"Will we ever escape this place?" Thranduil wondered desperately. "I cannot let Legolas die here." He looked down at his son. Legolas slept fitfully, his breathing ragged. Hunger gnawed at Thranduil's stomach. He strained against his chains but all he succeeded in doing was bringing the dull pain in his back roaring back to life. Defeated, his closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauties!" Lord Katar cried, marching into the cell. "Another grand day has dawned! And with it comes some fantastic new ideas!"

Thranduil groaned. At his feet Legolas awoke with a jump. He cowered at his father's feet. Lord Katar smiled, kicking Landion out of his way. He approached Thranduil. "So strong, so proud. You refuse to be broken. But I, elf king,, can break even the strongest of souls. And today I will break you!"

Two guards approached Thranduil and unshackled him. Thranduil stumbled dizzily. A firm hand held him as another guard grabbed Legolas by a handful of his dirty blonde hair and chained him in Thranduil's place.

Lord Katar pressed the whip into Thranduil's hand, whispering in his ear, "Now flog your precious little son. Shatter the trust between you."

"No!" Thranduil cried, recoiling in horror.

Lord Katar smiled with pity in his eyes. "Come now, do as you are told, elf king. If your refuse to do as I say, I will give Legolas to my men to do to him as they will."

Thranduil swallowed. Legolas cried out, jerking against his shackles as though he knew the unspoken horrors hidden in Lord Katar's words. "No! No! Please beat me, ada. Please. I beg of you to do it. Please!"

Legolas's words pierced Thranduil's heart. He could not believe what he was hearing. No child should ever have to be heard begging his father for a beating. Legolas wanted to be whipped if only to avoid a far worst fate. With unwillingness in every step, Thranduil approached his son. Legolas's back was already sore with whiplashes and bruises. To have to cause him more pain . . . his own son! An ugly image floated through Thranduil's mind. If the only way to protect his son from wickedness far beyond words was to whip him . . .

"I am sorry, little leaf," Thranduil whispered. He brought the whip down on Legolas's back. "SO sorry." His eyes regarded with horror the ugly welt the whip left behind. He felt his heart tear in his chest.

"I know you are, ada," Legolas gasped, shuddering under the force of the blows. "I know you are." Tears streamed down his face, and his heart burned with hate so strong he had never felt it's like before. He hated Lord Katar for making his kind, gentle father to do this to him. Legolas's wrists began to slip I the shackles for they were made to hold grown men, not slender elflings. He collapsed on the floor, his back burning. Thranduil dropped the whip and sank to the floor, his face pale and splashed with Legolas's blood.

Lord Katar smiled, retrieving his whip. "And so the mighty elf king is broken." He turned on his heel and marched from the room.

Legolas crawled to his father and nuzzled into his arms. Thranduil wrapped his shaking arms around his son, feeling hot blood on his skin. "I am sorry, ion nin. I am sorry. My heart bleeds for you, Legolas. I am sorry. I truly am. Oh, valar, what have I done?"

"It is not your fault you had to hurt me," Legolas murmured. "Knowing you desired not to hurt me lessened the pain. I need you to be strong for me, ada. Please be strong for me."

Thranduil steadied his pounding heart with strength he knew not where it came from. He held Legolas to his chest, and his son rested, trembling with weakness and fear. He felt calm in his father's arms with Thranduil stroking his hair and murmuring soothing words in elvish. His eyes slipped close. Thranduil bit his lip. "Please stay with me, little leaf. Stay with me. We will not die here, little leaf. I will remove you from this foul place if it is the last thing I do."

Legolas murmured, "Ada, if you—if you cannot fulfill your promise, I will be happy because I-I will die with you." His voice cracked and tears welled up in his eyes. He clung to his father, weeping, "I do not want to die, ada. I do not want to die! I am so scared."

"Everything will be all right," Thranduil said without conviction. He rocked his son. "You will not die, Legolas, I promise." He held Legolas closer, burying his son's grief in his chest. His voice trembled as he began to sing in soft elvish, knowing Legolas found the sound soothing. Legolas's hands clutched fistfuls of Thranduil's hair as he forced his eyes closed on fresh tears. Thranduil's sorrowful gaze met Celebrail's grieved ones over his son's head.