From The Inside

01

A year; that is how long it had been since first being locked away and caged in the darkness. There was very little light down here. All the light that was here did, was illuminate the smallest part of the darkness and make the even darker brickwork of the walls visible. Shadows danced from the torchlight, skimming and fleeting over any recesses in the brickwork. Alcoves seemed all the more darker from the lack of proper lighting. The little lighting which was present though was enough to light the path in front of the cage. This cage wasn't singular, in fact there were many lining the way of this path, a staircase could just vaguely be seen through the gloom, and this just led to elsewhere unknown.

Those cages were now empty and void of life. A year. It had been a year since Beorn had last caught sight of any of his kin. He was alone. Down in the dark, leaning against the wall behind him staring at the thick heavy bars before him. He had tried to break them down. As both man and bear, only to fail. No matter what, they wouldn't budge. And if he was caught trying to escape, or was caught making too much noise, he'd suffer beatings from underling orcs or Azog himself.

Azog, the mere thought of the Pale Orc caused Beorn to let out a low rumbling growl and fist his hands. This action if anything caused the metallic cuffs which were around his wrists to tighten from the sudden muscle straining beneath them. Shutting his eyes, he leaned his head back, suddenly his eyes snapped open and he sat up alert. There was a noise. A particular noise. A howl to be exact. Not a warg, Beorn was all too aware of the howls which came from those horrible beasts. They pitched highly, like a whine almost. No, this was something else entirely.

He was well aware that he and his kin were not the only skin-changers which inhabited the mountains. Wolves. Not the kind which were under Azog's charge. These had rarely been spotted, they tended to keep to themselves. Perhaps on the rare occasion there was a flash of either silver or greying fur and that was it. That and the communicating howls they'd echo out to each other. That was all there was to know that they were there, and that they existed. They had been hunted too it seemed. He couldn't help but ponder over how many of their numbers had been taken down by the orcs.

That was the first time he had heard the wolf, and it certainly wasn't the last time. Over a small period of time there were numerous times where he'd hear it growling lowly, snarl and bark. He never saw the unfortunate creature. Not for many, many months. But even then he didn't expect to see the suddenly bounding creature running along the darkened corridor in front of his cell. Dark, perhaps black in colour. It bounded and skidded along the corridor. Only turning to bite at something which had become too close for comfort.

Dropping the form from its jaws, it turned and leaped away. Agile and quick, it made its way for the stairs. So close, so close to freedom that when an orc suddenly launched itself onto the wolf's back, it gave a shriek and a snarl while trying to turn its head over its shoulder to latch onto the unwanted figure. The orc seemed to have very little trouble clutching onto the dark fur with grubby sharp nailed fingers. The wolf, after all, was only marginally smaller than the wargs which they used for steeds.

With a sigh, the wolf bucked upwards uprooting the unwanted passenger. With such efficiency the wolf spared one look at the orc and bounded off again. It only came to a stop when it ran up the stairs and got kicked backwards by a boot. Yelping it skidding along the floor, it hit against the wall and laid motionless then, and only giving the smallest of twitches as it was picked up by the scruff of its neck and carried off by Azog himself. He seemed to get great pleasure out of clutching on tighter than he needed to. It wasn't enough to have kicked the creature down the stairs, now he was practically chocking it.

Beorn sat in silence and listened to the sounds of whipping. There were screams, screams from a person, not an animal. He looked up when he realised that they were female screams. It seemed that no sooner had she been taken away and thrown back into her cell had she changed back to her human form. The sounds lasted perhaps a few moments more before Azog appeared, cast him a smug look which showed off his sharp teeth before he disappeared. Being a personal punching bag was an ill fate to be lumbered with.