Disclaimer: I own nothing but my deranged ideas.

Warnings: I have a strange, twisted sense of humour.

A/N: Thankyou to those people who reviewed, I do appreciate it!
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Chapter 2 – Pecking Order

"Well, well, well. What have we here?"

Unsure of the answer himself, Gollum remained silent.

For maximum effect, the Witch King opened the iron door slowly, allowing the crrrrreak that had been fitted into all of Mordor's dungeons to achieve the optimum level of pain to be inflicted on the prisoner's eardrums.

"What do you know about a ring?"

"Err… ring…? What ring?"

"Fine. Have it your way." A gauntleted hand reached out to grab the…thing, which was now cowering in a corner of the cell, quivering and gibbering nonsense to itself.

"Mustn't hurt us preciousss, nasssty wraithses, we mustn't tell them, no, no preciousss…"

The hand paused, amazingly it seemed there were still things that could turn even the decaying stomachs of the Ulairi, and pointed a sharp finger at the …thing's neck. "ssstay." The Witch King hissed, in his best 'talking to victims' voice. Poking his head out of the cell, he scouted the dank corridor for a guard. He adopted his most menacing 'talking to underlings' voice.

"Snaga!"

Slowly, all but one of the small circle of orcs turned to look at the smallest and most downtrodden of their number. "Again? Why does it always have to be me?" complained the orc. The others merely grunted and went back to their poker game.

With a sigh, the orc jumped to his feet. "Yessir!"

"Over here! Now!" Abandoning the game, the trembling orc scurried into the cell where the wraith was pointing.

"Get that …thing ready in my," the Witch King lowered his voice to a whispered hiss, to avoid any necessary fuss from Gollum, "torture chamber in five minutes, and for the love of Morgoth, don't play with it! It looks frail enough as it is and I want it to TALK!"

"Yes sir, of course sir, anything you say sir!"

"Good. You will find the appropriate equipment in that cupboard." The nazgûl pointed to a small, pseudo-gothic bathroom cupboard hanging lopsidedly on the cell wall.

With that, the Witch King turned abruptly around and stalked out of the cell, leaving the orc to deal with a gibbering Gollum.

The orc, who's name incidentally was Ghashborg (not that anyone cared, or even remembered preferring to call him names such as 'snaga' or 'runt'), sighed, and climbed up on the hard bench to reach the cupboard containing handcuffs, whips, chains and other items necessary for moving prisoners around (1)

"It could be worse, I could be in your position."

Realising that the orc might was talking to him, Gollum looked up from his muttering. "What position does it mean, preciousss?"

"Oh nothing… nothing." There was a strict rule in Lugbúrz, that prisoners were not to be told of their fate until they were actually delivered to the torture chamber. It made them more difficult to deal with, and besides, it spoiled the surprise.

Ignoring the wails of "Nasssty orcses, preciouss! Gollum! Gollum!" (2) Ghashborg bound, gagged and blindfolded Gollum, and led him down far too many staircases towards the Witch King's personal torture chamber in the depths of Barad-dûr.

(1.) Commonly referred to as 'The Bondage Cupboard' by some of the cruder orcs, and regularly pilfered by newly-weds.

(2.) And privately wondering what in Arda the thing was doing in Mordor wearing nothing but a loincloth. Yes, it was a hot fiery desert, but that was no reason for indecency.

TBC