Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

All I Have	By : ChaoticReverie Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > Hobbit, The Views: 7202 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit, but all OCs are mine.

Chapter List
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I'm not even going to attempt to put any Black Speech in this - I can only imagine how badly I would butcher it – so when the orcs are speaking said language to one another, I will simply use italics and bold.
Example: "Look at me, I'm talking in Black Speech,"said one orc to another.
Onward!

"Ioreth seems to be doing well."

Lasallin blinked at the unexpected comment, turning to address the speaker. "She's a natural, if not a little impatient. She'll be patrol-ready in no time."
Gram smiled, guiding his horse alongside hers as he remarked, "I don't doubt it; I've seen the way you run her ragged."
Hiding a grin behind her scarf, the young woman nodded. "It takes discipline to wield a sword."
"If she's anything like her cousin, she'll have nothing to worry about."
She flushed at the compliment, trying to ignore how charming she found his smile to be. Gram was a decent looking lad, to be sure, with warm eyes and hair like spun gold. Such a lovely colour - much nicer than the flaxen shade of her own hair. He was strong, certainly, and brave, and loyal. He had the makings of a fine husband.
But Lasallin wasn't ready for that. She longed for the road, for the freedom this life afforded her. She didn't want to settle down in a home and have children yet. Someday, many years from now, she would consider such things, but for today, this is where she belonged.
She chanced a look back at her aspiring suitor, only to find he was no longer looking at her. His gaze was focused in the distance, and she followed it to where spirals of black where winding into the sky.
"Smoke?" she wondered.
"Fire!" Commander Bergil shouted from the front of the line, and all at once their company surged forward, swords drawn and bows at the ready.
Evidence of an attack became more apparent the closer they drew, but as they neared, they could see no movement, hear no cries. The orange lick of flame was absent, only the smoulder of ashes remained.
Bergil ordered them to slow, eyes scouring for signs of an ambush. He found none. "Whoever was here… they're gone now."
A wretched smell hung in the air, growing more and more potent the closer they ventured; a choking, rotting stench, accompanied by the burning musk of smoke. Death.
The sight that awaited them upon entering the village was one that Lasallin would never forget. She'd seen plenty of gore in her life, but this… nothing could have prepared her. Bodies everywhere, littering the ground in great, bloody masses. The villagers had not just been murdered, they had been butchered. Beheaded, torn apart, mutilated. Men, women, children… none were spared. Houses were decimated - burned and ransacked.
"We're too late," one of the boys muttered, horror stricken. His face was as pale as a sheet.
Commander Bergil grimaced, dark eyes narrowing in distaste. "Split up; see if you can find any survivors."
Manoeuvring her horse between the heaps of bodies, Lasallin turned down a smaller road, her ears straining to pick up on any distinct sounds; a cry, a cough, anything. Aside from the odd crackle of dying embers she heard nothing.
"Over here!" another guard called.
Turning toward his voice, she urged her steed into a canter, winding through alleys and side-streets until she emerged on what appeared to be the village courtyard. The smell here was so bad it made her eyes water, the central walkway wet with blood and excrements. One of the lads had dismounted, and was standing next to a mangled body. He had a handkerchief pressed firmly to his mouth.
She slid from her mare's back, wading through the mess of innards and other secretions, grimacing when great swarms of flies were stirred by her passing. Stepping up alongside him, her eyes widened at the sight of the body. Huge chunks ripped from the torso - skin torn, meat rent, bone crushed. This… was not the work of a bandit. It looked as though…
"He was eaten," Bergil whispered in disgust, his dark utterance mirroring their thoughts.
Lasallin turned from the corpse, eyes drifting over the bodies that littered the square. Similar wounds could be found on every one of them. "They all were."
"Tracks!" Gram called from astride his horse, pointing to the road near the edge of the courtyard.
She followed many of the others to the aforementioned spot, eyes narrowing as she caught sight of a paw print.
"Wolves?" another guard asked.
The pale-haired swordswoman knelt next to a print, frowning as she splayed her hand out above it, measuring the size. It was far too large to belong to a wolf, though it was without a doubt canine. Massive paws, sheering fangs… only one creature came to mind. She'd never actually seen one; she'd only heard stories of them from her father. Great, vicious beasts with jaws so big they could bite a man in two.
"Not wolves; wargs," she guessed.
"Wargs? Is it possible?" Gram repeated, eyes darting along the shadowed alleyways.
As the others speculated amongst themselves, she continued on down the road, following the tracks. There were several sets, she noted, along with a few other, notably humanoid pairs. From what her father had told her, where wargs were involved, one was also likely to find orcs.
Now, orcs she had dealt with on occasion, but never anything of this magnitude. This lot seemed far more organised than the scavenging stragglers she'd picked off from time to time. Lasallin continued to follow the trail, which veered from the main road and went off into a field. She could see a multitude of others carving through the long grass as well, all of which funnelled into a single, larger path that lead…
Panic flaring in her chest as she realized the direction they were heading, she turned and ran back to the others, exclaiming urgently, "They're going South, through the forest!"
Bergil cursed, pulling his horse's reigns sharply to the side as he urged the stallion forward. "Quickly! We must head them off!"
She swerved through the cluster of men and horses, leaping up onto her own mare and nudging her into motion. The silence of the ruined village was filled with the thundering of hooves on stone, their mounts rasping deeply as they pushed them as fast as they could run. It had taken them the better part of a day to reach the village at a leisurely rate, stopping for breaks, but if they could keep this pace they would likely arrive just after sunset.
Lasallin could hardly breathe as she imagined those monsters setting upon their town. The few guards that had remained would be overtaken within minutes, unprepared for an attack of that scale. Her mother, her aunt… her cousin.
She shook her head, clearing her mind of the horrific images that accompanied those thoughts. It wouldn't come to that. They would make it in time; they had to!

Ioreth crouched low, watching the rabbit graze. Long ears twitched this way and that, whiskers trembling as it chewed, and she slid another foot closer, nocking her arrow carefully as she moved. Keeping her breath quiet and even, she pulled the string taut, lining up her shot…

Then, without warning, the little creature fled, and she stared after it with a look of bewilderment. She frowned, certain she hadn't made a sound.
A low, rasping voice caught her attention, and she plastered herself swiftly against the forest floor as the sounds drew nearer. There were… two at least, both male, from what she could hear, though she didn't understand the language. She peered up through the brambles, squinting into the wood. It was difficult to see this late in the evening, darkness cloaking much of the forest.
Right away she spotted the eyes, dozens of them, glowing through the trees. A great, hulking shape took form amid the shadows, and then another, and another. She clasped a hand over her mouth to withhold a scream as the first creature came into view. It was gruesome, its head abnormally large in comparison to its streamline body. The brownish, matted fur on its face was dappled with a glistening redness, long, ragged strips of what looked to be flesh dangling from massive teeth.
Their riders were no less horrifying, with their mangled features and brutish weapons.
She had to warn the townsfolk. Turning, she slid through the underbrush as quietly as she was able, trying with everything in her to control the trembling of her limbs and the raggedness of her breath. When she was sure she was far enough that they wouldn't immediately hear her, she took off at a sprint, gasping as tears pricked her eyes.
'Where are you, Las?'

A deep growl rumbled through his warg's chest, and Yazneg watched as the beast lifted its muzzle to scent the air. "Smell something, do you?"

His mount snarled, prowling toward a cluster of sparse looking bushes. Behind them, the grass was compressed, the indentation freshly made. The orc snickered. "Let the human flee. The warning will come far too late."

I'm sure some of you are wondering where Azog is. I assure you, he's in this story; you simply have to be patient. ;)

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All I Have