the way. Dinenant appeared to his left and both half carried him out of the path of danger and directly into the center of the Imladris elves. The elves of Imladris allowed them to pass, before falling in and completing a circle around them, effectively blocking the three from the fallout of the fight beginning to break.

"You will not kills him! You have failed in your orders to break him!"

"Gives me a chance! I will break him!"

"You would kill him first!"

"No!"

The bigger orc lashed out and caught the smaller in the face once more.With a howl that sounded more animal than sentinent the little orc surrendered and fell back onto the ground. As it landed, the orc army swarmed, and Laitheryn kept his gaze firmly locked on the ground ahead of him, not wishing to see the end results of the slaughter.

He could hear growls and screams of pain erupting from the small orc and others that fell to the wayside. Laitheryn could hear the clashes of metal upon metal, and the sickening stench of flesh rift of bodies when the orcs did not defend themselves from their kins' attack. He could hear the screams of those that had been cut, drifting through the air. And the sounds of bone being broken, from living victims; the animals' screams of one being eaten alive.

Elladan drove his attention back and away from the fight, as he started to treat the injuries that the small orc had given him. Laitheryn found himself wincing as the cool water came in contact with his burning skin and started to flush out the wounds. He was sure that Elladan was unaware of what he was doing, merely acting on the instincts and the training that Lord Elrond had passed down to him. As Elladan worked to clean the injuries as well as he could, Laitheryn could hear a faint hum coming from the elf lords' lips.

The elves around him picked up the melody Elladan whispered, and started singing softly to themselves and those around them. The humming melody was an attempt to tune out what was occurring just meters from their location. The elves did not wish to hear the dying screams of those being eaten alive and turned to the only thing that could come between those sounds, song. It was small comfort where none existed.

Soon the gentle tones traveled from the Imladris elves as the Greenwood elves drifted into soft song too, following the melody created by their kin with their own voices. And as they sang, Laitheryn found himself drifting to sleep.