Come to Morning Through The Shadows

Darkness and Light

"Mist and shadow.

Cloud and shade.

All shall fade

All shall fade."-J.R.R. Tolkien

Chapter 29:

The room was too dark for her to see and she tasted the horrid metallic residue of the blood on her lips, mingling with the dust the coated the air.

Not that it would have mattered if she could see, she supposed, for the smell that hung like a thick blanket, was enough to churn Lyla's stomach. That and the knot she could feel forming on the back of her head where the foul creature with the club had conked her tender flesh didn't help things. Nor did it quell the biting cold of the stone beneath her as she laid, bound, in the dank and dampness of the room, listening to the numerous trickles of water as they struck against rock and splashed against her face.

Of course, the blow had not been rendered forcefully enough to send her reeling into unconsciousness, mind you, but hard enough to send stars before her eyes and a headache forming at the base of her skull.

And she hated headaches.

This whole business with her adversaries focusing on hitting her on the head was becoming rather tiresome and infuriating by Lyla's estimation.

She grunted lowly and blinked a few times to clear her senses as best she could and tried to ignore the way the enemies chortled in the distant darkness—more than likely down a long hallway she supposed. Though whether their sneering laughter was at her expense, she was not sure.

She hoped not. That wouldn't assist in her ability to escape.

Perhaps they were assured that she wouldn't be alert or conscious yet? She'd certainly made a spectacle of making sure that she played the part of the unconscious victim, slowing her breathing (though her heart pounded heavily in her ears), and willing her stiff muscles to loosen, once the snarling creature had lobbed his club at her. All of this making her appear much more the victim of their clubs rather than the stubborn and annoyed hobbit she really was.

And she'd certainly given a good fight trying to escape from the orcs before they'd managed to lasso her back into their hold.

She'd cast aside her fear of the giant spider and skittered into the cave, that was surrounded by webbing, weaving between large rock pillars, dodging the pincer grasp of the spider as well as trying to avoid the chortling of the orcs as they jeered at her and grunted in annoyance at her evasiveness.

She'd run into Gollum too, who seemed docile enough for the moment to willingly follow her command to run and remain quiet.

But the gangly creature had not been fast enough to thwart Lyla's shove as he'd attempted to throw the hobbit towards the spider's grip.

Instead of her getting stung, however, it had been him. Guiltily, Lyla had watched with horror, as Gollum's already pale face paled even more and his large blue eyes widened in anguish, a low groan escaping his lips as white foam began to seep from his nostrils and mouth.

The creature's movements stilled, his fingers twitching, legs giving out on him as Lyla stepped backwards, watching the way the spider slowly stepped confidently forward.

The hobbit's ears had perked at the sound of orcs bearing down on them. Dread filled her at the reality that if they caught her then the ring would be lost. If they realized she had the One Ring, there'd be no saving her friends and Middle Earth. All would be for naught.

Lyla had watched, frozen, as a long, hairy leg reached forward, poking and prodding Gollum's prone form.

"Careful now!" She recalled the orcs speaking, their guttural tongue had made her cringe. "This is Sherlob's lair. If she catches you, she'll pince you good. Fresh meat for her fat belly!"