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"We'll talk again."
Taking his greatsword back into his gloved hand, Adar walked around and stepped outside the tent.
Left alone, chained to her chair, Galadriel did not move, exhausted, letting her breathing slow down, gradually freeing herself from this long moment of confrontation and tension. In this dimly lit place reigned a thick smell and in front of her, the table overflowing with victuals left for the most part untouched made her feel nauseous. She shook her wrist and the sinister sound of metal resonated. Several times, she tried to free herself by pulling with all her strength and turning her hand in all directions but the large iron ring was indeed definitively closed on her.
She remembered the low, hoarse voice that had almost whispered to her that she had not been brought here as a prisoner. Lie! Prisoner she was. And would remain so unless she granted his demand to know everything about Sauron.
The muffled noises from outside reached her, growls, the guttural cries of Orcs, the clanking of weapons. Suddenly, footsteps were heard. The canvas that closed the tent was brutally lifted and three Orcs entered. She stiffened in her chair.
But, surprisingly, none of the Orcs looked at her. They approached and stopped at the table; while letting out slight grunts, they methodically cleared the table of all the remains of meat, fruits and other food left there, which they placed in two large bags brought with them. Once the table was empty, they left, limping. The last one to leave, however, quickly turned towards her just before folding back the canvas. Galadriel who had watched the scene, stunned, fixed her gaze on him. The silent Orc kept his eyes on her, with a sad and almost reproachful air, she thought strangely. No, it couldn't be, she told herself and at the same moment, the Orc disappeared from her sight and the tent closed.
When leaving the tent, Adar had felt impatient, angry and… hungry! He had learned a lot but not everything he expected from her. But time was on his side. Next time, he would try again to make her talk, in his own way, without rushing her. She had shown herself to be sensitive to his gentle manners.
But for now, he had something to do.
He walked towards a part of the camp a little further away. The Orcs he passed by stopped in their actions and watched him pass with respect, greeting him "Adar, Adar, our Lord- Father ".
He quickly reached a sort of enclosure inside which several braziers were continuously burning and around which a dozen Orcs were busy. The smell was greasy, harsh, fetid, a mixture of smoke, ashes and what would serve as food. For anyone other than an Orc or Adar, the sight was filthy: here and there pieces of carcasses of different animals (or beings?) littered the ground, some still bloody, others pieces still smoking had been taken out of the large cauldrons to be lined up on boards, the stench of blood escaped from stained buckets, the ground soaked with various organic liquids was slippery.
The Orcs, his children, had to be fed all the time. They ate everything they could find that even Men could never eat.
Adar rarely came to this place, so they all stopped as soon as they saw him approaching and greeted him. He returned their greeting and went towards one of them.
The Orc watching Adar coming towards him had a worried look. Taking it upon himself, he dared to question him: "So, Lord-Father?"
Adar stared at the ground for a moment, then looked up and said to the Orc, "She wouldn't eat anything."
The Orc's shoulders slumped a little. His gaze grew sad.
Adar stepped forward and put his right hand on his shoulder. “I came to thank you. I know how much efforts it took to prepare a meal like this in such a short time. You and the others go get what was left and share it among yourselves. You deserve it. These Elves really don’t know how to appreciate your dedication.”
The Orc motioned to the others and said a few words to them. Two of them took bags and followed the one who started to walk away.
“Ah, one thing, my children,” said Adar. They turned around.
“When you enter the tent, do not look at her, do not touch her and do not say anything!”. They grunted in agreement. He followed them with his eyes.
“And save me the raspberries!”