Hey guys, sorry for the wait. I've been buried under homework, projects and other stuff like that. I really have been meaning to update, but I decided to end my procrastinating and finish my layout for my website. Anyway, without further ado, I give you:

Chapter Four

As Aragorn walked, he racked his brains for all the different ways he could possibly escape from his captors. 'Lothlórien is close by' he thought, 'if I could just enter the guarded realm, I would be safe.' He shook himself from that thought though, 'don't fool yourself, Estel, Lothlórien is many leagues from here. There is no way you could get there without having orcs hot on your heels!'

He was miserable marching with the orcs. The draught had long ago begun to wear off, and his legs were starting to seize up. He stumbled upon miniscule pebbles in the ground too often, as he barely lifted his feet off the ground with ever step. The beasts around him were moving at an alarming pace, and he had to struggle to keep up. Behind him, three orcs stood with whips, lashing out at him whenever they felt he was moving too slow, but mostly when they felt like exercising their already well trained skills. "Hurry up, human," they'd tell him, "the sun will rise soon."

Suddenly the whole host slowed, and Aragorn lifted his head to see two large doors swung open, soaking up the dim bluish light of the early morning. The east gate of Moria. Suddenly he finally realized that Moria had been taken over by orcs. Again. He hesitated before the doors, unsure of what he would see. He was pushed from behind and was sent tumbling into the dark.

He stood up quickly, not wanting to be kicked or whipped by the orcs around him, but found himself so closely surrounded that he could just barely breathe in the thick and foul air. He stared at his feet, watching the floor as he walked unsteadily down the uneven steps. Every time he reached a landing, he would stumble into the next orc, thinking that there was another step below the one he had just come off of. He could not see anything in front of him, behind him or on either side, save the heads of the hideous creatures.

The whole host stopped, and they began to filter as if they were being poured through a funnel slowly, one orc at a time. Each orc would stride forward and cross the narrow bridge. Aragorn was scared out of his wits. He tried to keep his head up and look away from the sides of the bridge, but with the orcs pushing him to move faster, he had to keep watch on his footing, or he would send his own self plummeting to his own death.

As soon as Aragorn reached the other side, he was grabbed by four orcs, who grasped hold of his hair, his arms and were even standing on his weary feet. The chief orc strode up swinging around a black covered set of manacles, and cheerfully slapped them onto his wrists, smirking in Aragorn's face. He waved the rest of his orcs away, and they gladly obliged their chief. Grabbing hold of the chain, the orc strode forward, leaving Aragorn to scamper after him, trying hard to keep the heavy chains from dragging his upper body to the ground.

He entered the large and cramped cavern and was thrown back by the horrid stench that met his nose. It smelt of rotting food, day's old urine and feces mixed together. 'So this is the reason for their terrible smell' he mused, trying to keep his spirits up. But as he passed a column, his stomach did a summersault. There were torture machines lined along the walls, and each was busy splattering the blood of those who had upset their superiors. Even with his history of brutal battles, never before had Aragorn witnessed such ugly behavior.

Pieces of flesh rained down like hail upon his head and he jumped aside, colliding with a passing orc. He muttered a quick apology and looked for the source. Right next to the wall, there was a tall sturdy orc that was grabbing hold of the lesser orcs by their feet and running them through an odd looking machine that acted somewhat like a wood chipper head first. Screams of anguish emitted from the machine, and as their brains flew out in a bloody mess, their screams continued to bounce off the wall, creating a great chord of screams. Aragorn had not the heart to watch any further and he diverted his attention elsewhere. There he saw an orc with manacles hooked around its ankles and another set around his wrists. He was lying flat on a rotting wood surface. Aragorn watched in horror as he saw two orcs pushing the blocks of metal further apart. He quickly cast his eyes to the floor, and grimaced as he was splattered with more blood.

He shivered and he hurried behind the chief into the next room. 'Is that what they have in store for me?' Aragorn worried, 'O Eru, why didn't you take me earlier? What wrong did I do to deserve such a horrible death?' He followed closely behind the next weapon lined cavern where orcs were standing over fires and bringing mallets and hammers down on sheets of steel. They stopped their work for seconds at a time to jeer at this newcomer. As they saw the chief they quickly took up their tools and began to pound on the hot metal.

The chief orc walked at an even faster pace as Aragorn scampered behind him through the winding passages that led to unlit rooms deeper underground. Here, the smell of the orcs was milder, and the smell of must and stagnant water took its place. At the end of the very end of the passage, there was a door made up of steel bars. The chief draped the chains it had been holding in its hand over its arm and began to rummage through his garments for a key, which it fit into the keyhole. The door swung wide open and Aragorn was shoved forcefully into the cell.

By reflex he struggled with the orc, who was wider and currently had more strength. It was a useless fight, and the orc hit him upside the head and quickly slammed the door shut to avoid anymore trouble. As he sauntered back to the main halls, Aragorn continued to throw himself at the bars. They shook and rattled, but they did not break. Aragorn gave up all hope and walked backward and slumped against the wall. He crouched down and put his head in his arms and fell into a dreamless deep sleep.

TBC…

Okay, so this chapter was a bit of nothingness, but I just wanted to write what I thought an orc inhabited Moria would look like.

Entwater: thank you sooo much. I am really very very flattered.
Marsman: hello jon. Thanks for the review. And I pinch you for it! Hah! j/k. lol
purple-blue-flames: I'm rewriting both my stories. I'm completely changing the corruption plot and omens will just be less gay. I'm thinking about changing it a bit as well, but … I'm working on it. I'm out of ideas for now though. It must be the homework ;)
dimathiel: it's not suspense!
wickedfantasies: I've updated! You can stop IMing me to update! lol. yeah, it's the very same draught that merry and pip had shoved down their throats.
BEennn: lol. hi ben. Right now, it's just the stupid geo project. You really freaked me yesterday when you asked if I did geo. Yeesh. I had actually accidentally left MSN and was just sitting around reading.
grumpy: I was actually just thinking that. there are a few stories that have Aragorn tell his ada that he doesn't go looking for trouble, and that trouble seems to find him. Thanks for you review :)
anmras: hahaha, thanks. Canadian idol... is that similar to American idol?

Thanks you guys soo much! If you wouldn't mind just reviewing again...? :D