~ Sidra tries lembas, and later Nugu tells a bit more of how he grew up. ~

25. An Uruk-hai's Childhood

During the afternoon the rain finally subsided, allowing their clothes and packs to dry. The sky was still overcast, however, and the pregnant clouds looked like they might release the rest of their contents any time.

Wynne rode in silence, purposely staying last in line to avoid having to talk to anyone. The conversation with Sidra about her mother and marriages had painfully reminded Wynne of her predicament. Somehow she had managed to forget about her task for quite some time, but now the worry from before returned. What would Mother do when she returned without an elf husband?

After everything that had happened, Wynne found that she actually didn't fear Mother's anger so much any longer. What was the worst the woman could do? She would pierce Wynne with her ice cold eyes and scold her with hurtful remarks. Perhaps punish her physically. But Wynne had been face to face with orcs now, stabbed by one and kidnapped by two. She could handle pain, and as for piercing stares nobody could compete with Thranduil in that department.

No, she didn't really fear her mother anymore, but instead there were new concerns. Mother would marry Wynne off to somebody or their branch of the Örn House would die, which she was not likely to allow. The prospect of becoming matched with a random Rohirrim lord was disturbing. How could she endure a loveless marriage of convenience now that she knew how it felt to like someone?

The horses trudged on patiently and the surroundings became even more barren. Almost nothing grew here and the ground consisted of naked bedrock with rough gravel and patches of lichen.

They began to follow a stream, making short breaks every now and then to catch some of the sleek, spotted trout that swam downstream, possibly on their way to the Anduin. Apparently most water that formed in these hills either ended up there, or in the Dead Marshes down south.

"How long until we reach your friends?" Thranduil asked Nugu during one such stop.

"Not much longer. But it's hard to estimate when on horseback." Nugu didn't meet his gaze and seemed very interested in watching Nodir and Bronedir, who stood on either side of the brook, armed with sharpened sticks and ready to spear any unsuspecting fish passing by.

"Yes, not long," Sidra agreed. She was toying with a loose thread on the hem of her tunic.

Thranduil's sharp eyes didn't miss anything. "You seem nervous."

"No I'm not," she replied, a little too fast.

"What did you expect," growled her husband. "We're bringing death to our friends."

"I told you we shall not harm them. Unless they are hostile, of course."

"I know the likes of you. Whatever they do will be deemed as hostility." Nugu finally looked straight at him, dark eyes flashing. "But don't worry. We shall take you to my friends."

He emphasized the last two words in a way Wynne didn't like. What did he mean? Were there no friendly orcs; had Sidra made that up? If so, that could explain why she seemed so uncomfortable.

But why would they lie about something like that? It would do them no good at all. The elves would eventually realize they weren't going anywhere and kill them. No, Nugu had probably told the truth. They were about to expose their friends' hiding place and that was enough to make anyone feel anxious.

oOo

In the evening the clouds made good on their threat and discharged their wet load in a persistent, heavy rain. At least it was still warm – not like the day before, but tolerably.

They ate dinner on the go, still on horseback, as nobody cared much for sitting on the wet ground. The trout could wait until morning.

"This lembas food is not bad," Sidra said to Wynne. "But I think I would get tired of it in the long run. I prefer a little more... oomph."

Wynne bit her lip to avoid laughing and met Legolas' eye. He failed to hide his smirk.

"I agree," she managed. "But elves are very fond of it. It's basically the only thing they eat, I've heard."

"Did I say something funny?" Sidra curiously looked from one to the other. Before they could answer, she smiled knowingly. "Never mind."

Not long afterwards they found a good spot to camp under a copse of short evergreen trees Wynne didn't know the name of. They hurried to put up the tents in the steady rain.

"We can't take your tent again." Sidra had donned a long, gray coat with wide arms. Its surface was shiny, coated with some sort of grease or oil, and it seemed to work well to keep her dry.

"But you have children," Wynne objected.

Nugu joined them, wearing a similar coat as his wife. "You ladies share it. I'm a soldier. I can sleep anywhere." His hood covered his eyes, and with his towering height and muscular frame it gave him a slightly menacing look. Wynne could easily picture him on the battlefield and hoped he would never be her enemy.

"Alright then. But I will feel lonely without you." Sidra stood on her toes and gave her husband a long kiss.

Wynne looked away in embarrassment first but then her curiosity kicked in and she stole a peek. The couple's lips moved together like they tried to eat each other, but rather than looking appalling it was sensual. The sight stirred something within Wynne and she swiftly memorized the procedure for future use in her daydream

Sharing a tent with Sidra was snug and cozy despite the childrens' limbs sprawling all over the place and their mother almost immediately beginning to snore. It felt good to have company.

Wynne was on the verge of drowsing off too when she heard voices outside. It was Nugu and Nodir, the latter presumably beginning the first watch, discussing the rain and whether the shape of the clouds was a sign it was diminishing or not. Then they fell silent.

"You are a quiet one, are you not," Nodir said after a while.

"Don't have much to say." A few moments later, he added: "I was taught chit-chat is a waste of time."

"By whom? Saruman?"

"No, not him, he would never stoop to bother with kids. Not until we were big enough to fight for him." He paused again. "I was brought up by orcs."

"I do not envy you."

"It wasn't all bad. Some of them were decent."

"Were you a warrior for a long time?" Nodir seemed intrigued by what the uruk-hai shared.

Wynne was equally interested and hardly dared breathing in case she missed something. She didn't feel guilty for eavesdropping. Nugu must know the thin tent walls couldn't keep his voice out the slightest.

"No. I think I was twelve when they sent me on my first mission, and about a year later the wizard was defeated. So... yeah, one year."

"Twelve! You were a mere child." He sounded shocked.

"I was tall for my age and the war drew near. Saruman was in a hurry to get his army ready. Most were older when they enrolled but if you had matured early... Well, age was just not their priority, I suppose."

"Were you not scared?"

"Not really. They gave us potions to make us feel brave. And angry."

"Were you in the Battle of Helm's Deep?"

"Yeah."

"You were lucky to survive then. Prince Legolas fought there too and he told stories about it."

"I'd rather forget."

"I guess being on the winning side is more glamorous."

"There is no glamor in war. None," he growled.

Wynne's throat tightened. She could picture Nugu, only a young boy, experiencing such frightful things as she knew about too now. Severed bodies, shrill shrieks of pain, the ground a mess of blood and entrails. That sickening smell of hurt and death.

He would have been in the middle of it, carrying a sword himself and being forced to push it into living bodies. For her own part, the elves had shielded her from the worst, making sure she was not coming closer until they had cleared away the corpses. No wonder Nugu had sworn never to kill again.

The War of the Ring had ended ten years ago and that meant Nugu was still only twenty-three. Only three years older than herself.

The realization made her feel sick.

"Don't look at me like that," Nugu muttered sourly; Nodir must have displayed similar emotions as Wynne felt. "I was hardly the first boy in history to be sent to war, was I? Your lot killed scores of us. You didn't show pity then."

Neither of them spoke for a while, then Nodir broke the silence a final time. "I agree with you, war is an appalling business. I fought in the Battle of the Five Armies some decades back and I hated it. And as for our mission now... Let me just say, I am glad it shall be over soon."

Nodir's confession surprised Wynne. She had thought her companions took at least some pleasure in killing orcs, but apparently he didn't. Maybe none of them did, deep down?

It went quiet again but Wynne had got a lot to think about. If Nugu was telling the truth, he and the other uruk-hai had never had a choice. They had been brought up to be warriors, drugged and sent into battle with no other option than to obey.

Everybody said orcs were evil monsters. But were they really? Under such circumstances, was it even possible to make "good" choices?

The thought was disturbing. What if this whole quest was wrong, and the elves were the ones who did something bad? They had hunted orcs all spring, unprovokedly ambushing them when they slept in their lairs.

But no, the elves had not attacked first. Orcs from the Brown Lands had been waylaying wanderers and raided homesteads for years, and the assault near the giant deer were certainly not forced upon those orcs. They were free of Sauron and Saruman since a long time but still preferred to kill, rape, steal and maim when they could have lived peacefully out there in the wilderness. Those orcs clearly had been wrongdoers who deserved to be punished.

Still, the orc race must be more complex than anybody had thought; they were clearly not born evil.

Realizing this made Wynne hugely relieved her friends hadn't killed Nugu or his children. That would have been an act of evil that could never be reversed.

A/N:

A note about Saruman's uruk-hai breeding... Like I mentioned before, being a biologist I never liked Peter Jackson's idea in the movies that they were grown from mud. :) Of course Saruman paired humans and orcs the natural way. As for their age, he had – according to the book – been breeding uruk-hai for a long time. Probably some were older, veteran warriors, and others young like Nugu.

The use of children in war sadly happens in our world as well. They are kidnapped when very small (4-5 or so), brainwashed and pumped full of drugs to make them dependent on their captors – and fearless.

Image Credits:

Made by Juan Hernandez. Source: https://blenderartists.org/t/uruk-hai-soldier/1146297