Despite lacking the knowledge of how long it had been since he and his family had been forced to dwell in a city that, apart from a few clever Dwarven tricks, never saw the light of day, Gavin Stormcloack had nevertheless developed a rather macabre way of accurately judging a day's worth of time.

In the mornings, he was woken by either multiple lashes to his already stripped back or with the foul-smelling concoction Orcs called breakfast being forced down his throat.

Afterwards, he would be left to dangle by his chains for around two hours, during which time he would hear the cruel laughter of these creatures, and the cries of anguish from his fellow prisoners as they underwent the same torture.

Then this brief respite would be ended by the period in which the Orcs called 'the selection'.

For those strong enough to still stand on their two feet, they were allowed the dubious pleasure of being released from their cells to march further down into the darkness in order to make use of the less damaged mineshafts. Many souls had already lost their lives either through accidents, overwork or by summoning whatever remained of their courage to cast themselves into the void.

His captors especially enjoyed witnessing this loss of hope. Even if it meant that there would be one less slave for them to meet the quotas that had been set by the Pale Orc.

For those who were too feeble to perform these tasks, their respite was all too brief as the frailest of them, or those who still had a spark of defiance about them were deemed to be only suitable for feeding the most valued members of the army that infested Moria.

And then there were those who were selected for neither of these things.

Some were chosen to accompany the Orcs into regions of the abandoned Dwarven city that few, be they Man, Elf, or Orc, ever returned from.

His wife had been one of the fortunate few that had returned from the depths. But considering the experience broke her mind, the only thing he could discover from her before her decision to end her life was that the lower levels were home to, as she put it, a shadow that was darker than the unlit halls around them.

But the fate of these unfortunate sacrifices, for he could think of no other word, paled in comparison to what he, his children, and a select unfortunate few went through on a monthly basis.

He knew that it would soon be time for him to once again be subjected to magic of the blackest sort, but luckily for the moment it appeared that the Orcs had more pressing concerns on their minds.

He of course had managed to learn a few phrases of their disgusting language, and that had taken some time since he was normally in too much pain to concentrate on anything but what was happening to his body, but he knew that the cause for this eager and rather rapid display of preparing for war had something to do with 'the last of the seven', and 'Line of Durin'.

The only value this had was that it would mean a temporary respite from the pain that even now lightly throbbed throughout his body and mind.

But thanks to the wretchedness of his circumstances, he would take anything.

…..

Though pain wasn't an unfamiliar companion to one such as he, for a member of his race did not reach the heights of power without being exposed to the sort of violence that separate the weak from the strong, it had nevertheless been some time since he had to endure pain of this nature instead of meting it out on others.

Of course since it was only an arm, he still possessed the agility that could put any elven filth to shame.

And since his kind had been bred to endure hardships that would shock the stubbornest of rock burrowers, he still possessed the strength to kill those foolish enough to challenge him. Especially since his new 'limb' ensured that he always had a weapon at hand.

But the loss of his arm, to the pathetic spawn of his now raving captive no less, was something that served to increase the already volatile temper of the giant Gundabad Orc.

Especially since his master had made his displeasure known when news reached him of his latest defeat.

It mattered little that the last, and greatest of the Seven had been reclaimed.

Nor was the Dark One satisfied with the news that the battle before the Gates of Moria, along with the numerous skirmishes that had taken place before the battle, had resulted in the deaths of nearly half of the entire Dwarven Population of Middle Earth. Yes it was true that the Orcs had suffered grievous losses as well, but his people's ability to grow in number greatly surpassed that of even the most lust driven Men, let alone a people whose breeders enjoyed the right to say no despite being driven closer to extinction.

What mattered was the fact that the Line of Durin continued to endure, despite the loss of their ancestral lands and the loss of much of their people. And the fact that the Dark One had lost enough of his servants to make his position less secure than he wished it.

For though his power was growing, it was still insufficient to garner the active support of either the Dragon, or the other dark god that stalked the darkest reaches of Moria.

And since they were needed to make up for the fact that his forces were still a shadow of what they had been before the loss of his greatest weapon, the Dark One had been less than pleased when he discovered that his plans had only partially been completed.

The only thing that had saved Azog from death had been the fact that a certain project of the Dark Lord's appeared to be going well.

He of course did not understand what was being done to the Men that they had captured, for he was a creature that preferred to fight with cold iron rather than sorcery, but so long as he retained his command, he didn't care.

Or at least he would have if the order hadn't come to abandon the more accessible levels of the abandoned Dwarven kingdom.

Even if their numbers had been greatly reduced by the battle at the Eastern Gate, they still had more than enough strength to prevent Moria from being reclaimed by any unfriendly power. Even if a good portion of his remaining troops had seen fit to abandon the Misty Mountains for the lands of the horse riders.

But since he could not refuse that order, or the one requiring him to travel to Gundabad to ensure that the remaining northern Orcs did nothing to call attention to themselves while they rebuilt, Azog had swiftly followed his master's plan before leaving the much-reduced garrison in the hands of one of his few remaining commanders.

He honestly didn't expect much to go wrong in his absence, for in the months following the battle, the only living thing to approach the gates had been the crows, and other corpse eaters who had been lured by the lingering stench of blood.

But since his spawn was still recovering from the consequences of his act of rebellion, the white skinned Orc nevertheless felt less than fully confident in this decision to temporary forsake his underground kingdom.

For even if the enemies of the Dark One were too afraid to try and reclaim Moria with their pitiful armies, that didn't mean that would try other forms of intrusion.

Something that would frighteningly become clear upon his return.

…..

Though it had been many years since he had passed the doors of Khazad-Dum, back in the days when the Dwarven city still rang with the sound of the labors of Aule's favored children, Gandalf nevertheless still felt a sense of familiarity as he journeyed through the abandoned city.

For while the years and Orcs had done much to rob the city of it's previous grandeur, time and the wretched creatures that now populated Moria had been insufficient to change the basic layout of the city.

Which was all well and good for him since time was of the essence.

It had been three months since word had reached him of the heavily bought victory of the Dwarves.

And while he greatly lamented the continued misfortune of the House of Durin, especially since this recent tragedy had been caused by Thror's continued inability to fight the sickness that had inevitably resulted in the loss of the loss of Erebor, his errand into the mines was due to his duty towards all of Middle Earth, not just the children of Aule.

For he suspected that perhaps the fate of the last King Under the Mountain, and his son, had more to do with the desire to gain a greater prize than just the weakening of Dwarven arms.

A feeling that only grew when he learned that there had been no trace of Thrain after the battle.

Most of his friends and allies had tried to dissuade him from his quest to enter the Mines, Saruman being chief among them, but since his current mission was influenced by the desire to find out what had happened to the greatest of the Seven, they had accepted his determination with scant resistance.

But so far his mission was proving to be less than fruitful.

For it appeared that with the grievous losses they had suffered before the DIMRILL GATE, the Orcs of Moria had chosen to vacate the halls of Durin for greener pastures.

The chief of his order had already informed him that scores of Orcs had taken advantage of Rohan's still weakened state to establish numerous mountain strong holds. Ensuring that it would take years for the recovering horse riders to once again establish peace in their realm.

This of course meant that there was a very strong chance that the last of Seven, and possibly it's bearer, were sequestered somewhere in the White Mountains. But until he was certain that Moria was not playing host to one of it's lost children, or in the instrument that contributed to it's downfall, Gandalf would continue to search for as long as was able.

And even if he didn't find what he was looking for, his discoveries, while serving as a cruel reminder of what the creatures of darkness were capable of, were perhaps as equally important as finding news about the son of Thror.

Great piles of weapons.

Row upon row of armor.

And perhaps most troubling of all, scores, if not hundreds of skeletons that belonged to the Second Born.

It was clear, if one knew what to look for, that Moria was being prepared to become more than just an outpost of evil.

And while the battle to reclaim the ancient city had resulted in heavy losses for the Dwarves, it had also greatly depleted the number of soldiers the forces of darkness could bring against the Free Peoples of Middle Earth.

However, the now useless preparations of the enemy to wage war were not only concerning signs he had discovered.

The passages that he knew led to the deepest levels of the underground city pulsed with an evil that surpassed any Orc.

And in the areas that bore more recent signs of habitation from the twisted creatures, it was apparent that the Orcs had treated their human captives as more than just a food source.

And yet while some of these chambers bore the stench of a type of evil that was in many ways worse than death, others bore faint traces of something worse.

The unmistakable taint of dark magic.

Frowning as he extended his senses in an attempt to better understand this new situation, Gandalf felt himself stride forward as he heard a sound that one of his nature could never ignore.

The sound of struggle.

….

ANNNND I think this is as good a place to end the first chapter.

I have been meaning to do a Tolkein story for a while now, so pleased that I could finally get around to it.

I am a huge fan of the books AND Peter Jackson's adaptations, even if he does stray a bit (i.e. LOTR trilogy) or a lot (Hobbit trilogy) from the source material. But in regards to the latter, the only truly original character/storyline was Tauriel. While the rest was either giving new storylines for minor/major characters (i.e Azog, Legolas), or changing the timelines of certain events (i.e. Gandalf's discovery of the Necromancer's true identity).

That being said, I will be following the Movie timeline/plot lines, while using other Tolkein material that was mentioned in the books. Because Middle Earth has soo many stories to draw on, it would be a shame not to include some of them.

Now was to THIS story, I confess that part of it was motivated by not only my desire to do a Hobbit story, but also due to some of the plot points of the non canonical story line of Shadow of Mordor. Not going to say which I am referring to, though will be dropping in some hints here and there…but rest assured, there will be no sexy wraith/spider lady like there was in the game lmao.

Anyways, that is it for now.

Next chapter will be the in the Shire.

Til then.