Chapter 11: Regrets

Dru whimpered when she felt the familiar tug at her hair, but when she was forced to look back up, she bit down on her lip to stifle the sound. She was willing herself not to give Azog any more pleasure than he'd already taken from her pain. Her body felt broken and he'd only just started playing with her.

Being forced onto her knees and bound against the pillar wasn't too bad. Even with the rope cutting into her wrists and ankles, she could put up with. The small amount of armour she'd kept had been stripped from her and the remnants of her tunic pulled away so her chest was bare, her sleeves hanging from her elbows.

But having her arms pulled back around the stone taught and with little room for her to move forward had her in a position she didn't ever want to be in. She was open and defenceless against Azog and he could see her expressions and every minuscule twitch in her face as she tried to will the pain away.

Her first scream had come when Azog had broken her little finger.

He'd knelt in front of her, smiling as he reached forward. His hand disappeared from her view, but she felt it clasp her fingers together. Squeezing. It hurt but she breathed through the pain. She even spat in his face. That had been her mistake.

His grip shifted and he took hold of her little finger. She couldn't move away and her eyes widened in horror as he slowly bent it backwards.

She'd shut her eyes and she grit her teeth, willing herself to be strong. He was slow as he stretched her back as far as she could go, her bones and muscle resisting. And then, he'd jerked it so suddenly, forcing it farther back, she couldn't contain her scream. She thrashed her head around and waited for the pain to cease as her bones were snapped out of place.

He let her go, bringing his hand back to the front and his grip suddenly came to her chin, grabbing at her hair and braids. He tugged her forward and she opened her eyes to glare at him, tears streaming down her face.

He'd smiled and promised to do that to the rest of her later. He'd enjoyed her scream immensely.

When he'd slowly looked over her, his razor-sharp fingernail had lightly traced over the scars of her face, before slowly lowering to her breast. She'd whimpered as he cupped her scarred flesh in his grasp and chuckled.

"I see you've had a run in with one our pets before."

He'd leant in closer to her, his mouth close to her ear as he continued talking.

"Let me introduce you to my one. I believe you killed their cousin on the cliff that night. Remember? You brought your hammer down and smashed their brains out."

A familiar growl to her side caused her eyes to snap open and she turned, the terror filling her heart at the sight of a warg right by her face. She could feel its hot breath against her skin and its eyes bore into her.

She tried to turn away, but Azog's hand was atop of her head and forced her to turn back to the creature. His hand came over her brow and pulled it up, forcing her to watch as his creature came closer to her.

It stopped growling long enough to press its snout against her cheek and she felt it's rough, wet tongue roll out, licking her slowly from her chin to her cheek. Its saliva clung to her as she felt its jaws open and she waited for the moment of the bite.

"Not yet."

Azog pushed the Warg away suddenly, the creature whining at his master's rough shove. It skulked away hastily, not even glancing back at Dru. She almost felt sorry for the creature, but her heart was beating so fast in her chest and she tried to steady her breathing, quelling the panic she felt.

When he'd moved away from her and relinquished his grasp on her head, she sighed in relief, glad for the respite he was allowing her. Her finger, chin and head were throbbing from where he'd focused his attention. She could have passed out for all the time that seemed to pass, though the pain seemed to take her mind off of the passing minutes.

Her moment was interrupted however when he appeared in front of her again. And this time, when she looked up, it wasn't his face she was looking at. Her attention was drawn to the blazing, red hot metal of his sword. He'd stuck it over a flame and waited until it was hot enough for it to glow a bright orange.

He slowly brought it forward, Dru trying to turn her head away as he placed it at the level of her eye. She could feel how hot it was. She shut her eyes and tried desperately to turn her thoughts to something else.

'Mam. Thorin. Kili. Fili. Balin. Dwalin.'

She felt the heat move south, so close as it traced the old scars of her cheeks and lips, moving past her chin.

'Bilbo. Gandalf. Bofur. Bombur. Bifur.'

The heat paused momentarily over the centre of her throat and she shuddered, despite the heat. It kept moving over her naked form and towards her scarred flesh.

'Ori. Nori. Dori. Oin-'

The scream left her lips before she could even register where the heat was. Azog had pressed the tip of his blade against one of her scars and slowly dragged from one side to the other. He was cutting her open again and cauterising her at the same time. Branding her.

She thrashed violently and tugged at the rope, desperately looking for some purchase. She cried out, her dignity and pride forgot as he trailed along her scarred flesh.

Even when his blade came away, she still screamed. The scent of her burning flesh filled her nostrils and her eyes eventually opened when she dared to look down. There was little blood around the area, but the scars were now charred black. Her breathing quickened and it was that day so long ago again. The freshly injured flesh, throbbing in agony as she wailed.

She hadn't noticed him placing his sword into the mound of snow by them. Nor did she notice when he pressed the cool metal against her arm. She was still screaming as he quickly drew the blade against her skin. And then he did it again and again and she began to choke on her sobs. They were not deep enough to scar permanently, but they were small and they hurt and he didn't stop until her arms, chest and face were littered with tiny cuts. She had heard the term 'death by a thousand cuts' and had pondered on how one could die from such small cuts. At least now she knew the answer. She finally broke down.

"Please," she whimpered as the blade paused against her cheek, "please, stop."

She knew it was useless. But he'd paused long enough for her to draw in a couple of breaths before the blade pressed and slashed at her skin again.

He chuckled and knelt again to look at her. He waited for her eyes to look into his as she sobbed.

"I was wondering when you'd start begging."

He moved away again and she shut her eyes and began her mantra again in her head as she tried to get her focus on anything else, other than the pain.

'Oin. Gloin. Ori. Nori. Dori. Gandalf. Bilbo. Balin. Dwalin. Bofur. Bombur. Bifur. Thorin. Kili. Fili.'

Each face appeared when she called their name in her head and she sobbed when she saw soft, gentle blue eyes looking at her.

Footsteps came again and she began to whisper to herself, Fili's name a prayer on her tongue.

She didn't want to see what he had planned for her next and focused on Fili's name. It was the sudden pressure against her chest and windpipe that stopped her whispering. Her eyes fluttered open as she gasped for air and looked at the Orc guard stationed in front of her, Azog looming close behind. The guard's face was in front of hers and he stared at her as he pressed his full weight against her, his forearm between her throat and chest.

She couldn't get air in, nor out. She felt her tears falling anew and slowly, her strength fall away. She saw spots in her vision and the blackness creeping around.

It felt like an eternity and just when it seemed she was on the brink of slipping into consciousness, the pressure around her neck and throat moved away. She let in a few quacking, deep breaths. Her lungs were burning with exertion and her throat was raw from screaming. She saw him move away and stand again.

And then came Azog's his cruellest act thus far, signalling his guard to continue in the torture.

Before her breathing had returned to normal, a foot connected harshly with her lower stomach. The air left her lungs again and she cried out as he began a new assault, bringing his boot against her an uncountable number of times. When it felt like her stomach was ready to rupture, Azog signalled for the guard to stop and laughed. She heard him deeply inhale through his nose and exhale loudly through his mouth.

"Female blood is the sweetest fragrance."

Finally, her body had had enough. Her head fell forward and even as she cried and whimpered, her vision went black and she fell into unconsciousness. It was the sound of his boots coming closer again that woke her up. The fist on her face made her wish she hadn't. He hit her hard three times, on either side of her jaw and head. She would have thought Orcs would choose different methods of torture and punishment on their victims. But apparently, punching someone just for the sheer hell of it was also suitable.

Her face stung. She'd never wanted to fall back into the blackness so badly. To oblivion.

His hand returned to the top of her head and she looked back at Azog and she felt shattered. Broken. But she stopped crying. She didn't spit at him, but she sneered at him nonetheless.

"It seems we're running out of time. Your kin approaches. They've come to their deaths."

The fear she felt must have shown in her eyes because he smirked at her again.

"You are afraid for their lives? Good."

A selfish part of her was scared for herself and what he had planned. Death had scared her so many times before, but with everything that had just happened, she was more terrified at what fresh pain could be inflicted on her.

And now her family and friends were coming. To their deaths? To her rescue? Would they too be put through the same pain?

Her mind whirled and she felt the food rise in her stomach, her gut painfully cramping at the assault it had been given by Azog's boot.

His hand released her hair and her head fell forward again weakly, though she kept her eyes open as she watched him stand up, his boots covered in traces of her blood. The snow around her was speckled with tiny splatters of red.

He shouted a command to one of his guards, before turning away and leaving. She didn't look up to see his replacement but looked at the metal spikes protruding from the tip of the boot. If he was here to kill her, she hoped he'd aim for her throat and make it quick.

A knife appeared in her vision, but she didn't flinch away. She waited for it to fall into her chest or slide across her throat, but instead it and the figure moved and began to cut the rope around her ankles.

"Mustn't move too fast. Mustn't spoil the meat," it spoke to her in a sickly sing-song voice, seeming to enjoy her small cries as her battered body was jostled, "tastes best when it's alive. We'll hang you out and take the juiciest parts of you first. We'll hang you out and strip your skin."

Dru whimpered at the end of each sentence. She knew he wasn't trying to bluff her. He was merely stating the facts and enjoying her growing terror.

As the ropes around her wrists fell away, her weight became too much and she fell from the rock. She managed to catch herself on her good hand in time but cried out when her bare and burnt breast came into contact with the ground. Her knees were sore and her calves cramped up as she was finally released from her new position.

The guard did not allow her to rest long. It grabbed a chunk of her hair and threw her to the side, rolling her so she was laying on the ground and facing him. She cradled her hand to her chest and tried to protect herself. She looked around for any sign of a hasty retreat or help in any form.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw them. Discarded in a pile, along with the majority of her lighter armour, was her quiver, bow and arrows. Her sword was nowhere to be seen, but she felt something rise up in her at the sight of her weapons lying there. Calling to her, to keep fighting. To stay alive.

He loomed over her and leant in closer, smelling her and smirking at the scent of her blood.

"Hang you out where the others will see. When they come to cut you down, you'll already be dead. And they will join you. We'll be feasting on their meat tonight."

'No.'

She would not allow it. She would not allow herself to be used her bait to lure her family and friends to their deaths.

Her heart was beating furiously in her chest, she was in pain and she couldn't fight her way out of here with no weapons. But then, she still had her will and her brains. Or her head, at least. She tested her jaw and was thankful it was not broken for the next task she had planned.

She shut her eyes and whispered quietly. So quietly, that the guard leant in closer to her, her lips quivering in what he thought was a state of terror.

"What's it say?" He said again before his face was level with hers, his nose mere inches from hers. Curiosity had indeed killed the Orc.

"It says: Bollocks to that." Her eyes snapped open and he saw the fury in them for only a moment, before she lunged forward.

With the sheer force of her will to survive and see her loved ones safe again, her forehead connected with the Orcs face and the satisfying crack was rewarding enough. Blood quickly spurted out of its nose and onto her, but she ignored it. She bit down on her pain and scrambled up as the guard keeled backwards and hit the ground. Its legs twitched a couple of times, but then it just lay still. It hadn't even been able to scream.

She listened intently. No footsteps came. No shouts to alert the others. The distant sounds of the other Orcs clambering through the tunnels or above on the platform preparing for the trap they were laying was all she could hear.

She wasted no more time. She stood up and grabbed the Orcs sword before dashing over to her bow and quiver full of arrows. She slipped it around her pained shoulders and tried to avoid her burns as best she could. She slipped her bow in there, knowing that if she tried to fire in the tunnels, she'd either miss or be hindered by the walls. She had the sword anyway.

She looked down at her armour one last time and shook her head. She was already damaged enough and if she wasted her time putting the heavy coat around herself, she knew they'd come to find her eventually. Plus, the thought of trying to put her gloves back on over her damaged finger made her stomach churn.

She fled as quickly and quietly as she could. The way back was not blocked off, but her sense of direction was thrown. This tower was a labyrinth in itself and she had to keep stopping and checking she was going the right way. One set of stairs that went down actually led her to nowhere and she had to quickly double back. Another set actually led seemed to ascend when she suddenly went around a corner and she couldn't chance going up anymore.

Another branch appeared. She felt she was closer to the ground now. And then, the hairs on the back of her arms stood up. She turned around and listened. There were no more sounds from the Orcs. Everything had gone deadly silent and she couldn't even hear the distant sounds of the battlefield. The wind moved through the tunnels and carried along with it no more than whispers.

Azog had discovered she was gone and she knew then, they were hunting for her.

She turned quickly and ran to the first archway. She peeked out and saw a staircase leading down into the old foundations. Safety? She had to know if the other archway led to the ice. If she could get across the lake quicker, she could find the others and warn them.

She bounded over, paying no attention to the approaching shadows behind her. She peeked again. But this staircase was like the other damaged ones she'd seen. It only went five steps, the rest having crumbled away. It did lead out towards the lake, but the jump would surely have shattered her already sore ankles.

She stepped back and turned towards the other stairs, her feet moving two paces quickly. And then, she saw him. She whirled around with the Orc sword held out to meet the blade of Azog's as he brought it down upon her. She winced at the force he used and how her own sword was barely held together in both her hands, her finger burning with renewed pain as the vibrations went through her.

She remembered that she was no match for him with the sword, but she was quicker.

She ducked and dived and tried desperately to get the safety of the archway. Her back was to it, but she dared not turn and run, knowing Azog would easily stick her in the back. She couldn't deflect his attacks for long, but if needed she could distract him long enough to take an easy shot at him.

She never got the chance. At one particularly hard thrust, the sword fell from her hands. She watched it fall and made to dive for it before he had a chance to strike her again, but his hand suddenly grabbed her around the throat and squeezed.

Both her hands came to his wrist as he pulled and lifted her off of the ground. She couldn't breathe and the more she wiggled her feet, the more weight she put on herself. She could only hold on to him as he brought her up to his eye level and pulled her in close.

He smirked at her and raised out his arm behind him, no light from his blade, dull in the darkened tunnels.

"I should kill you now, but we have plans for you. We haven't even introduced you to 'The Spider' yet," He leant in closer to her, his lips brushing against her cheek, "do you know what that is? It's specially designed for your kind. It tears away the tender flesh. Easier mouthfuls for us."

His blade moved slowly and she felt the sharp edge move across her whole breast. In her panic and rush, she hadn't bothered to tie up her tunic.

He didn't cut her. He just pressed against her and drew the metal across her nipple, causing it to pebble against the cold. Had she been able to breathe, she would have cried out.

"Its metal fangs will pierce your skin and all that lays underneath. And then, we rip you apart."

She shut her eyes and tried to think. She couldn't get her bow or arrows out. She couldn't punch or kick him. And in this position, she wouldn't even be able to head-butt him. But her mind was working quickly. Her fear was keeping her alive and the image of familiar warm and blue eyes and a tender smile kept her focused.

Fili's face when she kissed him under the tree. His smile when she joined the journey. His playful glare after the troll attack. His warm and tender embrace in Lake-town. The nights-

The Troll horde. Her eyes snapped open and she remembered. The dagger in her boot. The dagger she had slipped in there from her holster. They hadn't searched in her boot.

He paid no attention to her eyes, seeming to relish the feeling of her quivering and gasping in his grasp.

She felt the blackness approaching, but she wouldn't let it take her. She waited for the moment, hoping it would come soon. It did.

The blade came away and he pulled back ever so slightly, adjusting his weight so he could stare into her face again.

It was only a moment she needed.

Dru reached down and grasped the handle of the dagger. It was still tucked away in her boot and she was glad they had not found it with the others. Making sure she aimed correctly, she whipped it out and raised it above her desired target.

Plunging it forward with all her strength she felt the dagger first pierce his flesh, muscle until finally, it stopped at the bone. But even then, she didn't give in. She pushed and turned the handle as hard as she could, feeling her own bones strain from the sheer force and strength she used.

She was pulling and tearing and going as quick as she could, to remove Azog's other arm. He roared in pain and dropped her. He had relinquished his grasp on her.

Somehow, she landed on her feet and stumbled back a step but her fingers had slipped from the dagger, still embedded in his arm. She took a deep breath and tried to focus. He looked between the weapon and then at her and she saw the fury in his eyes.

She took another step back just as his blade came up and he roared again, though this time with pure anger. The tip of his sword connected with flesh as he whipped the blade at her throat. She gasped in pain and her hand came up to clasp at her wound as she stumbled backwards.

She'd forgotten about the stairs. Her foot came down on nothing but air and even in pain, she felt that horrible sickening feeling in her stomach. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest and the last thing she saw before he disappeared from her vision, was Azog's sneering face. And then, the world tilted violently as she fell backwards.

A scream escaped her lips as her back hit the first steps and she tumbled violently around and down, the momentum too quick for her to grab onto anything to stop her downward descent.

For a moment, she felt she was back home. Tumbling headlong down the hills with her brothers and ignoring the biting pain as they raced one another to the bottom. But there was no cushy landing for her. Before she even reached the bottom, her head connected violently with one of the steps and she finally allowed the blackness to wash over her.

Azog watched as the female's body finally landed at the bottom of the stairs and rolled once before stilling. She hadn't braced herself for impact and she was not moving now as her body lay face down on the ground.

It was a shame. He could have used her screaming and writhing form for his pleasure as he tortured her more. He'd had a lot planned for her and had been looking forward to the moment Thorin Oakenshield and his company arrived to find her. He'd planned to kill her in front of them, allowing her one last scream before he allowed his guards to devour her in front of them. But alas, as he looked down again at her figure, he watched the blood pool out of her head.

He smiled. Plans change all the time. He was content enough to mock Thorin and the rest of them. He had her sword after all. And if they didn't believe him, then her broken body lying at the bottom of the steps to his tower would convince them soon enough. They'd fly into a rage and it'd be easier to beat them down then. He knew from her scent she was important to the line of Durin. Her death would give him the upper hand, he was certain of that. He turned away and smirked to himself, ready to rally his guards with a new plan. And if they were all victorious in killing every single last dwarf in the company, he would allow them to feast upon their flesh. He may even allow them to bring the female's corpse back up so they could defile it more. It was just a shame they would not hear her sweet screams again.