A/N I want to thank horseyyay AKA Morgoth and Pip the Dark Lord of All for taking the time out to help me outline this and to Eldhoron for his dream that sparked the idea for me to write this. I also want to make it very clear I love Thranduil, and this is by no means a hate story towards him.

The battle at Dol Guldur had been lost. Thranduil and his army had fought long and hard, but it was to no avail. Lady Galadriel was supposed to have met Thranduil at the borders of Dol Guldur but had failed to show up, leaving Thranduil to fight the enemy alone. Thranduil knew Galadriel wouldn't just abandon him without warning so he could only assume she had been delayed or attacked herself. However, the forces were too strong and too many for his comparatively small army, and they had been overthrown within a short period. At first, it seemed like they were going to win, but as quickly as things were going his way they dissipated, for Sauron's forces unleashed a hidden league of warg riders and Uruk-hai upon the Elvenking and it did not take long for him to fall.

As Thranduil and what was left of his warriors were being taken to the orc's leader, Thranduil could not help but think about his Greenleaf. Was he still safe in Rivendell, and would the enemy use this as an opportunity to lure his son into a trap and annihilate the last of his line? Thranduil tried to clear his mind of those thoughts. It did not matter now. He knew that soon he would be reunited with his wife in the Undying Lands and his people – or what was left of them – would have to either learn to cope without a king if his son never made it back alive or they would have to find a new home and leader.

Thranduil was brought out of his thoughts as he was thrown roughly to the hard floor before the feet of a hideous orc. "We have brought you the king of Mirkwood Ushnorg,"one of the orcs growled.

This must be their leader, Thranduil thought to himself.

Ushnorg sneered, revealing his long crooked canines upon seeing the newly brought prisoners. "So you are the mighty King Thranduil?" he snarled, crossing his arms over his chest. "I heard so much about you and how you were supposedly undefeatable. I must admit I am quite disappointed. I had hoped for a more exceptional fight from you," he tutted, his red eyes narrowing as he leaned closer to investigate his new prize.

Thranduil held his head high, refusing to give this monster the satisfaction of seeing him brought to such a low level of defeat. If he were going to be tortured or killed, he would go with whatever dignity and honor he had left, and he knew his people would also do the same.

As if he could sense Thranduil's defiance Ushnorg laughed. "You think you are strong, don't you? Well, we will see just how strong you are once I am through with you. I guarantee before I am done, you will be begging for mercy!"

Thranduil felt a shiver run down his spine. What did he have planned for him? No matter, he thought to himself, I will not beg for mercy like some weakling, despite what he thinks.

Ushnorg commanded his orcs to line up the remainder of the Elvenking's troops and to hang Thranduil up by his wrists facing his people. The orcs snickered as they forcefully dragged him over to a beam and tied his hands above his head. When he had been tied, and his people lined up, Ushnorg walked over and stood behind, his face inches from Thranduil's ear. "You are probably wondering what I am going to do?" Ushnorg hissed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I am planning on making you suffer the worst way imaginable – by making you watch your troops die one by one and then," he paused, walking in front of Thranduil, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at him. "I am slowly going to torture you before bringing you back to extinguish your life in front of your people. Then once you have been dealt with, I will finish off the rest of your people." Ushnorg watched the king's face to see if he would get any reaction. Receiving none, he snarled and then forcing the king to look at his men, gave a curt order.

Thranduil could not hold back a strangled scream as one by one the orcs drew knives across his soldiers' throats, their blood seeping into the soil. When the last elf had been killed, Ushnorg ordered the bodies to be piled and torched. As Thranduil watched the bodies of his warriors slowly burning he had no time to grieve as another orc came from behind him clutching a spiked whip. With a sneer, he began to viciously flog him, relentlessly ripping chunks of his flesh off. Thranduil tried to hold back his screams of pain, but as each lash hit him, he began to break down. He remembered Ushnorg's words from earlier: "I guarantee you before I am done, you will be begging for mercy!" But Thranduil forced himself not to give in.

After several minutes of being whipped, Ushnorg gave the signal for the orc to stop. Thranduil was barely conscious, but before he could fall into unconsciousness, he saw another orc coming at him with a metal rod. The beast began to beat him breaking several of his bones. Thranduil bit down on his tongue, crying out in his mind for the pain to cease. Whenever he lost consciousness, Ushnorg would have a lackey throw a bucket of cold water over his head, bringing him back only to be bludgeoned once again. Thranduil had no idea how long this endless torture had gone on for, but finally, Ushnorg deemed he had had enough and cut his bonds, causing Thranduil to fall to the ground with a loud thump.

Ushnorg walked over to the once mighty King of the Woodland Halls and with his spiked boot, turned the king over onto his back with a kick. Thranduil's breathing was now labored, and he found he could barely keep his eyes open. "Don't think I am done with you yet, mighty King Thranduil," he spat. "Now that you are groomed to be brought before your subjects, we will be leaving but first…" Ushnorg bent down and put a crude collar around the king's neck which was attached to a chain, and when his hands were bound together, he forced Thranduil to stand and had all his clothes removed, stripping him of all his dignity. "Now we are ready to go and greet your people. I am sure they are anxious to see their king." Laughing he pushed a beaten and humiliated Thranduil towards Mirkwood.

Late evening had arrived when Thranduil and his captors approached the gates to his kingdom. As one of the orcs blew the horn – which had belonged to Feren – announcing their arrival, several elves joyously rushed out to greet their king. Expecting to be greeted by a victorious army they were instead met by several orcs leading their horrendously beaten and degraded king.

Not knowing what else to do Elros and several other guards lined up at the entrance as the last line of defense. They knew the chances of them keeping the enemy out was little to none, but they had to try. They had to at least attempt to protect the women and children inside.

Ushnorg sneered at their feeble attempt to keep them out. "Do you honestly think you can protect your people when your king and his army couldn't defeat us? You elven scum will learn soon enough what happens to those who dare oppose us!" Ushnorg threw Thranduil down causing him to hit the side of his head on a rock.

Hearing the horrified gasps from the remainder of his guard, Thranduil forced himself to sit up and looked at his people one last time. He might have been defeated in battle and beaten into a bloody mess and disgraced, but he would not let them see any fear in his eyes. He would die with his head held high. As Ushnorg came forward with his sword drawn, he looked at the elves with a triumphant expression. "I bring you your king!" With one strike Ushnorg smote the head right off of Thranduil and watched it roll to the feet of the elven guards.

Elros looked on with horror and disbelief at what just happened: their king was dead. In one final act of defiance against the enemy, Elros led the last of Thranduil's warriors in an attack to avenge their king. Ushnorg boomed the order to attack and quickly crushed what little of the guard that was left. He wasted no time in breaking the gates and picking up the head of the king, and placing it on a pike he stormed in.

When they had entered into the halls, the women and children had quickly been gathered by the orcs. They had been so caught off guard it didn't take long for them to be overtaken. Ushnorg brought forth the head of their king and began parading it around in front of them. The cries and screams from the womenfolk and offspring were like sweet music to his ears. When he finished making an example of Thranduil he had some his orcs pour tar all throughout the halls and locking the gates, he then set it ablaze making sure none could escape.

"I want you to set up archers at all entrances and kill any that escape!" Ushnorg commanded one of his commanders. As he heard the screams of terror emerging from inside the burning fortress, he began to laugh. Never again would his kind be cut down by Thranduil or any of his kin, and to make sure no one would ever try to rebuild this now fallen kingdom, he stuck the head of the now dead King outside of the blazing walls as a warning to all who came near.