Thanks to luinthien for reviewing!!  To all you lurkers... thanks for reading!! *g*

Okay, so now I have no idea when I'll post these chapters!  Originally I said Saturdays, but today is not Saturday...  Just know that it'll be about every two weeks. (maybe less if I get reviews)  *g*

A quick note:  There is some Quenya and Black Speech in this chapter.  I spent a long time looking up all of the words and trying to get the grammar and syntax correct, but the data on the websites didn't always agree. Especially with the Black Speech, I was forced to choose words that looked the most authentic.  I know that it’s no where near perfect, but if there is a major problem, please let me know, and I’ll do my best to correct it.  Thanks guys!

On to the post!

Chapter 9

            Laughter from the race of Men could be heard up and down the corridors of Isengard, something that had not been heard there for many years.

            A cruel smile crept across Felnorvard’s face as he stood outside the dungeon door, a handful of Orcs close behind.  It was time.

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            Aragorn knew their solitude couldn’t last forever, but he had hoped for a while longer to recover himself both physically and mentally.  They had been sitting, enjoying each others’ company, when Felnorvard had marched into their cell. Orcs had rushed in, surrounding the captives, and Milena was taken away separately while the two men were tightly bound. When they were finally forced from the room, the men were turned to the left, opposite the direction Milena took.

            Now, after navigating the corridors of Isengard, Rayford and Aragorn found themselves standing in a small room.  Quickly looking around, the Ranger could see manacles chained to the ceiling.  He groaned inwardly.  He was in no mood to play Saruman’s games.

            But the two were not fettered.  Instead, Aragorn was forced to his knees by the hands of two strong Orcs behind him, while Rayford remained standing.  The pressure remained on the Ranger’s shoulders until he was sitting on top of his legs, pinning them under him.  Then, one of the Orcs knelt behind him, one hand clutching each of the man’s shoulders.  Aragorn’s heart sank as he saw Felnorvard emerge from the shadows holding a mug. 

            A low growl escaped from the Ranger’s lips as he began to struggle against his bonds.  He could feel the foul breath of the Orc on the back of his neck as the creature wrapped its arms further around the man.  It made his skin crawl, but he continued nevertheless.

            As Felnorvard continued to advance, Aragorn did the only thing he could think of and threw his head back.  A loud crack could be heard as he connected with the face of the Orc.  The force of the impact caused the creature to release its hold as it fell back, dazed.

            Even though he wasn’t sure where he was planning to go, Aragorn used the opportunity to scramble to his feet.  But before he could regain his footing, another Orc roughly pushed him back to the ground, having taken the other’s place.  Aragorn’s only comfort at the moment was spotting the first Orc picking himself off the floor, nursing a bloody and obviously broken nose.

            But his attention was quickly redirected as Felnorvard stepped directly in front of him.  Aragorn’s eyes narrowed as he watched the man kneel and offer the mug.  The muscles in Aragorn’s jaw tightened and locked as he glared at him. 

            Felnorvard sighed in annoyance.  “Of course, I nearly forgot,” he said, more to himself then anyone.  “You like to make it difficult.”  With the mug in one hand he drew his dagger and nodded to the Orc.

            Aragorn was surprised to feel himself being pulled backwards over top his legs.  He tried to struggle as his body was bent further and further down, but with his legs underneath him, it proved to be impossible.

            The muscles in his upper thighs burned as they were stretched to their limits.  Finally, with his elbows touching the floor, Aragorn’s head came to rest in the lap of an Orc.  He looked up at the cruel smile on the hideous creature’s face and shuddered.  This was not a position he wanted to be in.

            With the Orc holding the Ranger’s shoulders down and Felnorvard putting pressure on his knees, Aragorn could not move an inch.  His limbs were being stretched in far too many directions to allow movement.

            Felnorvard leaned over and placed the tip of his dagger on Aragorn’s lips.  The Ranger flinched as the blade’s end nicked the underside of his upper lip, drawing blood.

            Felnorvard smirked at his reaction.  He nodded and Aragorn felt himself being pulled higher onto the Orc, so that his head was now bent and resting on the creature’s stomach.  Aragorn tried again to pull himself away, not wanting to touch the disgusting beast but could not.

            The blade continued to maneuver its way past Aragorn’s lips until it found the natural gap that existed between the upper and lower jaw.  Then, Felnorvard slowly raised the handle of the dagger, using it like a lever to pry open the jaw.

            Aragorn had very little time to determine his own course of action.  He could feel that the blade was dangerously sharp, and a wound to the mouth would be painful and difficult to heal.

            Reluctantly, Aragorn allowed his mouth to open, though he was surprised when the blade entered further and rested lengthwise on his tongue.  The dagger insured that the Ranger’s mouth would remain open.

            Felnorvard poured in a mouthful of the potion.  Aragorn was forced to swallow, however the movement caused the blade to bite into his tongue.  He tasted blood but thankfully, not enough to make him worry.  The dagger was being used only as a warning.

            After the mug had been emptied, Aragorn was pulled back onto his feet.  Although he felt dizzy and faint, he remained upright.  This was what made Aragorn truly angry.  Had he already fallen so far that he could surrender himself like that?  There had been no real force involved that time, and he had made the conscious choice to open his mouth!  He had surrendered to avoid the superficial pain the dagger would have caused.  He’d never had a problem keeping his resolve before.  And now, to do so in the face of the Enemy and standing beside Rayford who was looking to him for strength and leadership…  He would not make the mistake again.

            Out of the corner of his eye, Aragorn could see Rayford watching him.  Very quietly, he heard him asking what had happened and if he was all right, but Aragorn refused to answer.  He didn’t want to lie to the boy, but he just couldn’t bring himself to utter the truth, not yet.

Movement from the opposite end of the room caught the Ranger’s attention, and for the second time in as many minutes, his heart jumped into his throat.Aragorn heard his companion gasp as they watched Saruman enter through a hidden door with two Orcs carrying an unconscious woman.  Milena.  She was quickly secured to the shackles attached to the ceiling, her head flopping onto her chest.

            “What have you done to her?” Rayford barked.  He began to struggle wildly against the Orc that held him.

            Aragorn closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.  Rayford was just going to get them into more trouble, bursting out like that, but Aragorn was not about to draw attention to himself.  It would only cause Milena more suffering.  Now, was the time for silent defiance.  He mentally winced as the Orcs used their fists to subdue the young man. 

            As Saruman turned and approached the two men, the Orcs wrapped their large arms around their captives in a giant bear hug.

            Aragorn’s breath quickened as the wizard stopped directly in front of him.  He tried to back away, but the Orc held him firmly in place.  Saruman’s lips curled to form an evil smile as he watched his captive struggle.  Very slowly, he raised his palm and placed it on the Ranger’s forehead. 

            Aragorn shut his eyes at the wizard’s touch and focused on his breathing.  He could not allow Saruman to frighten him.  He had to maintain his resolve.

            Almost too quiet to hear, the wizard began to chant, and Aragorn felt his head being pressed against the chest of the Orc.  Though the words were mumbled and slurred together, he recognized them as Quenya.  Aragorn was fluent in many of the languages of Middle-Earth, but the High Tongue was not one of them.  It just wasn’t used often enough.  But living and studying in the House of Elrond had at least given him the opportunity to become familiar with it, though mostly through written text.

            It was impossible to make out everything that was being said, but he was able to pull out a few words.  “Mornië… muina caurerya…” But it was the wizard’s final sentence, which was spoken clearly, that caused Aragorn to worry.  “Si illumë ostimë avathar avaomanya.”

            As the words were spoken, a shadow began to make its way slowly through his mind, turning his blood cold.  It felt as if someone was draining ice cold water through his brain.  Aragorn squeezed his eyes tighter and forced himself to fight against this new enchantment.  The feelings of despair and hopelessness came flooding back to him as the wizard withdrew his hand. 

            Aragorn let out the breath that he’d been holding, and out of the corner of his eye, he could see Rayford struggling once again.

            “Be still,” Aragorn hissed at his companion.  He would have to teach his friend how to recognize the proper time for physical resistance.  Although, Aragorn thought with a mental chuckle, I don’t know if I have learned that lesson either.

            As Aragorn struggled to control his resurfaced feelings of hopelessness, Saruman turned his attention to the unconscious Milena.  “Such a young thing,” Saruman said to no one in particular.

            Aragorn saw Rayford tense again but was able to control himself.  However, his actions did not go unnoticed by the wizard.

            “Do you care for this girl, boy?  She is your kin, is she not?”  The wizard’s tone was mocking and his taunt was not wasted on the young man; a low growl escaped from deep within his throat.

            Seeing that the situation was treading a dangerous line, Aragorn quickly spoke before Rayford could.  “Saruman!  I know what you want from me.”  He swallowed hard before continuing.  “And I may consider what you requested if these two are freed.”

            Saruman’s eyes narrowed, studying him, but Aragorn did not retract his statement.  He hadn’t actually intended to say that, but it was the first thing that came to him.  Besides, he would deal with the possible outcomes later, when he didn’t have to worry about hurting anyone else.

            “We will discuss your options,” the wizard said, “as soon as I believe you are ready.”  He turned back to Milena.  “But first…”  Saruman raised his staff and a bright white light shot out from its tip, hitting the woman square in the chest.

            Her body convulsed as the energy coursed its way through her, and Aragorn was thankful she was not awake to feel its effect.  He shot a quick glance at Rayford, afraid that the young man would completely loose control.  But Rayford had his eyes closed and his head bowed in silent defeat.  He knew there was nothing he could do to help his cousin.  As the bolt of light ended, and her body relaxed, blood could be seen dripping from her nose and staining her clothes.

            Aragorn could feel his anger swelling inside him.  He was angry with Saruman and himself, for letting such a thing happen.  She was little more then a child herself and did not deserve this treatment.  She had talked about so many things that she wanted to do with her life, and now Aragorn was afraid she would be able to complete none of it.

            As the wizard raised his staff once again, Aragorn could not control himself any longer.  “Saruman, stop!  You will kill both the mother and the unborn child!”  Aragorn knew that there was little chance now, but the guilt would eat away at him if he didn’t try.

            Saruman lowered his weapon and laughed, low and menacing.  “Why shouldn’t I make her pay for your mistakes?  Countless others will sacrifice themselves for you, Aragorn, if you continue down this path toward war.  And as for her child,” Saruman said, placing a hand on her midsection, “think of this as the impact your decision will have on the next generation of your Race.  It is you, Aragorn, that is killing any hope of your peoples’ survival.”  He paused.  “I find it interesting though.  Isn’t that what the Elves call you?  Estel?  The name seems hardly appropriate.  What hope should anyone have in you?  If you continue down the path you have chosen, it will be a fool’s hope.  Nothing more.”

            The wizard’s words echoed throughout the small room and then hung in the air like a dense fog.  Was there some truth in his words?  A part of Aragorn’s mind and heart cried that there was.  This was some of what he had struggled with for so long.  Would the price of victory be more devastating then the consequences of surrender?  When was the risk too high?  All the innocent who will suffer…

            Aragorn hung his head as energy flowed from the wizard’s staff once again.  This was it; this was the end.  Milena would die because of his refusal to cooperate with Saruman, and Rayford would be next.

            Aragorn turned his head away for he could no longer watch.  Blood was flowing freely from the young woman’s nose and mouth, and the Ranger hoped the end would come soon, for her sake.

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            Aragorn and Rayford were lead out of the room after fifteen minutes, followed by the body of Milena, and taken back to their old cell.  He sat quietly as Rayford knelt over the body of his cousin, softly speaking to her and brushing away the hair and blood from her face.  Aragorn had briefly examined Milena and confirmed that she had passed.  There was no life left within her.

            The Ranger placed his hand on the young man’s shoulder in silent support.  What was he supposed to say?  That everything would be alright?  It wouldn’t be; more likely than not, Rayford would be dead in a matter of days.  Aragorn could not bring himself to lie to him.

            Luckily, it was Rayford who spoke first.  “Perhaps it is better this way.  This was no place for her.  She couldn’t live like this,” he said, wiping the tears from his eyes.  “Do you think she suffered in the end?”

            Aragorn sighed deeply.  “I do not believe so.  She was unconscious from the beginning,” he answered honestly.  However, his heart told him that Rayford would not be so lucky in his own fate.   “The fault is mine that she’s dead,” Aragorn said shifting his weight so that his head could rest in his arms.  “Perhaps if I had chosen my words more carefully...”  He finished the last part in his mind, then another innocent would not have died.  It doesn’t matter that it was not by my hand.

            Rayford did not agree or disagree with the Ranger.  He merely sat with his head bowed before responding.  “We had both known from the beginning that something like this could happen.  “We knew there was little hope of survival on our own.  But what are we to do, Strider?  I can see it in your eyes that you fear for me and rightly so.  What can we do?” he repeated.

            Aragorn frowned, anger and frustration etching into his features.  After so many long years, he had developed a skill for hiding his emotions.  Why was it that now everyone was able to read him like an open book?

            “I swear to you that I will do everything in my power to free us both,” he said, putting emphasis on the last word.  “All we must do is wait for an opportunity.” 

            After that, little was said between the two men.  Aragorn sat, thinking intently about his options, and Rayford was tending to his cousin’s body.

            Yes, Aragorn thought.  Something must be done and soon.

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            Saruman and Felnorvard stood in the hallway outside of their captives’ cell.  Nothing that happened in Isengard escaped the wizard’s notice.  His spies were everywhere, constantly reporting in.  They were his ears, and Saruman knew everything that was said between the men.  It was time for the next phase of his plan.

            “Bring them to the main room,” he said to Felnorvard.  “But send only two Orcs, and you are to remain here, out of sight.  Let us watch,” the wizard said as he made his way further down the corridor with Felnorvard close behind.

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            The men were startled when two Orcs came rushing into their cell.  Surely they can’t be back for us so soon, Aragorn thought.  Over the past few days, they had left them alone for several hours before continuing their questioning and tormenting.

            The Ranger was surprised that only two creatures entered.  He was weaker, yes but still very capable of handling a couple of adversaries.  Aragorn could feel his heart rate increase.  Something in the back of his mind warned that this was not right.  It was too soon.

            The Orcs hauled the two men to their feet.  Aragorn’s wrists were jerked behind his back, but before they could be bound the other Orc spoke. 

            “There’s no time for that.  They’re wanted now!  They’ll be good gurukû, and do what they’re told.  Move!  Quickly!”

            Much to the Ranger’s surprise, they were both shoved toward the open door.  This was indeed a very interesting development.  Aragorn could see that his young friend was trying to get his attention, and he risked a glance.

            Sure enough, Rayford was staring straight at him, motioning his head.  Aragorn understood what he was trying to say.  With a slight nod, he mouthed the word ‘wait’ before being pushed out into the hallway.  He had to make completely sure that no one else was waiting for them.

            As he looked around, Aragorn noticed that the passage was deserted; there wasn’t a single guard in sight.  This was almost too perfect an opportunity.  One that he could not possibly pass up.

            Aragorn glanced back at Rayford and smiled with a slight nod.  They should go now.  Aragorn would not be able to forgive himself if he led his new friend to his death without a fight.

            The Ranger abruptly stopped, causing the Orc to run into him.  The startled beast was thrown slightly off balance by the impact, and Aragorn was able to swiftly bring his fists around and fell the creature.  Only a few moments slower, Rayford knocked down  his Orc, though not without taking a hit to the jaw first.  Surprise had given them the advantage.

            With their escorts taken care of, Rayford knelt down and seized a weapon from the unconscious Orc.  “We may need these,” he said as he messaged his bruising jaw line.

            Aragorn nodded as he took a dagger for himself.  Then he glanced down the long corridor.  “I do not know the way out of his place,” he said, turning back to Rayford.

            “We’ll try our best.  For now, perhaps we should continue to descend whatever stairway we come to.”

            “And let’s hope we recognize the ground level.  I would not want to become lost in the crypts and vaults.”

            “Neither would I.”

            Hoping their luck would not change, the two men began to sprint down the corridors.  The quicker they could leave the area, the more likely they’d completely disappear.  Isengard was a huge tower and had plenty of places to hide.  But they had to hurry.

            They were running so fast, they didn’t notice Saruman and Felnorvard standing in a room just off the main hallway.

            Felnorvard, however noticed them, and he began to start after the fleeing prisoners.  But the wizard’s hand on his shoulder quickly stilled him.

            “Wait,” Saruman commanded.  “Follow them by way of the back passage; let them think they have a chance.  Follow them down, but circle around the front to meet them.”

            An evil grin spread across the man’s face as he quickly exited through a hidden door in the far wall.  Yes, he thought as he gathered his Orc company to follow him.  Everything is working out perfectly.

TBC

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Mornië… muina caurerya…----- Darkness… his hidden fear…

Si illumë ostimë avathar avaomanya.  ----- Now, always blend the shadows without my voice.

gurukû   ----- Black speech: “mortal man”

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