Chapter 8 – "To Orc or Not To Orc"

Afterwards, when she looked back on it, Penny felt faintly ridiculous. The others had been concerned about what was happening away in the near-distance, of course (the situation had been serious, if not wholly unexpected), but, Penny scolded herself, they had coped with it without breaking down and losing all control of themselves. Her sobbing, which continued for a little while even after the few audible screams and roars of dying orcs had faded into the night, had been heard by others and Elrond had come to see if all was well.

“It is over now, Pen-ii, you need not fear. They will not come anywhere near us. It was a small group only and easily dealt with.”

This was the warrior who had faced the hordes in Mordor itself and lived to tell the tale, Penny reminded herself. What were a few measly orcs without Sauron to guide them to him? Child's play!

Penny nodded, sniffed and wiped her nose on the cloth she had in her hand - an old piece of pyjama leg, long since torn into strips and rags for sundry uses (thus following the tradition Halbarad had started). She was already beginning to feel a bit of a fool.

“I am sorry,” she muttered, suddenly unable to look him in the eye. “It was just when I heard the shouts...” She winced and shuddered involuntarily.

“I understand,” Elrond was saying gently. He knew well enough how terrifying orcs could sound to those who had never heard them before, and Penny knew enough both from her prior knowledge and the tales she had since heard to know what orcs were capable of. She had every right to be scared.

“We all do," he continued. "You have never had to face such a situation before. We are… more used to such things, perhaps.”

He was being careful in the words he chose. He was well aware there was a limit to what he could say in company. He also understood, though, that hearing those cries had brought a reality into focus that she had not had to deal with since the attempted attacks on Imladris, and in some senses not even then. Then the would-be attackers had never got anywhere past the outlying boundaries, here they had been so close as to be audible.

Orcs, just as himself, Gandalf, the hobbits or even Middle-earth itself had been, were just as imagined and unreal for her. It was not simply the fear of the situation, of a possible attack, that had caused her to react like this, though that was easily reason enough. Elrond said as much, silently, to his daughter, who agreed wholeheartedly.

Soon enough, male voices were heard from outside and Elrond’s name was called. Penny recognised the voice as Glorfindel’s. Elrond excused himself and left to get the report of what had happened, reassuring Penny once more before he did so. Penny was already feeling a little better. The screams had long gone and the party sent to deal with the threat had obviously just returned.

It was close to dawn and Penny was not going to be able to go back to sleep for the small amount of time that would have been left to her before she would have had to wake for breakfast. Instead she followed the ellith's lead and washed, dressed and readied herself, though still with a bundle of nerves lodged in a knot somewhere in her stomach.

As the pale light edged its way over the ridges of the eastward side of the small valley, Penny emerged from the tent to find the mist had cleared and was clinging only to the very tops of the peaks nearby. Quite how many had gone after the orcs she was not sure, but there were many ellyn milling around, still girded for battle and chatting amiably enough as breakfast was readied. Seeing them armed and ready did little to lessen the knot in the stomach. Nor did the fact that one or two seemed to be busily cleaning and sharpening blades that had seen use or others were closely examining arrows she could see smeared with something black, as if assessing if they could be reused. Seeing them chatting, smiling and carrying on as if nothing untoward had happened did much to counteract the effect, though.

It was strange to see them like this. When Imladris had been defended, she had seen them ride off into the distance, never saw them prepare themselves immediately before or deal with their equipment immediately following an attack. Now there was an air about them, something she had not really sensed in elves before: a residual energy about them, as if winding down from something hugely energetic, demanding and hyped up.

Did elves get adrenalin rushes?

She spotted Lindir and Glorfindel seated next to each other sharing a cup of something and headed over to join them.

“Ah, Pen-ii, are you recovered from your scare?” It was friendly concern on Glorfindel's part.

“Yes, thank you. I made a bit of a fool of myself, I think.”

“Not at all,” Lindir smiled gently. “Perfectly understandable. I know you have never encountered orcs before, wherever it is you hail from.” Something in his tone hinted that such ignorance was a very strange state of affairs. Even Glorfindel glanced at him as he spoke. "Hearing them for the first time must have been a shock for you."

She nodded.

“I take it they are all...”

“Every last one,” Glorfindel grinned. “What, do you not trust us to be able to deal with a small rabble of filthy orcs!”

“I just wish I had seen the faces of the two that nearly ran into our guards,” Lindir laughed.

Those two orcs had been the advance scouting party of a group of little more than a dozen or so. The war was not long over and those beasts under the thrall of Sauron or Saruman had scattered far and wide, but the mountains were even of old a place of refuge for them. They would be hunted down and killed off one by one but it could not be done all at once; rather it would take several years. Therefore, such encounters would be inevitable for some time to come.

The two orc scouts had barely known what had hit them as silent arrows slew them instantly in the dark. Word had been then immediately sent to the camp and a party of ellyn headed off to find and deal with the rest that they then knew would be headed (albeit unwittingly) in their direction. It was not an attack. No orcs would be so foolhardy as to try and take on such a large number of elves, and certainly not with such a small group.

“It was too easy,” Lindir was saying.

“I could well believe it,” Penny replied. What was it that was said in The Hobbit? Ah, yes... “Elves can hit a bird in the eye in the dark.” She smiled.

Glorfindel grinned and nodded. As did Lindir. The way Penny had said it, though, had made it sound like she was quoting something. Lindir looked at her, curious, but said nothing.

“We have an expression from my people. If something is easy we say it is like shooting fish in a barrel.” She used the word for firing an arrow since it would have the same meaning, near enough within the context, as shooting a gun.

“That fits the situation perfectly,” Lindir beamed. “There was never any danger to us or to the camp. They had no idea we were there. And the ones that stayed alive just long enough to realise what was happening were very upset about it.”

“How can you laugh about it?” Penny was trying to follow their mood, but was finding it a little difficult. They seemed so at ease about this, so matter-of-fact. She, on the other hand, was still feeling quite jittery. Their obvious supreme self-confidence in their ability to deal with a few pesky orcs (as they seemed to think of them) was helping reassure her, though.

“They are orcs, Pen-ii. They deserve worse than death were it possible. They are animals, evil, vile things.”

“And they stink,” Lindir added.

That Penny already knew. The stench of orcs was legendary. In fact, now she looked more closely she could see the sleeves of both Glorfindel's and Lindir's tunics were still damp as if they had washed their hands thoroughly not too long ago. Even now those who had been assessing the arrows and cleaning blades were washing themselves and their equipment like there was no tomorrow.

“I know, I know.” She just found the idea of lopping the head off anything a bit difficult to take, that was all. Even if it was a baby-eating orc. “Ignore me. I get squeamish even about plucking a chicken.”

Glorfindel and Lindir laughed out loud at that.

“Ah, you are a strange one, Pen-ii,” Lindir sniggered as they headed over to where breakfast was ready at last.

After eating, as everything was being prepared for leaving, Penny had calmed down considerably. Now the threat was passed, her Tolkienite-brain and a sense of morbid curiosity were taking hold. She was seriously tempted to ask if she could go and see a dead (and thus harmless) orc. She felt in some way that only seeing would make believing. She knew it was probably a gross faux-pas, but once the idea had popped into her head it would not leave her alone.

As luck would have it, of course, Glorfindel happened to walk past her just at that moment, carrying a pack over his shoulder and, before she could stop herself, his name fell out of her mouth.

“Glorfindel?”

“Yes, Pen-ii?” He could see she had a vaguely sheepish and apologetic expression on her face and was suddenly hesitant. He wondered what on earth she might be about to say.

“This may seem a little strange, and I may regret asking this, but could I... I mean... would it be a bad idea if...? Because I have never seen... and it is hard to even believe that orcs...” She caught the expression on Glorfindel’s face as he guessed what she was talking about. “Ai, this is a bad idea, isn’t it? It's only because I know there is no danger now, and-”

“Some things are best left alone, Pen-ii. You will probably be able to make them out clearly enough from the path if you want to when we get to that point. I would advise you not to look, though. They are not a pleasant sight, and are evil creatures. Also…" he hesitated. "Seeing anything in death is not easy.” He regarded her with kind concern.

She had not thought about that. She suddenly realised she should have thought this through a bit more before she said anything. Her request must seem very strange indeed. She regretted it now. This is what came of opening her mouth before her brain was in gear. As usual.

“It was just that… It is a bit like when I needed to touch Elladan the first time I saw him.” She looked at him with furrowed brows, not sure if he would understand.

Glorfindel looked torn between mild amusement, astonishment and a little shock. "Are you comparing Elladan to an orc?" His tone was bordering on being offended.

Penny blinked.

"No. No! No, not at all!" That decided it: it was a bad idea even bringing this subject up. 'Just shut up, Penny.' "Forget I asked. Stupid idea. I am sorry."

Glorfindel shook his head slightly with an amused and bemused smile as she wandered off towards her mare, berating herself and asking what in the name of all things sacred had she been thinking. If she was honest, she did not want to see one as much as she was curious to see one. It would only scare her silly, she knew, to be confronted by something she had seen only pictures of before now. Besides which, Glorfindel had hinted the kind of state some of them would be in. One or two of the ellyn had been cleaning blades, after all. And arrows could probably do nasty things to you if they landed in your head or your eye…

Penny shuddered.

It was one aspect of this entire situation she still had not got entirely used to: that fighting and battle were part of life here. As was death. Even for immortals.

As she readied her horse, she saw Glorfindel talking to Lindir nearby him, both already astride their stallions. Glorfindel was pointing ahead along the vague outline of the path up the slope out of the valley and then gesturing vaguely in Penny's direction. As Penny climbed in the saddle, Lindir came over to her.

“You wanted to see an orc? Why in Arda would you want to do that?”

“I have never seen one. Before last night it was difficult to really understand they were…”

She trailed off, suddenly realising she did not know how to express the concept of 'real' or 'actual' as opposed to 'imagined'. She did not have the vocabulary for it. She could see Lindir understood her well enough, though.

"I should not have asked, and it is not going to happen, so stop getting upset about it."

"I am not upset about it. I just find it strange. Orcs are disgusting beasts for all sorts of reasons. They also died in battle, Penny. I am not sure you could…"

"Yes, I know," she said with some exasperation. "Glorfindel reminded me of that. I don't want to see anything. I won't see anything."

The whisper of curiosity was still muttering away in the back of her brain, though, and she was not entirely convinced that, if push came to shove, she would not be able to stop herself.

The company was moving off, heading slowly up the slight incline towards a gap between two of the low peaks that near surrounded them in a U-shape.

“Ready?”

Penny nodded. Then paused. “No.”

Lindir smiled. “Come on. Now or never.” He headed off along the scree.

Penny took a deep breath and followed.

As they neared the head of the valley, Penny could see there was a channel between two hill peaks, and as they climbed towards it she realised there was no higher ground beyond. This, then, where they had camped overnight, was the top of the pass. On the other side of these hills it was downhill all the way to the Dimrill Dale.

She could just see the forward scouts, all on horses, disappearing over the horizon a little way ahead of them. After a little while it was their turn to come to the brow of the pass, turn and start downwards a little. The path, such as it was since it was, as ever, almost impossible to make out the slight difference in the loose stones of the path from those that surrounded it, bent slightly to the right, hugging the curve of the hill. On the left, a few yards away, a deep chasm opened up that slowly formed a cliff-sided valley, along the top of which the path travelled for a little distance.

As they headed along the vague outline of the track, Penny could see some of those ahead of them among the company pointing something out towards their left, others turning away with looks of disgust, still others making a deliberate point of not looking in that direction at all.

Penny blinked at them.

"They are down the cliff?"

“Well, we didn’t want them fouling the pass,” Lindir explained. “Dead orcs are just as revolting as live ones even if not nearly as dangerous.”

That must have been hard (and smelly) work, Penny realised, pushing them off the edge. Now she understood better the furious washing of hands that had been going on back at the camp. She glanced towards where someone was pointing but turned away again nearly as quickly. 'What the hell are you doing, Penny?' Curiosity was kicking in, though, despite what her brain was screaming at her. Without even realising what she was doing, she slowed the horse to a stand still.

"Pen-ii, I thought you said…"

Lindir's voice died away as he realised she was not really listening. She was clearly lost within herself, no doubt debating the merits or otherwise of looking and yet obviously unable to resist the temptation to do so. Lindir sighed and shook his head. Well, if she was that determined to see one…

"Over there," he said at last, quietly, pointing out one that was separate from the rest and had little obvious 'damage'.

Penny looked. There were great boulders littering the sides of the cliff slope and she realised Lindir had pointed towards a blackish lump lying near one. She could not make it out properly and, fixated, as if drawn, she slowly slid out of the saddle and nervously walked a little closer to the edge.

Lindir immediately jumped down from his horse to join her. At least that way he could catch her before she fell off the cliff if she passed out, he decided. Penny's propensity for histrionics had become legendary in those first few weeks she had been in Imladris.

Even as Penny looked at it to try and make sense of the shape of it she heard a voice behind her.

“Oh, Pen-ii, don’t! They are too vile! Why spoil the day’s travel with memories of those things in your head!”

Eleniel had a point.

“Oh, are they here?” Penny glanced to her right to see Mireth and Celebdor standing side by side. Mireth was trying to pull Celebdor away from the cliff edge. “Oh, yes! I see one! Disgusting creatures!” The sneering loathing in Celebdor's tone spoke volumes. "Do not look, my dear," he added to Mireth.

“Urgh, I do not intend to,” Mireth grimaced. “Come on!”

She finally succeeded in getting Celebdor to turn around and they headed off down the path together. However, Mireth, glancing over her shoulder to see Penny now looking over the edge herself, gestured for Celebdor to carry on without her and made her way back to join Eleniel.

Penny was staring in disbelief as she let the image sink in. She could see the sallow skin, the jaw hanging, its mouth agape and showing a set of teeth that were broken, twisted and, apart from those that were rotting, clearly sharp enough to give a very nasty bite. The colour of the skin was a greenish yellow, gnarled and warty. The hands, claw-like in some respects, were clutched to its chest from which protruded three large arrows. The clothes or armour it was wearing were hard to make out but seemed to be a combination of metal and leather.

It was like the stuff of nightmares and the most hideous thing she had ever seen in her life. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end, her skin break out into goose pimples, the knot in her stomach come back with a vengeance…

She could not take her eyes off it.

“An orc. A real, live orc,” she was murmuring. She blinked. “Okay, a real, dead orc, but still...”

'She’s muttering in her own tongue,' Lindir smirked to himself. 'Can only be a bad thing.' He was just pleased she was not throwing forty fits at the sight of it.

“Seen enough, Pen-ii? We should move on.”

Penny nodded and made to go. As she did so a group of ellyn nearby, one telling how they had ambushed the orcs from the rise of the hill to the right even as the orcs had been climbing up the pass, pointed directly below them in a different direction to the orc Penny had seen.

“One or two fell off without us having to push the bodies over,” he was saying. “The force of several arrow hits at once saved us some work, even if it did mean we lost a few arrows in the process.”

Penny, without thinking, glanced down to where he had indicated.

“No, Pen-ii!”

Lindir actually caught hold of her and tried turning her away, but it was too late. The pile of orcs, while mostly consisting of whole ones, was still a revolting sight. One or two had been cut open in the fight, one had lost its head, and the rest had arrows in places arrows should not go or else gaping wounds where arrows had been ripped out. In the snapshot glance Penny got of it all, her brain picked out only the worst of it: it seemed as if only a mess of body parts, innards and grotesque faces frozen in their death throes stared up at her.

She gagged, fell to her knees and immediately lost her breakfast.

Lindir crouched beside her as she recovered herself and gave her a water sac to drink from. Penny took a few sips and then, as he rested a hand on her shoulder with a look of concern, turned to him with a sob, burying her head against his chest. Lindir let her hold him, bringing one arm round to pat her head.

“I did not mean for you to see that,” Lindir said quietly to her. “I am sorry.”

He shook his head with a sigh. He had quite deliberately pointed to an entire orc well away from the rest of them. He had known full well she would not be able to deal with the sight of the battle-butchered ones. When she had joked to them about being squeamish even plucking chickens, she had not been far from the truth.

Eleniel, meanwhile, was busy scolding him.

“What were you thinking, showing her such things? Poor Pen-ii, she is entirely unused to it. Quite right too! It is not as if we in Imladris see orcs on a regular basis either, let alone ones that have been cut to pieces. It is all too revolting!”

Penny groaned as she heard the phrase 'cut to pieces,' feeling her stomach lurch. She pushed herself free from Lindir even as he protested his innocence.

“Curiosity is not always a good thing,” Mireth was saying gently to Penny. “Come on, up you get. Have another sip of water.”

“I am fine. Really.”

She headed back to her horse a little shakily. Gah, she should have listened to Glorfindel and Lindir. There was no way she was getting that image out of her head now.

“No, I would advise walking. The exercise and air will help clear your head.” Mireth was taking charge of the situation. Penny nodded dumbly.

Lindir and Eleniel were having a ‘discussion’ about the merits and wisdom (or otherwise) of his having ‘allowed’ Penny to see such a thing.

“Oh, stop it, you two! It was not Lindir’s fault, it was mine.”

“Exactly,” Lindir said in a vindicated tone. “Thank you, Pen-ii. You see, Eleniel?”

“No, Pen-ii, you could not have known what a revolting sight was down there...”

“Ai, could we PLEASE stop talking about it? I will be sick again. I would prefer to forget it!”

“Yes, Eleniel, stop talking about it!”

“I am not the one that allowed her see it, Lindir!”

Penny could not forget it, though, even once the bickering had stopped (and it only did in the end after Mireth's patience finally snapped and she told Lindir and Eleniel in no uncertain terms what she thought of the pair of them), and for the entire rest of the day Penny was subdued. She barely ate anything at lunch, just nibbled on some fruit and that was it. In some ways it was probably no bad thing she had seen the mess of butchered orcs since that provided an excuse. She would have been subdued and a little freaked out even if she had seen nothing but that fairly ‘pristine’ (if you could ever use such a word about an orc) body Lindir had pointed out.

Orcs. Real orcs. She had seen real orcs. REAL ORCS!

It was like a tape on a loop going round her head over and over. Interjected with images that outdid any horror movie you could think of, of course. Gah, she knew she would have nightmares tonight, she was convinced of it.

“I hear you had a bit of scare both last night and then again this morning?” Erestor said as he finally caught up with her for the day’s reading lesson.

“Well, the second was more shock. And entirely my own fault. Glorfindel and Lindir tried to stop me.”

Erestor nodded.

“Must have been strange for you to see them in the flesh.”

Again the careful wording, just like Elrond in the early hours – hinting at so much more, at the common understanding between them.

“It was. Very strange. Though if I am honest I am surprised I am not more affected by it.”

“Are you not?”

“No. Well, yes, in some ways, but not like...” She hesitated before glanced at Erestor, riding alongside her. “Not like before.”

Indeed: no screaming, wailing, sobbing, self-harm… Halbarad would have been impressed.

“You are more used to your surroundings. This bodes well for the journey ahead.”

Penny nodded. It did. She had not thought of that. But then she had already managed quite well with the fact that she was wandering about over Caradhras, that somewhere on one of these peaks nearby a Balrog was killed. She glanced behind her and upwards as she thought of it. Erestor followed her gaze.

“It is a famous mountain,” she explained. “I still can not quite believe I am journeying over it.”

“Indeed,” Erestor smiled. “Now, are you up to reading do you think? Or shall we review your Westron vocabulary?”

Penny groaned at the mere mention of it.

Which was a bad move since Erestor then opted for the Westron quite deliberately.

The way down the mountain was much the same as the way up it, though easier on the legs. The horses found it a little harder going, especially over the loose rocks higher up. Thus the journey was a little slower at first as the elves took care that their animals did not stumble.

Eventually greenery started to appear once more, and little rivulets slowly grew to streams and waterfalls that splashed their way down the mountainside with them. Parts of the way were forested, providing welcome shade from what was turning out to be a sunny day.

At one point, breaking out from trees into the open once more, Penny could see the valley below, the dark spear-shaped waters glinting between the two arms of peaks that formed the Dimril Dale. She gasped, unable to take in what she was seeing.

Seeing her reaction, Erestor pointed out where the Eastern entrance to Moria was, away and down a little to his left. Penny looked but could not make out any door or gap in the rock. It was too far away and the dwarves had crafted it too well.

Instead she peered into the distance to the south-east now that the countryside was visible for several miles ahead. She thought she could faintly make out a flush of darker green in the distance. She pointed at it, just as it was lost from view as the path turned once more and down into a cleft between two rock faces.

“Was that...?”

“Yes, Pen-ii. We will be there by tonight or tomorrow I suspect.”

Penny suddenly felt sick with excitement and apprehension in equal measure.

As has been explained in the chapter: Sauron's fall did not mean the end of all his forces by any means. JRRT himself said they scattered and would never rise again, but they were still around and it would take time for them to die or be killed. Even Moria would be repopulated by dwarves (given comments in HoME as well as Gandalf's statement in the Chamber of Mazarbul that the time to reclaim had 'not yet' come) but there were a lot of nasties to get rid of first. Thus this encounter with orcs is entirely feasible if not to be expected.