"You say you are unhappy without war," Halla murmured sleepily in the late hours of the night. "Why? Were you not afraid to die? So many died…"

"Afraid?" Maukurz asked. "No. So much fighting, I did not stop to think of losing or dying."

Lying on his back just out of reach, Maukurz put his hands on either side of his eyes, tunneling his vision to show her how he felt at war. He pointed two fingers together into the abstract distance of the dark canopy of trees overhead, then returned his hand to the side of his face. "There is my target. March to it, run to it, fight for it. Take it. No other thoughts, no cares, nothing more important. After victory… very sweet time. Many rewards, most of all for top fighters."

"So… you fought for rewards?"

"Yes, part way. And I follow orders." Maukurz became excited then, rolling onto his side, propping up on an elbow despite his pain. He grinned wistfully and told her, "But fighting is reward too, Halla. All goes quiet—soft—and slow. Like… Like snow falling, crushes sound, wraps it up quiet. I can see my enemy: his shoulder moves just a little before he swings his sword, tells me which way to attack, to block. I can smell: he is afraid, I come harder. He is too sure, too full of battle-fever, I pretend to stumble, let him swing, cut his belly out. Cut his leg out. Take his head. Then choose the next one to take down. Look out for Men who are the same, loving battle. Those are the best to fight." His smile faded and he shook his head. "Now no more fights. No more… nariist-izg amol ghashnat… When all know you have fought well, and all say your name in proud way?"

Halla blinked in drowsy astonishment. "You mean glory? You long for glory?"

"Akh, maybe: glory. No more glory for Maukurz. Only shame. Crawl, hide, sneak-thief. Shit life, you see? Now I think of death. No fear for death now. Nothing else to do! No use for Maukurz. Makes pain here," Maukurz said, tapping his temple, drawing his hand to his heart, "and here."

Halla sighed, and Maukurz frowned. "You don't understand me?"

"I understand you, Maukurz. You are like… like one of the warriors in the old songs we sing, pining for battle and glory, traveling around the world looking for a war. I am sorry for you. Many Men are the same, loving battle as you said. But they have homes to return to…" Halla furrowed her smooth brow thoughtfully. "What about hunting? Do you hunt? There is much big game in the mountains. Wolves—though I love them—and bear and lynx… Wargs too, the old ones say. It is a good fight, to take down strong game. Hunting keeps a Man's mind at peace."

"Akh, Halla. Yes, I hunt. But I have no weapons. My sword broke at Helm's Deep and Isengard's weapons were washed away by the time I got back. I only kill what I run down."

"Run down," Halla repeated unsteadily, flashes of torched roofs and running, screaming women in her mind. She banished those thoughts, and questioned Maukurz. "What do you mean run down?"

"Run, jump, catch…" Maukurz said, grinning. "I am faster than wolves, faster than deer. Faster than all but the best horse."

"That is quite fast," Halla said, smiling.

"Akh," Maukurz murmured, looking to her with bragging eyes. "Uruk-hai fast, Maukurz the fastest. But still…" he sighed. "I miss weapons. My sword, my bow."

Halla was falling asleep now, laying on Maukurz's blanket, bundled tight in her cloak. The moon was low in the west, and a few sips of Maukurz's well-rationed wine were working hard on her near-empty belly. Maukurz watched as her lovely clear blue eyes fluttered shut, and then opened again as she fought her sleep. "Can I trust you?" she asked softly. "Can I sleep… as I let you sleep, safe?"

"Trust me," Maukurz said, repeating her and beseeching her at the same time. He wasn't sure why, he couldn't find his bearings in this new world, but he was certain that if Halla trusted him, she would come back to him. And maybe one day she would run from her shitty horse boy and give herself to him instead, and he would have his own sharlob, the most beautiful he'd ever seen.

Half asleep now, Halla murmured, "I will bring you… a good strong bow… You can be a hunter, and be happy again…" Her words trailed off in a sigh, and Maukurz inhaled deeply, smelling her warm breath, scented with raspberries and wine.

When he was sure she was asleep he exhaled hard, closing his eyes and gripping his scalp with his sharp claws. Is she mad, sleeping beside me? Doesn't she know what I am? Now's my time…

Maukurz reached out for her, and she was just out of his grasp. A deep shudder passed through him, leaving his body quivering with desire and his cock so stiff it might burst. The Master could not have devised a more perfect reward for Maukurz, combining the shining, fragile beauty he yearned for with a deep intoxicating scent that dug into his very core and held fast… and then leaving her sleeping beside him, without anyone in the world around to pull him off her once he got in!

So why can't I do it?

Only months ago, Maukurz would have relished the opportunity to ravish Halla where she lay. Hours would pass before he'd take his fill, when he would roll off of her, sweating and panting, and slick with blood and seed and sweat. Some of the younger ones he'd caught hadn't moved again, after he had finished with them. He had laughed at the foolish Uruks who had only wanted to kill. Rewards from Master had showered Maukurz, such a terror was he in the Westfold.

Yet this balmy night, in a dark forest of shadow and wolfsong, with his perfect reward asleep beside him, Maukurz could do nothing more than look! He tried to understand what was missing, but all he knew was that since his home had been destroyed, nothing had made sense. Since the Master's voice had abandoned him, Maukurz had known nothing but confusion and shame. The only peace he'd found was in Halla's presence, and he was desperate to keep her close.

Maukurz was tortured for hours. If he took her, he would know perfect satisfaction this very night. But he could not impose her face on the twisting, tortured bodies of his victims. He made a good effort to, holding his cock hard in his fist, but the thought of Halla sweating fear and screaming in pain repelled him so thoroughly he almost lost his erection. He gasped and grit his jaw, and closed his eyes again, recalling the feeling of her small fingers smoothing along his flesh, feeling for injuries. He saw her tending to him, healing him, touching him gently. Saw her smiling, her eyes shining as she spoke to him. You can be happy again, she murmured, making him wonder if he'd ever been happy at all.

I don't want to hear her screaming, he thought. Well maybe… maybe a little scream, maybe a few sharp little cries… And then she wraps her long, pale legs around my hips and calls me by my name… She moans when I come inside her, she begs me to take her…

Maukurz knew he could make a white-skin beg. He'd done it enough times in the whelping pits. When he buried his face between their legs, when he had teased his tongue and his sharp teeth over the soft parts there, and over their breasts, plucking at their ripe, treacherously swollen nipples… They had begged him then, begged him to stop and begged him to go farther, hating themselves for it, hating him for doing it, arousal and shame and fear all twisted together in a delicious brew. Maukurz had discovered such thrilling games fairly early on, with nothing but time on his hands and a list of females to impregnate. He had played with them, like a satiated cat would play with a mouse before killing it. The hot, lusty memories of the pits grabbed him mercilessly, and Maukurz lost himself.

It was a long while before Maukurz caught his breath. A long while until he was sure, absolutely sure he wouldn't grab for Halla as she slept. A long while until he could trust himself, looking at her delicate face, her full, bruised, berry stained mouth. Tasting her in every breath he took. Her hair was loose now, paler than gold and more shining than steel, rippling over her body like bright raiment. It would be easy if all I wanted was a fuck, he thought. But I want to fall asleep in her arms every last night. I want to know that I am filling her belly with food and keeping her safe each day. I want to watch her body change, once my whelp is inside her, instead of getting sent on to the next one.

Maukurz could go on for hours, thinking of the strange new ways he wanted Halla. But his Master, who had abandoned him in defeat like a torn tunic or a broken sword, had never shown him a way to relieve those needs. Drunk from Halla's presence, Maukurz shuddered again and closed his eyes, forcing himself to sleep, hoping against hope that he didn't dream of anything that would make him hurt her this night.

Halla woke to birdsong and soft breeze. She opened her eyes slowly and saw Maukurz sprawled on his back, his strong arm over his brow as if he'd fallen asleep fighting off some invisible enemy. Halla gasped softly, and assured herself that she was still tightly wrapped in cloak and gown. She was surprised to see a good part of the blanket wrapped over her as well, as if she'd grown cold in the night and the Uruk had covered her… and done no more.

It was not long after dawn, but Halla knew she had to go soon. She sat up, stretching, and contemplated waking Maukurz. She looked at him again, and lost her breath at the sight of his beautiful body. She let her eyes wander from his thick, strong neck down over his broad shoulders, across his hard chest, following the narrowing line of his flat abdomen as it ran into his powerful hips. His thighs were thick and long, and Halla blushed to see the half-hard swelling of his cock beneath his breechclout. Alone and unwatched, she did not look away. She wanted more than anything to take that big fleshy member in her hand. Would the skin there be soft? How heavy would it be? Would he feel it if I ran my finger along it? Halla wondered how Maukurz differed from a Man, and then laughed softly at herself, because she knew nothing of Men either.

Growing ashamed of her wantonness, Halla tore her gaze away, looking instead at the sharp planes of his smooth dark face. Even in his sleep, his breath rumbled. Halla leaned close to him, listening to that deep purr, feeling the heat of his body. He breathed her in and groaned softly, turning his head towards her. Halla backed away. "Maukurz…" she murmured. "Maukurz!"

The feral golden eyes opened at once, blinking, a deep rumble rolling through his chest as he took her in. His lips spread into a smile and he purred her name. "Halla…"

"I must go, Maukurz. It's later than I wanted to be gone. My servants will be awake."

He frowned and pushed himself up. "No, Halla, don't go… Didn't you sleep safe?"

He was so positively devastated that Halla took pity on him, and for a brief moment felt no fear at all. She reached out with quivering fingers and cupped his sharp cheek in her hand. Maukurz moaned softly, closing his eyes. He turned his head so that his lips—surprisingly soft—were against her thumb. Halla thought her heart might explode. His eyes flickered open, and he looked at her with a heavy-lidded, desire filled gaze. He parted his lips, flicked his tongue against her thumb, and then grazed it with his teeth, pinching her flesh.

Halla drew her hand back as if he'd burned it. She was dizzy all over again, unable to catch her breath. "I—I must go. I will come back as soon as I can. Do you have food for today?"

Maukurz's chest rose and fell hard. "Food? Yes. A little."

"Then I will see you when I can," she told him, achingly unhappy to leave him. She stood up on shaky legs just before him, looking down as his eyes ran up her body and met her face. "Goodbye, Maukurz," she breathed.

Halla made to turn, but Maukurz caught her cloak and gown in his fist. She looked down on him with wild, frightened eyes. His gaze hooded with dangerous desire, Maukurz tugged the fabric away from her body. He slipped his other hand beneath her gown, gripping her thigh just above the knee. As Halla stood stone still—unable even to scream—Maukurz ran his hand up the inside of her thigh, holding her eyes captive in his feral golden gaze. She nearly fainted when his hot hand slipped between her legs, gripping her sex hard, pushing it open like the soft, tight petals of a flower. Halla shuddered a breath and almost collapsed right there, surrendering to the throbbing pleasure of his touch, a pleasure she had never imagined.

"Don't give to pushdug," Maukurz growled, his breath rumbling deep in his chest, his middle finger pulsing firmly as it rubbed against her most sensitive place.

Thoughtless, melting, Halla shook her head. Maukurz grinned savagely, and yanked his hand away. Shockingly, he ran his fingers over his tongue, purring dangerously. Halla turned before she fainted, walking away on shaking legs, knowing Maukurz's hot eyes were on her as she disappeared into the forest.

Once on her property again Halla tore through the meadow, sending grasshoppers and butterflies both scurrying to safety. She saw Ailen in the field with one of the new foals, and Blythe leaving the kitchen with a tray of fresh loaves. She slipped around the backside of the stone and wood barn, leaning against the wall to catch her breath. She tipped her head to the sky and clutched her throat, sure that she was burning up and everyone would see. She could not begin to imagine what she would say to Finnan, though she was sure she had some plan.

Enough! Halla thought anxiously. She took command of her shaking breath and smoothed her rumpled clothes, picked a stray pine needle from her unbound hair. She realized with dismay that she'd left her ribbon in the woods. Halla braided her hair loosely and quickly, and then she stepped back into the growing sunlight.

She'd not made it ten paces when Finnan dashed out of the house. Halla licked her lips as her husband saw her and went wide-eyed.

He was in worn clothes as well, good brown britches and a green jacket embroidered with thread of gold. Yet the fabric was crushed, wrinkled, as if he'd fallen asleep in the hall waiting for her. Halla refused to hang her head as she approached him, meeting him with a dry mouth and a daring gleam in her eyes.

"Where did you go?" Finnan asked in a low, urgent voice.

"I… I was in the barn," she told him tremulously. Would he say more? Halla could hardly think, and she prayed he would not question her further. At that moment, Blythe was coming round from the servant's entrance. She bobbed them both a polite curtsey, and continued on to the kitchen.

Finnan took ahold of her upper arm roughly as he turned about, bringing her towards the house.

"Take your hand off me," Halla hissed, stomping in place, "or I will scream, so help me."

Finnan released her immediately. "I must talk to you!" he hissed, panicked.

"Talk?" Halla demanded. "Or slap my face again?"

"Halla, I am sorry. Please, let me explain things to you. Come to the hall, sit by the fire. You must be frozen stiff."

Disarmed by the sudden courtesy, Halla nodded agreement. She followed Finnan to the hall, wondering how flushed her cheeks were, or how he could ever imagine she was cold. Then she had a sudden fear that he would beat her once he had her in the house, and she wished herself back in the woods, lying beside Maukurz and listening to the forest come awake.

Halla stepped into the darkness, and the heavy oak door thumped shut behind them. She stood awkwardly, a stranger in her own hall. Finnan went to the dying fire and stoked it, throwing on two fresh logs. He dragged a seat before the fire, then returned to Halla and extended his smooth white hand. When she refused to take it he bowed his head gracefully, and indicated the seat. Halla went where she was bid, sitting stiffly on the wooden stool, hands folded in her lap. She felt terribly like a little girl about to be scolded, and it was deeply uncomfortable.

He brought another stool over, placing it quietly across from her. Sitting decorously, leaning on his thighs. "Why did you flee last night? I came for you, as I told you I would."

Halla swallowed, and there was nothing there but dryness. She licked her lips. She stared to the fire and told him, "I did not wish for you to come!"

Finnan absorbed the blow in silence. Then he told her coolly, "You are my wife. I am within my rights to demand it."

"And was Edwyn here?" she asked sharply, glaring at Finnan. "Was he to wait in the hall, as you did your duty?"

Finnan blanched. "Don't… don't bring him into this. I am speaking about our marriage."

"Don't bring him into it?" Halla nearly screamed. At the pinched, furious look on Finnan's face she lowered her voice to a hissing whisper. "You've already done that for me! He will always be in it! If I live another hundred years, I will never forget that you married me preferring him!"

"Halla, I don't want war in my very home!" Finnan cried desperately. "I have wronged you, I admit it, but I do wish to have peace here! What can I do to restore myself in your good graces?"

Halla shook her head tightly, unable to think of a single thing save releasing her, which he could not do without shame.

Finnan closed his eyes, appalled. He dropped his head in his hand, sighing deeply. "Halla…"

Halla was amazed to find herself pitying him, but it didn't change anything. "You have condemned me," she said quietly. "If we are the best of friends from this day forward, you have still condemned me to a life without love."

Finnan laughed breathily, wryly. "What can a little girl like you know of love?"

Feeling Maukurz's hand on her again, Halla gasped, "Perhaps I know more than you think!"

He arched his eyebrows as if readying a threat, and then he deflated, and shook his head. "Forgive me; that was unkind. Hear me, Halla… I had a surprise for you, and I meant to tell you that… that morning after. When I was last with the King, for Theoden King's funeral, I was invited to present you after the wedding. Tomorrow a seamstress should arrive, with gowns I ordered for you with your aunt's help, long before the wedding. In two days time we shall ride to Edoras, and join King Eomer's court. I would have you be the most beautiful woman in the city. And here…" Finnan stood, drawing something flashing and gold from the pocket of his coat. "I was going to give this to you last night, but you chose the company of horses and barn cats instead."

"Wait... what did you say?" Halla had hardly heard him. Her mind-and her body-were back in the woods with Maukurz. She crossed her legs tightly, which had the opposite effect of what she had intended. A ripple of pleasure flushed hot through her body.

Finnan looked at her curiously. "I said I have ordered gowns for you to wear when we venture to Edoras. We leave the day after tomorrow."

Leaving for Edoras? How can I go? I can't leave him! Halla sat in frozen horror as Finnan crossed the room. He stopped before her, holding up a thick gold necklace with chunks of amber—glowing like Maukurz's eyes—set in oval gold fastings. She eyed the necklace in dismay.

Finnan laughed nervously, surprised. "Does it not please you? Do you not like fine things?"

"I—I do… I thank you, my lord…"

Halla squeezed the tears from her eyes as Finnan circled behind her. She cringed as he lifted her long braid out of the way, and wrapped the necklace around her throat. A stray, betraying tear fell over her cheek as he fastened the clasp. Halla touched her fingers to her throat, feeling the cold dead weight of the jewels. Her trembling fingers knocked the tear away just in time, as Finnan came before her with a wide smile on his face.

"There now!" Finnan exclaimed, relieved and eager to be away. "You look stunning, as I knew you would. Make sure to tell Blythe to pack anything from home that you might wish to bring, we shall load it all on a wagon. There. Are you not excited for our trip?"

"Very, my lord," Halla whispered, her heart breaking.

nariist-izg amol ghashnat…-I don't know how to say...