AN:I use The Encyclopedia of Arda regularly. We aren't saying that they would spend less time on looking for a half-Elven. We met merely that Mirima feels that way. Later in the story, the same thing is brought up, by Erestor I believe. I don't quite recall. Sorry for the confusion this may have presented. Savejonny, we truly thank you for the review. It means bunches. Your words go straight to my heart, and I am sure they do for Lioness, too. We will endeavor to do the line thing. I'll even go back and fix the previous chapters, at some point. Thanks!
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After a few days of traveling by day through dense forest and by river, the Orcs had put many miles between themselves and Imladris. The had not gone as far as they could have traveling at night only, but the Uruk-hai demanded they move by day. They were all drenched from the constant rain that started the morning after taking Esterasúle. They were not in the best of moods.
She was carried during travel and left in the corner of the Uruk's hut-like tent during camp. She sat huddled up in that corner as the Uruk entered and threw a bowl of stew down for her. He did not give her a spoon. "Eat," he demanded. He was tired of her just sitting there, and he was tired of carting her around. She did not act as he felt an elf should.
Esterasúle looked at the stew but made no move to eat it. She knew, from bits of conversations she heard, that she was needed alive. She was not going to make it easy on them. She had no reason to live. So, she had no reason to eat. The stew sat before her untouched.
He stalked over to her and roughly grabbed her nose. He was sick of her, period. She jerked back, angling her head so she could bite into his palm. He grunted in pain but did not let go. She glared up at him. He glared back. "You are trying my patience. You will eat if I have to force it down you."
"Try," she hissed at him. Her first word since being carted from the battle field. She was going to either kill herself or make them kill her no matter what she had to do to get the results she wanted.
He forced open her mouth and put the bowl to her lips. She spit out more than she swallowed. They both ended up wearing remnants of the stew. He growled displeased. "If you do not eat, I will let them have their way with you." He expected that to work. Elves faded when violated, especially by Orcs.
She looked him in the eye, her own very hard. "I'm dead either way." She was daring him to follow through with his threat.
He eyed her. "You would be violated again and again rather than eat a bowl of stew?" He wondered if all Elves were so crazy. He could not understand why she did not just eat the stew and be done with it.
"I want nothing you would give to me." Though proud, she wanted to die and be done. Him counting on her to be humiliated by being taken by so many Orcs backfired. She glared at him defiantly.
"You will eat one way or another." He moved away from her so he would not hit her. He would not damage his master's goods unless he had to.
She could see he was having trouble controlling himself. "You are weak to be so easily baited into violence." She admitted to herself, that jibe could go both ways. He would either not react to show he was not weak, or he would react as she wanted and fight back. The result was not the one she wanted.
He did not reply to her jibe. He simply growled as he sat down to his own food, eating heartily before her. She frowned, looking down at the smelly stew she wore. She also had a nasty after taste from the vile stuff. She wondered how he could so readily eat the concoction. Then, she reasoned it was because he was an Orc.
Sitting in 'her' corner, she casually looked at her surroundings. She searched for any means of escape or a way to kill herself. Killing herself outright was a last resort, but she felt she may have to do it to keep herself from being used for something likely evil. Though, she was uncertain if she owed anyone besides herself, her family, and the Valar enough to prevent them using her.
From where he sat, eyeing her out of the corner of his eye, the Uruk noticed her surveying her surroundings. He would be happy to have her off his hands, and was glad the second had been killed. However, he had to see her to his master and could not allow her to run and likely be killed for doing so by the Orcs. "Do not think it," he advised, not turning to face her.
"You know not what I think, Uvanimo," she spat. The Quenya term was lost on him, she knew, but to her he was a monster. She had no doubts he would know it was an insult.
"You wish to escape. If you try, even I won't be able to keep you safe." She was right. He did know it as an insult but ignored it.
She wrinkled her nose slightly at his audacity. He was quite confident and egotistical. "I wish to kill myself and be done with it." Slowly, she stood, glaring at him. Up until then, she had made no movement on her own. He always had to carry her. He was glad to see he would not now. If she could stand and mouth off, she could walk.
"I'm afraid that isn't an option for you." He would not allow her to. She was needed by his master and would be delivered alive and well.
"You will not protect me from the Orcs long enough. The will grow tired of having me around." Surely he was not fool enough to think he could handle them all, alone.
"I am in charge. They will not touch you." Had he been anyone else, she would have been moved by that declaration. "They know what will happen." His voice was threatening.
"They are not smart but bright enough. Don't be stupid yourself and think they will not gang up on you. All Orc are the same. Hideous creatures that need wiped from Arda." She glared at him, ignoring whatever it was she saw pass through his eye. She threw out a final jab. "No matter they be lowly or the 'great' Uruk-hai."
He looked at her fully. "Your mouth will be your end." Could she not shut up?
"You do not frighten me. I am above you and your kind," she retorted with a superior air.
He snorted at her. She was a piece of work. Did she not grasp the position she was in? Did she seek death that much, that quickly? "Think what you wish. I care not." Only, her constant diatribe was starting to hit home.
"At least Elves and Men do not need a master." 'Most Men,' she added to herself. "We have our own minds, our own will. Orcs, Uruk are broken, weak."
"Enough!" He had listened to her for more than long enough. He knew he had when her words started making sense, he started having doubts about himself. "You will sit and be silent!"
"I will not!" She did not back down as he stood and loomed over her.
The Uruk grabbed her throat. He glared into her face, trying to be as intimidating as possible. "You will," he snarled at her.
"Not, she added defiantly, her voice cracking as it was forced out. He was starting to act how she wanted. She only needed to push him a little more. She glared at him with hard, fiery eyes, daring him to do something, anything.
"If that is your wish." He threw her to the ground. Then, he found some rope, binding her hands and feet. He also stuffed a cloth in her mouth, tying it securely around her head. She glared at him, fighting him, landing a few good but uneffective blows. He smirked at once she was bound. She kicked out at him with her bound legs, aiming for his ankles
"I would rest if I were you. There is a long road ahead." She had no intention of walking anywhere, and he had no intention of carrying her. She kicked at him again. He snorted and returned to his own devices, leaving her lying there.