Maukurz couldn't fully understand what had happened to him, but he didn't fight it. For the first time in his short, brutal life, the constant fire in his belly and soul was quenched. The will to harm, always strong in Maukurz, was almost absent, replaced with something much more essential: a desire to keep this precious creature safe and warm and calm. There were other urges as well: after but a short rest, he wanted back inside her. He wanted her to be pregnant with his whelp. He wanted to mark up her smooth white flesh, filling the joint need of tasting her and showing her-and all the world—that she was his. Not for play this time, not for a few weeks, but until death. And he wanted the other male who had a claim to her to be safely dead and gone. Halla was too sweet to understand what a threat the horse boy was to them. But those things could wait. Halla lay peaceful in his arms, letting his hands wander where they would, and Maukurz realized, this is what happy means. No one will take this from me.
Her fingers found his thick black mane, pulling a piece over his shoulder and teasing through the tangles. The gesture was deeply soothing, and Maukurz thought, I wouldn't have done half of the things I have done, had I Halla from the beginning.
"Your hair is so tangled! I want to comb it and braid it," Halla murmured languidly.
"I never did that before," Maukurz told her, running his fingers through her incredibly soft, bright hair, looking at it shining against his dark hand. "Some of the warriors went in for that, did all types of crazy shit with their hair. I knew one swordslinger… shaved his head like a berserker, but for the top part. Put all that in long, thin braids."
"You don't like it?"
"No… Not that. Just wasn't a good idea to stand out for anything but making war. Fancy hair, messing with your weapon to make it more your own, anything said you were different. Got jumped or killed like that."
"Jumped or killed? By whom? Surely not the wizard!"
Maukurz laughed nervously. "No, not him. Everyone else. 'cept the loburzu. You don't really wanna be so special in Isengard. Not for nothin' but killing." And a few other things, none of which I will ever tell you.
"What's a lo—"
"You don't want to know, Halla," he said, brushing his fingers over her lips. "Don't even matter now."
She kissed his fingers, thrilling him. "But I want to know about your life," she said, smiling at him so innocently.
"Huh," Maukurz grunted, slightly surprised that she wanted to know. "Not much to tell. I was born in the pits like everyone else. Shaped up quick, learned what was expected-like, learned not to get whipped and clubbed for fucking up. Went off to fight… maybe a moon later. I'm a swordslinger, but I've had a bow in my hands too. When the other wizard came to the Deep and won the fight, I went left instead of right into the trees, and that's the only reason I'm here now. But I was a Captain, in the end. I guess that's something."
"Wait…" Halla said, pushing herself up on his chest. "You said… You were one month old, and you were beaten, and whipped, and sent out to fight?"
Maukurz nodded, not understanding why that should be strange to her. He knew no more of Men than how to hurt them… and now, by some good luck he couldn't begin to understand, he had one of their women for his own, who had saved his life already. But Halla was baffled, and so he reminded her, "It was my Master, Halla, he has black, black magic. Snaga Orcs have little whelps, so they said, that take some years to grow big. Uruk-hai come to life like this."
She was frowning now, and Maukurz had the strangest urge to smooth his thumb over that determined little crease between her neat brows, the one that came when she was thinking too hard or upset about something. He thought happily, maybe my whelps on her will be little like Orc-kind, since I've no magic. Maybe I will watch them grow.
"Your mother is like me," Halla realized, resting her cheek against his chest again. She fell quiet for a little while, and Maukurz could only hope she was not remembering things. But then she asked, "Did you know her?"
"I know no mother, ashgaz. I know war. Now I know Halla." Maukurz smiled and added, "And hunting, when this leg is fixed."
"I don't think it's fair what he did to you, that Saruman. I was told he was a great, great sage once, but he chose evil instead."
"Didn't do anything to me, Halla. Told you, I was a Captain. Got more meat and everything."
For some reason, this made Halla look sad. But yet she held him tightly, as if she was pleased with him. Maukurz sighed happily,returning the warm embrace. Damn that feels good, he thought. Suddenly, there was every reason to live again.
Then the wind brought bad smells: horses, Men, getting stronger. He could hear from far off the sound of iron shoes striking rocks, coming up the trail near the little ford. Maukurz groaned softly. "Trouble, Halla." He looked around quickly, content that the spot he was in was the best one, since he couldn't fight, and he surely couldn't run. He felt a flush of anger that he was reduced to such helplessness, and that anyone would interfere when he was finally enjoying himself again.
"What is it?" She half sat up, terrified.
"No no," he said quickly, drawing her back down smoothly and fast. "Lie here," he said, and she complied with wide, frightened eyes. He could sense her blood and heart quickening. "Just be still, no one will see you. White-skins can't see, smell, or hear for sh—as well as I can."
Maukurz covered Halla with the brown blanket. I'm getting expert at gimping around, he thought with black humor as he shifted his weight carefully, rolling onto his belly and turning about in the high, archaic ferns. He wished now he hadn't clawed the nearby trees up venting his rage and boredom. Maukurz covered up his new bow and his sack of food with the blanket as well. Then he dug his elbows into the earth and belly-crawled forward, to where the ground was a little higher. Let me see you now, shit face…
They weren't hunting him, or even her, that much was certain. Men's laughter carried far. There were two of them, the one in the front bigger but not near as big as Maukurz. He rode a dark horse, the sort Maukurz had been ordered to steal before—though it was a dry-fuck of a job to steal a horse. The Man didn't wear the uniform Maukurz associated with the horse lords, but he smelled the same. He wore bright, soft-looking clothes, and smelled like Halla's bathwater, the scent that lingered in her hair. Is it you? I wouldn't know, you're too stupid to touch her. Which is lucky for us both, pushdug. The one behind you smells like… ahh, I see. I see very clearly. You prefer your loburz to Halla. Maukurz felt deep relief, although in his experience that was something that could change like the wind. There would be no guarantees until Maukurz found a bit of territory of his own, and kept his Halla there. The thought of this pushdug touching Halla made his sight flush red and black for a moment, but there was nothing he could do to satisfy that urge, so he controlled himself quickly and kept watch. He didn't consider that mere months ago such an urge, unyielded to, ignored, would have eaten him alive.
The younger, smaller man rode behind on a shiny red mare, a large, hooded falcon at rest on his arm. Neither seemed inclined to stop. Neither had the faintest idea that Halla was lying in the ferns with an Uruk not fifty paces away. Maukurz laughed softly as they passed up the mountain trail. Don't climb too high, he thought slyly, smiling. Baiurz won't raid your villages, but he won't let you leave either.
He crawled back to Halla, ignoring the aches and pains. "You're safe," he told her, pulling the blanket back. She was covering her face with her hands, and he gently pulled them away. "You are safe, Halla," he repeated, stroking her cheek.
She was flustered and upset, and Maukurz took it bitterly. He had nothing to give her but his own two arms, so he pulled her close, holding her, breathing her in, playing his lips lightly over her hair. His entire body rumbled with satisfaction when she responded with delight, offering him her mouth, exposing her throat for him. It was true, she liked his touch, of her own will. And she trusted him. It was a deeply warming—and unexpected-feeling for Maukurz. He tightened his grasp on Halla, wishing he didn't have to let her go ever again. But they had time still, and Maukurz intended to use every last moment of it well.
The walk home was impossible for Halla. She didn't want to leave Maukurz. She didn't want to see Finnan, she didn't want him to see her. She was sure he'd know what she'd done just by looking at her. She was incredibly sore and slow-walking, but it was her face she feared was different. Halla was sure she wasn't the same person who had left just that morning.
The setting sun cast long shadows over the estate. Finnan's large herd moved peacefully through the high meadow grazing. Clean, natural darkness spread out of the east, and the first stars shone and danced over the rolling empty steppes beyond. The entire visage was one of freedom and peace, yet Halla knew now that there were so many chains—those made by Men—in this free-looking country. She was not free, at least not to love where she pleased. Halla wondered what her husband—what her king for that matter—would do to her if he knew that she loved Maukurz.
She had hoped to get home unseen, but as she passed behind the stable a musical male voice called out, "Halla! Mistress Halla!"
Halla turned in terror, only to see Edwyn leaning gingerly against the stone wall of the stable. He smiled a disarming, enchanting smile. "Can I speak with you, for a moment?"
She was about to say something sharp, but found her words dying on her tongue. She nodded, but crossed her arms over her chest. The handsome young man approached her, a compassionate warmth in his eyes that stole all of Halla's anger.
"I can understand why you might hate me," Edwyn said mildly. "You think I've destroyed your marriage."
It doesn't matter anymore, Halla thought, conscious of the slick dampness between her thighs. But she wouldn't respond.
"In a way, I hated you," Edwyn admitted.
"How… how could you?" Halla asked, astonished. "I've not wronged you, have I?"
"Not intentionally," Edwyn replied. "And it probably isn't fair. But I love him, Halla. I don't expect you to understand. What I'd like you to know, though, is that neither of us planned to fall in love. Certainly not during the War, with so much horror around us. Finnan didn't do it to hurt you, even though he knows he has."
He might have been speaking the very words in her heart. To her astonishment, Halla found herself walking along beside her husband's lover, her feelings of resentment and anger all but gone. "You love him, truly?" she asked. "As… a woman might?"
Edwyn smiled graciously. "Not as a woman might, Halla. As a Man. But yes, I love him, and I believe he loves me."
"Oh he does," Halla murmured. "He told me so." She sighed to see Edwyn's eyes warm with pleasure. "But how—How did it—How did it come to pass… Between you?"
"The War was atrocious, Halla, as I know you remember. We saw terrible, terrible things done by Saruman's Uruks. Entire villages, all but wiped out. What survivors there were, they will never be the same. Especially the women, but there were incidents… I need not describe it to you, but those tortures were not reserved for womankind alone, nor for adults only. So many nights, after we interrupted a raid, after we tried to help those remaining find some sort of safety, the Men of our eored would sit in horror around our campfires, wondering how we'd ever go home and face our families, after what we had seen. I was the youngest, and perhaps a little unprepared. I come from a little village to the north of the White Mountains, near the Gondorian border, and I'd never seen an Uruk, never known their terror."
Halla closed her eyes, wishing she could close her ears to his words. A part of her wanted to defend Maukurz, explain to Edwyn that he'd been born—fully grown—into Saruman's army. That failing to obey the wizard earned beatings and death. Yet she couldn't bring herself to, and it was a horrible feeling, for she realized all the more that her desire for Maukurz would be seen as something far beyond abhorrent. And was it?
"I see you are horrified," Edwyn said. "I too was… appalled by their atrocity. Afraid, even. At first, Finnan comforted me… In a way the others could not, for they could not admit to fear. We talked about honor, and duty, and how we were the only thing standing between our families and destruction. We talked about home, the things we loved, and he helped me see that dying to save those things was a noble, honorable thing. A death to be sought, even. Finnan helped me find my courage. And we did not die, even though we fought again and again. If you wish for me to tell you at what point… friendship became love, I could not. But by the time we mustered for the ride to Gondor, for those last, desperate battles, we were lovers. D'you know, if anyone found out, we would likely have been killed by our own brothers-at-arms?"
Halla looked at him sharply. "I cannot believe that. At the very least, you are both…" she bit her tongue before giving it all away.
Edwyn shook his head, a world-weariness settling on his face. "Doesn't matter, that we were all warriors together. They say such things, such a love as we have, is evil. But I can't believe that. My love for Finnan made me a better, stronger Man. Yet I am grieved for you. Finnan will not tell you this, but it was his father who pushed him to marry. After coming to suspect us. That was why I was not at your wedding. Had you wondered?"
"No," Halla said. "I can't even remember all the people at my wedding. But I do know there was another reason. All the land along the mountains there was left to me, when my parents died. Now it belongs to Finnan."
"Oh, well, that is ordinary," Edwyn said, the picture of an aristocratic youth as he waved a white hand idly. "If you and Finnan were in love, it should hardly matter to you that your land is in his care. And if… if you have children, all of his land will go to them."
"But we won't have children," Halla said firmly, and then a wave of nausea clutched her. Children… Is it possible that… Maukurz and I…
"Easy!" Edwyn cried, catching Halla as she almost fainted. She held his arm tightly, wondering if her affair with Maukurz would be so shockingly exposed. Dear Bema, they will put me to death! Finnan will strangle me in the middle of the village, with his own hands…
"I am so sorry, Halla," Edwyn soothed her. "It was certainly not my wish to cause you pain, and as for Finnan… he had little choice in the matter. His father threatened… to expose him."
Halla caught her breath. It was nearly impossible to concentrate on Edwyn's words, but she understood that she must try to make a peace with him, and with her husband. Her very life would depend on it.
"But even as he threatened, he had no true proof, only suspicions. You, Halla, are the only soul who knows."
Halla understood then. She looked up at the handsome young rider. He had fine, clear blue eyes, and hardly a stubble on his smooth face. "You want to make sure I don't tell anyone," Halla said.
Edwyn grimaced. "I'm not quite so shrewd. I did want to—not apologize, I will not apologize for loving Finnan… Yet I wanted to tell you that I am sorry for your pain, and so is Finnan, though he is far more grave and silent than I. But yes… your discretion would be most welcome. And your interests are Finnan's, as it is. You would only harm yourself along with us."
"I won't tell anyone," Halla assured him quickly. "But understand, I've no desire to sleep with him."
Edwyn smiled empathetically, and he said with raised eyebrows, "Understand I have no desire for you to sleep with him! But heirs are important. I won't… speak for him on that, nor will I deny him his rights."
"You want protection, but you offer me none?" Halla asked archly.
He eyed her curiously. "Protection? I hardly think you need it. At any rate, you do wish for children, do you not? Finnan has told me that was…an anger of yours."
Halla shook her head, groaning inwardly. There was absolutely no way to explain it to Edwyn. "I won't tell, all the same," she swore. "You have my word."
Edwyn bowed his head slightly. "That is noble of you, Halla."
"Halla!"
They both looked up to see Finnan hurrying across the yard between the house and barn. Finnan hesitated, seeing his lover and his wife together. Then he jogged to her, tight anger in his face. Is he suspicious of me? Halla wondered fearfully.
"Where have you been? I've been looking everywhere for you!"
"We had a little talk," Edwyn said gently, sparing Halla the brunt of Finnan's anger.
"Well, very nice. But while you were talking I've had a message from Marshal Erkenbrand. We're not going to Edoras after all, Halla. The Marshal will be here in two days' time, after he does a sweep of Fangorn to the north."
"What for?" Edwyn demanded anxiously.
"The messenger did not say, but I've had word of a raid not far to the north, by some of the very Dunlending scum our king has just forgiven. Likely he'll want me to organize patrols on my own borders. Halla, what is—?"
Finnan's words fell into silent shock as he watched his unwanted young wife swoon, and faint right into his lover's arms.
loburz/u - derogatory word meaning effeminate, applied to male Uruk-hai who are the "bottom" in a sex act with another male Uruk, willing or unwilling. Also can be applied to "weak" Uruks who don't show the desired viciousness, making them targets.
ashgaz - little one
