Shadow of Light (Uruk-Hai x She-Elf)

Zagalzag

Ghash had sat in silence for some time. He still didn't know how long, but he knew it had been a while. The guards that watched him traded out now and again, but there was always someone there, just silently watching him. He'd been hungry and tired, but now he was simply tired. In his experience, after a few days of no food, you stop feeling hungry for a while. He supposed that should give him a basis to gauge by. Regardless of how badly he needed to eat and drink, he wasn't going to ask, he would just wait.

He then heard as footsteps approached. Ignoring the steps which told him little, he recognized the smell of the man who had come to him before. The man stared at him wordlessly. Seeming to be thinking. Ghash was trying to gauge whether the look meant he would die or not, but when he said nothing, he grew suspicious. Finally, he said a simple, "You're a soldier?.." after a moment, Ghash nodded. "No real information, nothing really useful to say, but that was never what you offered was it?" he continued. Ghash remained silent, unsure what there was for him to say. The man then turned from him and whistled, summoning two other guards to appear. "Bring him." he said before turning away. The men entered the cell, their eyes fixed on him as they harshly led him by his bound arms. He followed freely, half curious and half suspicious what this meant for him. 

They led him up stairs, through stone corridors, to a door that led him to what he presumed was the outside, and that is where they stopped. Aragorn stepped out, closing the door. "Háma, how many men are free at the moment?" he asked the man that stood waiting in the training yard.

"Um, thirty, I can trade them for others later." he said.

"Good, that's a good start." Said Aragorn. "Get them out here." he said.

"Yes, Sir. But are you sure this will help us?" asked Háma.

"No, but if we're careful, it won't hurt." he replied. Háma nodded then turned, calling the men to him. They gathered round in a semi-circle, at attention, preparing for standard sparring practice. "Men," began Aragorn, "These are desperate times. Desperate times call for desperate measures. We won't be training you this time. Instead, I have a prisoner. This prisoner is a servant of Saruman and the dark lord. I want you to spar with him, and learn how to fight him." at this the men turned to one another, muttering their surprise and concerns. "Now I don't want any of you killing him. The king feels he may be useful further. That being said, he is unreliable and potentially dangerous. If needs be, defend yourself. Understood?" he said. The men whispered to each other but gave no argument. Aragorn then turned and walked back through the door.

Glaring at Ghash, he spoke low and clear. "This is your one chance. Make one wrong move, and I will kill you myself." Ghash met his gaze but said nothing. Aragorn nodded for the men to take him. The door opened and they pulled him out. Ghash immediately closed his eyes, recoiling from the light. His race hated the sun to start with, and he hadn't been in light for some time. The men, upon seeing him, gasped and whispered warily to each other, watching him like a wild animal barely tethered. Ghash had to open his eyes to watch his footing as the guards on either side of him dragged him forward.

With a final harsh shove, the guards left him in the center of all the peering eyes. All was silent, as everyone watched him, waiting to see if he would suddenly attack. Ghash stood, hunched, glaring through the light at each man that peered at him. Slowly his eyes recovered, and he began to turn, looking around himself. Behind him stood Aragorn and four other men, all waiting to put him down. And ahead of him stood a long row of men in equal anticipation. Ok, what was he meant to do first? Well, he wasn't going to do anything bound like a rabid dog.

He turned to Aragorn, who was watching him curiously. He held out his bound hands, wordlessly making his recommendation. Hesitantly, Aragorn approached him with the keys, unlocking the shackles, and untying the ropes. The rest of the men looked to Aragorn as if he had lost his mind, but said nothing. Ghash rubbed his raw and bloodied wrists, flexing his fingers and stretching his arms. He stood to his full height, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck. He was in rough shape, but the newly acquired mobility wasn't to be sniffed at.