To Finally Belong

Disclaimer: This fan fiction was not written with the intent of financial gain, but solely for my own enjoyment and hopefully to entertain others. I have no claim on Tolkien’s work or characters but am merely borrowing them. All original concepts and characters are my property and may not be used without my permission.

Author's Note: This story is on the dark side, especially the first chapter. Will lighten up later. Written for Bruce_Craig_and_Mark_Fans Story Challenge
Summary: Círa has been raised by the Orcs and after two hundred years, she returns to Lothlórien. IF YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE URUK/ELF SEX, PLEASE DON'T READ.


Chapter One – Death in the Forest


Círa sat on the hard ground, holding her mother’s head on her lap. All around them was pandemonium and death, yet the elfling was unharmed, as though there were a web of protection around her. Her eyes did not see the Orcs as they slaughtered her people and her ears did not hear the screams. Her concentration was fixed completely on her mother as the beautiful elleth smiled and touched her daughter’s cheek one last time before she gasped and went still.

“No,” Círa said, tears streaming down her face, “do not go away. Please do not go!”

Though very young, the elfling knew that her mother’s spirit had fled this world and what remained was only a shell. Still, it was all she had and she clung to the lifeless body fiercely, her long silver-blonde hair covering the elleth as she bent over her, as though protecting her.

The sounds of the battle grew dim, yet Círa still did not notice; her world being very small at the moment. When a large, filthy hand grabbed her hair and lifted to her feet, she finally became truly aware of her dire situation.

Looking around at the band of Orcs, she knew that death awaited her and she welcomed it, but not just yet. Fury rose in her small body. These horrible beasts had taken her mother from her and had slaughtered her people. Lashing out at the Orc who still had her by the hair, the elfling flung herself at him with a fury. Catching him by surprise, she managed to force him back a step where he tripped over a body on the ground. The Orc fell backwards and Círa continued to pummel him as she sat on his chest. Laughter erupted all around as the rest of the band watched gleefully, seeing their commander trounced by this tiny being. Realizing that she was getting nowhere, Círa grabbed for a fallen sword and tried to swing it at the creature, but the weapon was far too heavy for her. She had barely lifted the sword before the Orc easily grabbed it from her. Standing now, he held the sneering elfling at arm’s length as he drew back the sword to take her head. He saw no fear in the blue eyes, only hatred and defiance, and he found the sword dropping to his side again. Silence surrounded them now as he hesitated before once again drawing the sword back. Of course he would kill her, he told himself. He never took prisoners. The others would think he was weak. He looked around at them before finally dropping the sword.

“This one has fire in her. It might be amusing to keep her around for a while,” he stated, tossing her over his shoulder.

~~~~~~~~~
**********
Two Hundred years later
~~~~~~~~~
**********

Lurtz growled an order to his troops as they ran. They had been running for days and they knew what their mission was; to find the halfling and return him unspoiled to Saruman. The massive Uruk glanced back at Círa and their eyes met briefly. The elleth was not as strong as the Uruk-hai but she was fast and better with weapons than any of them. She would not kill unless it was in self-defense, but she had a brilliant mind and was useful in strategizing, an area where the others were weak. Lurtz also enjoyed using her body and that was another reason that he had brought her along. Just the sight of her running behind him filled him with need. He yelled out another order and they came to a stop, the sound of panting and growling filling the air in the clearing where they had stopped. A group was sent out immediately to hunt while the others collapsed onto the ground, exhausted. They had not even stopped to rest this day and it had taken its toll on most of them. While the others were resting their exhausted bodies, Lurtz approached Círa and looked down upon the elleth, motioning with a nod for her to follow him.

They made their way through the dense woods until they came to another clearing, some distance away. Lurtz began to disrobe, expecting her to do the same, but the elleth simply stood with her arms folded, watching him from beneath her lashes. He stopped and growled low in his throat.

“Take your clothes off,” he ordered.

“You must bathe first, if you want me,” she informed him. “You know that. I cannot stand the smell otherwise.”

Lurtz was not insulted. He understood about the elves’ keen senses and he would do whatever she asked of him. He was not capable of love as other species understood it, but what he felt for Círa was as close as he could ever get to it. He would do anything for her that she asked because he desired her. He set his clothing aside and walked down to the river, Círa following closely behind. The Uruk bathed himself thoroughly, knowing that she would settle for nothing less. He watched as she also immersed herself in the cold water, keeping her back to him. Círa smiled at the thought of Lurtz bending to her will like this. He was so powerful that he could easily take her whenever he wanted, but he did not. None of them did. She was a legend among the Orcs and Uruk-hai, being the only immortal they knew except for Saruman. For the most part, they were in awe of her. Not only was she beautiful but her skills with weapons were unsurpassed. None had dared to touch her until Lurtz had come along and she had decided that he was the one that would have her. She found his body satisfying, though his social skills were somewhat lacking to say the least. They filled each other’s physical needs and maybe some emotional requirements as well, if the truth were known. It was the best she could ever hope for. She would never have a mate and raise elflings. Even if she had wanted to return to the elves, they would not accept her. She had been raised by the Orcs and was much more like an Orc than an elf now but she would not dwell on those thoughts. They hurt too much.

Círa rinsed her hair in the running water and when she came up, Lurtz was at her back, strong arms moving to slide over her pale, flat stomach. She closed her eyes and delighted in his touch as large hands moved across her body. She felt safe within the circle of his arms. Turning towards him, she ran her hands down his massive thighs and up his heavily muscled torso. He moved his feet apart to ensure better balance in the moving water before lifting her to sit on his shoulders, facing him. She grabbed his head and held on as he used his tongue on her, ensuring that she would be ready for their union. When she uttered her assent to him, he carefully lowered her onto his rigid member. Because of his large size, he had to proceed very cautiously or else he would hurt her badly. It was the hardest part for him, as Uruk-hai were not well known for their patience and self-control. Once she was in place he grabbed her hips and began a slow rhythm, watching to be sure that she was not in pain. When he saw that her eyes were glazed in pleasure, he increased the tempo, leaning back a little to keep his balance as she wrapped her legs around him. He grunted like an animal as he thrust into her and she did the same, finally screaming out a primal cry into the dark as she achieved release. He joined her, their voices mixing together in a strange duet that shattered the silent night. When he was finished, he let her down so that she could clean herself off again. It seemed as though she was always cleaning herself, but he guessed that elves were like that. He did not wait for her, but simply returned to the others, sated and ready for sleep. Neither he nor Círa bothered showing any other signs of affection, except for an occasional touch. They simply rutted when the need took them and that was enough for both of them.

When Círa returned to the others, they were eating raw venison from a deer that one of them had killed. She grabbed a piece of the meat but an Uruk tried to take it form her.

Growling and snarling, she lunged at him, pulling a knife. Though he was twice her size, he backed away, leaving her with her prize. The Uruk waited until she walked away before tearing off his own piece.

Círa found a place to sit and finished gulping down the food before wiping her hands on the grass. Exhausted from the long day, she curled up on the leaves and fell into reverie, her knife at her fingertips.

~~~~~~~~~
**********
The next day
~~~~~~~~~
**********

Círa watched from the trees as the battle unfolded. She would not fight against this odd assortment of men, elves, dwarves and hobbits. She would have preferred not to watch, either, but the sight of the male elf held her spellbound. He was beautiful and his skill with his elven knifes matched her own. It was possible that he was even better or at least more polished. He had beautiful control of his bow and she admired his skill, though she hated him for killing her companions. She didn’t consider the Uruks to be friends, exactly, and their deaths did not impact her much, but they were all she had and she did feel some loss as she watched them fall. The golden elf moved away through the trees now and she watched as one of the men moved in her direction, trying to protect the halflings. When Lurtz put an arrow through the man, she gasped and wanted to avert her eyes, but was unable to do so. Frowning, she watched her lover smile as the man fell to his knees. This was the part that she hated and could not understand. The Uruks and Orcs liked to toy with those that they killed and it was not necessary. It was brutal.

The Uruk-hai began to leave, picking up the hobbits and carrying them away as they had been instructed. Círa waited for Lurtz, unable to look away as he approached the man to finish him off. At last she closed her eyes, not wanting to see it happen, but her attention was abruptly pulled back to the scene in the woods when she heard a yell. A second man, one with darker hair and a determined look on his face, attacked Lurtz. She felt apprehension as the battle intensified and she bit back a cry as her Uruk was stabbed through the leg. Growling, he pulled the knife out and licked his own blood from the blade. Flinging a shield at the dark-haired man, Lurtz pinned him to a tree, but the man got loose just in time to save his own head. Círa cried out in horror when she saw the sword pierce Lurtz and emerge from his back. Grabbing the weapon, her brave Uruk simply pulled himself further onto the blade, growling as he drew the man closer. She screamed as she watched the man take Lurtz’s arm, then his head, ending her Uruk’s life in an irrevocable split second of time. Fleeing from her hiding place, Círa reached Lurtz even as his massive body toppled to the ground.

Aragorn tried to catch his breath as he watched the body of the Uruk fall. It was crucial that he see to Boromir immediately, knowing that the Gondorian’s wounds would likely prove fatal. The ranger started to turn and did a double take when he saw the elleth running towards him. He watched in confusion as she dropped to her knees at the Uruk’s headless body, throwing her arms around his still form. It was about the last thing that Aragorn would have ever expected to see and he stood transfixed for a moment longer. Remembering Boromir, he went to the man now but kept the elleth in site out of the corner of his eye. She had to be considered an enemy.

When the others arrived to find Boromir already dead, the elleth was still at the Uruk’s side. She was not crying, but she was mourning as she lay across his massive chest. Legolas spied her at once and turned to Aragorn, his blue eyes opened wide in astonishment. The man shrugged. She was not his problem at the moment.

Unfortunately, as far as Círa was concerned, she was very much his problem. Rising to her feet now, she pulled her sword and charged the man. Covered in blood from the Uruk, she looked fearsome as she growled and hissed, lunging at Aragorn. He did not want to hurt her but when she began to get the better of him, Legolas stepped in and grabbed her from behind, locking his arms around her. Between the two of them, they disarmed her, tossing her sword well out of reach. Screaming at them in the Orc tongue, she fought and clawed like an animal as they continued to restrain her.

“What should we do with her?” Legolas asked, bewildered.

“Kill her!” Gimli said, causing her to turn and snarl at him.

“We can leave her here or take her with us,” Aragorn stated. “But I do not think that she will join us willingly and we cannot carry her. I suggest that we leave her here.”

“Let me try to speak to her in Elvish,” Legolas suggested, holding her tightly. When Aragorn nodded, the elf began to calmly speak to the thrashing elleth and after a few moments she turned and cocked her head at him. She stilled and listened to the words rolling off of the elf’s tongue, mesmerized by them. Staring off distantly, she concentrated on what he was saying and the language began to come back to her in bits and pieces. She looked at Legolas and said a few words back to him, not sure she remembered them correctly. As they spoke together, the words began to flow from her tongue a little easier and Legolas was able to learn something about her. Still holding the elleth around the waist, he began to relay the story for Gimli, since Aragorn understood her words.

“Her mother was killed by Orcs when she was very small. They kept her alive for their own entertainment and raised her as one of them. She has lived with them for two hundred years. She remembers little of her time with the elves except for her parents and Lady Galadriel so she must be from Lothlórien.”

“She has the right coloring,” Aragorn agreed, then added in the Sindarin tongue, “You may join us or we can leave you here.”

She spat at Aragorn and lunged at him again, saying some hurried words in Elvish.

“The Uruk that you beheaded was her…her lover,” Legolas said the words with difficulty.

The elf watched as a look of disgust swept across Aragorn’s face.

“It might not be wise to keep her with us and she does not wish it anyway, Aragorn. She knows no other life except that which she had with the Orcs and Uruk-hai.”

Aragorn looked into the beautiful face that was filled with such hatred and he spoke to her once more.

“I am sorry for what I had to do. The Uruk killed our friend and I think that makes us even. The offer still stands if you wish to join us. We may be able to get you back to Lórien, eventually.”

The elleth looked at Aragorn with disdain in her eyes. Looking down her nose at him, she told him that she’d rather live with the Orcs than to be near the one that had killed her lover.

“Are all Lothlórien elves inherently arrogant?” Aragorn asked Legolas, thinking of the Marchwarden, Haldir, as he watched the elleth. The ranger directed his next statement to her. “I hope you find your way safely home.”

Legolas set her free, turning away to tend to Boromir’s body now. Círa stood still for a moment, unsure what to do now that she had been set free. After a few moments, she began to build a pyre for the burning of Lurtz’s body. It was the last thing she could ever do for her only friend. The others were done with Boromir when the elleth was still trying to drag the massive Uruk onto the pyre. They came over and helped her, then stood back as she lit the fire and said some words. Stepping away, they allowed her to grieve alone.

Círa sat in silence as she watched her lover’s body burn. Her Uruk-hai companions had deserted her in their hurry to return to Saruman with their prize. She did not know if she could find her way back alone and wasn’t even sure she wanted to return now that Lurtz was gone. After one last look at the burning pyre, she turned and walked towards the strangers, approaching in time to hear the scruffy man say in the common tongue, “Let’s go hunt some Orc!” She understood little of the language, but she understood that. Her eyes narrowed, seeing that they were planning on going after the halflings that had been taken. If she followed the strangers, they would lead her back to her Orcs. She would stay a safe distance behind, but they would take her where she needed to go. She had nowhere else.

~~~~~~~~~

“Does she still follow?” Aragorn asked the elf.

“Yes,” Legolas nodded. “I am concerned for your safety, Aragorn. She wants retribution.”

“I am keeping that in mind,” the man stated. “It is tragic. I cannot imagine what it would be like for a child to see a parent slaughtered, then to be taken and raised by those beasts. I shudder at the thought of her joining with one of them. I fear that she is little more than an animal herself, yet beneath her rough exterior I sense that there is something of the elf still left in her. I wish we could return her to Lady Galadriel because she may be the only one that could help.” He shrugged and turned to continue their journey. It was time to get moving.

~~~~~~~~~

Círa watched as the Rohirrim surrounded the three companions and she wondered if they would be slaughtered. She held her breath, knowing that she would need them alive to lead her back to the Orcs. Relieved when she saw that the three would not be killed, her relief turned to panic when she saw them mount horses. There was no possible way that she could keep up with them if they were on horseback. Not knowing what else to do, Círa stepped into sight and approached Legolas, ignoring the spears that were now pointed at her.

“Wait!” she said in Sindarin. “Take me with you. I am searching for the same group of Uruk-hai that you seek.”

“Both of our searches may be at an end,” Aragorn told her as gently as possible. “The Rohirrim have destroyed the band of Uruk-hai as well as the halflings. You made ride with us if you wish to see for yourself.”

She stared into the distance for a moment then turned back to Legolas. “I do not wish to ride with him.”

Gimli was transferred to Aragorn’s horse and the elleth gracefully leaped up behind Legolas. She wrapped her arms around his waist and hung on as they raced across the flat land. She could smell the burnt flesh before she ever saw the bodies and when she dismounted she looked at the charred corpses. She felt a certain sense of loss, but nothing like what she had felt when Lurtz had been killed.

“I am sorry,” Legolas said, turning towards Círa.

She shook her head and eventually walked with them into Fangorn forest.

~~~~~~~~~

It had been a long day, and when they finally made camp that night, Círa could see that both the man and dwarf were tired. Aragorn had built a small fire and when Legolas returned with a couple of rabbits, she watched in shock as they skinned the animals then put them on a spit.

“Why do you burn this meat?” she asked, struggling with the common tongue and hoping she said the right words.

“We cook it,” Aragorn said. “Do you not cook your meat?”

“No, of course not,” she said, not understanding why they would do so.

When the meat was done cooking, she was handed a piece but she simply sniffed it at first. It certainly smelled good. Impatient, she took a bite and burned her mouth on the hot meat.

“Let it cool first, Círa,” Legolas said.

She waited a few minutes before taking a cautious second bite. “It is good!” she said, surprised.

Aragorn smiled as he also began to eat. Gandalf had been watching the elleth for a while and he finally spoke.

“What do you wish to do now, Círa? Do you truly want to return to Saruman and the Orcs or would you rather return to your people? Saruman will be defeated and you will be wise to choose sides carefully.”

Crouching on her haunches, she kept chewing, ripping at the meat as a wolf would. Her eyes became distant for a moment before she answered in Elvish.

“I have no alliance with Saruman. He is an evil wizard, a destroyer of all things good. I have stayed with the Orcs because they are all I have,” she admitted, stumbling on some of the words. “I have seen generations of them come and go, and because I lived on, I have learned not to let myself grow too close to them. Lurtz was the exception, but now that he is gone, I am alone.”

“If we could return you to Lórien, would you go?” the wizard asked her.

She looked into the distance again, suddenly assailed by a vivid image of the Golden Wood and the city of Caras Galadhon.

“The elves would not accept me,” she said, certain. “I have been raised as an Orc, an enemy.”

“You may be surprised,” Gandalf told her. “Come with us and when our quest is at an end, we shall try to return you to your real home; to Lothlórien.”

“Yes, I think I would like to see the Mallorn trees again,” she said quietly.

~~To Be continued~~