~ The story behind the baby orcs is revealed and the company gets to meet their father. ~
20. Tiny Orcs
"What on Arda...!" Bronedir sounded aghast.
"Orclings? You keep orclings? Whatever for?" Nodir's eyes had almost popped out of their sockets.
"They are my sons." The woman crossed her arms defiantly.
"An abomination!" Thranduil looked absolutely horrified.
Wynne shuddered and the familiar nausea came over her. Just the other day she had thought about this, about what would have happened if the orc had forced himself on her that time. And here this woman had experienced exactly that! Twice, too. But why ever had she kept the monster's spawn?
The elves shifted their stance, aiming their bows at the orclings.
"No!" The woman took a quick step in front of them again. "Please don't hurt my children."
"Stand aside," Thranduil demanded. "We cannot allow such vile beings to live."
"They are only babies. They won't harm anyone. They never will. We teach them right and wrong." The woman's dark voice broke into a sob. "Please."
"We?"
"My husband and I."
"And where is your husband?"
"Away hunting. I expected him back any moment. But... With you here... He'll probably stay away."
Wynne got a horrible suspicion when she heard that, and apparently the elves did as well.
"Your 'husband'... Am I to presume he is, in fact, an orc? The sire of the orclings?"
"Yes." The defiant look was back in the woman's stance. "Half-orc, actually."
"Excuse me if I repeat myself, but just to make this absolutely clear... You are married to a half-orc and have given birth to his offspring?"
"I am and I have."
"And you did this voluntarily?"
"Yes. I love him. We love each other. He's not like normal orcs."
"Astounding. I never heard of anything like it." Thranduil turned to the others, looking bewildered. "We have to get rid of them anyway." But he didn't sound altogether sure. There almost was a question in his voice.
"Aye," the others agreed, but they too sounded hesitant.
"Then you must kill me first." New tears spilled from the woman's eyes.
Wynne was quite as confused as Thranduil. How could a woman be in love with an orc and mate with it of free will? Again she thought of Lug. To be forced to kiss those black lips, with the clutter of deformed teeth, and his gnarled hands touching her breast... Ugh! It was impossible to understand.
But yet... Who was she to judge someone's feelings?
One of the orclings peeked out from behind his mother's leg now, thumb still in mouth. His skin was grayish and his big ears pointed, but his soft curly hair and brown eyes struck Wynne as decidedly human. He had chubby cheeks and a pink button nose.
As babies went, this one was actually rather cute.
She tried to picture the elves shooting him and immediately felt that to be wrong. He was so small and helpless.
"Must you really kill them?" she asked.
"They will grow up to be dangerous uruk-hai. We set out to rid these lands of all monsters; we cannot exempt two merely because of their size."
"But she said she teaches them to be good. Maybe they'll never be dangerous."
"That's right," exclaimed the woman. "They will be good. I promise."
"That might actually be a possible outcome", Legolas mused. "All other orcs and uruk-hai were raised by Sauron, and some by Saruman after he turned evil. These orclings could be brought up differently."
"Yes they will! We love them. We do anything for our sons."
"Orcs are evil in their nature; it has nothing to do with upbringing," Thranduil objected.
"How would you know?"
"Well..." He hesitated. "I guess I couldn't know that, but–"
"Not all are evil; Nugu is good," the woman cut in. "And he isn't the only one. When Saruman was in power my husband and his friends were slaves, but they are free now. And they decided they wanted nothing more of that kind of life."
"I wish to speak to your husband," said Thranduil. "Call him here."
"You will kill him."
"I will decide that after I have spoken with him. Now, tell him to come."
"I can't risk it." The woman's lip trembled.
"Would you rather we kill the orclings instead? Call him."
"That's not fair. You can't make me choose between them like that," she sobbed.
"I'm here." A deep voice from behind made them turn around in surprise.
A tall orc stood there, unarmed, and just like his wife he had his palms upturned. "Run Sidra! Now," he suddenly bellowed.
When the startled elves turned back again the woman had grabbed one orcling under each arm and bolted, but Wynne knew the elves could easily hit her at a distance.
"Don't shoot," she cried, grabbing hold of Legolas' arm.
"I shall not." He turned to Nordir and Bronedir. "Hold your arrows."
"It is not your place to give orders," snapped Thranduil.
"We can easily catch the woman later, Ada. Let us interrogate the orc first."
"Very well, then."
The half-orc remained calmly standing before them, seemingly unafraid. He had a proud bearing, held his head high and met their stares with an impassive gaze in his dark eyes.
"You are an uruk-hai," Thranduil stated.
"They call us that." His accent was stronger than the woman's.
When he spoke, Wynne could see the pointed fangs so typical of his race, but the rest of his teeth were normal. On the whole, he looked much more human than a pure orc, although some of that difference might be accounted to the fact that his face and hands were clean, his long, raven hair properly combed and his worn clothes devoid of all the strange pieces of metal, random bones and scraps of rotten fur that other orcs seemed so fond of. He lacked their disgusting odor entirely.
Apart from the physical traits, there were other, more subtle differences. He just didn't behave like an orc. For one thing, a such would have bared its teeth at them and tried to bite their throats as soon as it set eyes on them.
"How come you wed a human?" Thranduil asked.
"We met. We made friends. And then we just felt like it, I guess." He shrugged.
This no longer appeared so strange to Wynne. There was nothing threatening or ugly in his appearance, except for a few battle scars that likely had been there since he was part of Saruman's army.
"The woman said you abandoned your earlier life."
"Yes."
"Well, and did you?"
"Yes."
"Why?" Thranduil drew his eyebrows together, obviously annoyed by the short, uncommunicative answers.
"Because I hated it. And I hated Saruman." When he said the name it sounded like a snarl.
Wynne wondered what the wizard had done to make the uruk-hai despise him so much.
"I see you kept one weapon at least." Thranduil nodded at a scabbard in the half-orc's belt.
"A hunting dagger. Since I left Isengard, I've never used it on anything but animals." He paused. "Actually, I did use it once, when an orc threatened my wife. I had to scare him, but I didn't kill him. I will never kill again."
This was the longest sentence he had spoken so far and he sounded earnest. There was a certain look in his face when he mentioned killing; a grimace of disgust, self loathing even.
"Hm. So you say." Thranduil still seemed suspicious.
"We should discuss this between ourselves before making a decision," Legolas suggested.
Thranduil nodded agreement and they drew back a few yards, still with their bows aimed at the uruk-hai. The latter stood straight, his muscular arms crossed over his chest, calmly awaiting the Elvenking's judgment.
A/N:
What do you think Thranduil should do, kill the uruk-hai and his babies or allow them to live? Can orclings be raised to become good people?
Image Credits:
Public domain (Pikrepo), source: https://www.pikrepo.com/frncu/grayscale-photo-of-girl-doing-thumb-suck