A few days later, in the forests beyond Mirkwood, before the arrival of Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond.
"He's there… by the branches," the Orc hissed. "Well, what are we waiting for? Tear out his guts and send it to his Sire. Let it shake him awhile. It will be nice to kill the Elven King bit by bit, first his Queen, now his Prince, and finally all his elves. The Woodland King can reign over a land so black and parched that no life can exist there. From the Woodlands to the Deathlands," cackled the other Orc.
"Err….we do n…" the first Orc was knocked on the head before he could finish his sentence. "Do not interrupt me. I be your leader and you shall obey me after our Master," he commanded haughtily. The first Orc looked awhile and then nodded. Disobedience bade death by torture. "Best to just obey instructions," he decided. The last he had heard the Elven Queen had escaped from Sauron's clutches. And she had the seal with her. He had seen it in the Queen's hands when she had attacked them, surprising them from behind. She would have killed him as she had the other Orcs had he not turned tail and ran. At first, he had gone running to tell his leader after having escaped from her but had got knifed for having interrupted his leader's meal. Well, now, what would it matter who ruled? Worthless Orcs like him were meant to kill and be killed whether by elves, men, wizards or other Orcs.
If the Queen had escaped with the seal, and she had escaped, it would make Mirkwood much more difficult to conquer. The seals, forged in Thingol's court had been gifts to the young Elven prince and princess when their marriage had been decided. It was a gift from a ruler to a ruler. In the hands of the rightful ruler, it would protect and defend. Thranduil had earned his right as ruler of Mirkwood. So had the Queen. Nay, Sauron's doom was near. The seal's disappearance from Sauron's fort was proof of that. One by one, Sauron's allies were doomed to fall. "Well, it was not in his place to say. Who cared anyway?"
The Orc shrugged as he went to stand behind his leader. They would attack and surprise from behind, as they always did. The Prince was perched on the trees having a meal of fruits, staring off into the night sky. He looked sad. At least, the Orc thought he looked sad, like the elves when they realised the horrific fate that awaited them at Mordor. No, the elves at Mordor had not been sad. They had been beyond that. First bold, then desperate, then helpless and finally subdued as the last light went out of their eyes. None had died easy. Sauron had Azog to ensure that. Except for the Queen, Sauron could never succeed in vanquishing her. But Sauron refused to kill her either. Some Orcs had whispered amongst themselves that he was afraid of her. She had never shown her eyes to anyone, always looking down. He had chanced upon them once and had scurried away. So cold and fierce were they, ready to take a life, but lifeless, they had not been. She had never even uttered a single scream throughout the time she had been flogged or mutilated. Even when the blood had run down her legs, she had just stared.
"I said bring your scimitar down on his back as I take him in front. Were you listening, you blundering fool?" another knock hit the Orc's head. Swallowing a growl, he scampered after his leader. As his leader, jumped down in front of the tree and challenged Legolas to come down, he lifted his scimitar ready to attack.
The next few moments were a muddled confusion. His leader was on the grass, taken down by an arrow. He had turned to run but an arrow had caught his foot and he lay howling on the ground. It was just an arrow but the pain was burning as if a serpent had sunk his fangs in. He looked up and saw four soldiers wearing the colours of the Elven King approaching. They had tried to kill his son and had failed. As he fell to the ground, the Orc was grateful that he lost consciousness and wished he would never regain it.