Chapter Text
My first conscious thought is that maybe my skull had cracked open. My head throbs in pain as I stir awake.
I groan and find myself lying on cold, sticky ground. Have I woken up in yet another pile of shit? I've had enough of the Powers That Be picking on me this way but at this point, I can't even distinguish between animal shit from orc stink.
No, not orcs.
I made the mistake of calling them that once.
"Let me go! Let me go, you stupid, oversized orc!" I screeched, kicking my captor the moment I came back to my senses, bile rising in my throat and anger boiling through my veins at the thought of Boromir, kneeling on the ground, his chest riddled with arrows and his fingers stretched out to mine.
We were running. Or rather, the orcs were. Me and the two hobbits were riding piggy-back, hands tied. I could never get used to the foul odor of orc, but there I was, gagging from both dizziness, guilt and the stench of the orcs.
No, not orcs.
"We are Uruk-Hai, and you better remember that next time, little whore."
"Can't tell the difference, honestly. You're all ugly me." Which was what earned me the split lip via head butt that now stung like a bitch and another concussion. The fact that my lips are chapped and dry and I keep biting it whenever the Uruk moves excessively does not help with the pain. Neither does the double vision I get from being exposed to even the smallest amount of light.
Add to that the fact that it had been a day and my shoulder is now swollen from the Uruk's bite during the ambush in Amon Hen. They didn't even bother to wrap it, just splashed water on me, clothes and all, and while I was still unconscious from my first blow to the head, so Pippin informed me. I woke up with a foul-smelling, brown paste slathered on the wound, which burnt first before it felt completely numb. At the time I woke up and found it, I thought that it was infected.
And now here I am, lying in mud. They deliberately left their hostages in the middle of a pile of mud. I'm too tired to even sit up. It was nearing night, and they had stopped for camp. Raised voices from the orcs and Uruk-Hai means that they're arguing. They never stop arguing, it seems, but I'm not complaining. In fact, I'm thankful for that. It means their focus is on their infighting rather than every little move their prisoners made.
"Ellie?" Pippin whispers beside me.
"Pip." I whisper back, sitting up. The effort to even sit up is too much. Every part of my body ached, my head is screaming in agony and my shoulder is throbbing. Not to mention my arms, legs and ankles are hopelessly tied with rope, basically cutting out the circulation to my wrists and feet.
I do not want to think about what I'd have to do when I need to pee, or worse, when my period starts. I don't want to think about it. At this rate, I don't even think I'll live long enough to have my next period. All I can think is, Thank God my period stopped before we reached Amon Hen. At least I have one more month before I have to worry about it.
"I need to..." Pippin squirms, uncomfortably.
"Can you hold it?" I ask, figuring out what was wrong immediately while Merry's head falls on his shoulder. Merry is either sleeping or unconscious. I scoot closer to them.
Pippin shakes his head, his desperation clear in his eyes.
"What are you two whispering about here?"
The hairs on my arm stand on end. The Uruk-Hai have terrifying voices. A mixture between an animalistic growl and a human voice. Their snarls invoke fear itself deep into my heart.
I decide to bite my tongue, though I have several choice words for this asshole. 'Fuck' and 'you' being the most important ones, in that order.
"What did you do to him?" I demand, motioning to Merry.
"The little rat couldn't keep his mouth shut. We shut him up." The Uruk-Hai is positively giddy. Its gnarled, ugly face contorts into what can only be a sneer as he exposes his row of yellow, razor-sharp teeth. These are the moments in which I fondly miss toothpaste.
"Here." It throws something hard at me, and then at Pippin. Whatever it is falls on my lap, a lump of white something. It looks like clay and smells like clay. I therefore conclude that it's clay.
"What am I supposed to do with this?" I ask, genuinely stupefied as I take the clay. Is this supposed to be my new past-time when they're not dragging us around?
"You eat it."
Assuming I'd actually want to eat clay, I don't trust anything they tell us to put in our mouths. The diseases I could get just from an orc's touch already concerns me. I'm not putting anything that they've held in my mouth.
"You call this food?" I snap. The Uruk growls loudly, and it leans down to my face, making me yelp and lean back. Nothing could have prepared me for the stench of his breath, which is strongly reminiscent of dead rats.
"You eat it yourself, or I feed it to you. Along with various other things I can think of to stuff in your pretty little mouth to shut you up." It said, coldly, bits of spit spraying against my cheek and my blood runs cold. I draw away from it, instinctively, feeling violated.
I take in short gasps of air, but I force my expression to remain stony. The Uruk draws back to see the look on my face, and laughs harshly. He knows I'm terrified. He feeds off fear. As the only woman here, I know there's every possibility that they'll do what every woman is terrified of, and I know these vile creatures are capable of anything.
"You wouldn't dare. I will kill you myself, with my bare hands if need be. And if you decide to kill me instead, Saruman will punish you for bringing a girl's useless dead body to him." It's the only weapon I have against any of them, now that they've stripped me of my sword, throwing knives and bow. I assume the only reason I'm still alive is because they need me to be. They keep talking about 'the Wizard, Saruman', and how he needs me and the hobbits for information. I suspect that's the only reason they haven't done much other than push us around.
That I'm grateful that they only beat us up is a testament to how desperate our situation is. I would much rather the Uruk-Hai focus on me, the troublesome human girl with the big mouth, so they wouldn't notice the hobbits. Without the others, I'm bringing it upon myself to be responsible for Merry and Pippin's safety. I know what they're looking for. I know why they want Merry and Pippin, even though I suspect most of them don't know why they're keeping prisoners themselves, and hell would have to freeze over before I make it any easier for the Enemy to know anything about the Ring.
The Uruk grabs me by my hair and forces my head up so I could look him in the eye. "You are in no position to be making threats to me, bitch. One more word out of your mouth and I will--"
"Please." Pippin squeaks. The Uruk turns to his direction with a snarl and I gasp in pain as his hold on my hair tightens.
"I need to..." Pippin begged.
A look of malice spreads on the Uruk's features.
"Need to what? Say it, boy."
"I need to go to the woods."
The Uruk-Hai throws me aside to torment poor Pippin instead.
"Why go anywhere when you can do your business right there?" The Uruk sneers. Pippin gives me a look of desperation. My mind whirls. I don't know what to do. I could try to distract the Uruk but that would do nothing but only further anger the damn beast. If I delay, Pippin would have to hold it in, and that could lead to a far worse situation when he's no longer capable of holding it.
"What's going on here?" A deeper snarl.
The Uruk bullying Pippin looks up.
"The little rat needs to go to the woods."
"Then take him! I will not let them be infected with sickness and bring them to Saruman barely breathing. Or will you be their nurse?" The other snarls. The Uruk tormenting Pippin snarls as well.
"And take the other two as well. This will be their only rest stop for the night." The larger Uruk says. Gee, how considerate of them.
Before I can stop myself, I whimper. The Uruk in front of me cuts off the ropes on my legs and ankles, and another does the same to Pippin. One of them kicks Merry until he's roused from his sleep and we're dragged all the way to the edge of the creepy Forest we've been camping next to. Why is it so hot in here all of a sudden?
There's nothing more undignified than having to pull my leggings down while five Uruks surrounded me, not even bothering to hide the fact that they're staring, indeed, are waiting for me to pull my leggings down.
I glare at them all stubbornly. I'm not going to give them the satisfaction. They're not going to bring me any lower. My fists clench together. God, if only I could punch one of them. Just once, for Boromir.
I find myself begging God to bring us a miracle, and all I can think about is where Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Frodo and Sam might be. The thought of my friends brings a surge of fire through my body. They had their journey. They had their challenges. Mine is here, as a woman, surrounded by enemies, protecting the people I care about. I will not show weakness. My expression hardens as I stare at the Uruks. I am not going to give them the pleasure of watching me humiliate myself by undressing in front of them. They can keep on dreaming.
Merry and Pippin, not missing a beat, forms a protective barrier around me. It was their own rebellion. Their brand of quiet bravery as they stand up for a friend. They are small, child-sized, but I'm thankful for their effort. The Uruks around us growl in annoyance, and I retreat into the shadow of a tree, grateful for any privacy as I do my business. Afterwards, we are dragged back to camp like we are merely sacks.
"We are not going to carry you around, so don't get used to it. Tomorrow, you will run, and you will regret you ever had legs." One of the Uruk-Hai says as it pulls tight at the rope it was tying around my legs and ankles.
I glare at it, making sure to inject as much hatred as I could into the glare. If only looks could kill. Or, better yet, if I could just get my hands on a sword...
I'm snapped back to reality by someone yanking my hair back and forcing a warm, foul-smelling, bitter liquid into my mouth. I choke and gag, spitting the liquid out.
"What? Are you not thirsty?" The Uruk taunts as it pulls away and I retch. Jesus, and I thought the ale in Bree was bad! It wakes me up immediately, though. The dizziness and blurred vision I've been experiencing vanish immediately. Whatever I drunk, it has the effect of brandy, heating my cheeks and belly, however much it churned. The texture is similar to pig's blood. All my time spent helping the Fellowship butcher animals for our meals during our travels made me all too aware of what animal blood looks like.
I didn't even want to think about what that was.
When the Uruk-Hai finally leave us alone by tying us together, Merry, Pippin and I assess the damage.
"I want to strangle them." Is the first thing I say as I lean back against the boulder were were unceremoniously dropped on.
"Merry?" Pippin turns to his cousin, and my expression softens as she I see Merry, his head already lolling to the side, weak and injured.
"I'm alright, Pip." He whispers, although I can see he's anything but. He's probably sick, or his concussion is even worse than hers. He caught my eye, and I know then that he's not okay. His face is pale, and he's shivering, despite being forced to drink the Uruk-Hai wine or brandy or whatever it was.
Merry silently pleads with me, begging with his eyes not to say anything to make Pippin worry further.
"I can manage." Merry said, looking directly at my eyes.
My eyebrows furrow in concern, but one glance at Pippin's wide eyes and I give in. He already looked so frightened. There was no need to burden him. I scoot closer to the two Hobbits, "Alright. Sleep, then." I say and Merry reaches out. His small hand rests in mine while his other hand held Pippin's. We are each other's rocks. We pull our strength from each other. And I'd be damned before I let anything harm the two gentle hobbits with me. They've known me almost as long as Aragorn did. They were with me from the beginning, and I've grown to care for them a lot. They're my family, now, and I never let anything harm my family.
"I wish Strider was here." Pippin says as he leans on Merry.
"So do I." I whisper. Aragorn would know what to do. But Aragorn isn't with us, although I hope he and the others are alive. Anything else is unthinkable. I can't bring myself to be pessimistic. Instead, I harden myself. I have to make Aragorn proud. I have to prove it wasn't a mistake to let me join the Fellowship. I might have needed him a few months ago, but now someone else needs me. I will not break down. Not when me and my friends are surrounded by foul creatures ready to cut us open or worse. No, the three of us will hold fast, stay together, be there for each other. I won't allow Saruman's minions to break us, even if it was our last days.
A ruckus grows louder nearby, and the three of us look up to see what's happening. One of the Uruk-Hai, Uglúk, is yelling at a smaller orc who calls himself Grishnákh, and weapons are being drawn. They're arguing about what to do with us and who the real leader is. Our guards, who had been taunting us before, are part of the group standing behind Uglúk. One of the orcs stumbles backwards and trips over Merry's leg, while another gets sliced down and falls on our laps. I kick the thing off with a disgusted grunt. And kick it again for good measure.
In the end, the Uruk-Hai wins the fight. We are to be taken to Isengard, and be at the Wizard Saruman's mercy. I don't know what's worse. To be tortured and die at the hands of these cruel orcs, or to be tortured and die at the hands of Saruman, the Wizard who has betrayed the people I respect most. Who betrayed Middle-earth itself. A man who would stoop that low was cruel and bitter, even for one who served the Enemy.
I know now that we're being taken to certain death. But I am a survivor. I have never been the one to go down without a fight. I'll show these creatures just how stubborn a New Yorker can be.
Until my last dying breath.