AN: Longest chapter by far! Again, thank you to everyone who has commented, favorited or alerted this fanfic. Your support and feedback means so much! I can't stress that enough!

Chapter V

The Price of a Promise

My vision swam, all indistinct images. Stone wall. Lifeless vines. Clouded sky.

I zoned in and out of consciousness for hours, the rest of the night passing in a black blur.

When morning finally came and the red sun peaked over the forest horizon, I began to stir. A throbbing headache greeted me, the pressure kind that makes you feel like your head's in a vice grip. I sat there for some time, resting my head on my knees, trying to regain my senses. I forced myself to stand, spurred on by a feeling of dread. It was like those things people said when recounting a ghostly experience, 'There was this strong negative presence… I just felt like they didn't want me here.' Maybe I was too close to the exit. I didn't want to stick around and invite him back for a nice visit.

I tried hobbling back up the winding staircase, clutching the wall for support. The headache was throwing off my balance, very badly. In this god awful state, I had no hope of finding my way back to Thrain. Only after a few moments, I sat down against a wall and shut my eyes.

I was sore all over, my muscles lax as I moved. I unbuttoned my coat and lifted the shirt of my uniform. Sure enough, there were a number of bruises around my torso and also my legs and arms. A few scraps and puncture wounds decorated my purplish splotches, another reminder of those nasty vines.

I had been hoping to just pass out and sleep off my headache but I couldn't seem to fall asleep, even with the aid of the warm sun. I sighed and stood again, climbing staircase after staircase until I found my way back to one of the higher landings. A corpse in one of the hanging cages seemed familiar. It's dried up foot was bent backwards at an odd angle; I'd seen it before near the cell. I fought through my dizzying stupor and ascended the last staircase. I was back.

The cell door was closed again. I decided to call out before approaching, just in case.

"Thrain?"

I waited for a long moment before I heard his chains rattle and the door creak open. Thrain peeked out and eyed me carefully.

When the silence grew too great, I spoke again. "I told you I'd come back," I said, smiling weakly.

He opened the door wider and waved me in frantically. "Not safe," he rasped. "Not safe! Get back!"

This time, I followed his advice, limping into the dim cell. I slid down the wall opposite him as he hurriedly shut the door. "Not safe out there," I heard him mutter, shaking his head. Thrain shot me a piercing look. "Don't do that again."

"'Kay," I murmured, taking off my backpack and using it as a lumpy pillow. "Okay."

I jolted awake in a panic. Night had already fallen; I'd been sleeping all day. Now, my neck was stiff from sleeping on it weird. I felt oddly disoriented, like all of my internal organs had shifted to the side I had been sleeping on, making me lean to that side.

Thrain was asleep, groaning and muttering as if having a nightmare. I tried to rouse him by calling his name, gently shaking his shoulder but nothing worked. It was like he was too deep in the dream to wake up. It had to run its course.

But the nightmare only worsened with Thrain thrashing about and wailing. "No!" he cried, "You can't take it! It's mine!"

"Thrain! You have to wake up!" I shouted over his screams.

The old dwarf tossed and rolled, his chains clanging loudly. "It's mine! You can't have it!" He let out a long wail, clawing at his face. "My eyes! He took my eyes! I won't give it to him! It's mine!"

Thrain roared and shot up, his good eye wide and glazed over. "You!" he growled at me. "He sent you, didn't he?"

"No! I—"

"DIDN'T HE?" Thrain bellowed, lunging forward as if to attack me.

The chains held him back, luckily, but he continued to yell and snarl. "You can't have it! You can't take it from me! It's mine! It's my ring! Mine!"

I was scared as all hell, pressed against the farthest wall. I curled into a ball, shaking and praying that those rusted old chains held.

Thrain seemed to exhaust himself and collapsed against the wall, sobbing. "Can't take it," he moaned. "I have nothing left. Even took my name!"

I closed my eyes as they welled with tears, tucking my face into my knees. I wanted to be home, to see my mom and dad.

I hadn't felt this frightened and alone since that day with the hunter, when I didn't know if I'd get home in one piece. But right now, I was pretty sure I wouldn't get home at all. This couldn't be happening. But it was.

It was a grim reality yet one I had to accept. This was real.

My shoulders shook with silent tears as I listened to Thrain's weeping fill the small cell. That night, and many more like it, I cried myself to sleep.

Thrain slipped in and out of coherence in the days following. He went from mad as a hatter to a wise father in a matter of seconds.

It turns out he'd been here awhile. For years, actually, growing further into insanity at the hands of the Necromancer. But what did the evil prick want with the Dwarf-king? Well, the answer resides on his finger. I had glimpsed it once—a deep purple stone set in a band of gold— and Thrain remained wary of me ever since, when he remembered it, that is. Thrain had one of the Rings of Power, the mightiest of the seven that had been granted to the Dwarves. And Sauron wanted it back.

My hope of escaping was put on hold as surviving this place was main priority. I knew waltzing out the front door wasn't an option; I didn't need a repeat of the last episode. I figured scaling a wall or vaulting over would have a similar outcome—that or falling to my death. I was hoping I could think up a way to signal the Elves but so far, starting a forest fire was my best idea…

I don't know how long I've been here, days, weeks; it's really hard to tell. Even with the transitions of day to night, it's difficult to keep track. It's just something about this place that's disorienting. Even when Sauron isn't right in front of you (I had seen him on two occasions after the vine incident—I'll tell you later), his presence sort of lingers in the air. This feeling of dread and despair that just eats away at you, drains you… Sort of like a dementor, if I may, only you feel more empty and used up like some kind of energy vampire sapped you dry.

As I mentioned, Sauron reappeared a few nights after I'd last seen him. But he didn't come for me, he went after Thrain. He formed from the shadows of the cell, silent and unearthly, coming to stand before the cowering king. He wasn't corporal as he had been when I met him; he was like a living shadow. Not once did he attempt to touch Thrain or move closer to him, or me, but his mere presence was enough to send Thrain into agonizing death throws. It was mental torture, meant to wear Thrain down and to warn me should I cross him.

The following night, he repeated the same actions, tormenting the old Dwarf until his vocals gave out and he couldn't manage a scream. I feel so shamed in recounting this because not once did I try to intervene. I wanted to, believe me! But I was so terrified of being next, of him getting in my mind again that I stayed silent, huddled up against a wall, crying for the both of us.

I was surprised that he hadn't tried worming his way into my mind since our first encounter. But Sauron was patient. The longer I stayed here, the easier I'd be to control, just like Thrain who had lost the will to escape. I'm sure, at first, Sauron had thought me an easy target. Little human girl, piece of cake, right? Well, I was a piece of cake in a bear trap.

I had been lucky that he hadn't gotten any more information out of me. But I knew as I grew weaker in Dol Guldur, he'd be able to overtake me. So I tried preparing myself for I knew the day when the Necromancer would come for me drew closer. I needed to be able to clear my mind at will. I needed to know for sure that my memories were safely tucked away, not like the haphazard rush like last time. So I started meditating. No idea if it was doing any good but I got used to thinking of nothing, odd as it is to say, or sometimes focusing on one single thing. If I could concentrate hard enough, maybe I could stop Sauron from getting what he wants.

"My name is… Thrain?"

I opened my eyes at Thrain's words, snapping out of my semi-trance. I sat crossed-legged on the floor in front of him. He looked at me expectantly, awaiting an answer.

"Yeah. Your name's Thrain," I nodded. I gave him a small smile. "Do you remember my name?"

His brows furrowed and he frowned deeply. I went to speak but he shushed me. "Let me think," he insisted. I was only going to give him a clue. Thrain shook his head slowly. "Something strange, I know that…"

"Well, thanks," I chuckled.

"It uh… begins with 'A'? No! No," Thrain tugged on a piece of his grizzled beard in thought. His eye lit up. "An 'E'!"

"Yes!" I nodded enthusiastically.

He wrung his hands in thought, absently twirling his ring around his finger. I kept my eyes averted should he realize.

"Eh… Eeli…Em… Em, right?"

"That's the first part… two more syllables."

"Emerl…lin… Em…" He trailed off then growled, punching his knee. "Confound it! Just tell me again!"

"Emily."

Thrain swore loudly in Dwarvish. "I knew that," he told me. "I did."

I gave him a small smile. "I know."

He sighed. "That isn't an Elf name, is it?" he asked, annoyed.

"No," I laughed softly. "It's human, like me."

He grunted in reply, shifting his weight into a more comfortable position. I didn't feel like going back to meditating so I rummaged in my backpack for a bit for the sake of doing something. My stomach growled. I looked up at Thrain.

"Are you hungry?" I asked.

Thrain gave me a bitter smile. "I'm always hungry."

Yeah, I knew the feeling. "I'll be back in a bit," I told him, standing and stretching.

In the time that I had been there, I'd discovered a few fruit-bearing shrubs. They grew along a wall, inside a room whose ceiling caved in. The berries were large and deep red and surprisingly nontoxic. It was odd that something that wasn't evil and deadly would grow here but I didn't question my luck too much. It was our only food source since I came here, which didn't stop the hunger pangs or provide enough calories. But it did something. Before I had started gathering the berries, Thrain said he had been living on whatever crawled by, be it insect, spider, or rat. I think his ring had something to do with it, him surviving this long. It granted him an extended life, much like that of the One Ring.

I returned to the cell about twenty minutes later, my winter hat stuffed with the squishy red spheres that left stains on the inside. "I've got breakfast, lunch and dinner," I joked, setting the purple hat between us.

Thrain groaned, eying the berries. "Thank you, lass," he said, gratefully. Being a Dwarf, he was more used to red meats and hearty meals, not this rabbit food more fit for Elves.

I popped a berry in my mouth and shuddered—they tasted quite bad, not a nice blueberry or strawberry. They were puckery and sour with little tiny seeds that stuck in my teeth. After about a handful though, my tongue would start to get used to it and I wouldn't have to make funny faces.

Thrain had stopped eating. He normally made sure I ate at least half his share, making up excuses like "I can't stomach another one of those awful things!" or "That nasty Elf shit is making me sick!" I really appreciated his kindness; I found myself too often swaying or losing my balance. The aura of this place along with malnutrition was affecting me terribly.

"Lady Emily?"

I had told him a million times that it's "just Emily" but he always insisted on the title with phrases like "You're a lady if I ever seen one" or "If you're not a lady, then I'm not a Dwarf!" It's hard to argue with that.

"Yeah?"

Thrain looked pensive. "Did you know my son?" he asked quietly, his gaze on his hands.

I stopped chewing, feeling anxious. I hadn't told him much about my past, how I was from another world. I didn't need him thinking I was nuts, despite his own mental instability. I swallowed the lump of berries. "Uh… I know of him," I answered carefully.

"Would you… tell me about him?"

I licked my lips. One other reason, I didn't tell him much was because I knew he couldn't protect the information. Thrain had been here so long and so far under Sauron's influence that anything I told him would be like putting it on a serving platter for the evil git. But it didn't feel right to deny Thrain this request; he only remembered pieces of his history and most of them were bad. If I could spark one memory of happiness, then I would.

"What can I say about Thorin…?" I mused. "Well, he looks very similar to you, and his grandfather, Thror."

Thrain snorted. "Poor lad."

I smiled. "Oh, stop. He's very… um, handsome," I cleared my throat, awkwardly. "Brave is how I'd describe him. Extremely brave and determined… He's a great leader… and a fierce friend, loyal… He's a hero."

"Oh, I hope not a hero," Thrain groaned. "Heroes don't often live long…"

My throat closed up at his words. He was right.

"Well, he's a smart hero," I offered. "And he's got loads of friends and followers to support him."

Thrain was deep in thought for a long moment. "I wish I could see him again… one more time."

I sat up straighter. "Hey," I started, putting my hand on Thrain's arm. "Don't say that. We'll find a way out of here somehow. You'll see him again."

He inclined his head, giving me a 'get real' look. He was old and kind of senile and kind of insane, but he wasn't stupid. His optimism had gone out the window long ago if he ever had it in the first place.

With a wave of his hand, he beckoned me closer. "Come here, lass, I don't bite," he grumbled.

I scooted forward, walking on my knees till I was next to him. "What's up?" I asked then corrected my slang at his perplexed expression. "What is it?"

Thrain tugged on his beard. "I haven't known you very long, Lady Emily, but I thought you should know, I…" he paused as his voice cracked. "I consider you to be family."

My heart swelled at the old Dwarf's words. I wanted to say something but 'shut up' was the first thing to come to mind so I remained speechless. Thrain opened his palm to reveal a small golden ornament— a decoration he had removed from his beard.

I shook my head in disbelief. "Thrain, you don't have to—"

"Stubborn-headed as a Dwarf, you are sometimes," he said testily. "Oh, just humor an old man, will you?"

I smiled and gave in. "Alright."

"May I?" he nodded, indicated he wanted me to wear it.

I ran my fingers through my tangled hair, trying to take out most of the knots and leaned toward him. Thrain sectioned out a chunk of hair under my fringe, just in front of my ear. He carefully started braiding it down in a four strand plait. He stopped mid-way to put on the gold bobble—it was about an inch long, hexagonal in shape and had what looked like Celtic designs on it. The mechanism that held it in place was pretty interesting; there was a metal spiral that twisted into the braid and fit snuggly inside the outer piece that got slid on. After that was secured, Thrain finished the plait and ended it in an intricate knot to keep it from unraveling.

"Thank you," I said quietly, lifting the braid to look at his handiwork.

Thrain smiled but held a sadness in his expression. "Lady Emily, if… when you leave this place—Don't give me that look, lass, I know of what I speak. When you leave this fell pit, promise me something."

I was very hesitant but I nodded nonetheless for him to continue.

"Keep my son safe."

"I… think he can handle himself, well enough. He's a fine warrior—"

Thrain shook his head. "No, I don't mean it like that. Keep him safe from himself," he implored. "If he's anything like his father, Durin's stubbornness and pride is strong in his veins… More than a sword at his side or an axe, he needs someone to talk sense in his ear." He shook his head. "This is no easy task I ask of you, I know, and it isn't fair of me… but will you try?"

As I stared at Thrain and took in his desperate plea, I was numb. Save Thorin? I… I didn't even know if I could save myself. I found myself nodding, giving a weak half-smile.

"I will," I vowed. "I'll do everything I can."

He grinned at me gratefully, clasping my hands in his large ones. "Thank you," he said seriously. "Thank you."

White, hot pain flooded the whole of my body. I felt as if I had been dipped into lava, as if the flesh had melted from my bones, every nerve sizzling and set on fire.

It turns out Sauron wasn't a fan of my new trick.

He had swooped upon us in the cell, rather unexpectedly during the day. I had assumed he avoided daylight like a vampire but that wasn't the case. It was me he was after this time, his patience having worn down apparently. His power hit me like a ton of bricks, surging into the corners of my mind, seeking out knowledge of the Ring. It's a real pain in the ass too- like when someone says "don't think of a zebra dancing", what do you think of? A zebra dancing! I had to fight off my natural instincts, the reflexes of my mind to prevent him from gaining access to the information he so desperately sought.

So I did my best to focus on the image of a ballerina, specifically the little figurine atop a music box I once had. She had her blonde hair pulled into a bun and wore a pink tutu over a white leotard. Arms held over her head in a graceful arch and one leg extended upwards, she turned on the spot. And turned and turned to the twinkling tune of Swan Lake. And she turned and turned and turned.

It didn't take him long to get pissed. He outright roared, his beautiful face distorting to something inhuman, completely enraged at my audacity to mock him with ballerinas and resist his will. It seems stupid to say but my first reaction to his raw fury was to laugh which, honestly, didn't go over well with him. Of course, it didn't help that in my brief moment of victory, I decided to goad him with the classy phrase of, "Aww. Morgoth's bitch gonna cry?"

YEAH...

Uh, I might have gone a bit far.

That's when he started the torture. Because even though he couldn't read my mind or access all of it, Sauron could still manipulate it. Since the brain is the control center and registers sensations, he found a way to tweak it to his advantage. Like how he conjured up that nice meadow and such and made me think it was real. Kind of like that, only with the intention to cause pain. I swear, this is what the Cruciatus Curse would feel like!

I could hear Thrain shouting, through the loud rush of blood against my eardrums. "Leave her! Leave her! Take me!"

The agony was unbearable but I had no choice but to endure it. There was no physical contact involved so I wasn't really getting hurt. But it felt as if I had died a thousand horrific and painful deaths.

I slipped out of consciousness but awoke only moments after, to the sound of Thrain speaking. Once I came to, I jolted up, getting a wave of nausea wash over me. I threw up what little I had in my stomach but that did nothing to subside the ill feeling.

"Is he…?"

"Gone," Thrain finished, his voice hoarse from screaming.

I moved away from the puddle of sick, close to vomiting again from the sight of it. My whole body shook uncontrollably, still trying to cope with the trauma forced upon it.

"I can't do this much longer," I moaned. My heart was beating like a rabbit's. "We have to get outta here."

Thrain called me closer, "Come, come… It isn't safe out there."

Miserable and wretched, I crawled over to him to collapse into his fatherly embrace. Thrain rubbed my back, comfortingly, as I cried into his beard. "Not safe," he whispered, shaking his head. "Not safe out there… Heads will roll, roll… rolling… No. Not safe."

I choked back a sob and lifted my head to look at him. "What's your name?" I croaked.

He furrowed his brows. "Name…? I… I have a name… My name…"

His muttering continued and I cried harder.

Things only got worse from there.

The influence of the ring on Thrain grew stronger and he fell deeper into madness, more prone to outbursts or fits of rage and suspicion. My friend seemed lost to me and there was nothing I could do to help him. No amount of words could quell or comfort him. Again, I felt alone and prayed that this sprout of insanity would pass like it had before. But it wasn't meant to be so, for as my friend became weaker, our enemy grew more powerful.

The Dark Lord Sauron came to us once again but not as a phantom being. His maleficent aura radiated from him in scorching waves and chilling winds that obliterated the senses. I dropped to my knees by the enormity of his presence, clutching my heart for fear that it'd stop.

But he never saw me for his piercing gaze was only for Thrain.

The Dwarf-king pressed himself against the wall, shouting and sobbing at the being, for he knew what was to come. Sauron was in his waking mind, ripping the rest of his will apart.

"No!" I yelled, watching as Thrain cried out in terror.

I cast my fear aside in a moment of blind bravery and charged at the fell creature, a high battle-cry emanating from my mouth. My effort was short-lived; however, as Sauron flicked a gauntlet-clad hand in my direction and I was forced back into a wall. It felt as if gravity had shifted and was crushing me against the stones. I could hardly draw a sufficient amount of breath, let alone move, so I was forced to watch in horror as the beast closed in on Thrain. I wanted to shout, to draw his attention, but I was frozen still.

There was a moment, in the midst of all the chaos when everything seemed to stop. All I saw were quick flashes, tiny details engraved in my mind. Thrain went silent, tears streaming from his eye and into his beard. He looked his enemy in the face and, for a split second, he was lucid. His expression changed to that of a man courageously meeting his death; it plainly said "do your worst".

And Sauron did.

Blackness clouded my vision. I heard a sharp yelp and a sickening crunch followed by the rattle of chains then a dull thud. In the distance, the screeching of the Ringwraiths pierced the night. I felt Sauron's eyes on me, much like I had in the forest. Everything went silent, as if I had gone suddenly deaf. Immediately, I tried emptying my thoughts, bringing up my mental defenses despite my dizzying fear.

And then I heard his deep baritone, so close his breath tickled my ear. "I... will... break... you," he promised, each word dripping with malice.

I hit the ground, panicked and looked up to find Thrain in a heap on the ground. Sauron was nowhere in sight.

I rushed over to Thrain who was rocking back and forth, clutching his hand. The fingers were bent and broken, one of them bearing a band of pale, clean skin, where the Ring of Power had been.

I put my hand on his shoulder and he jerked around. At the sight of him, I jumped back. Without the ring's abilities, he seemed to age before my eyes, withered and weatherworn.

That night was filled with the sound of him choking on his sobs, blood splattering the stone with every cough. He didn't acknowledge me or anything else, aside from his ring being gone. I was too afraid to cry or sleep. All I did was sit up, watching and waiting.

Morning came and I roused from my half-sleep. I hadn't meant to but I dozed off. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes. Thrain was gone. I panicked, jumping up and shouldering my pack. I walked out into the cool air. My eyes darted around, looking for a sign of him. I was halfway down the first set of stairs when I heard a bang above me. Slowly, I ascended the staircase, a sense of dread creeping over me.

The door to the weapons' room creaked open and Thrain stumbled out. In his hands were an axe and a sword. My heart was pounding. I licked my lips nervously, watching him warily.

"Thrain?" I breathed.

He turned to me, his face a ghost of what it had been. "You," he snarled, "You did this… You did this!"

I shook my head but I knew that there'd be no reasoning with him. I fled. Thrain howled behind me, the sound of his heavy footsteps following.

Down corridors and through doors, archways, up and down staircases, I ran blindly. I was truly afraid, unsure if I'd survive the Dwarf-king's rage. But then his footfalls grew faint and he was no longer chasing me. Had I lost him?

I stopped to catch my breath, scanning around, anxiously. I was in a dark hallway, the ground littered with some of those long cages. I quickly bent down to inspect one, or rather the corpse in it. There was a dagger attached to his belt. I squeezed my hand through the bars, trying to free it. There was a flash of movement and I glanced up. Thrain stood in the doorway. I stopped fiddling with the clasp and withdrew my hand.

"It's me, Emily," I told him. "I'm your frien—"

Thrain lunged towards me. I had nearly no reaction time but as I saw him raise his axe above me, I took hold of the cage and brought it up as a shield. The impact sent me back on my butt but I held tight to the cage. Thrain's axe was embedded in the bars and the dried of husk of a corpse. He growled and tried freeing his weapon. Had he any sense, he could have swung at me with his sword but his warrior's skills were replaced with madness.

Scared, I released the cage and ran from him, through the other end of the hall and into a courtyard. I didn't look back to see if he had recovered. I found the nearest room and hurried inside, slamming the door shut.

Shaking, I waited, pressing my ear to the wooden door to listen for sounds of his approach. I didn't know what I'd do if he found me. I had no defense, no way out, no plan. I heard a shout, some ways off, and the clanging of metal. But there was a second voice, another man's. I couldn't hear very well but I assumed they were fighting.

It couldn't be Sauron; I'd know his voice anywhere. I was tempted to peek out but refused. There was no way I'd let curiosity get the better of me. So I waited…

It seemed like ages before the battle died down and silence fell over Dol Guldur. It took me awhile to gather to courage to crack open the door. No one in sight, I opened it further. I took hesitant steps out into the courtyard, ready to bolt at a moment's notice.

My heartbeat was just starting to return to normal when I heard low voices. On a whim, I followed the whispers and not long after, I found the whisperers. Thrain lay on the ground; blood stained his mouth and beard. Another man was crouched over him, speaking in hushed tones. I stood rooted to the spot, watching the scene in disbelief. Thrain retrieved two items from his garments- a map and a key. He handed them to the other man with a silent vow and then went still.

Thrain, my friend, was dead.

A hand went to the ornament in my hair as a weight hit my heart.

The man put a hand over the fallen Dwarf-king's eyes, sliding his lids shut. He straightened and stood, stowing the objects in his clothes. I absolutely gaped at him. His back was to me but I already knew who he was by his trademark pointed hat and wooden staff. And also by his long grey robes for which he was called.

"Gandalf," I breathed and the wizard whipped around, looking startled. "Gandalf the Grey."