Disclaimer: Again, I don't own any of the following characters or places;
they belong to the estate of J. R. R. Tolkien.
A/N Sorry about the really short 1st chapter, I got so excited and wanted to post right away! Here's chapter 2!
Frodo woke up later, dazed. He felt a burning liquid being poured down his throat. He noticed he was lying on a bed of hard stone, granite or marble. He leaned over and his stomach, feeling the last results of Shelob's poison, emptied itself upon the floor. It was then that he noticed the orcs that surrounded him, but they were keeping their distance, as if they were afraid he might harm them. He made up his mind to draw his sword and go down fighting, but he noticed that Sting was no longer by his side. He checked the place at his neck, and feeling no lump where the Ring should be, he realized that he had been plundered while in his death-like sleep. At that point he almost gave up hope, but a part of the old Frodo was wakened. He assumed Sam was in another room, much like this one, but if Sam HAD escaped there was still hope that the quest had not yet failed. One of the orcs began to speak, and Frodo started listening. "The prisoner is awake!" it exclaimed. "What should we do with it?"
One orc, much larger than Frodo, but slightly smaller than the others replied, " Let's eat it; we haven't had fresh, sweet meat in a while."
Another of the same stature responded, "And how shall we divide it? I assume those of the tower guard will get the sweetest, tastiest parts."
One of the larger orcs reprimanded them, "The Master told us to question all captives before disposing of them."
"And who will get the reward for the capture?" the first orc said. "We had as much a part of it as you had, and you will take all the rewards." The largest of the bunch quickly slew the speaker. Frodo wondered what was going on, and why he understood their foul language. Perhaps it was a lingering effect of the Ring, to be able to understand the language it was created under.
The orcs continued their arguing until one orc (probably smarter than average, but still incredibly stupid) lifted Frodo under his arm and carried him to the highest tower and deposited him there with the supplies that had not been plundered (namely, lembas). "Don't leave or speak, or we will feast on flesh tonight!" the orc grinned evilly. He then proceeded to go down the trapdoor and, as Frodo gathered from the scraping noises, removed the ladder.
Frodo, alone with his thoughts, pondered what had happened. He hoped that Sam had somehow survived, that the Nameless Enemy had not gotten the Ring. His fitful thoughts turned into unpleasant dreams. He dreamt of his last night with his parents. How his mother, dressed in her finest dress, wearing her most beautiful jewelry, smelling of the sweetest perfume, and his father, dressed in his best suit, had gone out with him, a young lad, for his first trip down river. He remembered the large rock that tore a hole in the small craft, and his father giving him the bundle of cloths, the only flotation device they had had.
Frodo realized he was weeping. Then he was screaming as he felt the pain of a barbed whip bite into his back. "I thought I told you to keep quiet! There is an Elvish warrior loose, and if you cry out for help, you will wish that you were only being whipped." He bared his teeth and emitted a sound that, had a human made it, would have resembled a laugh. The orc set a bowl of stagnant water beside a bowl of spoiled meat and rotten bread. "Eat up, dinner's served," the orc said as he disappeared down the trapdoor.
A/N: I'll try to get the next chapter up tomorrow; look for it then!
A/N Sorry about the really short 1st chapter, I got so excited and wanted to post right away! Here's chapter 2!
Frodo woke up later, dazed. He felt a burning liquid being poured down his throat. He noticed he was lying on a bed of hard stone, granite or marble. He leaned over and his stomach, feeling the last results of Shelob's poison, emptied itself upon the floor. It was then that he noticed the orcs that surrounded him, but they were keeping their distance, as if they were afraid he might harm them. He made up his mind to draw his sword and go down fighting, but he noticed that Sting was no longer by his side. He checked the place at his neck, and feeling no lump where the Ring should be, he realized that he had been plundered while in his death-like sleep. At that point he almost gave up hope, but a part of the old Frodo was wakened. He assumed Sam was in another room, much like this one, but if Sam HAD escaped there was still hope that the quest had not yet failed. One of the orcs began to speak, and Frodo started listening. "The prisoner is awake!" it exclaimed. "What should we do with it?"
One orc, much larger than Frodo, but slightly smaller than the others replied, " Let's eat it; we haven't had fresh, sweet meat in a while."
Another of the same stature responded, "And how shall we divide it? I assume those of the tower guard will get the sweetest, tastiest parts."
One of the larger orcs reprimanded them, "The Master told us to question all captives before disposing of them."
"And who will get the reward for the capture?" the first orc said. "We had as much a part of it as you had, and you will take all the rewards." The largest of the bunch quickly slew the speaker. Frodo wondered what was going on, and why he understood their foul language. Perhaps it was a lingering effect of the Ring, to be able to understand the language it was created under.
The orcs continued their arguing until one orc (probably smarter than average, but still incredibly stupid) lifted Frodo under his arm and carried him to the highest tower and deposited him there with the supplies that had not been plundered (namely, lembas). "Don't leave or speak, or we will feast on flesh tonight!" the orc grinned evilly. He then proceeded to go down the trapdoor and, as Frodo gathered from the scraping noises, removed the ladder.
Frodo, alone with his thoughts, pondered what had happened. He hoped that Sam had somehow survived, that the Nameless Enemy had not gotten the Ring. His fitful thoughts turned into unpleasant dreams. He dreamt of his last night with his parents. How his mother, dressed in her finest dress, wearing her most beautiful jewelry, smelling of the sweetest perfume, and his father, dressed in his best suit, had gone out with him, a young lad, for his first trip down river. He remembered the large rock that tore a hole in the small craft, and his father giving him the bundle of cloths, the only flotation device they had had.
Frodo realized he was weeping. Then he was screaming as he felt the pain of a barbed whip bite into his back. "I thought I told you to keep quiet! There is an Elvish warrior loose, and if you cry out for help, you will wish that you were only being whipped." He bared his teeth and emitted a sound that, had a human made it, would have resembled a laugh. The orc set a bowl of stagnant water beside a bowl of spoiled meat and rotten bread. "Eat up, dinner's served," the orc said as he disappeared down the trapdoor.
A/N: I'll try to get the next chapter up tomorrow; look for it then!