When Adar, Father of the Orcs, survives the betrayal of his Children thanks to Galadriel, the two start a dangerous journey exploring the power of the Elven Ring Nenya, while an unusual connection seems to bond their mind and souls.
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The following day Adar showed up at the same place, as promised. The blue flowers of the tree were starting to slowly wither, and some of them had fallen on the ground. Adar picked one of them up and started to distractedly play with it, lost in his thoughts.
If Arondir wouldn't come - which he felt sure of - he would have to find other ways to feed his children. He had survived for thousands of years, taking care of thousands of them - a hundred hungry orcs weren't enough to excessively worry his heart. The reason behind his request to Galadriel was deeper: creating the basis of some kind of connection between Orcs and Elves.
Adar knew it was an impossible goal - the two races had nothing in common. There were good reasons for hate from both parties, a hate that had grown with time. But how could he miss the opportunity that had opened up when Gil-Galad allowed them to live under Elven protection? What if his original idea to ally with the Elves against Sauron had just been postponed until both races were mature enough to fight together? Sauron perfectly knew Galadriel and Adar's minds, and the only chance they had against him was to do something unexpected. He was sure an alliance between Elves and Orcs was something even Sauron wouldn't be able to foresee...let alone love. He should admit, at least to himself, that his plan to bring the two races closer together wasn't solely strategic anymore.
He couldn't deny what he felt for Galadriel. Something that had started softly with the light of Nenya was becoming a connection of minds and hearts that transcended rational reasons, and he had sometimes dared to think of Galadriel as a possible... mother to his children. If only she could understand the suffering they endured under Morgoth and Sauron and see them as creatures that, although brought to life from darkness, could be redeemed and find their place under the blessing of the Valar...
He shook his head, throwing away the withered flower in his hand. His thoughts were going too far. He had only a hundred children there, and the majority of the population of the orcs was now under the complete control of Sauron.
A noise caught his attention, and he felt a presence behind him. He quickly turned and saw Arondir standing fiercely in front of him, his hand nervously caressing his bow.
Adar's expression didn't show his surprise; he squared his shoulders and greeted him.
"Adar" the elf answered, as if saying that word was the most difficult thing he had ever done.
Arondir had forgotten Adar's Elven appearance - he found himself wishing for him to look scarred and deformed again like the Uruk that ruined his life. Detesting him would be easier if he looked like the Uruk he got used to hating in his sleepless nights. He couldn't help but feel unsettled by Adar's gentle face, who looked too wise and calm to justify Arondir's ongoing anger against him.
He cleared his throat, then said "Galadriel said you wanted to talk to me about the Elvish bread".
Adar nodded, studying Arondir's expression. He knew how to handle the conversation - he had thought about it since the day before. But was Arondir ready for what Adar had in mind?
