The next morning, as Baiurz had predicted, a snowstorm trapped everyone in the cave. The Uruks passed their time sleeping, throwing bones, or fiddling with the weapons Shatauz had made. Maukurz was the only one enjoying himself, hunkered down behind the partition with Halla. By mid-afternoon, Ghuribal was up, his one ear pricked towards the muffled sounds of consentual sharlob fucking, which were punctuated every so often by Halla's high, soft cries or laughter, and the occasional growling, roaring orgasm.
"How you stiff-dicked baalaku stand that? I've only been here a day and I'm already fittin' to find a tree to rub off on! That boy ain't changed a bit, has he?"
"Got one likes it now," Narzum said, grinning. "Lets him do whatever he fancies. So he's a bit worse."
A round of high-pitched, near desperate sounding cries punctuated Narzum's pronouncement, and they heard Maukurz—a bit belatedly—growl "Quiet…" before obviously muffling her mouth.
Ghuribal sat still for another moment, a malicious grin on his face as his keen hearing and scent made up for what he was denied in sight. But when the half-breed behind the curtain groaned Aww fuuuck! Ghuribal shook his head, put his hands under his shirt, and started fiddling about in his trousers.
"Damn!" Shatauz growled, sliding away from the little Orc. "Go outside or something!"
Ghuribal scrunched his face in contempt as he pulled a rather large flask out of his waistband. "Pervert," he huffed. "You ain't gettin' none, you keep it up. Whut we's got here is genu-ine akrum, Mordor-style."
The little Orc popped the top and took a long swill. "Get yer lips around that, Boss," he said, passing the flask to Baiurz. "Takes a bite out the cold, it does."
The flask made it around twice before Maukurz stumbled out, taking a seat beside Narzum, and sighing in deep content. After a moment taken to recover himself, he looked about smartly, as if the others hadn't heard a thing. "What we doing?"
Narzum chuckled and said, "Smelt the liquor, he did."
"Pass it up," Maukurz said, extending his hand to Ghuribal.
"Eek! Think I don't know where that mouth's been! Go gargle some snow first."
"Don't play with me, snaga. I'm calm now, but that could change real quick."
"You just got dick for days, dontcha?" Ghuribal asked. "Here. Though I don't think I wanna see you drunk."
"He's even more fun that way," Narzum sniped, biting his lip slowly as if he was remembering when he had the wolf-eyed Uruk's attention for himself.
Maukurz took a long sip of the fiery liquor, drawing a stiff breath through his sharp teeth to cool his burning mouth. "Nice. Been a while."
"You folks need to learn to make yer own drink. Master ain't here to cut yer meat for yuh no more, is he? You can make drink outta so many things. Bread, honey, rotten fruit, potatoes… You can read, right Boss?"
Baiurz nodded. "Him too," he said, jerking a thumb towards Maukurz. "But only in Common."
"Good. Before I go, get me some charcoal and one o' yer hides, and I'll scribble out some of my best recipes. Go 'head, Captain, take another swig. Don't say no Orcs never did nothin' for yuh."
Maukurz drank gratefully, pleased as the warm glow of drunkenness worked quickly through his bones. "I s'pose you ain't that bad, Ghuribal. Least you ain't never did me too wrong."
"Bah… Old times, long ago. S'pose I wouldn't have done no different, wuz I in yer place."
"Maukurz knows how to kiss now, Ghuribal. You gonna show him how, Maukurz? Since we're bein' all squishy and sweet to each other?"
Narzum tried to get out of the way, but Maukurz caught him quickly around the waist, plowing the lanky Uruk to the floor. "Got a lot of mouth today—" Maukurz growled, trying to pin Narzum's arms behind his back.
"You… outta know!" Narzum got a hold on Maukurz's leg, with plans to bend it behind the Uruk's head.
"Ay, cut it out!" Baiurz growled. " 'fore you roll right into the fire!"
"Yeah, take it outside!" Ghuribal echoed, feigning outrage. "Or behind the sheet, where it belongs!"
Shatauz laughed at Ghuribal, shaking his head.
Grinning, Maukurz froze on top of Narzum.
"Yeah?" Narzum asked.
"Fuck yeah," Maukurz replied, jumping to his feet. He clasped Narzum by the elbow and helped him up. "You're done," Maukurz promised.
"We'll see!" Narzum darted around Maukurz, smacking the captain playfully on his rear before jumping into the high snow.
"Two sips says Narzum's gonna avenge my honor," Ghuribal said, nimbly hopping to the cave mouth, where he stood at the edge of shadow watching the big half-breeds toss each other into the snow, then lock in mock-combat, their thick grey bodies seemingly immune to the cold.
"I'll take you up on that one," Shatauz said, calling out into the snow, "And I fight the winner!"
"I'ma thrash you too!" Maukurz replied, gasping a quick breath of cold, snowy air, before charging and knocking Narzum off his feet again.
"What's going on?" Halla asked, stretching luxuriously before stepping beside Baiurz.
"Burnin' off some heat," Baiurz replied, crossing his arms over his chest. Shatauz had run out into the snow, and now all three Uruks were wrestling in the blizzard. The two grunts teamed up on Maukurz, plowing him into a high drift. Halla laughed as Maukurz pushed his way up from the snow; he tossed Narzum one way, grabbed Shatauz and threw him as well, then raised his arms in victory.
"Someone oughta kick his chipper ass," Ghuribal said.
"Commander!" Narzum called as Maukurz fell on him, pushing him face first into the snow. Laughing and gasping, Narzum looked up, spitting white. "You gonna help us out or what?"
"You should go, Baiurz!" Halla encouraged.
"Aww…" the old Uruk flushed. "Been quite a while, little lady. And this foot…"
"Come on!" Maukurz called, beckoning his Commander. "All three of you against me!"
"Well, I suppose someone has to do it…" Baiurz grumbled, stepping out into the storm. He took a big, chest-raising gulp of air before jogging through the snow. Maukurz stood up, drunk and dizzy and laughing, getting his bearings once more.
"You ready, youngling?" Baiurz demanded.
"Born ready!" Maukurz assured him. "Come get it!"
"He ain't lyin' about that," Ghuribal told Halla, slipping beside her. "By the way, Mistress Halla… Anyone ever tell you what nice hair you got? You know, I can style it for you—"
"Oh, no!" Halla said, hands in the air immediately. "I know all about you! You're not putting your paws on this scalp!"
Ghuribal hissed through his teeth. "Calm down, calm down! I was just paying you a compliment! No harm in that!"
"I'm sure you were," Halla laughed. "Oh my, look at Baiurz!"
The Commander and the Captain were locked like two fighting dogs, growling and snarling and neither one giving any ground. For a long while they seemed evenly matched, but the Commander didn't earn his rank for nothing. Out of nowhere, faster than Halla could see, Baiurz got the upper hand, and unceremoniously dumped Maukurz on his back in the snow.
"Get him!" Narzum squealed giddily, running for Maukurz. "Get him while he's down!"
The Uruks fell into a free-for-all once more, with old Baiurz in true form, dominating the field.
"As it should be," Halla said happily. "It's good to see Baiurz enjoying himself."
"Yeah…" Ghuribal agreed, not having the slightest notion what she was saying as he crept closer, half-inch by half-inch. As Halla shouted encouragement to her lover, Ghuribal leaned precariously towards the white-skin, and enjoyed a long thorough sniffing of her shining blonde hair.
Edwyn halted his horse at the end of the lane, surprised to see Ailen and Blythe loading up a cart with Finnan's weapons and supplies for a journey. Finnan came out of his manor in his travelling cloak, ruffling his hounds between the ears before bounding down the stairs. Edwyn hadn't seen Finnan this energetic since before his mid-summer wedding. Now the first snow of the season swirled around the taller Man as he prepared for his adventure. "Where are you off to?" Edwyn asked lightly.
"King Elessar's calling up warriors to clear his dominion of Orcs," Finnan said, striding smoothly over to Edwyn and stroking the strong neck of Edwyn's red charger.
"I didn't know there were so many left in the world."
"Enough, apparently," Finnan said, darkness passing over his eyes. "At any rate, there are two commands, one out of Osgiliath and the other from Isengard. I'm getting as far from here as I can, Edwyn, to Osgiliath and beyond. I've rented a small house in Edoras and told everyone here that she's gone there… and everyone at court thinks she's got no liking for city life. Where she really is, only Bema knows, but I'll tell you one thing… If she's gone South with her dirty black-blooded paramour, and we attack their settlement, I won't speak up on her behalf. I won't even know her."
Edwyn's lip curled before he could freeze his face in a mask of politeness. Fortunately, Finnan didn't see his former lover's contempt. "Is this a large operation? Is our King aware that Men of Gondor will be hunting Orcs from Isengard?"
"I'm certain he is," Finnan replied. "There are complaints in the north of Orcish raids, and Uruk sightings as well, which is part of the reason the King of Gondor has sent soldiers here. I've given my new steward instruction to allow them free passage over my land, and such provisions as they might need."
Are they still here? Edwyn wondered. Or will they be out on the open road, easily caught by Gondor's soldiers? Most likely, their still hiding in the mountains. No matter what, I suppose, they don't have long. I wonder if she realizes how much more viciously he'll be killed, if he's found with her and worse, a belly on her or a half-breed baby in her arms!
"They won't see much action from Isengard this winter," Edwyn said carefully. "Not with the mountains hemming them in on two sides."
Ailen brought around Finnan's horse then, and the lord climbed gracefully into his saddle. "I know that," Finnan said, a true smile on his face like Edwyn hadn't seen in months. "Which is why I'm going to the South. I'll see action all winter long."
"Well if that's what you want…"
"It is. You know I can't stand it here. Nevermind the whore, I haven't felt right since the War ended."
Edwyn nodded grimly. "Good, then. Do what makes you happiest. You always were a fine warrior."
Finnan wheeled his horse around. "I will write to you when I can. When it's appropriate."
"I'll stay here," Edwyn suggested, just as Finnan went to spur his horse. "I'll keep an eye on your new steward. See that he isn't robbing you, you know. Keep your dogs in shape."
Finnan arched a brow suspiciously. "Why?"
"Why not? I've nowhere else to be. I'm utterly useless at home, as you know."
"You think she'll come back," Finnan said.
"Well…" Edwyn replied quickly, "You said you'd take her back, and at least things will look better for you, and you won't have to worry what everyone thinks. But if she doesn't come, you'll know you have someone with a mind looking out for your interests."
"Fine. Thank you." Finnan closed his eyes, sighing uncomfortably. He watched as Blythe and Ailen walked off, and took care to measure the steps of the carter as he picked up his whip and headed towards the cart. At the right moment, he said quietly, "When I return… maybe we can… put things right. Between us."
Edwyn nodded, though there was a good deal he'd found he couldn't abide about Finnan in the past few months, his constant hiding just one thing. Much would have to be resolved… if it ever could be. He watched Finnan trot down the lane ahead of the cart, his head high and proud, his shoulders broad, his curls streaming behind him. For a moment, Edwyn longed to gallop to his side, to ride off together towards danger and glory. Then he looked up to the snowy mountains, turning his mind to the task at hand: keeping that silly girl safe, and her refugee lover in a peaceable frame of mind so he didn't destroy himself when the soldiers came, and poor Halla with him.