Acceptance

Alric watched the Orc carefully the following morning, for the night had not been uneventful. Baan appeared to be plagued with night terrors. Though he was paralyzed in his sleep, the man worried that mobility might endanger the Orc. Escape from whatever he was seeing seemed to be the chief worry in these nightmares. Alric had never seen such a bad case, and was unsure what to make of it.

"Please stay here, Baan," he said when the Orc made to rise from his pallet. "I will go to the other elders and we will make our decision. It would be best if... if you remained here."

Shrugging, Baan got up and stretched. Lying upon furs had been a good deal more comfortable than the hard ground. Though his sleep had been troubled by the terrible things he could never remember on waking, he could see the dim light of dawn peeking around the rug hung as a door, and felt much better.

Nodding his farewell, Alric left the shelter. It amazed him that he had no worries that the Orc would disobey and leave. There was a childlike innocence about Baan that he found rather incongruous with how old the Orc appeared to be. It was difficult to assess Baan's age, given the scarring upon his face and the awareness in his eyes. The Orc did not have the eyes of a youth, that much was certain. He had eyes that had borne witness to many things. Likely horrible things. Yet still, he seemed... young.

As he neared the Tent of the Three, Alric realized that causing harm simply wasn't Baan's way. It was not in his nature. If it were, would he not have hurt Aelfled the moment he saw her, as any other Orc would? He seemed to be reacting to the world in response to how it acted upon him, very much as a child would. Like a child, Baan trusted first; he assumed the folk of the encampment were 'good people' and would not harm him, so he did not come to them with ill intent. Very like how Aelfled approached him.

Baan clearly wanted to be accepted by them, who he considered the 'good people,' not reviled as the 'bad people' were.

By the time Alric reached his destination, he was fully confident in Baan's integrity and had no misgivings left regarding the safety of the encampment where the Orc was concerned. Even the possibility that Baan had taken a liking to Eafrida did not seem nearly as threatening as before. He told the Orc the girl was out of bounds, and received no argument, merely acceptance. No more needed to be said.

Sighard, as expected, affected great surprise that Alric had lived through the night with an Orc in such close quarters.

"I confess myself shocked that you draw breath this morning, Alric," Sighard smirked. "Were you obliged to slay the beast in the night, and so this conversation is no longer required?"

"Hardly," Alric replied witheringly. "I wish to get on with the day, and not spend it closeted with you. Speak your mind, and be quick."

"I have given it thought," Hengist interjected. From long association, he knew to get his words in ahead of Sighard or they would never be heard. "Your... survival of the night," he said, ducking his head a moment to cover his mirth at Sighard's expense, "does indeed strengthen my opinion. I vote yay. He may join us, on condition that he be watched. Under no circumstance should he be allowed time alone with any of the women. For their own safety, here and with the herds, I believe it would be prudent if they worked in pairs or more. All who know how to use them should bear arms, and I speak this not simply because of Baan's presence. I looked to the southeast this morning and the darkness rising from the Black Land has gotten much closer. I believe the Nameless One has sent forth his armies, and though Gondor by its proximity is likely the first target, we shan't be long behind. There is also the matter of Cair Andros; it has been overrun before."

"Agreed," Alric replied grimly. "Sighard?"

Taking a deep breath, Sighard said, "I was reminded last eve of what became of Beornwyn's cousin, Achae. I assume her fate is well-remembered?" He arched an eyebrow.

The other elders winced. Perhaps it was nearly twenty years ago, but they could not forget the bands of Orcs that roamed unchecked in the border region of the Emyn Muil to the northeast. Skirmishes there had been costly, and frequent forays into the plainsland left no family untouched. Though few women were slain, a few wished they had been. Achae was so aggrieved by her brief captivity that she took her own life rather than live on with the horrific memories. In the end, the Marshall of the Mark, Éomund, led his éored against the Orcs to their ruin, yet Éomund himself was slain in the battle.

Hengist had ridden with that éored, and only now that the events of his lord's death were recalled did he remember that the area in which Baan was injured was the same. But Baan was not like those Orcs of long ago. Neither of his fellow elders knew this better than he.

"As it should have been yesterday," Sighard said with satisfaction. "Must we once again hear the weeping of the women and the screams of the children? Is that what you require to see reason?"

"And do you require a second interview with Baan before you see it?" Alric retorted. "I promise you, if we treat him with aggression, he shall respond in kind. Yet if we do not, he will remain as he is. As any man would!"

"He is no man!" Sighard roared.

"He is man enough!" Alric barked.

"Let him alone with your granddaughter, then!" Sighard bellowed. "Do you trust him enough for that?"

Though furious, Alric couldn't answer. Perhaps there were still lingering doubts...

"As I thought...," Sighard sneered.

"You do not judge a man so harshly without cause," Hengist said pointedly, unmoved by Sighard's posturing. "I have seen you laugh quite comfortably with the Easterlings who come to barter goods. Are you not aware that their folk are at war with Rohan; indeed, with Gondor as well? Do you not recall the many atrocities visited upon us here in the Eastemnet by their like? How many of Rohan's daughters have been brutalized in the wake of their countless attacks over thousands of years? Yet you stand by and allow your wife to haggle over silks with a man who's father's father likely raped and murdered his way across the Eastemnet."

Taken aback, Sighard's mouth opened and closed rapidly like a fish gasping for breath, yet no sound came out.

"As I thought," Hengist smirked, nodding. "You see the Easterling merchant as an individual, not one to be condemned for what his folk have done. Likely you do not extend the same courtesy to Baan because he is an Orc and unworthy of such consideration. All evidence to the contrary."

"I believe further debate is unnecessary," Alric said stiffly, glowering at Sighard. "Voice your vote, yay or nay."

"Do you even need to ask?" Sighard snapped, recovering himself. "Nay."

"I say yay," Alric growled. "You are outvoted. Baan may stay."

"The vote should be unanimous," Sighard protested. Hengist chuckled, earning a glare from the disgruntled man.

"The decisions of the Three have ever been by majority," Hengist laughed. "We will not change the rules to assuage your bruised pride. You have lost, Sighard. Lick your wounds and slink away."

"Hengist," Alric admonished. "It is decided. Baan will stay in my shelter for the time being. When the men return, we shall see..."

"I will tell you what you will see!" Sighard exploded. "You will see a dozen weary, battle-worn men coming home to hearth and wife only to be confronted by the very thing they fought in Gondor! And their folk embracing the beast! I'll wager this Baan will not live five heartbeats once they see him."

"We will face that when it comes," Alric replied, though a new worry entered his mind. For once, Sighard presented a true dilemma, something Alric had failed to see. What would his son say? How would he react, seeing the enemy he thought destroyed ensconced within his own family?

Setting aside such a worry for now, the elders at least found agreement among themselves that the children should be advised against calling Baan an Orc. In fact, they should simply be told he was an exceptionally unattractive Easterling and leave it at that. It was likely Aelfled had already spread among her peers what she assumed were his origins.

The elders parted, each to his own family's section of the encampment, to address his kin on the matter of Baan, and what protocol was necessary in dealing with the 'Easterling.'

After Alric left, Baan occupied himself in the man's shelter by examining all of the fascinating objects. There were snares of varying styles and purposes, constructed of materials easily attained in the grasslands. Nearly all of them incorporated a loop of thin rope-like weave that on closer examination he determined was braided grass.

Turning one over and over in his hands, he noted the strength of the braid and the manner in which the snare was likely set. A slight smile came to him, remembering those elusive smooth-swimmers and their sweet meat...

The rug covering the doorway suddenly moved aside, admitting Eafrida with a basket of bread. She started, seeing Baan there alone. They stared at each other awkwardly for several moments before he remembered being told not to look at her. He tore his gaze away and fixed it on the floor.

"I... thought I might catch Alric before he left," Eafrida murmured uncertainly. "I made bread."

"He... left," Baan told the intricately-patterned rug, dusty from many feet, that covered the ground.

"I suppose he did," she replied. "Would you... care for some... bread?" she asked.

Not trusting himself to speak, Baan swallowed hard and nodded.

"Very well, then," Eafrida said. "Sit, and we shall break our fast together."

Had Eadgyd not said anything to her the night before, Eafrida felt certain she would not be in such a fluttery state now. She'd been forced to admit he intrigued her; it was as much as she was willing to confess without lying outright. Sitting with him now, she still could not be sure she would have answered Eadgyd's question any differently.

If you are not repelled, what then?

I am simply... curious.

"Tell me, Baan," Eafrida said to break the silence stretching between them. In truth, though, quietly sitting with him was not nearly as awkward as the same with Deorwine. "What sorts of things did you do on the river? Your days must have been dreadfully dull with no one to talk to."

Baan chewed a mouthful of bread thoughtfully, and glanced up to briefly meet her eyes. They were dark blue, he noted. "Swimming, mostly."

"Do you swim well?" she asked.

Shrugging, he chuckled. "I was not made like the smooth swimmers. They are much better."

Frowning, she said, "Smooth swimmers? What are they?"

"I do not know. They have long bodies and tails. Sleek brown fur. Whiskers. Swim on their backs and eat sometimes."

"Oh! You speak of otters!" Eafrida cried with recognition. "Yes, they are most accomplished. I enjoy swimming myself, though I have never tried to swim like an otter. Perhaps you could show..." Suddenly embarrassed, she faltered and looked away. She and her friends often swam in the shallows, very often unclothed for bathing. Her cheeks reddened, thinking of him seeing her in such a state.

To her shock, a spark of longing flashed, and the unexpected image of herself in Baan's embrace, waist deep in the shallows, quite naked, appeared then was suppressed quickly. She fixed a wide-eyed stare on the floor, wondering where in the world such thoughts were coming from.

She only saw him in such a state for a moment. She looked away... Her blush darkened as she admitted to herself that no, she did not look away. Perhaps because she did not avert her eyes as would have been proper, the memory of him refreshed itself often, and seemingly at random, as it did now.

Once more, the rug gave way to someone entering the shelter, this time Alric. He started with surprise, seeing Baan and Eafrida seated in the middle of his shelter, but recovered.

"You have made bread?" he asked stiffly. Baan had a confused look on his face, and kept looking at Eafrida in spite of being advised not to.

"Yes, grandfather," Eafrida said nervously as she rose and offered the basket to him. "We were just sampling it."

"Of course," he said, eying them both. Eafrida's cheeks were bright red; he wondered if Baan made an unwelcome statement or perhaps a physical advance? "Are you... well?" he asked uncertainly.

"Yes," she said too quickly. "Most... assuredly."

"Come outside for a moment," he said sternly. Casting a narrow-eyed look at Baan, he added, "Stay here. I shall be back shortly." Baan nodded, still frowning at Eafrida in confusion.

Once she was gone, he sniffed the air again. Her scent lingered, and he drew it in. Something subtly changed while they spoke, even as her face reddened. Baan had no idea what happened, but for a moment there, his strong urge to mate whenever she was near seemed to ratchet up, as if something about her scent were... inviting such a reaction.

He shook his head sharply. The urge was a bad one, and he shouldn't let it consume him.

"Was he there when you arrived?" Alric asked, and Eafrida started.

"Of course," she replied, bewildered. Alric relaxed, and even chuckled.

"He must have been a soldier, then." At her deepening confusion, he added, "He obeys orders." Then he frowned. "Some of them, at any rate. He was looking at you again. I told him to stop."

"Why would you...," she faltered. "No, he barely looked at me. Why would you tell him such a thing?"

Alric sagged with relief. Perhaps the Orc had simply never seen a maid blush before. Why she would blush, however, begged the question. "I do not want him looking at you, simply put. Now why would you turn red? Did he say or... do anything inappropriate?"

Eafrida retreated to indignation to hide her guilt for her own indiscreet thoughts. Folding her arms defiantly over her chest, she snapped, "I daresay if he had I would not have remained in his presence. I would certainly have informed him of it if he had done so. We talked about otters, and that is all."

Still uncertain, Alric reluctantly conceded the argument. "Very well."

"Now what is this about telling him not to look at me?"

"It is not that he looks at you, it is the way he does," Alric said carefully.

"Whatever does that mean?" she said impatiently.

"He looks at you... with greater interest than... is appropriate," he ventured delicately.

"Are you saying," she said quietly, her arms slowly unfolding in her shock, "he looks at me as Deorwine does?"

Alric snorted and shook his head. "No. Deorwine looks upon you with the soppy, lovesick eyes of an infatuated pup. Baan does not look at you that way."

"How, then?" she whispered.

It wasn't easy for Alric to describe, for those days were far behind him. Yet, in spite of Baan's apparent youth, and the childlike wonder of his expressions at all other times... "He looks at you... as Coenred looked upon your mother in days past, and Eadgyd now. A man to a woman."

Eafrida's eyes could not have opened wider. Covering her mouth with one hand, she hugged her suddenly rippling and fluttering middle with the other. Her breath quickened, and she stared at her grandfather's shelter as if she could see through the walls to the Orc within.

"I thought you should know," Alric said quickly, mistaking her alarm for fear. "I do not want you to be alone with him lest... While I do not think he will harm you, I think... it would be best for you if... Just be sure to always have another with you when he is near."

Eafrida barely nodded her acknowledgement. Her thoughts were more jumbled and confused than they had been the day before. Grasping for anything solid and real, she tore her gaze from the tent and looked at her grandfather.

"Then... the vote has been cast in his favor? Baan will stay?"

"Yes," Alric replied, somewhat relieved to be leaving what was becoming a very uncomfortable subject. "In spite of Sighard's best efforts."

"Where will he be staying?" she asked.

"With me, for the time being. I spoke with him last eve. He seems to be suited to hunting and fishing. At least, that is what he did along the river."

He also swam, Eafrida thought, and again imaginings of his dark skin shining wetly in the sun came unbidden. Shivering as from a cold chill, she hugged herself tightly.

"I will keep watch over his activities," Alric soothed, once more misinterpreting his granddaughter's body language. "I and the other elders. Hengist intends to take him fishing today. I suggested taking Aelfled and Osgar, since they are so friendly."

Eafrida smiled in spite of herself. "Aelfled has selected Osgar as her husband. I've no doubt he bucks like a colt against such claims."

Chuckling, Alric said, "He'll learn she cannot be denied. He should hope she becomes distracted by another."

"Easily managed," Eafrida laughed. "Redwald is infatuated with her. I am sure he needs only present the appropriate gift, and she will be his."

"I will inform Osgar, so he may formulate his escape plan," the elder laughed.