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“So, little warrior.” Sauron chuckled darkly, smirking at the captured elf brought before his throne. “You killed my men until you yourself were caught like a rabbit in my snare.”
Ice blue eyes stared into the fallen Maia’s. “Let me go.”
“Why should I do that? You fancy yourself a hero? I am Lord of Mordor, little rabbit.”
The warrior spat at Sauron. “Unhand me.”
“Razanir.” Sauron gestured to one of his Easterlings. “Show our little rabbit we mean business.”
Razanir drew his knife. A golden warrior braid fell to the ground.
“No more games - Prince Thranduil.”
Thranduil paled, shuddering.