Her back was stiff. Standing hastily, she went and got her sword. There was a crash. The door was barreled down by marching Uruks. Her mouth opened in a silent scream. Here they were again. Instinctively, she slashed at the first beast. "Worker," one hissed as he tried to grab her. Bralyan knew what they wanted. They wanted her as a slave, but why? She didn't know. Bralyan did not wish to find out. She ran, but not away from the beasts. The hobbit ran towards them in fear. Her eyes she kept tightly closed as she fought. Bralyan could not face them. She was suddenly picked up and thrown hard against of the beasts shoulders. She wept and her mouth opened in fear. The woman could not scream or let Pippin know she was in trouble. Bralyan felt the fiends run. Never before had she been so high up or gone so fast. She did not know what to do. What would happen to her?
Meanwhile, Pippin was fighting for his life. He didn't know how the orcs had come into his home, but he was determined to kick them out! However, that was easier said than done. In fact, Pippin may be lucky if he even makes it out of here alive! Peregrin slashed his blade through one of the orcs' throat and pivoted to stab it through another's gut. But no matter how many he slay, for every orc that goes down, three seemed to take its place. Pippin tried to keep an eye at Bralyan, even protecting the hobbit lass, but he soon got too busy fighting for his own dear life against the filthy evil creatures. Pippin's heart thudded in his chest. There were too many orcs to even count! Why are they even here? Why!
Pippin let out a grunt of pain when one of the orc blades slashed through his upper left arm. The wound wasn't deep, but it stung like hell! He jammed his blade through the heart of the orc responsible. When he tried to yank his blade back out, it was stuck. Fear shot through the little hobbit. Oh no. Just my luck. Pippin felt another orc coming up behind him, so he tried again with all his might to yank his blade out. This time, he succeeded. In one swift move, he pulled it out, pivoted on his heels and cut off the orc's hands. Though unfortunately, the momentum carried him further than his intended destination, and unbalanced, Pippin crashed to the floor. His hand hit the surface hard and his sword fell out of his hand. The orcs saw this and grinned evilly. One of them raised his scimitar and swung.
Luckily for Pippin, he recovered enough of his impact with the hard floor and reached for his sword. He managed to grab the blade in time and swung it up to block the orc's filthy weapon. The force behind that swing though, he could not block and pain shot up his already injured left arm. The orc, however, was not phased by this and thrust the other end of his weapon at the poor hobbit's head. The impact knocked Pippin right into oblivion and his last thoughts were, I think I just dislocated my shoulder.
The leader of the Uruks stopped at the door of the Thains home. "Stop," he growled to the uruk who was bent over the unconscious hobbit. Slowly, the beast stood and snarled at the leader. "We don't want him dead," the captain Uruk said, "He is the leader of his people." With those words, the other Uruks grunted in agreement. As they left, one of the uruks kicked Pippin, but not very hard. It was just to wake him up. The uruk knew it was not proper to leave the leader of his people unconscious. Laughing evilly, they left leaving the door hanging on one hinge. They marched on for many hours, every once in awhile they stopped and raided different hobbit homes and took with them hobbits. Bralyan wept silently. Tears trickled down her freckled face. By dawn they were long away from Peregrins home and nearer to Mordor. They carried with them the many hobbits over their shoulders. Each one wore looks of terror. They knew that their fate was bad. They were destined to be slaves until they were dead. No one thought to question why they were being enslaved. The fear was too great to think of anything.
The orc carrying Bralyan dropped her hard on the ground and the same with the rest of the hobbits. She frowned at the uruks. "Time to work, maggoty princess," he hissed and handed her a very heavy pot. "Get water," he snapped at her. When she did not move, the uruk took out his whip and hit her hard on the back. Gasping silently, Bralyan stumbled forward and went to find water. Tears continued to trickle down her face. Looking around her, the other hobbits were either tied up or put to work.
Back at Pippin's house, the hobbit was in a nasty situation. When the Uruk has kicked him, Pippin indeed woke up a little, though his severe concussion caused by his head wound had sent him straight back into unconsciousness again. The next time he woke up, midnight had already come and gone and when he raised his head a little to look out of the window - the movement causing him nausea - it was pitch black. Taking a moment to remember what had happened, Pippin tried to sit up. When he nearly succeeded in getting into a semi-sitting position, the events came crashing back at the hobbit and Pippin fell right back down on the floor again. Bralyan! Pippin remembered seeing her fighting the orcs before he had lost sight of her. Hoping she might still be in the house, he hesitantly called out. "Bralyan?"
Hearing no response but the echo of his own voice, he tried again. "Bralyan!" Still there was nothing. Fear gripped his heart and this time he yelled loudly, "BRALYAN! If you can hear me, please answer! Knock on the floor or something like that! Just, DO something!"
Again, he was met with nothing but silence. Suddenly, an image floated towards the surface in Pippin's head. He remembered vaguely seeing the poor hobbit lass being carried away by an orc. It was just a glimpse in the hobbit's peripheral vision, so it had escaped his noticed until now. The truth came down on Pippin hard. They had taken Bralyan. The orcs had stormed his house and taken his... guest. Oh Valar.
Meanwhile, at the band of orcs, Uruks and prisoners hobbits, things were pretty quiet. Well, as quiet as the situation can be. At least there were no major rows between the vile creatures and no life threatening situations. The hobbits were given a break to rest and all of them were thankful for that small miracle. A female hobbit with curly dark brown hair sat down with a defeated sigh. How did she manage to land herself in this kind of situation? She was a teacher and an occasional writer and painter. This hobbit lass lived for peace - well, as much peace as a bunch of hobbits provided -, children - they are so enthusiastic around her- and food - oh how she missed the food in the shire right now.
She shook her dark curls out of her face. Her hair was usually tied in a braid and held together with a green hair pin and loose strands were fastened with some other green hair clips. But that was usually. Today she only had her hair pin to hold her hair together, because the other things were still home, in her drawer. With the heat and exhaustion, loose strands kept falling into her face and the sweat made them stick to her face. Plus, with the fact that her hands were bound, she wasn't able to redo her braid in a more comfortable fashion. All in all, it was an uncomfortable situation.
This dark haired hobbit raised her head to look around her. There was another hobbit girl, sitting not far away from herself. Wanting the company, she headed towards the other girl. "Hello. Mind if I sat down?" she asked politely before promptly falling down onto the dead grass next to red golden haired hobbit. She smiled softly and turned towards the silent hobbit. "I am Myrtle Delving. What is your name?" she inquired curiously.
Bralyan sagged as she lay there. The uruks had told her to stop. They had mentioned that they needed them all to be alive so they could work. She shuddered when the golden-red haired hobbit thought about it. She was going to be a slave and so were all of the other hobbits here. A shadow of sadness crossed her freckled face. When a woman spoke, driving Bralyan from her dreary thoughts, she glanced up at her with weary and pain filled eyes. Her back ached from work and being whipped and she could feel the blood drip down her back, mix with sweat and dry – it wasn't very pleasant.
Turning her head, she looked away and into the fire that the Uruks were gathering around. When Bralyan heard the woman speak again, she just pressed her lips together and shook her head. Then, taking a toe, she wrote shakily, "Bralyan Pickthorn. Mute…" She looked over at the woman and nodded to the ground where she had written her name with her toe.
Myrtle read the message and she gave Bralyan a sympathetic look. "Oh you poor lass." Myrtle looked around her, noting a particularly ugly orc standing near them and looking at her. She gulped and pulled an innocent face, before turning back towards Bralyan. "So, where were you when you got caught?" She asked kindly, while absently rubbing her left arm, which she'd hurt when she'd tried to fight off the stinky creatures.
Bralyan shrugged. "Don't pity me," she scrawled with her toe. The golden-red haired hobbit looked over at the orc and shuddered. He had been the one whom had whipped her. Bralyan looked over at Myrtle. There was sadness in her eyes as she thought of Pippin. "With the Master of Tuckborough, Peregrin Took. I do hope he is all right," she wrote. A tear trickled down her face, even though she tried to stop them. Is he wondering of me, she thought as Bralyan looked off into the distance.
Meanwhile, back at Tuckborough, a pony could be seen galloping over the lands. If one looked closely, they would see a figure on top of it. Peregrin was riding through his homelands in panic. Everywhere he went, he only saw destruction. The once beautiful landscape seemed to be wilting under the strong black presence that still lingered over Tuckborough. No soul was present - at least, none with living signs. Pippin shuddered. Quickly, he pulled his pony into a faster run, heading for the route where the presence of the orcs where the strongest and where the most footprints were Pippin was determined to save Bralyan and everyone else if he could.
Bralyan closed her eyes wearily. She thought of Peregrin. A small sob came from her lips. She hoped that he would find the notebook she had dropped as a hint to which way she had been taken. She hoped and somehow knew that he was looking for her. Bralyan just hoped that he would come in time.