For one thing Morgoth had achieved was to convince the Orcs beyond refutation that the Elves were crueller than themselves, taking captives only for 'amusement', or to eat them (as the Orcs would do at need).
-Morgoth's Ring, Volume X of "A History Of Middle Earth" By J.R.R. Tolkien
Snaga couldn't see anything, which was probably for the best because he could feel the blistering sun. They marched for hours; Snaga couldn't guess quite how long, but he felt that it was all day. It was a hot Indian-summer day; Snaga sweated and stumbled the entire march. The darkness provided by the blindfold was his only comfort, protecting him from the garish, cruel light of the sun. He was horribly thirsty; he wanted water but he didn't bother to beg for it (and no one gave him any).
When they finally took the blindfold off Snaga found himself in a dark, stone room lit by a fire. He instinctively backed himself into a corner. There were three elves; the soldier that captured him, the elvish Captain, and a third elf that Snaga didn't recognize, plus a Gondorian man who appeared to be a captain as well. Snaga took quick inventory of the room; there wasn't much. There was a fire in the hearth, a chair, and a workbench. Snaga was expecting to see more by the way of torture devices.
The blonde and tall elf-Captain loomed over Snaga where he stood cowering in the corner.
"Do you have any weapons on you?" He asked; his voice was deep and intimidating.
"No," Snaga replied, his voice shaking. His dagger was the only weapon he carried, and that had already been taken from him when he was captured.
"Strip." The Captain commanded. Snaga's gut sank; he couldn't obey this.
"Strip now." The elf captain became impatient and he struck the orc across the face. Snaga trembled as he took off his cowl and dropped it to the ground. He knelt to take off his sandals but not his bandage-leggings that came up to his knees. Snaga hesitated before pulling his tunic over his head. Instead of dropping it to the ground, he held it protectively over his hips. The elf captain roughly snatched it away and tossed it to the side.
There was a moment of silence and confusion when they saw that there was nothing between the orc's legs. Snaga looked down and crossed his arms over himself, refusing to meet their confused stares.
"What are you?" The captain's voice was low and grave, like a growl.
Snaga looked up, making a confused whimper.
"Are you a girl, orc?"
Snaga shook his head no. "I'm not a girl." He said in a small, shaking voice.
The elf who had captured him spoke up:
"It's just a eunuch," He sneered disdainfully.
Snaga didn't know it, but there was a sense of relief in the room that they hadn't captured a girl. Elves can't torture a girl...not even an orc one. The captain turned to the elf soldier who had captured Snaga.
"Elaenar," he addressed the soldier and motioned to his subordinate. On command the elf, called Elaenar, stepped forward and together they grabbed the orc by both arms and dragged him to the chair. They tied his hands behind his back and bound his ankles to the legs of the chair.
Snaga was naked, hungry, exhausted and afraid. He hadn't eaten or slept in hours. He'd never seen an elf before, his mortal enemy, and now he sat in the presence of three of them as their prisoner. He wondered if they really were going to cut off his feet and hands (and eyes) after all. The elf captain stood squarely in front of him, tall and imposing.
"Yesterday a company of your soldiers marched out of your camp; which way are they going?"
Snaga quaked before answering. "They're going to Lug-Gülguh," Snaga's voice cracked when he spoke.
The Gondorian captain spoke up:
"What is Lug-Gülguh?"
"Barad Mendolin." The one called Elaenar said; there was subtle hostility in his voice, as if it were a stupid question. "The orcs call it Lug-Gülguh."
The elf captain looked skeptical. "What do you mean they're traveling to Lug-Gülguh?" He asked the prisoner.
"They're traveling north along the river. They were ordered there to reinforce the garrison." Snaga's voice was hoarse; he barely had the courage to get the words out and answer his captor.
The elf who captured him snorted. "That's ridiculous, Barad Mendolin is a heavily fortified stronghold." He said, speaking directly to his captain. "They have plenty of soldiers stationed there already. Why would they shift soldiers to Barad Mendolin?"
"He's lying," The third elf chided, while holding a short sword in the flames of the fire in the hearth.
"What do your spies say of it?" The Gondorian captain asked the elves.
"Our spies don't say that Barad Mendolin is in need of two hundred more soldiers." Elaenar answered, acid dripping in his voice.
"Are you lying to me, orc?" The captain asked.
Snaga shook his head no. "I'm not lying." He pleaded.
The Gondorian captain spoke: "Captain Thrandar, if we're to intercept and ambush the orc company, whichever way they went, we will need to attack quickly while they're still on the march and exposed. We need to strike before it's too late."
"We're time-bound, orc." The elf-captain knelt to Snaga's level.
"You're going to tell us the truth, and you'll do it quickly. Now tell me, which way did they go?"
Snaga gulped. "They went to Lug-Gülguh, I swear it."
The elf captain turned to the third elf who was still holding his blade into the fire.
"Lúthian," He commanded.
The elf nodded. He brought the glowing hot blade out of the fire. Snaga squirmed in the chair and whined.
"One more time, orc." The captain said in a low voice. "Which way did they go?"
Snaga gulped back a sob. "Please I'm not lying to yo-"
Snaga screamed as the hot blade was pressed into the skin on his shoulder.
"Why would they send more soldiers to an already heavily manned fortress?" The captain asked. His voice was raised this time, he was shouting at the orc. Snaga was hunched over, head bent, shaking and crying.
"Speak!" the captain commanded.
"There was an outbreak," Snaga whimpered. "A plague; it wiped out the garrison. They have less than a hundred soldiers at Lug-Gülguh. The soldiers from our camp were ordered there to reinforce it."
The elves turned to each other and murmured something in their own language. They exchanged a few words with the Gondorian captain in the common tongue, but Snaga wasn't paying any attention to what they were saying; he sat hunched over and quivering, taking short and shallow breaths, trying to grit through the pain of his burnt and throbbing skin on his shoulder. Suddenly, a hand gripped his hair from behind and his head was yanked backwards. The one elf, Elaenar, placed a knife to his throat.
"Is this a trap orc?" the elf asked. "Are we going to be ambushed?"
"It's not a trap, I swear it!" He sniveled.
The Gondorian captain spoke up. "Captain Thrandar, if we strike now we can catch them before they reach the fortress."
"I'm not convinced yet," The elf captain said. Then, turning to the orc he asked, "What makes you so sure that the orc army went to Lug-Gülguh? How do you know this?"
Snaga choked back a sob and spoke, "I heard it with my own ears. I was there when my master, our captain of our camp, was delivered with the orders to send soldiers to Lug-Gülguh. I heard it myself, I swear."
"Is that so?" The elf captain purred menacingly.
"Let's put your word to the test and see if your story changes." The captain burned him again, this time on the other shoulder. Snaga screamed and struggled in the chair; nearly tipping himself over.
"Do you still swear it?" The captain asked.
"Yes! Yes, I swear it!" Snaga screamed.
"I don't have patience for this," The Gondorian captain spoke up. "I will gather my men for an assault with or without you. You may not believe what you've been told, but I am well enough convinced, and I will not miss this opportunity to strike on the orc army before it's too late."
"Fine then; you won't need to go alone. My elves will go with you. I trust your judgement." The elf captain replied. He turned his attention toward the trembling prisoner:
"Now listen closely, tomorrow our soldiers will march out to meet the orcs exactly where you say they are. If we don't find the orc party there, and we discover that you lied to us…" He raised the scorching sword blade and hovered it just over Snaga's cheek. Snaga whimpered and flinched. He could feel the heat from the blade against his cheek.
"...it will be a terrible day for you. Elves can torture their prisoners too, orc. Don't you dare suppose that we won't punish you horribly if you've lied to us. If you've deceived us in any way, confess it now."
Snaga didn't say anything but he shook his head "no".
"Very well then." the captain lowered the scorching blade to Snaga's relief.
He turned to his subordinate: "Lock this prisoner in a cell. If he hasn't told us the truth then we'll make good on our promise."
The elf who captured him nodded and undid the restraints binding Snaga to the chair. Snaga was allowed to dress before being roughly escorted down the hall. He was shoved into a small, empty room. He stumbled onto the stone floor and heard the sound of the door slam and lock behind him.
Snaga crawled into the farthest corner and clutched himself, crying and shaking. The burns on his shoulders hurt horribly. The side of his face ached from where he had been struck with a sword...not to mention the multiple times he had been back-handed. The last twelve hours had been a nightmare and this wasn't the end of it. For all he knew this wasn't even the worst of it. He lay down carefully on the stone floor, mindful of his many bruises, and cried himself to sleep.
Note from the author: Thank you for reading this chapter! If you like this story, please feel free to leave a review. Any feedback is greatly appreciated. Hope you stay tuned for more
