Hey there, here I am on an actual Monday again, shock horror! Anyway, I am up rather past my bedtime, so I'll apologise her for the inevitable typos and say that I hope you enjoy it.

I will also say that this chapter may be a little disturbing in places, so heads up. I actually got a lump in my throat while writing it, but I promise its all plot related, and not needless whump. Anyhow, on to the chapter!

Chapter Fifty: The Dark Days

Still as the stone beneath her, Nelly stared up at the roof of the cave. Water dripped down onto her face, tracking down her cheek like a tear, but she didn't move. Not a single muscle. Around her, the orcs were talking as they rested, and sheltering from the sun outside. Some of the larger uruks had protested that they keep going, but they had been running for nearly two days, and the others refused to move through the sun again without rest. It seemed to Nelly that they thought the sun far hotter than it really was – the goblins had panted beneath it, their tongues lolling out like dogs as the pale light fell cool on Nelly's face.

She missed the sun. The cave was dank, and reeked of orc, and sweat, and blood.

A hunk of stale bread landed next to her face. Her eyes moved towards it, but she kept her body still.

Curled up in the best armchair in Nori's living room, Nelly tried to complete the 'hooded knot' that Ori had been teaching her for the thirty sixth time. She was determined to beat Bróin this time, to master the knot before he could – and ideally before he showed up this afternoon.

Nelly liked tying knots. She liked having something to do with her hands while she was talking, and even though Mama had said Nelly might start to enjoy the detail of embroidery now that she was fifteen and just entering adolescence, she still found needlework far too finnicky.

"Ridiculous… just ridiculous," muttered Nori, from his desk.

Nelly glanced up. "What is?"

Nori grinned slightly, and nodded his head at the paper in his hand. "This report. 's a reference for one of the lads that wants to join the watchers, talkin' about the time he was guarding this merchant when they were ambushed by orcs. Turns out this kid's strategy was to taunt the kidnappers. the idiot."

"Well did it work? Did they escape?"

"Aye, well, they were rescued."

Nelly frowned slightly. "Then why was it such a bad idea?"

Nori put the report down and grinned. "See, you hear all these stories about brave warriors who get captured and taunt their kidnappers, or who become cowards and beg for their lives – its damn stupidity. Because all they're gonna do is play right into their captors' hands. Tell me, Nell, if someone had kidnapped you, would you beg, and when? And don't go all heroic and dwarven on me – use your noggin."

Nelly paused, and stared down at the rope in her hands. "I would… I'd beg – if I thought that they might be having second thoughts, or if they looked sad."

"Exactly!" said Nori, snapping his fingers. "You'd think. And if you didn't see a sign of second thoughts?"

"Then I wouldn't beg. But I still think you're being unfair. Fili mocked the orcs, when they took him and Papa."

A dark look passed over Nori's face. "Aye, he did, but it wasn't a very sensible thing to do. A brave thing, very brave, but again, he knew what he was doing. He wasn't tryin' to be all noble, he was trying to get the attention away from the kids, and away from your papa. He knew he'd bear the brunt of the attack, for his trouble, and he did. If it's just yourself you've got to worry about, your best off biding your time. You wanna know how I snuck out of jail so many times?"

Despite herself, Nelly grinned. "How?"

"I waited. Once you're caught, you don't fight, or make a nuisance of yourself. Don't speak, unless they ask you a question, don't move unless they want you too. Don't give them any reason or incentive to pay you any attention. Then, when they ain't looking and you see a chance of escape – a chance that's at least sixty-forty in your favour, slip away."

Nelly considered this for a moment. "Alright… But say it wasn't guards that had you. Say it was orcs. Would you still go all limp and cowardly?"

"I'd be quieter," said Nori gravely, "but that ain't cowardice. There's nothing cowardly against protecting your own skin, Nell. Orcs want to hurt. They want to kill. If they take you alive, they either have orders or a full stomach. You wanna give them every reason to keep you in one piece. You don't put up a fight, you don't smart-arse them, no matter how good a quip you can think of," he winked at her, "you just lie there like a good little rabbit. And you use the most important weapon you have."

Nelly rolled her eyes. "Your brain?"

"Exactly," said Nori, his own eyes glinting. "You laugh now, lass, but a proper trickster uses their brain above all else. Always keep your knives sharp, and your mind sharper. You use your brain, you watch, and you wait. And then, when you see a chance of escape, any chance that's even a slight bit possible, you go for it."

Nelly narrowed her eyes, wondering if Nori was lacing a trick question into their conversation. He was good at that. "You don't wait? Wait until the odds are working for you?"

"Not with orcs, lass," said Nori gently. "They get their paws on you, like I said, they're either saving you for later, either under orders, or, perhaps, meaning to take you back to their holes. Trust me, soon as you're a slave to those bastards, your chance of escape is good as gone."

A chill ran down Nelly's spine and she grinned, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, if I'm all demure and tame like Pearl and they think I'm weak as a rabbit, what'd they want a slave like me for?"

Nori's face changed so quickly that Nelly blinked. His eyes widened, and his eyebrows slid upwards towards the centre of his forehead, and he went past pale and became very green. "I'm not going to think about that, lass, and I suggest you don't, either."

Nelly put down her rope and tilted her head to the side. "Why? I know that they treat their slaves terribly, I know it would be awful, but why'd you talk about kidnapping and fighting, but not-"

Nori shook his head, his face darkening further. It was like a thundercloud swallowing a summer's day. "No Nelly. The things that happen to the male slaves is bad enough, is just – words can't describe it – but for women…"

"Why is it worse for women?"

Nori closed his eyes. "I'm not – I can't be the one to tell you that, Nell. We're not going to talk about it, alright?"

"Alright," she said slowly. "But then how am I going to know what to do if it happens?"

"It won't," said Nori sharply, and he opened his eyes. "It won't, Nelly, because we aren't ever gonna let something like that happen to you. I swear it. But I mean it, now. Let's talk about something else."

One of the orcs nearby gave a grating bark of a laugh, and Nelly was dragged forcefully out of the memory.

"Eat it, maggot," the orc said. "You'll need it, soon enough."

Nelly wanted to glare at him, to scream until her throat bled raw, but she kept her face impassive, expressionless, and reached out to the bread. They made no move to stop her, so she took it, and began to eat. It was dry, and past stale, but there was no mould on it yet. She wondered if she would have eaten it anyway. Her stomach was crumbling. The bread made little impact on that.

I wonder how long it takes a hobbit to starve to death, she thought miserably. A week? Two? Bilbo managed on scraps in Mirkwood, and Papa lasted a couple of days carrying Fíli without food or water. It would depend how long they carried her for, if they made her run or not. If they gave her water. Her throat ached at the thought of water.

But they weren't trying to kill her. She knew that, she had known before they had taken her. Her guess was that they were under orders – orcs wanting slaves rarely discriminated by race, and they had been referring to a Master. Of course, the fact that there had been so many attacking the fellowship made it seem very unlikely to be a coincidence, too.

The pain in her throat grew into a lump.

Bróin.

She prayed that Gimli had found him, that Merry and Pippin had looped back and tracked him down before he bled too much. She prayed that his armour had held, that he was alright. But every time she closed her eyes, every time her mind tried to escape from the orcs, she saw him dead-like on the rocky beach, bleeding into the shingle, motionless as they left him behind. She saw him among the corpses of their foes, and she try as she might, she could not prevent herself from wondering whether Bróin was a corpse, too.

Nelly took a deep breath and closed her eyes slowly, trying to will away her tears. They would not just sting – they would give her away, draw the orcs' attention. Any emotion, any sign of feeling would make her vulnerable.

A part of her did not care.

She forced herself to return her attention to the conversation around her. If she could figure out where they were going, her chance of escape would be greater. And if she could focus on the orcs, and not on Bróin, her chance of holding in tears was far better.

At first, there was nothing of use to hear. Just jeering and taunting between the different clans of orcs, but after a little while, their talk turned to their path.

"Uglúk's lot went south, caught another couple of rats for themselves. But there ain't no point in catching up with them. Might as well beat 'em home."

"But we're heading through whiteskins' lands, and the horsemen's swords are sharp. There's safety in numbers."

A third orc gave a harsh laugh. "Too scared to run without the Uruk-hai behind you? Bah, I thought as much. Goblin scum."

"it isn't fear!" squawked the second voice. "It's common sense, and that's something you 'uruk-hai' haven't got!"

Growls and snarls rose above the voices, but a louder, deeper voice broke over them all. "Quiet, quiet! We return home by the quickest road. Those are the orders, and I ain't breaking them. Uglúk can look after his own damned prisoners, you hear?" Grunts and nods answered him. "Good. We leave as soon as dusk falls."

"Damned Lurtz," muttered a goblin closer to Nelly. "Thinks he's in charge of the world." The speaker raised his arms above his head in a stretch that cracked his limbs, and then he twisted, and grinned at Nelly. "But he isn't, is he, girl? He ain't in charge of me. And I'm hungry." Nelly's heart picked up, but she fought to keep her eyes from widening, to keep from showing any signs that she felt anything at all. The goblin grabbed her arms and yanked her across the floor towards him, and Nelly gritted her teeth to keep from crying out. But then he ripped her arm up, his teeth closing around her thumb, and Nelly gasp in a breath to scream.

"Oi!" yelled Lurtz, smacking the goblin on the back of the head. Nelly fell backwards as her hand was released, and she clenched her hands into fists, trying not to breathe too fast, trying not to shake. "What you think you're doing, Snaga?"

"The whore's heavy," Snaga whined, rubbing his skull. "Just trying to lighten the load."

"Those were not the orders," growled Lurtz.

"And what were the orders?"

Lurtz' lip curled back to reveal teeth that looked almost serrated. "The Master said to look for the halflings. 'e said there'll likely be more than one, but there's one in particular He wants. This rat, he has something the Master wants for the war, so we bring back all the halflings, alive and unspoiled."

"Is that what he said?" A slow grin spread over Snaga's face, and Nelly swallowed. "That 'he' has something for the war?"

"Yes."

"But we haven't caught ourselves a he. That's a she – a halfling bitch if ever there was one."

Lurtz looked at Nelly, and his eyes narrowed. "I don't know… The Master said to bring all the halflings."

"Well I wasn't going to kill her," said Snaga, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Just have a little fun."

The others were listening now, and Nelly could feel anticipation building in the air. It crept like a spider down her spine, and bit fear straight into her heart.

Lurtz pursed his lips, and then strode over to stand over Nelly. She could not help but cringe back, and he grinned. "Are we sure it's a she?"

"Yes, look-"

"No," said Lurtz, his grin growing. "Are we sure?"

Snaga's eyes lit up, and he gave a hacking laugh. "No."

"Then we'd best check, shouldn't we? Before we go any further."

Nelly's toes curled up, and panic flickered through her body fast as a forest fire. And then Lurtz came crashing down on top of her and she cried out, raising her hands above her head. The uruk sat on her pelvis, his weight crushing down onto her, and his knees were on either side of her legs. In almost the same moment, Snaga leapt forward and grabbed Nelly's arms, pulling them back over head and pinning them to the ground. Desperate, she tried to regain control over her breath, but it came quick and fast and fearful, and the orcs laughed.

"Look," they crooned, and the hair on the back of Nelly's neck stood on end. "She thinks she's so brave…"

Lurtz took out a knife, and Nori's words vanished from Nelly's mind. The blade was as long as her arm, and jagged all the way up, and there was dried blood all over the handle. With a growl, Nelly kicked and scrambled her feet, but there was nothing she should do, no target she could hit or weapon she could grab with her toes, not with the weight of Lurtz crushing down on her. No matter how she pulled and thrashed her arms, Snaga held them still, his nails biting deep into her skin and his laugh grating at her soul.

"Wiggle, little mouse," said Lurtz, ripping his knife through the front of her tunic. Imprisoning whimpers behind gritted teeth, Nelly pulled on her arms with all her might, but even when her skin began to tear, Snaga's grip held.

"Go on!" the goblin jeered, digging his nails deeper. "Let the blood flow. You're not going anywhere."

Lurtz ripped off her tunic and leant back, putting on an awful voice of mock concern. "Well boys, it looks like we still can't tell."

"Get off!" Nelly shouted, loud and strong as she could. It did nothing. She knew it would do nothing, but what else could she do? "Get off me!"

Lurtz pressed the knife onto her collar, just above the lacing of the bodice Lady Galadriel had given her. Fear was squeezing the air from her lungs, gripping her tighter than it ever had before, but the orcs just laughed.

And Lurtz tugged on the knife.

The leather lacing held firm.

The uruk frowned, pressing a hand down on Nelly's chest to hold the laces taut, and then he dragged down again, but still it held. He snarled, and barked in Black Speech, and two large uruk-hai came from the shadows and grabbed each side of the bodice, pulling until the laces were lying flat and tight against Nelly's chest. Then, Lurtz slid the knife beneath them, and began to saw upwards. The bottom of the blade tore through her undershirt and caught against Nelly's skin again and again, ripping a raw red line into her sternum, and she could not help but cry out.

And still, the elven leather held.

Finally, Lurtz threw his knife down with a curse, and signalled the others to move back. Snaga paused, but after a growl from the bigger uruk he released Nelly's arms.

"Take it off," Lurtz snarled, spit flying onto Nelly's face. "Take if off, or I'll change my mind about Snaga having your fingers."

Disbelief and terror warred in Nelly's hands, the first numbing her fingers even as the latter made them shake. She knew what it was that had made Nori so green, what horrors orcs wrought upon women, but she had never thought she would be here. She had never thought it would happen to her.

"Now!" roared Lurtz, and Nelly grappled with the knot of the bodice. Her finger fumbled, and slid over the intricate knot, unable to get a decent grip. She stopped, and took a deep breath.

Untied it.

Lurtz grunted and Snaga took her arms again. Nelly's lips began to tremble as Lurtz tore open the bodice, leaving only her tattered undershirt between her skin and the world. Between her skin and the orcs.

"Looks like we have a girl after all," crowed Lurtz, and the orcs laughed. "Untie her hands and get that cursed thing off. It's going to the Master. When you're done, rebind her hands, tighter. And if the sun's still showing, you can have a little fun – but no maiming and no killing. I want her fully functional, for whatever the Master wants. Snaga, you and your boys get first turn."

There was a chorus of protests from the other orcs, but Lurtz roared over them once more, and they fell into a grumbling quiet. Shrieking with glee, Snaga and three other goblins surged forward, and Nelly winced as they sawed through the ropes binding her hands. Two of them grabbed an arm each, holding her tightly as Snaga pulled off her bodice and threw it to Lurtz.

The goblins on her arms began to pull, hard, playing a tug of war with her body until Nelly could not help but yelp, her shoulders burning. Another dug its claws into her back and dragged them down, wrenching another shout from her. And Snaga gave a howl, a sickening sound of pure elation, and clicked his fingers. Once again, Nelly's wrists were crushed together, and again a cord was wrapped around them so tight that it burnt. Snaga pushed her roughly to the ground, and her head hit the stone with a force that sent stars before her eyes. And one goblin grabbed her arms and held them above her head, and each of the others held her legs down.

And then Snaga sat astride her. And began to tug her trousers down.

And Nelly screamed.

And the world seemed to stop.

And all that existed was her scream, and the goblin above her, and what he was about to do.

And all that existed was hell, hurtling towards her.

And the goblin's blood spraying over her face.

And his screeches ripping into the night.

Nelly gasped as Snaga fell on top of her, his eyes wide open and unseeing, and his skull bashed in. His hand was still caught in his own belt. The orcs were shouting, roaring and shrieking, and the clawed hands around Nelly's limbs released. Rocks, the size of crab apples, were soaring into the cave, crashing into the goblins and orcs with enough for to break their bones.

The uruk-hai surged outside, all save Lurtz, who wrapped his arm around Nelly's neck and hoisted her up from the ground. He shifted his grip so that she could breathe, holding her instead around the chest, and Nelly shifted her legs and hips, trying to pull her trousers back up without the use of her hands. Her eyes stung, and a small gasp of a sob escaped her, and she could not do it. She was stuck in the arms of an uruk with only her underwear, and with her trousers around her knees.

It really can't get much worse, she thought, but even as she did there was a triumphant hoot from the orcs, and a cry that she knew. A cry she knew very, very well.

No…

And the goblins returned, dragging a new prisoner with them, a prisoner with a rock still clenched in his hands. Nelly's eyes widened.

Bróin.

He looked half-dead – his eyes were both shadowed by dark bruises, and there was blood and bruises over every part of him she could see, and despite the fury in his eyes, terror shone there too.

What did you do, Bróin?

"Well," said Lurtz, sounding rather surprised, "he lives. We left you for dead two days ago, boy. How did you catch us – did you have help?"

Bróin said nothing, but his eyes locked on Nelly's.

They punched him in the stomach and he choked. Nelly winced.

"I asked you a question," snarled Lurtz, pressing his knife against the cuts he had already made to Nelly's sternum. "Answer me, or I'll rip her open. Don't think I'm bluffing – I can keep her alive for the Master."

"Ran," Bróin croaked, and his voice sounded as though he had swallowed bucket of sand. "I ran."

"Here!" one of Snaga's goblins cried, tugging a flask from Bróin's belt. "He stole our grog!"

Lurtz laughed, low and dangerous. "Did you, little dwarf? Hah! No wonder you could run. The goblins of the mines have their energy draughts, and the scum of Mordor have their balms, but only we of the White Hand have the Fire Draught. Our Master is wise beyond all your lords, and skilled beyond your pathetic grey wizard ever was. Slain in the mountain – bah! Never would you see Saruman fall in such a way. He blended all the draughts of health and healing known to orc, and the Fire Draught is what let this dwarfling run. Well, you wanted some sport, boys. Leave the bitch, for now. Play with the little dog."

No, Nelly thought, desperately, but she knew that if she screamed they would know it hurt her, they would hurt Bróin more, but already they were kicking and punching and one took a knife and drew it back –

"No!" she screamed, her voice breaking free of her will. "No, leave him alone, please, please!"

It was happening all over again, but this time they would not leave it. She knew they would not leave him, they would kill him, and they would make her watch. Bróin was not a halfling.

She grabbed Lurtz's arm, her bound arms burning with the effort, and clawed at him. "Please, stop it, please, please, I'll do what you want, I'll do whatever you want, please, please!"

Lurtz laughed. "You have nothing to give, little mouse," he crooned. "Anything you have, we'll take from you. Anything we want from you, you will do. You will break. And he does have something to give. My men've had nothing but stale bread for days. They're hungry for some fresh meat. Oh, don't cry, mouse. You can have some too."

Bróin was thrown to the ground and the orcs fell down upon him, and one of the uruk-hai grabbed his hair and pulled his neck back, pressing his knife against Bróin's throat.

"Bróin!"

And the uruk stopped. And stared.

"What?" barked Lurtz. "What is it?"

"This," the uruk grabbed one of Bróin's braids, sawing it off in a heartbeat, and tossing it to Lurtz. "Ain't that the symbol the Master sent to the halfling land?"

Panting, Nelly craned to see what Lurtz had caught in his other hand, and saw that it was the largest bead in Bróin's hair. The bead that deemed him the son of a lord, and named him son of Bombur.

"It is," growled Lurtz, and an awful smile spread across his face. "Well, who'll be the Master's favourite when we fulfil two missions?"

A great, clamouring roar shattered the air, and Nelly felt her tears escape her as she looked desperately at Bróin. A single drop of blood was trailing down from the knife to his collar bone.

Was she going to watch him die?

Because if she did, Nelly would do everything in her power to ensure that the orcs brought back no living prisoner.

"Dwarf," barked Lurtz. "Who is your father? Name, and title."

In the silence of the seconds that followed, Nelly begged Bróin with all the thought she had. Just answer, just answer, don't let them hurt you, please, Bro, please…

"Bombur," Bróin croaked. "Lord Bombur of Erebor."

"Would you look at that? A lordling and a halfling bitch in one day? Give him the Fire Draught again," ordered Lurtz. "Heal up his head, and anything else you might've broken. We'll get a good sum for the High Lord's son, and a better one if he's brought in alive. So keep him alive. But make him run some more. He's good at running, and the sun's sinking."

Nelly watched with equal horror and relief as the goblins poured a thick, dark liquid down Bróin's throat, and some of the tension eased from his limbs. And the bleeding from his neck faded away like a nightmare in sunshine. His eyes met hers, and they were alert, and afraid, and somehow defiant and strong.

They bound him even tighter than they had bound her, if the stark skin around his wrists was any indication, and when they moved out, Bróin was driven along with them.

It was days before she saw him again. When the pack moved, they were separated by dozens of foul creatures, and even when Nelly was passed to a fresh carrier like a sack of flour, she was kept away from Bróin. The orc pack ran like some hideous machine, charging through day and night, through woods and plains – so many plains – until they came to the borders of a great, looming forest. It looked straight out of a dwarven fairy-tale – stories far grimmer than their hobbit counterparts. It was only when the third day had passed, and the fourth night broken, that the pack halted for more than a half hour.

"There's trouble behind," Lurtz said as he threw Nelly to the ground. "Uglúk's having trouble with the whiteskins, I don't doubt. Fool. We should be out of it here, but we'll camp in the wood just to be sure. Make no fires – the horsemen have eyes like eagles."

Another goblin grabbed Nelly by the scruff of the neck, and dragged her into the woods, into the centre of the forming campsite. He tied her ankles together, and then secured the ropes from both her ankles and her hands to a nearby tree, before stalking towards the outside again.

And, in the first sign of a blessing in days, Bróin was dropped down beside her. The orc who had dragged him over tied Bróin's ankles, too, and bound him hand and foot to a tree opposite Nelly's. His face was less than a foot from hers, but they could not touch.

"Are you alright?" Nelly murmured, staring at the odd pattern of bruises on her friend's face – a patchwork of new and old marks.

"Mm," he said, terror in his eyes. "Are you? Nelly, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she insisted, cursing inside as her eyes began to sting. "I'm not the one who they're using for a punching bag. What were you thinking, Bróin?"

He frowned slightly, and she noticed that one of his eyes was bloodshot. Very, very bloodshot. "What d'you mean?"

"You know," she hissed. "In the cave, you shouldn't have done that, you nearly died!"

Bróin's frown deepened, and he shook his head slightly. "No, I had to. I had to, Nelly, they were going, they were going to – I had to."

"No, you didn't," she whispered, furious both at Bróin, and at the tears that were escaping down onto her cheeks. "You, you could have bided your time, come up with a plan-"

"I was," he protested, tears seeping down to join his blood in the dirt. "But then they were going… I couldn't, I couldn't let them do that to you. Not that, Nelly, not to you, I couldn't let that happen, not that…"

Nelly stifled a sob. "Bróin, they nearly killed you. I nearly watched you die – I know what they were going to do, I know, but do you think I would rather you died?"

"Do you think I'd rather live?" he replied hoarsely. He was shaking, badly. "Than watch that? Or hide while it happened? Than know that I didn't stop it?"

Nelly closed her eyes. She was not sure why. Her tears were escaping anyway, and she knew that she should be keeping watch of her surroundings. She needed to be keeping watch over Bróin.

"Would you do differently," he murmured, "if it was me?"

She shook her head slightly, opening her eyes. "No."

For a moment, Bróin paused, sucking on his bottom lip the way he always did when hesitating to speak. Except his bottom lip was not usually split down the middle. "Nell… you forgive me?"

"Don't be stupid," she whispered. "There's nothing to forgive. I love you, Bróin, I love you so much."

He smiled sadly. "I love you, too. I'm scared."

"Me too." She tugged against the ropes, stretching with all her might to try and touch her forehead to his, but even when he stretched too, they were left inches apart. "We're in a right mess."

Bróin gave a watery laugh. "Aye, I reckon so. Nell, d'you think they've found the Shire?"

She swallowed, and glanced away. It had been haunting her for the last few days, too, the detail that had saved Bróin's life. The bead of a lord's child. The bead that the orcs recognised.

"They've gone after Bodin," Bróin said, his voice cracking, "and the twins. Nelly, they're so little."

"I know," she breathed, meeting his eyes, "but they're not alone, and they're not defenceless. They'll be alright, Bro."

"I always wondered how grownups could make those promises," he said. "It's going to be alright. It isn't, and you know it isn't, but you've gotta say something."

Nelly said nothing, and began moving slowly, testing out her bonds. They were so secure dwarves may have welded them onto her skin.

"Nell?"

"Mm?"

"Can… can you say it again? Just once."

Nelly met Bróin's eyes, and saw her own tears in his. She nodded a little. "It's going to be alright, Bróin. You're going to be fine. We're going to be alright."

Bróin smiled a little, and closed his eyes. "Thank you."

A few moments later, he was asleep. Nelly watched him breathing carefully, but she let him sleep. The orcs were running him into the ground. Why she was not running, she did not know. Perhaps they did not think her capable, or were taking more care of her because she was the one they were ordered to take. But really, she did not care. All she cared about was that Bróin was there, and he was breathing.

And, for now, he was.

I hope that you enjoyed that chapter – it was very difficult to write, I have to say. Possibly one of the darkest chapters I've ever had to write, in some ways. I hope that the next one will be a wee bit lighter, though we're obviously not in a particularly happy part of the tale.

I can promise, though that there will be nothing more explicit than this scene in regards to sexual assault in this story. It's not something that I've put in gratuitously, I promise. It is plot related, and unfortunately, there are reasons that dwarven women dress like men on the road, so to speak.

If you have any concerns, either in the story or in real life, please don't hesitate to leave a review or PM me. I don't give spoilers as a rule, but if there's something you're very worried about I don't mind letting you know.

Anyway, I hope that you enjoyed that despite its heavy angst, and I hope to see you next week :D