I wave at the Uruks as Adar carries me off from the camp. My face is flushed from wine, song, and merriment, and another familiar emotion that's been embedded into my being since I first laid eyes on this tall and mighty wrath-wrought elf; lust. Strong, enticing lust.

"Where are you taking me?" I ask my husband. Husband. A word that sounds like an alluring tune in my soul.
"You'll see, love." Adar gives my ass another firm spank, and I squeal with delight. It's not the first time he's carried me like this, and I find it both amusing and possessive. I'm his.

He walks on for a while, following the edge of the forest surrounding the camp before he puts me down. I stand facing him, studying him. "How are you so bewitching and beautiful?" I ask him, my eyes locked on his mesmerizing, pale gaze.
"I could ask you the same, she-elf," he says, a playful smirk on his lips.
"She-elf? That's how you address your wife?" I tilt my head to the side, giving him a frisky smile.
"I hear this one is particularly naughty." He puts his hands on my waist. "Some would say ruined wife-material, though I prefer someone spoiled. I am all marred myself."
"We make quite the team, then."
"Indeed we do; a son born of darkness, an assassin born in the shadows. What didn't kill us, made us unbreakable, and now we stand united; by blood, by heart, by vows and wanting words."
"Husband," I purr.
"Wife." His voice drops even lower than its usual husky tone. He presses my body against his, hands roaming my curves. His forehead rests against mine, our eyes fixed on each other.
I'm unable to speak, too lost in him, too lost in this, us. I've found my shadow's light, and I want to burn with him tonight. And every night hereafter.

His lips clash against mine, rough and hard, and I respond just as desperate. We might belong to each other forevermore, but we can't control the future. It is cunning; it will cut and make us all bleed. What we have, is tonight.
We kiss till our lips are swollen, both panting like crazy.
"I can't wait to tear this dress off you," Adar growls.
"Don't ruin it, I love it. Shaká and Zunn did a wonderful job with it."
"They did. As I said before our vows, you so look lovely and lethal. That high slit alone is enough to command me to do your bidding, to drive me to my knees and worship you. I will try my hardest to preserve it the best I can, but I can't make any promises." His eyes are dark with lust, and I can feel the hardness of him pressing against my pelvis. I'm already soaked, slick with lasciviousness between my legs, so ready to consummate our marriage.

"Turn around, Mordo Nethar," Adar tells me.
Too engrossed with him, I haven't even noticed the scenery around us. Turning slowly, I take in the arrangement made for us under the open sky. Pelts are strewn about, making a bed. Torches burn in a semicircle, and a bottle of wine and glasses stand on a flat stone.
"So this is where you'll have me?" I ask, lashes fluttering. "Under the sky, among the stars, and through the night?"
"I'd have you anywhere, but you deserve the moon and the whole of the sky. Night lives in our veins, and I will make yours simmer with desire." Adar takes my hand, leading me towards the makeshift bed. He kneels before me, removing his gauntlet. His eyes almost pleading as he runs his hand up my thigh, finding me wet. He growls, pressing his face against my lower stomach. He takes a deep breath before biting at the fabric of my dress. The light, yet tormenting friction of his teasing drives me insane, making me gasp with anticipation at what will come next. I know he will stay true to his word, to worship. He's an Uruk of honor, my mighty mate.
I look down at his face, lines of ardor written all over his pale skin, his hands shaking with want as he cups my backside. I run my hand over his hair, my fingertips following the pattern of his braid. I tug at it slightly, making his eyes meet mine. We stare at each other for a moment, fire burning in his eyes, and I know they mirror mine.

He leans back, laying down on the pelts, long legs stretched before him, resting on his elbows. "I give you about a mere moment before that dress is torn asunder. Take. it. off." His eyes are fully black now.
I unfasten the belt at my waist, unclasping the moon that holds the fabric across my shoulder. The dress falls to the ground, and I stand before him bared, save the lace-up boots on my feet. I lean down to undo them, but he growls. "Leave them on, and come here," he commands me.
I walk over to him, an unspoken understanding between us as I widen my stance, him between my legs.
"Leave your pleasure to me, my wife. Come sit on your throne, my queen... Claim all I got to give, and more. Let me worship you eternally." He looks up at me with reverence, hands running up my legs.
I lower myself onto him, his face, his arms wrapping about my thighs. His eyes are possibly wicked as I look down at him, already shivering with too much want. His tongue runs up my slit, and a deep groan escapes him. He licks, bites, sucks, and teases, unnamed constellations mapping the inside of my eyelids. His tongue dips inside me and I lose all control, riding his face like my life depends on it. His right hand slips lower, his thumb pressing against my swollen clit, and I'm unable to stifle the loud moan tearing from my throat. He starts rubbing, his tongue never missing its mark following the pace I've set chasing what he wants to give me, and I come undone, screaming. The exploding pleasure is so intense, I can hardly fathom what's happening to my body. I'm a sobbing mess as I fall forward, catching myself on my hands at the last minute. He's still lapping at my wetness, claiming his price.
"Ahhh-dar," I pant, so overstimulated, I'm unable to gather my thoughts.

Before I know it, he's getting up. My legs are shaking too much to move, but I know he will have me, sounds of fabric rustling behind me. I don't know if I can take his cock this shortly after my fervid climax, but as soon as I feel his shaft between my legs, I angle myself to grant him access, and he slides true in an instant, both moaning at the impact.
"I will make love to you, indis, but I need to fuck you first." Adar grabs my hips, his cock driving into me relentlessly.
He gets no argument from me as I tighten about him, tension burning anew in my wanton womanhood.
I feel his shaft, and his hands, hearing the sounds of our skins slapping, our pants and growls mixing in the air.
Adar roars, his thrusts so hard, my body wholly his to control. I convulse around his length, incoherent words escaping my mouth. He rams himself into me with one, final sturdy thrust, his load filling me up.
Husband and wife united, right and roughly. Just as our love.

---

I'm lying on my back, staring at the stars, a warm feeling of lush love in every fiber of my being. Adar's cleaned me up and served me wine, and now he's lying beside me, naked, hair loose from its braid. His pale skin is almost alight in the moon's shine, his dark veins a crossroad of running life, black blood born from unholy terrors. I turn on my side, crossing my leg over his, my fingers following the lines of a long scar. He told me he got it after a promise of power turned into lies and deceit.

I lean my face closer to his, brushing a soft kiss to his crimson lips, wine giving them a sinful color like he's been devouring blood. But he tastes sweet. Like a dream in full bloom on a summer's morn.

"What if we met in another age?" I wonder. "Under a sky ripe with hope, not clouded with doom and death?"
"I saw you in a vision once, the idea of you, when I was chained and cursed to die." Adar caresses my cheek. "After all I've done, after everything I will do... All I had was the meager hope that someone fair and fierce could ever find it in their heart to see beyond the fear, the everlasting horror of my actions.
I never thought I'd find you, least of all captured and chained, much like myself. Spite was the essence in both our spirits that day, but also a searing connection. And I knew in my bones, my stone-like heart, that you had come.
I've looked into the face of salvation once before, or so I thought. On a mountain top, where wine was poured, and drunken greedily. It was all a lie. But in your face, Mordo Nethar, was no deceit. Defiance yes, an undying spark of vengeance and want, written so plainly, I knew I could trust you.
We're both honed from a deep pit of pain. We've both taken what we wanted, what we sought to be free. I overthrew a threat to protect my children, while you embraced a threat to become its equal. That's how we ended up here, our fates interwoven. I believe entirely this was the time for us to meet. Our story was meant to be written after all we've been through, to face what is still to come." He's still caressing my face.
"Malwen, ninya indis, star of my dreams, write your future upon my flesh. I've been cut too many times in malice, I want to be cut with devotion. Mark the skin above my heart, give me a scar of passion, and taste my blood upon your tongue. With you in my heart, it can turn red again, in a wish."

My eyes are swimming with tears. His words are so lovely, a spell only he can cast, and they etch upon my skin like a poem written with a feather quill. Soft, yet everlasting.
"Adar," I whisper, his name a plea on my lips as I place myself on top of him. Looking down at his face, I am wonderstruck by his irresistible pulchritude yet again.
"Do me the honor, wife," Adar says and presses a knife into my hand.
I look down at the dagger, it's the one I took with me into the woods when I went to fight and kill Scara. The knife that came with me when I embraced my shadow and my dark, desirable future fully. It's symbolic to use it to heed Adar's entreaty.
"Only if you mark me in return," I counter. "I too want to feel the cut of covet."
"I shall," Adar promises.
I hover the knife above his broad, strong chest. I look into his eyes before I slice the unburdened skin above his heart. His guttral groan, not from pain, but from deep pleasure, makes warmth pool low in my belly. Black liquid seeps from the cut, and I lean down to guzzle the blood. It tastes like salt and iron, like sword and shield. He's my protector.
Adar tugs at my hair, pulling my mouth away from the sliced skin. "Let me look at you," he growls. He watches me lick my lips. "Does it taste twisted?" he asks.
"It tastes divine. Not only are you beautiful to look at; you taste beautiful too. You're not twisted in my eyes. You're every bit as untangled from the past as I am. That is the future I crave, that is the future I carve." I run my finger over the cut, gathering blood on the tip, sucking it into my mouth. Then I lean down to kiss him.
His arms come about me, wrapping me in want, his tongue prying into my mouth. I let him devour me.

He rolls me onto my back, kissing me still, his hunger awoken yet again. He's a beast, not to be tamed, but to be set free. I understood that very quickly when we found each other, and threw away the key. Cages unlocked, chains broken, minds unraveled, lust running rampant. He bites my lower lip, sucking it into his mouth. I can still taste his blood, and now mine with it.
"Cut me, Veru," I plead. "Drink."
Adar growls, his lips moving from my mouth to my jaw, nipping at it, before trailing my neck with sloppy kisses.
He pushes himself up from the ground, staring down at me. "Are you sure?" he asks.
"Twin scars for twin hearts," I say. "Dark and devoted."
He sits astride me, his cock so rigid and royal, I want to grasp it and worship him. Leaning over me, knife hovering over my chest, he brings it to its mark, blade slicing skin. I hiss and moan, the cut burning. I feel my blood run warm, and look into my husband's eyes. They are black with dangerous desire. He tosses the blade aside and leans down to sup at my blood, trying not to be too wolfish.
I feel his tongue and soft lips lap at my cut, moaning at the thrill of him tasting me like this. He stops, raising his gaze to mine. "Lissë miruvórë," he purrs.
I expect him to kiss me next, instead he reaches for the dregs of wine, and pours it over me, letting it mix with my blood. He leans down and licks at my skin, his tongue washing me clean. I'm panting heavily, getting even wetter between my legs, feeling the wine run down between my breasts. His tongue follows the curve of my bosom, before twirling around a peaked nipple. He starts to suckle, hard, before he bites even harder. I'm mewling beneath him, reaching for his cock, wrapping my hand around his solid shaft, beginning to stroke him. He groans roughly, fixing his focus on my face, his eyes hazy with lust. He looks savage, his mouth covered in blood and wine.

He lets me work his cock a little while longer while kissing me witless with his demanding mouth.
"Spread your legs for me, wife," he croons by my ear.
He doesn't have to ask me twice as I slip my legs from under him to open wide before him.
"Such a naughty she-elf," he smirks. "So ready for her Uruk."
"Says the Moriondor already dripping for his shadow assassin," I banter as I swipe my thumb over the pre-cum on the head of his cock, bringing it to my mouth, and lick at it.
He lets out a low growl as he slaps his firm flesh against my clit, making me whimper.
He does it again, and again, and I know I could come from his teasing slaps alone. It wouldn't take much to have me coming, chanting his name. But he's a bastard. I might be his wife, and it's his duty to bed me, but he wants me to beg.
"Baukavard," I growl in black speech.
The look he gives me before he rams his cock inside me is filled with infernal fire. And once he's sheathed to the hilt, as am I.

He starts to thrust, leaning down on top of me, seeking my lips. I wrap my hands around his neck, fingers tangling into his hair. I moan into his mouth, the feel of him sliding inside me to the rhythm of our hearts, bringing me at breakneck speed to the edge.
It's not fucking, but it's not lovemaking either. It's ritualistic, sacred, beastly, and natural, as the black blood from his cut smears my chest as my wine-red blood does his.
I grab his backside, driving him deeper inside me, moaning loudly.

"So close," I gasp out.
"Not yet," Adar says huskily, maneuvering us so that I end up on top, his cock still buried inside me. "This is how you come, taking what you want."
It's a command as much as a request, and I'm all obedient. I grind against his pelvis, his shaft so deep within me, I can feel him everywhere. I'm a sphere of flames ready to wreak havoc, and as I crush down on him, again and again, I know I'm going lie waste to us. This is how we end, on our terms, seeking pleasure beyond the pain, the light in the dark, the blood of life. This is how we destroy ourselves, driven to the brink of depravity, forsaking everything else. And when I come, he comes, our choir of release an unholy symphony echoing all around us. I shatter apart, my spirit flung to the far reaches of the world. If my immortality comes to an end for loving a son of the dark so deeply, so be it. I will always choose this.

I look down at his face, a tear running from the corner of his right eye.
"So beautiful she is," he murmurs. "My wife."
"I was promised children once, but never a wife. I'm glad I found you after his demise. It's the only way for me to know this is real and not an illusion to be torn from my mind."
"Something as special as our bond could never have been made by dark forces. Love is the one thing evil doesn't truly know. It might try to mimic it, but it will always fail. What we have will never be understood. It's too unique to be picked apart. All I know is that this, you and me, is the purest form of love, and no one can ever take that away from us."
I lean down to kiss him, my heart still hammering. The feel of him still inside me, joined and still throbbing, makes it difficult for me to land from my flight to the stars. So I kiss him. And kiss him. I kiss him till my mouth hurts, till my lips bleed, till I can hardly breathe. Till the sun rises.