Fangorn dropped the Orc's limp body and regarded his ward curiously. He watched as she crawled across the ground, weeping and whimpering, toward the creature. He saw how she gathered it in her arms and cradled it close, how she smoothed its coarse hair, softly crooning though her voice was broken and halting. He did not know whether to call such attention motherly, or something worse.
"What has it done to you?" he rumbled uncertainly. "Did it... bewitch you or...?"
"No!" Fleetfoot snapped, glaring hotly at the Ent. "He did nothing." Dragging her hand across her streaming eyes, she looked down at the Orc's still face. "He became himself," she whispered, caressing his dark cheek. "A child of Eru."
"Hooomm," Fangorn grumbled. "They are not children of Eru. They are servants of the Shadow and have no place..."
"He had a place with me," she snapped defiantly, easing Ashûk's head down and standing to face her father. The Orc's shallow, rattling breaths could barely be heard, yet the reassurance that he still lived firmed her resolve. "I saw his worth."
"What 'worth' do you speak of? Child, I have walked this world for many lifetimes of Men, and have never, in all that time..."
"He hunted at my side," Fleetfoot interrupted. "We walked together, we supped together. He told me of himself. He did me no harm."
Yet her brow pinched, and she bit her lip. Fangorn's heavy brow rose then dipped low.
"You have never spoken a falsehood until now," he observed heavily.
Cringing under her father's stern gaze, Fleetfoot bowed her head. Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "I cannot say that what... happened... was his doing."
The Ent's booming voice shook the ground as he roared, "What did it do?"
Though she flinched, Fleetfoot raised her chin and admonished, "Do not judge so hastily, father."
For a moment that stretched several heartbeats, Fangorn glared down at the woman. Then his eyes narrowed and his frame shook with mirth. "Child," he chuckled, "you vex me. Tell me what happened, that was not... 'his doing.'"