A/N: Woah. So many updates!

PLEASE NOTE - I replaced the last chapter just recently. I made a east/west mistake. Sorry if you now need to re-orientate yourselves. Honest mistake. Fixed now. To clarify Serafina got off on the WEST bank of the River Anduin.

On another important note, I'd like to point out that I will be taking bits from Tolkien's novels and bits from Jackson's film adaptation in the remaining chapters (of which there are still MANY), just so that you are aware of what is going on in case you think it's following the movie sequence and then it suddenly feels like the book. My reason for this is merely to ensure I tell the story in the best way possible. It's also fun to keep you all guessing a little bit ;)

Oh and I should put a warning on here for violence. There is violence in this chapter, not on a grand scale, but it does happen.

R&R

Enjoy!

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Chapter Thirty-five

It wasn't long before Serafina heard distant clangs of metal, shouts and cries. She turned around a number of times to go back, but ultimately she knew she would be of little, or no help to them. She didn't even know what was attacking them.

So she walked on steadily desperately trying to focus on her bearings rather than on the sounds of carnage behind her. She picked up the pace and to her relief the noise faded slowly into the distance. Suddenly something different sounded over the hills and down the valleys. Her feet stopped dead, she knew it instantly - it was the horn of Gondor, Boromir carried it on him at all times. Her mind flew back to a conversation she'd had with Boromir by the riverbank, "I would have gone back for him. I am no coward," she'd told him. Her stomach churned. No coward? She gritted her teeth; this had nothing to do with Olin. Then - she could have saved him, now - she had no hope of helping defend the fellowship from whatever onslaught they were fighting. It was a completely different situation.

She took a step forward away from the horn. Boromir's voice rang in her ears, "I wish I were as callous as you," Serafina closed her eyes. She wanted to ask something of the gods, but she found nothing to ask. Hastily she squared her shoulders and straightened her back. If she was no coward, then she owed it to her friends to be no coward. Drawing her sword she turn around and ran back in the direction she had come, keeping her mind as blank as possible so that she wouldn't be tempted to change her mind again.

The closer she drew to where she had left the fellowship the more the ground began to tremble. She ignored it. Her thighs were burning from running up the slope but she ignored that too. Something began to move up ahead. Then another something moved. Suddenly she realised that a large number of massive dark figures were running full pelt towards her. All thoughts of valour fled her and self-preservation took over her mind. She turned around again and flew back down the slopes, retracing her recently retraced steps. If the situation had not been so dire she would have laughed at herself but as she looked over her shoulder at the things running towards her she knew it was no laughing matter.

She ran and ran, praying now that she would not twist an ankle or trip, if she did the mob of ugly dark figures would catch her. The glances behind her that she afforded herself suggest that the creatures were a type of orc. But these orcs were bigger, stronger and more dangerously armed than those she had faced in Moria. Some were even as tall as Aragorn. Serafina nearly stumbled on the tree root and she knew she needed to focus on getting away from them.

She could hear them gaining on her. They began to shout and cry out at her, realising there was still someone loose. She wondered what had happened to the others. Had they driven the orc-things away, or did the brutes kill them all? Arrows began flying past her. Serafina ducked as she ran, her sword flailing wildly. Something heavy and blunt hit her square in the back. A screech came from her mouth as she flew forwards down the hill and tumbled head over feet until she came to a dead halt against a solid tree. She reached for her sword at her hip, and then she realised she had been holding it when she fell. She must have dropped it. She tried to stand but her body was slow in responding. A massive dark shape loomed above her. The orc smiled at her scarily and grunted something at his companions. The last thing she remembered before the world went black was Aragorn asking her to promise him that she wouldn't let go of her sword. That was only that night before.

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A putrid stench filled her nostrils. She wanted to wake up from the dream, but the more she tried to wake up, the more real the smell and the nightmare became. It took her a few minutes to fully comprehend her situation. Her hands were bound and slung around the neck of one of the beasts that had chased her. The stench came from the beast. Despite her best efforts there was no direction to point her nose that was less smelly. It was difficult to tell but as far as she was aware she was relatively unhurt, and judging from the strength of the sunlight it was not long after dawn. The beasts around her ran on, untiringly through the sunlight. Before long she decided it was probably best to feign unconsciousness as long as possible - she did not want to draw any attention to herself.

At midday, she was thrown unceremoniously to the ground. She still tried desperately to appear to be out cold. But she couldn't help opening her eyes when two heavy lumps where thrown down beside her.

"Pippin!" she cried out in a harsh whisper, her eyes were wide. Pippin looked at her in disbelief,

"Fia, what are you doing here?"

"Much the same as you, I would imagine," she answered slightly annoyed at the politeness of the question in such a desperate situation. She looked over Pippin at the other lump, it was Merry, and he looked much worse for wear, "Is he…" she trailed off.

"He's alright," he said sadly, "just a bit knocked around," Pippin paused and frowned before continuing more urgently, "But Serafina, the only think keeping us alive is that they thing we've got the you-know-what. They have to take us to Isengard. Half of them don't care, they want to eat us anyway,"

"Does that make me dinner?" she hissed at him, her eyes riddled with fear.

"I don't know, but we're relatively safe. You on the other hand - you need to get out of here," he said worriedly.

Serafina looked around wildly. There was no escape; hundreds of orc creatures stood around her, fighting, conversing and eating.

"There is no way out," she moaned desperately.

"Don't worry Fia, we'll think of something," he said seriously, and then added, "I won't let them eat you,"

Serafina fought back a strangled laugh and Pippin grinned at her apologetically, neither quite sure what was funny, but both struck deeply by the absurdity of their situation.

On the other side of Pippin, Merry groaned and the hobbit turned to help him sit up. Serafina began to watch the orcs. She noticed now that they weren't all the same massive creatures that she had seen chasing her. Her heart sank as she realised there were more types of orc than the ones she'd met in Moria. Some of them were bow-legged and others with lighter skin, some with darker. They all wore different emblems on their shields and armour, some white, some red. And they were all arguing. It seemed that when they needed to talk between bands they spoke in a mutilated version of Westron that she could understand. The shorter ones wanted to find shelter in the sunlight, some wanted to kill the hobbits. Her ears pricked up when she heard the word 'girl'. Instantly she closed her eyes and hoped they would take her for still being unconscious, but she kept her ears open.

"I say we kill it now, eat it. Make us stronger,"

"No, we wait until girl is awake - then she make sport,"

"Yes, I always like play with food,"

"If we start to eat it now, it will wake up. So we can play, and eat now,"

"I like meat truly alive, I want it to scream and fight and give good sport,"

Serafina had to stop listening. It was all she could do to keep her eyes closed. She felt Pippin lay back down against her and whisper, "Don't move Fia, not yet. Do you have a knife, anything like a weapon?"

Serafina inclined her head the barest inch; she knew they hadn't taken at least one dagger.

"We're going to cause a scene, make a fight. They don't seem to need much encouragement. When things are really loud and chaotic, run! Run as fast as you can! Go to Rohan and get help,"

Serafina nodded again and a small hand slipped into hers, she squeezed it and mumbled, "I'll come back for you,"

"You'll go first," said Pippin matter-of-factly.

Serafina opened her eyes to the merest slits and watched Pippin. He grabbed a small rock by his side and threw it with his hands bound like hers at an orc that had been arguing with three others. The effect was almost instantaneous. None of the orcs seemed to care who threw the stone; they were just eager to blame and fight. Soon the every orc was screaming, yelling, or hitting. Merry and Pippin had long since moved out of harms way and Serafina was in danger of being trampled. She stood quickly, and hurried toward the nearest boulder to hide behind it. She made it unnoticed. Just a matter of yards away stood a cluster of rock and trees that she thought she could hide in until the group had moved on. Stealing herself she turned her back on the crowd of angry orcs and began towards the trees. Just before she left the cover of the boulder a bloody hand gripped her left shoulder like a vice and ripped her backwards onto the ground.

Serafina looked up terrified into the face of a large orc with a white handprint smeared across his cheek. His hand was still on her shoulder and he ripped and pulled at it. She heard the fabric of her dress tear.

"Scream little pretty," he growled, "If you scream they might save you for another hour. If you don't - I'll have you here,"

Her throat constricted. She wanted very much to scream but she was too horrified to make any noise at all. The orc let go of her shoulder and it seared in pain as the blood rushed back to it and tried to find its way down her arm. The orc came around to look at her the right way up. A massive foot stamped onto her hip and he lent down to look at her face.

"I can smell you fear," he snarled and his lips curled up like a dog's. Serafina's bound hands were in front of her chest. She could not help wondering what he meant by 'have her'. She remembered Boromir warning Aragorn, implying that she may be taken advantage of on her own. If that was what he meant by 'having her' she wished he would eat her alive instead. Suddenly she remembered her wits and began to struggle under the weight of the orc. He seemed to be amused by it and laughed at her in a disgusting guttural snigger.

Panic was taking her, and she knew it. Desperately she fought to keep a hold of her mind; otherwise she would lose her life. She continued to squirm is distress and the orc pulled out a dirty, rusty sword that looked like it had a lifetimes worth of killings splattered upon it in varying shades of black blood. He stood and drew the sword under her neck and her stomach revolted against the smell of it. It was like purifying flesh. Her only hope was her one dagger, and for that she needed him to be close. She stopped moving; squirming certainly wasn't going to work. She locked eyes with the beast and he squatted on top of her with a foot to one side, trapping her under him, between his legs. She could no longer feel her hip.

"What? Got no more fight in you?" he sounded disappointed. He brought his face so close to her so that she tasted his stink when she breathed. She needed to keep his face close to hers, or he would see what she was up to. Shaking her head, she tried to look up at him pleadingly.

"I make you squirm, make you wriggle, make you scream," he roared.

Serafina did not need to pretend to look scared as he said this. Her eye widened naturally at the sinister and cold threat, and he smiled his snarling smile at her fear. Sword still in one hand his other moved to the shoulder he'd grabbed earlier but his face didn't move away from hers. Her dress ripped more at her shoulder, she knew parts of it were torn off altogether and he watched her face as it turned different shades of horror. The rip he had made in her dress though served another purpose that she knew he was not expecting. With her bound hands she tore her smallest and most concealed dagger from it's hiding place in the middle of her chest. She twirled it around quickly in her hands and smiled at him in a snarl he would have been proud to wear. He looked at her in confusion for a moment before she moved swiftly. With all of the strength she could channel into her arms and hands she thrust the dagger into his face and pulled it out again. He roared but it was lost in the rabble still coming from the hoard of orc fighting over Pippin's stone. He knelt up away from her and she elbowed the sword out of his hand. She tried to sit up but he still had half of his weight on her hip.

Dripping with blood he knelt back over her drawing his own knife but Serafina was quicker; she thrust her small dagger into his temple. He twitched. She twisted it in like turning a crank, grunting with effort. A last gurgling sound came from him and he collapsed on top of her.

She took a few moments to try to compose herself, but time was precious. Hands still bound she pushed at the dead orc. But he was immovable. Nearly crying with desperation she rolled. Eventually the orc slipped off her the slightest amount so that she could wriggle free. She stood gingery. Her hip, she knew was badly bruised and the flesh around it would probably swell but if the bone was broken she would have known by now. She tested her shoulder, and found it to be much the same. Her dress was not unrepairable, but she had no needle or thread - it did not make her indecent but it exposed the already darkening skin. She looked down at the carcass of the orc. Her small dagger stuck out of its temple. She liked the way it looked there but she knew she would need it. With one final effort she yanked it out of its head.

Without looking back Serafina ran for the shelter of the trees, grateful to escape with her life.

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Her mouth was dry; she had no food, no water and had followed the orcs for as far as she could see them. After they disappeared from her sight she stumbled onwards in the direction they had been heading. Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas and Boromir would be with Frodo and Sam, on their way to Mordor. She was the only hope Merry and Pippin had of survival, and she was failing them.

In vein she tried to push herself faster but her legs would only turn over so quickly without any energy to help them. She had been following the orcs since they left the place where she'd escaped and she was almost through her second night. They were beyond her now, but she refused to stop walking. There was nowhere else to go.

Before her she saw a darkness, blacker than the night. It grew as dawn approached. Underneath the dawn reddened sky she saw a vast forest and a fire burning brightly before it. With a last surge of determination she hastened towards the fire, hoping to find help or water.

When she reached the place of the fire she found a large company of horsemen and horses. The men were picking up the few remaining carcasses littering the ground. With a sudden spark of recognition Serafina identified the corpses as the orcs that had taken her captive. She stole her way to a small corpse. Orc. Casting her eye around quickly she saw another hobbit sized lump on the ground and ran to it. Orc. She was about to move on quickly again before the men saw her but something shiny caught her eye. She knelt down beside it and pulled the shiny thing from its hand. It was silver belt, identical to the ones that Merry and Pippin had been given from Lady Galadriel. Blood drained from her face; this was one of their belts. Where were the hobbits? Slowly she began to realise that if everything around them was dead, it was unlikely that they had survived. Could it be possible that they were killed in the battle? Or was it more probable that the stomachs of the orcs won out and they ate them before fulfilling their quest.

A shout brought her to her feet. Spears and pikes were being pointed at her on all sides. She lifted her hands in surrender; nothing mattered anymore.

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