Chapter 7: All That is Gold Does Not Glitter
Ufhau released Kara's hand, letting it slip slowly, reluctantly from his fingers. He could no longer look her in the eyes. Standing, he approached the Captain, then knelt before him.
"I am ready," he said stiffly, holding the stricken man's gaze with his own. He was Fighting Uruk-hai. He would face his death bravely. "End it quickly. For her sake." He clasped his hands behind his back.
The Captain didn't even draw his sword. He looked at Maklin helplessly, and shook his head. "I... I can't."
"Nor can I," the tracker replied.
The elf who had healed the woman knelt beside her again, stroking her shoulder as she wept.
"I have never seen...," the elf lord said quietly, staring at Ufhau. The orc couldn't mask the instinctive hostility such scrutiny inspired, and curled his lip in disgust. Whatever momentary weakness had afflicted the tarks would no doubt be overcome in due time. He had only to wait.
"I am bound by my duty," the Captain said slowly. "But... no wrong was committed." He seemed almost startled by this revelation. He laughed uneasily. "How often does one say such things of an orc?"
Ufhau released a little of his tension, enough to sit back on his heels. Looking around at the faces of those whom he had taken for his executioners, he was surprised to see more confusion and uncertainty than hatred. He was suddenly very tired, and his shoulders slumped. If they were not going to kill him right away, could they at least let him sleep?
"It is custom to slay the servants of the Enemy when they are found," the elf lord said, his voice as gentle as if he were soothing a frightened doe. "I understand your hesitance, in this case. Perhaps..." He paused for a moment, then consulted with one of the other elves in their lilting language.
"I do not believe you deserve death," Maklin said quietly next to the orc. Ufhau turned sharply to him, and stared in disbelief. "Not for this, anyway," he amended. "We do not know what other things you may have done that deserve such punishment, but at least where Kara is concerned..." He shook his head. "She would not weep for you if you had abused her."
"I served my master's will, and did not pay what was due," Ufhau said in an undertone, his voice harsh with bitterness. Looking away, he growled, "Such debt only grows. It is past time I paid."
Maklin exchanged a look of sadness with the Captain. "Orc... Ufhau. Do you... love her?"
"It makes no difference," he replied hollowly.
The tracker looked up at the elves, scanned the sympathetic faces of the men, lingered for a disgusted moment on Finrael, wallowing in self-pity, then settled on Kara's trembling form. She continued to weep as if her heart were breaking.
All at once, like a blow to the chest, Maklin was stricken by the unfairness. It just wasn't right. How many tales were told, ballads sung, of lovers' sacrifices to be together? Beren and Luthien came immediately to mind, followed swiftly by Elessar and Arwen of Gondor. True, none of them were orcs, but... if even one orc could know love, should such a thing be destroyed? Should not gentleness in their kind be rewarded, nurtured, instead of driven out as if they were not worthy of it? And who among them had the right to judge worthiness, when one of their own deceived them so? The tracker shuddered at the thought of what may have befallen Kara had she not run from Finrael. Even the company of an orc must have held more appeal, he thought grimly.
"We have decided," the elf lord finally said, addressing the men, "that this case must be brought before Celeborn for judgment. He yet remains in Lothlórien." Turning to the surprised captain, the elf bowed. "If it is not inconvenient...," he said expectantly.
"No, of course not," the Captain replied. Glancing at his men, he went on, "We are weary from a long chase."
"The hospitality of my lord will be extended to all," the elf lord said with another bow. Turning to Ufhau, he said, "You will of course understand that we cannot allow you to walk freely in our land. We will halt at the border and appeal to Celeborn for your passage. If it is not allowed, I am afraid you must remain behind. You will be well attended."
The entire idea of going anywhere near the elves' wood was appallingly unattractive to Ufhau. Still, he was not so dumbfounded by the notion that he couldn't guess what 'well attended' likely meant.
It was a strange procession that marched northward to the border of Lothlórien. The elves led, followed by the men. Mixed in with the men, the tall figure of Ufhau strode, Kara in his arms. Some paces behind the orc, Finrael sulkily shuffled. He was bound, where the orc was not, and looked thoroughly put out by this development. Ufhau and Kara, however, gave little thought to the man's predicament, so grateful were they for the unexpected reprieve.
Kara embraced him tightly, as if a breath of wind would take him from her. He held her with similar possessiveness, eyes staring over the heads of the men, past those of the elves. The golden-leaved trees were getting uncomfortably close. Maklin walked beside them, occasionally glancing over with sympathetic eyes. It took almost two hours to reach the eaves.
An elf had run ahead to inform the Lord of Lórien of his approaching guests, and was awaiting their arrival. Bowing to the elf lord at the head of the procession, he spoke quietly to him. Raising his eyebrows with surprise, the elf lord turned to the Captain.
"It would seem that my lord has consented to allow the orc passage, though he must be bound and blindfolded. I am afraid you and your men must also be blindfolded. Such is the custom of our folk."
"We gladly consent," the Captain said with a bow. "It is an honor to be received by one so great as Celeborn."
Ufhau most definitely did not consent, and snarled threateningly at the elf who sought to cover his eyes. Stepping back, the elf appealed to his lord, whose brow creased with annoyance.
"Ufhau," Kara softly admonished, "let them blindfold you."
"I do not trust them," he growled.
"Do this for me," she insisted sternly. Though her voice was nowhere near its prior strength, he nevertheless could not disobey. Reluctantly, he allowed her to be removed from his arms, and stood stiffly as they bound his arms behind him and wrapped a cloth about his head.
It was worse than the troll cave, and he breathed deeply, switching full attention to his sense of smell. He noted where everyone was, particularly Kara. They would not spirit her away from him without his knowledge.
Passing beneath the sweet-smelling mallorn trees almost distracted Ufhau from focusing on his mate's scent. It occurred to him that he was likely the only orc ever to walk in the elves' wood with their permission. He was humbled by the thought as much as confused by it.
Eventually, the procession halted. Ufhau's ears flicked and twitched as he picked up the voices of many elves at varying distances, speaking in their haughty language. He grimaced. Then he scented one of them coming close to him, and he stiffened.
"Orc," the soft voice spoke. "Lord Celeborn will see you on the morrow. For now, there is rest and refreshment. I will unbind you. Do nothing to provoke us, for you are surrounded and cannot escape."
He gave a short nod, and allowed the hated golug hands to touch him once more. When the cloth was lifted from his eyes, he was dumbstruck for several minutes. He gazed around him in open-mouthed wonder.
Though the group was gathered among several pavilions in a glade upon the ground, it was clear the elves of Lothlórien did not live in that manner. Delicate stairs spiraled up into the thick, golden-leafed boughs of the trees to platforms, many joined above by graceful bridges.
The orc knew no words to describe such beauty. Perhaps a month ago, he wouldn't have tried to find any. A month ago, he might have set torches to the fragile-seeming architecture without a second thought.
Enraptured, he was startled by a hand slipping into his, and looked down into Kara's eyes.
"It is beautiful," she said unnecessarily, likewise marveling at what the elves had wrought. Shaking himself, Ufhau remembered that he was deep in enemy territory, that he had only to close his eyes and they would be upon him.
"Rest, and be content," their elf guide said gently. "You may refresh yourselves in yonder pool. It is, alas, chill at this time of year, but it will serve."
The Captain turned to Kara. "How do you fare, my lady?"
"I am well."
He shook his head. "The elves are wonders with injuries, there can be no doubt." He glanced up at the orc's stern expression. "I suspect... you are more weary than any of us. If you wish to bathe in private, we shall wait until you are finished."
"I am, and I do. Thank you, Captain." She turned shyly to Ufhau. "I... should do so... alone. I will not take long."
Ufhau watched her walk away in the direction the elf indicated. He longed for a good wash as well, and suspected he would have to join the men in their ablutions. Not exactly how he preferred it, but for now, he knew that each moment he remained alive pleased him as much as it baffled him.
"Ufhau," the tracker said, surprising the orc. "Sit." He gestured toward one of the pavilions and led the way. The Captain was already seated, waiting for them.
Awkward and suspicious, Ufhau joined them. He accepted the food they offered him, doing his level best not to tear at it like a beast in his hunger.
"It is... clear... that there is affection between you," the Captain said, his cheeks coloring slightly. "The... intimacies you shared... were also clear." He swallowed under the orc's defiant glare. "I would ask... for the sake of decency... that you... restrain yourself... while we are here."
"You need not fear such... displays," Ufhau growled. "I would not give the golug-hai further reason to slay me."
"To be honest," Maklin said, chewing thoughtfully on a crust of bread, "I do not believe they intend to kill you."
The Captain's eyebrows rose. "You don't?"
"No," the tracker replied. "He has made it this far without an arrow through his heart. If Celeborn did not intend to listen with a clear and open mind, he would have been slain before he crossed the border."
"There is still time for that," Ufhau groused. "Golug-hai do not forget, and do not forgive."
"I will grant you the not forgetting part," Maklin allowed, "but clearly forgiveness is considered. If it were not, you would be dead."
"Forgiveness?" the orc snorted. "I have done nothing to this 'elf lord.'"
"That is likely true, but it is not what I'm talking about." Taking a sip of wine, Maklin elaborated, "His daughter was captured by orcs in the Misty Mountains many centuries ago. It is a well-known tale, in fact."
Ufhau's face fell as the tracker's words sunk in. He began to tremble.
"Ah, the tale of the elf queen," the Captain said, nodding, then shot a look at Ufhau. "How old are you?"
Swallowing, the orc looked away. "Not so old as that. I remember drawing my first breath in Isengard not six years ago."
Both men appeared stunned by this news, and Ufhau arched an eyebrow. "The Uruk-hai are young," he explained. "We were not bred in the same way as the snaga of Mordor."
Maklin flinched at the easy way in which the orc spoke the name of that cursed land, but rallied. "How were you bred, then?"
Ufhau shrugged. "I did not see where we came from before we were buried in the earth, but when we emerged, we were grown." He thumped his chest with a fist. "Strong, ready to fight. We would do our master no good as squalling babes."
The two men exchanged confused looks. "Buried in the earth?" the Captain said slowly.
"Do not ask me why," Ufhau said with a wry chuckle. "I was not close in my Master's council. He was a wizard, and likely had his reasons."
"It is a wonder," the Captain remarked with a frown. "Maklin and I marched to Gondor, called by our lords to defend that country from the Dark Lord's might. We slew many, many orcs in those days. Had any suggested I would later be seated in the Golden Wood, awaiting audience with the great Celeborn himself, sharing meat and drink with an orc, I would have called them mad."
"Aye," Maklin agreed. "Mad indeed."