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The last moments of my life, and there is naught but dirt and decay…
Legolas moved his hand gingerly over the ground, feeling the leaves shift beneath his fingers. They were all dead, crumbling at his touch and falling to the trodden down dirt beneath them. Blood dropped beside the decaying flora, stemming from the prince's lip. He reached up to touch it, and couldn't ignore how his hand trembled at the sight of such bright essence smeared across his fingers.
"Had enough, brat?" The orc that had been accosting him was watching with beady eyes, drinking in his pain. The creature knew it had the upper hand, and so did its ilk. They gathered around to watch the elf struggle.
"He'll wish he was dead before Durgash is through!" One of the smaller orcs said gleefully. "Watch him cry! Watch him die!"
"Oh, I don't know," the larger orc's voice was thick with disdain. "I think he might just like this. Wouldn't surprise me if all elves are twisted freaks like the ones in Rivendell. You remember the tales about that sorceress bitch..."
Legolas stared up at them, his mind running a mile a minute as he began to fully comprehend what they were alluding to. Did they intend to torture and abuse him in the same way their kin had done to Celebrian? A shock of cold fear forced its way down his spine, and he lunged sideways, where there were fewer of the foul creatures.
Immediately, they pounced on him, ripping open his tunic and exposing his chest to the cold air. The beasts began whooping and hollering, laughing as he struggled and cried out. They took delight in scratching and pinching him, and their cruelty only grew as they discovered the extent of his sensitivities.
The elf felt his ears burning, his heart hammering in his chest. He kicked and squirmed, but the orcs were relentless. "Nay, no more! Please!" He pleaded, his voice hoarse.
"Beggin' already? It's barely started, you pretty-boy elf." One of them spat in his face. The prince squeezed his eyes shut, and a small, pitiful whine escaped him as the orc's nails dug into his ribs. Another cruel hand pinched the tip of his right ear and pulled, yanking on the delicate flesh.
"Ah!" Legolas cried out, fighting to reach up and slap away the beast tormenting him. Instead, two thick, clammy hands wrapped around his wrists and held him still as another orc began to lock him into a pair of manacles. He could feel the cold metal chafing his skin as they secured the bonds tightly.
"What should we do first, eh?" One of the orcs mused. "Break his fingers? Take a few toes? Pull out some teeth?"
Legolas' eyes widened. Were they truly so depraved? He felt sick, his stomach rolling at the thought of being mutilated and tortured.
"Nay," the orc holding him down growled. "I've got a better idea. Hold him still."
He raised his dagger, showing off how the blade was crusted with old blood and darkened dirt. Every sharp edge spoke of a painful death and a festering wound. He began to slice through Legolas' belt, easily cutting the elven leather. His next targets were the prince's clothes, which tore messily as their owner fought to keep his dignity. The elf let out a shout as his trousers fell away, exposing him to the elements.
"You're just a pup, ain't ya? Skinny little runt," the orc said in disgust, his eyes traveling up and down the prince's slim body. "No meat on ya at all."
Legolas looked down, trying to pull his knees together and hide himself. There was a bruise blossoming across his hip, a mark from his fight earlier. It ached, but the pain was nothing compared to his embarrassment and fear.
The orcs laughed at him. One of them slapped his thigh.
"Get away from me!" Legolas snapped, kicking the creature. It was a bad idea, and the other monsters descended on him, slapping and grabbing at his bare legs. They seemed intent on keeping him still as one of the larger orcs stepped closer.
"We'll fix that attitude of yours right up, princeling." It said, a cruel grin on its ugly face.
"No!" The elf cried. He struggled, but it was in vain. They held him down, and the largest orc grabbed his hips, forcing his legs apart.
Legolas froze, a cold sensation spreading throughout his body as the true terror hit him. He had never been touched by another in such a manner, and his body was supposed to remain pure for his future spouse. He had always believed he would be intimate with someone he loved, but now his most personal and sensitive parts were exposed to the world.
The orc leaned in, its breath hot and foul. The beast's eyes were a dark, murky color, and they shone with sadistic intent. It reached out, running its dirty fingers along the cleft of the elf's ass.
"Stop!" Legolas shouted, his face flushed and his heart pounding. "Don't do this!"
"You don't give orders around here." The orc snarled. It took a small wineskin from its side, and dumped the contents between the elf's legs. The crude excuse for oil stung where it sullied Legolas' skin, and then burned like a thousand fires when the orc began to shove his cock against the prince's virgin hole.
"NO! Please!" Legolas screamed, fighting with renewed vigor. The orc's member was thick and heavy, and it hurt as it pushed against him. He couldn't do this! It would tear him in half!
"Quit your squirmin', elf." The creature hissed, digging its nails into Legolas' hip. "Or maybe I'll start cutting bits off while I'm inside of you. I might not mind the screams so much then."
The prince went still, tears spilling from his eyes. He let out a broken gasp as the orc managed to bury its cock to the hilt with one harsh snap of its hips. Blinding pain raced up Legolas' back, and he arched his body in an involuntary attempt to retreat from the violent intrusion. His eyes rolled back in his head, and the pain clouded his vision. Nothing remained tangible for several moments before he was brought back to horrid reality by a hard slap across the face.
"Pay attention, princess," the orc sneered. "You don't wanna miss anything.
And it began to move.
The beast's thrusts were rough, and the elf's body rocked back and forth, his muscles tense. He could feel the monster's cock inside of him, violating him and tearing him open. Blood and oil dribbled down his thighs, and he wanted nothing more than to die. Fervent prayer left his lips in between gasps for breath, and he begged for his spirit to fade then and there. His pleading pitched up into a choked sob when another orc grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head back. Legolas caught sight of bloody, mangled flesh being shoved through the orc's fist, and realized that the creature was cleaning its cock with his hair. He looked away, desperate not to go mad from the depravity swimming around him. His own member hung limp between his legs, the soft organ betraying his innocence as the orcs took him. His face was flushed, his brow furrowed and his mouth hanging open. He couldn't catch his breath, and his chest was heaving from the pain of every thrust.
The orc behind him moved forward, and its jagged armor mashed against Legolas' thighs. The pain made his head swim. A cry tore itself from his lips, and he found himself begging once again.
"Please," he whimpered. "Please stop."
"Not even close, princess," the orc laughed, leaning over him. "Look at how many of us there are... You'll be nothing but cum and blood by the time we're through."
Legolas sobbed aloud, giving in to the crushing despair in his chest. This was not a fate he should have found, it wasn't fair. He tugged fruitlessly on his bound wrists, upsetting the orcs holding him down. One of them eagerly slapped him, and its claws left burning scratches across his cheek.
"Hurry up, Durgash!" An orc called from the side. "I want a go at him too."
"Shut up!" The beast inside him shouted. "I'm enjoying myself, you can wait your damn turn."
"No! I want it now! Finish up!"
"Me too, me too!" Another orc clamored, licking drool and spittle from its lips as it gazed at the helpless elf.
Legolas watched through teary eyes as the crowd of orcs descended into bickering. They argued over who was going to have him first, and he couldn't help the bitter laugh that slipped past his lips. Even in the midst of defiling him, they could not help but be savage and stupid.
"Quit your chuckling, little elfling." Durgash reached out, grabbing Legolas' face. He cruelly squeezed the prince's chin, forcing him to make eye contact. "They'll have their turn when I'm finished, and not a moment before!"
He hit Legolas across the face, chuckling at the way blond hair flew through the air. It was sticky with cum, but still a radiant beacon of the grace and beauty of the elves. That was what made it such a target for the orcs. The beast struck out again, just to watch it fly.
Legolas tasted blood on his tongue, and his jaw ached where he had been hit. He was exhausted, and could feel a dull heat settling in his belly. He didn't know what that meant, but he didn't have time to figure it out. The orc fucking him picked up speed, and Legolas cried out in pain. He clenched up desperately in panic, and Durgash's pace stuttered for a moment.
"You had best loosen up, whore-prince." the beast snarled, digging his nails into Legolas' battered hips. "We have no qualms with simply cutting out new holes to fuck."
Legolas stared in horror, his nostrils flaring as he fought the terror threatening to spill forth from his lips. He didn't have long to consider the threat before Durgash was fucking him with renewed vigor. The creature grunted, and Legolas' entire body jerked as the invading cock jumped inside him. Nausea broiled up inside his stomach, burning and thick as it made its way up his throat.
Durgash pulled away, and a long string of semen and blood swung from his cock. The sight was enough to turn Legolas' stomach, and he vomited watery bile onto the ground. Durgash laughed.
"I hope you don't think we're done with you, little elf," he sneered.
Legolas felt cold. He wanted to cry, scream, and fight. But his limbs were heavy, and the pain was making him dizzy. He gasped as more hot, sweaty hands grasped his bruised flesh. He was dragged backwards, and another orc shoved its way inside of him. It didn't even flinch when he screamed in pain.
"Can boy elves bear children?" It asked. "I want to make it swollen with orc spawn."
Legolas shuddered at the thought. He failed to correct the orcs as they bickered about whether or not he could be impregnated. They began to use him more steadily, lining up for a chance to spill their filthy seed into his body. The others quickly grew impatient, and began to get rough with his hair once again. One grew bored of the games, and guided its cock towards the elf's face. It shoved two fingers into Legolas' mouth, daring him to bite down.
"Keep that pretty mouth open, or I'll rip out your teeth." It threatened. Satisfied by the fear in the elf's eyes, it shoved its cock forward.
Legolas clenched his eyes shut. His chest shuddered in fear and revulsion as something hot and spongy pressed against his lips and pushed through to his mouth. Bitter, salty, foul tastes washed down his throat, and he began to gag violently.
"Oh, he likes it." One of the orcs cackled. "The elf prince knows how to suckle on an orc cock!"
While the others roared with laughter, the orc above Legolas began rocking its hips back and forth in a terribly quick rhythm. Tears slipped from the prince's eyes as the orc continued its assault. He knew more of their fluids were being spent across his cheeks and hair, and it was all he could do not to vomit again. Everywhere his gaze fled, he was met with the sight of another orc pawing at itself and slobbering over him.
Another orc came inside him and unceremoniously pulled away, its member glistening with cum and blood. Legolas felt a hand wrap around his cock, and he flinched, trying to twist away from the touch.
"How does one please an elf princess with this?" The orc asked, squeezing until the elf managed to gurgle around the cock in his mouth. "Maybe I should just cut it off. You'd look pretty with a slit between your legs."
"Let me have a turn with him." Another orc snarled. "I want a hole to stick my prick into."
Legolas began to shake, and the orcs laughed as they passed him around. In their eyes, he was naught but a piece of meat, his body used, abused and broken. He didn't have the energy to protest any longer, and the hands holding him up were the only thing keeping him from collapsing in a boneless heap on the ground. He felt like a child in the midst of the larger creatures, and their cruel words and laughter made his ears burn with shame. There was no dignity to be found. He was naked and covered in filth, and the orcs were having a marvelous time.
Legolas choked as a cock was forced down his throat. He could barely breathe, and the foul smelling monster held his face for several seconds before pulling back. This time, the elf managed to keep himself from choking on the mangled member filling his throat. He was rewarded with a spray of warm, putrid liquid across his face, and he squeezed his eyes shut as his face was coated in orc spunk.
It wasn't long before another creature took advantage of his empty mouth, cutting off his breathing with rapid, uncaring thrusts and adding to the mess of spit, blood, and cum that was rapidly covering his upper body. Legolas went numb, barely moving as he was pushed and pulled around like a doll. The cruel touches and foul words washed over him like a raging river, so thick and suffocating that he simply flattened beneath them. There was no fight left in his once-proud spirit.
The orcs didn't notice. They took their turn with the broken elf, and laughed as their seed spilled from his torn ass and mouth. His eyes were glassy, and his movements had grown weak and slow. They were still excited, and eager for more, but the sun was beginning to set, and they had work to do.
Legolas could barely move as they finally released him. He lay on the ground, his limbs spread like a dead man's. He could taste blood, and he felt filthy and broken. The chains around his wrists rattled as he struggled to pull himself into a pathetic ball of bruised flesh and protect what little decency he could still find. Everything between his legs throbbed and ached, and he whimpered when he tried to roll onto his side. He had no strength to flee, or fight, or even plead. He could barely see, his vision swimming and blurry. The many hits to his face and head had caught up with him and he felt truly weak for the first time in his long life.
"Don't look so down, princess," a voice crooned. Legolas felt a hand petting his head, and the creature grabbed his hair and tilted his head back. It was Durgash, the largest and most foul of the monsters. "We'll be back tomorrow, and we'll give you some more of the same. I hope you've enjoyed the experience, because you're going to be getting it often from now on."
They left the crude prison, rattling chains as they locked the door behind them. The air grew still in the deep cave, and darkness settled in. There was a small crag in the rock up ahead, enough that the last rays of evening shone through in a fire-red streak across the wall. The shape of it drew dark pictures from Legolas' mind, showing him visions of further torment and humiliation. The inky darkness only grew as night fell, and the illusion solidified into a mist that snarled and growled black speech in his ear.
The prince of Mirkwood lay upon the floor, naked and shivering. He tried not to think of what would happen the next day, or the day after. He tried not to think of how his father would mourn him, and the terrible fate that would surely befall his beloved Greenwood. He tried not to think of the filth he could feel seeping into his wounds, and the shame burning a hole in his gut.
Most of all, he tried not to think of his accursed longevity. He would survive for so long, withering away beneath his captor's hands until every last scrap of his soul was soiled. It would be long, and painful, and he would beg for a quicker death before long. There was no escape from the horrors in his future. He had no strength, and his captors would be back before long. They would take him and use him, and there was little hope of rescue.
Legolas could feel a lump growing in his throat, and his eyes were burning. The tears fell freely, and he did nothing to stop them. He sobbed into his arms, his shoulders shaking.
"Ada..." he whimpered, dissolving into broken pleas as the very last of the sun's light left his cell and took his innocence with it.