Well, I would have had this out a few days earlier but:

I started a new job.

I was writing the chapter and autosave decided to be a bitch after my Windows Automatic updates knocked me off of the computer.

So I got it up when I could. (That's what he said *giggle*) It's not quite as long as I've been making chapters, but with two stories going on and having had to redo this chapter, I felt good with it. :) I have been quite pleased with the outpouring of support for this story, and look forward to lots of reviews.

Heatblizzard – as a guest I couldn't PM you. :( I will answer the economic questions you have of Visht's peoples as the story progresses. I have not had anyone mistake or misinterpret what I'm saying when I review, but I have had a few reviewers before just up and quit a story. I had a guy stop reading a Harry Potter fanfiction one time because it wasn't 'realistic enough.' I was like Bitch you're reading a story about a f***king wizard. It's not supposed to be realistic. Needless to say I was't too upset they disappeared, although I do wonder sometimes why such good stories get shoved aside for…like you said…crap. Ah well…

Borys68 – Visht has the appearance of a four/five year old. :3 If that tells you anything…

Chapter 4 – Poor Unfortunate Souls

She should have seen it coming. She should have known that the relative peace and joy they had enjoyed for the past three days wouldn't last very long. But she had been optimistic, and not knowing very much about children had been her downfall. Visht had woken in a troublesome mood. He hadn't wanted to wear the brighter colored clothes that had been provided for him while his own clothes were being washed. He had scratched her angrily when she tried to fix his braids, causing her to bleed from one of the marks.

And now they were at the dinner table, and he was dangerously close to losing it completely as she tried to coax him into eating his vegetables. He had devoured the bits of chicken breast he'd been served and wanted more, but Cerena wouldn't give in until he ate some more of his vegetables. He was a growing boy, after all, orc or no orc, and he needed proper sustenance. They were at the end of their table with a large berth around them. No one wanted to sit near them, which was fine so far as Cerena was concerned. It was even better now, since Visht was grumbling and pouting in the Black Speech.

"Come on, Visht. If you eat your vegetables then you can have another piece of chicken," she said, holding a spoonful of freshly cut roasted corn off of the cob. "Come on," she coaxed again, and he slapped his hand up, knocking the spoon from her fingers and scattering corn kernels. "That was rude!" she said sharply, picking up the spoon and trying to clean up what he had spilled.

"Sha! No want zarza!" he snapped. His little fists were balled up and his arms were crossed over his chest as he tucked his chin down determinedly. She couldn't see his orange eyes shimmering with tears, or the precarious wobbling of his lower lip.

"Vegetables are good for you, and you need to eat a few. You can't eat just meat!" Cerena said reasonably.

"No want veggerbulls!" he shrieked, shoving his fist out and knocking over the little wooden cup he'd been given to drink from. Fruit juice spilled over the table cloth, and Cerena thanked her lucky stars that it was a relatively dark cloth. "Want…want Amzi!" And then he lost his battle with his emotions spectacularly and burst into noisy tears. Cerena could feel her face flushing in painful mortification as heads turned her way.

"…-can't control him!"

"…-expect from an animal!"

"…-disgusting!"

Cerena couldn't pick him up because of the remnant of the arrow wound in her shoulder. It was healing nicely, but picking up a child would definitely fall under the category of 'strenuous activity.' She reached out and tried to stroke his shoulder, but he slashed out at her with his claws, nicking the top of her hand.

"Miss Cerena."

She looked up to see Lord Elrond behind her, an unreadable expression on his face. She looked embarrassed and close to tears herself.

"I'm sorry…he's been upset all day…" she stuttered. He merely waved a hand in a gentle motion to forestall her words. Then he surprised her by leaning down and putting his hands under Visht's arms to lift him up. Visht immediately wrapped his gangly arms around Elrond's neck as the strong arms shifted to support him, and then the long legs wrapped around his waist. His wailing sobs shook the boy's small frame with their force.

"Come," Elrond said, turning and walking away from the table. Cerena stood from her place and followed meekly behind, her eyes downcast.

"Monster."

She paused only for a moment when she heard the whispered word, but then her steps began again and she walked out of the Dining Hall, following Lord Elrond. They walked the hallways of Imladris, eventually traveling along a lesser used hallway. He led her into a spacious office that was obviously his own personal study as well. Three of the four walls were covered with expansive shelves and lined with books. The wide shelves even had a few spaces for the handful of decorative items that were lying around.

A large mahogany desk sat gracefully in the natural light of the opposite wall, which sported many maps and charts. Large, high-backed chairs sat in front of the desk in a sort of meeting area, and it was here that Elrond walked with his bundle, sitting down in one of the upholstered chairs and adjusting his burden. He motioned quietly for Cerena to take a seat in one of the other chairs. She did so nervously, pressing her knees together under her skirt and twisting her fingers.

After a while, Visht's sobs began to peter out, leaving behind only snuffling hiccups. He raised his head then, looking at Elrond's face and then at his shoulder, where a damp spot showed on the fine robes.

"I sorry, eff-sir. I make robes wet," he whispered, touching the place where his tears had dampened the fabric. Elrond merely gave a serene smile.

"You seemed quite upset, little one. Whatever happened?" he asked. Visht hiked up one shoulder, his hand reaching up to play idly with the end of one of the small braids that held back Elrond's hair. The texture of the elf-lord's hair was similar to his own, but he did not voice this opinion.

"Didn't wanna wear eff-clothes," he started. "Wanted my clothes back."

"Well, your clothes were being washed so they could be returned to you," Elrond said reasonably. Visht huffed a bit.

"Didn't wanna change braids. Like 'Reena, but she not very good at braiding," he whispered into the elf's ear. Cerena heard him, of course, but only gave a watered smile. Elrond smiled indulgently at the lad.

"Well, she was only trying to help. Surely it wasn't very nice to yell and her and scratch her?" he asked gently. Visht shook his head, nibbling at his lip a bit.

"No. I sorry, 'Reena," he whimpered. Cerena's smile changed to a more genuine one.

"Apology accepted, kiddo," she said. He smiled at the sound of her short name for him, before the smile faded quickly. He looked bothered as he continued to play idly with Elrond's braid. Elrond merely waited patiently for the boy to continue.

"Then…then Visht just wanted Amzi," he said, his voice breaking. "But Amzi gone. Amzi leave Visht alone. Visht miss Amzi!" His brows furrowed as his little face crumpled, turning back into Elrond's shoulder and heaving great, choking sobs. Elrond looked over to see Cerena crying too, tears making dark trails on her brown cheeks.

Elrond placed his hand on Visht's back and began to tilt his own body back and forth slightly in a rocking motion. He was unsure what an Elvish Hymn, which was his chosen lullaby of sorts, would do, so instead he began to hum softly. Visht cried for a while, before once again the emotional upheaval began to taper off. This time, the snuffling whimpers faded off into deep breathing, his breath hitching occasionally as he fell into slumber.

"I was expecting this much sooner, actually," Elrond said immediately. Cerena sighed.

"It's because I'm doing such a horrible job as his caretaker, isn't it? I just wanted to do good by him, but I can't seem to get it right…" she said in a self-deprecating manner.

"You have done just fine for your inexperience," Elrond said. "You saved him. Then you connected with him in a way no one else here could have. But eventually everything that happened was going to catch up with him, and his age was no help dealing with his emotions."

"He's really just a sweetie," Cerena replied. Elrond looked down slightly, where the green-skinned fingers were still touching his braid. One of the elf's long-fingered hands reached up and gently covered the boy's smaller one, bringing the clawed fingers away from his hair. Cerena was struck with the gentleness of his movements, but she supposed she shouldn't be surprised. Elrond had raised two sons and a daughter. He knew what children acted like. And he knew the effect grief could have on a child. "I hate he lost his mother. I only…I only wonder why those other orcs were after her?" she commented lightly. A brief tightening of Elrond's expression was the only indication of him reacting to her statement.

"Do orcs need a reason to slaughter and torture?" he asked in return. It was that moment that Visht chose to shift in his grip, nibbling at his lower lip as he snuggled deeply into the embrace of the elf-lord.

"…Amzi…" Visht murmured, before shifting his hand and shoving his knuckles into his mouth.

"I suppose Eru is urging me to reconsider…?" Elrond asked dryly, looking at the lad's sleeping face.

"Eru works in mysterious ways," Cerena commented idly. Elrond looked up sharply, studying her face.

"He certainly does," he replied. "I am most curious to see how His Will is carried out."

"It shall be glorious."

They looked up to see Gandalf standing there, looking ever so wizardly in his grey robes and pointed hat, leaning on his staff as though for support.

"How are you so sure? How do you know I won't mess everything up?" Cerena asked.

"The Valar sent me to fulfill Eru's will and bring you to this place. Your presence is a great catalyst," he said.

"But sometimes catalysts fail. What if what will be happens because I failed?" Cerena asked sharply. Elrond was watching her closely.

"What are you talking about?" he asked. Gandalf sighed.

"I suppose I haven't been completely honest with you, my friend. Cerena wasn't just a random being I found wandering around, who happened to be a Seer of Orcish descent. She speaks of the future with such certainty because she's lived it," he said. Elrond stared at him blankly.

"…what?"

"The future is a place of darkness, my lord. The elves have left the shores of the western lands, and their light is no longer seen. Men will love only themselves and their money. They will be boastful and proud, scoffing at Eru, disobedient to their parents, and ungrateful. They will consider nothing sacred. Their world is a sterile, loveless place…" she said.

"Are there no orcs? Sauron has fallen?" Elrond asked.

"No Orcs and no Sauron, but the men are worse than either of them in many ways. It's fairly simple to identify evil here. It's impossible to tell the good apart from the bad in that world," Cerena said, thinking of the corrupt politicians and the lawyers who would defend a murderer for the right amount of money.

"So you are actually from the future?" Elrond asked, just for his own clarification. Cerena shifted, but nodded. "But you just said there were no orcs. How are you from the future?"

"Ah…this is an intervention on the part of the Valar. I believe they shifted her form," Gandalf said. Elrond looked incredulous.

"But why? What could the transformation of a maiden into an orc possibly accomplish?" he asked.

"Perhaps there is a way for the twisted ones to regain the honor they lost when their souls were destroyed by Morgoth?" Gandalf asked. Elrond sucked in a breath.

"There can be no return. The Light of the Elder has gone out on them, and they are in eternal Darkness and separation from the ones who were once their brothers. Many generations lie between now and the original Damned," Elrond was quick to point out.

"No one has ever tried to rekindle a Light in the creatures. Is it impossible or just difficult?" she asked.

"If you break a cup and piece it back together, the cracks are still there. You may have even lost some of the pieces in the process," Elrond countered logically.

"But if there are no cracks in the vessel, then how will Eru's light shine through?" she asked, using an argument similar to what her mother used to tell her about God. God didn't want perfect people, he wanted willing people. She had never made up her decision on whether she truly believed in God, but there were many sayings and teachings that she enjoyed from church. This was one of them.

She was in the unique position of knowing that Eru existed. He had Sung the universe into existence after all. He had created the Ainur, and they had begun the Ainulindalë , the Great Song. The Ainur created the Maiar, like Gandalf, to be their assistants. It was all much more convoluted than that, but the gist of it was that it was real. And she knew it.

"The only thing I don't know is…how I'm supposed to help? I can't fight or defend myself, much less anyone else. I like books and I'm not good for much," she said in a self-deprecating way.

"That is just what Bilbo thought of himself. And you know how that story ended…" Gandalf said wryly. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"I should hope…that you are not going to find anymore dragons to conquer," she snipped. Gandalf merely smiled serenely.

"I will do what I am told by my Betters. It's much simpler that way," he said. She tilted her head back and looked at him, her eyes narrow. "Besides…defense skills are learned by no one overnight. The sills you feel you lack can be taught to you."

"Who here wants to teach an orc? They all want me to die horrible, bloody deaths," Cerena replied, frowning.

"Lord Glorfindel has been complaining about a distinct lack of responsibilities. I shall appoint him to your training. You can start in a few days," Elrond said, as if the matter were closed.

"So you're just gonna shove me with the Balrog slayer?" she asked, her voice a little squeaky. "I'm smaller and much more stabbable than a Balrog….he'll make mince-meat of me…" she whimpered. Elrond laughed, jarring Visht slightly and making the boy blink his eyes open sleepily.

"Glorfindel will not purposely seek to harm you," he tried to reassure, but there was a cold lump of nervousness dropping into her stomach.

"Famous last words," she gulped. But she knew her fate had been decided from the serene looks on both of their faces. Gandalf's mustache twitched.

"Everything will work out just fine."

"Are the wolves saddled and ready to go?"

King Durbûrz stood in front of his general, tightening the belt that held his long, darkly glittering sword. A deep crimson cloak fell over his shoulders, contrasting starkly with the black metal chest-plate and black leather vambraces he was wearing. His lightweight black boots were polished, and his long black hair was braided sleekly back in warrior's braids. On his brow sat an informal circlet with a pendant of an upside-down crescent resting just against his forehead.

"The wolves are ready, and the soldiers are ready to mount them," his general commented, his pale yellow eyes darting about the clearing they were standing in. Morning sunlight speckled down through the canopy. Durbûrz gave a light grin as a shaft of sunlight fell across his cheek.

Where the Lessers, the snaga, would cringe and whimper in the light of Aan, the sun, his Folk were made of hardier stuff than that. It did nothing more than warm his green-toned cheeks. He smiled widely, his sharp fangs glinting in the light.

"My Lord?" came the soft voice of his general. He turned to him. "If I may?" he inquired. The smile faded from the king's face.

"May…what?" he asked.

"You have only brought twenty soldiers with you. This would not be enough to take the Prince back by force. It is little more than your guard…" he commented.

"I will need no more than that," the king replied.

"This will reveal us to the Elves," the general tried a different tactic.

"Good. Long have we skirted civilization. Long have we lived our lives from the shadows. No longer. The elves can get off of their cushiony little high horses," he said, stepping up to his long-legged, lupine mount. The wolf was as huge as a horse, its body thick with sinewy muscle. Luxurious fur made the body sleek and shiny, the black fur almost shimmering in the morning sun. The long legs ended in broad paws tipped with sharp claws. Its neck was long and tipped with a strong head with broad jaws. There was a crown of thick fur around this wolf's head that made him look almost leonine in appearance. A dark, thin leather saddle was tied tightly to the beast. It was similar to a horse's saddle, but it was not quite as large or heavy.

"Are you ready to ride, Fleepaw?" the king asked, putting his booted foot into the stirrup and swinging up elegantly. The wolf shook its thick crest of fur. There were thin leather reigns for directing the wolf, but there was no bit so that the teeth could be free to bit and snap.

"Aye, Master. Let us go," the wolf replied in a steady, deep voice. Ah…the joys of selective genetic breeding. Their wolves were crossed many times with the Snaga Wargs, creating more even-tempered and intelligent creatures. That could talk. It was much easier to converse with your mount with actual words.

The King raised up in his saddle slightly and held out his hand. He heard the soldiers and his general mounting their wolves behind him. The general was dressed similarly to him, but he did not wear the crescent circlet, and his cloak was black and trimmed with silver. The soldiers of his guard wore leather armor and cloaks trimmed with red.

Their wolves began to move forward, making five lines of four wolves abreast to walk down the road. Their pace was leisurely, having no need or want to push themselves needlessly. If anyone ran across them let them tell the elves. Let the elves know they were coming.

Let the prancing little bitches know that they were coming for the Prince.

Ooh la la. Some guestimation on the parts of Cerena, Gandalf and Elrond, and some general adorableness from Visht.

You might recognize the wolves' idea from my previous story. I like the idea of cross-bred wolves and Wargs. I call them Warfs. Lol.

Well, if you haven't, I hope you follow and favorite the story, and of course I hope you leave me a little review to let me know how you liked the chapter. It wasn't too action-y, I know, but there will be plenty of it next time. :D