Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings belong to J.R.R Tolkien, the only people I own are Alenor Talagand, Bréil, Sebastian and Victoria.
REVISED and EDITED Fate's Paths-Chap6-Living Nightmares-
It was of the feeling of complete wrongness that pulled Alenor out of murky, black slumber she had been submerged in. Her first awareness was a worried tug of confusion. It felt like things were not what they were supposed to be. Fading in and out of her hearing was the steady drip of water as it splashed onto the floor. The close-by sound of scurrying feet, assaulted her hearing. Whether the noise was rats or actually people, Alenor could not tell. It did not matter. What mattered was that she knew that they were not the sounds she was supposed to be noticing. There was no way in Middle-Earth that she was laying where she had passed out. A hazy half-formed question flitted across her mind, where did I pass out?
Alenor remained silent for a long while, gathering as much information about her surroundings as was possible with the fuzziness inhabiting her head. From what she could gather she was lying in a cave of some sort. She realized this when she accidentally discovered that she was truly hearing the ringing echo of booted footsteps. Footsteps? Alenor felt her breathing become labored with tight panic. It was people or close enough to them. A sense of urgency began to creep through her bones; the sense of wrongness grew, prompting her to move, to run. It felt like there was an invisible weight on her though, pushing her to the ground, urging caution against movement.
At last, she could not hold onto any more patience and Alenor forced her eyes open. The first thing saw was the marred, jagged ceiling above her. Her breath hitched even fiercer with panic. Reaching out Alenor reached out and felt the ground around her; sharp crude edges of stones meant her fingers. She was not covered with a protecting blanket either.
Shivering from the fright and cold, Alenor struggled to gather her scattered emotions. Taking a deep and hopefully calming breath, she began to slowly lever herself into a sitting position. A hand drifted absently to her side. Her hand brushed through air. My sword. I dropped it in the storm. I'm completely weaponless. A dull throb rose in her head as all the terror she was feeling rushed to a heightened point. She felt like she could barely breathe.
Forcing herself back to the apparent calmness, Alenor shifted her body into an easy position in which she could get up with almost no noise. As she shifted her left leg, a searing jolt of pain that felt like fingers of fire devouring her flesh, traveled up the limb.
Before she could manage to stifle the scream of pain, Alenor had fallen back onto the rough, floor, tears of agony streaming down her face. Her fingers had found a dead-lock clasp over the source of pain. The pain coming from her leg was unbearable. Struggling she attempted to stem the tears and control the screams of pain that poured from her lips. It was nearly impossible.
Biting down on her lower lip and stopping the last echo of the scream, Alenor remained motionless for a long drawn-out moment. She prayed that she had called no attention to herself by the sudden scream. My leg's broken; the fact came with numbed certainty that jogged her mind into a state of clear-thinking as the knowledge of her danger finally worked its way past the denying defenses in her mind. I'm in so much trouble! Eru Alenor, couldn't you have thought for once in your miserable life and not run away without any notice?
Slowly, as no approaching footfall warned her, the tension began seeping from her and a soft sigh of relief escaped her lips. Slumping limply back onto the floor she closed her eyes, and attempted to ignore the protruding rocks digging painfully into her bruised back. The scream had gone unheard or unnoticed. A sudden screeching, like metal grating against metal screamed through her ears. Alenor noticed a little late that she had let her tension go to soon.
The unhurried sound of footsteps drifted towards her. Alenor tried to make herself look unconscious. For a long moment there was silence above her and she began to feel confident that that her cell keeper was going to leave her in peace, when she felt a booted foot connect with her left leg. The attack was sudden, unexpected, forcing a scream from Alenor's clamped lips, and she jerked away, attempting to be free as a lightening bolt of pain twisted up her leg. She only caused herself more pain. Her eyes flashed open involuntarily to meet the leering face of an Orc. Seeing her eyes open he looked at her, a cruel grin donning his ugly face.
"Yer awake," the Orc sneered. "You scream so pretty human. Let me hear it again."
Alenor shook her head, her eyes wide with fright. She pushed herself up on her arms and dragged herself back away from the leering creature. The skin shredded from her fingers as she scrambled for purchase on the jagged rocks. Blood created a gruesome trail behind her. "No, please no," she begged, her leg throbbed with each movement.
Jeering at her the Orc advanced struck at her again and again, laughing in amusement at the screams of pain that came from his victim.
Tears began streaming down Alenor's face, as the pain from the numerous kicks spread through her. Her broken leg was being smashed mercilessly against the floor by the sure-footed kicks of the Orc. It knew how to inflict excruciating pain.
As blackness started to creep over her, the pain becoming too much for her to bear, the door across the room smashed open and a huge, lumbering Orc marched into the room.
"What der ye think yer doing?" the larger Orc exclaimed. Beady black eyes sough out his prisoner lying nearly unconscious on the floor. "Stupid Snaga."
The Orc spun away from Alenor, and cowered away from his leader. Almost sobbing with relief, though knowing that the relief was going to be short lived, Alenor sagged in on her herself, drawing herself into a fetal ball. It was hard to accomplish such a small feat with her dragging leg, but the instinctive fear to protect herselft raged within her.
"Just 'aving a little fun with 'er," Snaga whimpered stepping back. "She's still awake. Still time to hurt her."
"My express orders!" the Orc roared, wrenching his cruelly edged scimitar from its belt loot. Angered he advanced on the helpless Orc. "Yer not to touch her! She's mine."
The Orc collapsed in a shapeless heap on the floor, begging forgiveness from his Master. In towering rage the leader swept upon his minion and cut off his head with a swift, sickening, slice.
Black blood sprayed across Alenor's face, as she watched the events unfold. She prayed fervently that the Orc wouldn't remember her lying there. She prayed that he would forget the human screams that had echoed from this very cell.
Finished with his task the leader turned to her, his eyes shining with malevolence, a sneer on his face. "Take 'er to the central chamber where we can 'ave some fun." He directed the comment to the second underling in the room.
Obediently, the Orc shuffled forward, not daring to disobey the enraged Orc. His fingers dug cruelly into Alenor's arms as he hoisted her into a half-sitting position so he could drag her. Screaming, she fought back, her recent training in defense from her brothers, fled from her mind, reducing her to a pitiful creature striving for survival.
A fierce, unexpected backhand across the face, drew a thin stream of blood across her cheek, leaving Alenor momentarily stunned. Dazedly she fought to gather herself back together, but by that time she managed to gain a slight control, she was being dragged across the floor. She was forced instead to screw her eyes shut as lances pain shot up her leg and her head banged repeatedly against the floor. I will not scream again. I will not give these twisted creatures the chance to hear me scream again. Alenor, bit her bottom lip until it was torn and bleeding. She didn't even try to open her eyes, to gauge the route through which they were taking her, she already knew that it would be impossible for her to remember it. Her outer defenses were already crumbling
Abruptly, Alenor's head smashed against the ground, harder then before and her eyes flashed open to see the leader of the band of Orcs glaring down at her. Mustering a glare and using the last of her defiance she spat in his ugly face, knowing instantly it was foolish as she heard the roar of outrage.
Wincing, Alenor was pulled to her feet with her arms pulled above her head. For a moment she fought against them, but a well aimed foot kicked her broken leg and she crumbled, her arms dragging against the manacles tightening about her wrists. The Orcs laughed in response to her suffering.
She was hardly aware that the Orcs had drawn themselves into a large circle, eagerly awaiting for something to happen. A sharp crack of a whip suddenly whistled through the and tore at the flesh of her back. A scream was startled out of her, and she heard the Orcs hoot with glee.
Do not scream, do not scream. Tears stung in the corners of her eyes as the whip cracked down, curling around her legs before lashing out. She felt blood leaking down her chin as she tore through her lower lip. With a resounding snap the whip descended upon her defenseless back. Again, again and again it bit at her. Alenor's eyes closed as the pain began to seep through the cracks of her mind, tearing down the resilience she tried to erect.
Sobbing, a scream erupted from lips, as her last defense fell to ash. She pulled at the manacles around her wrist, tearing the flesh of her wrists as the whip came down again, deepening an already opened wound.
Alenor could never recall afterward how long she heard the sound of the whip whistling down, or haunting jeers of the Orcs whispering in her ears. Her mind collapsed upon itself, dragging Alenor down into a world of half-shadows and thoughts. Here she could feel only a distant echo of pain and the distant taunting of herself screaming in agony. Her earlier oath to remain silent, lay crumbled, useless and forgotten.
Her mind came together in shattered pieces, as Alenor felt the presence of the Orcs depart. She felt herself falling to the ground as they released her from their merciless torment. She didn't have the energy to move, to think. She remained there, her body trembling as she began to feel something ebbing around her. Fighting with her elusive mind, Alenor slowly became aware that it was blood. Her blood.
Alenor couldn't find the strength to care, even though she could feel her lifeblood feeding the earth around her. For a vain moment she struggled to pull her shattered remnants of self together, but failed.. Her body ached, it was a distant reminder of something, but she couldn't move. Her effort having exhausted her, Alenor's eyes succumbed to the waiting shadows of unconsciousness, her blood seeping into an ever-widening pool around her.
She didn't see the small Orc, creep into the main cavern. She did not feel anything as he nudged her battered body with his foot. Seeing no response in the human captive the Orc raised his curved dagger above the girl's heart.