A/N: With thanks to saiyan-girl-cheetah for bugging me to update. g
"…" = Common Speech
*…* = Sindarin
"He" (and all related pronouns) refers to the Orc.
The Tale of an Orc
Ten: Revelations
Though Morgoth sat on his throne and left his stronghold no more, his spies and servants still went about the lands, and at his orders brought back news of Elves and Men. He knew each and every of his servant, for when he created them, he poured his malice into them, and their wills were bound to his.
In the most recent battle with the Elves and Men of Beleriand, many of the Orcs had been slain. All but one. That one was one of the First he had taken and changed in the earlier days of the world, for Morgoth felt his own malice run in it that was old and had fostered over the ages.
That one was not dead: Morgoth felt its will still pulsing with his own. He had turned his eyes to Beleriand more than once, searching…ever searching for it, for he was loathe to lose anything of his own work.
But Morgoth saw it not, for it was as if a veil of strength shielded it from his eyes.
He withdrew his gaze and turned to his own thoughts, but the Orc did not escape from his memory.
***
Finrod stood waiting with Utíraiel. The sun was low on the horizon already, but still gave off enough light to see clearly by. They waited in silence.
Then, Finrod's keen ears picked up the muffled sound of heavy footsteps treading on fallen foliage. Utíraiel heard them as well, and raised her head, smiling.
He came into the light then, flinching but a little at it, and He stood still, staring at Finrod and Utíraiel. The Elf did naught else but gaze back at Him, holding the yellow eyes with his own bright ones.
Utíraiel stepped forward and Finrod almost stopped her, for he had fought against Orcs for long and it was not in him to see his friend be about one.
The Orc, for his part, held out his hands as he saw the girl approach him. Utíraiel's hands were stretched out before her as well, and Finrod felt that they had performed this same action many times, for she knew her way with the ground, and needed no guide to reach out to.
*Let us sit down.* Finrod heard Utíraiel speak softly to Him. *Finrod wishes to speak with you.*
The Orc grunted and helped the girl to the log carefully, and the Elf watched Him. And Finrod was careful to see that His clawed fingers tapped softly against Utíraiel's arm He had them wrapped around; His eyes also roamed a little about, glancing frequently to the girl with hunger.
Finrod saw all that, and more, but remained silent.
When Utíraiel had sat down, the Orc straightened himself and looked at Finrod, rumbling slightly.
*Who are you?* Finrod demanded.
The Orc snarled at the tone and did not answer, or could not.
Finrod stepped closer, his eyes gazing at the Orc's yellow ones. *Who are you?* He spoke again, and this time, his voice was gentler, for he saw in the Orc distorted and broken memories of ages past: of a lake, of his own people; and he felt wisdom that was older than his own, hidden by shadows.
He looked deeper, and it was as if he saw the distant twinkle of Elbereth's stars in those eyes that suddenly seemed less yellow.
The Orc growled, and the trance was broken, and Finrod stirred. He saw Utíraiel's hand on His arm, and knew that He would have attacked had the girl not restrained Him.
***
He took the tone as a challenge and a threat and heard not the words that came with it. As an animal facing another, he held the eyes of the golden-hared one before him.
The Elf spoke again, gentler, but he did not respond to it, perceiving it to be trickery of some sort, but from the Elf came forth a light and a warmth that shone even from his eyes and bore into Him.
And as if they had been summoned forth, his visions came again: the same ones, yet with more intensity. The ones in his visions and the one before him were alike, very alike, and He felt himself almost reaching out.
Then, the gaze and the light bore too deep, and He growled, hating the light then, tensing to leap forward and tear the golden-haired one to pieces, rip him open with His teeth and feel the blood smoothing his lips.
But a gentle touch halted him and he knew it was the girl's hand on his: a restraint that had grown in him from naught; and he took it as a part of himself and heeded its command.
***
Finrod turned his eyes upon Utíraiel, though she could not see it. He sighed. "Do you wish to return?"
"Nay, not yet," she said. "I have yet to give him his food. Finrod?"
"Aye?"
"What did you see?"
The Elf paused. "Memories," he said at last, slowly. "But they are many and broken."
Utíraiel nodded. "Can he return to what he was?"
"I know not," Finrod answered. "Mayhap; mayhap not. But I will try to aid him and you."
"Thank you."
Finrod only smiled.