A/N: I had the idea for this story while I was writing 'Prisoner of War,' so please forgive the similarities in the earlier chapters. They'll be gone by chapter 4, latest, and the story will hopefully be one that's very different. Anyhoo, enjoy!
Orcs
Pippin woke. At least, he thought they did. It was so hard to tell dreams from reality now. It was all a nightmare. He could hear voices – harsh, cruel, bitter voices arguing about... something or another. He couldn't discern their voices. His head still pounded from whatever had happened to him. Suddenly, mingled with the voices came a very familiar voice, although the venom in it was not so familiar.
"Back off!" snapped the voice.
Pippin opened his eyes slowly. He didn't want to see what awaited him when they did. But eventually, he mastered his child-like fear, and regretted it instantly.
He was sitting in the middle of an orc camp.
Only, most of the orcs had their attention focused on something in the middle of the camp. The remainder... were focused on food.
Pippin could only hope that he wouldn't be the one who commanded the attention of the orcs by sitting in pieces on a plate.
There seemed to be a lot of commotion going on in the middle of the camp. Pippin's vision was blurry, but he could make out that somebody was standing in the middle of a ring of orcs.
"Why did you insist on bringing it, Lurtz?" he heard one of the orcs say.
"Well, I thought he might have information!" snapped the orc called Lurtz. "I've seen 'im before. I've fought him in the forest. I know who 'e is!"
"As I recall, when I fought you, you ran away, just like the coward you are," the person in the middle said, and Pippin's heart dropped like a stone as he recognised that voice.
Legolas.
"Shut it!" snapped Lurtz, and they heard a loud crack. Pippin saw through a small break in the orcs' circle that Legolas had staggered, his hand clutching his fair cheek. The orc he suspected was Lurtz was standing in the centre, his hand raised high in the air.
"ENOUGH!" yelled a second orc, who was much larger than Lurtz, as he marched past the elf and stopped about ten centimetres from the orc's face. "So tell me why you caught him, or I swear on the staff of my master that this will be the last minute you ever live!"
"He's the son of the king of Mirkwood!"
"It's Greenwood," snarled Legolas from the ground. "It never has been and it never will be Mirkwood!"
The orcs ignored him. "Son of the king of Mirkwood, eh?" said the second orc. "He sent you on your suicidal mission, hm?"
"My suicidal mission to do what, exactly?" Legolas asked him, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. He knew that his mission was probably going to lead to his death, but he wasn't certain the orcs did, and he had spotted an opportunity to figure out just how much they knew.
Lurtz laughed. "Did you tell your daddy where you were going?"
The second orc joined the laughter. Legolas gave a feral growl from his throat.
"What's that?" said the second orc. "You did? Good, then your death won't come as much of a shock to him."
With that, the second orc raised his sword, and Pippin gave a cry of despair that was drowned by the collective laughter of all the orcs in the circle. However, Legolas was too quick for them. Throwing his weight onto one arm, he swept his legs round, catching the orc's, and the second orc tumbled to the ground. Legolas immediately launched himself onto the second orc and the pair wrestled over the sword for a few moments. Legolas, triumphant, raised the blade and was about to deal the deathly blow when an orcish bow sung. An arrow caught the elf's wrist and the knife fell to the floor. The second orc picked up his sword and pointed it at Legolas' throat.
"You appear to be labouring under the delusion that I fear death," Legolas said coldly. "I fear it no more than I fear you."
"So you fear it a lot then?" Lurtz snapped. "Well, it's your lucky day. We'll take him to my master. Along with the two Halflings."
"Your master?" sneered a third orc. "May I remind you that Saruman still serves my master. We'll take the prisoners to the Dark Lord, and maybe, if Saruman still wants to hear what they have to say, he can come in shackles."
"Grishnákh, I would advise you to think very carefully about your next words," snarled the bigger orc, who still had his sword to Legolas' throat. "Because they might be the last words you ever utter."
"Uglúk, let me remind you that you have no authority over me," Grishnákh said, drawing his own sword.
Uglúk's sword suddenly left Legolas' throat and slammed into Grishnákh's. Legolas used this opportunity to remove the arrow from his hand and get to his feet.
Surprisingly, with these particular orcs, size wasn't everything, and Grishnákh had Uglúk on the floor, the point of his sword hovering over where Uglúk's heart must have been.
"I guess that settles it, then," Grishnákh said triumphantly. "We take the captives to Mordor."