The King and the Orc
"You must talk with him, my King. You must not condemn him before you have even heard what he says!" They had finished luncheon, and Elessar sat smoking his pipe. The serving lad had set a plate of dainty sweetmeats at Arwen's place, but she had not touched them.
The King knit his brows. "I hear you pleading for the life of this Orc, who did murder before your very eyes, and I think of what your mother suffered at the hands of Orcs. My love, have you run mad?"
Arwen blinked and drew back as if he had struck her, and Elessar set down his pipe and came around the table to gather her in his arms. He carried her to a soft, wide chair and sat down with her on his lap. "No, no, my dearest, I did not mean that! But I do not understand why you fight for his life in this way."
"Do you not? It is not in spite of what Orcs did to my mother, it is because of it! They waylaid her and held her captive for months until my brothers could break through and rescue her; they put her to torment, and she never recovered from it; she went over the Sea and left us bereft, and all because of Orcs! And we could hate them for what they did, but we could not truly blame them – they are slaves to the Enemy, they are not free to choose mercy, and kindness…
"And then Frodo went into Mordor – went a second time into that cursed land that nearly took his life the first time – and he broke down the prison doors for three of those Orcs!
"One is dead already. One sits on his mountain with his sons, doing no harm. And one came seeking me! Why did he come here, Estel? He had home and freedom, the fellowship of his friend… he had the brotherhood of the Ring-bearer, and Radagast had been there to be his teacher and adviser… and after all that, he turns up in Minas Tirith, seeking the Elf-queen. Seeking the Elves!
"If you take his life, you will not un-do what Frodo did for him, but you will stop it from going any further."
Elessar leaned back, drawing her with him to lean against his chest, smelling the fresh, woodsy scent of her hair. He shut his eyes. The Elves – what did Canohando want with the Elves? "I will talk with him, my sweet. I will try to see what you see in Frodo's Orc. Will that content you?"
She smiled, nestling in his arms. "That is a good beginning. Where can I put him to stay, out of that filthy dungeon?"
The King's voice was sharp. "It will not be filthy much longer; I'll see to that! You cannot give him the run of the Palace, love. I will not risk having him escape into the City and perhaps kill again. Is there any room outside the dungeons that we can set guard on, where he cannot climb out a window?"
Arwen thought for a moment and then she laughed. "Of course there is – the old nursery tower! It is high up and the windows are all barred to keep the children from falling out; there is only the one entrance – you can set as many guards there as you like."
Elessar gave a shout of laughter. "Arwen, you imp! Yes, it will serve, and I am served as well for saying you could have the care of him! You will house him like a young prince, and the Valar send that my Guardsmen do not rise in mutiny at the sight! Very well – get up now and make ready for your prisoner upstairs, and I will hie me to the dungeons and see to things there." He kissed her soundly on the lips and took himself off.
He found the Warden lying in wait for him, anxious to assure him that everything possible was being done for Canohando. "Indeed, Your Majesty, we had not understood that the prisoner was the especial concern of the Queen! I am deeply upset that she was not satisfied with his condition –" The man bowed and fawned his way along the passage a step ahead of the King until Elessar grew weary of him.
"I am quite certain you did not understand the situation, Warden, nor do you understand it now! I will not tolerate that any of my prisoners are mistreated, whether they are under the Queen's protection or not, whether they are under sentence of death or not – as this prisoner is not, for I have not yet passed judgment. Or did you think to make the Orc feel at home by turning my dungeons into an Orkish lockhole? Call me a guard of six men; I am taking the prisoner up to my study for questioning."
The Warden opened his mouth to protest and shut it again as he took in the King's expression of cold rage. Quickly he bowed himself out of sight, and Elessar came alone to Canohando's cell.
The Orc was sitting on his pallet plaiting his hair into three thick braids. He got up at once when he saw the King, and came over to the bars. "Thank you, lord! Now I know why Ninefingers was proud to be called your friend."
He was clean, in a fresh tunic and loose pants cinched tight around his ankles, and his arm had been bandaged. The King looked him over critically; even in the dim light he could see dark bruises on the Orc's arms and throat, and there was a contusion on his cheek as if a fist had ploughed into it a day or so earlier. He was standing straighter, though, and his voice was stronger than it had been in the morning.
"I wish to talk with you, Orc, but not here. I am taking you up to my study, but I will not trust to your honor till I know you better: you will have to be bound."
Canohando's answer was to turn his back and stretch his hands behind him through the bars, ready for the bonds. Elessar raised his brows in surprise, fishing in his pockets. He found one of Arwen's silk scarves there – she had tired of it when they went walking the day before and had folded it up and tucked in his pocket for safekeeping – always she covered her hair to keep the wind from blowing it into disorder, and then changed her mind and wanted to feel the breeze on her head. He bound the scarf around the Orc's wrists, twisting the soft silk to add strength and tying it firmly. A novel form of restraint, he thought wryly, but silk is strong, and I think it will hold him. The guardsmen he had requested filed into the corridor as he gave the scarf a last tug to ensure that the knots were tight, and behind them came the Warden carrying a ring of keys.
"Your Majesty, I must advise against taking him out of his cell – I cannot vouch for him if he is not under lock and key," the man protested even as he unlocked the cell door. He was patently terrified of Canohando.
"I do not ask you to vouch for him, Warden. See to the condition of the rest of my prisoners instead, for I shall inspect my dungeons from top to bottom when I have finished with the Orc. Should I find any of the others in the state he was in, it will go very ill with you."
The man paled and stood aside. Elessar pulled the door open and Canohando stepped out. "Two of you hold his arms, but don't drag him. Two ahead and the other two behind him, and I will follow. Take him up to my study."
He thought hard on the way up. Six guards standing over them would not make for a comfortable conversation, and that was what he needed, if he was to take the measure of this Orc. But he had seen Canohando in action; he was a clever and resourceful warrior, and binding his hands would not stop him if he made a bid for freedom. Elessar did not think he was in personal danger from the Orc – his demeanor with Arwen argued against that – but he did not want him running free in Minas Tirith!
"You." He tapped the shoulder of the guard in front of him. "Get us a set of ankle chains; I will take your place here." He stopped before they went through the iron door of the dungeons to have the chains put on. Canohando stared down at them sadly, but said nothing. Then they went on slowly, for the Orc was awkward in the chains and was still walking with evident pain.
In the study, Elessar stationed three guards at the windows and the others outside the door; then he led the Orc to the chairs before the fireplace. "Sit down, Canohando. I regret that you cannot lean back with your hands bound, but make yourself as comfortable as you can."
The Orc looked doubtfully at him. "May I sit on the floor, King of Gondor? I am not used to chairs."
The King nodded, but the chains held the Orc's feet too close together for him to get down on the floor without assistance, and at last Elessar had to help him. Then he settled into his own chair and lit his pipe. He wanted a glass of wine, but he didn't like to drink while the Orc went thirsty, and he didn't want to have to hold the glass for him.
Canohando sat watching the fire and Elessar wondered what he was thinking. Remembering his home, or thinking of watchfires on the eve of battles? The Orc's face was peaceful in repose, and the King wondered if he could have faced the chief of his enemies with like tranquility, sitting bound and in chains.
"Why did you come here, Canohando?"
"To find the Elf-queen, the Lady of the Jewel." He answered without taking his eyes from the flames, his voice soft.
"Why?" Elessar asked again, and the Orc looked up at him.
"I don't know, lord. I could not rest; it was a fire in my belly. I would like to see the Shire, as well, to set my feet in the land my brother came from, but I had to find the Lady whose jewel I wore. I cannot tell you why."
The King regarded him with misgiving. "What would you do in the Shire? I do not permit even Men to enter that land, still less an Orc!"
Canohando shrugged. " I do not think I will ever leave your city now, King of Gondor. As to what would I do in the Shire…" He looked into the fire once more. "Walk around. Try to find the places my runt told us about, Bag End and the great home by the river, with all the windows that glowed in the sunset… I had hoped I might still find him there…" His voice trailed off.
He did not weep, but his sorrow was palpable and pity stirred in Elessar. He remembered when Frodo had told them of the Orcs, how they had turned away from the Dark – he had wondered then, although he had not spoken his doubts. Frodo was a hobbit, and innocent; he might have deceived himself, to believe what he only wished to be so. But with the grieving Orc sitting on the floor of his study, Elessar could disbelieve no longer. Canohando might still be dangerous – of course he was – but there was no question of his love for the Ring-bearer. Frodo had seen truly after all.
"Why did you creep into my hall in secret, and rush at us the way you did? You must have known the guards would come after you!"
"How else could I reach the Lady?" Canohando sounded surprised. "The men of Gondor would kill me on sight; I could not tell you how many corpses of Orcs I have come upon in Mordor, slain and left for the vultures. Yet I had to find her! I knew I diced with death. I learned that from Ninefingers, perhaps – I asked him once if he thought it sport, to play with death."
Elessar stared; that was a side of Frodo he had never seen. "How did he answer you?"
"He gambled, but not for sport. He gambled for our freedom, and he won." The Orc's chin sank to his chest and he closed his eyes.
He will not weep before me, not as he did with Arwen, Elessar realized, but he is nearly at the end of what he can bear. He got up and poured a glass of wine, then went to the Orc, went down on one knee beside him. "Here, Canohando. Drink."
The Orc drank as the King held the glass for him. A drop of wine dribbled down his chin and Elessar wiped it away with one finger. "Thank you, lord," the Orc said, meeting his eyes, and for a moment the King was struck motionless. Then he got up, putting the glass aside, pouring a drink for himself.
He knew those eyes, though he had not seen them in nearly sixty years. Humble, patient in suffering – How can you call him patient, son of Arathorn? Was he patient when he murdered your Guardsman? But honesty forced the King to admit that he himself might have done the same, if a naked sword bore down on him and he had no weapon.
Frodo would not have done it, he thought But Frodo was not a warrior. In spite of that, he had been fierce enough in Moria, running forward to drive his little sword into the troll, if only into its foot! Elessar grinned at the memory; Frodo in battle frenzy was a sight never to be forgotten.
"What do you want with the Queen, Canohando?" he asked.
For a long minute the Orc did not answer. Then he said dreamily, "I want to look at her. I want to follow after her and keep away all danger, anything that would hurt her or give her sorrow. I want to hear her voice, even if she is not speaking to me." He looked up at the King. "What do you want of the moon, lord? Only that it shines, and you are there to see it."
The King sat back in his chair, unable to think of another question, and Canohando returned to watching the fire. After a while he asked, "Is it true what the Lady says, that you will not put me to torture?" There was neither defiance nor plea in his voice; it was a simple request for information, and Elessar thought again of Frodo. In just this way the hobbit had accepted his fate, without self-pity or fanfare.
"I do not torture my enemies," he said. After a moment he added, "And I am not certain that you are an enemy."
"My brother treasured your friendship, King of Gondor. I am not your enemy," said the Orc.
Elessar went over to the door and sent one of the guardsmen to find the Queen, to know if she was finished with her preparations. Soon after Arwen came herself, a little flushed from her labors, and he met her at the door.
"May I bring him up there now? You will not send him back to the dungeons tonight, will you?"
Elessar put an arm around her. "You sound as if you had a new puppy to house instead of a murderous Orc! Yes, if you are ready, I will bring him up – I want to look around and be as sure as I may that he cannot escape."
He thought they made a strange procession, the guardsmen flanking the Orc and following behind Arwen, while he himself was the rear guard. Arwen had started to protest the ankle chains, but he frowned her to silence. "He is a prisoner, my love. Pray don't let your gentle heart blind you to that!"
But his own heart was touched at the look on Canohando's face when the Orc saw his new quarters. Arwen had had the old playroom, the largest room in the nursery tower, cleared of nearly all its furnishings. She had left a long table with benches on each side and a low bed with a pile of bright-colored blankets.The room was bare, but sunlight gilded the polished wood floor, and the purple bulk of Mindolluin was visible through the barred windows.There was even a fire on the hearth.
Elessar examined the room carefully for security, taking the captain of the little brigade of guards by the arm as he did so. "Help me – Falk, is it?" he said softly. "If you were prisoner in this room, could you escape?" Falk looked out the windows, but it was a long drop to the roof of the main building below, and the bars were no more than the width of three fingers apart. He thrust the poker up the chimney throat, but there was a grating there, bolted in place. There were two doors, besides the entrance they had come in by, and he opened them: one led to a bedroom with no other exit, the other to a hallway.
"It would be better to seal these off," he said, and the King nodded. "How many guards, Majesty, and where will you place them?"
"Advise me," said Elessar.
The man considered carefully. "I would say six at that door to the passage, even if you seal it off. The bed chamber has nothing but the barred window," he stepped in and looked around it again. "If he got out of that, he'd fall into the main courtyard – he'd never survive that, and he'd be no more trouble to us. The main door to this room, I think you want a good dozen men, Majesty. I was in the hall the other morning when he killed. And a couple of archers at each door, in case he found a way out in spite of everything. You will keep the ankle chains on him?"
"For the time being," said the King. "I think that is a good plan you have laid out – will you put it in effect for me? I want only volunteers for this duty, men who are fast and can think on their feet. I do not want this Orc loose in Minas Tirith, and he is wily." The guardsman stared straight ahead, and the King smiled slightly. "You wonder why I do not sentence him to death and be done with it."
"Yes, Your Majesty.I do wonder that."
"Because I am not certain he is worthy of death. Will you take on the task of guarding him?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Elessar sent him off to find his volunteers, and himself turned back to where Arwen sat talking to Canohando, who stood before her. He leaned against the window watching them, thinking his own thoughts. How strange it feels to be in this room again! Time was when we came up here every afternoon to play for a while with the children, a pleasant respite from affairs of state. But they have been grown up for many years, the girls married and mothers themselves, Eldarion my emissary in the North. He will be home for the New Year…
Arwen had changed little with the years. Some fine laugh lines around her eyes, a bit thicker in the waist than she had been on her wedding day, but these were small things. The endless youth of the Eldar seemed still to flow in her veins, but Elessar was feeling his age. Your hair is graying, son of Arathorn, and it is one hundred twenty years since you planted the White Tree in the courtyard once more. It is high time Eldarion came home.
"My love." Arwen's voice came to him as from some distance. "May I have my scarf back now?"
She was laughing up at him, and it took him a moment to remember what scarf she meant, and where it was. Then he looked around the room: Canohando stood by the table, his hands still bound behind him, but he was gazing across the room at the mountain outside the window. There came a sound of hammering from the passage; they were sealing up the exit. The guardsmen who had come upstairs with them were standing in a row across the main door in casual alertness, not at parade-ground attention, but they were wide-awake and on duty.
"Not yet, love, not until Falk has finished his arrangements for security. I shall remain here until all is settled, but you need not, if you have things to do elsewhere."
"I have nothing to do that I would not rather leave undone to be with you, my King."
She took his hand and led him to the table, and they sat together on the bench with his arm around her shoulders. But Canohando walked over to stare out the window at the mountain and the sky, before he turned his back deliberately on the world outside and stood watching the Queen, leaning his head back against the bars.
They left the tower at last, after Falk had proclaimed himself satisfied with the security of the prisoner, after Elessar had tried without much success to untie the knots he had made in Arwen's scarf. Finally he gave up and cut the Orc's hands free with his knife, reflecting that Arwen would be sure to chaff him about it when they were alone. But before they could turn away, Canohando knelt before them.
"You are noble and good, Elf-queen, King of Gondor. You imprison me in the most beautiful room I have ever seen, and you have my homage, if you will accept that from an Orc. One thing more I would beg of your kindness."
"What is it that you wish?" Arwen asked.
"The pack I left in the Great Hall – there was a drum in it. It was given to me by a friend as he lay dying, and it grieves me that it may be lost or destroyed. Will you have someone look for it, Lady? And when I am dead, you may have it, if you will, to remember me by."
Arwen reached blindly for Elessar's hand, tears stinging her eyes. "I will have someone look for it, Canohando. And I will take your homage gladly." She held out her hand to him, and he kissed it. Then he looked at the King, and without being sure if he wanted to or not, Elessar nonetheless held out his hand for the Orc to kiss.
They left then and went down to dinner, and it was a very silent meal.
"It is almost like having Frodo here again," the King said at last. "How can that be? They cut their hands and let their blood run together -- so do lads everywhere, I suppose, in the throes of their first real friendship -- and somehow they became brothers in sober truth! He has Frodo's eyes."
"They were not lads," said Arwen. "And they were alike in something else, my love: both had been bound to Darkness, Canohando from birth, Frodo because he carried the Ring, and they both fought their way free. That is why he has Frodo's eyes; he fought the same battle Frodo did, for his soul's freedom."
Elessar nodded slowly. "Frodo began from innocence and the Orc from depravity, but they reached the same place. And then they pledged their brotherhood, and it is more real than you sometimes see in sons of the same mother." He sighed. "I cannot put Frodo's brother to death for defending himself, not though he killed one of my own men in my very teeth! What am I to do with him?"
"Give him to me."
He smiled at her teasingly. "Should I be jealous, my sweet? What will you do with him?"
Arwen's laughter was lilting, like music. "Were you jealous of Frodo? I will make him my friend, as Frodo was, and Canohando will be more, for he will guard us with his life. Should another madman invade our hall as he did, that one will not get two steps past the door, before the Orc stops him!"
"He owes us a life."
"And is death the only way for him to pay the debt? There is such a thing as weregild, my King!"
Elessar chuckled. "I suppose I need not ask where an Orc will get the gold to pay it."
"You will give it to him, dearest, in payment for his service. The Guards of the Citadel do not serve for love alone; they receive their pay. Let Canohando's pay go to the family of the man he slew; that is justice. What the Orc hungers for, he cannot buy with money."
The King walked away to stare out the window. Workmen were visible in the distance, building a roofed platform just outside the gates of the Citadel. There would be a parade on the twenty-fifth of March, a little over two months away, and he and Arwen, with the chief men of Minas Tirith, would sit there to review it. From the great gates of the City, through all the winding streets, the parade would come to them, musicians and dancers and acrobats, the worthies of the city in their robes of dignity, little children carrying wreaths of flowers... One hundred twenty years of freedom, of the Kingdom restored, to be celebrated on the anniversary of the day the Ring went into the Fire.
He felt a sudden chill, a premonition. I will not be on that platform, he thought. My scroll is rolling up more quickly than that…
"What does Canohando hunger for, Arwen?" he asked.
She came to stand beside him, leaning on his shoulder and running her fingers through his hair. "What we all long for, my love. To know there is some meaning to it all."
The next morning was bright and clear, with a crisp wind sweeping down from the north. Elessar called for a horse and rode out with a few of his counselors to inspect the condition of the farmland and villages surrounding the city. It was not a morning for premonitions: the wind ruffled his hair and it was good to have a horse between his legs again. When they reached a broad harvest field that had not yet been ploughed, he called a challenge to his men and took off at a gallop across it.
He won the race, of course, and not because he was the King; he had schooled his followers long ago to throw their hearts into everything they did for him, even racing against him over a fallow field. But he did have the best horse; he always had the best horse. He thrust the eerie feeling of the day before to the back of his mind, but it was still there. He knew now that time was short, and he must make the most of it.
Dinner that night was a formal meal with a delegation from Annuminas, visiting Minas Tirith to give report on the year's harvest in the North Kingdom. The King had met with them many times over the past month, and on the morrow they would begin the return journey to their own land.
"We may pass Prince Eldarion on the road, Sire," one of them said cheerfully. "He expected to be leaving the North a week ago, and he does not favor slow travel!"
There was a general laugh at the King's table; Eldarion was known for his fast steeds and his impatience with delay. If he had left when he intended, they might confidently expect him within the next sennight, and Elessar breathed a silent thanks to the Powers. All the same, he sought out the head of the Annuminas delegation when the meal was over.
"If you pass my son on the road, I would have you tell him to make all the speed he can; I need him here. Also --" He hesitated, then decided to go on. "I wish you pass by Rivendell and carry a message from me to the Lord Elladan. See me before you leave on the morrow, and I shall have it ready for you."
He would not tell Arwen, not yet, but he would try to have her brothers on hand to comfort her. The letter he sent the next morning was brief:
Elladan and Elrohir, my Elf-brothers, greeting! Even to the race of Numenor death comes at last, and it will not pass me by. There are matters I would settle with you both, and your sister will need you. Dearest friends and brothers, I need you! Come to me soon, as you love your
Estel
He saw the men of Annuminas mounted and picking their way through the mid-morning throng in the streets of the Second Level. When he returned to the Palace he shut himself up in his study, filling his pipe while he tried to think what else must be done. Eldarion was as ready as any young prince can be, to take up the scepter. He had long carried his father's authority in the North, but he was sufficiently well-known here in Gondor. The sons of Elrond would advise him, and Arwen's presence would aid in the transition from the old King to the young one.
Arwen, oh Lady Undomiel! He bowed his head. This would be grievous for her; he wondered how he would dare to tell her, and yet he must! Perhaps she would go back to Rivendell with her brothers, after Eldarion was crowned. That might be the best thing for her...
He wished there were some gift he could make to her, now at the last. A parting token, one last proof of his devotion, his heart's love for his Elven Lady. Something to remember me by, he thought, echoing Canohando's words of two nights before, and then he smiled. No, someone to remember me by, and someone to shield you from all harm, if he can do so. At least I believe he will try! He strode out of the study and up to the nursery tower, taking the stairs two at a time in his haste.
The guards were alert before the locked door, he was glad to see, although he would soon make their duty unnecessary. One of them produced a key and opened the door for him. Inside were another four guardsmen; Falk was taking no chances! The Orc sat on the floor leaning against his bed, beating out a rhythm on a small carved drum, chanting softly in his own outlandish tongue. He set the drum aside and struggled to his feet -- his ankles were still chained, and he was awkward. He stood before Elessar without speaking.
The King nodded to the guardsmen. "You may wait outside the door, gentlemen. I would have private conversation with the prisoner."
"Majesty, it is not safe--" one of them said; his tone was respectful, but he looked ready to contest the matter to the day's end, no matter if it was his sovereign he addressed. Elessar raised his brows.
"Not safe? He is not armed, is he? And I have my sword; besides, he is in chains."
"All the same, Your Majesty. You saw him the other day in the hall -- he was not armed then, either! I beg you, let two of us at least remain for your safety. We will stand here by the door, with our fingers in our ears if it pleases you, so we will hear nothing."
The King smiled; it was insubordination, perhaps, but he could not be angry at this young man who showed such care for his monarch's safety! "So be it; out of your own mouth, my lad. Stand by the door with your fingers in your ears and keep watch. Only two of you; that will be sufficient." He turned to the Orc.
"I have decided what I will do with you, if you are willing."
Canohando looked perplexed. "If I am willing --! What will you do with me, King of Gondor?"
Elessar sat down on the bed. "You came to find the Elf-queen, and you found her. You told me you wish to follow after and protect her; do you hold to those words?"
The Orc put his right fist against his heart. "As I live, I hold to them, lord! I would die ten times over, to keep her safe!"
"Very well. I will take you at your word -- and only because you are Frodo's brother, will I trust in you! I will give your life into the hands of the Lady whose jewel you wear, and you will repay me by being her shadow, her protector, as long as you both live. Will you do this?"
Canohando's face shone as if a fire had been lit within. "Truly, King of Gondor! I will never leave her, while I live!"
"While you both live," Elessar corrected him, his voice somber. "If the Lady takes leave of this world, and not by your failure in guarding her, then you are free from this oath. She chose mortality, with me; she will not live endlessly, as the Eldar do."
The King did not wait for the next Audience Day; there was not time. He proclaimed a full audience to take place in two days, to pass judgment on the Orc who had invaded the Throne Room of Gondor. As he expected, the Hall was packed and a great crowd stood without the doors on the day announced.
Canohando was led into the Hall chained hand and foot, guarded by twenty men in the livery of the Citadel. When they reached the dais, someone pushed down hard on his shoulders, and he fell to his knees.
The King's voice echoed above him. "This Orc entered our Hall a week since, without our leave... slew one of my men. For this act, his life is forfeit..."
Canohando kept his eyes cast down. You take my life with one breath, and with the next you will give me all that I desire, he thought. The Kings of Men are a strange breed.
"...there was no weapon found upon the Orc... he took a man's life, but plainly he did not come with the intent to kill..."
There was a shout from the back of the room, "Death to the Orc!" Canohando stiffened, waiting for others to take up the cry, but no one did. The room was hushed, and only the King's voice rolled on, making the defense the Orc would not have thought of making for himself.
"A man may defend himself if he is under attack. Yet the Guardsman was doing his duty, protecting his sovereigns from an intruder..."
The man standing next to Canohando shifted his feet, and the Orc wondered what he was thinking. It was your comrade I slew. If you had been a little quicker, it might have been you! How will you like the King's justice this day?
"Very soon we will celebrate the New Year, the hundred-and-twentieth since Kingship returned to Gondor. The Ring-bearer has passed into legend, and there are few of us who remember him as he really was. The Orc you see here is one of the few. For I tell you, the Ring-bearer went back to Mordor, after the War. He went again to that dark land to bring healing there, and he found three Orcs who had survived the Fall of Sauron..."
Is Ninefingers truly only a legend to these people? Oh my runt, I would you were here with me now! Why did I not seek you sooner? The Orc straightened his shoulders, fighting to keep his face expressionless.
"...wears the Jewel that your Queen gave to the Ring-bearer. For that reason he came here to find the Lady whose jewel he wears... if he had asked to approach the Throne, would he have been permitted? The people of Gondor have ample reason to hate Orcs."
There was a roar from the crowd, catcalls and feet stamping, and the King waited for the room to quiet. Will they allow you to spare my life, King of Gondor? No one dared a word when the Witch King spoke, but your people are free with their tongues...
"...threw down the sword and let himself be taken, without resistance... expected to die in torment, for that is the way of the only Masters he has ever known. It is not the way of this Kingdom! The Orc has killed a good man, a brave man, and for that he must make payment with his life -- but not with his death."
The room was dead silent.
"This is a brave warrior, and he is devoted to the Lady whose jewel he wears. Therefore I give him to his Lady, to be her protector and true knight, and from today he is one of the Guards of the Citadel."
But at these words pandemonium broke out, cries of "Death! Death!," and the men who guarded Canohando drew close around him and turned to face the crowd with their hands ready on their swords. The King waited impassively, and Canohando watched him in awe.
You will have your way in spite of them all, lord! They are not afraid to shout, but your will is stronger than theirs, and you will bend them to it.
When silence returned, Elessar spoke again, and his voice was low but it penetrated to every part of the room. "For what will you have his life? Because he is an Orc? Which one of you, attacked with the sword and already wounded, would not try to defend himself? What is justice for a man is justice for an Orc as well!"
Then the King was descending the stairs of the dais, standing before Canohando. "Get up," he said. "Turn around." When the Orc was facing the crowd, Elessar went forward to a little knot of people who stood off to one side, a young woman and an elderly couple, and three young children. He led them to stand before the Orc.
"This is the family of the man you slew," he said, his voice ringing from the walls. "This woman you left widowed, these children fatherless, these parents bereft of their son..."
She reminds me of Lokka! And the cubs -- no, they are not like Yargark and Frodo-orc, but I remember when Lash's sons were small like that --
"... you shall be reckoned the pay of a Guard of this Citadel, but your pay shall be given, every coin of it, to this family you have wronged... your life, which was forfeit, we give to you again, on condition that you spend it in the service of the Elf-queen you came here to find."
The Orc knelt once more and kissed the King's hands, and two Guardsmen came forward to strike the chains from his wrists and ankles. One would not look at him, but the other met his eyes, and Canohando saw that this man, at least, was content with the King's justice. He followed them to a side chamber, and they clad him in the black and silver uniform of the Citadel, but his head was too large for the helmet provided, and he was forced to go bareheaded. Then they led him back to stand again before the dais, but they fell back and he was alone, facing the King and the Queen on their thrones, and the Queen's jewel glittered against his chest.
Arwen rose in her place, and she was slender and shining as a shaft of light, her dark hair streaming over her shoulders. "From the beginning, Orcs have been the enemies of Elves and of Men," she cried, and her voice was like truesilver, clear and musical. "Now in these latter days, one Orc walks among us who is not an enemy. He has done a wrong, but he shall make amends for that by service and by weregild. This reparation he takes upon himself willingly and with a true heart. Let not the people of Gondor show themselves less noble-minded than Canohando the Orc!"
There was a moment of breathless quiet; then a voice cried, "Long live the Queen!" The Hall broke into a jubilation of shouts and huzzahs, and the King and Queen stood before their thrones, holding out their hands to their people.
Lokka, a woman of Nurn, was wife to Lash the Orc and mother of his sons, Yargark and Frodo-orc. From Following the Other Wizard: Journey into Healing