Disclaimer: Sadly, I own only Raewyn. (But I am married to Gollum. And Smeagol.Schwa!)
Raewyn stopped and stared across the bleak plains of one of the remotest corners of Rohan. "It wouldn't be wise to stop here for tonight," she murmured. "No cover at all." It had been five years since her banishment from the golden woods of Lorien, and her heart still ached when she thought of it. For a moment, Raewyn closed her eyes and thought of the elves' singing, of the silvery boughs on which she had once slept. In that short instant, she almost imagined herself back to her home. But when she opened her eyes again, she once again saw the harsh reality of her situation.
Disowned and unwanted, Raewyn found herself alone on a forsaken plain, with nothing but the clothes on her back, a few weapons, and her ever-faithful horse. Her long black hair—matted and greasy from years of neglect—whipped her ruddy cheek as she abruptly turned around. Raewyn scanned the monotonous horizon. A small black dot was materializing on the skyline—and it was drawing closer. "Uruks," she muttered. "Their stench is distinguishable from miles away." Raewyn chewed her bottom lip. She had two choices. Wait and fight. Result: most likely death. Flee. Result: run into another band of Mordor's agents and die. Seems my possible results are fairly narrowed. Raewyn picked the first.
She narrowed her large steel-grey eyes at the horizon. Oddly enough, there were only perhaps ten or fifteen in this particular group. I could do that. They were much closer now. Raewyn acted on impulse. She pulled out an arrow and fitted it to her long bow. One down. They were only about four or five hundred feet away from her now…She frantically reached for arrows, hoping that she'd fight as little of them hand-to-hand as possible. Now only about five of them stood—and they weren't happy. They charged towards Raewyn, who drew her sword. In seconds, sword met sword in a fiery, metallic union. She gasped for breath as her blade ruthlessly came down upon the neck of an orc. She slashed at his hamstrings, and then plunged the sword into his belly. Yanking the weapon out of his gut, she whirled around, where yet another orc awaited, his heavy battle-ax drawn. Raewyn rushed at him in a fury, but he easily dodged nearly every one of her advances. The ax came down—she barely escaped in time, and she felt the cold rush of air whoosh by her ear. The momentum of the orc's blow sent him hurtling forward. She seized the opportunity and neatly sliced his head off his shoulders. Finally, Raewyn was alone on the plains once more.
Then the sound of an orc horn screamed through the cold air. Raewyn gasped. She had no choice but to keep fighting. The second group of Orcs and Uruks that now charged towards her had at least a hundred members. "I'm so stupid. Those were scouts. I'm going to die," Raewyn whispered. She closed her eyes for a moment, and then she reached for her bow. Her swift arrows met their marks, but there were too many of them. Raewyn took her sword in her sticky, blood-covered hand. Her heart beat faster as the group neared, and they were but yards away now.
She rushed at them. The first blow hewed open the neck of an Uruk and his ugly head tilted backwards, the gaping wound in his throat spewing black blood. Raewyn took short, ragged breaths. One of the Orcs hurled a dagger at her, the dull black iron tearing through the tender flesh of her arm. Raewyn bit back her screams of agony, instead yanking the short knife out and throwing it into the seemingly ever-increasing mass coming towards her. Her teeth clenched down so hard on her lips that she could taste the salty, metallic blood.
Just then, Raewyn felt the serrated edge of an Uruk blade against her cold neck. She clenched her teeth, waiting for the sword to mercilessly slash across her throat. Instead, she felt a sharp claw pull aside a strand of her limp, matted hair. "A she-elf," the Uruk growled. "Let's not kill this one yet. But she'll wish she's dead, won't she boys?"
Still keeping the blade fixed upon her, he signaled a horribly mutilated Orc to take away her weapons. Then it began. They tore apart her beloved horse—devouring chunks of the meat raw. She watched as one orc slashed open the horse's stomach, groping inside the bloody cavities, and yanking out the rich intestines. Raewyn squeezed her eyes shut as the orc brought the gory flesh to his filthy lips. The others took over, clawing open the still-rearing mare's neck, and greedily drinking the spurts of rich, warm blood. Raewyn could taste salty fluid on her lips, but whether it was the horse's blood or her own, she could not tell.
Then they turned on Raewyn. The Uruk who had gotten Raewyn first, who she assumed was an overseer, carried a thick, knotted whip. She closed her eyes as the heavy leather strips beat against her back. "I'm bored," whined one of the Orcs who stood nearby. "Go ahead," said the Uruk. "Just make sure you don't kill her." Two of the Orcs rushed at her, slashing wildly with their blunt daggers. Raewyn clenched her eyes shut and raised her arms above her head in a futile attempt to stop the swinging blades. She screamed as the black iron bit into her tender cheek. All Raewyn could see was the group advancing towards her, wielding cudgels and more swords. An armored fist made contact with her eye socket, and Raewyn staggered backwards and collapsed to the bloodied ground, curled up into a ball. She slipped in and out of consciousness then, sometimes feeling the dull blows against her battered body, sometimes losing herself in a blissful darkness where the elves were once again singing to her. Raewyn was jerked to her senses—and to her pain—when the first Uruk roughly grabbed her by the neck and lifted her up from the ground.
"You should be thankful, she-elf," the creature leered. "We're not going to kill you." For a moment, heady relief flushed Raewyn, and was abruptly replaced by terror at the thought of what they were going to do. Then the Uruk laughed. "We're leaving you here to die, filth," he spat out. "Good-bye!" He threw her back down, chuckling as Raewyn's head struck the hard dirt.
They're gone. Raewyn thought. I'll be alright. Practicality, however, told her that she was wrong. No. He was right. I'm going to die here, alone. She For a moment, Raewyn clung to consciousness. I don't want to be asleep! I don't want to die! I want to live! Her arguments were drowned out by a sea of blackness.
Please please pretty please with a cherry on top review! (By the way, flames are fine; I like playing with fire.)