Alone
There was only darkness. Couldn't say whether she was sleeping or not. Erenien groaned as the cold chains stung her bruised wrists. She pried open her eyes and peered out, squinting at the crack high above which illuminated the surroundings in an eerie light. Whether it was day or night, she couldn't say. She kept her head in touch with the ground, yearning for the ease which the cold stone floor provided for her throbbing head. A muffled sob escaped her lips. Where am I? I...I was there, in the forest, with the stag. How did I end up here? It hurts. Eru... it hurts.
A sudden clank sounded to her left, jolting her. The sudden movement sent another wave of pain through her already throbbing head. A door creaked open, letting in more of the silvery light, revealing the dark hands reaching for her. Strong arms caught her hair and dragged her out. There was nothing she could do as her body refused to behave according to her will. The prick of the cold winds brutally reminded her of the numerous cuts crisscrossing her arms. Many new ones formed on her skin by the sharp stones and thorns lining the dark, stone walkway. There were too many of them, eyes gleaming with malice. She was made to kneel in front of a high seat, occupied by a dark one. She stared at the pitch-black eyes which drilled into the very core of her soul. It was hard to resist the urge to shrink away into nothingness. Stay strong, Eryn.
With a wave from his hand, her body slouched forward as the arms that supported it were withdrawn.
"Well, well, who do we have here?" the one seated on the throne growled.
"She's the one you have been searching for, master," came a reply from behind.
He rose, descended the stairs leading to his throne and moved towards her. The ring of metal echoed in the bare walls. Erenien shut her eyes tight and winced upon feeling the cold steel biting her neck. He lifted her chin with the tip of his sword.
"She's a weakling, isn't she? Her mother was far more rebellious," he said, eyes swirling with malice.
She tried not to look at him, his eyes especially. "My mother? Where is she?", she asked, trying to keep out the trembling in her voice, but failed. Stop sounding like a scared puppy!
"Gone. Or to be more precise, we sent her away, never to return," he replied with a flurry of his hand.
"What have you done to her?" she squeaked, finally mustering the courage to look him in the eyes.
"Oh, we simply cut her throat. Her husband, your father, went before her," replied a hideous voice to her left.
"No...!" Nothing came out of her throat. Her parents... They had died protecting her from Orc arrows.
"It seems she is not a threat like you supposed, master" a crooked voice sounded behind her.
"Hmm, but we don't want to take any risks, do we? She was supposed to be a meal for the spiders that night. She and those elvish scums that took her away."
Her head shot up. Those who died beside me... were not my parents?
"Yet she survives. She herself is a threat, like her mother. I will not risk it anymore," the leader said, encircling her.
"Do you mean to kill her, master?" a hoarse voice asked. Enya tried to resist the shiver that ran up her spine and failed.
"Kill her? No."
He came to stand in front of her and leaned forward, "Whatever your mother passed onto you, I want to rip... it... out," he whispered in her ear. She shuddered.
"I bet it will be amusing to hear her scream. A pity your parents or the Elven king are not here to witness it," said one of them, coming forward, and took both her hands behind her in a death grip.
The thrumming of her heart elevated to a higher level as she was dragged again, this time into a dark building. The tall towers and high archways with intricate carvings served as the only reminiscences of Elvish architecture. There was only one place whose glory was tainted thus- Dol Guldur.
The bats screeched and the wind moaned. A new sound was added to the sounds of the night. She fought against the chains that restrained her to the stone table. A black crystal was placed at her lips, which turned pale as it sucked a part of her soul. She screamed till her throat went dry, till blood tasted rusty at the back of her throat. When she was dragged away from the stone table, or the chains came back to her wrists, she didn't know. For this time, the darkness had won.
Note
Dol Guldur was once an Elvish fortress. Later it became an Orc stronghold.