Wearing the clean elven tunic made her feel alive. Why it was so smooth and soft against her skin, she could not help the feeling of warmth that rose in her chest as she enjoyed the luxury of clean clothes. Her wet veil as clinging to her face and it made it a little difficult for her to breathe but the winds would soon dry it. As she made her way back, she saw the Commander look at her with an inexplicable look. Was it amusement or embarrassment for a stranger? Had she forgotten to cover herself somewhere? Qucikly, the prisoner looked at herself. Nope, she was covered all over except for ….her hands, whatever part was not covered by the tunic, and …her hair.
This time, tears rose in her eyes. Okay, so the commander had seen her hair and her hands. Azog had just shaved it recently and though her hair kept growing quickly, it hung just at her ears. The commander, being the commander, would have known what had happened to her. It explained the look on his face, neither amusement nor embarrassment. Far worse. It was pity.
Keeping her eyes to the ground, she went back to her original spot. The cloak the commander had given her the previous night was still there. She tore a part of it from the bottom and made a simple scarf out of it, tying it around her head. Still not daring to look up, she sat against the rocks, just enjoying the feeling of being clean and breathing in fresh air. She was careful not to move for her body was still hurting terribly and any wrong turn of her body sent her into spasms of pain.
She felt the commander look at her again and turned to him. He was signalling to the rock beside her and she turned and saw that food had been laid out for her again. Warm tea of chamomile and another small slice of bread. It did not make her feel better for she knew the source of his kindness lay in his pity for her. It was what she had been reduced to, an object of ridicule for the mean-spirited and that of charity for the kind-hearted.
For a moment, she felt defiant and wondered if she should refuse the food. Reality then sunk in and she reached for the bread and the drink, more gratefully. She ought to thank the Valar for the life she was enjoying now, not be so petty about it. She ate her food in silence, listening to the butterfly as it updated her on news that it had received from its friends. There was a fierce battle near the Lonely Mountains. The Elven Prince and Tauriel were there as were the dwarves. The prisoner felt as if someone had dropped a stone in her stomach as she heard that Azog was there as well.
Just then she heard the elven horn and saw the soldiers getting ready for battle. The news had reached them as well. As they moved off in precision, the commander came near her. He saw the hesitation in his eyes and realised that he was debating with himself, before coming to a decision. Using elven rope, he tied her hands and set her upon his horse. She betrayed no emotion. It would have been easier for the commander to just chain her to the rock and leave her there. Except, far as the elves were concerned, she would be unable to defend herself should there be danger. They could neither trust her nor abandon her. And so, off they rode to battle again, commander and prisoner.
As they neared the battle, the commander left her near some rocks and moved off. Again, the prisoner had seen his struggle between his kindness and his distrust. He had made sure that she would not be discovered. And could at least escape, if she were to be in danger. But, he had not dared unbound her hands, lest she turned against them. It would have been easiest for him to do as Tauriel had said, kill her off. Oh, the kindness of the elves. It ought not to be their undoing.
Settling herself behind the rocks, she summoned the butterfly again and asked him to bring forth some friends as well. She needed information from as many areas of the battle as possible. One by one, she heard the news. Elves were falling, the fighting was fierce, the dwarves were dead. And then, she heard that there was a stand-off. The elves against the orcs and Azog. Azog, he was there? The prisoner felt the shudder go through her. She did not want to see him. Ever again. She crawled further behind the rocks and stayed trembling until a butterfly came. He had taken the Prince hostage and was demanding the return of the prisoner. So, Azog had realised that she had escaped and wanted her back. Why?
Foolish question. Azog enjoyed the pain he could inflict upon her. It gave him a sense of power. Oh, this seemed to be a replay of the situation that they had just escaped from a day ago. She could not believe that the Prince had led them to this. Surely the King would offer himself up for his son's safety. Where was the brainless elleth? The butterfly replied her that she was mourning over a dwarf away from the rest. "Great, just great," thought the prisoner. It was not that she was mocking the elleth's pain or loss for she knew such pain too but this was really her own doing and her King and fellow elves were in trouble. Would she not aid them?
She did not stall further and made her way quickly to where the elves and Azog were. As she stumbled there, Azog recognised her immediately, despite her veil and new tunic. He gave her a smile, one that sent chills down her gut. He had three elves in his hold, the Prince and two others. They must have been the Prince's guards, dooming themselves with the Prince. The prisoner did not know what to do. It appeared that neither did the elves. All stood frozen before the Orcs. Azog looked at her and slowly drew his scimitar to the Prince. The prisoner looked at the commander and the King. Neither seemed to be able to make a decision. Both were too noble to hand her over to a captor like Azog but it was the Prince at stake. The prisoner trembled as she thought of the consequences. She had escaped hell, she would go back to one that would be worse. Azog did not take defeat easily. Nor Sauron. She had dared to escape from them.
"I will come," she whispered, dropping to her knees in front of Azog. The Elven King and the Commander appeared surprised. They watched Azog carefully. He did not release the Prince, instead handing him over to the other Orcs. Going over to the prisoner, he looked at her, tracing his finger up her bound hands and down her legs. She kept still, refusing to writhe in the pain as blood flowed out. This time, the elves looked shocked looking to their Commander and their King for direction. Azog looked at the tiny dagger in his palms, stained with her blood and gave her another sadistic smile, as he turned away from her. She stared at him, dumbfounded for a minute and then realised what he was about to do. He was never one to stand by his word. He would not spare the prince. The prisoner stared as her blood fell unto the ground. She had barely any energy to draw on, but she had to try.
Grains of Earth that bears us all
Silent witness to the innocents that fall
Upon my blood that flows
Is it only evil that upon you grows?
All heard the rumble and waited cautiously, even Azog. Without warning, the earth split open under him, as the rocks tumbled down crushing his Orcs in the way. Before Azog could react, the Prince himself had thrown his captor to the ground, jumping nimbly between the cracked lines upon the earth. The prisoner watched in silence as the elves battled Azog and the other Orcs. It was nearly over and all the orcs had died, when the prisoner screamed out the prince's name, throwing herself in front of him.
Before his own death, Azog had brought his scimitar down on the Prince's arm. He would have brought it on his back as well, had the prisoner not tumbled over them, bearing the brunt of the weapon upon her thighs. The prince had hardly any time to react, stabbing his dagger down Azog's head, ending at least one evil reign upon Middle Earth.