"The Shadow that bred them can only mock, it cannot make real new things of its own. I don't think it gave life to the Orcs, it only ruined them and twisted them." - The Return of the King
The shadowed figure watched the Orcs scrabbling up her hill from the lip of her comfortably festooned cave. Their warbled speech grated gleefully on the stale summer wind heralding their arrival far before her yellowed eyes could pick them out of the surrounding wood.
With the coming dawn's flavour in the air, the cave's resident was far more interested in sleeping than hosting the impending hoard but their adoration was a useful device and they selfishly vied for her attentions not imagining that she would prefer to be alone.
Of the few scarce luxuries she enjoyed, solitude was her most precious commodity and she guarded it as a mother would her own offspring. These interruptions, however necessary they were, annoyed her.
Urn-ga sighed although it went unnoticed, as there was no other to hear, and detached herself from the shadows so they could find her. Though she knew them to be her own kind, they were of very little use to her beyond the offerings of meat and leathers lovingly handed over in thanks. Those were useful, particularly in the winter season, though she saw it more as her due than gifts.
Urn-ga lifted her flat nose and inhaled the night air. Her keen sense of smell far outshone that of poor eyesight and she could easily make out the scent of the wounded. Orcish blood was not subtle or delicate in scent.
Shaking her head, she exhaled a breath of frustration. Foolish males, always damaging themselves through displays of bravado or folly and often-times, both – now she would be awake most of the morning binding their hurts and brewing her potions. And because Orcs loathed the sunlight that so easily scorched and dried scaly skin, they would be lolling about her front chamber for the day as well.
Wonderful. The perfect beginning to a long, hot day.
Most of them hadn't the sense to realize that many Orcs coming to a small, confined cave was neither wise nor comfortable. Responsibility for this downright stupidity stemmed from the fact that they were h'urk'lai or Orc-born and that made them particularly unintelligent. Only the Uruk-hai and a few of the first "born" smaller Orcs like herself maintained reasoning and free thinking – the rest were cattle.
"We bring gift!" the first of the undistinguishable hoard announced proudly, gasping for his breath after such a steep climb. Bulky and clad in the leather and pounded metal of a foot-soldier, he smelt utterly foul. Urn-ga shuddered slightly. "Gift for you!"
"I assumed it would be for me as it is a difficult journey to make bearing a gift for another," Urn-ga responded flatly, reassured once again that her self-exile was the only logical means to maintain sanity. To be surrounded by such mindless creatures would have driven her to madness moons before, she knew.
Her sarcasm, lost completely on the witless creature, was more for her own benefit. The dull eyes of the herald gazed at her adoringly, ignorant to her disdain. "For Urn-ga!" He assured her pointedly. "Good meat. Best meat."
"Meat?" Her curiosity was piqued, her store running short in the weeks since her last visitor had plied her with the hind-quarters of a deer. Urn-ga craned her neck around the eager male for a better look. Sniffing, she could clearly pick up the acidic taint of a blood unlike that of Orc mingled with their own. Excellent.
"Urn-ga pleased?" the male inquired eagerly, waving his scaly arm at the bundle being drug over the sharp rocks by three of his companions, dark and indiscernible by the dim light. He drooled happily for he knew her answer would most definitely be good.
Urn-ga dwelt more than a week's journey from the hunting grounds and it had been a difficult trip for them. The leader's arm was fair sore from doling out repeated beatings and they had lost nearly a dozen of their own to the initial fight but they had to keep it alive so it wouldn't spoil. Urn-ga didn't accept spoiled meat.
"You'll ruin the hide dragging it along like that," she accused him abruptly. The foolish ones would not think of that, of course, and she would be picking pebbles from the butchered flesh for a week. "Deer?"
"No life-giver." Life-giver? A puzzled frown marred her rough-skinned brow. What in the name of the Valar was he talking about? "Best meat," the male stammered, bowing in respect to her scolding and hunching his shoulders submissively.
The three remaining Orcs finally ascended the last lip of the jutting plateau, dragging the heavy burden. Urn-ga wrinkled her sensitive nose at their sour sweat and took a step back. She loathed having visitors and these were the worse kind.
Young males in the past had tried to court her affections through the usual means; carving patterns on their skin with knives, rolling in dung, and of course bearing gifts of pungent rotting animals. For whatever reason, she, unlike the others, could not be charmed by such worthy tactics.
While she was one of them, she did not accept their society, their cultures or their rituals, memories of another time and another place still lingering in her mind. It was those memories that had driven her from the pack she had been part of, memories that told her she did not belong.
"What do you bring?" she inquired coolly, folding her arms across the coarse leather of her self-made tunic, her chin raised proudly. "And what do you seek in return?" None of her people gave favors without consequences and she would not accept the gift until she new the entirety of the bargain.
"Urn-ga," The bravest of the three newcomers swaggered towards her, clearly confident in his sexual prowess with females. He was still near a head shorter than she was, her height one of her distinguishing features, her blood purer by many years than the monstrosity before her. "I, Kranuk, bring you rare gift in token."
Kranuk lifted his chubby arms dramatically. It was quite obvious that he had practiced the speech many times with his limited imagination , no doubt after conferring with other males who attempted the same and failed, and his mission was clear.
He wanted to court her.
"I want nothing." He finished slyly.
'A little clever for an Orc,' Urn-ga thought to herself with a smile, 'but not quite clever enough.' She pushed her tangled mass of crudely braided and knotted hair over one shoulder coyly and approached him with all the grace her body would allow. Gazing down at him, trying not to recoil at the stench of rotting blood and meat on his breath, she smiled. "What gift do you have for me then?"
The larger Orc stepped aside allowing her to view his plunder with pride.
Roughly, he rolled what appeared to be a human onto his back with one gnarly toe. The man's clothing was nearly shredded from dragging, scraped and bloody flesh visible through it, and long black hair hid his face from Urn-ga's view.
He appeared dead but her ears could make out the sound of weak, rasping breath that was too soft to be that of the snorting, drooling Orcs. Numerous lacerations and dark bruising covered most of what pale skin she could see – though she could see he was obviously quite young.
"A human?" Urn-ga wrinkled her nose distastefully. "You can have it." She hadn't seen one in many years, no doubt more years than the pitiful wretch at her feet had seen in his lifetime, and neither did she desire to see them.
Selfish, loud creatures that bred like ants and swarmed the lands seeking new places to over-run, they were one of the things she despised more than Orcs. She certainly wasn't about to roast one of them, let alone save it.
"No, no human!" Kranuk hastily amended, apparently intelligent enough to see the disapproval on her face. "Elf, I bring you elf."
"A firstborn?" Urn-ga gasped, staring at Kranuk. "But how?" She squatted over the prone figure and brushed its tangled hair aside with her rough hand, uncovering a swollen and mangled visage that might otherwise have been fair.
His eyes were covered with the remains of hot tar, a common practice used to blind the captives, mostly permanent, sometimes not – but exceeding painful. It was often used to break the more unruly under Sauron's care.
Urn-ga turned her focus elsewhere, though, tugging his hair aside. The tell-tale tapered ears peeped through the thick, dirt-matted tresses, giving her the positive answer to her question. "So it is," she murmured, half to herself, shock striking her. "A firstborn…"
Kranuck chortled gleefully. "I gots him good, I did. Uppity maggot," He mimed a battle blow to impress her and danced about on his bowed legs. The other three whooped in delight. It was not often they were able to subdue a full grown Elven warrior and they were near giddy with pride.
"You've done well," Urn-ga congratulated the warrior automatically, still staring at the fallen Elf.
Though she was repulsed by the thought of eating such a thing, she was nevertheless fascinated by the offering, captivated and curious. Urn-ga had so much to ask him when he woke, 'assuming he wakes', she corrected herself silently.
"Then Urn-ga is pleased?"
"Urn-ga is pleased," she said distractedly, tilting the Elf's face towards her, captivated by the damaged features before her.
The Orcs exchanged knowing nudges and grunts, which brought her back to reality and she groaned, knowing that if she desired to keep the Elf alive and uneaten, she would have to be rid of her would-be wooer.
Rising again, she towered over Kranuck, who stopped hopping in proud circles and almost quailed beneath her gaze. "You have made progress, Karnuck," she said in a content voice, then punched him solidly in the face, sending him tottering backwards. Ah, this was one of the occasions she appreciate Orc ritual. "I am pleased."
Regaining his footing, Kranuck's face split in a hideous leer and he made a clumsy gesture, which she supposed was meant to be another stage of the ritual. "Kranuck will find you greater gifts, Urn-ga!" he announced. "Then Kranuck becomes Urn-ga's mate?"
Valar protect me!
While uncertain who the Valar were, she knew they were something to call upon for aid and this was certainly one of those occasions.
"We shall see," she said, striking her most imperious pose. Kranuck whooped and hooted, then bound off back across the rocks much faster than he had approached, his companions following him, leaving Urn-ga standing over her newest possession.
Bending, she grasped him by his arms and swung him up onto her shoulder. "Let us see what can be done for you, Firstborn," she growled, plodding back into the darkness of the cave, the creature's limp body barely weighing anything as she carried him.