It was a heady few days at the stronghold for the men and elvish soldiers as plans were made for the assault on Barad Mendolin. The Gondorian men swelled with patriotic fervor as they dreamed about taking back their stolen homeland. Thrandar and the Gondorian Captain Barothir spent long hours in the war room planning and strategizing. Their best spies, Aeründal, Illian, and Faenar, had been frequently sent out to survey the fortress and gather intelligence.
Like everyone else, Elaenar was in a fair mood except for one complaint: he was sick of being on prisoner-duty. It was a chore that he hadn't welcomed or had asked for. Bringing food and water to the prisoner was a duty that had fallen on Elaenar by default, and he resented it. He meant to sneak a private moment with his captain to address the matter, but that had proven difficult over the last few days with Thrandar being busily engaged in tactical planning. But Elaenar refused to wait any longer; he was going to address the issue with Thrandar even if his captain was busy and (most likely) didn't want to be bothered with the issue.
He walked into the war room where captain Barothir, captain Thrandar, and the spies were gathered around a large table. The table was strewn with maps and diagrams. Elaenar waited impatiently as his captain gave instructions to Aeründal, Illian, and Faenar to scout for weaknesses along the wall. As soon as he could slip a word in edgewise, Elaenar addressed his captain.
"Captain Thrandar, what of the prisoner?" He asked.
"Take care of it." His captain said curtly, still hunched over the table, not looking up at him. The terse reply made Elaenar reluctant to bother his captain any further.
"Take care of it"...the meaning seemed obvious enough.
Elaenar turned and walked out of the room. He made his way to the prisoner's cell and paused at the door. He envisioned how this was going to happen: he could blindfold the prisoner and march him outside of their walls, well into the woods, and dispose of the body there. He would pull the orc's head back by his hair and slash his throat; a nice, quick kill.
Elaenar's gut churned. This was distasteful.
He turned from the cell door and walked away. He went outside their fortress walls and into the woods; he needed to get away and clear his head for a bit. Being alone in nature was soothing; sometimes Elaenar found that solitude was his best remedy.
Using what knowledge he had of the local flora and botany, he started to scavenge. It took him a long time of hunting and brushing through the undergrowth but he was able to fill his pouch with an assortment of noxious plants. He took his collection back with him to the mess hall; Luthian was there as well, sitting and smoking a pipe. Elaenar took his assortment of plants to a mortar and pestle to grind them into a paste. He added water to the mixture and poured it into a cup before sniffing it.
He gave up. This wasn't enough to kill the prisoner. This was barely enough to get him sick.
"Luthian?" Elaenar asked. He winced at the sound of his own voice; it was obvious just from his guilty tone that he was about to ask an unsavory favor from his friend.
"Mhh?" Luthian responded.
Elaenar didn't even turn around to look his friend in the eye.
"Would you please take the prisoner outside of our walls and dispatch him in the woods?" He asked; his tone was low and flat.
"No." Luthian answered bluntly.
Elaenar half slammed the pestle down on the table.
"Excuse me?"
"I said no. I won't." Luthian replied coolly. Elaenar's bad temper started to emerge and he could feel the anger bubbling up inside of.
"You're the one who took the orc prisoner; you do it." Luthian added tersely.
"That's exactly why I shouldn't have to do it, because I'm the one who took him prisoner!"
"Oh, is that how you see it?" Luthian replied, eye-brow raised. It felt like a taunt.
"Why so obstinate anyways?" Elaenar demanded to know. "It's not as though it's the first orc you ever killed." He spat.
"Well then, if it's no hard thing, why don't you do it yourself?"
"Because it's a bloody insult that you and our captain would relegate the dirty work to me for no other reason than that iIi was resourceful enough to procure for us a loose-tongued orc who gave us everything we wanted." If Elaenar wasn't angry before, he certainly was now.
"You can thank me for our good fortune in that regard. I'm sick and tired of my service going unrecognized and unappreciated by you, our captain, or anyone else." Elaenar was shouting by this point.
"Fine!" Luthian stood up and slammed the table.
"You resent your task? Then don't do it. Take it up with our captain if you feel yourself so ill used, but don't lay your bloody grievances on me as if I were to blame, because I didn't task you with anything. Is it any wonder to you, Elaenar, that everyone thinks you're an insolent, self-centered prick?"
That last word wasn't even uttered in elvish (there is no word for "prick" in elvish). Luthian stormed off and left Elaenar standing alone, smoldering.
"Fine then." He thought to himself. Ambiguous orders weren't orders to be respected anyway. If his captain wanted something done, Thrandar would have to do him the dignity of giving him a clear directive.
Elaenar sat down and thought for a moment. Was it really in their best interests to dispose of their prisoner now? Shouldn't it be done after the assault? Suppose he (it?) could be of some use to them still? Either way, Elaenar took the route of no action.
Later that day Thrandar stopped him in the hallway.
"Elaenar,"
Elaenar turned around.
"Did you dispose of the prisoner yet?" His captain asked.
"No," Elaenar answered, fully expecting to be reprimanded.
"Good," his captain answered. "I need you to question him. Come with me."
Elaenar followed; relieved that he wasn't in trouble for shirking orders.
The captain led him into the war room where various maps and layouts lay scattered over the large table. Thrandar pointed to a ground-layout of Barad Mendolin. The fortress hadn't been held by Gondor for a generation; there was no man alive who had been there or remembered it. The secrets of the stronghold would have been lost to memory if not for a few Gondorian scholars who had discovered an old map of it in their archives.
"There's an escape tunnel that leads out of the fortress." Thrandar said, pointing and tapping his finger on the old, withered parchment.
"It was built into the fortress long ago in the event of a siege. It's hidden just outside of the north tower. The tunnel is obscure and well-hidden. It's unlikely that the orcs have found it or even know if it's existence. When we descend on the fortress, I don't want them escaping before we can wipe them out. It is crucial to us that we know whether or not the orcs are aware of the tunnel."
Thrandar said, turning his eyes away from the map to look Elaenar in the eye.
Elaenar nodded.
"I need you to ask our prisoner if he was ever stationed at Barad Mendolin. If yes, then ask him if the orcs know about the escape route. Be mindful not to tell him where it's located; just ask him if they know that it exists. Can you do this for me?"
"Yes, Captain." Elaenar replied.
"Good." His captain nodded.
Elaenar turned promptly to do as he was commanded.
"Elaenar," He heard his captain's voice behind him and turned around.
"Thank you." Thrandar said. "Your service is appreciated."
Elaenar went away embarrassed. It would be like Luthian to talk about him behind his back.