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Aragorn watched silently as the younger of the hobbits also vanished into the melding darkness. Not until he was sure they were long gone did Aragorn allow himself to relax against the tree, if you could call it relaxing. His back throbbed with pain, and even the slight contact it made with the tree was enough to set it off. Aragorn waited with clenched teeth for the pain to subside, and when it didn't, decided to ignore it the best he could.

Now that the hobbits were safe, or as safe as possible given the circumstances, he had time to figure out how he could escape himself. But there wasn't much to consider.

Aragorn was still securely bound to the tree, with his hands bound between his back and the trunk. He had no access to anything sharp or even resembling a knife, not that he could somehow get it. The only way he could think of getting himself free was to grind the cord against the tree's rough bark, but that would mean putting pressure on his battered chest and arrow wound, which couldn't be done.

The ranger sighed in frustration and tried to sidle along the tree to get a look at the battle. As he carefully inched to the side, his back suddenly caught the tree's rough bark and he could not help emitting a weak cry of pain. Still, he pushed himself just a little more…

There. He could see many torches, and in their flickering light the shapes of orcs, and horses with tall figures upon them. An idea slowly formulated in his mind. If he could somehow get one of the Rider's attention, perhaps they would come to investigate the sound and find him.

Of course, there was always the chance that the supposed savior would simply send an arrow at him to investigate, but that was a risk he would have to take. But what could he possibly do to grasp the attention of a preoccupied Rider? An obvious answer was to shout for help. But Aragorn seriously doubted that he could muster enough strength to call loud enough. But if he could automatically generate an outburst…

Aragorn realized what he must do. Slowly, he pulled himself forward until he was straining at his bonds. Then, praying someone would hear, the ranger slammed his injured back against the tree.

An agonized scream rang across the forest, but Aragorn was in too much pain to hear it. His back blazed with a new intensity and he could not see, hear, or speak. The only thing he could feel was the pain rising up, threatening to take over him. Until a few minutes late, when he was sure that the pain would get no worse, he tried to regain his senses. But what he saw was not reassuring.

Before him stood two orcs, grinning broadly and fingering their clumsy blades. Aragorn felt a sick feeling rise in his chest, but he would not allow himself to show any fear. He stared determinedly ahead.

"Well, it seems that our little friend is lonesome, eh? Perhaps he's sad that all of our boys are off fighting. Let's cheer him up, shall we?" The orc who had spoken cut the ropes binding Aragorn to the tree in a quick thrust that grazed his chest. Aragorn had no opportunity to express his opinion, however, as the other orc jerked him to his feet by pulling on his wounded shoulder. The ranger moaned softly, but somehow got to his feet, leaning heavily against the tree.

The first orc glanced warily back at the fighting.

"We don't want any of them Whiteskins interfering with our game, do we? Better gag this one again." The other nodded in agreement and found the cloth in the dirt, and again pressed it against Aragorn's mouth. This time Aragorn had no energy to object, as he was preoccupied with trying to keep himself upright. As soon as the orc finished, he was rewarded by giving Aragorn a swift punch directly to the abdomen.

Not expecting an attack, Aragorn fell to his knees, wheezing and trying to will his lungs to work again. But all too soon, another hit came this time to ribs. He only heard the snap of another breakage before he was forced to the ground by a kick to his ravaged back.

Above the loud buzzing in his ears, Aragorn was somehow able to make out the orcs' sneers.

"Looks like he's already dead, he does! Well, he hasn't much farther to go!" The remark was soon followed by the swipe of a dagger, etching a long gash onto Aragorn's leg.

Somewhere in his escaping consciousness Aragorn found a sick sort of humor. 'Well,' he thought exasperatedly. 'This may hinder my escape.' But he had no time to ponder this, as he found himself pulled up again, this time by his bruised throat. An orc's leering face entered his slowly disappearing line of vision.

"This is the end, you sniveling pig! So sorry it had to end so soon, but we really must get back to wiping out your little friends."

"Hah! The scum probably thought he would be rescued!" The other orc smirked as he brought his scimitar up to the only uncovered part of the ranger's neck. But Aragorn did not hear this last part. The only thing he was aware of was the pain, and that was slowly disappearing. Combined with his increasing lack of air, Aragorn's consciousness began to slip away. He blissfully welcomed the escape to his pain, and unknowing to the orc, he blacked out in his grip.

But if Aragorn had waited a few seconds more to give in, he would have seen the arrow that directly pierced the orc's sword hand, causing the orc to drop his prone body. But then several more arrows followed the first, killing both orcs, one of which slumped its hideous form over the ranger's failing one.

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Well, there we go! An update that actually was on time-ish!

Next chapter should be up soon, especially if my teachers keep letting up on my hw! And also if I keep getting wonderful reviews like the ones I received from viggomaniac, iheartquines, Luinthien, Leif of Rohan, and grumpy. And special thanks to Ainu Laire for catching my mistake! And reviewer responses are out!

See you soon!

QueenofFlarmphgal

Oh, and apologies to grumpy, whom I could not email responses to. Sorry!