Chapter Text
Of course, it wasn’t long after Arondir decided to feign some form of acceptance that everything changed. At first, Arondir thought it was just him. He couldn’t place why he felt uneasy. Then he realized that this same feeling seemed to permeate the environment. He hadn’t realized how accustomed he’d grown to the day-to-day life of the village, but everything was different. The uruks were tense. Though they never went out of their way to speak to Arondir, nor vice versa, Arondir suddenly realized that their chatter amongst themselves had always been boisterous. Now it was subdued. They muttered amongst themselves in hushed tones. Usually, it was in Black Speech, which Arondir could only understand a few words of. But over time, he caught repeated references to Sauron and some king of the Southlands.
Adar was different, too. He wasn’t sleeping as easily. For as long as Arondir had been bound to the alpha, he couldn’t remember a time when the alpha had tossed and turned. Now, it was happening with frequency, and there were times when Arondir woke in the middle of the night to find the space next to him empty and already cold. Even more worrisome was that Arondir could sometimes sense that the other elf wasn’t just concerned but afraid.
If circumstances had been different, Arondir might have tried to exploit it. But the mention of Sauron made him uneasy. The elves had believed that Sauron was either dead or far too weak to be a threat. Adar had told Arondir that he had killed Sauron. Yet, if Adar and the uruks were worried about Sauron, surely it didn’t bode well for anyone in Middle Earth.
Arondir was a soldier. He wasn’t used to inaction unless it had a purpose. He’d been fine with having no duties or tasks during his captivity because it meant he could survey the village and look for opportunities to escape. But now...now, he didn’t know what to do. He was still captive, yet there was a new threat...possibly...in all likelihood...and he knew nothing about it. He couldn’t prepare for it because he knew nothing about it other than vague whisperings.
Adar hadn’t confided in Arondir about whatever had happened to make him so uneasy, and Arondir wasn’t certain how to broach the topic. It wasn’t as though Arondir had anything he could say that would comfort Adar. He wasn’t even sure if comforting the alpha was what he wanted to do; he just wanted to know what was going on.
Arondir waited until yet another night when he woke up alone to confront Adar. The wooden floor was cold under his feet as he walked across it and into the living area. The room was dark, the fire bathing it in a dull orange glow. Adar was seated in front of the fireplace. He’d been staring into it before Arondir entered, but he glanced up at the omega’s entrance. The alpha looked exhausted. His face was haggard, and his eyes seemed dim. Whether or not it was Arondir’s imagination, the scars on Adar’s face seemed to stand out more than usual.
He remained silent as Arondir crossed the room to drop into the chair next to him. Then, “Well, what is it? Couldn’t you sleep?”
Arondir shook his head. “I was worried about you.” The words felt strange on his tongue, though they were true in a way. Just not the way that others would typically mean them. He could tell by Adar’s narrowed eyes that the alpha found them equally strange.
“Is that so?” Adar’s voice was rife with skepticism.
Arondir knew that feigning affection would lead him nowhere. “You’ve said you were a prisoner before. Surely you can understand why I would be worried about your change in behavior.”
Perhaps it wasn’t the type of explanation most would want, but it was true, and Arondir thought it would do more to lower Adar’s guard than if Arondir’s feelings toward him had inexplicably and suddenly changed.
“Ah.” Adar’s expression cleared. He still looked quite grim, but less suspicious. Arondir didn’t think he was necessarily please with Arondir’s motivations, but they were ones the alpha could understand. “You needn’t fear. I have no desire to harm you. I just…couldn’t sleep.”
“Then you’ve been unable to sleep a lot lately”
“Mmm.” Adar grunted noncommittally.
Arondir waited a moment, but Adar didn’t elaborate. “Why do the uruks speak of Sauron and a King of the Southlands?”
Adar turned his face away to look into the fire. Even in the dim light, Arondir could tell that the alpha’s body had grown tense. When Adar replied, his voice was terse, inviting no further discussion. “It’s nothing you need concern yourself with.”
Arondir could see that Adar’s hands were gripping the arms of his chair tightly, as if he were just barely holding in his…anger? Fear? Arondir wasn’t sure, but everything in him screamed that he should let the topic drop. But he had come this far and hadn’t found out anything. “The uruks are concerned. And if Sauron has returned-”
“Sauron has not returned!” Adar snapped, his voice rising to nearly a shout, and swiveled his head back to glare at Arondir. “Sauron is dead.”
Arondir let the silence reign between them for a moment before he asked quietly, “Then why are the uruks worried about him?”
Adar made a sound that was something between a growl and a sigh. He rose to his feet so suddenly, that Arondir half expected him to round on Arondir in anger. But instead, the alpha stalked past him toward the cabin door. “It’s late. You should go back to bed. Try to get some sleep.”
“Is that what you’re going to do?” Arondir pressed, despite his instinct telling him to let the alpha leave.
“No. Not yet. I have things to attend to.”
“Things that can’t wait until morning?”
But Adar didn’t spare so much as a glance backward, let alone answer, as he left the cabin. Arondir waited up for a while, but the alpha didn’t return. Eventually, omega did go back to bed.
He didn’t mean to sleep; he lay awake for a few hours mulling over the conversation and how to proceed. But at some point he must have at least let his mind drift because he suddenly became aware that something had changed since he had lain down. Something that made him uneasy: It was quiet.
Ever since Arondir had been brought to the village, there had been a steady flow of noise. There were always some uruks awake going about their business. The uruks kept various animals, such as horses, dogs, and wargs, and these would let out the occasional sound. And always, always there was the sounds of the human captives in fear and pain. Now, the sounds of the captives was gone. All the other sounds remained, but the only humans Arondir could hear were those who had followed Adar willingly and were free to move about the camp as they chose.
With a lump in his throat, Arondir leapt up and changed as quickly as he could. His mind raced with possible explanations, but each seemed unlikely. The only reason Adar would have killed a large enough number of captives to make it this quiet would be if there had been a widespread revolt. But Arondir wouldn’t have slept through the noise of that. He supposed Adar could have sent the humans to other villages; Arondir knew the uruks had begun to spread out across the Southlands. But it was unlikely Adar would have sent all of the humans away.
Arondir focused on the bond between him and the alpha and followed it through the camp to where he knew the alpha was. He trudged past the homes and the makeshift forges the uruks had built, past the stables, until he came to the area the humans were kept. The ground here was uneven, and the shelters were either in disrepair or had been put together hastily. The uruks had claimed the better parts of the village; these shelters were just to keep the humans from dying of exposure to the elements. It wasn’t a pleasant sight, and now it was eerily quiet.
Arondir usually avoided this area. Early in his captivity he had tried to enter it to see if he could disobey Adar’s command. But each time and uruk had blocked his path. The same was true this time, though there were fewer guards.
The uruk that stood in front of him had pallid grey skin and yellow eyes. He was shorter and thinner than Arondir. He was armed, though he didn’t draw his blade. Arondir didn’t recognize him, but then that wasn’t strange.
“Adar said not to allow you through.” The uruk’s voice was rough, almost a growl, but Arondir had been around uruks long enough to realize this was likely just how the uruk naturally sounded. The uruk didn’t seem to hold any particular anger or suspicion toward Arondir; he was simply stating a fact.
“I just want to talk to him.” Arondir told him. “Can’t you take me to him?”
The uruk shook his head. “I’m sorry, but he’s given orders not to be disturbed.”
“I…” Arondir reflected that arguing with the uruk was unlikely to do much. The uruks wouldn’t disobey Adar, and if Arondir tried to push past this guard, all he would succeed in doing was attracting the attention of others and being dragged away. “What happened to the humans?”
The uruk’s face twisted into an expression of disapproval. “Adar let them go.”
“What? Why?”
It didn’t make sense. Arondir had tried all he could to convince Adar to release his prisoners, but it had been useless. Neither reason nor attempts to bargain would change Adar’s mind. It hadn’t been a mere whim on Adar’s part. The alpha viewed imprisoning the Southlanders as a necessity, both to maintain control of the land and to keep a source of farm labor. For Adar to simply reverse his decision was inexplicable.
“Some deal with the king of the Southlands.” The uruk said in a tone that made it clear he didn’t agree with Adar’s decision.
“King of the…there is no king of the Southlands! There has been for…I don’t know how many years!” Arondir had been stationed in the Southlands for decades. True he’d never studied the history as thoroughly as others, but he knew that the last members of the royal family had died or dispersed. Even were some long lost descendant to reappear, there would be no way for them to prove their identity.
The uruk shook his head. “Well, there must be one. He turned himself in, and Adar’s talking to him now. You’ll need to ask Adar anything else. When he’s finished.”
Arondir thanked the uruk and retreated far enough away that he wouldn’t attract attention but close enough that he could swiftly intercept Adar the moment the alpha reentered the main village. He was determined not to let the alpha avoid him or brush off his questions. What little Arondir had learned had only heightened his sense of unease. The fact that Adar had to know Arondir was waiting for him but hadn’t come to meet him didn’t make it easier to be patient, especially as time dragged on.
Five minutes passed. Then ten. Finally, almost an hour, and still Adar showed no sign of leaving the area. The sun was high in the sky, and Arondir was beginning to consider whether he should try to get more information out of the uruk he’d spoken to, or even ask questions of another, when there was a blood-curdling scream from the area the humans had been kept.
This wouldn’t have been unusual yesterday, but with the Southlanders released, it cut through what had been a relatively peaceful day. The uruks around him paused in their activities. There was a brief silence followed by the sound of uruk guards shouting to each other, also from the direction of the humans’ shelters. Some uruks turned to head toward the center of the village, where there would be safety in numbers. Arondir leapt up to join the other ones, the ones rushing toward the noise. Once they got to the edge of the prison area, the crowd halted, staying at the edge as though uncertain of how to proceed.
Arondir pushed through them until he was at the front. Once there, the reason for their hesitation was clear. Fenrir was unchained and darted back and forth around the area as a group of guards shouted commands at him. The warg paid them no heed; instead, he seemed to rather enjoy the chaos. Without a chain, he could have easily run off into the woods, but he kept to the immediate area. Like a dog playing a game, he would halt by a shelter and wait just long enough for the uruks to get close before he’d run away again.
Arondir took a step forward, moving away from the crowd. “Fenrir!” He called out. “Come here!”
The warg’s head swiveled to look at him, and his excitement seemed to grow. He leapt over the guards closing in on him and all but pranced in Arondir’s direction. Fenrir’s tail wagged back and forth vigorously as he approached. Finally, he dropped something at Arondir’s feet and sat down on the ground, looking up at Arondir as though he expected to be pet or praised.
Arondir reached out a hand to rub the warg’s head. “Good...” He trailed off as he looked down at what the warg had dropped.
As if Fenrir thought Arondir had misunderstood, the warg bent down to nudge it a bit closer. It rolled on the ground so that the face was looking up. It was disfigured with bitemarks, but Arondir knew what it was. He was looking down at Waldreg’s head.