Gleina na Agar: LOTR story (Reader)

Uruk-Hai Captives

You sneered as you spat out dirt and grass from your tumble against the earth. That was the ninth time this had happened in two days! Your staff had been tied behind your back and through your arms. It made it incredibly difficult to do any task, and you were already dizzy! You had lost at least a pint of blood from that arrow in your thigh before you were able to put a tourniquet on. The Uruk-hai were not intent on fixing your problem anytime soon, and to be honest if they tried you would've killed them! You were already emotionally unstable, and any sort of action from them could blow your top!

It had turned out you weren't the only one who suffered at the hands of Uruk-hai. Both Merry and Pippin had been taken captive, the reason why still remained unsolved, as they tried desperately to defend Boromir... His memory still lingered with you, and would until the end of time. The night you had woken after the battle, you wept for him, knowing without a doubt that he had perished at the hands of your captors. It infuriated you so much that you almost sliced a few throats that night if it hadn't been for them stealing Bellhûn! The memory of Boromir grew a lump in your throat, drawing a tear to trail over your cheek.

Their leader, Ugluk, leaned over you with a mocking snarl, "Aw, which one is it, Gruiuk?*" He knelt beside you, making your nose crinkle at the smell of carrion, "The Dunedain? Or that little elf-prince!"

"Naw... It's that yellow-bellied Gondor filth! Squealing like a pig in his last hour as our black arrows dug into his heart!" A sickly looking uruk mocked his memory in a deep throated laugh.

His words infuriated you! No one would dare mock the existence of a man who's bravery outnumbered the ranks of Mordor! "You rotten cur!" You scrambled to your knees in anger, "Ashdautas Vrasubatlat!"* You hissed, the bile dripping from your voice.

The only reason your knew the insult was because of those endless nights listening to Sauron's voice in Black Speech. Either way, it surprised them, "Would you listen to that, boys!" The uruk chuckled, "She's a regular, Angijak!"*

That same uruk-hai that had insulted Boromir came up to you, towering over your figure, "Pfft... You can smell the Lul Gijak-Ishi!"* He threw his hand back to strike your cheek, "Kurv!"*

The back of his hand was plated in rusted metal, making the hit sting and scrap against your cheek, drawing thin lines of blood as you tumbled once again to the ground. Your vulnerability was enticing, giving the beasts the idea to kick in your body until it broke under the steel toes! You couldn't defend yourself! Your stomach and ribs were open to a world of abuse, even as you pulled your knees up in the fetal position.

The two hobbits who had been taken captive along with you, were bound upon the back of the mutant filth. Merry was unconscious, a deep gash on his right brow. Pippin's dull eyes filled with worry for his friends, unable to do anything but yell at the monsters as they pounded you, "Oi! Stop it!"

His cries went unnoticed as they mocked and scorned you. Every kick grew harder, bruising and drawing blood through your clothes until the word grew hazy. One sharp foot made contact with your arrow wound on your thigh, sending waves of pain through your body, making you scream as tears began to form.

Yelling at the top of his lungs trying to get them to stop, Pippin suddenly got an idea that hopefully would work, and it was the truth, "My friend is sick! He needs water. Please!" Let it never be said that Pippin wasn't smart, because it worked.

His voice was enough to distract them from bashing in your ribs to turn and growl at him, "Sick, is he? Give him some medicine, boys!"

With a harsh chuckle, an uruk-hai shoved the end of a flask into Merry's mouth. The foul taste quickly woke him up as he began to choke on the drowning amount given him. A thick dark liquid spilling form the corners of his mouth. Pippin gritted his teeth in anger, "Stop it!"