My Elven warlord can't be this cute!

Tiffania Westwood needed a familiar, she just didn't know it yet. Who is a better familiar for an innocent elf maiden than a King of Elves? The Witch King, of course! To Malekith at least the trees didn't have eyes and no Chaos Daemons were in sight.

Warnings: see chapter 1, I'm wrecking Warhammer lore as I yet have to read the Sundering series.

Disclaimer: Don't own shit except the belief that Malekith is entitled to tendies and Mommy's milkies

Chapter 3: Maiden and the Witch King I

Saying that today had been full of surprises was an understatement. First of all her house was flying!

Much like her former kingdom, the small patch of land she had called her own was now soaring through the skies under Malekith's magic. The elf was still outside, but it was simply amazing how he could achieve this. In her books she had heard of flying ships of Galia and Albion, but those required a lot of the mages to make the sea vessel sky-worthy. Once again Malekith surprised her with his ingenuity and foresight as the older elf made it seem effortless. Giddy with excitement Tiffania jumped in her small bed. Landing with a small bounce in the dune filled mattress she kicked her feet and hugged her pillow.

He truly was a prince like no other! She thanked her parents, her mother particularly, that this strange elf had crashed into her life. With powerful magic, good looks and kindness that made her heart beat even faster whenever Malekith was near, the half-elf had hard time just looking at him and how he worked. A small part of her was little bit envious of how well he could cast magic, unlike her, who could only cast a single spell.

Despite her kind nature and innocence, Tiffania wasn't supid, sure a little oblivious, but not stupid. Malekith was obviously taking her to Mathilda to Tristain's academy of magic, where they would meet her big sister and decide the best course of action after that. Maybe she could even learn at the academy if Mathilda would convince the headmaster! However, soon the girl realized that was it really that necessary if the blonde had Malekith with her? He was an accomplished sorcerer and could use more than one element after all!

Yet despite all of today's excitement and wonder, it had been tiring on the girl. As if her bones were turned to liquid she laid on the bed with her limbs sprawled in all directions, while a small heaving of her chest and closed eyes indicated that she was asleep. After all, who could have so much excitement in one day?

As the young girl dreamt, she was afraid that once again she would see the evil man in the black armour on his great dragon roaring with malicious laughter as cities were rend by his sorcerous might or armies. Black clouds would swarm once golden cities and his ruthless and savage armies would march, ordered by calculated cruelty designed to crush any and all opposition. Skies full of beasts like harpies, manticores and dragons that put the knights of Albion to shame.

However, this time she dreamt of Malekith. In her dream the half elf girl was in the heat of battle, where the dark haired elf was clad in silvery armour that reflected the moon as he and his warriors stared down men and aberrant horrific monsters whose existence itself was an affront to existence. More maws and eyes that should have been possible to fit on a single face, added with limbs and shapes out of demented nightmares, it took the realization that she was in within a dream for Tiffania not to scream.

Yet facing these monsters and savage men, Malekith wasn't alone. With him stood legion of silver armoured soldiers and beside him, a small and stocky creature with white hair and a magnificent beard. The battle was a slaughter and it was there Tiffania saw the full extent of Malekith's magic. He and his mages weaved savage winds and arcane bolts falling from the sky. The creatures were decimated with a single volley, yet the creatures didn't stop coming. Wave after wave they tried to overwhelm the silver warriors, yet always were repelled.

In the midst of the battle she saw Malekith unsheathe his ensorcered sword and charge with his most trusted riders into battle on their shining dragons. The elfin prince cut through the ranks of the damned with grace unparalleled by a mortal man, ducking and weaving through the beasts, leaving severed limbs and pooling ichor on his rampage.

Suddenly he was unseated by a giant crimson claw and Tiffania wanted to scream for someone to help him. Yet in the din of battle no one could help their prince as they tried to stem the demon tide. With blood gushing from his face, Malekith stood up to face the crimson demon, who let out a bellowing laughter and sneered at the elf.

"Son of Aenarion" the titan rasped as he raised his blade to the elf "YOUR SKULL BELONGS TO KHORNE!" it roared and Malekith merely raised the sword in greeting, feelings of revulsion bare on his face.

"Come spawn of Chaos, dance with me" he snarled, and his sword lit ablaze, and his emerald orbs shone with sorcerous might.

Then he taunted the demon.

With an earth-shattering roar and span of it's wings the demon barreled towards the elf, who dodged it handily and nicked it in the skin with its blade. The demon whipped around and summoned a flail in its hand that seemed to move with a mind of its own. With wide eyes she watched as Malekith continued to dodge his foe, landing blows where he could and retreating as fast as he could. As they fought the demon got more and more enraged, spewing profanities in long forgotten tongues which Malekith returned with barbs of his own, cheerfully taunting the demon and delighting in it's cries of rage.

Yet it took one slip and as flail hit his chestplate, Malekith was sent sprawling across the battlefield, knocking down a rider that had come to their lord's rescue. The elf rose to his feet once again with difficulty and dropped on all four to dodge the swing of the sword that killed the elf beside him.

"Son of Aenarion, YOU ARE WEAK!" snarled the demon as it tried to stamp out the elf with it's black iron hooves. In the nick of time Malekith managed to roll back and get to his feet, but not quickly enough as the hand that once held the flail grasped him.

Grimacing in pain as the beast tried to squash him. Yet with him coughing blood, Malekith had a crazed grin on his face. The demon had lifted him to its face, ready to take it's skull, but then a thunderclap echoed across the marsh where they fought.

A dazzling ray of light came from the skies and pierced straight through the chest of the demon, in it's path severing the hand that had almost squeezed the life out of Malekith. Tiffania was relieved. She had been watching the battle with bated breaths and almost the entire time she was overrun with cold sweat as she watched the dream play out. Was it a dream, however? Her dreams had never been this detailed and in her entire life she had never seen such dragons, griffons or even demons.

Turning back to the dream, she looked at Malekith, who had freed himself of the clawed hand and was proceeding to approach the demon within it's death throes. Without a moments hesitation a spell was on Malekith's lips and another bolt fell from the sky, shattering the demon into dust. In the very next second the demons seemed to realize the death of their liege and were beginning to rout, yet in the distance horns sounded and a fresh force of elves descended on the frightened routed host of demons.

As the battle seemingly had come to an end, the elf wiped the blood on his face and smiled in her direction as if he could see her.

"Malekith!" she cheered and ran up to him. Yet just before she could reach him, his figure had transformed into that of the armoured monster that had terrorized her previous dreams. Now surrounding her was a dark and dreary throne room with braziers burning with purple flames. With his crimson cloak billowing in the oppressive room he stared with her, a goblet of wine in his hand.

"Who addresses the Witch King?" he asked and the first thing she noticed were his shining emerald eyes. Recoiling as if stuck, she tried to back away from the elf, desperatedly trying not to believe that it really was Malekith, the kind elf who had rescued her and had shown her the most wondrous things. He, who promised her to right the wrongs committed against her. She had fallen in love with him!

"Now little sorceress" the time stood still in the room and a husky feminine voice whispered in her ear "You have seen just who he is. Does it disgust you? Does it horrify you?" the voice continued to whisper and blew more hot air on her neck, unsettling the girl.

"Who are you?!" she mumbled and the answer to it was a throaty laughter. Now she felt hands on herself, touching and prodding where no one had touched her. Crimson blush spread on her face and immediately she batted the wandering hands away from herself.

"Back off witch!" she said and whipped around expecting to see the invisible offender, yet all she saw was air.

"Here girl and my name is Morathi" the voice called from the Witch King's side and with pink smoke a figure materialized. It was the beautiful woman from her dream the other day. Her black tresses held in place with her crowned horn, did little to vanish her appearance as the seductive sorceress she had first seen in her dreams.

"You didn't answer me little sorceress" the older woman said and pressed her breasts against the cold steel armour, not seeming to be bothered by the cold steel. Tiffania felt uncomfortable to see the woman acting such wantonly near Malekith, frozen in time they may be.

"Get your hands off him!" the half-elf huffed "Just because that he is frozen in time doesn't mean you have any right to do that!"

"Oh?" the woman raised an eyebrow and put her hands around his neck, pressing even more of her bare flesh against his.

"Why not? We have done so much more, child. Do you protest so much, because you have taken a fancy for him yourself?" Tiffania was not a violent or particularly angry, but the woman knew how to push her buttons and clenching her fists.

"Yes!" the words spilled from her and like water they couldn't be taken back. Realizing what she had just said, Tiffania gasped and covered her now crimson face with her hands. Sonorous laughter was all that she got from her rival in love.

"Precious child" she untangled herself from the armoured form of the elf and approached Tiffania, standing a head taller than herself.

"Do you even know just whom you have given your heart to?" she grabbed her cheeks, much quicker than Tiffania could manage to see. Shaking her head with a serene smile, she pressed her forehead against the other's.

"He is ruin made flesh, made beautiful. Malekith will ruin you if you let him" she whispered, brushing her cheeks with her long soft fingers as Tiffania stood there in shock at her actions, eyes wide and unblinking trying to process the warnings.

"But just how glorious this ruin will be. After all due to his actions the elves on our world were sundered"

Malekith wasn't from this world? All pieces of the puzzle seemed to fall into place for her now, yet Tiffania refused to believe that Malekith was evil. He couldn't be, especially after he had treated with so much kindness.

"You're lying! You just want him to be alone in this strange world so that he would turn back to you!" With ample strength she had left, the half-elf lifted the sorceress's hands off her. Instead of shock a knowing smile appeared on the black-haired woman's face.

"Am I? Either way I will wait to give you my sympathy after he rejects you. By our standards you are still barely a child." She sauntered over to Malekith's frozen form and winked at her.

"Tiffania Westwood, you ought to know that a mother knows her son best."

With this startling realization Tiffania was woken from her dream. Pit growing in her stomach at what she had just uncovered. Sitting on her bed, she let her tears fall at how the façade of this seemingly perfect man was crumbling before her very eyes. Why was the world so cruel? There was an odd chance that Morathi had been lying, but after the visions of Malekith in his armour, his dark urges and warfare that he had commanded, it was more than likely that the woman was speaking the truth.

Yet Tiffania refused to believe that Malekith would ruin her, that he was evil. If she were to get any answers, then she would do it by talking to him. After all she had no other options left as he was much more powerful sorcerer than her.

Slowly she dressed herself again and with heavy steps left her room.

The half-elf found him where she had left him. He sat outside on her porch, looking at the clear sea of stars illuminated by the night sky. A pensive look was on his face, yet his emerald eyes that now merely glinted instead of it's malignant glow in her dreams that now haunted her every time she looked at him.

"Couldn't sleep Tiffa?" he asked her, but instead of warmth she had once felt when he spoke her nickname like that, she now felt coldness seeping through her bones.

"Y-Yes" she tried not to stutter and took her seat next to him. Malekith raised an eyebrow, before sighing.

"Is there something troubling you?" he turned to her "Do not try to run from it as fleeing from something will not resolve it, merely delay it."

What could she ask him?

'Hey are you a tyrant warlord with no goodness left in you who sleeps with his possessive mother?' The thought of asking this was ridiculous and the response of anger and cruelty would be warranted.

"Why are you called the Witch King, Malekith?" she asked in what was supposed to be childlike innocence yet came out as an accussion. Yet she was right as in the moment Malekith visibly stiffened and tapped his fingers against his alabaster skin. She could see his jaw clench as this particular realization was not something, he had wanted to reveal to her. Yet Tiffania could understand him, even she had pretended to be human to befriend human children, when she revealed her ears, she had to run, lest they lynch her.

"How do you know that title?" Malekith returned a question as he turned from her. The blonde girl put her hand on her shoulder and the other elf recoiled as her very touch was poisonous.

"Why?" was her single question to the Son of Aenarion and he could not answer that.

A.N: Sorry for the shorter chapter. Just got my drivers license and with personal nature problems I can't update as often and my passion for this is slightly waning. However, have no fear as I am intent on at least getting Malekith back home. Morathi is the best helicopter parent and best girl to the boot (incestuous tendencies aside).

Have a nice day, leave a review and I'll try to see you soon!

-Spook