Splint

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Brothers and Sisters

AN: And in the end, it's almost mid October, but then, fanfic can't be one's whole life. At any rate, 170,000 plus words and just about 2 years in, I think it's about time to do a "previously..." section. Yes, I think we're at this point...

Previously on Splint:

Rukhash nodded and poked at the fire with a stray stick. "My brother fought on Pelennor Field," Rukhash said quietly.

Cadoc remembered that battle well. The dark hoard had decimated Minas Tirith, and for a brief moment, all hope seemed lost. However, the barges meant to supply the orcish regimen with Easterling soldiers proved to be filled with the ghostly wraiths of long dead Gondor knights. The specters made short work of their enemies, who could do no damage to their foes, and fell in droves beneath the specters' glowing blades.

"I was there," Cadoc admitted, shaking off the ghastly memory. Though the spirits had been on his side of things, Cadoc could not help the unease he had felt in their presence. He could not imagine what had gone through the minds of the orcs cut down that day. "Did he survive?" Cadoc wasn't sure any of the dark host had survived the assault by the Army of the Dead.

Rukhash confirmed this with a shake of her head, and Cadoc could sense the sorrow that filled her. Cadoc had never considered orcish soldiers to be fathers and brothers and sons. Whatever her brother was in life, his death effected Rukhash profoundly, and in that moment she was not an orc, but a grieving sister.

Cadoc laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off half-heartedly. "I never would've known, 'cept one of his sniveling captains managed to save his own hide," she said in a shaking voice. "He told me later, after The Eye fell, and we was all on the run. I wanted to go back to find Thraangzi, I thought if any lived it would've been him, but I learned otherwise."

"I'm sorry," Cadoc said lamely. There were really no words to comfort such a loss, and it was obvious to Cadoc that she was still pained by it, even after all these years. She and her brother must have been very close, he thought sadly.

[Chapter 4: Promises]

Rukhash held up the curved blade her father had given her hours before, admiring the razor edge as it glinted in fractured shafts of light that broke through the grates and passages of the dim tunnels below Orthanc. It was nearly the size of her whole arm! The young orcess smiled to herself. Let Bogdish call her scrawny now. She would show him!

She was so caught up in her new weapon that she didn't hear the soft footfalls that approached her from behind. "Oi, what we got here?" a growling, female voice grunted from behind.

Jumping with fright as she whirled, Rukhash came face to knee with an impossibly large, impressively wide female Uruk. The larger orcess was not only built like a male, but armored like one as well, with a breast plate cobbled from several, ill fitted tarkish originals and spiked arm guards that were too small for her muscled forearms.

Rukhash glared at the massive female, her ears pinning back as she bared her small, needle teeth. The bright, green eyes of the larger orcess sparkled with dark amusement as she regarded Rukhash, her wide mouth forming a fanged grin that was not meant to be friendly. "Come hand it over, runt," the orcess ordered as she extended her large palm. "A little cunt like you wouldn't know what ta do with somethin' like that."

"Git yer own," Rukhash hissed as she clutched the knife to her chest.

With a grace that belied her behemoth size, the orcess plucked Rukhash from the ground before she could bolt, holding her at eye level. Rukhash swung wildly with the knife in her hands. A sour expression crossed the orcess's face as she batted the steel swishing past her face. At one point, Rukhash was sure that she must have shorn off a piece of the female's short, reddish hair.

The female spared an annoyed grunt before her hand darted into the frenzy of Rukhash's aimless attacks. She caught the tiny orcess's wrists in her hand with little more than a shallow scratch to show for it. Rukhash struggled against her iron grip, twisting her tiny body with all of her unnatural, goblin dexterity.

The large orcess chuffed with frustration. "Hold still, little maggot," she growled as she struggled with a wriggling, young orcess. Rukhash twisted and twisted, folding her arms over themselves and turning her body upside down so the soft flesh of the orcesses forearms, at the underside of her arm guards, were exposed. Seeing an opening, the young orcess lunged and her teeth caught fast, filling her mouth with sticky, thick blood.

The massive orcess howled so loudly, it made Rukhash's chest rattle, but her grip loosened, and with a final, desperate roll, Rukhash was free. As soon as her feet hit the ground, she broke into a dead run towards the tunnels that led to her family's den.

"Little balaak bitch!" the female roared. Rukhash's goblin heritage was not something that most Uruk-hai noticed right off. Keeping her feet covered helped to hide her least urukish feature, so most grown uruks merely regarded her as being particularly runty, but her nimbleness was a dead giveaway. No Uruk of Isengard breeding could bend their spine near backwards.

She didn't need to look to know that the orcess was right behind her. For as quietly as she snuck up before, she thundered after now, her enraged snarls sounded as if they were only a hair's breadth behind. The telltale sound of a weapon being unsheathed reached Rukhash's ears despite the heady thudding of her pulse. A whoosh of air above her head alerted the tiny orcess that her pursuer was too close.

Rukhash ducked to avoid another swipe before bounding up the wall. Her shoed foot slipped and she was on the ground again, rolling away from the steel that clanged against the uneven paving stones next to her. Scrambling to her feet, Rukhash dashed forward again, yowling to alert any of her nearby kin that she was in danger, even though she realized she was probably too far from their den for anyone to hear. She silently cursed the shoes her mother forced on her. She could have climbed the high walls to the relative safety of an air shaft if her feet wouldn't keep slipping.

"Shaddup and git back here, you snaga worm!" The monstrous orcess bellowed as she charged forward.

Lunging, the orcess swiped with her free hand and knocked Rukhash's feet out from underneath her. Pivoting midair, Rukhash managed to land on her back in time to avoid another blow from the female's short, broad blade. Rukhash jabbed in the general direction of her attacker. The giantess let out a startled yelp as the narrow blade caught the cleft in her chin. Scrambling on all fours, Rukhash made to dart out of the orcess's monstrous shadow, but she was nabbed by the hair and dragged back. As the orcess raised her weapon, a tiny Rukhash howled with fear and closed her eyes.

A tremendous force barreled into them, and Rukhash was thrown to the side, hitting the far wall with breath stealing force. She blinked the spots away to see her older brother, Thraangzi, locked in a dangerous bear hug with the massive female. They were nearly equal in size –Thraangzi, perhaps, had an inch or two on her – and the noise they were making! The growls and snarls and curses, were enough to set Rukhash's hair on end. Finally, Thraangzi was able to gain enough leverage on the female to throw her back several feet. She rolled to a crouch and snatched her blade where it had fallen in the fight, bringing it up between them.

"Mind yer own business, Thraangzi!" the female hissed. "What I do with some little snaga whelp ain't no concern a yers."

Thraangzi advanced on her a step, his own, long, curved sword drawn, and she backed up a few paces. "Where's yer sis, Glokarn?" Thraangzi asked with a knowing smirk. "Gettin' a piece fer herself up in the barracks, I'd bet, and 'at's where you should be. You ain't got no kin down here." The orcess opposite of him looked as though she swallowed a bug. "This here's my sis," Thraangzi continued, nodding in Rukhash's direction, "so you keep yer mitts off."

Glokarn spared Rukhash a withering look. The tiny orcess squeaked and scrambled behind her brother's broad calf. Grumbling angrily to herself, the massive Glokarn rose to her feet and shuffled down the tunnel.

With a superior grin, Rukhash peeked her head out from behind her brother's leg and stuck her tongue at the female's retreating back. "Serves ya right," she mumbled under her breath.

A firm rap on the head alerted Rukhash that Thraangzi had heard her. "Don't say stupid shit, rat," he grumbled as he snatched her up under his arm. "That girl coulda had yer head clean off. What're you doin', roamin' this far anyhow? Mum had me lookin' all over fer ya. Little imp like you's liable ta get stepped on."

"I was visitin' with dad," Rukhash said with a little pout that normally cooled her brother's ire. Thraangzi's angry look suggested that her usual endearments would not work in this instance. "I'm allowed!" she argued. "That beast come after me fer no reason. 'Sides, she weren't nothin'' fer you, yeah? You tossed 'er off easy like!"

"Ya, ya," Thraangzi rumbled evenly as he headed down the long tunnel towards their den. He seemed pleased with her praise, his scowl gentling into a neutral expression. "Well, klob wants 'er sprogs together, so no more wanderin' fer you today."

Rukhash wrinkled her freckled nose, annoyed. She hated being stuck in the den. "What fer?"

"Granddad's up an' died," Thraangzi said flatly. "'Bout time, if ya asked me, but mum wants us all ta say our goodbyes 'fore he's tossed in the pit."

Rukhash hung loosely at Thraangzi's side, a little speechless. She had just played a game of bones with her granddad the night before. He had shown her how to palm a spare die for cheating. "Granddad's dead?" she said, finally. Rukhash had seen a lot of death in her six years. She had lost three brothers to raids – two died of infection in the den – lost a baby sister to a rat bite and an older sister in childbirth. Rukhash was no stranger to death, but it was odd to think of her grandfather as dead. He had always seemed so... alive.

At least he would have a proper funeral, as orcish funerals went. His body would go to the warg pit and the whole family would get roaring drunk and sing songs and eat an extra large meal. That would be fun, at any rate.

Rukhash glanced up at her brother's thoughtful expression. "You sad?" she asked.

Thraangzi shrugged easily. "Eh," he grunted. "Not really. He were a right, old git. Mum's takin' it hard, though."

Rukhash didn't feel particularly broken up herself, but she wasn't surprised their mum was sad. Mum was always sad when someone in the family died, crying and crying and crying until Rukhash wondered if her eyes would float away. Rukhash asked, once, why it made her so upset, after her older sister died. 'You'll understand when yer older,' was all she said. Rukhash supposed she would be sad, too, if something happened to her own dad, or her mum. She simply did not have the same attachment to her grandfather.

Scrambling up Thraangzi's broad chest, Rukhash managed to perch herself on his shoulders. She rested her chin on the row of black hair that ran the length of his skull. Most males shaved their head like this. Thraangzi once told her that it was easier to wear a helmet without all that extra hair getting in the way.

"We eatin' anythin' good?" she chirped, eager to change the subject.

Rukhash felt her brother chuckle underneath her. He reached up to give her back an affectionate pat. "Krankizub's got somethin' planned to cheer mum up. He's makin' it a big secret, but it's probably man flesh from the larder. Saw 'im down there talkin' with the snaga that keeps the inventory when I were out lookin' fer ya."

"Haardarg," Rukhash corrected.

"What?"

"'At's the lad what keeps the larder," Rukhash explained. "Name's Haardarg. He's scared shitless a dad. He forgot ta send up lunch rations once, and dad was pissed, cause he'd missed their breakfast too. Took me down there an' let me watch 'im whoop 'is arse."

There was a long pause from her brother at that. "Yer old dad's chief a the snaga, ain't 'e?"

Rukhash rapped her brother's hard skull. "Dad ain't no snaga!" she protested as she rubbed her smarted knuckles.

Grunting absently, Thraangzi patted her leg. "'Course he ain't, mite," he conceded.

She floated back towards consciousness through a thick fog. As the haze in her head cleared and she opened her eyes, Rukhash struggled to remember what had happened. A lumpy pile of fur and leather cushioned where she was laying, and to her side a low fire cast a harsh, red glow on the stony walls surrounding her.

Where was she? How long had she been unconscious?

Fighting into a sitting position, Rukhash had to pause a moment and shut her eyes. It felt as though the contents of her skull had stuck permanently to one side. Her head was pounding. She touched the soft swell of a bump forming at the back of her head, and she suddenly remembered...

"Cadoc..." Rukhash's eyes scanned the empty cavern frantically. Where was her shaûk? For that matter, where was her brother? Or, at least, the orc that looked like her brother.

Before Naghúrz kicked him out of their group for buggering the females, Thraangzi's old captain told her he had died on Pelennor field, along with most of his company. But then, Captain Ghrururg was not the most reliable source. He had tried to force himself on Drautran in their first week of joining up with Naghúrz's band. That alone should have made her suspicious of any information he might have imparted. Most orcish males – at least, the civil sort – knew better than to try and have their way, uninvited, with the girls in their outfit. It simply wasn't good manners, and with an alpha female like Shapag, it was tantamount to suicide. But Captain Ghrururg and his roaming hands was not her concern at the moment. Right now, Rukhash's thoughts were with Cadoc and what had been done with him.

Rolling slowly to her feet, Rukhash realized she had been propped up on the traveling gear, the fur pallet she usually shared with Cadoc placed on top of their packs and water skeins. Rifling through the haphazard pile, Rukhash was disappointed to note that their weapons were nowhere to be found. Even the tiny pen knife she used to cut bindings had been confiscated. Cursing under her breath, Rukhash glanced around to see if she could find anything to use in her defense.

She managed to palm a large, pointed stone before voices from the adjacent tunnel alerted her that her attackers were returning. She had caught two, distinct male scents in the main den she was being held in, and Rukhash quietly hoped that there were no more orcs in this cavern than that. As it was, her brother and the massive Black Uruk with him would be enough to contend with if they wanted to give her trouble.

Briefly, she entertained the thought that they had left Cadoc in the woods in favor of abducting her, but that presumption quickly evaporated when she caught wind of her shaûk's blood. He was already injured, and Rukhash prayed that her brother would favor reason over his usual disdain for tarks. Cadoc was her shaûk. That was a sacred bond among orcs, and Thraangzi should understand that he would be causing her a grave offense by injuring her Man. Though they were not close in age, Thraangzi had always showed a kind of difference to her. He protected her when the Isen's flood had separated them from the rest of their kin. He had seen her safely to Mordor, when the other Uruk hai traveling with them were looking at her as though she might make an appropriate snack in the absence of more palatable food. Thraangzi was her favored older brother, one of the few she had looked up to as a sprog. He would listen to her. He had to.

It was the Black Uruk that entered first. Spotting Rukhash awake, he grinned widely at her. His blackened teeth made his mouth look like a bottomless pit, his fangs indiscernible from his dark gums. Shapag had painted her teeth similarly. Pubûrgulu, the Black Uruks called it, a thick mixture painted on to avoid rot. Rukhash swallowed anxiously and clutched the rock in her hand tighter. The Black Uruks of Mordor were nothing to mess around with. As haughty as their Uruk hai cousins, they were just as mean spirited and disdainful to the snaga – or in Rukhash's case half-snaga – under them, caring little for any orc that was anything less than a warrior. Though she called one her shaûk for many years, Anbagûrz was a much gentler example of his brethren. Shapag had terrorized Rukhash for months before finally warming up to her.

This Uruk was not nearly as large as Anbagûrz had been, or even as large as Shapag. He was probably a runt among his folk, or a product of mixed breeding in the Pits. Despite that, he was still a good size heavier than her, and almost a head taller; not as large as her brother, but still nothing to sniff at. His grin held as he loped towards her, his bearing similar to the familiar, stooped posture Anbagûrz and Shapag shared. Rukhash backed up anxiously, scooting across the floor. Her ears pinned against her skull as she bared her teeth in a silent snarl. The Black Uruk looked wholly amused.

"She's up!" he called cheerfully over his shoulder.

"'Bout feckin' time," Thraangzi growled as he entered. He was dragging a bound Cadoc by the scruff of his shirt, his outer vest already removed. Cadoc was soaked from head to toe, as if he had been dunked bodily into a river. He turned to face her, his face purpled and lumpy, and Rukhash was horrified to see him gagged.

She made a move towards him and the Black Uruk scooped her up, easily pinning her under his long, massive arm. "None of that, love," the Uruk chirped. Rukhash's nose wrinkled with disgust. He smelled as if he hadn't washed in over a month, his own odor made all the more rank by the fact that he was as damp as Cadoc.

Thraangzi tossed Cadoc into a corner and crouched in front of him. "Thought we'd have ta drown 'im before he came to, the bastard," he said as he patted Cadoc's cheek roughly. Cadoc recoiled from the contact and cast a desperate look in Rukhash's direction.

"Guess I overdid it a bit, eh boss?" the Black Uruk said with a sheepish grin.

"Leave 'im alone, Thraangzi!" Rukhash cried desperately, worried what other injuries Cadoc's clothes were hiding. "He ain't done nothin'!"

With a barking laugh, Thraangzi turned towards Cadoc, grabbing his jaw and shaking his head roughly. "'Ain't done nothin' she says!" he echoed sarcastically. Thraangzi squeezed hard and Cadoc cringed, his breath coming in short, pained gasps, though he made no sound. "Now then," Thraangzi sneered at him, "what sorta lies have you been tellin' her, yeah?"

Rukhash struggled against the Black Uruk holding her. "He ain't told me no lies," she raged. "That there's my shaûk, Thraangzi. You let him be or I'll have at you!"

The Black Uruk laughed outright at that. "Listen ta her!" he guffawed as he clutched her a little tighter, nearly squishing the air from her lungs. "Better watch out, Thraangzi! She's comin' fer ya."

For his part, Thraangzi did not look nearly amused as his comrade. He fixed his sister with a dark look as he slid Cadoc's sheathed sword from his belt. "Your shaûk," Thraangzi growled. "I know you ain't that stupid. You know what this is?" Thraangzi held Cadoc's weapon up. The gold inlay tree against the dark leather of the sheath betrayed her shaûk's profession easily. It was, without question, the sword of a Ranger.

"He don't do that shit no more," Rukhash argued, though her brother did not seem particularly inclined to listen. "Please," she begged. "Thraangzi, please, don't hurt 'im!"

"Aw, now," The Black Uruk cooed with mock pity ruffling her hair playfully, "look how nice she's askin'. Your sis got good manners."

"Shaddup Lugat," Thraangzi snapped. Leaving Cadoc propped against the wall, Thraangzi approached his sister, crouching so they were eye level. He was silent for a long moment, his good eye scrutinizing her while his mangled right eye seemed to stare at something far away. "It's been a long time sis," he said at length, "but I don't remember you bein' this soft on whiteskins as a brat. I know this tark of yers," he continued, his eye narrowing. "Me and him have some unfinished business. Shaûk or not, I ain't lettin' him off fer what he done."

Rukhash struggled with her voice. Cadoc had mentioned, on more than one occasion, that before he met her, his dealings with orcs were not pleasant. She had always known, even as she rescued him on the side of her mountain, long before she had grown attached to him, that he had been an enemy to her people. "Whatever he done... I'm sure he's sorry fer it now," Rukhash countered, hoping to appease her brother.

"Don't you worry," Thraangzi said darkly. "I plan on bein' sure of it." Rukhash realized in that moment, as she stared into her brother's stern face, that he had no intension of letting Cadoc go. Whatever Cadoc had done to piss off her brother was something Thraangzi was taking personally.

"I will spare you the details of my dealings with orcs, and I hope you will afford me the same courtesy in your dealings with men," he continued in the same, quiet tone. "I will tell you that I felt the ruthlessness with which I routed them out was justified, no matter how much or how little they had done..."

When Cadoc had said those words to her, she hadn't thought much on them. His hunting of faceless orcs did not concern her. Rukhash cared about as much for an orc she didn't know as she did a whiteskin she didn't know. Now, Rukhash wondered just how many orcs he had slain needlessly, and what Cadoc had done to her brother to earn his immovable ire. More than twelve years had passed since she last saw Thraangzi. Did he have a family once? Or had he become a wandering raider, like so many ex-soldiers? Had whatever Cadoc done to him been justified?

Justified or not, Cadoc was her shaûk. Rukhash wouldn't sit quietly while her brother tortured and murdered him. "You lay one hand on him," Rukhash growled, her expression stony, "and I'll slit yer throat in yer sleep."

Thraangzi nodded quietly, a small, humorless smile on his face. "Well," he said evenly, "I guess we'll just have ta see about that when it's done." Rising, his attention turned to Lugat. "Take her in the back."

Rukhash began to struggle wildly, unbalancing the Uruk holding her. Lugat handled her easily, wrapping his arms around her middle and pinning her to his chest. She kicked helplessly. "In the back," he argued petulantly as he juggled the wriggling orcess in his grasp. "What's the fun in that? She should get ta watch."

Ignoring his sister's swearing and hissing, Thraangzi glared at his underling. "Take 'er in the fucking back and tie her up or I'll knock yer fuckin' head off!"

Grumbling with disappointment, Lugat obeyed. Rukhash was writhing in his grasp like a livid snake. Thraangzi watched the pair disappear into the darkness of the rear tunnel with a sense of anxiousness. He did not want to cause his sister heartache, and if it was any other tark with her, Thraangzi would have let the pair of them go without a second thought. But there was vengeance to think of here, his own shaûk and sprogs to consider, and slights that Thraangzi was not inclined to let go.

Let Rukhash argue all she wanted. The subtle scent of a sprog on her had not escaped Thraangzi's notice. If she really did consider this Ranger her shaûk – and at this point, that fact was fairly hard for Thraangzi to swallow – her anger over his death would eventually cool in favor of taking care of her offspring. He would have to watch her for a while, Rukhash had always been the tricky sort, but she would forgive him eventually. She would realize how foolish she had been to consider a tark in such an affectionate light and put it behind her.

Thraangzi was not sure if he was trying to convince himself that he was doing what was best for her or if he was trying to justify personal vengeance over the feelings of his sister. When he turned again towards the Ranger in his possession, he felt the same, blood curdling rage that overtook him when he spotted the Man in the forest not far from his cave. The same man that had taken his eye and his life from him almost eight years ago. No, this was something Thraangzi was not prepared to let go.

Stooping before of the man, he pulled the gag off of his mouth. The Ranger spat and swallowed roughly. His expression was resolute and knowing, and Thraangzi realized that this man would not try and plead for his life as Rukhash had tried to do for him. Thraangzi put the thought of his sister's grief out of his mind, smiling with dark anticipation.

"You remember me, don't you, tark?" Thraangzi said, his voice deceptively calm.

The Ranger exhaled slowly through his nose, his eyes full of grim memory. "Yes," he replied hoarsely. "I remember you."

Translations

krankizub: father. [Remember! Thraangzi's father was the Uruk hai Kragolnauk and Rukhash's father is the goblin Gijakzi. They are half-siblings]

snaga: slave; an orc of smaller breeding

Pubûrgulu: shadow mouth; the blackening of teeth employed by Uruks of the Ash Mountains [head canon]