A week has gone by since Umog examined me and I haven't thrown up since. I don't know how I feel about it all, if I want to be with child or if it's happening too soon. In war, time is precious, and in the conquest of new land, lives will be claimed.

Adar and I are sparring on the training field. He gave me my dagger back the day we were attacked by the rioting slaves. My twin daggers, sword, bow, and quiver awaited me in the tent the first night we came to camp. It's like he knew he'd give them back to me, all lined up and polished, waiting to cling and sting on the side of the Uruks, by his side.

Adar's sword clings against mine; he's been trying to disarm me for a long time, but I've been deflecting his every try to get the upper hand. He's smirking, clearly amused by my skills.
"And here I thought you'd be sullen, not able to best a she-elf," I grin.
"Oh, you haven't seen anything yet, Karanzol," Adar growls.
I bite my lip. "Then have at me, Burz Kurtil," I chuckle.
I've been learning a few new black speech words every day since we arrived at camp, asking him how to say this or that, words like sword, bow, arrow, and dagger. Naughty words as well, which gets him going with such vigor when we fuck, making him reward me so generously, I think we're gonna tumble outside the tent from his unchecked thrusting and sexy manhandling.
I'm lost in deep, dirty thoughts, and Adar takes advantage of my weakness; him. My grip on the hilt of my elvish blade falters, but only momentarily.
I twirl, my blade following in an elegant arc, coming down hard on Adar's steel. He advances, our swords criss-crossing in rhythm as we move across the field. Adar's sword swings at my legs, but I jump up, leaping into a forward roll, coming up to a full warrior stance, both hands on the hilt, my beautiful blade gleaming in the sun. Adar comes towards me, all tall, mighty, and brooding. I take a swing at him, but he ducks and slides effortlessly away from the impact. I grunt, getting somewhat irritated, warrior instincts taken over fully, the assassin lurking right beneath the surface. Adar can tell. I roar, coming at him. Steel crashing so hard against his, the clash reverberating up my arms. I don't want to hurt him, but I want to win.
Blades cling crossed, our faces so close, eyes locking. I get shortly sidetracked, his eyes blazing bright in the daylight, casting their allure, my stomach doing a summersault at the jolt of lust set ablaze inside me.
Suddenly I find myself in a sword chokehold, smacked hard against Adar's front, his left hand around my waist, his right holding his blade against my neck. "Do you yield?" he growls into my ear. I'm panting, his free hand roaming over my curves like a slithering snake. I gasp when he grabs my right breast, his tongue against my neck.
"Surrender," he demands. "And you will be rewarded."
I moan, tempted to throw my blade away, but I'm too damn stubborn to stop now. I want him kneeling before me, begging for mercy.
"Never," I growl back.

I slip my sword beneath his and force it away from my neck, spinning around to trip him onto the ground. He falls hard, unable to brace before impact. I feel a bit bad for him, hearing the wind getting knocked out of him, his blade slipping free of his grip.
I stand astride him, pointing the tip of my steel to his chin. "Do you yield?" I ask.
His eyes are black; vexed and smoldering. He snarls, and even though he's lying there flat on his back, he looks ready to pounce.
"No," he rumbles.
Before I know it, I'm falling forward, hardly able to steer the blade away from his neck before it pierces the ground beside his face. His long leg kicked me in the back, toppling me over. I land on my hands and knees, my chest aligned with his face. He grabs my waist, flinging me onto my back, knocking the air out of me. We haven't been this violent with each other since the first time we fucked. When I wanted to hate him, to hurt him, but I lusted for him too much and caved in. I remember running my tongue over his mouth, drawing a grown from him that undid me. That was the start of this twisted thing. This twisted love. A love I do not want any other way.

My mind's back in the tunnel, pressed against the earthen wall, legs around his waist when he pins my hands down above my head, sitting down astride me, holding me firm on the ground.
"Yield, Mordo Nehtar," he growls in my face, his breath hot against my lips. My eyes are wicked with rage and unfaltering want as I stare up at him.
"No!" I say lifting my head from the ground, crashing my mouth against his, laying claim to him like a lethal dragon protective of its trove of gold. He is my twisted treasure, my divine disease.
"But I fucking love you," I gnar against his lips; our mingled breaths a sultry steam in the air. He groans, letting go of my hands, and cupping my face in his own.
Suddenly he pulls me up towards him, backing off me, and we get to our feet.
"I love you too, my cruel creature," Adar grins, his face fiendish and oh so fine, tugging me to him, not a sliver of sunlight between us.
I whimper with want ready to beg him to take me. He kisses me hard, parting my lips to probe with his tongue, and all I can do is gasp and moan. Suddenly I feel something sharp poking at my back. His dagger. "Yield," he says again.
"This again?" I ask, chuckling. "You know I won't go down without a fight, and I'm still standing."
"Thanks to me," Adar says. "I pulled you to your feet."
"Might be," I start saying, grabbing his free arm, and twirling out of his grip once more, the dagger nicking my shirt and skin. I run for my sword, pulling it from the ground, and turning around to attack him. Using quick grace and pace, he's before me in mere moments, leaving me no time to respond. His hand comes about my neck and he's got me in a chokehold. Our eyes lock, flint striking flint, simmering sparks between us. "I knew I'd best you somehow," he smirks. "In my grasp, you are utterly defenseless."
I can hardly breathe, but I don't care, I know he won't kill me, he's just showing me how undefeatable he is. How unbreakable his ancient warrior spirit is.
"Do. You. Yield?" he drawls.
"Yes," I gasp, staring into his dark eyes, his stern face. His grip lessens some. "Yes," I gasp again. He walks closer to me, eyes fixed on my face. My heart is pounding in my chest and I find it hard to breathe for completely different reasons than his hold around my neck. He's my inescapable illness, my festering fiend, and if there's a cure, a ritual to purify my depraved soul, I don't want it. I want him. And I'll do anything to protect him, to save him, to have and to hold him just the way he is; his past, present, and future. "I yield," I whisper, throwing away my sword.
"Good," he says, his voice dropping low. His hand loosens around my neck, his thumb coming up to rub against my lower lip. I part my mouth, panting. He's so close to my face I could stick my tongue out and run it across his lips if I want to, but he beats me to it. I melt into him, moaning loudly. I can hardly stand upright, his might weakening me into a pulp of pure desire, and when he suddenly lets go of me, I fall to my knees, breath ragged. He walks away, picking up our swords. He's got his back turned to me when I ask; "Are you just gonna leave me here? A wanton, wet mess too lustful to function?"
The look he gives me when he turns around, sheathing his sword, is so lovingly lewd I want to crawl towards him and worship at his feet. He walks over to me; pulling me to my feet, handing me my sword to put it away. "No," he says. "I'm not going to leave you here. I'm gonna claim my prize, and even though you're a sly fighter, I will reward you," he growls.

Before I know it, I'm thrown over his shoulder, his gloved hand giving my ass a firm spank, making me squeal. He marches through the camp like a true-born alpha, carrying me towards our tent.
He tells the nearby Uruks to scamper in a very authoritative voice. They do, their eyes wide seeing me tossed over his shoulder. I know whatever he's got in store for me, it's going to be very loud, and extremely hard-core.

---

He throws me down on the mattress. "Take off your clothes," he commands. I don't hesitate, throwing my daggers and sword onto the floor, clothes following shortly. He's quick to shed his weapons and clads too, and he's fully naked before I am. I drop my last boot onto the ground. He's impatient, seizing my pants before I can react, pulling me towards him to rip them off me. I'm already damp between my legs, and he can smell the glowing lust in me, growling his approval. He uses my legs to twist me onto my stomach, telling me to get on my hands and knees. I do as I'm told, tension in every fiber of my being. He gets onto the mattress, hands feeling me up, grabbing my ass. I can feel his shaft poking at my wet slit and I hiss with anticipation.
"I love how you're always ready for me, my dagalushuurz karanzol," he gnarls behind me.
"I can't speak on my kind's behalf, but I've never been pure. Impish suits me just fine," I purr.
"Pure deserves punishment, mischievousness must be rewarded," Adar says, his hands running over my back. "You want it," he asks, his voice a husky, erotic whisper.
I swallow hard. I love when he asks if I want him to fuck me; if I want his cock inside me.
"Give me the meat," I say. "And give it to me raw!"
Next thing I know he's ramming his rock-hard shaft inside my slick cunt, making me cry out as he stabs my womanhood with untamed force. I gasp, his mighty length bottoming out.
"Ahhhhh," I mewl as he grabs my hips, the nails on his right hand digging into my flesh.
He thrusts inside me with a steady pace, summoning tension from all corners of my sinful soul. Ever since we met, he's ignited an unquenchable blaze inside me. He makes me burn like a firefly with his darkness. I need it, I want it, and I lust for it constantly.
He pulls his cock almost all the way out, leaving me pleading to feel his rigid flesh inside me again. He rams his manhood back in with a stern thrust. He does it again and again, pounding against me till I'm ready to untether around his shaft, moaning loudly at every impact, my knuckles white from grabbing the furs beneath me.
He does it once more before pulling my back towards his front, his tongue licking the trickle of blood on my back from when the dagger cut me during our sparring. Then he bites my neck, making me squeal with pleasure and pain, his teeth breaking skin, blood running hot down the slope of my neck. His tongue licks at the blood, his hands holding me hard, his cock ramrod straight inside me. He grabs my breasts, pinching my taut nipples, before his right hand ventures down my south, touching me between my legs. I'm panting rapidly, his fingers rubbing my clit just right. "I'm gonna come very soon if you keep this up," I manage to say in between my moans.
He growls against my hair, sitting down on his heels. I straddle him in reverse so I'm more able to ride him. He keeps rubbing at my clit with his right hand, his left grabbing my long hair, tugging it, exposing my neck so he can kiss and lick at it. I slide down on his cock fully, his hand working up a storm at the apex of my thighs. I'm so ready to be wrecked like a ship on a stormy sea, and I do as the waves of pleasure crush down on me, destroying me fully in their tempest. I scream out at the top of my lungs, flashes of lightning dancing before my vision as I convulse around his cock, my soaked cunt sliding up and down his shaft like there is no tomorrow, only this moment in time. A sliver of space carved to hold only us, an engulfing rapture taking us both into dark oblivion.
Adar roars, sitting up, his hand leaving my cunt as I'm once again down on all four, taking all of him, his hands branding my hips as he slams his cock inside me fiercely. "I'm gonna demolish you," he gnarls, and I whimper. My womanhood is burning from stimulation, but I feel another climax approach as he fucks me senseless. I scream into the furs trying to silence myself this time as I come again, coming with him, Adar's deep guttural sounds mixed with black speech undoing me once more.
"Let me hear you!" Adar commands, tugging my hair, burying his cock deep, deep inside me, his shaft slick with cum. I wear out his name, utterly destroyed from pleasure.

---

I'm breathing heavily still, laying on my stomach, resting my head on my crossed arms. Adar's lying beside me, nails and fingertips running up and down my spine.
"Malwen," he croons.
I raise my head to look at him. He's still naked, lying on his side, head propped up on his arm. His dark hair is flowing wild and free, his pale face slightly flushed from sexual exertion, lips swollen from rough kissing. He's so devastatingly handsome and I can hardly phantom he's mine. That he's been fucking me inane just minutes ago. He's laid claim to me, and I to him. A battle might be only days away, but I rest soundly knowing we will head into this war together.

"You do not yet know the full extent of the havoc we will release upon these lands," Adar suddenly says.
So this is the moment he chooses to tell me? Long have my mind wondered, guessing, adding two and two together, trying to come up with an answer to his plans. A small part of me hasn't even wanted to know, what I've sworn myself into, enjoying the sweet bliss of ignorance while laying with the man I've come to love so deeply, the One be damned; I rather burn with my mate than live with the light.

"You know the key I've been looking for, the ancient relic said to be found by a boy?" Adar asks. "Yes," I swallow hard. Has he been found? Will another child be added to the count of lives already slain? I saw the cages back in the tunnel; I walked past them every day, people young and old crying for freedom, their small and feeble hands reaching towards me. I walked by like a statue cast in stone, showing no emotions, offering no salvation, only death.

Adar curls a strand of my dark, brown hair around his index finger, staring into my eyes, his long lashes casting shadows onto his high cheekbones. "That key," Adar starts saying, moving closer to me. "That key will ravage these lands and lay it in ash and shadow," Adar says.
"How is that possible?" I ask.
"Orodruin," Adar says. "Will no longer slumber once the key is turned."
My heart is pounding in my chest, the only sound between us.
"But ho..." I cut myself short. "The tunnels?!?" My eyes widen. Of course.
"Water fill flow like blood under the ground and wake the sleeping lava that will end the Southlands as we know it, and from the fire new life will rise." Adar's eyes are dark, his face stern. "Long have this plan been set in motion, and soon we will see the triumph of our turmoil."
Our turmoil. The two words carry so much weight; the people I came to save's turmoil, the Uruk's turmoil, clad in garbs to cover their skin from the sun, a scorching orb simmering their skin till bubbling blisters. I witnessed it myself during the riot; the enslaved men and women knew to rip the cloaks off the Uruks to make them burn. Turmoil...
We're all thrown inside a calamitous hurricane heading for ruin. Who will stand when the wild wind stills? Who will pick up the pieces of a broken past and form a new and fruitful future?

"I see the conflict in you," Adar says.
I've twisted onto my back and he's hovering over me, caressing my cheek as if he's trying to soften the blow he just delivered in shapes of shadow and slaughter. So many will die before the Uruks can cast off their sun cloaks and be free under a sunless sky.
"But they deserve to be free," I mumble, voicing my trail of thought. "Your children deserve to roam free in a land customized to fit their nature."
"Yes," Adar purrs, bringing his lips to mine. "For them, it's all for them."
My heart melts, his paternal instincts for his kith and kin warming my soul. "And for you," he adds.
"Me?" I ask perplexed.
"Yes, for you too, my darling," he kisses me again. "In the gloom, I can better protect you, and keep you safe from harm. My children will fear nothing, and will fight fiercer and more foul than ever to keep their lands safe." He smiles. "They crave shadow as I crave yours, Mordo Nehtar."
"Then let me wrap you in it", I say and smirk, wrapping my arms and legs around him, kissing his jaw, and aiming for his mouth next.

---

Suddenly there's a voice outside our tent. "Lord Father," the voice says. I recognize it as Duluk's, one Uruk I don't see very often. He's stationed at the far reaches of the camp I've been told.
"Yes," Adar says, eyes still fixed on me. 
"I need to speak with you," Duluk says.
I untangle my arms and legs reluctantly from Adar's form, letting him rise. I watch him get dressed, covering his strong, long legs and toned torso. He steps outside, leaving me to contemplate whether to get dressed or not as well. My rumbling stomach settles it for me. I get out of bed, looking for my pants. They're close to the entrance. I move to grab them, and overhear the mumbled conversation between Adar and Duluk; "She's not returned. She's been gone three days," Duluk says.
Adar sighs. "Scara, my sweet," he says whisper-soft.
I pull aside the flap to the tent, watching Adar run a hand through his hair in distress.
"Who is Scara?" I ask.
Adar freezes, realizing I'm there. He turns to face me fully, anguish written all over his pale, beautiful face.
"Who is Scara?" I ask again, my heart starting to pound faster. Whoever she is, she is dear to Adar.
"Malwen," Adar says, walking towards me. "I need you to understand," he continues.
"Who. Is. Scara?" I ask sternly.
"She's a warg," Adar replies, holding my stare.

---

The night my past life ended flashes before my eyes. The night a gruesome warg tore him to pieces. The night a warg killed my betrothed and my blind rage crowned me the Shadow Assassin.