illwynd: (Spooky rider)
[personal profile] illwynd
Orc's Halloween
by illwynd
Disclaimer: All Tolkien's!
Rating: PG
Characters: Orcs.
Notes: A bit of silliness! And yes, the Orc in this story is the same fluffybunnies!Orc from The Mouth. He just has a name now. :D
X-posted to [livejournal.com profile] spooky_arda, [livejournal.com profile] lotr_fanfiction, and [livejournal.com profile] lotr_eclectic.

It had been after his third raid that it occurred to Umluk. The group of men he and the others had crept up on and done battle with had been in the midst of some unusual doings… they had been gathered around a little fire, feasting and drinking and laughing and telling tales. As if the day were something special… like a celebration. Later, he had gone to his commander with a question.

“Do we get holidays?” he asked, towering over the shorter (but far more vicious) Uruk.

His commander had looked at him, expression horrified. “Why would we get holidays, you maggot?”

“Well, so we could celebrate things. Maybe birthdays…”

“Do you know your birthday?” the commander asked with a foul and disdainful laugh. He had a point—even if an Orc had bothered to ask such a question of his elders, it was doubtful that they would have noted the date of that occasion.

Struggling past the interruption, the big Uruk continued. “Or celebrating changes of seasons, that could be nice!”

The other Orc snorted.

“Well, I think it’s a good idea. It seems like all we ever do is kill things and destroy things and pillage things. I think it might be fun to… I don’t know, have sweets, or give each other presents.”

His commander promptly gave him a whack upside the head. “Have you been stealing my liquor again? Because that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Or how about something with bunnies? Everyone likes bunnies…”

“Roasted?”

The tall Uruk shuddered. “No! Alive, and hopping around! It’s very springtime-like.”

“Over my filthy and rotting corpse you can have bunnies.”

Umluk almost thought for a moment that this might be arranged, but then thought better of it when he caught the malicious glint in the other’s eye. “All right, no bunnies then. What about… perhaps we could decorate a tree?”

“No. Trees are for chopping down and burning.”

“Well, something with plenty of candles, then? And singing?”

His commander sniffed. “Not a chance.”

“Or something with lots of food?” Umluk said, getting slightly desperate. His commander seemed slightly more open to this idea, so he went on, describing lustily the sweet and savory delights of a proper table. He was so wrapped up in the idea that he didn’t notice the other Uruk’s nose turning up in disgust at the dainties he described. When he did notice, finally, he trailed off. He didn’t have any more ideas. Dejected, he wandered away, feeling eyes on him, and rough laughter following. He was distressed for a while at the realization that he had cemented his status as an outcast within the company, but distracted himself by trying to come up with other ideas for a proper Orcish holiday.

That night, an idea came. He liked it. It could work. It was a good idea.

There weren’t many unsmashed pumpkins to be had, but he found one. And the Orc-o’-lantern he carved was the best… well, the only… one in Mordor.

~end~
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