Author's Notes:

!This Chapter Contains K'dzok!

(Located in the latter half of the chapter.)

It's going to be more K'dzok than usual in fact.

If you have a tender disposition, do not read K'dzok.

He is not a nice troll.

Act I Scene X

In Polite Company

"Do I look like I'm not a jerk?" Reiyad grimaced, glancing down at his collared gray shirt. The top button was left undone, the other two snugly closed across the kal'dorei hunter's broad chest. He had a black vest on over it, and his boots had a dull gleam beneath his slacks. He eyed Nathiel's trousers, comfortable boots, light coat, and plain shirt with a slightly worried air.

Nathiel gave him a slightly irritable look. "Does it matter?"

"Nath, if he thinks I'm a jerk, he won't let you hang out with me any more," Reiyad complained, features fixing in a scowl. "You remember what happened with Laous? He met Sylveid, dated her for three months, married her after six, and now we practically never see him."

"She's got an amazing ass," Nathiel replied with a shrug. "Big breasts, slim waist. We never see him because he's busy porking her. They've got five kids."

"Yeah," Reiyad's eyes glazed slightly, obviously recalling the sight of the kal'dorei female in question. "She's amazing in bed. I'd probably be in her pussy all the time too if . . ." He shook his head and cleared his throat. "You told him to bring a friend didn't you?"

"It's probably going to be another guy." Nathiel raised his eyebrows. "You thinking about a little anath'tei'sei?"

Reiyad shrugged. "I might if he's pretty enough. Ambryn is pretty cute. I wouldn't be surprised if he's got some nice-looking friends."

Nathiel wasn't surprised by the open admission that Reiyad might be interested in something outside his usual gender proclivity.

As long-lived as the kal'dorei were, it was more unusual to find someone who hadn't shared bedroom pleasure with someone of the same sex as well as the opposite. The appetite for sexual novelty never truly wore off no matter the race, and after the first hundred and fifty years you didn't define yourself so much by your own sex. Kal'dorei society by-and-large expected it, especially when the heavy majority of the males, in previous ages almost exclusively forming the ranks of the druids, had slumbered in their barrows. The females they'd left behind had vastly outnumbered the remaining males, and among the males it was to be expected as well, though before the return of the male druids it had been rarer. Nature had its own courses, and Elune's light shone down on all unions the same.

Such couplings were referred to as anath'tei'sei, literally translating as "favored-in-kind."

That wasn't to say that individuals didn't have their preferences, just as one might find lavender eyes more appealing than indigo or rose, or light hair over dark. Nathiel wasn't as fond of females as of well-favored males, but he wasn't totally averse to them either.

"Besides," Reiyad continued. "It's not as awkward that way. He won't feel outnumbered."

Nathiel's eyebrows rose briefly at that, but he let the comment lie unchallenged. Even if he preferred Ambryn's company to his fellow mercenary's, it didn't need to be said. "Let's go, or we'll be late to pick them up for lunch."

Ж

"Well . . . how do I look?" Annatta had her lower lip caught between her teeth, expression openly apprehensive. Her pale blond hair was curled, soft and silky and gleaming gently beneath her broad hat, her skirt and waist-coat a pale, baby blue, her blouse snowy white. A single sapphire hung at her throat, suspended by a delicate silver chain. She looked ready for a formal meeting of some sort.

"Lovely," Ambryn said with a warm smile. "It's a little formal for lunch, but it gives a great first impression."

He saw her gaze linger on the much more casual loose green sweater he wore over his shirt and his flowing gray slacks, and winked at her. "I think you'll blow them out of the water."

She pursed her lips. "Are you sure this isn't a little early? The kal'dorei and quel'dorei . . . you know we have a . . . certain history? I just . . . don't want to make things awkward."

"You won't." Ambryn rolled his eyes and waved it off, even though that particular concern had occurred to him as well. Nathiel had specified that he should bring a friend and . . . well . . . to be perfectly honest, he really only had the one.

"He said I should bring a friend and . . . well, you're it," he admitted with a blush. He stepped forward and took her left hand in both of his. "Please come with me?"

Annatta blushed as well, and nodded after a moment. "I did say I would." She smiled brightly, though he could see she was having to make an effort to do so. "We'll make it work."

"Thank you," he said warmly, gratitude entirely genuine. "You're a life-saver Annatta."

Ж

Nathiel had eyes only for Ambryn, stepping forward and twining his fingers in those soft honey curls, tilting his lover's head back for a long, deep, sweet kiss. He looked down into those lovely jade eyes and smiled as that pretty mouth curved in answer.

He completely missed the way Reiyad tensed as he caught sight of Ambryn's friend, barely even registered her presence as he settled his arm around the human.

He lifted his gaze, caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye, and his smile slipped for half a heartbeat as he met her unblinking gaze, her eyes clear and blue as a high, cloudless sky at midday in the heart of winter. The quel'dorei inclined her head slightly, expression remaining reserved. Her clothing echoed that reserve - a little bit formal for the occasion.

"Nathiel, I'd like you to meet Annatta. Annatta, this is the man I've told you so much about." Ambryn smiled, blushing slightly.

Annatta's smile was faint. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir. I feel almost as though I know you already."

Nathiel nodded shortly. "Nice to meet you. This is Reiyad." He looked back at his friend.

Reiyad's expression clearly stated that his hopes of meeting someone to be come romantically involved with had been completely crushed and he was wondering if he shouldn't have packed a weapon instead. His tone was neutral. "Hello."

Ambryn held his breath as he watched Nathiel's expression flicker, apprehension surging. He almost let out a sigh of relief when those silver eyes returned to him, the smile on the handsome face warming once more.

"Ready to go?" Nathiel hitched up his smile as he met Ambryn's apprehensive gaze, and was rewarded with a look in return that was equal parts gratitude and relief. It made his heart beat faster, seeing the way Ambryn responded to him, and he felt the slightest bit smug at seeing the human clearly craving his approval. It wasn't hard to be generous.

Ж

Nathiel Highfury, the man whom all her plans hinged on, both exceeded and fell short of her expectations as she studied him. His was powerfully built, tall even for a kal'dorei, standing almost a head over his azure-haired comrade, body well-muscled but still lean. He held himself with the graceful, deadly air of a born killer, his big hands deft on Ambryn's body, his touch possessive.

She wasn't able to help the way her skin crawled at seeing the way the big male casually laid claim to Ambryn's mouth. She wondered if Ambryn even noticed the way those glowing silver eyes devoured him, the look in them announcing that the kal'dorei was stripping him naked in his mind, feasting on him. The thoughts behind that handsome face were transparent to her, the blatant lust in them enough to make her blood heat as they walked to the lift.

Ambryn called him a gentleman, but she saw a lusting male intent on getting a piece of ass. That lusting male was also clearly a warrior of the genuine persuasion. She had no doubt he'd killed before, done so remorselessly, and would do so again.

She'd just met him, she needed him desperately for her plan to work, and all she really wanted to do was slap him.

Or shove him off a cliff.

"So have you and Ambryn . . . known each other long?"

That was the other kal'dorei, Reiyad. She was grateful, because he was clearly the reason for her presence and had provided her with an excuse to meet Nathiel in person, and at the same time, he made her uncomfortable by the simple virtue of his race. It was only mildly mollifying to know that she probably made him uncomfortable for the same reason. That didn't stop her from wishing that he'd quit making the attempt to be friendly though.

She forced a polite, though still cool smile onto her lips and turned to meet his gaze, hoping he'd chalk it up to nervousness and not a vague sense of distaste. "A little over a year and a half. We work in the same Circle."

He nodded, a hint of a smile curving his own lips. "So you're a mage too then."

"Yes." She studied him for a moment. He was handsome enough, she supposed, trim and muscular, face fine in the manner of their peoples, with a straight, proud nose, a strong jaw, chiseled cheekbones and a well-favored brow, but there was no appeal there for her. "How long have you and Nathiel been acquainted?"

"Oh, about a hundred and fifty years now." Reiyad shrugged casually. "He's kind of like a brother to me, really." Abruptly his smile deepened, silver eyes going to the couple walking ahead of them. "It's good to see him so happy. A lot of us that knew him weren't sure he'd ever find someone he'd settle on. Before he met Ambryn, he . . ." He cleared his throat. "Well, it's good to see him with someone he really cares about."

It wasn't hard for Annatta to reach the logical conclusion. Nathiel was a rake. She couldn't help her eyes from narrowing slightly as her gaze went to the big kal'dorei's back, though she managed to hold in the snarl. "He seems to make Ambryn happy as well," she managed, though not as gracefully as she'd have liked. It rubbed her slightly raw that that was true, not because she hadn't known it after looking at Ambryn turn starry-eyed so many times as he talked about how smart and charming and intelligent and thoughtful and gracious Nathiel was, but because actually saying it when the kal'dorei seemed to be dispossessed of all those qualities in her eyes made bile want to rise to the back of her throat.

The mention of how long Reiyad and Nathiel had known each other raised another question.

"How old is he?"

Reiyad blinked and glanced over at her. "Nath? I think he's around seven hundred and . . . fifty-six?"

Annatta mentally added lecher to her quickly-growing list of Nathiel's iniquities and short-comings, and fought to keep her hands from clenching into fists.

The lift was awful. Nathiel pulled Ambryn into his arms as he leaned back against the filigree and kissed him, not deeply, but lightly, pulling back briefly before kissing him again, the two of them smiling into each other's eyes as though it were some sort of lovers' game as they repeated it. Reiyad had a grin on his face, eyes averted, clearly thinking nothing of it. No, she corrected mentally, he approved of it.

At least Ambryn blushed when they reached the lobby when Nathiel reached down and adjusted the massive bar in his trousers. The size of it was almost enough to make Annatta choke, and the thought of Nathiel and Ambryn . . . she had to squeeze her eyes shut for a moment and take a deep, cleansing breath. She opened them to see Reiyad giving her a knowing grin, clearly under the impression that she was impressed rather than appalled.

Her cheeks were still red as they left the building lobby and stepped into the street.

"You know," Reiyad murmured in a lower voice. "It's probably good you and I are getting to know each other now. Y'know, the best man and the bride's maid."

"Yes," Annatta said faintly. "Lucky."

She was going to go through with it, but by the Light she didn't want to. She didn't want to give Ambryn into the arms of this ancient elf who'd bedded who knew how many others in three quarters of a millenia. Give? In all honesty, she'd pushed him there! Her guilt let out a roar, struggling with its shackles, fighting its bonds, threatening once more to be free.

This is terrible, it whispered to her, no matter the end, how can any good come of sacrificing him to this deadly elder elf? Will you really give up the one you were starting to fall in love with? Are you truly willing to sacrifice him to attain this goal?

Annatta felt her face tighten, fighting back the tears. She folded her arms to hide her clenched fists and choked back the words that burned in the back of her throat, the admission that she'd orchestrated all of this, that she was planning to give Ambryn up to this fate in exchange for her ambitions.

"Are you alright?" Reiyad's tone was faintly concerned. "You look cold." He shrugged out of his vest and draped it across her shoulders. "Here. That'll help you stay warm."

"Thank you," she said quietly, gathering the fleece-lined garment around her.

"I . . . look, maybe I shouldn't have mentioned the wedding already. I mean – I can't honestly imagine anything else between the two of them, but I know females can get . . . emotional over the subject." The kal'dorei's expression had turned slightly worried.

"No that's . . . it's fine." Annatta cleared her throat. "I'm fine," she said more firmly.

"To be honest with you, it's kind of sudden for us too." Reiyad's gaze went back to the couple ahead of them. Ambryn was leaning against Nathiel, and the big kal'dorei had his head bent slightly towards him. He was saying something. Annatta heard Ambryn chuckle warmly, the sound sweet and warm, and above all . . . happy.

"But you know," Reiyad continued. "I kind of envy him, after all those years, finally finding the one. They just . . . it's like they were made for each other."

They did look as though they'd been made for each other. Annatta could see it. She didn't need to see Ambryn's face to call to mind the way his entire face lit up, eyes shining like something softer and more precious than pale emeralds whenever he talked about Nathiel. She recalled the way his magic had changed from the sleepy, gentle warmth to something lovely and effervescent, glimmering with vibrant life after that day they'd met. Nathiel made Ambryn happy, truly happy, and she knew it.

But that didn't stop her from wishing it wasn't him, not this big, graceful, handsome killer who'd lived three quarters of a millenia and looked at Ambryn as though he hungered to do something far worse than simply devour him whole. She saw those large, powerful hands on Ambryn's gentle, fragile body, and she dreaded seeing them crush the life out of him.

"So you two are mercenaries?" Her tone came out a little colder than it probably should have, but Reiyad just shrugged, hands tucked into his pockets.

"Yeah, for Vir Aegeae." The kal'dorei's grin returned. "We're bodyguards mostly. You can bet Ambryn will be well looked-after. Nathiel and I – we've been through some pretty hairy scrapes, but the fare's always made it out alive." He winked. "Well, in one shape or another anyway. See, there was this one time we were taking a draenei mage to Shattrath city . . ."

Annatta let his words wash over her. Her gaze remained fixed on the human mage and kal'dorei warrior who walked ahead of them, each clearly enraptured by the other, her blue eyes intent as she thought hard and fast.

It was the strangest, small little gesture that drew her back from simply grabbing Ambryn and running out of the restaurant, keeping her from leaping off that precipice into ruin for all of her plans.

Nathiel pulled out Ambryn's chair for him, took his hand as though it were finest porcelain as he sat, and held onto it as he took his own seat, taking it ever so carefully between both of his own larger hands and gently kissing the back of the knuckles.

Annatta shook her head, realized that Reiyad was standing by a chair, clearly intent on repeating what was unmistakably a gentlemanly maneuver, and she allowed him to assist her, though (to her private relief) he didn't try to hold her hand.

"There now, all settled," he said with a grin.

Annatta barely glanced at him. She was too busy watching the way Nathiel and Ambryn interacted, suddenly realizing that there was tenderness there, more than mere carnal lust. For the first time, she really looked at Nathiel, saw the way his silver eyes blazed brighter with Ambryn's smiles, the curve of his own lips deepening, the way he was intent not just on the human's body, but on Ambryn himself.

It made her think that there might just be the slightest possibility that she'd misjudged him on first sight.

Maybe.

Reiyad seemed to understand that she wasn't truly interested in conversation with him, turning to Ambryn instead.

For his part, Ambryn himself seemed to think nothing of the fact that they'd known each other for much much longer than he'd even been alive, and Annatta watched as he responded to the other kal'dorei with that same, simple, sincere warmth, welcoming and willing to be engaged. She watched as Reiyad drank it in, as Nathiel did as well, and for a moment, she wondered if she was truly the one orchestrating all this, or if it was Ambryn who was drawing them all into a web of his own making.

Except that she knew, without even thinking about it, that there was no ulterior motive in Ambryn, no ambition, just that kindness, that warmth, instinctive and even somehow . . . wholesome. It wasn't a word she often thought of. It wasn't one she was accustomed to using in reference to anyone but a priest or priestess of the Light, but it was unmistakably Ambryn.

Her guilt came back, rushing over her like a tidal wave, and she had to fight it back, closing her eyes with a rueful smile, because she was being outwitted by someone who didn't know the stakes, wasn't even aware that they were the very centerpiece in a game that could decide the fate of the remnants of an entire people.

"Annatta?" Ambryn's voice was gentle. "Is everything alright?"

Annatta opened her eyes, and smiled at Ambryn, tears in her eyes. The words that came from her lips were a half-truth. "I'm just . . . so glad you're happy."

She couldn't speak the rest. The words were like acid in the back of her mouth.

But I wish it were with me.

Ж

Nathiel held Ambryn close, hating, as always, the moment he had to let him go.

"I'll be back this evening," he said softly in Ambryn's ear.

"I'll wait for you." Ambryn stayed pressed against his chest, eyes half-closed. "And . . . thank you. For taking us to lunch."

Nathiel almost smiled, because he could practically hear the subtext. Thank you for not stabbing my friend even though there's been bad blood between your people for millenia.

"You're welcome." He pulled back slightly, lifted Ambryn's chin gently with his fingertips, and kissed his sweet lips, fighting the urge to pick him up, carry him inside, shut the door with Reiyad and Annatta still out in the hall, and make love to him there on the couch.

That would have to come a little bit later.

When he pulled back, Ambryn's face was faintly flushed, jade eyes shining. Nathiel couldn't seem to get his heart to slow down.

"I uh . . ." He glanced over his shoulder. "Well, we'll walk your friend home."

He turned back around, and couldn't resist one more kiss before he let Ambryn go, letting out a long, slow, deep breath after the door had closed. Then he glanced down at the small, slender quel'dorei female and tried to give her his friendliest smile.

"Well, shall we?"

She looked right back at him with those piercing, bright blue eyes, and nodded after a moment. She didn't smile back. The walk back to the lift was awkward and silent. The ride down was just as uncomfortable.

"So . . ." Nathiel pursed his lips. "You work in the same Circle as Ambryn."

"Yes. He means a great deal to me." She didn't look up as they stepped out of the lift, leading the way out of the lobby and into the street. Then she stopped, looking up at him, clearly not intimidated by his much greater stature. "I'd like to speak with you in private for a moment."

Nathiel blinked. "Okay. We're not exactly . . ."

Annatta didn't wait, leading the way toward the mouth of an alley a little distance away. Nathiel exchanged a look with Reiyad, who shrugged. He'd offered her his vest again on the walk back, but she'd coolly and politely declined. They turned and followed.

"Stay here," Nathiel said quietly at the mouth of the alley. The quel'dorei was waiting a little further down, staring at the wall as though she intended to burn a hole through it. He glanced at her, and then reached down and took the knife out of his boot, handing it to Reiyad, who blinked, and then nodded.

"What'd you want to talk about?" Nathiel didn't try to smile this time. In all honesty, he felt the first mild beginnings of irritation.

She looked at him once more with that flat stare. "Do you know Ambryn at all, or are you just after a piece of ass?"

The sting of his knuckles told him he'd just punched the wall, her words an eerie and altogether unwelcome echo of Belauq's. He drew in a deep breath, pulled back his fist, and studied the back of his hand before lifting his gaze to her. The straw-haired, water-eyed bitch didn't look intimidated in the slightest. "Get to the point," he growled, all his good intentions of trying to be friendly and make a good first impression tossed out the window.

"That is the point." Her voice only got colder. "Is there anything in him you value besides lust? Can you tell me one quality about him besides his looks?"

Nathiel blinked, taken completely aback. He shook his head. "What kind of-"

"Not even one?" Her expression turned to a frigid glower. Nathiel stepped back, fumbled for something to say . . . and remembered the first day he'd met Ambryn.

He'd been terrified, shaking like a leaf, but he'd stood his ground, facing down Nathiel himself, arguing for the life of that damned troll..

Please don't. I wouldn't have his death on your hands for my sake.

I didn't do it for you. I did it for him, because he shouldn't have had to stop you in the first place.

And suddenly it was as though Ambryn was present, only in a way Nathiel had never known – no, known but never thought about before. It was a sweet wash of memory, made even sweeter by realization.

Nathiel smiled.

"He's brave," he said simply.

Wolves broke from the trees, plunging through the snow, kicking it up in a white wake. The Orcish riders slowed and came to a halt in a semi-circle around Ambryn a respectful distance away, probably waiting for a spell.

"He's incredibly brave." Nathiel shook his head. "And just." He looked up at her, saw the ice in her features melt, for all the world as though even here, Ambryn's warmth touched her as well. "And kind."

Nathiel please, please don't do this in cold blood!

Ambryn's answer was sweet, tender, the words unimportant, the emotions underlaying them balm to Nathiel's soul, and when he began to sing, Nathiel could only remain there where he was, on his knees, spell-bound, because he could feel the feeling returning to his body, feel the dream rising around him again.

"He makes me believe in goodness. He makes me believe . . . that there really is a happy ending." Nathiel's smile widened, and his gaze turned to her once more.

Ж

The moment Nathiel smiled, Annatta knew for certain that Ambryn was well and truly lost to her, because Nathiel had stopped speaking to her, had started speaking to his memories, his expression that of a man who had received an epiphany, like one awakened to a true realization of the Light.

He was in love.

He might not realize it yet, but she could see it there, in his eyes. She could hear it in his voice.

It was like painful fire in her heart, a blazing conflagration, like dragonfire.

"All that?" She swallowed, a rueful smile on her lips, tears stinging her eyes, because she realized abruptly that he saw, like she did, to Ambryn's golden heart.

And it hurt. It hurt like a dagger in her breast, because that was a place he could truly reach, and she could only stand a little distance away, never able to truly and fully bridge that gap. Ambryn would never love her the way he loved the kal'dorei.

The way Nathiel loved him back.

She let go of the flames, let them burst outward, shrieking and elemental as they raced over her clothing and her skin.

Ж

Nathiel flinched back from the sudden heat, shielding his eyes from the light of it as the quel'dorei female erupted in brilliant golden flames that raced over her body and gilded her with radiance but did not consume her.

"If you hurt him - if you ever make him cry, I will bring him your smoldering bones."

There was no threat in the words, only grim promise, her tone completely even. Her blue eyes met his through the golden flames, and after a moment, he lowered his hand and nodded.

The fire guttered, died, and she swept past him without another word, not a hair on her head or a thread of her clothing singed or out of place, not even sparing a glance for Reiyad at the mouth of the alley, naked knife in hand, obviously ready to throw.

Nathiel followed a bit more slowly, still lost in thought. His gaze followed her down the street, her walk graceful, even sedate, as though she hadn't just turned into a blazing sorceress intent on blasting him into charcoal if he wavered for even a heartbeat.

"I was thinking about dating her . . ." Reiyad said slowly. "But after seeing that . . . not so much."

Nathiel glanced at him. "Oh?"

"It'd be pretty hot, but can you imagine having to buy a new bed every time you banged her?" Reiyad grinned at him. "You'd spend a fortune in bedroom furnishings."

Nathiel shook his head, but he grinned as well.

Ж

Annatta didn't allow the tears to start falling until she'd turned the corner, pulling a kerchief from her handbag as she leaned against the wall and sobbed, ignoring the looks of passersby. She'd almost lost it. She couldn't let herself do it, couldn't let Ambryn be despoiled by a man who didn't love him, who wouldn't care for him.

Except she'd seen in Nathiel the certainty that he wouldn't allow anything to happen to Ambryn, would stand between him and any danger. The graceful killer would put an end to anything and anyone that threatened the honey-haired human mage. She knew it just as surely as she knew she would do the same in a heartbeat.

She'd jeopardized everything in a moment of fury.

She looked up at the early afternoon sky, and she wondered if perhaps she wasn't alone in her quest, if some god or goddess was helping her to succeed, because that was what she'd done, in spite of herself, in spite of her own desires and misgivings, and worst of all, in spite of the way she was coming to want something else entirely.

Deep inside, she wondered if she'd ever find someone to love her back.

She shook the thought away, straightening, and patted her face dry. She lifted her shoulders and her chin, gathering her composure around her like a royal train, and started walking, whispering under her breath.

"I am Quel'dorei. I am a descendant of KingDath'Remar Sunstrider. I will feed upon nothing but the sun. I will feed upon only purity. I will not be corrupted."

Somehow, the familiar words seemed like cold comfort.

Ж

In the dimness, his curly hair could be mistaken for honey-colored rather than an unremarkable brown, and even if the curls weren't luxurious, they were long enough to tangle his fingers around. His face down in the pillow, K'dzok could pretend his visage was soft and smooth rather than roughened by exposure to weather with a thick mustache above his upper lip.

His breath came in gasps and grunts, K'dzok's arm around his throat restricting his access to oxygen, his hands manacled and bound to the headboard. The room was thick with the scent of mint oil that K'dzok had dumped liberally on his muscular body, mingling deliciously with the smells of sweat and sex and blood.

He slammed his hips harder against the human knight's muscled ass, pounding the thick, throbbing length of his cock into the loosened hole, lubricated with blood and his seed, his balls slapping against the human's tanned flesh. He was getting close again.

He lowered his head, tusks digging in, pressing his teeth into one shoulder, and fucked his prey mercilessly, unrelenting, only picking up the pace. His nostrils flared as his balls tightened, and he bit down as he came, eliciting a half-choked sound of pain, the taste of blood in his mouth. He lifted his head, letting it dribble between his lips, spattering across the human's flexing back, and sat back on his heels.

This one hadn't cried yet, hadn't begged He bore it with silence, obviously determined to be stoic and give as little satisfaction as he could. K'dzok's smile was bloody. He brought his hand down on one toned cheek, listening to the sound reverberate around the tiny, stuffy room. He spanked the other cheek, harder.

"You like that, don't you?" he asked, leaning forward once more, whispering in the human's ear. He took it roughly between his teeth, not hard enough to break the skin, but definitely painful. "You're glad I made you my bitch."

He reached around, digging his hand between the soiled bedding and the knight's abused body, and grabbed his cock, rubbing his fingers in the oily, thick fluid pooling at the tip. K'dzok had fucked a lot of men. He knew they couldn't help coming when he hit their pleasure node, but a lot of them didn't realize it, never discovered it until they learned it at his hands. Every man could be made a whore. Simple friction would do what their minds rebelled against.

"I know your secret. I know you like this. I know you want more." K'dzok abruptly dug his teeth into the back of the human's neck, smiling at the barely-suppressed grunt, lined himself up, and shoved his cock back into the knight's abused hole in one long, rough thrust, feeling displaced cum and blood squish out.

He didn't glance up as the door opened and a troll and an orc walked in, kept fucking the knight, listening to him grunt, teeth dug into his neck. He rolled over, the knight's body atop his, his once again erect cock standing out from his battered body as K'dzok rubbed his penis against that button in his ass that conquered his brain.

K'dzok fucked him harder, then harder still, the sound of his big balls slapping on the human's flesh echoing off the walls, and with a groan, the knight came, seed jetting from his cock, spattering over his hairy chest and belly, dribbling down to his balls. He cried out with each thrust, unable to hold it back anymore as K'dzok plied him with his manhood until he came as well, cum blasting from his balls into the human's snatch.

K'dzok got up, still covered in blood and semen, and gestured to his two guests. "Knock yourselves out."

The orc glanced at him, and then shrugged. "Not much fight in him now, but I won't say no," he said matter-of-factly as he started to unbuckle his belt.

K'dzok glanced at the troll, who simply shook his head, and walked back into the other room.

Nabniath was more or less sprawled in a rickety chair, her legs up on one arm, gnawing on a gnome's femur. K'dzok wondered if she truly enjoyed the taste of bone or if it was simply to sharpen her teeth.

"So, do I have your support?" he asked bluntly.

The other troll, formerly a lieutenant and abruptly promoted after the death of his superior at K'dzok's own hands, nodded and dropped to his knees in front of K'dzok, contemplating the, long, thick fluid-covered cock that hung half-hard in front of his face. K'dzok stepped closer, running his hands through the other troll's blue hair. "You prefer to take it?"

"No," Moag said bluntly. He lifted his eyes to K'dzok. "But I've seen what you can do." His eyes went past K'dzok, to the small room where the bed was creaking once more, two sets of grunts echoing through the open door as Kuruk took his pleasure from the knight's body. "And I know who the real power is. I let you fuck me now, or you rape me like you're going to rape the shit out of Kuruk when he tries to step up to your ground."

"You might actually live through this," K'dzok said in Zul'Amani, amused.

"I know I won't if you suspect I am not yours." The quirk of Moag's lips around his tusks had little mirth in it. "You are the master of the low quarter, and if I serve you well, I may be allowed to dwell in your shadow."

He leaned forward, opened his mouth, and K'dzok's grip on his hair tightened as his tongue flicked over K'dzok's shaft, lips gliding, mouth sucking, throat working as he swallowed the human's blood and K'dzok's seed. Moag didn't pull back when K'dzok began to thrust with his hips, fucking his face, didn't try to make the depth of the strokes any more shallow. K'dzok drove forward until his cock was at the back of Moag's throat, and pushed in further as Moag angled his head to allow him access, continuing to suck.

The smirk on K'dzok's face widened, and he pulled his cock out of Moag's mouth, slapping it against the side of his face, rubbing his slit over the blue-haired troll's forehead and then pushing it back through his lips again. Moag began to bob on his cock, sucking hard. K'dzok bent, grabbed his arms, lifted his hands, and settled them on his hips. His breathing was getting labored, breaths deeper as he neared climax.

Moag increased his pace, holding onto K'dzok's hips. K'dzok came with a low growl of pleasure, running his hand almost fondly through the blue hair as Moag swallowed every last drop. He pulled slowly off of K'dzok's cock and started to rise.

K'dzok's shove sent him sprawling, and he saw a moment of fear in Moag's eyes, but he simply popped a finger into his mouth, ripped off the troll's loincloth with his other hand hand, and jammed his finger into Moag's slot, eliciting a sharp grunt. A moment later Moag was opening to him, yielding, and K'dzok knelt between his legs, cock still hard.

He got on his hands over him, placed the head of his cock at Moag's entrance, and shoved into him. He saw Moag's jaws widen in silent agony, but the blue-haired troll bit back the cry that wanted to escape, his lean, muscular body flexing, faint scars crisscrossing his skin as he writhed on K'dzok's big, thick shaft.

K'dzok grabbed him by the throat, and began to fuck him in earnest. The fear was back in Moag's eyes, and it was sweet to see it there, pleasing K'dzok almost as much as the hot, tight flesh around his slick manhood. He pounded into him, pulling almost all the way out, and thrusting back into him, setting up the same harsh, unrelenting pace with which he'd fucked the human knight.

He leaned over him, and bit down on Moag's ear as he pistoned in and out of his ass, just barely enough to break the skin.

"Let me hear how well you're willing to serve me," he whispered, and thrust with brutal intensity.

Moag let out a deep, throaty groan from the bottom of his lungs, flinging his head back, expression twisted in pain that was beginning to mingle with involuntary pleasure, his hands clenching and unclenching above his head, clawed fingers scratching the worn floor.

K'dzok began to thrust harder, pausing briefly to wrap his arm around Moag's back and pull him upright onto his cock, letting out a harsh sigh of pleasure as his cock sank even deeper. He fucked him, fucked him for pleasure, savoring the other's submission, relishing his power over him, drinking in the fear that he could smell on Moag's pale blue skin.

He owned him, completely owned him. Moag was his to dominate, to control, to break if he wanted to, to leave whole if it was his desire. He increased his pace, the sound of sex reverberating once more, drowning out the noise from the other room.

K'dzok came, and as he did, he heard a loud crunch. He lifted his eyes, half-expecting that he'd crushed Moag's throat in his frenzy of lust, but the other troll just looked back at him, dazed. There was a purr of pleasure from the side of the room, and K'dzok glanced up to see that Nabniath had tired of gnawing and snapped the gnome femur in half, now busy sucking out the marrow.

He glanced back at Moag, whose uneasy gaze returned to him. He was clearly wondering if he was going to be next. K'dzok smiled. He was a smart troll. He laid Moag once more on his back on the floor, still buried deep in his body, and pressed his lips against Moag's claiming dominion there as well, almost as an afterthought. He lifted his head and sat back on one heel, pulling out.

Moag's cock was half-hard, semen gleaming slickly down one side of it. K'dzok took it roughly in his fist, and licked the side of it.

"I own all of you," he said quietly, red eyes burning. "Even this."

Moag nodded, chest still heaving.

"Well isn't that sweet." Kuruk's voice was condescending. "A couple of troll lovers."

K'dzok smirked, and rose. Moag hurriedly got up and backed towards the nearest corner.

Kuruk looked K'dzok up and down, arms folded across his chest. "Thanks for letting me use your slut. Maybe I'll use your other one too."

K'dzok's smirk widened. "You're going to be one of them."

Kuruk's grin faded, eyes narrowing. "Not gonna happen, troll. You may think you're hot stuff, but if you think for one minute that-"

K'dzok's punch lifted him off his feet and the big orc hit the wall hard enough to make the building tremble. Nabniath giggled, an incongruously bubbly sound, broken femur pieces protruding from between her cold, dead lips like ghastly candy.

Kuruk stood halfway up and coughed up blood, supporting himself against the cracked plaster of the wall with one hand. His brown eyes were full of fury as they met K'dzok's, and he reached for the big, long knife at his hip.

K'dzok's smile turned malevolent. "You pull a knife on me, you miss the chance to become my slut. Think hard."

"I'm going to gut you, you stinking long-eared freak," Kuruk pulled the knife and settled into a half-crouched stance, eyes narrowed. He charged, knife swinging.

K'dzok side-stepped the thrust, swept his legs out from under him, and punched downward.

The orc's spine gave with a wet crunch much deeper than the one that had echoed through the room moments before and he let out a shriek of unbelievable agony. K'dzok regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, then sat down on his back, eliciting another shriek as shattered vertebrae grated under his full weight. He grabbed Kuruk's knife arm in one hand and grabbed the knife in the other. It wasn't very sharp, but K'dzok's enhanced strength was equal to the task, and Kuruk let out another long wail of mortal agony, lifeblood pumping from the stump of his wrist.

K'dzok got up and smiled at Nabniath, who bounced girlishly to her feet.

"For you, babe," he said generously. He glanced down at Kuruk. "I know you generally don't eat 'em alive but . . . I figure you might like to try one a little raw." He pursed his lips. "You don't like the face, right?"

Nabniath shook her head. "Too much gristle - all that cartilage just doesn't chew."

K'dzok glanced at Moag. "You can take it back to the Scar Knives after she's done eating."

Much like Moag, Kuruk's replacement Alfrang was much more amenable to going along with K'dzok's plan, especially with Kuruk's face stretched across a piece of board above the fireplace in the basement where the Scar Knives met.

Come on Mraugon, K'dzok thought as Alfang grunted and moaned beneath him, his clawed fingers digging into the orc's back. I'm going to chop your fucking head off, have it stuffed, and put it on a fucking wall.

Ж

Author's Post-Script Notes:

Ladies and gentlemen, I am about to get on my soap box.

I don't just write fanfiction on this website, I read a lot of it too. And some of it is, unfortunately (as many of you know) retarded. Today's soap box editorial is brought to you by the complete lack of comprehension that people seem to have for Night Elf (Kal'Dorei) society.

In particular, the assumption that night elves are somehow going to be oppressive, particularly in the bedroom, is absolutely ludicrous. For starters, their society (supposedly) is tens and thousands of years old. Compare that with our own, which has existed for a fraction of that length, and society's evolving and more enlightened attitude towards homosexuality. If we're already starting to realize that the fact that someone is homosexual doesn't mean they are automatically a demon, then think of how much more intelligently a much, much, much more developed society is going to regard it and a lot of other things.

Add to that the fact that the night elves themselves live much longer than your average human (I don't need to repeat the clichés – most of you have heard them) and you're going to have people who are, generally, a lot more mature, or at least a lot more experienced than their shorter lived counterparts. Imagine if you were twenty-five and you'd lived for a thousand years. That lust for sexual novelty isn't going to wear off, and penis or vagina is going to get hum-drum after a while, no matter who you are.

Point number three – the lack of Abrahamic tradition. Now please don't think I'm pointing a finger at anybody's religion, but that's frankly where, historically, you see the most repudiation of homosexuality. Prior to the rise of Christianity, homosexuality was, at least in Western civilization, accepted, even honored (Sparta & Greece, various other locations in the Mediterranean, Persia, what would eventually become Europe, and a good portion of Greater Asia, though I can't speak for Africa or South America.) In Azeroth, you simply have the Light, which simply dictates that general benevolence is a good thing and isn't too restrictive on shape and form.

For point number four, you should take into account that for thousands of years between wars, there were no men! (Or at least very, very few!) Most, if not all males, were druids, sleeping away the ages in their barrows. Suddenly you've got a massive female population, with little or no access to males for sex (and remember, since they were immortal, they didn't really need to procreate like most races do) and you can bet that Betsy the Huntress wasn't going to satisfy herself with her fingers for five thousand years.

Lastly – take into account the way they dress! In their first appearance, the night elves (including druids of the talon) were very scantily clad. An oppressive society is not going to have scantily clad people. Period.

In conclusion, for anyone who's actually stopped to think about it in an intelligent, adult, mature fashion, the majority of Night Elf society is going to be almost transparently bisexual. That isn't to say people aren't going to have their preferences, but they are also going to make do.

Of course, there's love (Tyrande and Malfurion, epic example) which is the rule-breaker and overwrites lust (in a good relationship anyway).

Ok, I'm done with the soap box.

Much credit once again goes to Seripithus, who suggested that stopping to take some time for my original characters that I've wanted to develop more would be a good break in the good old chapter grind, and boy was she right! Once I sat down to write this chapter it poured out like water, and I loved it.

Well, I loved the first part. K'dzok I have a sort of I-hate-you-but-I-need-you-for-the-plot relationship with.

Much thanks also goes, once again, to Dusty the Umbravita, for helping our two gentle lovers come closer in soul as well as flesh.

I leave you with my customary request for constructive criticism and ideas where I can improve my writing. Help me be a better writer, and I'll give you better stuff to read.