milliways_bar | (no subject)

"It looks really, really squicky," Asar-Suti says, thinking of the scenes in the first movie. "Erm, so I hear, as there are no orcs any more."

Briefly, he wonders what would happen if an orc turned up in the bar. At the end of time, anything is possible - even orcs.

"That is well, for they are vile, evil creatures that would eat you as soon as look at you."

"I read that their ancestors were actually moriquendi, Elves that never went to the Undying Lands, were cuaght by Morgoth, Sauron's former boss in the First Age, and tortured to become those vile creatures," Asar-Suti says.

He read the Silmarillion, and remembers it well.

"It is strange that of all the creatures in the multiverse, only these orcs that never chose to become such are totally without hany hope of redemption?"

"Some beings are so completely evil redemption is simply not possible, I suppose. Redemption comes from desire," he murmurs, eyes going dark as he remembers his own actions towards Frodo before he fled. "But it is not enough merely to want. One must do."

"You know, my former enemies would have sworn that I was so completely evil that redemption was simply not possible; I was, after all, the Seker, the foul, noxious god of the Ihlini, manifesting in violet fire and smoke," Asar-Suti says, a bit darkly. "All of my former enemies in this place that I have met have become friends, one way or another - apart from one who hates me still. Still, I could be redeemed. My former follower Lochiel, who actually practically did the evil in my name could be redeemed. Only those orcs come with inbuilt eternal damnation?"

Asar-Suti is astonished to find himself quite ready to discuss this point with Boromir, to even admit to having been evil himself.

"Perhaps, in order to wish for redemption, you must first be aware it is possible. Whatever was your cause to change your path, it was enough to make you change your ways. Orcs, I would say, are not taught of such things as mercy."

"They are made, they are bred, they are taught, or not taught - they sounds o utterly passive, mentally. Were I to take a newly hatched orc straight from its slimy pod - sorry - and taught it all those things, what would that make him?"

Asar-Suti shrugs. The dilemma of the orcs has always been an interesting point, and here he is, discussing it with somebody who has actually fought the creatures. Boromir, actually, he reminds himself, having to keep his face from incongruously grinning.

"Perhaps an orc could be taught mercy and tenderness." He shrugs. "Perhaps all your lessons would go to waste. I cannot say. I just kill them when they try to kill me."

Asar-Suti nods.

"The 'try to kill you' part is rather decisive in a paractical view of matter," he agrees. "Almost anybody would kill a whatever that tries to kill them. I I don't know that I would attempt raising an orc and trying to teach him non-orcishness, just for argument's sake." It sounds like work.

"And you did say there are no more orcs. I for one will not miss them."

"I will not miss never having known them, I suppose, but I am terribly curious at times," Asar-Suti admits.

"What with the bar being at the end of all time and all the multiverse, some might turn up here from when they still existed - like you did as well. I hope not, though."

"I hope not as well," he says darkly. "They will certainly do no good."

Asar-Suti nods.

"They would be trouble, at least," he agrees.

"I have to go now, though - there is a party tonight that frineds of Gil's invited to, and I need to turn myself properly festive for that. I hope to see you around as you continue to discover life in here!"

Asar-Suti bows to Boromir, and wanders off.

Boromir returns the bow, bemused and slightly touched by his farewell.