Warning: Violence does appear in this chapter. Please read only if you are comfortable. It occurs in the last paragraphs, but I do not see the violence getting any more graphic later on.
Disclaimer: I do not own or claim any of the characters or the world of The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien.
Hurried shoves and a harshly whispered word nudged Rodaìn out of her blank travels. "Lady Rodaìn. Rodaìn, please." Rodaìn jerked upwards and to view a bleary night. "Miss?"
Rodain turned her dazed vision to the questioning hobbit next to her. "Yes, Pippin? Where are we?" However, as she asked this, the memories of the orc attack clouded her already troubled mind.
"We are at the orc camp, we were captured. Are you injured, Lady Rodaìn?"
Rodaìn reached up to feel her head, but was dismayed as she discovered the rough binding that imprisoned her wrists. As her hands fell back down to her lap, she noticed the painful pressure on her stomach. I will have to wrap that later. My head is swirling too much right now. Swirling black lines. Changing and shifting. Never what they appear. Still dizzy, Rodaìn vaguely replied, "I shall live. How are you two?" she questioned Merry and Pippin.
"We are fine, just a bit worried is all. We do not know what they plan to do to us."
"I am sure we shall be able to escape in no time," Rodaìn reassured the hobbits with a faint upward motion on the corners of her chapped lips. She had been observing the camp and immediately noticed the overwhelming number of orcs setting up the site. She was disgusted by them, and began formulating a route of escape. However, she soon realized the impossible quality of such a task. Despite their uncivilized appearance, they kept close watch on their prisoners and campsite.
The orcs finished setting up their camp and the complaints of hungry bodies made themselves known. One of the orcs approached the hobbits, claiming they may make a good meal. Making herself known, Rodaìn defended them, "You shall not disturb them."
"Oh, the little lady knows how to talk. Let's fry her up instead," the orc snickered.
"They are not for eating," one of the orc leaders suddenly and brashly declared. With that, he pulled out his sword and chopped off the snickering orc's head. Rodaìn and the hobbits scooted backwards in fright as the orcs rushed forward to their cannibalistic meal. Limbs were picked and speared to sear over the fires.
The orcs sitting around the fires and waiting for their grotesque meal grew impatient. Rodaìn did not know what to do. She had never been a leader, never one to formulate complex plans. She did have an overly adequate amount of experience sneaking around though. Nearly silent footsteps had developed into an extremely useful habit.
Rodaìn scooted closer to the wide-eyed hobbits, always maintaining a constant watch on the orcs. "Merry. Pippin," she hissed, not wanting to be heard but needing to rouse the two hobbits from their wide-eyed stupor over the orc's gruesome actions.
"Y-yes, miss?" Merry shakily replied. Rodaìn noticed him and Pippin were doing their best to hold hands, despite the ropes that bound them so harshly. She was touched and warmed by such an action, never truly experiencing such a friendship with anyone.
"I think I have figured out a plan for us to escape," she told the halflings, doing her best to hold her voice steady. Merry and Pippin turned their heads to her expectantly, silently urging her to continue. "We can wait until their meal is ready, so they will all find themselves occupied with eating. Then, you two can slowly scoot towards that bush over there and cut your bindings loose," she stated, nodding her head towards a patch of thick foliage near the entrance of the forest and a discarded knife she had noticed early, half-hidden beneath the brambles and dirt of the forest floor. "After you help each other free, run swiftly into the woods. There is only room for the two of you behind that bush, and I shall have to go after you. Do not fear, I shall catch up to you not long after. If I do not, continue running until you find safety." Rodaìn finished telling her plan, but did not tell them the high likelihood that the orcs would quickly notice the disappearance of the hobbits. She did not tell them of the distraction she meant to cause, allowing Merry and Pippin further time to escape. She did not tell the hobbits that it would most likely end in her death.
"What a brilliant idea, Lady Rodaìn," Pippin said, a bit too loudly, drawing the unwanted attention of a three or four orcs.
"Shut up, Pip," Merry whispered and harshly nudged Pippin with his shoulder.
"Ouch, Merry, now what'd you do that for?" Pippin hissed back.
"Shhh, please be quiet," Rodaìn said quietly, discretely casting worried glances between the orcs and herself and the hobbits. "Now, they are just finishing preparing their meal. You must go now, this is when they will be busiest."
"Okay, see you soon, miss," Merry bid farewell to Rodaìn. "Come on, Pip," he urged his cousin along as they scooted closer to the designated bush.
Several seconds after Rodaìn witnessed the hobbits dash to the woods, she struggled to push herself up and gathered the remaining dregs of her courage. "Excuse me, but do you think I could have some food?" Rodaìn asked the orcs, trying her best to sound naïve and with no disgust in her voice.
The majority of the group turned towards Rodaìn, stunned at their captive's question. "Well, the girl is hungry, is she?" an orc with a distinctive limp on his left leg sneered with a smirk, as he struggled upright and began hobbling towards her stiff frame.
Rodaìn resisted the temptation to back away from the crude being of evil approaching her. Sucking in her breath and trying to ease her body, Rodaìn nodded her head.
"Well, maybe you'd like a bit to drink first, some red wine perhaps?" the orc snickered, beckoning her forward. Rodaìn hesitantly started forward, not sure of what trickery they would employ upon her.
She was suddenly shoved from behind by an orc guard and stumbled forward, landing on her stomach as her bound hands twisted beneath her and collied with her injured ribs. Gasping from the pain, she quickly bit down on her lip to barracade a yelp of pain from escaping. Venomous chuckles surrounded her now, as Rodaìn twisted her head to view the amused circle of orcs surrounding her. It's for the hobbits. It's for Merry and Pippin. They deserve life. I can take it. At least I was not duped and ensared into this pain.
The orcs parted in front of her to reveal the same limping, sneering orc that offered her a drink. Rodaìn held back a cringe as he entered with a trailing vine of glistening thorns, but managed to contain the tremors that begged to ravage her body.
"Now, we always like a bit of fun before our wine, don't we?" the orc questioned the group, holding his stare on Rodaìn's fallen form. He was answered be a series of grunts and anticipated rumbles. Rodaìn did her best to hold the orc's glare, still fighting despite her hindered limbs.
Without warning, Rodaìn saw the orc's arm travel to the sky, the vine of jeweled thorns trailing after it like a snake. Rodaìn instinctively pulled her head inward and downward at the familiar gesture of a raised hand, and was stunned with torment as the metallic whip slashed her prone back and shredded through her cloak and skin with its lance-like shards. The excruciating pain ripped her voice from her body, allowing a sudden cry escape before she crashed her teeth onto her bleeding bottom lip to contain her unwanted display of affliction. Water darted down her dirt-crusted eyelashes and escaped the chaos to be with the grime and filth-laden ground. Three more strikes agonized her tense yet trembling muscles and blood poured forth from the wounds. Rodaìn could not focus on the orcs snickers and whoops. She could only focus on the pain and her desire to save the hobbits from such disastrous pain. I cannot let another endure this. Not ones so innocent and joy-filled. I can take it. I can hold it.
Laying in pain on her stomach with her wrists still twisted beneath her, and her back burning with the bloody stings of four torturous lashes, Rodaìn received an odd feeling of relief from the pain that had erupted. She had taken it on. She had saved the hobbits.
An orc from the sidelines grunted and then questioned. "Now where'd the two halflings go, they'd make some good entertainment. Bring the halflings in!" he shouted. A cacophony of shouts echoed after this statement, but died down then grew to a new crescendo at the discovery of the missing hobbits.
"The girl! She distracted them so that they could get away!" an orc deducted.
"Oh, girl you'll pay for this one now won't you. You'll pay for this one," the limping orc growled as he readied his murderous whip again with a burning hate in his opaque black eyes. Rodaìn could not watch any longer. Not being a complete coward, she turned her gaze downward and stared at the blood-splattered ground, drenched in a deep maroon cloak. The ground that reflected and absorbed the vital liquid, the rich wine of the body. The orcs had not yet drank their fill.