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Chapter Fourteen
'Strength and Weakness'
'Königin' by Heldmaschine
The crenelated dagger entered the jaw penetrating the skull easily. The orbs the color of the human blood still held onto a speck of life and that underhanded intent. Thin fingers grasped the matted locks, the weapon was freed, entering the neck it severed the spinal cord. The rigid body remained in the upright position almost unnaturally before thumping to the scabrous floor tiles of the Gundabadian throne room. Thick black slid off the edged notches dripping into the abhorrent puddle at his feet, the dark figure peered into the dead eyes for one last time before tossing the bloody body part to the Orc's underlings.
"You threaten mine you die." It uttered in an assured yet somber tone smearing the blood onto the fallen male's fur throw. Before returning to the throne the master circled the corpse surveying the mime highlanders.
This Orc was quite a lot shorter than an average size Boshok and even possessed much more height difference with the massive Gundabadians. His small stature explained possibly the ever present light yet durable armor and the quartet of bodyguards positioned on the both sides of his regal seat.
"Now, back to the matter." The commander uttered directing his black eyes onto the Grey Mountain group. "The deal stands still. You watch our northern borders. You answer to us. In turn we provide beasts."
x x x
At the Gundabad valley's entrance the cliffs stood tall and proud as two unmoving sentries, a thin blanket of snow dusted their peaks. A soundless snarl distorted his light grey lips as he watched a battle-weathered, dark Warg pass through the defile that separated the aforementioned crags. Azog's nostrils flared, he recognized the rider. Black hair, pallor hide... The Pale Orc's algid eyes narrowed with lividity yet there was a discernable shadow of excitement at the impending blood to be spilled emerging within their depths. This one he did not expect a betrayal from. The male's lengthy, muscled body straightened oblivious to anyone who could spot him...
The King of Gundabad has returned to assert his claim.
Astride their beasts the group sprinted towards the colossal rust wreathed gates. Shapogatâr's Warg came to a stop at the edge of the courtyard yet before the commander could dismount a shout of agony echoed from aback. From behind a fallen rider a massive form began to manifest from the morning mist.
The eyes widened astonished by what was seen...
At the Raven Hill he witnessed the king's lifeless body himself... Azog advanced. New snow crepitated under the heavy boots... He was no apparition...
Perhaps dead do come to life...
No news ever came from Moria following Sâkaf's return. The commander's cheekbones lifted emphasizing his jawline, fingers grasped the hilt...
The Pale Orc came to a halt towering over his second in command. His warmth depleted eyes met the golden ones with purpose, Azog levelled his blade arm cocking his head. His upper lip shuddered in a forming snarl, the incisors came into the full terrifying view. Yet to his utter disgruntlement the commander of Gundabad returned his stare rid of any guilt. The Defiler's chest released a rumble, he began to circle his opponent as if taunting, challenging.
Loyal to the death, yet had taken the first opportunity... Azog glared taking a skilful jab forth. The knife-edged blade reflected the sharp rays of the morning Sun to be deflected by Shapogatâr's rerebrace. The half-Orc sidestepped promptly to avoid the following onset. Nothing but the enraged growling was that left the Defiler's throat, his eyes in turn gave away the distaste and the sinister intention. Betrayal was always met with death.
In a turmoil of a fight the arrival of another was left without regard. The black Warg stood sniffing the frigid air feverishly, a rider clad in the armor just as obscure as the mount's fur. Both were silent, as if taking in the scenery, as if frozen by the merciless winds.
The beast's snout lifted in a sudden howl, the Orcs froze finally paying mind to their surrounding. Both pairs of eyes landed onto the Black figure, Shapogatâr's reflected worry, Azog's contempt. The rider stood transfixed still. Nothing but an odd sound has left its throat. Too small to be a grey highlander yet its posture had an aura of regality, the quiet strength... The dark armor covered the every possible inch of the body, even the head was concealed beneath a helmet that resembled a carnivorous bird. Without a word he nudged its beast into motion.
Yet who could have expected the Defiler to ignore such utter disrespect. The Orc male lunged and the figure astride tumbled off pummeled by his massive body. The frail frame was in his grasp, pinned against the rocks of the courtyard, Azog's blade rose to press against the throat.
Aback of him Shapogatâr unsheathed his yatagan.
Yet it wasn't the half-blood's blade that halted the onslaught. The Pale Orc snarled baring his canines inches away. Amazed at the lack of resistance he sneered sucking in the air with a whistling inhale. Suddenly he was splayed flat on his back, feeling the rocks dig into his hide. The world hazed just for a moment as a scent of mountainous blooms wafted to his nose. Azog leapt to his feet grasping at the rider...
His stomach was heavy as if filled with mortar, the heart sped it's beating tenfold. Could the destiny or whoever writes it pull another one of its cruel tricks, instill just enough hope so the fire still burns, yet for what purpose..? He felt as if his lungs could not inflate any longer, with one pull the black helmet relinquished its hold freeing the tresses of dark copper. Even longer than he remembered they cascaded her shoulders contrasting the arcane armor.
In one swoop the heartache, the guilt, the crushing pain he felt were void, they retreated leaving nothing but a trace... His always assured, strong arm trembled so much he had to let her go as if burned by the contact. The Pale Orc's eyes shut heavily yet did not stay closed for more than a few moments.
It was no trick of vision."Rimkaurizub..."
It was her. His knees gave in...
Azog inhaled deeply as a myriad of emotions danced across contorting his scar etched features. Truthfully he was afraid. What if he makes a move, a wrong one, one that makes her vanish...
She lived.
The deep, burning embers finally locked his stare, her lips quivered yet it was obvious she attempted to remain poised.
The human took one step forth.
"I hope you understand..." She let out, her voice audible barely. "I did all this for him." The winds teased her locks letting them flap as a fiery flag, her lips pressed together into a firm line. Fingers were the tightest fists.
And just as quickly as she entered his life once again, she vanished into the depth of the stronghold. A quick, formal nod in parting.
x x x
In the murk of the passageway Rimkaur braced herself against the wall. Her armor produced a screeching sound as she slid into a pile of emotions. All the strength she'd gathered, every part of her body had given out. Her surroundings were a dim blur, ears rang, the sensation of his grasp still constricted her limbs.
He is alive. A deep sob sent an iterating echo down both sides of the hallway, the tears obstructed her vision even more. She was drowning, bound by intense emotions, weak and strong all the same, all over again... As she sat atop her beast it's as if the blood had seized its flow rendering her body useless. Seeing him again...
He is alive...
How was it possible..? The light left his eyes... The last breath parting his lips shattered her heart... She died that day, in more ways than one.
A new voice full of distrust rose within her. All this time... It let out in a hissing whisper. Did he search for you... At least attempted..?
Would you still place your life at his disposal? He's failed you... It bellowed from the deepest corners of her mind.
Was his mind still chained by the darkness..? Rim's fingers pushed against her cheeks as they clenched. She spent her all to convince him two long years ago only to fail...
Yet she would have spent much more to bring him back to life that day...
He is alive...
Rimkaur's arcane gaze fell onto her open palms as her fingers formed fists. The scrupulous voice stood in silence as she came to another realization herself. Those hands held much more then she thought she ever did.
Here, alone in the all consuming darkness, why is she not in his arms..? Perhaps she couldn't answer that question herself.
There were tears arising from the corners of the ice blue... First time she saw him cry...
The distant echoes of the Black Speech brought her weak body to life as once again the woman evanesced into the shadows.
x x x
When you do not see someone for a long while you still remember their appearance, their features but do you recall their scent..?
He did... And it left the large Orc dizzy. It was stronger now, intoxicating, it took over his senses... Azog recalled burying his face into those soft tresses, letting them slip through his fingers...
She lived...
His head spun. One who mattered the most... Her image pervaded his dreams all this time... Rimkaur is alive...
"Who was him?" The Orc's bottom lip trembled and contorted. Those thoughts had never occurred to him before and now that they did, now that his mind began painting the corresponding images his teeth gritted to emit an unnerving sound.
Him...
The shod iron produced a rhythmic clangor, it echoed the walls growing even more ominous. Azog strode in surveying the grey walls, it's been so many years...
But the fight he had earlier anticipated would not happen... There was no resistance... The knees buckled almost at once as if on command, whoever was present in the throne room knelt before the Defiler.
"Shakhizub... Shakhizub..." The numerous whispers iterated the structure.
He strode further towards the massive seat adorned with iron. His throne... Azog lowered heavily burdened by so much more. He expected the taste of blood to quench that rage that burned inside him alike an eternal fire. She extinguished it immediately, her gaze was as cold as that lake... Now his heart was filled with so much he felt it thumping in his throat... His mind was somewhere else...
"Âdh!" The large Orc bellowed to his subjects.
The King's gaze trailed the vast structure once more... The eyes shut then opened with the renewed vigor. The rush of air leaving his lungs was audible... Her scent lingered still. Pitching his nose in a feverish inhale he was on her trail.
x x x
In a mirk enveloped corridor even before his scent hit him, the male's ember eyes stood out against the darkness as the Defiler turned the corner in his brisk pace. The second in command held the King's stare.
"I've found you on the ice... Bloody, lifeless... Her by your side..." The half-blood inhaled sharply. The words left his lips deliberately as if he wanted to emphasize each one.
"As rid of life as you were... Curled up against your chest... All those years..." The hardened soldier's frame slacked suddenly.
"The hardest day of my life."
He picked his head up abruptly.
"It had to be her?" The half-Orc's voice vibrated in an undertone reiterating unknowingly the same fact the King of Mirkwood came upon.
"About a year ago she came here... Alive... I witnessed my firstborn to be a different one. Untold agony radiated her darkening eyes."
The Pale Orc's eyes glassed, his incisors held his lip as it began to twitch. The feelings descended onto his shoulders crushing his will power.
"But then she revealed him. Your son." The commander's stare returned to meet the pain fractured ice blue. "The reason she kept on living. She's been through so much..."
"Lûk?" Azog's exhale hitched.
The commander of Gundabad straightened suddenly, detaching something from his belt his passed a medium sized pouch to his King. The dark liquid burned yet instead of dulling the senses it brought them further into the existence.
The former mercenary gestured into the murk and an Orcess stepped forth, she had someone with her... The ice blue lit up the pitch black... The same way the Defiler's eyes had always cancelled the darkness.
"Ashlûk." Shapogatâr smiled. "Kranklatub."
"Krank..." Little Ash blinked hard, the Orcling's gaze traversed upwards the massive frame. "Krankizub..." He exhaled as the surprise painted on his features began to slowly be replaced by curiosity. The left corner of the lip curved upwards the eyes narrowed. A gesture so akin to his father. "Dur!"
Without uttering another word the Orcling sprinted forth attaching himself to his sire boot. "Da!" He exclaimed. Shapogatâr let a smile upon his lips. There was so much he could see in the master's eyes... The load lessened if only a tiny bit...
"I helped her reach what she had become." The half-blood's voice softened tremendously. "I would do anything for her and your son... I only hope you will do the same."
x x x
Ashlûk spent more and more time with his father. The little one was quick on his feet attempting to copy and keep up with his sire. He earned a tiny shoulder pelt marked with the emblem of Gundabad and insisted with unusual vigor to someone his size that his loin-cover be customized by adding the rib-guards his father sported once again.
Rimkaur rested on the floor her legs crossed, the worn out toddler passed out on the pile of pelts after the whole day outing into the peak encased valley two hours Warg ride from the stronghold. As usual the Orcling returned with a plethora of trinkets and little things he would always pick up along the way.
The young woman inhaled deeply marvelling at the torch lights dance on her son's bone white skin. The feelings that inundated her being this past couple of weeks caused her to have experienced many odd sensations. Her nerves crawled, skin alnernated between ice cold and as hot as you couldn't bare to keep your clothes on. She spend nearly the entire time in a sort of a disguise as she called it, raven-haired and ink-eyed. Recalling grandmother's hints she sank her teeth into her bottom lip, her palms covered her ears as if that way she could have stopped those persistent thoughts.
She knew the reason...
The woman extended her sinewy arm forward. A firefly had suddenly froze in the mid air, buzzing louder at the sudden paralysis. She let the insect go and the tiny flicker of light circled in waves above Ash's bed before disappearing into the gaping window. Rim relaxed her hand extending her fingers forth as if pointing at something unseen. If she can transfix objects and beings perhaps... A wooden bowl jerked and tumbled when she caught it hurriedly simply by moving her fingers. Her eyes lit up and widened this wasn't something she could ever accomplish. Ash stirred and flipped as sentries in the courtyard laughed louder than usual. Rim's arm was still in the mid air, the lips parted to release a small waft of astonishment, nearly transparent at first the fluid matter grew wider and longer seemingly emitted by her fingers.
The reason why she could never reach her full potential was...
The mass grew darker, longer resembling a ribbon ripped away from the arcane wave her grandmother saved her with. It snaked through the air as she controlled it directing it towards her boy. She touched his hair stroking it tenderly and the youngling rolled back into the comfortable ball under his blanket. As she led the whip like shadow down his cheek unexpectedly the dark grey mark of a bruise he'd acquired earlier vanished without a trace. The shadow switched to his tiny palms, he scraped as he fell and they were free of the injuries likewise...
The eyes suddenly golden again quickly pervaded with tears upon the overwhelming profundity of the realization. That day at that algid lake... The gaze fell onto the palms... Was she ever capable..? To bring him to life...?
The voice inside again asked the question. Why is she not in his arms weeping in joy? He seemed to have proven himself dedicating all the time to their son... Hasn't rallied for war or revenge... There was no more dark master in this corner of the world... Could she forgive...
Talk to him... The heart whispered gently. Talk to him...
x x x
The darkness crept slowly into the window left ajar. The spacious chamber wasn't lit, only the moonlight illuminated its occupant faintly. Azog leaned onto the wall, his back uncomfortably straight, he sat on the pelt haphazardly tossed onto the ground. The Orc came to sleep in the other side of the separate wing. How many days has she been avoiding him now..? Every time he came to see his son she as if knew, vacating the room in advance... There was always Ash and Dauman... Here and there he felt the faint traces of her scent... That was all he had to satiate with.
Had the love left her heart... Were his deeds inexorable..? The male unearthed something small from his belt pouch squeezing it in his large palm.
A flicker of light came to its vibrant life in the window opposite his, quite a distance separated them, a length of the sky bridge that connected the two wings. His heart jolted and stilled, she was there. Small ivory hands raked the lengthy, damp tresses that cascaded down onto the light cover she wore. Azog tensed suddenly taking in a deep, shuddering breath he blinked heavily but looked on. That gown stuck to her wet skin becoming transparent, the nipples lifted the shirt attracting his stare. One of the palms slid down her neck, the young woman leaned forward as if inspecting something in her mirror without knowing she was being watched. Her thin fingers trailed the bite mark. The one he inflicted more than two years ago. The Orc King's rigid fingers grasped the polished rock of the windowsill with the force that could surely crush it. That bite attested to the claim no one else could break or cancel, yet somehow in the back of his mind he still expected someone else's arm to suddenly snake around her waist.
His mate... His Gazoghâsh...
Muted and pained growl rose to life in his chest. Her digits caressed the tiny indentations...
Fingers as claws around the windowsill clenched tighter grasping in rock crevices. The sensation, the feeling, her smell were hard to control igniting a fire not easily extinguished. He became aroused, painfully so, he needed her in more ways than one. The convulsing muscles of his limb eased releasing the vice-like grip, the tunnel vision overcame his gaze as everything in front of him was a blur but that illuminated window...
x x x
The bold rays of sunshine burst in the early morning. The air was still bound in chill yet the golden beams managed to warm the skin. Rimkaur's lids fluttered sleepily as she heard the scuffling Ash.
"Ma!" The Orcling leapt onto the pelts then rolled over to tuck himself against her chest. "Dau, me go meadow."
The young mother opened her eyes to see the toothy grin inches away from her nose. Rim snorted a laugh.
"Be careful, my love. I will join soon..." Her fingers ruffled his lengthy hair.
The sleep pulled her into its arms and she'd drifted off...
All at once a female's shriek iterated the corridor, then another. And then a current, a debilitating wave of someone's thoughts swept over Rimkaur's blurry, slumber encased mind...
Dauman...
Panic...
Tears broke the surface, she shivered overcome with the chilling terror. Rim straightened, suddenly so faint on her feet.
In the corridor the flickers of torches and stomping of feet... Dauman carried him and a sob tore Rimkaur's chest. She staggered...
'Ashlûk...!'
She took Ash into her embrace, he looked so small now... A deep laceration ran the width of his torso connecting both shoulder blades. His pallid face mired in his mother's scorching tears...
The heartbeat... She sobbed in relief.
The crushing pain and distress radiated his tiny being. A cry of wrath and her own agony tore her chest. The Pale Orc witnessed her transformation as she lifted her void black eyes up at him. The darkened ink took over eating away at the bright cheerful tresses.
He cannot be taken away... Not so soon... Azog's nails dug into his palm drawing blood.
The trembling sentry passed something to his master. The Defiler's fingers constricted the lengthy object until it snapped in two clinking onto the smooth stone walkway.
The Dwarven arrow.
"Ready the riders!" He roared at the nearby soldiers.
Azog lowered heavily next to Rimkaur and Ashlûk as the arcane ribbons obscured them in her fury.
Black Speech:
Boshok - Highlander
Âdh! - Leave!
Rimkaurizub - my Rimkaur
Dur - Large, big
Gazoghâsh - Wildfire (One of the nicknames Azog has given Rimkaur)
Dauman - Winter ( A trusted, older caretaker that helps Rim)
Lûk - Son
Krank - father
Kranklatub - your father
Krankizub - my father