It's almost morning before Adar and I make our way back to camp, Adar claiming me several times through the night under the dark, starry sky.

I feel soar all over, but every inch of me also feels so completely accepted, so utterly cherished, I'm so light on my feet, I can almost fly to touch the dawn breaking on the horizon.

We're walking side by side, Adar's bare hand holding mine. He stops abruptly, and I have to turn around to look at what caused his sudden halt. Sensing no danger, only his intense stare, I swallow hard. Does he doubt I will end Feiron if I face him in battle? Does a sliver of his spirit doubt my devotion and efforts to join his vengeful war, come what may?

"What is it?" I ask. I can't read his face. Whatever it is, it runs deep.
"Marry me," he says.
"What?" I'm stunned. Our journey to this moment has been a storm of emotions from the very beginning. Only yesterday I stormed off ready to die for my long-sought revenge against a warg. Adar's been keeping a menagerie of beasts that killed my company a secret from me, and I've just learned that my betrothed isn't dead.
Adar and I've been fucking, and fighting, but mainly we've been falling hard for each other. Falling, and being caught. And I never want his hold on me to ease. Without it, I will fall apart.
"I know we're bounded by blood, by your loyalty to me, and to my children," Adar starts saying.
"But I also want to bind my heart to yours." His eyes are like a pale sky, vast and endless. "Marry me, Mordo Nethar. Become my wife, my queen, the ruler of my depraved heart. It will only ever answer to you. It's been yours to keep, ever since we met, Malwen."
Tears run down my face. I want this Uruk so much, I can't breathe.
"Yes," I say, stepping closer to him, placing my hand over his heart. "I will marry you, become your wife and your dark heart's keeper. As you are mine. My past was a cage, wrapped in chains, the key to my freedom so out of reach, I felt I was diminishing little by little every day. Until you. You didn't take me, you salvaged my shattered self. And I will follow you till the ends of the earth."
Adar's eyes are misty. "Till the ends of the earth," he declares, placing a soft kiss on my lips.

---

A few days later after my encounter with Feiron in the woods, Adar and I lay tangled in our tent, sweat coating our skin.

"Are you excited about tonight?" he asks me.
"That I am. I have no idea what a Uruk wedding looks like," I giggle.
"Would you rather like an Elven one?"
"Considering we've broken every rule and custom known to our kind, I can't think of a better way to get married to you; a loud, filthy, feast with my new family." I run a hand through his tangled hair.
"No one's more loud and filthy than you, darling," he growls.
"In that regard, I think we make a pretty good team," I smirk.
He pulls me on top of himself, making me sit astride him. We're just coming down from a climax, but he's ready to take me for another ride. Correction, he wants me to ride him. Slick with traces of him and my own want, I slide down on him, moaning at the impact. Joining with him will always leave me in awe, with a sense of feeling full and free. No judgment, no hesitation, just unrestrained love and lust.
I splay my hands on his toned chest, his skin warm, his heart hammering, and I ride him to the beat of it. He grabs my hips, thrusting hard upwards. I'm mewling loudly, gasping his name. Thoughts of him becoming my husband, of him and I forever, of doing this forever, is enough to send me over the edge, my body's tension ripped apart by a surge of overwhelming release. I throw my head back and my arms wide. I'm flying, eyes closed, feeling him, every inch of him, reaching the highest peak. And I never want to come down.
Adar joins me, his dark wings beside me, around me, claws breaking skin as we mount the top together.

I collapse on top of him, legs still shaking, a soft purr by his ear. "So, is it an Uruk custom to fuck the bride before the wedding?"
Adar's laugh is husky, his fingers running slowly up and down my back, caressing my skin with his war-beaten hands. "When it comes to you, nothing's customary, it's instinct, pure and undiluted. My mind, body, and soul know what it wants, and you so willingly sate my cravings, precious.
I've never known love like this, this kind of lust. This urge to form a mystical and unbreakable bond with another being. When I first saw you, ready to shred your flesh and having you beg for mercy for your actions, I felt the knife I was ready to draw already falling from my hand, as if hurting you would hurt myself. It was like... There you were.
I know we still have much to learn about each other; our pasts are beyond complicated and full of trife. But how wise it is to dwell on it, must be considered. If we should declare it dead, or die with the heavy burden of it. To move forward is the biggest strength of all, and see how far we've gotten, Malwen. Should we not seize it?"

Enthralled by Adar's speech, the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear, I rise to look at his face. A face of a thousand stories, a thousand lives, and in this moment I am in one of them. The only one that will ever matter. My past is dead, and I didn't die with it. I took the tortured hand that wanted to help me heal. Now, I'm stronger than ever. Feiron might live, but I move forward without him. I grab the dark promise before me. "We shall indeed seize it," I state. "It's the only way to survive."
"To endurance," Adar says. "To blood, ash, flames, and shadows."
"Into darkness," I add.
"Into darkness," Adar whispers.

---

I'm currently alone in our tent, mulling over a past declared dead while taking a warm bath. I'm excited beyond words about my future as Adar's wife, but I let my mind wander to Feiron. To our everlong engagement, promises made in a meadow of flowers, before war and perpetual darkness. In hindsight, it was always me, dillydallying about setting a day for our official union. Months became years, me telling Feiron that the formalities wouldn't change what we were, so why rush? Instead, we were herded into battle, and promises were broken.

I knew I was waiting for something else, just out of reach, in the shadows, lurking. Turns out, it was me. Someone set aside from the norm that befell my kith. A mind of rage and bloodlust. A mind of want and desire.

I hope Feiron somehow knows, deep down, that we were never meant to be. He was my knight, but I became my own savior. He held onto a dream, even when blood spilled and the sun rose red. I let my promise to him flow with the onslaught, till it became a memory of something that once was. Its fade kept me going until it disappeared completely, and in its stead, something - someone - true took its place. A son, a father, a leader. A lover, a friend, and a mate. Someone eternal.

I rise from the wash basin, feeling cleaner than I have in days. Running around with Uruks, and wargs, sparring, taking charge, and following orders, takes a toll, but I let the efforts of our mission engulf me with renewed vigor every day. I'm here because I chose this, with my whole heart, and after tonight it will forever belong to my Heru. He commands it, wields it, keeps it, and I will always let him. It's my wish, not my weakness, to follow him onto perilous paths. I do not do so blindly, but with my eyes wide open. Feiron would have thought me delusional, but I am so aware of my depraved state of mind, it's my new nature. I am dangerous, and Adar wants to marry the beast within me; claws, fangs, and fur. Only he can tame me and make me purr.

I dry off and am just about to grab a new set of garbs, when Shaká and Zunn, two Uruks I've gotten to know over the past weeks, enter my tent. I stand there naked, pale skin on display. I have no reason to be modest. I'm the naughty she-elf after all, loud and lewd. What Adar and I do is very obvious to the Uruks. Only some younglings wonder now and then what's going on here and there. Just like when Sorogrim thought Adar was more or less torturing me down in the tunnel in my first days of captivity. Funny how pleasure and pain can sound the same, but feel so different. I've grown accustomed to both, and in life, there's balance needed. It takes and it gives, though I of course favor the feeling Adar gives me, both in my body and soul.

"She-elf nice and clean for her wedding?" Zunn asks.
"As good as it gets, I guess," I reply.
"We brought you your dress," Shaká says.
"My dress? I didn't..." I start saying.
"No, but Adar did," Zunn interrupts, unfolding pitch-black fabric.
I look at it, stunned, wondering how they managed to create this costume. It's so un-elven like, so risqué. It got a super high slit leading up to the hip, fabric draped over one shoulder, held together by a piece of metal shaped like horned moon. Slim silver chains dangle from the shoulder as well, and a black leather belt is meant to cinch the waist.
"It's gorgeous," I gush. "Who made it?"
"We did," Zunn and Shaká reply in unison.
"It's perfect."
"Well, better put it on, can't have you marrying Lord-Father in nothing but your skin," Shaká chuckles.
"I don't think he'll mind," Zunn smirks. "But might be inappropriate for the rest of us."

---

Night has fallen by the time I exit the tent. Zunn and Shaká have been brushing and braiding my hair through trial and error for hours. Thin rings of light metal are threaded through some of them, and a dapple of blood colors my cheeks, and lips.

Outside torches have been lit, making a path for me to follow. I was not allowed to venture outside the tent today; Adar wants everything to be a surprise. It's safe to say I'm mighty curious about what to expect. I don't want anything grand; I just want to proclaim my love and loyalty to Adar.

Sorogrim stands waiting, come to lead me down the path. "Looking good, she-elf," he greets me.
"Thank you," I blush. I have no idea how I look, only that I don't look like an elven bride, but a bride of sin and shadows.

In the darkness of the night, the dirt and the work done by the downtrodden slaves look less glum. They are locked up after a day of hard labor. I'm still a little torn by them being used to dig and drag on this quest for destruction, but they made their choice, and so have I. And tonight, the final kernel within me will know no doubt, only resolute.
I embrace my future, and my future husband with open arms, come what may. United we can face it all, and whoever stands in our way will feel our wrath, mine as well as his. Ruthless, merciless, swift and violent.

I will not let my mind wander down the path of war just now, just a path of wonder and warmth. Walking beside Sorogrim, passing through the throng of Uruks, I make my way down the lane leading me toward my heart's chosen one. The one who's made it beat harder and faster ever since we met.

And when the mass of his children part to reveal him, my mouth parts in awe. He's half turned away from me, not wearing his armor, but dressed in all black; a black pair of trousers paired with a black shirt, silver threaded pattern around its neck. His trousers are tucked into tall, dark boots, and the spikes on his gun metal gauntlet are gleaming in the firelight. His dark hair is groomed back, fishtail braids by his ears, and a thicker one runs down the back of his skull. In the dark of night, he's looking more Elevn than Uruk, but I know the color of his blood.

He turns around to face me, my jaw's fully slack by now. He's so mighty fine, all sharp cheekbones and intense eyes. Eyes that roam up and down the length of my form, taking in the details of my dress, the slit that exposes my hip with every step I take towards him. His throat bobs while he blinks away a sheen of mist from his eyes. He looks rather gobsmacked, so I give him a wide smile, tears shining in my own eyes. This feels so right, so true, and as his right hand entwines with mine, his touch sending sparks every which way through my being, I know I'll always choose this. Him. Over everything. Over my own life.

To be continued...