A/N: My sincerest apologies for having not updated this piece for so long. I¡¯ve been bogged down by more projects, having to deal with difficult group members, and exams than I care to handle. But well, hope you all enjoy this chapter.
Note: If the characters of this piece seems weird (like when strange symbols appear in place of the open- and close-inverted commas), please right-click, and from encoding, choose Chinese simplified. It seems as if my computer is acting up again. Thanks.
The Tale of an Orc
Eleven: Protections
Finrod Felagund had promised his help to Ut¨ªraiel and the Orc, and he sought them out one evening after having left Beleriand for many months.
For he had taken leave of Elu Thingol and followed many of the Sindar scouts further north to collect news from others of their kin, who were ever watchful, for many amongst them believed not that the Seige of Angband would hold.
Having been born in Aman, the Blessed Land of the Valar, he was one of the few to be granted brief snatches of foresight and more acute sensing of the Enemy and of the Shadow that loomed ever, even if it was held prisoner then.
And he felt the eyes of Morgoth the Accursed wander the lands, roaming, felt the very air become oppressed under the shadow of their searing gaze.
At first, Finrod thought that Morgoth only surveyed the lands and the numerous Orc bands he sent out through secret means to mar the lands even more. But he felt the weight of the gaze always southwards, at times remaining there for long, and dread formed in his heart.
Brethil.
He took leave of the watchers and hurried back to Beleriand, and to Brethil, all the time feeling Morgoth¡¯s gaze upon the land,
And he wondered if it was all worth it. For, if Morgoth was looking for that Orc, he would send his servants to bring it back if it was found, and open war could not be avoided with the Orcs.
Was it worth it just for one single Orc? he wondered. To risk so many for one¡ªone whom we know not if will harm us; one whom we know not if will become friend, or return to a foe.
But the wisdom he had learnt in Aman held him to his nature, and he understood that things that happened could not be in his control beyond the choices he made, and the acts he did.
¡°Ut¨ªraiel!¡± he called out now, having seen her and It together, stepping into the clearing. ¡°I need to speak with you.¡±
¡°Finrod!¡± The young woman cried and rose, walking over to him without fear of tripping, and embraced him. ¡°Off to meet with the scouts again?¡±
The Elf smiled slightly as he returned the embrace, wrinkling his noise slightly at the scent of the Orc upon the woman. ¡°Aye. And we must speak of and do certain things quickly.¡±
Ut¨ªraiel laughed as she felt the slight distaste of her friend, for having lived without sight, the world was more acute to her in other ways. But she grew grave, and asked: ¡°What matters carry so much urgency that you hasten here without first resting and changing?¡± She fingered the slightly thicker and coarser tunic he wore for missions out of Beleriand.
¡°Morgoth is searching for It¡ªHim,¡± Finrod said quietly. ¡°I felt his eyes roaming the lands, as if they were seeking something but could not find it, though they knew where it was.¡±
The woman started backwards, and the Orc, seeing her alarm, growled and approached, but she waved at it to stay and faced her friend, voice defiant, though un-angered at him. ¡°How do you know of that?¡± she challenged.
¡°It has been said by the wise in Elw롯s court that when the first Elves were taken, Morgoth poured much of his malice into them and changed their nature. Bonds formed between servants and master, bonds of evil and shadows. And that bond is strong. Though he is but one Orc, he is the work of Morgoth, and beautiful to his master as the Silmarils are the most wondrous to their maker. The Dark Master does not like to lose his creations, and he does not forget.¡±
Finrod trembled at those words, and he saw that Ut¨ªraiel did so as well.
¡°What can we do, then? We are but mere mortals against Morgoth.¡± Her voice, once quivery, hardened. ¡°But I will not let Morgoth take him back.¡±
The Elf wished to sigh, but did not, and only spoke: The trees here have done much in their part o hide Him from Morgoth. I can feel it.¡± He placed his palm on the trunk of the nearest tree, and felt the old thoughts of it, almost sleepy but filled with the power of the lands and of the remnant strength of Yavanna Pal¨²rien, and he sensed also the net of power the tree cast to the ones around it, and to the ones beyond, forming a veil which concealed the Orc.
¡°Morgoth cannot see Him,¡± Finrod said. ¡°But the bond between them is stronger than these trees, though it is dulled much. Yet, he knows that his servant is here in Beleriand.¡± He was silent for a moment. ¡°I will weave my own veil about him, strengthening the one that Brethil has made, but I know not if it will withstand Morgoth¡¯s eyes.¡±
Ut¨ªraiel was silent in her worry, and Finrod, wishing to reassure his friend, placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled. ¡°Do not fear overmuch. The trees know what they sense from Him, and they would not have protected him had they not sensed his Elven nature.¡± He glanced up at the Orc, who gnashed his teeth at the Elf¡¯s gaze.
The woman laughed lightly, and gave her friend¡¯s arm a squeeze. ¡°Hannon le, hir nîn a mellon nîn Finrod.¡± (Thank you, my lord and my friend Finrod.)
¡°There is no need for thanks, Ut¨ªraiel. Would you sit down with him?¡±
Ut¨ªraiel nodded and returned to the Orc¡¯s side, and they both sat on a log, waiting, the Orc¡¯s eyes suspicious.
Finrod gazed at them for a moment, ere he raised his arms and started to sing a song of power, of veiling, of concealment, and he felt the trees quiver slightly as they were awakened more and their powers rushed out to meet his, mixing and intertwining, weaving in and out of one another, drawing from the Elven nature they felt from Finrod and from the memories of the Orc, forming a veil strong and almost treacherous, almost like the Girdle of Melian.