Where the Spirit Meets the Bones

Taken

The band of Uruk-hai marched across the grassy plain, with Merry, Pippin and me shackled to the backs of three Uruks. I had awoken a few hours before at day brake, frightened and bewildered. My back and head ached furiously and being carried by the Uruk-Hai didn't help. The rhythm of the ceaseless jogging was juddering through me, and my bones and body felt like they were being splintered apart. My mouth was parched and I was desperate for sustenance. I hadn't seen it, but I discerned a cut on my cheek. The side of my face felt was sore, crusty with blood, dust and dirt.

I wasn't aware of when this transpired as I'd been unconscious, but my hands had been tethered together tightly by rope, and it chafted harshly at my skin. It was almost cutting off my blood, making my hands go cold. I also wasn't conscious of where my bow, quiver and blades were, I was no longer in possession of them. For a brief moment I thought of the dagger in my boot; I didn't know if the Uruk-Hai had confiscated it from me. It was impossible however, an imbecilic thought. My hands were bound and I couldn't take down the entire party of orcs with a small dagger like that. Besides I didn't have the energy to do it. I would have wait until to the precise moment to do anything.

Pippin tried to call to Merry, who was unconscious with a bloody gash on his right brow.
"Merry. Merry!" Exclaimed Pippin worried, but he received no response. Suddenly, a Uruk at the front signalled for the horde of Uruk-Hai to stop. We came to a sudden halt, and it felt satisfying not to be shaken apart for a moment. There seemed to be some action happening at the front between the Uruks and some new orcs, but I was uninterested and kept my attention on the hobbits just ahead of me. Merry's head slumped backward and he looked sickly.
"My friend is sick! He needs water!" Pippin pleaded. "Please..."
"Sick is he? Give him some medicine, boys!" The lead Uruk taunted lightheartedly, and all the other Uruks broke into howls of laughter. At that, another Uruk proceeded to grip Merry's face, forcing him to open his mouth. He poured a revolting brown substance down Merry's throat. I grimaced at the sight.
"Can't take his grog!" Taunted the leader, and all the Uruks guffawed menacingly.
"Stop it!" Beseeched Pippin, clearly irritated and I was hot with rage.
"Leave him alone!" I blurted out without a thought. Their laughter died and the Uruks flaunted their grotesque faces as they all turned and gawked at me.
"Why? You want some?" Their leader questioned me, but I didn't say anything, it seemed pointless to try. In that moment, every part of me wanted to kill him. I wanted to see his head mounted on a spear while the rest of the pack burned in a heap. Their ashes scattered to the wind. Nameless. Forgotten.
"Then keep your mouth shut!" The Uruk spelled out and wagged his finger at me, before he trudged back to the front of the pack.
"What is it? What do you smell?" Said the hideous Uruk in a low grumbling voice.
"Man-flesh." The other Uruk said with a coarse expression as he snuffled the air.
"They've picked up our trail! Let's move!" We we're off again, but with a rapid pace only making the journey more uncomfortable.
"Aragorn!" Pippin uttered quietly to himself, but loud enough for me to hear. I saw a flash image of Legolas in my mind. I hoped he didn't miss me to much. I wanted him to know I was okay, that I wasn't dead. I sighed and found peace of mind in that soon enough we would have our deliverance from these fetid thugs.

Ahead of me, Pippin struggled to reach his Elven barouche with his teeth. He tore it off his cloak and spat it onto the ground. I passed by it as a foot stomped onto the barouche but luckily it remained unbroken and visible on the grass. I longed that Aragorn and the others would spot it and keep following.

Legolas POV

Aragorn was lying down, ear pressed to a boulder-stone, listening for the sound of footfall.
"Their pace has quickened, the must have caught our scent," he pushed himself off the rock and began to run again. I was just behind Aragorn, but looked back for a moment at Gimli who was gasping for air and struggling to keep up.
"Come on, Gimli!" I called out to him.
I felt a pang of hurt in my heart as I thought of Boromir's passing and how Merry and Pippin had been abducted alongside Yavanna. I couldn't help but wonder if either of them had been or would be tortured or even terminated by the Uruks. What if we found their remains along the way? I brushed that thought out of my head. Yavanna was tough. She had spirit like her flaming red hair. She wouldn't let that happen.