Totally Normal (A Hobbit story)

No I Do NOT Want to Mud Wrestle a Bear at Three in the Afternoon

Two weeks. It had only been two weeks. But they were the most painful two weeks I had felt in a very long time.

Azog continued his pursuit in the company, drawing closer every day.

They took great pleasure in torturing me constantly. I wore a Titanium cuff on my wrist at all time to extinguish my abilities, therefore my true form remained unconcealed.

The cuff burned my skin unendingly leaving an unfading red circle were the cuff rested. Sometimes it was difficult not to scream or at least groan in pain from the cuff, but I would give Azog no such pleasure. I was however grateful it was only a cuff.

My father was forced to wear a muzzle before he was killed. He bravely fought back after my little brother died, but it was in vain...

The hardest time was at night though. Every night when they set up camp was the prime time to hurt me. They would beat me, kick me, and chain me up like a dog. They didn't even treat their own dogs so horrid.

On the rarest night when I was given something to eat, it would mostly be the tiny scraps that clung to the bones even the Wargs would not eat.

I did not fight back though, how could I fight back? I had been taken by the very creatures who wiped out my entire race, and would very likely die by the hand of their leader. I freely decided not to fight back. I guess the self-preservation instinct told me I would suffer worse if I tried.

If anyone from the Company were to see me now, no doubt I would be unrecognizable. Not just physically by my appearance; but pretty much everything else. Around them, I tried to act more strong, confident, and free-thinking, but none of those qualities dared appear anymore. I was trapped in a brainwashed shell with every ounce of fight in me drained away like rain in a river.

I did sleep though, but I had to be very cautious when I slept. I did not dare sleep during the day; since even the first day Azog had me riding with him on his white Warg. I only slept at night when the Orcs chose to sleep, and were too bored to torment me at that time, and even then I always had to wake up before them, or they would beat me awake.

I think the only thing that kept my will from breaking was the thought of the Company. I had hope with every time we rested, they kept running, making our considerable gain lessen and lessen.

I hoped they were safe; I especially hoped he was safe. My thoughts always seemed to dwindle on the hobbit that held my heart. Until recently I was convinced my heart could not be stolen, but he did.

I wondered how often he thought of me.

Bilbo's POV

Two weeks we've been running. Two weeks ago Tanya was taken. It was sort of an unspoken rule not to talk about it though. We all knew she was suffering. I didn't want to imagine the things they were doing to her. Out of all of us though, Gandalf seemed the most affected.

He always had this look of forlorn lostness. He didn't speak much, but when he did it was authorizing and cold. It made sense he would react as such though; he knew Tanya longer than any of us.

On the second day Ori and Dori had were heard gossiping about how they wondered about her tortured state, wondering if it was their faults.

When Gandalf heard them, he had muttered that history was repeating itself.

I knew she once had a family, she told us about her parents and siblings. She also told us they had died when she was young, yet refused to reveal how.

Unfortunately, Gandalf had revealed the circumstances the night she was taken.

I understood now why she was so afraid of Azog and orcs in general.