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Rotten Fruit

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Warning: This story contains graphic depictions of sex and rape, dark humor, bondage, incest, and femslash. All in one little oneshot.  It really is appropriate for no one. 

Disclaimer: Middle Earth and its characters are property of one J. R. R. Tolkien. This story is written for my own, twisted amusement and the twisted amusement of like minded deviants. I make no monetary gain from this story. 

Glokarn and Matnau are, unfortunately, beasts of my own creation. Sadly, I can blame them on no one else.


 

 

No man chooses evil because it is evil; 

he only mistakes it for happiness, the good he seeks...

– Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley

 

Well! Evil to some is always good to others.

– Jane Austen 

 


 A loud, insistent twittering above her head woke the she-orc from her peaceful slumber. Glaring at the small bird on the branch above her, she plucked a stone from near her head and took aim. The chirping stopped with a loud thunk and the bird dropped to the ground, dead. Matnau plucked the sparrow from the forest floor and popped it into her mouth, crunching its bones loudly between her broad, heavy jaws. 

Next to her there was a moan and a growl and the mountain of dark skin that was her older twin rolled over, smacking her lips together loudly and grimacing.  With a smirk and an impish look, Matnau rolled over to wrap her thick, black arms around her sister, breathing in the heady sweet smell of her breeding musk and nibbling playfully at Glokarn's mangled, pointed ear.  "Lovely mornin', eh sis?" she purred, reaching up to pinch her twin's breast playfully.

 Glokarn sneered crankily and reached back to slap her sister's fleshy hip, eyes half lidded. "You 'ad breakfast wit'out me?" she rumbled, annoyed.

"Gar," Matnau pouted innocently as she ran her rough tongue along her partner's thick neck, appreciating the valleys between the corded muscle and scar tissue, "that were just a morsel. Weren't no proper breakfast." 

Glokarn yawned and stretched. Matnau's steady gnawing was making her horny, and that was pissing her off. She really wanted to eat. Rolling over, she pinned her half naked sister between her thighs.

With a content purr, Matnau arched her back as Glokarn's fangs nipped sharply at her firm nipple, drawing blood. Matnau writhed as her sister's textured tongue swirled around her areola, lapping at the dark drops welling up.  For a blissful moment, she enjoyed the tingling warmth pooling in her gut before she gripped Glokarn's arms, twisting them both, so she was on top. Their playful overtures turned to rough displays of dominance and they tumbled over each other, each biting at the other's chest and neck, not deep enough to do damage, but enough to have them both bloody and slick. 

Glokarn raked her claws along her younger twin's hip as she buried her face between her legs, and Matnau howled with pleasure as her sister's fangs bore into the inside of her thigh. Both orcs sported a significant number of scars in that region, finding it a particularly sensitive spot, the pain mixing with pleasure so intensely, it was enough to drive a girl mad.  Glokarn slowed her pace to leisurely as she rolled her tongue along her sisters most intimate places, making her squirm and coo and giggle breathlessly. Then, she gripped Matnau's waist and pulled her against her mouth, twisting her head and manipulating her jaw.  Glokarn did something with her tongue and lips and fangs and Matnau nearly passed out.

"Fuck," Matnau hissed through her clenched teeth and came with a shudder. Glokarn crawled up her body and embraced her sister roughly, a smug, wet grin on her face. "Bitch," Matnau smirked as she pulled Glokarn to her, nipping her chin lightly.

"You can owe me one," Glokarn smiled and licked her lips, "I'm fucking starved."

Surveying the leavings from the previous night, Matnau frowned. There wasn't much left of the man brat they'd caught the day before; just a roughly torn shoulder and a bit of upper arm. While Glokarn puled on her armor, a roughly hewn breast plate and too-large length of mail, Matnau checked her back for any brat bits that may have stuck to her while they rolled over it in their frenzy.

"We'd better leg it an' see what we can dredge up. Better not laze about, in case some folk come lookin' fer that one."

With a careless shrug, Matnau tossed the remains into a thicket of nearby shrubs before donning her own armor, a thick, leather vest that barely covered her tits and a heavy shoulder plate. She helped Glokarn tie on arm guards before pulling her boots on. The pair shouldered their weapons, a heavy battle axe for Matnau and a long handled mace for Glokarn, and heaved their heavy rucksacks on their backs. The pair of large, Uruk hai females jogged off into the early morning. A rotting, unidentifiable shoulder blade and a patch of flattened earth remained as evidence of their passing the night in the quiet, shaded glade.

The pair of she-orcs traveled most of the morning heading deeper into the cover of the forest. They stopped once for a piss break, before finally coming to a wide, clear river. The water was deep, but not fast, and a number of large fish glided along the white sand at the bottom, their silver scales flashing in the dappled light that sifted through the trees above. Glokarn's stomach rumbled loudly at the sight of the fish. She didn't have a light snack her twin managed earlier. Still, they had not lived this long by being careless. The sisters split up, each heading in the opposite direction to reconnoiter the shoreline before they settled into fishing and a long overdue bath. Content when their inspection turned up little more than the faint whiff of prey animals, the pair met back up near a large rock and stripped before diving into the water.

Glokarn dove immediately to the bottom, holding her breath as she snatched at a large fish. It took a few dives before she finally caught one, and the orcess didn't bother heading back to shore to eat it. She stuffed it bodily into her mouth with a content grunt and swallowed it bones and all. Matnau showed a little more restraint. She caught a few fish, stranding them on the face of the rock before she went to dive for another. The orcess amassed several wriggling bodies before she climbed on the rock, sitting crossed legged on the comfortably warm granite and chewing at her meal leisurely, enjoying the cool, sweet flesh as she ground it between her jaws.

After a few more, quick meals, Glokarn contented herself with treading water. It was a cool relief against her heated skin. The late summer had brought her heat, and Glokarn was eager for a reprieve from the constant fever she seemed to be under. Matnau was friskier than usual, catching the scent of breeding on her sister. Glokarn didn't mind, really, but she did find it frustrating, and often envied her barren sibling. Matnau was the one with a liking for sprogs, not her.

Glokarn watched her sister from the water with a frown. They had tried to make a go at settling down after the Eye fell, running with a pack of Uruk hai on their way north, but Matnau's axe was itchy for blood, and Glokarn didn't like how the males eyed her up. They gave up on settling down almost as quickly as they started. The peaceful life wasn't for either of them, both born and bred to battle. Their mother had died whelping them. Glokarn and Matnau were large even for Uruk hai females, and their skills were better served in the barracks than the breeding dens. Glokarn never had a taste for males anyhow. Not that she minded cock terribly much, but she preferred the subtle skill of her sister's tongue and hand. Matnau trekked with males more than her, but she hadn't come across any who had caught her eye enough to separate her from her beloved sister.

Floating on her back, allowing her body to drift in the lazy current, Glokarn stared up at the leafy branches above thoughtfully. Maybe they would come across a male over the next few days. Her heat made her want cock more than usual. Normally, she found this infuriating. Glokarn didn't like being dominated by anything, least of all her body, and especially now that her masters were five years dead and gone, but she could bend this once for her sister. Matnau wanted a whelp, Glokarn knew this. The thought of their own daughter to raise up bloodthirsty and battle sharp was a pleasant thought, worth the six months she would be laid up with a pregnancy, and the goal of finding a sire would give them something to do over the next few days. They could only slaughter wantonly so much. Even the sweet, sharp stink of fear and the screams of their enemies lost its luster after a while.

Especially now. With no Lord coordinating their efforts, most orcs had scattered into wandering bands of raiders or reunited into family units and tribes. It was frustrating, knowing they had lost the War. On one hand, not having a Master left Glokarn and Matnau with an enjoyable amount of freedom, but on the other, without that unifying force, the race of Men would eventually close in on them. Glokarn normally did not concern herself with long term plans, but it would be in their best interest to bring another into their group. Who better to watch their backs than their own offspring?

Feeling a plan forming, Glokarn swam back towards the rock cheerfully, intent on sharing her idea with her sister. Matnau had finished her late breakfast and was lathering up with a hunk of soap root, scrubbing at the scruffy hair on her head. Both twins were in the habit of keeping their heads shaved. You only needed to be dragged bodily to the ground once before it became a liability. Glokarn ruffled the reddish stubble on her own scalp thoughtfully. She was well overdue for a shave as well.

Pulling her long hunting knife from its scabbard, Matnau eyed her sister with a grin. "Care ta do me?" she asked with a laugh. "Last time I 'ad a go at it myself I nearly lost an ear."

Glokarn smiled and took the knife from her, situating herself behind her twin. A long, curved scar slithered its way down Matnau's back, the result of a knight's well placed sword stroke. Glokarn ran her finger along the silver rift in her twin's dark flesh before tilting her sister's head back, and angling the sharp blade against her skull. Glokarn shaved Matnau's head in silence, pulling the knife along her scalp in even, careful strokes.

"You smell lovely," Matnau said off-handedly. A breeding female's scent was altered somewhat from her normal smell, spicier and richer to attract the males of their breed, but it had a general effect as well. Just being near her sister made Matnau's mouth dry.

Glokarn swiveled deftly around Matnau's bulk to take care of the front of her head. She smiled at her sister wanly. "'Ats 'ow it goes," she shrugged, noting the sad, knowing expression on her barren sibling's face. "I was thinkin'," Glokarn said slowly as she finished up and passed the knife back to Matnau, "maybe this season we could find a lad. Have a sprog between us. What do ya think?"

Pursing her lips, Matnau lathered the soap root in her hand thoughtfully as Glokarn turned her back. "You wanna start runnin' with lads again?" Matnau asked, uneasy, as she worked the lather into the other orcess's stubby hair.

"Nar," Glokarn said with a scowl, though it was hard to make a face with Matnau's fingers massaging her scalp. "Nuthin' like that. We'll find some bloke to knock me up and tell 'im to cock off after. I don't want no pricks waved in my face more'n I need 'em ta be."

Matnau giggled girlishly as she began shaving Glokarn's head. "I don' mind pricks so much," she laughed, "but yer right. A lad sticks aroun' too long an' he thinks like ya owe 'im somethin'. I ain't too keen on that."

Matnau finished shaving her, and Glokarn turned, wrapping her thick arms around her sister's waist, pressing their naked breasts together as she leaned her hips against her twin's. "So," Glokarn offered, "whatcha think a that? Havin' a little one of our own."

Grinning wickedly, Matnau leaned forward and grazed her teeth along Glokarn's jaw. "I like it," she growled huskily into the other orcess's ear. "Like how you smell, too, an' I still owe ya one."

Matnau scrambled out of Glokarn's grasp and onto the rock, pulling her twin up after her. There was no fight for dominance between them this time. Feeling relaxed and in a general good mood, Glokarn laid back, resting her head on her arms as Matnau fondled her breasts gently, aware that her breeding sister was more sensitive than usual when the heat was on her. Smoothing her hand against the flat plane of her sister's belly, Matnau took a nipple into her mouth, sucking idly while she reached between Glokarn's legs and rubbed the heel of her hand along the sensitive, wet folds there.

Glokarn rumbled contently as Matnau nipped and sucked along the hills and valleys of her body, her breasts and neck and the dip in her waist, which was a particularly sensitive spot, making her squirm with slow pleasure. It wasn't until Glokarn was panting that Matnau nestled between her legs and lapped at her swollen slit with long, slow strokes of her tongue. Pulling her sister's legs so they rested on her shoulders, Matnau kept a steady pace with her tongue, until Glokarn was moaning and writhing and begging for release. Matnau shoved her fore and middle finger into her sister, scissoring her fingers and twisting. She blunted the claws on those fingers just for this purpose. After a few, harrowing incidents, this had become a habit among both of them.

Glokarn cried out, and Matnau felt the first stirrings of her twin's orgasm against her hand. Swirling her tongue around the orcess's clit, Matnau bit down very gently, barely touching her teeth to the sensitive hood, and Glokarn howled and came so hard Matnau was worried the other female might crush her fingers. She kept her hand where it was as the other orcess shivered with the last throes of her orgasm, laying her lips at the juncture of Glokarn's thigh and hip, breathing in the sweet sweat on her sibling's leathery skin. Glokarn made a strangled noise of contentment as Matnau withdrew her hand and settled next to her twin, pulling her sibling into her arms as they lay naked on the rock, lazily sunning themselves.

"We even now?" Matnau whispered into her sister's ear and grinned.


Finding a male was proving to be more difficult than she had imagined. Two days had passed, pleasurably for the most part, and Glokarn was nearly at the end of her heat. She was starting to experience the wild wantonness that normally arose with the passing of her fertility, and she was beginning to feel a little desperate on her sister's behalf.

They had started moving north, where they knew a clan of orcs had settled some years passed, but what they found was a ring of burned out holes, remains of the half buried huts that characterized an orcish settlement. The sky was darkening, and a light rain peppered down on them. Matnau poked at a rickety pole that once supported a roof of thatched wood and bark. It fell to the ground with a loud, distressing thud.

"The fuck 'appened 'ere?" Matnau grumbled, knowing the answer. Men had cleared the lands north, and were moving south from Ithilien, into Southern Gondor, mowing down any orc in their path. Where once there were only scantily guarded homesteads or small settlements that could not properly be called villages, there were now bustling towns of Men with high stone walls and a guard at every post. It made things harder and harder for a pair of girls to find a decent meal or bit of fun.

The she-orc scowled at the skeleton of the orc village. She hadn't known these orcs, and settled folk were not her kind of people, but it was the principal of the thing. Men had come here, and from what Matnau could see, these idiots rolled over and let them slit open their bellies. She had never felt so justified in her and Glokarn's decision to keep on the move.

"Found this," Glokarn said as she approached her sister, holding up a large, light clay jug. "Draught's still good, so least it ain't a total bust."

Matnau bit the inside of her lip with a thin smile. She had honestly been excited about the prospect of having a whelp to look after. "That's fine, then," she said half heartedly.

Glokarn clasped her shoulder, and gave Matnau a little, friendly shake, hoping to pull her sibling from her glum mood. "Hey now," Glokarn said gently, "I got a few days left, still. Might still find a bloke ta help us out, an' if not, there's always next season."

Matnau gave Glokarn a light punch in the arm and took a swig from the offered jug, enjoying the warm heat as it settled in her belly. "'Course yer right," she said, her green eyes bright as the rain continued to fall.

A distant whinnying broke their somber moment, and both sisters fixed each other with a serious expression. Splitting up, they took cover where they could. Glokarn crouched under the remnants of a wall that leaned against the side of a ditch, forming a little hollow in the space beneath it. Matnau climbed onto a sturdy but half standing roof on an adjacent structure. A cluster of leafy branches kept her out of site to anyone below.

After several, tense minutes during which the rain began to pour harder, flicking the leaves on the branches between Matnau and the ground, a lone Man rode in on a dark brown horse, his sage, hooded cloak marking him as a Ranger. Baring her sharp, yellowing fangs, Matnau sneered at the back of the Man's dark, damp head, affronted by his stench, which was clearer now that he was positioned co close to her. Matnau hated Rangers, and justly so.  Rangers had killed their last Captain in the War, a stout, stalwart uruk from the Ash Mountains, and Rangers had dogged their steps since they had been on their own, interrupting more than one raid and robbery.  The pair of them had narrowly escaped a Ranger's arrow on more than one occasion, and it was a Ranger's sword that nearly ended Glokarn's life just a few years prior. She doubted Glokarn had a good view from her spot, but Matnau could see that this cocky fool had no one with him. This realization brought a slow, cruel smile to her face.

Matnau leapt from her perch, throttling the man and his mount with the weight of her body, and toppling them over. The Ranger was thrown clear from his horse. Matnau had struck the beast with her axe as she fell haphazardly on the pair, and the Ranger's steed quivered where it dropped, its bright intestines spilling from the hole in its side. The Man righted himself and pulled his sword just as Glokarn sprung from the ditch. He turned it time to sight her mace, and moved to avoid the blow, but he was not quick enough, and it glanced across his skull with a wet, ripping sound, splitting the skin on the side of his head to the bone. The man fell, unconscious, and Glokarn raised her weapon above her head, preparied for a killing blow.

Matnau scowled as her sister hesitated. Glokarn's heavy brow furrowed thoughtfully while the mace hovered above her head. "What're ya waitin' fer?" Matnau growled, panting viciously. "Think 'is skull'll crush itself?"

Glokarn lowered her mace peacefully to her side, giving her sister a pointed look. "We're in need of a lad, ain't we?" she said with a wry smile.

Matnau blinked, aghast. "What, him?" she said with a snarl. "You want a sprog off a Man? Are ya fuckin' daft?"

Glokarn crouched over the man, gingerly lifting the patch of scalp that had been grazed off of his head. It was still attached by a small thread of skin, and the orcess laid it gently back into place. "Nar," Glokarn rumbled. "Think on it, sis. All us Uruk-hai is part Man. It's why we can go about in the day, after all. Why not a Man? It ain't like we're keepin' 'im after."

Shouldering her axe, Matnau came to stand next to Glokarn, leaning over the Man with the same thoughtful expression of her sister. "You think 'e'll be up fer it?" Matnau asked, still somewhat unconvinced.

"Who says 'e 'as ta be?" Glokarn said, looking up at her twin with a dark grin.

Matnau matched her sister's expression with her own, malicious smile. "Oh," she purred, "I fuckin' love this idea."


 When he first blinked awake, all Dellon could see was blackness, but ever so slowly his vision sharpened, and he could make out a stony, uneven ceiling lit by soft firelight. There was a light, soft pressure on his head, as though something had been wrapped around it. Dellon moved to touch whatever it was, only to find that his arms were tied fast to his sides. As his awareness rose, he realized he was stripped completely naked, lying on a greasy, fur blanket. A musty smell mixed with an oddly sweet odor reached his nose. It smelled like rotting peaches and cinnamon and bull musk, and Dellon nearly gagged on the intensity of it.

A pair of bright green, slanted eyes appeared above him, called to his side by the choking cough he had made. It was an orc's face, black as pitch and hairless, it's large eyes planted under a heavy brow. The orc smiled at him, revealing rows of yellowing, thick fangs. It may as well have snarled at him for all the assurance the cruel cunning behind that smile held.

"Oh," a rough voice to his right chirped. "Is 'e up, then, sis?" Another head peered at him. Though Dellon had never been able to distinguish features among orcs, he was fairly certain this one was identical to the orc already in his line of sight. More concerning than the pair of large, squarish heads and broad, muscled shoulders were their naked breasts and wide hips.

Realizing they were both completely naked, Dellon swallowed anxiously. While he had come across females of the species before – at least, he had assumed some were female – they had never looked at him with the shrewd eyes that this pair had on him. The young ranger felt his heartbeat speed up, realizing the vulnerable hopelessness of his situation. He should never have haughtily gone ahead of Cadoc and Hedon. If he managed to get out of this alive, and at the moment that seemed remarkably unlikely, he would never scoff at the older Rangers' orders again. Ever.

"You're goin' ta help us out, tark," one of the females said as she straddled his waist, and Dellon felt his manhood shrink into his body. "See," the she-orc said, gripping his jaw in her massive paws, "me an my sis are in the mind ta have a sprog, but we need a feller's help. Now," the orcess purred, "you wouldn't mind helpin' out a pair a nice girls like us, would ya?" She shook his head for him, and Dellon felt as though he might weep. "Promise ta let ya go when we're done," the female said with an untrustworthy smile. "Don't we, Matnau?"

"That's right, Glokarn," the other creature said with false gentleness as she threaded her claws in his unbound hair. Dellon squeezed his eyes shut and, much to his quiet shame, whimpered helplessly, willing himself to be anywhere but here.

Glokarn ground her heavy hips against him and scowled at his scrunched up face. He was completely soft beneath her, and she half raised off of him, batting at his limp member. "Pluck up, then," she growled dangerously, "or we'll have ta do it fer ya."

The Man whimpered again, his eyes still squeezed shut, and Matnau gave her sister a dirty look. "I told ya this wouldn't work," she said. "Shoulda crushed 'is skull when we 'ad the chance. Now 'e's gonna make a mess all over the floor."

Baring her teeth, Glokarn pressed her hand to the man's throat. "Get me my belt," she growled.

With a bemused expression, Matnau passed her the long, wide strip of leather she used as a belt. Glokarn whipped the man hard across the chest, and his eyes opened as he gasped out a startled yelp. A bright, red line blossomed cross his chest and little beads of blood welled against the quickly purpling mark. "You don' wanna be helpful?" Glokarn snarled as she wrapped the belt around his throat.

Dellon spat up at her face, missing his mark, but angering the orcess anyway. "I would rather die," he said defiantly, and the she-orc smiled.

"Oh no," she rumbled, pulling the leather around his throat tight enough to constrict his airflow, but not enough to crush his larynx. "You ain't goin' yet," she assured him. The she orc knelt over him, pinning Dellon down as he writhed, gasping and struggling for air.

Matnau's brows rose as she watched the Ranger's manhood perk up. "Well," she said with a smirk, "look at that! Where'd ya learn that, Glokarn?"

"That ol' coot Geth did it ta some tark once," Glokarn answered, grinning down at the red faced Man below her. Glokarn loosened the belt enough for him to take a breath before tightening it again. "That mad ol' codger were full a good tricks."

"Oi," Glokarn continued, looking at her sister pointedly. "You take hold a this while I take care a his todger. Make sure 'e gets some air e'ry now an' again."

Matnau knelt near the Man's head and took the belt strap gleefully from her sister, loosening it for a breath and tightening it, giggling at how the man coughed and sputtered. "Ain't 'e sweet," she said, licking his tear streaked cheek. "You sure we can't keep 'im?"

Glokarn snickered. "He'll be broke 'fore the nights out," she said, licking her teeth.

Slick with her heat, Glokarn used her own wetness to stroke the Man's member, fondling his sack. A sick, anxious sob escaped his throat as Matnau loosed and tightened the belt again. Glokarn mounted him quickly, unsure of how long he would survive the chokehold they had on him. She growled low in her throat as she thrust against him, careful not to crush his puny hips with her weight. Matnau nipped at her jaw as she bucked, and Glokarn was surprised by how aroused she was. She was very sure she had never enjoyed fucking a bloke quite this much before.

She was grinding against him now, eager and near completion. Glokarn grabbed the belt from her sister's hand and pulled hard. "Come, you fuck," she hissed and an orgasm hit her. A strangled, desperate shout escaped the Man as his eyes rolled back and Glokarn grinned as she felt his seed leak into her. The orcess released the belt, and rolled off of him. Their Man was wracked with a furious coughing fit before he turned his head to the side and vomited bile, shivering with revulsion.

Glokarn wiped the seed from the inside of her thighs with a cool eye on the Man, who had turned on his side, weeping quietly. Matnau was looking expectantly at her sister. "Well?" Matnau queried.

"Guess that should a done it," Glokarn said with a shrug. A female orc in heat did not need an extensive liaison to ensure a pregnancy, especially so close to the end, as Glokarn was now.

Matnau glared at the Man's back as he shuddered with silent sobbing. "Think we should give it one more go?" she asked. "You know," she said, grinning at her sister, "just ta be sure."

Glokarn pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Guess 'at would be the smartest thing," she agreed. "Let's clean the sick off 'im first, though."


 She had him again, and then the second female climbed on top of him while the first manned the belt. By then Dellon had nothing left to give her, though, to his disgust and shame, his manhood still rose of its own accord when the strap was tightened around his throat. Black spots whirled across his vision, and he was barely aware when the second female stopped crushing him with her massive hips to stand over him, glaring darkly.

"I don't want ta fuck 'im if 'e's gonna pop off," Matnau growled. "'At's fuckin' queer."

Glokarn released the belt and shrugged. The Man barely coughed this time, his lids heavy as his body jerked reflexively. His face was red and bruised along the temple where several blood vessels had popped beneath the skin and his neck was an angry, purple welt, rubbed raw by the rough leather of her belt. "Yea," Glokarn rumbled, "this one's done fer."

Matnau walked to her weapons in the corner, pulling her long hunting knife and turning towards her sister. "Don't know 'bout you, sis," she said, licking her lips, "but I've worked up an appetite." As she watched her sister cross her cave with her knife at the ready, Glokarn smiled. Matnau looked lovely, her dark, naked body glistening and lit by firelight, and Glokarn looked forward to fucking her after their supper.

There was a hushed swish and Matnau stopped suddenly, her hand falling to her side and a short, gray arrow shaft poking from her temple. Glokarn's eyes widened in horror, the scent of other tarks filling her nose. "Matnau!" she screeched, jumping to her feet as her sister fell to the ground.

A Man rushed in from the mouth of the cave, his bright sword glaring in the firelight. His face was a mask of grim fury, cold, gray eyes focused on her with single minded determination. Glokarn stumbled back, avoiding the first swing of his sword, but tripped over the feet of the captured Man and fell on her back, cracking her head against the cave wall. She didn't feel the blade cut through her flesh, neatly severing her head from her body.

Cadoc took a steadying breath as the orc's head rolled from her shoulders. Pulling off his green cloak, he cut the cord binding Dellon at the waist before covering the man's prone, naked body. He was unconscious, and Cadoc tapped at his cheek gingerly. "Dellon!" Cadoc called him worriedly.

Glaring briefly at the orc's headless body, Cadoc focused again on his young comrade.  In addition to the bruises on his face and chest, his hair and face were soaked with bloody sweat.  As he loosed the strap around the young man's neck, Cadoc swore at the angry, raw wound that circled his throat like a thick, purple collar. "Hedon," Cadoc addressed the man he knew was standing behind him, "get some water, quick."

They splashed Dellon's face, and the young ranger sputtered awake. When he realized he was sitting up, being held by his comrades, and covered in the coarse wool of a Ranger's cloak, he let out a relieved, inarticulate sound, unable to find words in his throat.  The young man broke into silent sobbing, his whole body shaking in grief.

"It's all right," Cadoc told Dellon gently, though he knew it wasn't.  There was no way to comfort such a violation. "Hedon will get you mounted on a horse, and we will take you to a healer."

"No one can know," Dellon gasped, his voice hoarse.  He stared at Cadoc and Hedon with a frantic, wide eyed expression. The shame of what had happened, that he had responded in any way to the vile advances of those monsters, was a horror that he was not sure he could live with.  

The humiliation of anyone else knowing, of being branded as an orc lover, was even worse, especially after he had raised concerns about the activities of his fellow Rangers in this area.  Dellon had not agreed with their attacks on orc villages, and even had gone so far as to write a missive to Lord Faramir, requesting mercy for their former enemies.  Others would not see this as an assault.  Dellon knew they would assume the worst.

"No one will know," Hedon assured the young Ranger as he helped him to his feet. "You have our word."  Cadoc nodded in agreement as Hedon supported their wounded comrade.  Dellon was slumped against the larger Ranger, leaning on him heavily and gripping the cloak around his body with white knuckles. 

Dellon knew he could trust these men with his life and this horrible secret.  Cadoc had  once entertained Dellon's ideas of peace between man and orc with gentle humor, listening patiently as the younger ranger prattled on, and though he reprimanded Dellon for his outrageous notions, he did not mock him for them.

"It is a noble thought," Cadoc had said, "if only they weren't monsters.  You have not seen what I have seen them do.  No good can come from associating with them."

Now Dellon knew, now he understood what the older, more seasoned Ranger had tried to tell him.  Hedon helped him stand, and Cadoc dragged the orc corpses into a pile for burning, Dellon vowed to never doubt the calling they served in the name of a peaceful Gondor.  

Hedon helped Dellon onto his mount, and the young ranger watched as Cadoc lit the corpses.  The flames rose and Dellon halted their departure briefly to watch the bodies burn.  The older rangers remained by his side, silent on their mounts as the fire rose into the sky. 

The fire burned and Dellon made himself a promise.  He would visit the cruelty of the orcs upon them tenfold.


 AN: Dellon returns in Splint, but this story occurs about 6 years prior to that one.