With Hope and Without Hope

Chapter 32: In the Pit

Merry sat on a crude wooden stool in the dreary makeshift kitchen and stirred a foul-smelling mixture at the fire. He would rather not know the ingredients of the orcs' drink. The one taste he'd had on the march to Isengard told him all he cared to know. Yet here he was, cooking it up for his captors. A waste of good talent in the kitchen.

Hopping off the rickety stool, he went to finish his other regular chore, hauling firewood. The ever-burning fires needed to be fed wood constantly. Struggling with the heavy load, he took the corridor that ran opposite the one he last took. Though darker, he was fairly sure it led to the other end of the same cavern.

Along the path were dim openings he ached to investigate. Having cautiously tested how closely the orcs watched him, Merry had found that orcs were not good at minding. And so now the hobbit took every opportunity to wander in the hopes of finding Legolas and Gimli and, most importantly, finding their escape.

Three doorways here, two on the other side. Most openings seemed to lead into empty darkness, but he would brave the dark and whatever horror lay at the other end. Dumping his burden with a grunt, he began to retrace his path back to the kitchen. Now to investigate.

"There he is! That's the halfling, my servant! See what he's doing? I told him to bring the wood. That's his job, a job I assigned him to, 'cause he's my servant!"

"Since when do you got a servant, Norgry?"

"Since yesterday!"

Merry made an effort to keep his pace steady, though he wanted to run. He did not want Norgry to take more notice of him than he already had.

"Well, the lads ain't gonna like it! You lucky Mauhúr took care of Grishnákh on the march. He might've had something to say about it."

Norgry narrowed his eyes. "Wasn't luck. Just weren't no reason to stop him." He chuckled gruffly. "Let me worry about any rabble that gets it in their head to say something. Just you get back to work! Halfling! Get over here!"

Merry pulled up just as he reached the corridor, his stomach dropping. Reluctantly, he turned to the orc who would be his master. He tried not to think of him as such, but he could not deny that he took orders from Norgry.

"Yes, what would you like?" He bit back the automatic 'sir' he nearly added. He would not give this orc that much.

"Get over here, I said!"

Merry approached the knot of orcs, his desire to continue his investigations beckoning him into the darkness behind him. He halted just out of hands' reach of the orc, but Norgry started to scowl, and so he took the last few steps.

Norgry grabbed him by the collar and dragged him along. "Come on! Why are you so slow?" Merry tried to keep up with the long-legged creature, wondering at their destination.

Soon they were in a cavern deep in the center of the Pit, where Merry had dared not stray. Fires burned within a multitude of forges, lighting the area considerably more than where they had been. Before each forge, orcs worked with heavy hammers, pounding on what sounded like metal, likely soon to be weapons. The center of the large space was open to below, from where Merry heard strange growls and shrieks.

His attention was drawn back when Norgry began laughing as he approached a small group of orcs in one corner. "That's right, Lugdush. This is my halfling. He's my servant!"

Merry's stomach twisted in knots. Showing him off to the other orcs was only going to make them cross. Soon they would start resenting him and that would mean trouble for Merry.

Sure enough, Lugdush narrowed his eyes at the hobbit before returning his glare to Norgry. "So what? You think you're special now?"

"When was the last time you had a servant?" As Norgry said this, he lifted Merry by his collar. Merry felt like a prize Norgry was displaying. He tried not to flail his arms too foolishly and hoped the orc didn't suddenly release him.