Alright, here we are!

I didn't take that long, did I?

I'm sorry! I've pictured this a million times but it's just so hard to write down.

Oh well.

Onward!

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Pippin slowly awoke. His first thought was expected: Where am I? He cautiously opened one eye, then the other. What he saw frightened him more than anything he had ever seen.

He was in the middle of a dark camp teeming with orcs. They were simply everywhere, eating, sharpening weapons, arguing, and busily packing. His wrists and ankles were bound in front of him, and he thought he could feel a large bump on his head. But as far as the young hobbit could tell, he was in one piece.

Where is Merry? His mind whispered to him. Pippin was surprised to find that he did not know. He craned his head over his shoulder to look around. All he saw was more orcs, but- wait! Was that him? His heart sank. It was indeed Merry, bound in a similar fashion and lying still. How had they gotten themselves into this mess?

Pippin banished his thoughts and instead turned to his bonds. They were cruelly tight, and he could hardly move. He tried turning over, but some of the nearby orcs saw.

"Awake at last, aren't you, little maggot?" one of them stepped forward and prodded Pippin's stiff legs. Pippin made no outward signs, but he could not resist wriggling forward, away from the horrid touch.

The orcs laughed and several crowded closer, eager to make Pippin squirm away.

"What are you doing, you slugs? You know our orders! Get back to work! Prepare to leave!" A huge Uruk barged through the crowd, shoving the others out of the way. "Where is that good-for-nothing Grishnakh? Him and his lads should have been here by now! Filthy half-breed Northerners…" He trailed off into a long string of curses.

"Then what did we bring 'em for if not for fun?" One of the braver (or stupider) orcs stepped forward. "I came for a bit of sport! Who says we can't do anything?" Several orcs also advanced and joined him.

"Yeah! These little ones will be fun!" A small, short orc drew his sword and stood over Pippin. Pippin had hardly acknowledged him when he was scooped up and thrown out of the way. From his new position he saw another sword fly through the air, swiftly beheading the first orc.

"I, Ugluk, say we can't do anything! If you idiots had even paid a bit of attention you would know that we are NOT to hurt the Halflings! Saruman wants them alive and UN-spoiled, is why, you scum. And-"

He was quickly cut off by the arrival of another troop of orcs. This one was much smaller than the group of orcs there already, and it was composed of shorter, broader orcs. The group guarding him quickly dispersed and went elsewhere, probably looking for the last of the food or something equally entertaining.

Pippin found that for a moment he was left alone with the headless corpse. His eyes darted side to side, and upon seeing no guards, he inched closer to it. The dead hand still held his sharp blade, and it was steady. Pippin drew it over the bonds on his hands and pulled, hardly daring to breathe. There! It was cut! Pippin quickly looped the rope back around his wrists much looser, then scooted away from the corpse and lay still, watching and listening.

There appeared to be a fight brawling out between the leader of the new pack, probably Grishnakh, and Ugluk. He kept shouting something that sounded like "The HALFLINGS were wanted alive, you imbecile! Only the HALFLINGS!" Grishnakh was angrily shouting something intelligible and gesturing to something on the ground. Had Pippin been closer, he would have heard the importance of their argument.

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"What are you blabbering about? My master wants all of 'em!" Grishnakh said sharply. Ugluk bristled and turned, but instead shouted to the remainder of the orcs.

"Get yer selves moving! Nothing to see here! Off with you!" The orcs grumbled amongst themselves, but walked away and joined their fellow travelers. "Now," Ugluk said. "What's this about?" He gestured to the stiff, bound figure next to Gishnakh's feet.

"My master, Sauron the Great, wants all of the scum that we found alive."

"Well, my master, Saruman the Wise, wanted only the Halflings- alive and unspoiled! And I am in charge of this crew!" Ugluk moved to draw his sword, but Grishnakh seized his arm and pointed him to where the hobbits lay.

"Them? What's the use of them? If Saruman wants information, I doubt he'll get it from them. What would they know about anything? If anyone knows anything, it would be a Man, their leader." He pointed to his captive. Ugluk laughed.

"That scum, their leader? Bah. He's naught but a ragged beggar. The one we killed, that one was the leader." He said proudly.

Grishnakh leered at him. "Exactly. An excellent move on your part. He would have surely known the most. But since you stupidly shot him, this one will have to do." Ugluk growled and again reached for his sword.

"I am the leader of this group, and I will make the decisions of who lives or not! And I only came for Halflings. The filthy tark will only get in the way." Grishnakh smiled slyly.

"Well then, great Ugluk, what exactly is your plan then? What happens if they attempt to escape, which will surely happen?"

"They won't escape." Ugluk growled. Grishnakh's smile grew.

"Yes, yes, but how will you, ah, discipline them? Your master wants them alive and unspoiled, meaning unharmed. What will your plan be then?" He paused.

"The tark…he is their friend. He traveled with them. Bring him, if not for your master, then for you. For, what's the word, a bargaining chip."

Ugluk seemed to consider.

"Fine," he finally growled. "But if he's no relation to them, he's gone. And if he's one bit of trouble, we're killing him on the spot." Ugluk laughed grimly. "And if some of the boys want a bit of fun, perhaps he can aid them." Grishnakh laughed with him.

"Alright then. We'll throw them together and go from there."

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Pippin watched curiously as the two orcs argued. Finally they turned, and Ugluk walked away. But Grishnakh, the other one, stooped and grabbed hold of something. He dragged it behind him and walked toward Pippin, a horrible grin on his face.

"We've got a bit of a surprise for you, yes. Perhaps you've seen it before." With another grin, he dropped his burden and stalked off. Pippin crept closer to it, a terrible feeling in his heart. Once he got close enough to see who it was, his jaw dropped and he trembled head to foot.

"Strider."

He half whispered the word, wishing he was wrong and it wasn't him. Because in truth, Strider looked terrible. His left arm had a savage cut in it that was bleeding steadily. But even worse was a broken shaft of an arrow protruding from his right shoulder. And to top it all off, he had several huge bruises across his face.

Suddenly he felt another weight being dropped beside him. He turned, his eyes moist.

"Pippin? Oh, Pippin, it is you." Merry gasped and his eyes traveled across Pippin's face, searching. "You're not hurt, are you?" Pippin shook his head numbly. "What's wrong?" Pippin gestured to Strider with his bound hands. Merry gasped sharply.

"Is he…alive?" he whispered.

"I don't know." Pippin murmured. He carefully rolled Strider onto his back and pressed his head to his chest. There it was, faint but steady. A pulse.

"Strider, wake up! Come on, please wake up!" Merry called softly.

Aragorn slowly awoke. His first sensation was an excruciating pain in his right arm. He moaned.

"That's it, Strider, come on! You can do it!"

Aragorn's foggy head gradually recognized the voice of Merry. But why is he here? Where is here? He tried opening his eyes. It took longer than he liked, but he eventually pried them open. The small forms of Merry and Pippin came into view.

He smiled softly.

Merry and Pippin sighed in relief.

"Oh Strider, we thought you were dead." Pippin said, still sounding terrified. Aragorn blinked in confusion. Dead? He didn't feel great, but dead?

"Where are we?" he asked no one in particular. Merry answered.

"In an orc camp. We were captured, and I guess you were too." Aragorn frowned and tried to sit up. Instantly both of his arms screamed at him, and he noticed for the first time that his hands were behind his back, and his legs were bound securely together. Captured? Well, that would explain his pounding headache. Suddenly it all came back. Frodo, Boromir, Legolas, the orcs…

"Are you two alright?" he managed to ask. They both nodded.

"Are you?" Pippin questioned him. Aragorn almost laughed, but gave Pippin a smile.

"I've been better, I suppose." Pippin smiled back uneasily.

"Strider, you look…well, terrible." Merry said quickly. Aragorn sighed.

"I'll bet. But there is nothing we can do about it now. Try to rest. I have a feeling we are leaving soon."

Merry and Pippin nodded and turned over. Aragorn tried to get in a more comfortable position, failed, and merely lay where he was. As he stared into the night sky, he prayed to the Valar that at least the hobbits would come out of this alive.

Meanwhile, Grishnakh watched their interaction and grinned.

TBC…

Please review! I give myself a week to update. See you then! Oh, and my apologies to Leif of Rohan and mina. So sorry, but I was unable to respond to your reviews. Once again, please include your email address!

QueenofFlarmphgal