Hello! Here I am, updating sooner than usual. I was actually considering
being cruel, and waiting over a week to update again because of the nasty
cliffhanger I ended with. I guess I thought I would have achieved some
sort of victory, getting back at someone for all the times I've been left
at a nasty cliffhanger by other authors. Oh well, I couldn't very well
leave the story for too long now. It's getting good!
Thank you to anyone who reviewed! Namely: loveofthering, Sigil, racavende18, and purple-sorceress. I really appreciate reviews. They're my sustenance for life. (As you've probably already guessed, I don't really have a life. It is ruled by fanfiction and LOTR craziness.)
This chapter's going to be a bit longer than the last one. And the next chapter will be the last one! If anyone has stuck with it this far, and didn't heed my warnings in earlier chapters, here's another one: If you're looking for a happy joy-filled story, TURN BACK NOW! That is all.
I hope you enjoy! I had fun with names in this chapter! Please read and REVIEW!
*************************************************
On a time of autumn he came in the dusk of evening, and drawing near he saw as he thought a light at the window; and coming warily he looked within. There he saw Eilinel, and her face was worn with grief and hunger, and it seemed to him that he heard her voice lamenting that he had forsaken her. But even as he cried aloud the light was blown out in the wind; wolves howled, and on his shoulders he felt suddenly the heavy hands of Sauron's hunters . . .
(Silmarillion, Of Beren and Luthien)
*************************************************
"NO! EILINEL!" The screams tore from Gorlim's throat as he was slammed the ground by an enemy hidden in the black night. He continued to struggle, flailing his limbs in every direction, but his attackers held him firmly down, putting such weight on his chest that Gorlim's screams were soon replaced by shallow gasps for air.
Just when he thought his ribs would snap from the pressure, the force was lifted. Sensing his chance, he attempted to jump to his feet and make a run for it, but soon realized that his wrists and ankles were firmly tied with thick rope. He only got as far as a few clumsy jumps would take him, before he fell heavily to the ground, getting a mouthful of wet dirt, and hearing raspy laughter reverberate around him.
"I was expecting one of Barahir's fighters to . . ." the gravelly voice broke off into more laughter, and then added " . . . put up more of a fight!"
Brutal hands grasped Gorlim's shoulders, and flipped him roughly over to face him. By this time, one of the attackers had lit a torch, revealing to Gorlim who had captured him.
The first thing he saw, was the revolting face of an orc, complete with bloodshot eyes and yellowed fangs, only inches from his own face. He turned his head to the side, trying in vain to escape the foul breath, but the orc grabbed his chin and forced him back to being eye to eye with the creature.
"What's wrong with you?" the orc sniggered. "You don't like the look of my pretty face?"
Roars of laughter greeted this comment, and Gorlim looked past the orc's face only to see . . .
At least a hundred more orcs had him surrounded.
One of them, obviously the leader, broke free form the circle and approached the original orc, still laughing and clawing at Gorlim. "Hey! Ragdush!" He snarled. "Stop playin' with it! This one's not a toy!"
Ragdush's face twisted into a snarl, and releasing Gorlim, he stood facing the other orc. "Bah!" He spat. "You, Gardug, are no fun. I wasn't hurtin' him!"
He broke off as Gardug shoved him out of the way and knelt beside Gorlim, a disconcerting smile growing when he saw the fear in the man's eyes.
He extended one fully clawed finger, dragging it down Gorlim's cheek, cutting a deep, bloody gash. Gorlim barely flinched, trying as hard as he could to not show his despair, but Gardug saw it anyway.
"Now then," the orc said suddenly, ripping his bloodied claw from Gorlim's skin, ignoring Gorlim's slight grunt of pain. "I will give you a choice." He smiled his wicked smile once more. "The Master sent us to find out where that coward, Barahir, was hidin' out." He motioned for two more orcs to lift Gorlim, raising him up so that his eyes were almost level with the other's.
"You," he continued. "Were all too easy to find." Gardug waved to the house. "Yes, very predictable for one of the supposed, 'protectors of Dorthonion.' You rats would not be able to protect a fortified city from a band of robbers, let alone a forsaken patch of dirt from the almighty Dark Lord!" He raised his foot and kicked Gorlim in the stomach. The poor man, unable to dodge the blow, gasped weakly as all the air in his lungs was knocked out of him. "You are weak!" The orc sneered. "The only reason I have not killed ya right out, is the Master has a plan for you.
"The choice ya have," the orc said evilly, "Is whether ya want to tell us what we want to know, or whether ya want us to get the information from ya." Gardug gestured to the army of orcs around him. "Yes, telling us straight out would be quickest, but the boys haven't had some fun in a while. It would be awful kind of ya to put up a good struggle for them."
Gorlim felt his last bit of hope drain form his heart. He couldn't tell them about Tarn Aeluin . . . he couldn't . . . he couldn't . . . he couldn't . . . and Eilinel was still in there. Eilinel! Had the orcs caught her too! Not again! Gorlim closed his eyes, silently praying that she had escaped.
Gardug noticed the conflicting emotions playing across Gorlim's features. Again, he signaled to the two orcs, having them tie their prisoner to a nearby tree. This time, Gorlim was too weak from the anguish tearing at his heart to resist. Soon, he was bound tightly to the tree truck.
"So," Gardug said finally. "What do ya want? Tell us, or tell us to make ya tell us. Your choice."
Gorlim shot a gaze of pure hatred into Gardug's eyes, hiding the weak resolve behind. "Where is my wife?"
Whatever Gardug had been expecting, this wasn't it. "What? Your wife?" After a brief pause, he slapped Gorlim across the face.
The blow knocked Gorlim so hard that stars flew before his eyes. The world tilted sickeningly, and he fixed his gaze on a rock beneath him, trying to focus himself.
With Gorlim distracted, Gardug shared a slightly confused glance with some of the other orcs. By the time Gorlim once again looked up with a welt forming on his face, Gardug wore a viciously determined expression once more. Pulling a long whip from his belt, he raised it, preparing to strike. But watching as Gorlim cringed, Gardug never let the whip fall.
"Your wife," Gardug muttered, "is already being taken to Sauron's dungeons."
A look of horror swelled in the man's eyes.
"Yes," Gardug added. "But we could bring her back here to ya . . . for a price."
"Name it." Gorlim demanded, almost before the orc finished speaking.
"Where are Barahir's fighters hidin'? Tell us this, and we will take you to your wife and set you free."
Gorlim's breath caught in his throat. Could he betray his companions? But if he did, he could be set free with his Eilinel! They could live together for the rest of their lives! They wouldn't have to worry about Barahir breathing down their necks about the group's safety! The group would be . . .
Dead.
All of them.
His stomach tightening, he continued to run the decision through his mind over and over. Gorlim shook his head, trying to dispel the nauseous feeling beginning to develop.
He didn't notice the orcs, getting impatient, and saw, too late, the whip flying towards his unprotected chest.
His shrill screams were too loud for the crack of the whip to be heard. But he too plainly, felt the blood trickling down his chest and, too clearly, heard the orcs' cheers that accompanied his torment.
"Oh, Eilinel," Gorlim murmured hoarsely. "What should I do?"
"What did ya say, there?" Gardug asked, with malicious amusement. "Ya want more?"
The whip cracked again, but this time, Gorlim was ready. Biting his lip so hard it bled, he bore the pain in silence, determined not to give the orcs a shred of pleasure if he could manage it. Fiery agony consumed him as the whip cracked a third time, and a fourth, until he was covered in criss- crosses of flame-red marks.
Through the droning roar that now filled his ears, Gorlim almost couldn't hear Gardug when he spoke again. "My thanks for the entertainment!" The orc laughed. Gorlim, trying to suppress his trembling, raised his head, and tried to glare at the hateful creature through a mixture of sweat and salty tears.
Gardug raised an eyebrow. "What? You just gonna stare? Ya gave us our sport, now get on with it!"
Gorlim forced himself not to answer.
"So," replied Gardug, getting dangerously angry. "Ya not gonna talk?" He pulled a small dagger from its sheath, and held the razor-sharp edge to the side of Gorlim's throat. "We have ways of makin' ya talk."
Gorlim swallowed nervously, taking into account the cool steel less than a centimeter of taking his life.
"You will tell us," growled the orc, "Or we will take ya to our Master and you will tell him."
Gorlim shuddered, closed his eyes, and whispered softly, "I'm sorry Eilinel."
Seeing that the man would not talk, Gardug withdrew the dagger. Gorlim did not even get the chance to breath a slight sigh of relief, when he saw the dagger hurtling through the air towards him. It embedded itself into the wood of the tree right beside his head.
"So," Gardug said with a deadly undertone. "You have chosen for your dear wife to spend the rest of her years rotting in the dungeons. You've saved your friends for now, but our Master will get them soon."
Gorlim moaned. "I'm sorry Eilinel." He repeated feverishly. "I'm sorry."
Gardug motioned for him to be removed from the tree. "Be prepared to meet your doom!" The orc snickered. "Cause we're takin' ya to our Master, Sauron the Great!"
TBC
Thank you to anyone who reviewed! Namely: loveofthering, Sigil, racavende18, and purple-sorceress. I really appreciate reviews. They're my sustenance for life. (As you've probably already guessed, I don't really have a life. It is ruled by fanfiction and LOTR craziness.)
This chapter's going to be a bit longer than the last one. And the next chapter will be the last one! If anyone has stuck with it this far, and didn't heed my warnings in earlier chapters, here's another one: If you're looking for a happy joy-filled story, TURN BACK NOW! That is all.
I hope you enjoy! I had fun with names in this chapter! Please read and REVIEW!
*************************************************
On a time of autumn he came in the dusk of evening, and drawing near he saw as he thought a light at the window; and coming warily he looked within. There he saw Eilinel, and her face was worn with grief and hunger, and it seemed to him that he heard her voice lamenting that he had forsaken her. But even as he cried aloud the light was blown out in the wind; wolves howled, and on his shoulders he felt suddenly the heavy hands of Sauron's hunters . . .
(Silmarillion, Of Beren and Luthien)
*************************************************
"NO! EILINEL!" The screams tore from Gorlim's throat as he was slammed the ground by an enemy hidden in the black night. He continued to struggle, flailing his limbs in every direction, but his attackers held him firmly down, putting such weight on his chest that Gorlim's screams were soon replaced by shallow gasps for air.
Just when he thought his ribs would snap from the pressure, the force was lifted. Sensing his chance, he attempted to jump to his feet and make a run for it, but soon realized that his wrists and ankles were firmly tied with thick rope. He only got as far as a few clumsy jumps would take him, before he fell heavily to the ground, getting a mouthful of wet dirt, and hearing raspy laughter reverberate around him.
"I was expecting one of Barahir's fighters to . . ." the gravelly voice broke off into more laughter, and then added " . . . put up more of a fight!"
Brutal hands grasped Gorlim's shoulders, and flipped him roughly over to face him. By this time, one of the attackers had lit a torch, revealing to Gorlim who had captured him.
The first thing he saw, was the revolting face of an orc, complete with bloodshot eyes and yellowed fangs, only inches from his own face. He turned his head to the side, trying in vain to escape the foul breath, but the orc grabbed his chin and forced him back to being eye to eye with the creature.
"What's wrong with you?" the orc sniggered. "You don't like the look of my pretty face?"
Roars of laughter greeted this comment, and Gorlim looked past the orc's face only to see . . .
At least a hundred more orcs had him surrounded.
One of them, obviously the leader, broke free form the circle and approached the original orc, still laughing and clawing at Gorlim. "Hey! Ragdush!" He snarled. "Stop playin' with it! This one's not a toy!"
Ragdush's face twisted into a snarl, and releasing Gorlim, he stood facing the other orc. "Bah!" He spat. "You, Gardug, are no fun. I wasn't hurtin' him!"
He broke off as Gardug shoved him out of the way and knelt beside Gorlim, a disconcerting smile growing when he saw the fear in the man's eyes.
He extended one fully clawed finger, dragging it down Gorlim's cheek, cutting a deep, bloody gash. Gorlim barely flinched, trying as hard as he could to not show his despair, but Gardug saw it anyway.
"Now then," the orc said suddenly, ripping his bloodied claw from Gorlim's skin, ignoring Gorlim's slight grunt of pain. "I will give you a choice." He smiled his wicked smile once more. "The Master sent us to find out where that coward, Barahir, was hidin' out." He motioned for two more orcs to lift Gorlim, raising him up so that his eyes were almost level with the other's.
"You," he continued. "Were all too easy to find." Gardug waved to the house. "Yes, very predictable for one of the supposed, 'protectors of Dorthonion.' You rats would not be able to protect a fortified city from a band of robbers, let alone a forsaken patch of dirt from the almighty Dark Lord!" He raised his foot and kicked Gorlim in the stomach. The poor man, unable to dodge the blow, gasped weakly as all the air in his lungs was knocked out of him. "You are weak!" The orc sneered. "The only reason I have not killed ya right out, is the Master has a plan for you.
"The choice ya have," the orc said evilly, "Is whether ya want to tell us what we want to know, or whether ya want us to get the information from ya." Gardug gestured to the army of orcs around him. "Yes, telling us straight out would be quickest, but the boys haven't had some fun in a while. It would be awful kind of ya to put up a good struggle for them."
Gorlim felt his last bit of hope drain form his heart. He couldn't tell them about Tarn Aeluin . . . he couldn't . . . he couldn't . . . he couldn't . . . and Eilinel was still in there. Eilinel! Had the orcs caught her too! Not again! Gorlim closed his eyes, silently praying that she had escaped.
Gardug noticed the conflicting emotions playing across Gorlim's features. Again, he signaled to the two orcs, having them tie their prisoner to a nearby tree. This time, Gorlim was too weak from the anguish tearing at his heart to resist. Soon, he was bound tightly to the tree truck.
"So," Gardug said finally. "What do ya want? Tell us, or tell us to make ya tell us. Your choice."
Gorlim shot a gaze of pure hatred into Gardug's eyes, hiding the weak resolve behind. "Where is my wife?"
Whatever Gardug had been expecting, this wasn't it. "What? Your wife?" After a brief pause, he slapped Gorlim across the face.
The blow knocked Gorlim so hard that stars flew before his eyes. The world tilted sickeningly, and he fixed his gaze on a rock beneath him, trying to focus himself.
With Gorlim distracted, Gardug shared a slightly confused glance with some of the other orcs. By the time Gorlim once again looked up with a welt forming on his face, Gardug wore a viciously determined expression once more. Pulling a long whip from his belt, he raised it, preparing to strike. But watching as Gorlim cringed, Gardug never let the whip fall.
"Your wife," Gardug muttered, "is already being taken to Sauron's dungeons."
A look of horror swelled in the man's eyes.
"Yes," Gardug added. "But we could bring her back here to ya . . . for a price."
"Name it." Gorlim demanded, almost before the orc finished speaking.
"Where are Barahir's fighters hidin'? Tell us this, and we will take you to your wife and set you free."
Gorlim's breath caught in his throat. Could he betray his companions? But if he did, he could be set free with his Eilinel! They could live together for the rest of their lives! They wouldn't have to worry about Barahir breathing down their necks about the group's safety! The group would be . . .
Dead.
All of them.
His stomach tightening, he continued to run the decision through his mind over and over. Gorlim shook his head, trying to dispel the nauseous feeling beginning to develop.
He didn't notice the orcs, getting impatient, and saw, too late, the whip flying towards his unprotected chest.
His shrill screams were too loud for the crack of the whip to be heard. But he too plainly, felt the blood trickling down his chest and, too clearly, heard the orcs' cheers that accompanied his torment.
"Oh, Eilinel," Gorlim murmured hoarsely. "What should I do?"
"What did ya say, there?" Gardug asked, with malicious amusement. "Ya want more?"
The whip cracked again, but this time, Gorlim was ready. Biting his lip so hard it bled, he bore the pain in silence, determined not to give the orcs a shred of pleasure if he could manage it. Fiery agony consumed him as the whip cracked a third time, and a fourth, until he was covered in criss- crosses of flame-red marks.
Through the droning roar that now filled his ears, Gorlim almost couldn't hear Gardug when he spoke again. "My thanks for the entertainment!" The orc laughed. Gorlim, trying to suppress his trembling, raised his head, and tried to glare at the hateful creature through a mixture of sweat and salty tears.
Gardug raised an eyebrow. "What? You just gonna stare? Ya gave us our sport, now get on with it!"
Gorlim forced himself not to answer.
"So," replied Gardug, getting dangerously angry. "Ya not gonna talk?" He pulled a small dagger from its sheath, and held the razor-sharp edge to the side of Gorlim's throat. "We have ways of makin' ya talk."
Gorlim swallowed nervously, taking into account the cool steel less than a centimeter of taking his life.
"You will tell us," growled the orc, "Or we will take ya to our Master and you will tell him."
Gorlim shuddered, closed his eyes, and whispered softly, "I'm sorry Eilinel."
Seeing that the man would not talk, Gardug withdrew the dagger. Gorlim did not even get the chance to breath a slight sigh of relief, when he saw the dagger hurtling through the air towards him. It embedded itself into the wood of the tree right beside his head.
"So," Gardug said with a deadly undertone. "You have chosen for your dear wife to spend the rest of her years rotting in the dungeons. You've saved your friends for now, but our Master will get them soon."
Gorlim moaned. "I'm sorry Eilinel." He repeated feverishly. "I'm sorry."
Gardug motioned for him to be removed from the tree. "Be prepared to meet your doom!" The orc snickered. "Cause we're takin' ya to our Master, Sauron the Great!"
TBC
