Chapter 27: Captive

Sara hurried along the mountain path, anxious to know what had caused the company's sudden outcry. She rounded the last corner expecting to find Nori at the cave entrance, but he was not there, no one was, at the cave entrance or otherwise. The cave was completely empty. Where could they have gone? She searched the cavern but other than the faint smell of musty clothes, dwarf boots, and pipe tobacco, there was no indication they had been here at all. She felt panic well inside her as she exited the cave… and screamed at the hideous face staring back at her.

There was an orc on the path! She reacted instinctively as it reached for her, clasping it's wrist and pulling it forward off balance and to the side, causing it to tumble over the edge, screeching as it clawed for purchase. Arms closed around her neck from behind and her hands came up gripping it as she thrust her hips backward, simultaneously pulling her attacker over her, dropping him on the ground in front of her. She stomped hard on it's face and leapt over the fallen orc. She ran down the path praying her eyes didn't deceive her in the faint light from the sky.

She did not stop or look behind as she dashed along the mountainside until she came tearing around a corner and into the arms of another orc. This one was larger than the other two and she shoved away from it turning to run again but a hand caught the hood of her coat. She gripped the opening and yanked it apart, her adrenaline lending her strength. As the deer antler buttons popped off, she slipped from her coat and fled. She was a ways up the path when a warg dropped down into the path before her snarling, its hackles rising as it stalked towards her. She could not climb fast enough and down was too perilous. She backed down the path unwilling to turn her back on the creature bearing down on her, even when she heard the tread of heavy feet behind her. Something struck the back of her head and she collapsed blacking out.

Sara came to… and screamed. She was looking out over a sheer drop moving quickly. Sharp fingers pinched her ribs harshly and she fell silent. The ground rushed past her and she felt coarse fur rubbing her cheek. Her hands were bound in front of her and she was draped over the oscillating shoulders of a warg. She looked up to see the orc rider beside her; he was the one she had flipped. He sneered down at her with his one good eye and pinched her hard again. She winced and dropped her head looking sideways down the path to see three other warg and orc pairs in front of them and a lone warg behind. She tried to readjust herself as the warg's shoulder blades jabbed into her ribs painfully but she stilled when she felt the cool brush of metal against the back of her neck. The orc said something in a language she did not understand, but the tone and knife were message enough. She relaxed back down trying to ignore the discomfort in her chest. She had to get away and find out what had happened to Bilbo and the dwarves, but she could see no way out of her current situation … yet.

They rode this way for several hours, One Eye pinching her now and again for no apparent reason. She guessed it was mild revenge for escaping him earlier, or perhaps he didn't like his face being stamped on. It was only as the sun was coming over the horizon that they began to slow, turning off the path and bounding up a steep incline until they reached a stand of close set pine trees. One Eye dismounted pulling her off the warg by her bound wrists and clumsily she staggered to her feet rather than be dragged through the dirt. He pulled her to stand beside a fire ring filled with smoking coals. He released her as the other riders came to join him, circling her. There were four orcs all together. One orc was One Eye, there was also one with a gimp leg, another with a face that reminded her of a pug, and a large one who seemed to be in charge.

The leader looked at her appraisalingly and barked an order she did not understand and the other three reached for her. She jumped back trying to avoid their grabbing hands, but was brought up short when she felt a spear point in her back. The large orc stood behind her sneering. He repeated the order and she let her shoulders fall as she submitted to the probing, pinching, and squeezing hands running over her body trying to fight back her revulsion. In their searching they ripped the pockets of her jeans and the back of her t-shirt, exposing her shoulders. When they were satisfied her pockets were empty and she carried nothing other than her old SD card, her necklace, and a braided leather bracelet Kili had given her, Pug Face shoved her to the ground and tugged her boots off her feet to examine the strange footwear. The leader gave another order in the guttural language and she was dragged to a tree and forced to kneel as her hands and feet were tied behind her around the slim trunk of the tree. The orcs moved off arguing over her boots, each trying to wear them but when no one could fit them on their disfigured feet they were tossed aside along with her other belongings on top of her coat.

Sara spied Fili's lost pony tied to a tree across the camp, stamping and whining. She tried to see if she could undo the knots holding her feet, but the ropes around her hands and wrists were too tight, not allowing her fingers any room to work. She heard the pad of feet to her right and froze as a large wet nose muzzled through her hair; goosebumps burst over her skin as the warg began to growl. She kept her head down trying not to move as the growl was punctuated with a bark. A stone smacked into the wargs head and it backed off at the sharp command from Gimpy. She was left alone then, the orcs busy amongst themselves, the occasional argument breaking out between them, and the wargs dozing a ways off.

Why did the orcs take her prisoner? She would have thought they would just kill her, eat her, or… well who knew. And what had happened to the company? Were they all right? Where had they gone? Had they been captured by the Orcs as well, or killed? She knew they would not just up and leave without her, so something must have happened to them. The sun climbed high into the sky; her legs and feet had fallen asleep and gone numb a long time ago. Her arms and shoulders ached, but it was better sore and alive than dead. Despite her discomfort she was finding it hard to stay awake as she sat hour after hour unmoving and undisturbed.

Her head snapped up when she heard the howling of wargs in the distance. The four orcs around the fire jumped to their feet, once again arguing as they drew closer to her. About twenty wargs and their riders came loping into the temporary camp though they did not dismount. Sara heard heavy feet hit the ground behind her and moments later an enormous white striped warg stalked past, the four orcs in front of her scrambling to get out of its way as it found a large rock to lay upon, its keen green eyes watching the camp. There was a looming presence behind her and Sara dared not turn her head to look behind her as she watched her captors backed away a few steps, cowering. A hulking white orc passed by her shoulder coming to address her captors, his back to her. His back and ribs were laced with deep cuts and pink scars and his left arm ended with a large metal claw driven into what remained of his forearm.

One Eye and Pug Face pushed Gimpy forward to answer to the white orc. Glancing over his shoulder in fear, Gimpy began to gesticulate wildly as he spoke again in the language of the Orcs. Sara heard the name Okensheild, but understood nothing else. The white orc let out and enraged roar, swinging at Gimpy with his metal claw, catching the smaller orc in the neck effectively ripping open his throat. Gimpy fell to the ground near Sara's feet clutching his sputtering neck backing away, terror written plain across his distorted face. The white orc gave a sharp command to the riderless wargs nearby and they fell on Gimpy ripping him apart in their collective jaws. Sara closed her eyes as something wet spattered across her face, wishing she could close her ears to the dying screams that were followed by much more grisly sounds.

The white orc returned his attention to the three others before him. This time the larger leader was pushed forward, stammering. The white orc raised his claw about to repeat his earlier actions when the smaller orc said something quickly and pointed at her. The claw lowered and Sara drew in a breath, bracing for the attention to be turned to her, but nothing could have prepared her for the face that turned to survey her.

It was him!

It was the face that had jolted her awake so many times in recent nights; the face that belonged to her nightmares. The white scarred face of the pale orc she had seen in Lady Galadriel's mirror.

He called orders to those in camp not looking away from her and in moments the camp was empty. Sara was left alone with the white orc. He strode to the fire, kicking the dying coals back into life and drew two knives from his belt pushing them into the glowing red embers. His gaze fell on her like a leaden blanket, suffocating thought and reason. She dared not look away as he closed the distance and crouched before her, leaning forward.

She froze, even her heart seeming not to beat as he reached for her face, gripping it tightly in his scarred hand, turning it this way and that. His hand moved to the back of her neck tangling in her hair before he jerked her head back exposing her neck. He leaned closer, his nose grazing her skin as he drew in a breath, inhaling her scent. She squeezed her eyes shut trying to focus on anything but the dread and revolution crawling over her. After what seemed the longest seconds in her life, he released her. Sara fought back the stinging in her eyes as the white orc sat back on his haunches, his ice blue eyes watching her.

He spoke, but his words were in the tongue of his kind. She shook her head and he tried again, his temper rising as he repeated the words.

"I don't understand," she said, her voice quavering. He grit his teeth, his jaw working before he spoke again and this time she could understand his broken words.

"You are the woman who travels with Oakenshield." It was not a question but a statement. "Where is he? Where is the would-be dwarf king?"

"I don't know," she said never taking her eyes off his. Sara felt as though she were watching a cobra, waiting for it to strike. He leaned forward and she flinched away from him instinctively. His hand rested on the tree trunk above her head as his claw pressed into the soft flesh under her chin.

"You lie," he said, his voice calm but deadly. "Do not lie to me. You are the dwarves woman. Their scent is fresh and strong on you."

"I don't... know where they are," she stammered. "I was..."

He slammed his hand into the tree above her head, growling through his pointed teeth. She fell silent, fear charging through her.

"Where is Thorin Oakensheild?" he asked, his voice menacing.

"I don't know. We got separated." The claw at her throat pressed harder. "They vanished from the cave we were sheltering in," she continued in a rush her words choked. "I was... not gone more than ten minutes ....but when I got back there was nobody there... The cave was empty." He pushed away from the tree roaring in frustration. He turned back to her.

"Why would the dwarves allow a woman to travel with them?"

"Gandalf made them take me," she choked out, her control cracking as hot tears slipped down her cheeks.

"Why?" he asked, crouching before her again.

"I don't know," she lied. "He's a crazy old wizard. I just wanted to go home." He grabbed her cheeks and slammed her head back against the tree. Her vision fuzzed over slightly and there was a ringing in her ears.

"You are in high demand," he said quietly still gripping her face. "Tell me, why would someone want you captured alive?"

"I...I don't know," she said again. He leaned into her face as his hand slipped lower to clamp around her neck. "I told you not to lie to me," he hissed as his massive hand cut off her air supply. "But you will tell me in time." He held her, sneering as she struggled for breath until at last her vision faded to black.

Burning. Something was burning. A searing heat in her left arm registered in her mind and she woke screaming for the second time that day. She was laying on her back and a heavy weight pressed down on her chest and arm. The heat retreated. She opened her eyes and saw the white orc looming over her, kneeling, one knee on her chest and the other on her arm. He held a knife in his hand and she could see the heat radiating off the blade ripple the cool air around it. She watched in horror as he pressed the flat of the searing blade once again to the underside of her arm just above the wrist.

She screamed, writhing, trying to break free but her legs were bound at the ankles and knees. She hit and scratched him with her free hand but he seemed not to notice as he continued to burn her. When she tried to reach for his hand containing the knife, he caught her hand and trapped it against the ground with his claw pushing it into the dirt, and shifted the hot blade on her arm branding her further. Her screams and struggles gradually gave way to silent tears and stillness when it became clear she could not escape. Instead she focused on blocking out the pain burning through her as much as she could. He branded down her wrist and after removing the glove on her left hand, proceeded to burn her palm, speaking not a word till he began on her right arm.

"The white one claims that Oakenshield favors you," he said pausing his grisly work to sift his fingers through her loose hair on the left side of her head. His fingers wrapped around the small braid behind her ear and she cried out in pain and shock when he yanked it free from her head. He examined the bead swinging from the hair. "It seems that you are important to at least one of the dwarves." He threw the braid aside. "But it will make no difference to you. I will throw your defiled body that their feet." He bent to retrieve a fresh knife from the coals continuing his work on her right arm. "Do you think your death will drive Oakenshild mad like his father?" he taunted as he reached her wrist. She did not respond. He grasped her glove pulling it off her right hand and froze. When she dared to look up at him she saw his face had darkened and he snarled.

"What is this?" he growled wrenching her arm as he pulled her hand in front of his face. "Why do you bear this mark? Tell me!" he commanded.

"It's just a birthmark," she said quietly, not meeting his gaze.

"Liar," he spat. "This is why the white one seeks to obtain you, but neither he nor Oakenshield will have you. You go to Dol Guldur. Long has my master searched for one such as you. Unfortunately, he will want you alive," he said brushing her cheek in mock tenderness before his hand settled heavily around her neck. "But, I may yet have my way with you." He rose and took her by the hair, dragging her to a large tree.

Just as he had finished tying her hands, three riders came into camp. It was her three original captors. One eye dismounted and came to stand before the whtie orc. She only understood one word of the hasty conversation between One Eye and the white orc… Oakenshield. The white orc seemed pleased as he retrieved her leather coat from the ground where it had been dropped. He gave a sharp command and the white warg bounded from its rock and turned on the shrieking pony beginning to devour it. Taking a knife to her coat, he cut several strategic holes in the leather and strode over to his warg dragging her coat through the blood pooling at his mount's feet.

"I will bring you back the dwarf king's head," he called to her before he wheeled off leaving her with the three orcs. He was going after the company! He was going after Thorin! She had to get way, she had to warn them! She strained against the ropes binding her to the tree but they would not give. Her worry only mounted when the air was pierced by several warg howls and soon after she could hear the familiar yells and shouts of the dwarves in the distance.

The white orc had been gone for about twenty minutes and the other three were clustered around the fire, roasting chunks of meat they had stripped from the mangled pony, when the wargs lifted their heads growling. They clambered to their feet, the fur on their backs raised, their ears pricked forward and teeth bared. The orcs paid them no mind but continued to eat. Sara's heart skipped a beat when she heard the soft pad of enormous feet and a rumbling huffing breath approaching from behind her. She tried to see around the tree to see what could possibly upset the wargs but the trunk was to large. Suddenly the wargs ears and tails dropped and they turned tail and fled whimpering. The three orcs around the fire jumped to their feet, shouting and cursing after their fleeing mounts, but Sara was very still, for what ever had scared the wargs was now very close. Angrily the orcs returned to the fire, but no sooner had they begin to eat than a deafening roar reverberated through the twilight air and an enormous creature burst from the woods behind Sara. It came tearing into camp swatting at the orcs with paws the size of car tires, killing Pug Face instantly. In the fading light Sara could just make out the hulking shape and as the profile passed across the fire light she was sure. It was a colossal bear; at least as big as Nathen's red Chevy Suburban. It turned, lunging for the large orc, catching the screaming creature and its massive jaws before the orc fell silent, quite dead. Letting the limp body fall from its maw it stalked towards Sara and she held her breath hoping it would be a quick end, but the bear passed right by her. She heard a scream from the other side of the tree that fell short at the sound of claws scraping through the back of a tree. The ropes holding her wrists fell free as One Eye collapsed to the ground beside her, his one good eye staring blankly. Sara didn't move as the bear came around the tree sniffing at the body beside her. It moved off slowly in the direction the wargs had fled, completely ignoring her.

Letting out of breath of relief, she reached to One Eye's body trying to ignore the black fluid staining his front and her hands as she pulled a knife from his belt and quickly cut her ropes. Getting unsteadily to her feet, she retrieved her boots, pulling them on not bothering to lace them up. Quickly she gathered her belongings, restoring her necklace to its place around her neck and stuffing the other things down her bra, as her pockets were now just gaping holes in her pants. Thankfully her pants waistband was still intact. She looked up to see flames were beginning to brush the darkening sky. She could hear a commotion from that direction so grabbing the large orcs spear she set off at a run, stopping only to snatch up her fallen braid with Fili's bead, shoving it down her shirt.

Sara ran through the trees trying to see in the twilight, making her way towards the blaze in front of her. The sounds were drawing closer and she slowed going more cautiously, not wishing to draw attention to herself. She ducked behind a tree as a warg ran past her, shrieking, it's fur aflame. She continued to move forward, the sounds of the dwarves distress growing louder. She was almost on top of them when the wind shifted slightly and the smoke choking the air blew to the side. Her heart stopped. Thorin was in the powerful jaws of the white warg, the white orc astride his mount. She watched as Thorin brought the hilt of his sword down on the beast's snout. It yipped in pain and threw him into the air. He landed on his back on a knoll of rough stone and she watched for Thorin to get to his feet, but he did not move. She began to panic as an orc approached him, his sword at Thorin's throat.

"Thorin!" she screamed, running towards him, gripping the shaft of the spear in both hands despite the pain. She would not let Thorin be killed. The very possibility made her heart ache. She charged forward letting loose a battle-cry she did not know she had, but before she could reach him something strange happened. A small glowing blue sword appeared out of thin air and as quickly as it had appeared, it disappeared, driven deep into the orcs ribs. The creature crumpled and the blue sword withdrew from its body and then vanished once again, tip first. She was almost to Thorin when Bilbo winked into existence leaning over him, tucking something into his waistcoat pocket. Sara saw the white orc creeping up on the distracted hobbit from the side.

"Bilbo!" she cried. "Watch out!" But at that moment Fili and Dwalin slammed into the white orc driving it back. Several of the others came charging through the woods brandishing their weapons, attacking the enemy with terrifying ferocity. Sara ran to Thorin and Bilbo, dropping to her knees beside them. Thorin was unconscious and a pool of blood was spreading from just below his left shoulder.

"Bilbo, where is Oin?" she asked pressing down on Thorin's wound.

"I'm not sure," said Bilbo, his eyes wide and panicked. As if summoned Oin was suddenly with them. He shifted aside Thorin's armored shirt undoing the ties at the neck and reached beneath to inspect the wound with his hands. His face paled.

"He is losing too much blood," he said gravely. "He will bleed out before I can heal him," said the old healer.

"Oin," she asked urgently. "Where is this small white packet I gave you? Find it, we need it."

"How is that little packet supposed to help?" he asked trying to stem the flow of blood staining Thorin's shirt.

"Just get it!" she yelled. "Hurry!" He nodded and she took over applying pressure.Quickly Oin produce the pack of Quikclot Gauze.

"Rip it open and hand me the end of the bandaging," she instructed as her fingers shifted down into the muscle of Thorin's shoulder searching for the greatest source of bleeding. A warm gush met her fingers and she fought down the panic threatening to take over. Oin passed the end of the gauze into her hands and she began to pack the wound, silently thanking Nathan for making her watch that horrible training video on YouTube. Soon the wound was packed and she held it in place waiting for it to activate. Already there was less blood pooling around her fingers.

All around them was pandemonium. Dwalin was still fighting the white orc, but Fili had fallen back, a hand pressed tightly to his side, his face pained. More orcs and wargs seemed to appear and the dwarves were being pressed closer and closer to Sara, Bilbo, Oin, and Thorin, protecting them. Sara could not see Gandalf, Dori, or Ori but no sooner did she noticed this then she heard the same earth-shattering roar she had heard in the orcs camp in the distance.

"There's a bear coming," she cried to Bilbo and Oin over the din. "We need to …" but she was interrupted by the ear splitting shriek of a large bird. Something swept through the orc ranks picking up one in each of its taloned feet and flew dropping them over the cliff. There were more gigantic birds, eagles Sara realized, scattering the orcs and wargs alike. The white orc glared directly at Sara and let out an enraged roar as he urged his mount back between the trees out of the grasp for the eagles. There was a rush of wings and Oin was gone; another and Bilbo too was lifted into the sky screaming. She looked up to see Gandalf riding on the back of one of the immense birds. Sara bent low over Thorin, determined to keep the pressure on the packing when soft feathers brushed her cheeks.

"Come little one, you must leave this place." Sara looked up at the eagle who had landed beside her and Thorin. "Let him go so I may carry you," it said.

"I can't," she said clinging tighter to him. "If I don't keep this in place he will bleed and die." The eagle cocked its head and fluffed it's feathers indignantly. "Please I can't leave him."

"Very well," it said after a pause. "I will carry you both. Prepare yourself." Sara did the only thing she could think of and lay down a top of Thorin, one hand down to his shirt front and the other up his sleeve, keeping pressure on the wound. She looked up at the eagle and nodded. It stepped forward and took them gently into its talons and slowly lifted them into the night sky. The last thing she saw before it turned away from the rocky precipice was the face of the white orc screaming in rage.