Without warning, it plummeted out of the sky like a thunderbolt. Aragorn shouted and shoved Frodo down beneath him, protecting the hobbit with his own body as the creature passed over them both. Shrieking with rage at having missed its target, the thing flared its wings, braking sharply, and spun to face them.

Frodo gasped when he saw it. Nazgûl! his mind screamed. He was only partially correct, for the creature was not a Ringwraith; it was merely the mount of one. But that made it no less frightening. The hobbit's gaze roved from one wingtip fifty feet over to the other. Covered in black, leathery skin, it exuded a foul stench like carrion. Enormous talons gleamed on its two feet. It roared, maw opening wide to reveal row upon row of daggerlike fangs nearly as long as Frodo's forearm, long tail thrashing behind it. Spines ran the length of its back. Batlike wings flaring wide, it glared murderously back at him.

Aragorn was already down on one knee and firing arrows at the beast. Several did not connect because of the odd air currents its wings created. Now more than ever did he miss Legolas—the Elf could hit anything, cross breeze or no. The few that hit did not penetrate the leathery armor; indeed, they seemed only to anger the creature. Black wings pumping, it lifted off and darted towards them with a speed that belied its size. The Ranger dared not fire again: he had but one arrow left.

Gimli roared and planted himself in front of it, hefting his axe. "Come, wyrm!" he bellowed. "Let us see if you can best a dwarf of Erebor!"

Sam, pausing in his frantic dodge for a moment, was certain that Gimli was mad, but then decided it was really none of his business.

The fell beast shrieked again and dove at the taunting dwarf. At the last possible second, Gimli threw himself to one side, yanked a throwing axe from his belt, and hurled it with all his strength. That blade managed to do what Aragorn's arrows had not, piercing the black flesh and eliciting a scream of pain. Whipping about, the creature came around for another pass. This time it did not attempt to snatch any of the Company with its maw, but instead reached forwards with raking talons.

Boromir gave a stifled shout and fell, a claw tearing a wicked gash down the length of one arm. His bracer snagged on its tip. There was a sharp crack of bone, and he cried out again, but thrust his sword through the film of one wing in retribution. A ragged tear opened from the wingtip twenty feet on to its body as it passed by. Air rushed through the gap, and when the beast tried to swerve to avoid the canyon wall, it collided directly with the cliff, unable to fly.

But it was still quite able to move, and move it did.

Straight towards Boromir, sprawled unprotected at the wall's base, cradling his torn and broken arm. He had dropped his sword, and though it lay only a few feet away, he would never be able to reach it with the unbroken limb in time.

The fell beast lunged forward, maw opening wide.

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Saruman looked down at the Elf and the two hobbits that were thrown at his feet. All three of them were blindfolded, hands bound: the hobbits' in front, the Elf's behind his back. The little folk were allowed to remain standing, but the Uruk-hai guards shoved the Elf to his knees. He landed heavily on the stone floor.

The Istar took hold of the blinds and ripped them off one by one, hobbits first, grabbing their chins and forcing each of them to look at him. The first, the taller of the two, stared back defiantly; if he was frightened, he did not show it. The second looked back not quite as boldly, but more shrewdly. He would be the more intelligent, and therefore the more dangerous.

The wizard saved the Elf for last, tearing off the blindfold, studying the creature as he did so. It was in poor condition: lacerations, bruises, abraded wrists, and most notably the arrow in its shoulder. The Istar smiled slightly at the black fire and the still-constant bleeding; at least that had gone aright. But despite these wounds, however, the golden hair still gleamed. The azure eyes still shone. The lithe body was still whole.

These things would have to be taken care of.

Perhaps a small demonstration first, to instill some fear in the Halflings as much as for its own sake. So in one smooth motion, Saruman reached out and tore the arrow from the Elf's shoulder.

Legolas gasped and twisted in pain, falling to the stone, breaking the Orc guards' hold on him. Bright scarlet streamers of blood wound down the front of his tunic, mixed with other, more sinister black streaks. He gritted his teeth and shut his eyes tightly, writhing against the agony. His hands were still bound behind him; else he would have reached to stem the crimson flow. But he would not cry out. He would not give Saruman the craven traitor that satisfaction. It should not hurt this much! his mind cried, almost incoherent. It should not—hurt—this badly—

Merry and Pippin could only look on in horror, for they could do nothing. Despite that obvious fact, however, the former darted forward to lend what aid he could. When one of the Uruks raised his club, the Istar raised a hand for him to hold. Licking his thin lips, Saruman watched in delight and waited for the right moment. Just as Merry managed to raise the wounded archer off the floor with his bound hands, the wizard let his hand drop, and the waiting Uruk brought his club down hard on the unwary little hobbit. Merry crumpled, senseless. The Elf was too dazed by pain to support his own body weight, and he, too, fell once more.

A word from Saruman, and the Orcs roughly jerked the archer upright. Their claws dug cruelly into the porcelain skin. They had to hold him up, else he surely would have slumped down again. Filthy hands yanked at the golden hair until the wizard could look into the glazed sapphire eyes. The Istar stood for a moment, as if searching for something, and then slapped the Elf once across the face. The Uruks let him drop.

Legolas lay, stunned and almost unconscious, as Saruman gave orders for him and the hobbits to be taken to adjacent, but separate, cells. He felt the brawny arms of the Uruks close about his body, felt himself lifted and borne away, and then deposited unceremoniously on yet another stone floor. A final kick to the ribs made him double up. His last thought before being engulfed in soul-deep blackness was, Where are the stars? Elbereth, where are you?

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wow. okay, i have this nice long list of excuses, which i'm sure you don't want to hear. but i was on horseback for nearly the entire weekend…i had loads of homework…my spanish teacher is a $!%!$^&#*…and it goes on. say, no translations in this chapter. well, there would have been, but i couldn't find the words for 'where' for legolas' last thought. so i guess it's on to reviews (yay! my favorite part!):

Aarien—sorry it was so short! but you know me…damn perfectionism. what'm i ever gonna do?

emma—thanks for catching that! i keep leaving holes in my literature. what i meant to say was, yes, merry and pippin are still tied up, so they can't help. *wicked grin* course, i planned it that way.

Ecri—yeah, i meant to have them experience some emotional angst, but i kinda forgot. i tried to fix it. did i do better this time around?

White Wolf—how on earth could i have forgotten that? it was high on my list of planned agonies! no worries, i took care of it. howzat?

Flames of Udûn—score one for eldacar! i am now classified as 'life', if by 'life behind this story' you meant me. well, if that's one of the nicest reviews you've ever written, it's also one of the nicest reviews i've ever gotten. *blushes* moulin rouge, eh? never saw it. i wanted to, but never did. and btw *cringes at self's lack of knowledge, speaks in very small voice* who're peter jackson and philipa boyen? familiar names…i feel so ignorant…

Enigma Jade—school. ah, yes. my own personal hell. and the saddest thing is that i actually pay to go there…not of my own volition, mind, but still. it rankles. glad you like my work; hope it stays that way!

Aireroswen—so, you enjoy the torture? yes! i've found a kindred spirit (well, another one, really, but whatever)! hope you liked this chapter, it was the most angsty of them all so far. *evil chuckle* but i'm only just getting started! any suggestions? i have a couple good torments lined up, but i'm always open to new ideas!