But who was she trying to fool? Of course he already knew, or at least strongly suspected it. And if he didn't before, well, now he most certainly did.

"Thranduil doesn't want his son to be alone with me," she said, keeping her voice down.

That had been a pointless precaution, she could see Nodir and Bronedir's pointy ears pricking up almost visibly. Only the orc ambled on like nothing had happened.

Darn eavesdropping elves.

"Why not?"

"Because he would rather not have me as a daughter-in-law."

"So you are back together then." He sounded disappointed.

"Yes." She looked at her feet.

"I thought... Well, I mean, lately..." He demurely broke off.

"Thranduil talked us out of it at first but it was not so easy to just... stop."

They walked on in silence. The path spiraled upwards, and for the first time she felt an ounce of curiosity about the orc farm. They had said they didn't dare to leave the cave, then how could they produce vegetables? And where did the meat and fish come from?

"Thranduil will come around," said Galion eventually. "He never refuses his son anything he truly wants, at least not in the long run."

"You think so?" She felt a flutter of hope.

"Legolas was so spoiled as an elfling." He snorted, then turned serious again. "After his mother's demise the king had only him."

Wynne wondered how and when she had died but didn't want to ask. That was for Legolas to tell.

"So, did you like the machine?" She changed the topic, hoping to evade any more embarrassing questions about her love life.

"Nay. I dare say it could have its uses, this steam power, but it emitted such foul smelling fumes. That is something I have found hard to accustom myself to here – the black smoke from the coal fires and oil lanterns."

"I agree. Wood fires are nicer."

"Here we are now," Goltur said. "I will wait outside, it's too bright for my liking in there."

They curiously went through a doorway into a vast cave, with rows upon rows of growing vegetables. A dazzling light came from the ceiling, so sharp Wynne had to avert her eyes.

"How?" Nodir smiled widely and walked along a line of young potato sprouts, stroking them in passing. "It is almost like sunshine."

"Dvago will explain," came the orc's voice from the doorway. "He's our chief farmer."

A young uruk-hai who had been binding up beanstalks came to meet them, wiping his hands on a linen cloth. He was literally a copy of Nugu, but much younger, with only a shade of thin whiskers on his upper lip and none on his chin. And he was slimmer, but equally tall, almost the same height as an elf. Were the two related?

"This cave is right under the top of the hill – the rocky part above the entrance, you know?" They nodded. "When the sun shines on the cliff, we lead it in through silver channels. Like mirrors you know. To make the light stronger."

"Clever! But cannot the openings be discovered on the outside?" asked Bronedir.

"They are just cracks, really. You could walk on top of them and hardly see a thing," he explained proudly.

"Young Dvago designed it himself," said Goltur from the door. "Very bright young man, is he."

"Nah." He beamed almost like the ceiling. "It wasn't hard once I got the idea."

Wynne strolled among the vegetable beds. They even grew rye and oats, and some sort of beet she didn't recognize. Then she came to an adjoining area where a pungent smell hinted this was where the privies were emptied.

"I see you've noticed the dung room." Dvago had followed her. "We store the poo there for several months, and then put it on the soil and everything grows like shit!" He sniggered when he realized what he had said. "Like shit, haha."

Wynne smiled politely.

"Anyway, the pee is used directly, just mix it with water and it's perfect. That's why we separate it in the loos."

"I see, yes I wondered about that."

"It was my idea, because when we mixed all together it got sloppy and strong and nothing grew in it."

"Very interesting. So, how old are you then?" Wynne tried to steer the conversation away from excrement.

"Thirteen. But tall for my age, in case you thought I looked older?"

She didn't, and smiled noncommittally.

"Maybe you want to see the animals?" he asked.

"Oh, you have those too?"

"Sure! After me." He led them into a third room, almost tropically hot. Something in there was chirping in a familiar way but Wynne couldn't quite pinpoint where she had heard it before.

Dvago indicated a large pool on the floor with an abundance of dark shapes silently moving about. "Here's the fish farm. They eat scraps from the crops and our leftovers so it's very easy to grow them, and the dirty water is good for fertilizing too."

"Very well thought up," said Nodir approvingly.

"Yeah it is, isn't it? And now here is where we get the meat." The gangly boy indicated a huge stack of hamper boxes behind the pool. He opened one to show its contents and Wynne was not the only one to shrink back, shocked to learn what they had been eating all this time as "meat".

"Um... crickets?" she asked. Now she recognized the sound.

"Yup! And over here are the maggots, I can get–"

"That will not be necessary, thank you," said Galion smoothly.

"Alright. We should be heading back now anyway. Almost time for dinner!"

"I think I just lost my appetite," mumbled Nodir.


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A/N:

Clever orcs, way ahead of their time, and not only by inventing the steam engine haha (I agree with Galion it's probably a bad idea, but I guess they will find that out in a few centuries or so). Scientists believe that in the future we're all going to eat more bugs and less cows, to save the climate.


Image Credits:

Public domain (Wikimedia commons) by takeaway, source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cricket_(insect)#/media/File:Chingrit_thot.jpg 

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