Chapter 7: The Plains of Mordor
"Hadeya," Sam whispered, "when can we leave these orcs?" He looked around with alarm and distaste. "I don't know how much longer we can continue to pretend we're one of them."
"Or eat this food?" Hadeya muttered. He flung away the partially gnawed bone he had been eating, even though there were still bits of meat clinging to it. "Dead Easterling just really doesn't taste that good. Maybe if it wasn't half raw…"
"Meat!" Someone shouted hoarsely and dove on Hadeya's discarded bone. Half a dozen other orcs leaped for it as well and a fight ensued.
Frodo put a hand over his mouth, only half-seen under the steel grate of his orc helmet. "How can you eat that?" he wheezed. "It makes me sick just looking at it!"
"We have to eat something, Mister Frodo!" Sam said. "We'll never make it otherwise." He moved closer and pressed a moldy chunk of bread into Frodo's hand. "Eat this; you need your strength."
Frodo stared at it. "I don't think I can, Sam! The smell of it turns my stomach!"
"Please try, Mister Frodo!" Sam stared anxiously through the slit-like eye holes of his orc mask. "Just swallow it quick and take a little water."
"You should drink the grog," Hadeya said. He held out a leather pouch of the thick, syrupy liquor the orcs favored. "Once you get past the taste, it's not that bad. It actually gives you quite a bit of energy."
Frodo gagged.
"Suit yourself." Hadeya took a stiff pull from the pouch and hang it back at his waist. "Anyway, as it happens, I'm planning to split off from the orcs tonight, after they bed down. This road has gotten us well out into the plains, but it's going to turn toward the gate soon and we don't want to go that way. So we'll slip away tonight and set out straight for the volcano. It's going to take a few days to get there, though, even if we push." He studied Frodo critically. "He's going to slow us down if he doesn't eat or drink anything. Move aside for a minute, Sam." Sam shifted over so Hadeya could crouch down directly in front of Frodo. Hadeya took the bread that Frodo was still holding. "Look at me, Frodo. Have you ever seen a rainbow?"
"Of course!" Frodo said, managing to sound indignant and nauseous at the same time.
"Very well," Hadeya said. "Close your eyes and imagine the most beautiful rainbow you ever saw."
"That's easy," Frodo breathed. "It rained the week before Bilbo's birthday party and there was a full-double rainbow arching over the Birthday Tree that lasted nearly twenty minutes. Bilbo and I sat outside with our pipes and just stared at it."
"That sounds beautiful," Hadeya said in a soft, soothing voice. "Remember what it felt like: the coolness of the air from the rain; the tang of pipe smoke in your lungs; the white wisps of smoke drifting away on the breeze; the pleasant warmth of companionship." As he spoke, Frodo's breathing slowed and he began to smile.
"It's like I'm there!" Frodo exclaimed softly. "I can smell the tobacco!"
"Yes," Hadeya purred. "Here, have a fresh baked scone." Hadeya put the bread in Frodo's hand.
"Thank you!" Frodo exclaimed. He ate the moldy bread without hesitation.
"Give me that cup, Sam," Hadeya said softly. Sam handed him a battered tin cup and Hadeya poured a measure of grog into it. "Frodo, here's some tea to wash down that scone."
"Why, thank you!" Frodo accepted the cup and downed the grog happily. Then he shuddered and exploded into a coughing fit. "What in heaven's name?" he rasped out between wracking coughs.
"That's better," Hadeya said. "Get some sleep, both of you. I'll wake you when it's time to go."
Sam put an arm around Frodo's shoulders and offered him his water pouch. "Have a drink, Mister Frodo!"
Frodo gulped down a mouthful of water and was finally able to stop coughing. "What happened?" he groaned. "I was having a wonderful dream that I was back in the Shire with Uncle Bilbo and then suddenly my throat was on fire."
"Mister Hadeya tricked you into drinking some of that nasty grog," Sam said accusingly.
"It was for his own good," Hadeya said.
"I think I need to lie down," Frodo moaned. He stretched out on the ground and Sam put a ratty blanket over him.
"You sleep, too," Hadeya ordered Sam. "Once we get going, there won't be any time for sleep until well after sunrise."
Sam frowned at him, but he lay down next to Frodo and closed his eyes. Hadeya sat down nearby and watched the orcs closely. Now that food and grog had been consumed, most of the orcs were settling down to sleep. But orcs are short-tempered by nature and didn't really need much of a reason to fight. One big orc stomped and kicked his way through the sleeping orcs until he got to where Hadeya was sitting and glared down at him.
"Move over! That's where I'm sleeping!"
Hadeya had purposely selected their location based on its proximity to a field of boulders that could be used to cover their eventual escape. He had made their beds against the flat side of a big rock so that reflected heat from their tiny fire would warm them. He wasn't the only one to have used one of the rocks this way, nor were all the rocks pressed into service, but these facts seemed to be of little concern to the big orc confronting him.
"I said move!" The orc balled up a big fist, the muscles in his upper arm bunching impressively, and leaned toward Hadeya threateningly.
Hadeya didn't move. "Go sleep over there," he said, waving a hand vaguely off to his left.
"What?" The orc seemed momentarily confused by Hadeya's calm rejection of his demand.
"I'm quite comfortable where I am," Hadeya said, "so you should go find somewhere else to sleep."
"Why you…!" The orc jerked his fist back, preparing to slam it into Hadeya's face.
"How irritating!" Hadeya grumbled. He flowed to his feet, drawing his sword in the same motion, and slashed the orc's guts open.
"Huh?" The orc stared down in confusion as his intestines spilled out, along with a gush of blood and body fluids. Blinking in alarm, the creature tried to stuff his guts back in.
"No you don't!" Hadeya snapped. "I earned those." He hacked off several loops of the small intestine and the orc staggered away, trailing the severed ends. He didn't make it far. The smell of fresh blood woke the nearest orcs and they leaped onto the dying orc eagerly, ripping him to shreds and hunkering down to tear into the bloody chunks.
Hadeya picked up the intestines with a smile. None of the orcs seemed inclined to contest him for it.
"What are you going to do with that?" Sam stared at the blood covered, shimmering loops with dismay.
"Can I borrow your seasoning?"
"What?"
"I've been watching this orc. He's been getting the lion's share of fresh meat and I saw him steal bread from at least five other orcs yesterday. His intestines are full of partially digested meat and bread. If I add a little seasoning and roast these over the fire, we'll have excellent sausages."
Sam swallowed. "You're going to make orc sausages?"
"Not really," Hadeya chuckled. "We've mostly been eating Easterlings and Rock Trolls, so I'd say it's more Easterling and Troll sausage in an orc-intestine casing. I bet Uncle Duo would love it."
"I am not eating that," Sam declared flatly.
"More for me, then" Hadeya remarked with a smile. "The seasoning?" He held out his hand. Looking sick to his stomach, Sam handed over the precious box and then watched in horrified fascination as Hadeya hung the loops over his sword, sprinkled them with seasoning and held them over the fire to cook. Hadeya hummed happily to himself as the loops sizzled and darkened. "Yup, I won't be going hungry on the way to Mount Doom."
Far away in the Citadel of Minas Tirith, Duo exclaimed aloud. "No fair!"
Everyone else in the gravely serious war meeting in Aragorn's throne room stared at him in surprise.
"What's not fair, Duo?" Quatre snapped. "All I said was that we should back up Aragorn when he leads his army against Sauron's forces at the Black Gate, if that's what he's planning."
Duo looked sheepish. "I'm sorry! I was distracted. Hadeya was just telling me that he's making orc-intestine sausages and it sounded pretty good. And then he said he wasn't going to save me any!"
"Orc… intestine… sausages…?" Wu-Fei gulped out. "You're not serious?"
"Yeah, with Easterling and Rock Troll stuffing!"
Wu-Fei clapped a hand over his mouth.
"Duo, would you please not make Wu-Fei barf?" Heero grumbled. "He might shoot fire and singe somebody."
"Sorry!"
"Can we get back to the discussion at hand?" Quatre asked.
"Wait a minute." Trowa held up a hand. "If you were communicating with Hadeya you must know where they are."
"Sure," Duo shrugged. "They're crossing the Mordor plains with an orc army."
"What?" Aragorn and Gandalf exclaimed in unison.
"They needed to use the road," Duo explained. "They've been traveling with the army disguised as orcs. I'm sure I told you this. Anyway, they're about to sneak away and set off for Mount Doom. So Hadeya was making sausages for traveling food. I thought it made a lot of sense."
Heero nodded. "I agree. But where did he get orc-intestine?"
"Out of an orc."
"Ah."
"Does Frodo still have the ring?" Gandalf asked intently.
"Well, yeah," Duo said in that tone of voice that indicated Gandalf was asking the obvious. "There wouldn't be much reason for them to go to Mount Doom if he didn't."
"Yes, of course," Gandalf said a little pompously. "I just wanted to be sure."
"No problem." Duo waved a hand. "Sorry for the interruption. Please continue Aragorn."
Aragorn inclined his head. "Thank you. As I was saying: the best help we could give Frodo and the others at this time is to draw Sauron's eye away. We must make him think that a new holder of the ring is about to rise up to challenge him. To this end, I propose to lay my hand on the Palantir and threaten him. It will make him think I have the ring and he will turn all his forces out to meet me."
"Um, excuse me," Wu-Fei held up a hand, his color restored now that they were talking about war instead of food made out of orc body parts, "but isn't it likely, despite the size of the force we just faced, that he still outnumbers us by a lot?"
"Very likely," Aragorn agreed gravely, "but we have little choice. We must give Frodo time to reach Mount Doom and we must keep Sauron distracted from the danger within his own borders."
"Aragorn is right," Gandalf said. "We have little choice. Having lost on this battlefield, Sauron may not strike against us here a second time. We must take the fight to him."
"Moreover, Minas Tirith will not be left defenseless," Boromir spoke up. "I will stay here to guard the city and care for the injured until such time as I am called upon to do more."
Roku yawned widely. "Faramir woke up," he confided to Alexa. "He doesn't want to leave him."
"Were they being naughty?" Alexa whispered.
"I'm not answering that."
Jett snickered.
On the far side of the room, Elrohir and Elladan watched the three children with barely concealed terror.
Treize glanced at them. "Should I?" he whispered to Zechs.
"Why not?" Zechs chuckled. "It will be funny."
"Our daughters should not go to battle with us," Treize said more loudly. His eyes fell on the twin elves. "It would be good if someone volunteered to look after them while we are away. Our elven brothers did such a fine job tending them in their bath and afterward the other day, I thought perhaps they would be glad to take such responsibility again."
The two handsome elves went round-eyed with horror. "Uh… I think, perhaps," Elladan looked at his brother anxiously, "Elrohir and I should be in the vanguard of the charge at the Black Gate. We are men of such uncontested bravery and forthright courage we would do well to precede our beloved friend Aragorn into battle, where we might fight among the fiercest and most dedicated of our evil foes. Is that not so, dear brother?"
"Indeed, those are the very words that would have issued from my shapely mouth, had I chosen to speak first. For indeed, rushing headlong into the bloodiest conflict is no great challenge for us, mighty as we are." Elrohir nodded quickly as he spoke.
"Well, if you think so," Treize said slowly. "I just thought that since Roku will be going with us you might be happy to take his customary place watching our innocent little ones."
Alexa and Jett blinked at the two elves with large, round eyes, displaying their most innocent and sweet expressions. Elrohir and Elladan backed up a step and their horrified gaze shifted to Roku. Roku ran his tongue out in a huge tiger grin.
"That seems like a small request," Aragorn said. "In truth, although I value your skill in battle, the addition of your two swords will not much sway the outcome of this battle, for it is likely we will be crushed beneath the greater forces we will face."
The two elves shuddered and looks of desperation came over them.
"Alas, as we elves are immortal insofar as we are not outright killed," Elladan began nervously, "I think the safer road might be into the stinking black maw of Sauron's forces, for sword and spear I know well how to counter, but the near drowning I experienced at the hands of that dark-haired angel still blanches my heart."
Alexa smiled at him sweetly.
"Moreover," Elrohir continued the confession, "the shattering chords which issued from the porcelain throat of that sweet cherub still ring in my ears, such that I thought I would never again hear the sweet strains of an elven song until I was able to flush the blood out."
"Who, me?" Jett purred innocently.
"But in shameful conclusion," Elladan said, hanging his head, "I admit that the prospect of a forced march over rough terrain is dismaying because yonder striped cat did favor us with a prolonged foot bath, and the rough scraping of his tongue has left nary a callous anywhere on my handsome foot that might cushion it from the small stones over which we must walk."
"Oh pish!" Roku waved a paw. "You'll be on horseback. And your feet were dirty."
Zechs lifted an eyebrow at Treize and stood up. He strolled over to the twin elves and pulled his long blond hair over one shoulder. Dipping his head so his bangs spilled across his eyes, he smiled his most seductive smile. "Gentlemen," he purred, "will you not do us this favor if I extract a promise of good behavior from our girls? I'm sure once I point it out they will agree that drowning and deafening you is not ladylike behavior."
Elrohir and Elladan stared at Zechs with their mouths open. "Such beauty!" they whispered in unison.
"Of course!" Elrohir said quickly. "For you, any favor is not too small, for such unparalleled beauty could never hide deceit, so we place our full trust in you and offer ourselves as guardians to your sweet daughters. They will come to no harm while entrusted to our care."
"Even so!" Elladan agreed. "For know that once our word is given, it is as gold and inviolable. You may rely on us."
"That's wonderful!" Zechs said and his smile became radiant. He turned to Alexa and Jett. "Girls, I want you to promise me that Elrohir and Elladan will be alive and in more or less the same condition as they are now when I get back."
"Yes, Mommy!"
"Yes, Uncle Zechs!"
Elrohir and Elladan exchanged a worried look.
"Those two are totally suckers for a pretty face," Heero commented.
"And they don't know Zechs at all if they think his pretty face can't hide deceit," Trowa added.
Merry and Pippin had been sitting quietly in a corner through this whole thing. Merry still looked a little pale from his brush with the Black King of the Nazgul, but he was sitting up straight next to Pippin. "I hope you aren't planning to leave us behind," he said. "I think I have shown that we hobbits can hold our own in a battle."
Aragorn smiled at him fondly. "I would never have thought such a thing," he said gravely. "Though our Fellowship is broken, you two have proved your worth more times than any of us. You shall ride at my side when we set out and the enemy shall know fear at the sight of you."
The two hobbits exchanged happy smiles.
"Now then," Gimli rumbled, puffing out a cloud of smoke from his pipe, "how shall we organize our forces? We have men of Gondor and of Rohan at hand, ready to strike straight at the heart of Sauron in his monstrous keep. I say we ride forth without delay! There is nothing to be gained by holding back."
"Gimli has it right, for once," Legolas said. Gimli snorted. "We should ride forth right away. If Frodo is on the plains of Mordor, he has but a handful of days travel ahead of him. It would be good if we should we fall upon Mordor's gate just as he is climbing the slopes of Mount Doom."
Aragorn nodded. "You have both spoken my mind. I wish to ride forth just as soon as it can be arranged. Tomorrow morning would be best. So tonight, I will lay my hand on the Palantir."
"Are you sure that's wise, Aragorn?" Gandalf said. "Sauron will be able to see into your mind."
"Yes!" Aragorn smiled grimly. "And he will not like what he sees, for I shall show him visions of his own destruction!" He laughed harshly. "He is not the only one who can sow doubt in the minds of others."
Gandalf smiled. "Spoken like the true King of Men!" he said approvingly. "Well, then, proceed as you would. I shall see to the gathering of supplies and arms for those who shall ride forth."
The meeting broke up and people wandered off in various directions.
Duo followed Aragorn. "I'll back you up with the Palantir," he said. "If Sauron tries anything hinky, I can blast him out of your head. It might hurt, though."
Aragorn smiled crookedly. "It can be no worse than being in contact with his foul being. You have touched his vile mind yourself, so you know what I mean."
"Too well," Duo scowled. "That was really nasty. But I'll stand by anyway. It's always good to have back up."
"Thank you, my friend."
The two of them walked over to the low seat that Denethor had used. Nestled on a pillow on the seat under a thick cloth was the Palantir they had brought from Isengard. After only a brief hesitation, Aragorn flicked the cloth aside and picked up the globe in one hand, staring into its swirling depths grimly. His lips moved as he whispered silently and a look of dismay briefly washed over his face. Then he glared into the ball and tossed it away with a triumphant gesture. Duo quickly covered it back up with the cloth.
"Hah!" Aragorn gasped. "He tried to distract me with visions of heartbreak and loss, but isn't that all there will be should he prevail? Saying that is my fate should I challenge him is a fool's game! That would be my fate should I not challenge him!" He turned to Duo and threw his shoulders back, his eyes flashing. "I will cast him down! This world will never again bear his evil yoke." He stalked away angrily.
"He'll make a good king," Treize said from where he was leaning against a post, watching the whole thing. "He reminds me of me."
"Sheesh!" Duo rolled his eyes. "You have a high opinion of yourself."
"Why shouldn't I? I'm exceptional."
"Except for that whole letting yourself get killed thing?"
"Oh, I planned that," Treize said. "It inspired Zechs, didn't it?"
"You let yourself get killed just to make him do what you wanted?"
"We weren't speaking at the time," Treize shrugged. "My options were narrowed. Anyway, it worked out all right, thanks to you five and your truly exceptional son."
"You could not possibly have planned for being brought back from the dead."
"I admit I hadn't really thought of that, but sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith."
"If I were Zechs, I wouldn't have forgiven you for dying."
"Oh, he punished me for that, believe me." Treize chuckled. "In fact, he still does every now and then. But I enjoy making it up to him, so it's all worthwhile."
"Pervert."
"Says the pervert."
Duo grinned. "Let's find a couple bottles of wine and see if we can get laid. We're about to go into battle again, so who knows when the next opportunity will arise?"
"I like how you think, Duo." Treize clapped an arm around his shoulders. "Now then, why don't you tell me what Trowa did with the two raw eggs? I want to know if it's something I should be doing to Zechs."
Duo chuckled. "Ask Quatre. He had a dreamy smile on his face all morning."
"But that could have just been from the bondage," Treize pointed out. "You know how happy he gets after being tied up and banged all night."
"Who wouldn't be?" Duo laughed.
"Good point, but you understand what I'm getting at?"
"Of course. Well, if you must know, it goes like this." He lowered his voice.
"What are you two talking about?" Zechs interrupted. He stared suspiciously from one to the other.
"Nothing, my love," Treize said. "We were just going to look for some wine. Would you like some?"
"Yes," Zechs continued to glare at them. "But you were up to something. You have that look."
"We were just talking about Aragorn and the art of leadership," Treize said. "You know that's a subject near and dear to my heart."
"Oh, well, if that's all."
"Of course." Treize took Zechs by the hand. "Let's go find that wine, shall we?" He winked over his shoulder at Duo. "We can talk later."
"Sure thing," Duo snickered. "Zechs has no idea what's he in for."
