Chapter Six
Daughter of the Defiler
Wargs snarled and snapped at each other behind fences which did nothing to keep them in. Ithildae watched the massive wolves with curiosity, they seemed smaller than she remembered now that she was taller. Azog was paces in front of her, his pale back bright even in the low light of the warg pits.
"Why did you want me to come with you?" She asked.
"If you are going to fight with us, you need a warg."
"So, I will be choosing a warg?"
He scoffed.
"They only choose Orcs who are strong enough to ride."
Ithildae started looking around at the different wargs, they were drooling and snarling. Azog muttered something and she saw that his white warg had come to greet him. She was not held behind any fence or boundary. Warm moist air tickled the back of her neck, Ithi turned and faced the alpha female.
Azog watched his warg sniff and carefully look over his daughter. Naurlûl made no growl or snap when Ithildae held her hand out, palm up. The Matriarch warg gave her hand one lick and then lowered her head enough for Ithi to run a hand through the coarse bristles on her snout.
"She likes you." He grumbled in his chest.
Naurlûl snapped at the air with her fangs and turned around. She paced back through the other pens to one which was open, a nice patch of earth was cleared for a spot to lay. There was commotion from the other side of the pit and Azog rounded and made an irritated noise. Ithildae stood still, realizing that the commotion was gradually coming closer. The Orcess flipped her head just in time to see a warg barreling past Azog and other Orcs desperately trying to catch it. Its fur was an ashen gray with eyes of a molten amber. A nasty scar travelled down its muzzle.
The warg stopped only inches away from Ithi's face, hot saliva dripping from its jowls. She stared the warg down, it was not attacking her. A rumble came from Naurlûl. Ithildae tilted her head as the wargs heavy breathing slowed and it sat down in front of her. Her pale hand extended and stroked the softer fur under the warg's chin. Ithi looked down underneath the warg for a moment. A female warg.
"I don't think you are supposed to be out." She mused, still petting underneath the warg's chin.
"Aza!" Azog snarled in alarm. "That one is dangerous!"
At his approach, she pulled away from Ithi and rounded on Azog defensively. He stopped and looked at her.
"She has killed any who try to touch or ride her."
Ithildae stroked her hand down the female's neck and stared her in the eyes.
"Why are you being nice now?" She hummed, the warg closed her eyes, "Ash."
Azog came closer and watched them.
"Hiisht? Ha, she must have wanted a female… Gave us all that trouble."
Hiisht snarled and touched her snout into Ithi's stomach.
"She knows her own kind."
The Orcess felt the eyes of others on her back. She turned and saw multiple Snaga with whips at their sides gawking at her and the feral warg sitting docile at her side.
"Shoulda known you would have chosen that one." A new and gruff voice said from behind them.
Zuzar walked up the row and waited for Ithildae to make eye contact. The silver-haired general turned his focus to Azog, he had a smug look on his face.
"Always had a feral side to you." He muttered, halting by Azog he changed to Black Speech: "We have word that a Wizard is entering the fortress… The magic is holding but he's gonna know."
Ithildae's brow twitched. Which wizard was at the doorstep? Azog looked to her and then up at the wargs around them.
"Let him come." Azog uttered. "I will greet him. Summon together a group, with wargs."
"At your command." Zuzar nodded.
"Aza, go with him. The troops must see your face."
Ithi held back the curl of her lip, she felt like something on display. But she allowed herself to fall into stride beside Zuzar as he left the warg pit. The more who saw her the better, they would know who to leave alone.
"He seemed to take that well… Better than I thought he would." The general said in a quiet tone.
"Aye, he was shocked but he recovered."
"You've got this place in an upheaval. Azog's own daughter returning, alive, with Elven training. Some don't believe it."
She remained silent as her eyes caught on to the Orcs moving in the shadows and passing them. They didn't hold back their awe or disgust at the sight of her. Ithildae made aggressive eye contact with one of the Snaga and he cowered away under her gaze. Azog's sharp icy gaze had been passed to her. And they knew it.
"We are going to the Forges?" Ithi noticed, inhaling the scent of iron and fire.
Zuzar smirked.
"Kal said if I could steal you away for a bit he's got something for you."
"He didn't give my cloak back."
"You can kick his ass for that."
"I might."
Several larger males were strutting up the hall, headed by the warrior, Narzug, whom she had saved at the river. Zuzar growled and called them over. He was quick about telling them about gathering a group for attacking the wizard. Who Ithildae knew to either be Gandalf or Radagast.
"Aza," Zuzar called, "You know where Kal is. I'm heading this up."
She gave him a curt nod and entered the forges, the heat was much more intense on the bare skin of her face. Males gave her stares as she passed, the firelight reflected off her skin and made it appear golden. Kalus' forge was tucked in the back and she could see him working at the anvil. She neared in silence and stood to watch him work. His coal black skin was shining with sweat, muscles bunched at the swing of his hammer on the long and deadly blade before him.
It was the next prosthetic for her father.
Kalus stood and turned around to face her.
"Thought I felt somethin' cold and bitchy behind me."
"Watch it, I could get you killed now."
He snorted.
"You could have killed me before."
She smiled and came to his side.
"Is it almost done?"
"Yeah, right big thing and I don't know how he's gonna be healed enough to fight with it on."
"I think he's too caught up with the war and finding Oakenshield to care much about pain."
Kalus exhaled and picked up the glowing orange blade and dipped each edge of it into the trough of water by his forge, then he placed it in a pile of sand and covered it. The hisses were muffled as it cooled for the final time.
"Now it'll be strong and sharp." He huffed.
Ithildae leaned on the anvil.
"Zuzar said you wanted to ask me something?"
"C'mere," he waved her closer. "Noticed earlier when you were fightin' him that you don't have a lot of armor."
"I don't nee-"
"Hush. You ain't been in an open battle before. The measly leather ain't gonna cut it for protection."
"I won't wear heavy armor. It slows me down."
Kalus moved closer to her, close enough that the breathed the same air. She locked on to his one eye and didn't look away.
"I can make ya light armor." He placed his calloused hands on her sides and moved them to her hips.
She almost pulled away, but they were careful, his eye was calculating and feeling the width and length of her body. They moved essentially all over her torso, but stopped when he came to her chest.
"I don't wanna die, but I need to measure you." He muttered.
A halfhearted flick of her eyes and a grunt gave him permission. He was still hesitant and very cautious as he measured around her bust. The smith then quickly moved to the width of her shoulders and then nodded to himself, his chapped lips muttering silently. Ithi watched the thoughts fleet behind his eye, he was an intelligent male and he was talented at his job.
"It'll be done tonight." He said, moving his hand up and having his thumb brush the ivory skin at the base of her neck.
She caught a whiff of longing in his expression. But he covered it and pulled away.
"You seem to have taken my safety rather seriously."
He looked up with a glare.
"Don't start that. I don't wanna be bored now that Azog's arm is done. Gotta give myself something to do."
A small quirked smile rose on her mouth. He was a terrible liar. His grouchy front did little to hide his motives.
"You had better give my cloak back."
"Nah, not yet. You'll get it when the armor is done."
"Are you—"
"Shoo, stop pestering me now. That's all I wanted from you. Don't you have other things to do?"
"Not really."
Kalus shook his head, but caught sight of someone moving swiftly towards them.
"Shit, it's your brother!" He hissed.
"Don't blind him again, Kalus."
"Shut up. He might kill me now that you're here."
"He won't." She said, stepped out between Kalus and the forge and a raging Bolg.
Bolg came up to her almost foaming at the mouth. He was angry, it was obvious.
"Yes?" Ithildae cocked her head.
"He will kill you!" Bolg jerked his head towards Kalus, who exhaled heavily.
"Didn't you put me under his watch?"
"Before I knew it was you!" Bolg coiled up his shoulders and snarled.
"If he gives me trouble, I can kill him. I don't need you to."
Bolg's ripped up lips were curved into a disapproving snarl.
"Don't trust him."
"I don't really trust anyone, even you."
He exhaled and a sound vibrated in his chest.
"We know where the Dwarves are. They have hidden in the town of Man."
Ithildae fought to keep her expression neutral at the mention of them. She had almost forgotten of her involvement with the rogue group of Dwarves. She wasn't under any contract to protect them, but she knew Bilbo would be with the Company. That was enough for her to be worried for him.
"We ride at dawn. You come with us, father will lead the army to the mountain."
"How do you know they are still in the town?" She asked.
"Our scouts saw them enter."
Ithildae nodded, she was skeptical that they still remained in the town of Man. She looked at Kalus for a moment.
"You will have the armor done by then?"
"Aye."
Bolg snorted aggressively and looked between them.
"Armor?"
"He is crafting me armor, Bolg. That way I won't as much of Golug." She snapped.
Bolg narrowed his eye.
"He comes with us."
Kalus looked rather shocked at the news.
"Thought I was –"
"She is in charge of you!" Bolg yelled, pointing at him with a thick hand.
Ithi quirked her eyebrow. Kalus shot her a scowl.
"She already was." He grumbled.
"Be ready. I will not wait for you." Bolg left abruptly and she was left watching him with a dimmed expression.
"Looks like you will take orders from me now."
"Don't be so smug about this." Kalus huffed. "I could always mess your armor up."
"I don't think you would. You are too proud to do a shoddy piece of work." Her hand graced his back as she left the forge.
Kalus shivered and the feeling of her cool hand was etched on his skin for a while after she had left him. He growled under his breath, cursing himself, she was too much to handle for him. He didn't need to be told by Bolg that she was in charge. She was a Queen amongst them since the moment her hood came off.
-xXx-
Azog stared intently at the claw protruding from his left arm. It was familiar, a piece of him as it had been for a very long time, and he had no reason to change it. But now, now war was on the horizon and he needed to be prepared. He glanced up at Fimbul entering the room of his tower, in his arms was a massive wrapped package. The Snaga set it before Azog and pulled back the thin leather, revealing the gleaming blade.
"He did a good job." Ithildae spoke as she walked through the doorway.
Her body was now garbed in a series of light steel plates and warg leather, giving her adequate coverage from damage. Off her shoulders hung her Elven cloak, attached to the shoulder pads by two clasps. Her eyes were smeared with a dark kohl and her hair was pulled back at the top, letting the thick lower layers fall around her in a coarse mane.
"He did well for your armor as well." Azog grumbled. "You leave with Bolg?"
"He asked me to."
"Good. I trust your judgement alongside his."
She swallowed and blinked a few times. More Orcs came into the room, she noted that they were building a fire in the corner of the room. Others had dirty linens for improper bandages.
"Why have you come?" Azog asked, stretching out his arm and gritting his jaw.
"I wanted to be here when you switch your arm. It might cause more damage than you expect."
"Are you a healer?"
"I know enough."
Azog smiled.
"Your mother was the one who helped me recover from the loss… It is good that you are here, Aza."
Ithildae smiled and took her place at his side.
"I assume you have taken care of the Wizard?"
He grunted.
"Master caught him. He's locked in the prisoner's tower."
She kept her face impassive as she mapped out where this tower was in her head. Dol Guldur was vast, but simple if one knew the important places. She stepped back as a short Orc came up to Azog, he was a squat and burly thing.
"Get it over with." Azog exhaled and extended his left arm.
Ithildae's eyes widened when this new Orc took his claw and yanked it out of its resting place. Azog roared, with good reason, because that was not at all helpful for keeping the damage minimal. She winced and wanted to protest this method but it was already too far along to reverse much of the damage. They moved quickly, shoving the new blade up into the bleeding and gaping hole of his arm's stump. There was black blood everywhere and he was heaving with snarls as his body reacted to the new wound and metal in his body.
It was only seconds later that a hot iron was brought over by the squat Orc's assistant and the bleeding flesh was seared until it stopped bleeding. A dark liquid was poured all over his arm, it hissed as it hit the burning flesh. Azog leaned back and exhaled deeply, scowling in pain.
"That… Could have been done in a better way." She muttered, coming closer to him.
"Oh? In an Elvish way?"
"Well… Yes, but—"
"This will heal soon. I don't need the help of your Elvish healing."
Ithildae knew that her kind healed quickly and were able to resist infections better than the other races… but this was a serious wound that would not heal completely in the time he needed it to be. It would still be very sore on the battlefield. It was being wrapped in rags to keep in the black liquid medicine slathered on it.
She touched his arm, her jaw clenched.
"Why are you fighting this war?" She asked.
Azog seemed to halt, his eyes spinning those words in his mind.
"Because we do the Master's bidding."
"Why not resist? You will lose so many lives to this…"
Azog gave her a sharp glare.
"Do not speak against the Eye."
She quieted, but it was a strained and angry silence. She supposed it wasn't wise to speak out against this shadow in the fortress. It was powerful enough to cause such damage to the minds of others and the forests around them. He was not something she could cut with a sword. Ithildae sighed.
"Bolg is leaving soon. May we meet on the field of battle." She bade in farewell.
"Aza… Protect yourself." His eyes meant it.
Ithildae pressed her lips together tightly and nodded, swaying in her step as she left him. He watched her cloaked back leave, a pain in his chest. He would not let her go again. She would live.
-xXx-
The bars of iron were cold and hard, digging into him uncomfortably. Gandalf kept his eyes closed as he let his body rest and attempt to recover from the encounter with Sauron. The Grey Wizard wracked his brain for a way of escape from this cage. Without his staff or much of his power, his chances were bleak as the sky above.
"I wondered if it was you."
Gandalf jolted to his senses. He hadn't heard that voice since he left the Company of Thorin Oakenshield at the edge of Mirkwood. Ithildae Orquwen stood in front of the cage in which he was held prisoner. She was in what looked to be a light Orcish armor, her trademark black cloak still around her shoulders. Her head was tilted to the side and she held something within her hand.
"Ithildae!" He breathed in greeting.
"Gandalf…" She neared him and leaned in intensely. "I don't have much time. But they made it safely to the Lake. They gained passage in with a human fisherman… From there I don't know."
The Wizard's face melted with relief.
"You have done well."
The Orcess gulped and passed him a small water skin through the bars.
"I am afraid I can't do much now. My brother leads a troop to chase them out of the town… I am going with him. But I cannot commit open treason. They suspect nothing as of now."
Gandalf's brow furrowed at the sight of her conflicted brow.
"Thank you. I know you go against your own people, and that is difficult – no matter how barbaric."
She looked pained.
"This is the last I can do. I hope you have a way to cure this darkness… It plagues more than just this forest."
"It would be most helpful if you could-" He halted at the rapid approach of heavy footsteps.
He tucked the water skin under his robe.
"You know nothing of them?!" Ithildae suddenly snarled, baring her fangs.
Bolg rounded the bend and gave his sister an intense stare. She was interrogating the wizard.
"Aza!" He called. "We mount the wargs soon."
She turned and held herself with an aggressive power.
"I was just finishing." She snarled in Black Speech.
Bolg sneered at Gandalf and followed his sister out of the open area. Gandalf exhaled and took the water skin she gave him, drinking deeply. He had put an immense amount of trust in the daughter of Azog. He found that he trusted her subtlety in handling both her kin and the Dwarves within Lake Town. But now his problem lay with escaping a fortress of Orcs and the strongest foe Middle-earth contained.
-xXx-
Hiisht was fidgeting under her, eager to run and devour anything she passed. Ithildae's strong thighs gripped the minimal saddle around the wargs body, holding to the upper part with a tight grip. She hadn't ridden a warg in… a very long time. Kalus could tell she wasn't used to it.
"Just hold on tight as you can. Wargs are pack animals, she'll go with the rest of us." He grunted at her.
Ithildae eyed him as he sat comfortably on a bulky and rather sluggish warg, wearing thick steel armor with no helmet on his head. Others paced and snarled around them until Bolg came striding out and swung up on his vicious mount.
"We stop for nothing!" He bellowed, kicking his warg and causing a chain reaction from the rest.
The wargs sprung forward, howling and yapping as they tore out of the lower levels of Dol Guldur and into the thick and dark forest. Ithildae kept herself low on the arching back of Hiisht, craning her head up to glimpse the dark sky. The sun would not rise for a while. And by the speed of the wargs, Ithildae knew Lake Town would be on the horizons before long. She cast one last look upon Dol Guldur's silhouette, her fingers tightening on the saddle of her racing warg. The Orcess hoped Oakenshield had moved in time… Because they were coming for them.
I'm so creative I named Ithi's gray warg Ash. Wow. So much creativity happening right now. But really "Hiisht" means 'ash' in Black Speech so that works.
Thank you for all the reviews and whatnot. It means a lot to me!
And honestly I'd love to hear what you are thinking for the rest of the story. I adore hearing theories.
Will be back with another chapter in a few days!