Mirajane IV

Mira tugged uncomfortably at the clothes she had been given. The outfit was bizarrely comparable to a bathing suit, with a red piece covering her chest, and a similarly covered piece around her waist. She had armored leggings and armored gauntlets. Atop her head was a golden circlet with a thin blade coming out of the front. Since entering into Malekith's service, she had to wear this outfit almost all the time, especially when standing next to his throne, which she did quite a bit of, as she was currently.

"The issue is moot," Malekith said to the lesser lord, leaning on his hand, "My decision is final."

"Your Majesty, with all due respect," the lord said, "with no slaves, our industry will suffer. We need the labor."

"Since when are we so weak that we need others to prosper?" Malekith answered, rubbing his armored fingers together. The lord tightened his face in frustration, clearly still not satisfied with that explanation.

"Perhaps you would like to bring the issue to my aide here?" the Witch King said, gesturing to Mirajane. That made several of the other lords in the hall back away slightly, though the one addressing the king didn't.

"Your Majesty, this girl is powerful yes, but she is a human, how can you trust her?" Malekith merely snapped his fingers. Mirajane cracked her neck, as a dark aura flared up around. With a cry, she then assumed her Satan Soul form. The force of the magic sent the lord tumbling back. That was all he needed, as when he got back up, he fell to one knee.

"Forgive me, my king," he said, "Your will be done." With a not so subtle snicker, the Witch King rose to his feet.

"Well done, my dear," Malekith said, putting a hand on Mirajane's shoulder as he passed her. The woman just scowled at him. That had been her role ever since she agreed to serve Malekith in exchange for the slaves' freedom, either slaying Malekith's dissenters, or more often, intimidating them.

"If you have such grievances, you may take them up with my aide," Malekith said, walking down to the lord's level, "Does anyone have any?" Nobody said anything.

"Then that's all for today," Malekith said, waving his hand, "Take your leave." The lords did as commanded, as they all left.

"Come," Malekith said, gesturing to Mira. The Take Over mage did as instructed, but didn't bother to hide her glare, as she followed back to Malekith's personal study.

In her time in Naggarond, Mira had learned a lot about the Dark Elves, or the Druichi as they called themselves. Apparently they were offshoots of elves from the land of Ulthuan, across the ocean. Malekith had been denied the throne after his father, the great king Aenarion, passed away. To that end, he crossed the ocean, and established a rival kingdom in Naggaroth. Since then, they had been struggling for ages to retake their homeland. Mira was't fooled by any of that; she knew that they were just complaining about not being able to get what they want.

"You know I'm not some cat you can just order to hiss at your peers when you feel threatened," she said after they got to the office and the door closed.

"Try to think of yourself more as a rearing cobra," Malekith answered, as he sat at his desk, and started writing something on a parchment.

"Gee, that's so much better," Mira groaned, leaning on the desk, "We need to talk, so pay attention to me."

"What is there to talk about?"

"You're not fulfilling your end of the bargain!" Mirajane snapped, now standing over him.

"Could you please move, my dear," Malekith asked, waving slightly, "You're in my light, and this documents are potentially important." He hadn't even bothered to look up at her. That set Mira off.

"LOOK AT ME!" she snapped, swiping all the papers off his desk. That made the Witch King look at her.

"I'm looking at you," he sneered, "Do you have something to say?"

"Do you think I'm stupid?" she asked.

"You are a human."

"I know the slaves you've 'freed' are just being kicked out of the city into the cold with no way of surviving. Why should I serve you if you aren't willing to do anything for them?"

"The deal was I free them, nothing more," Malekith said, "Those were my words, which you agreed to."

"So that's it?" Mira scowled, "The son and heir of Aenarion, the great king of all elven kind, exploits loopholes?" That apparently struck a nerve with Malekith as he suddenly looked straight at her.

"Do not talk about my father, girl," he hissed, "Do not pretend to understand things you have no grasp on."

"You think you're the only one to get denied something they wanted?"

"The throne was my birthright!" the Witch King snapped, standing up, "And do not presume to understand our affairs you foreign bitch!" In response to that, Mira struck out at him in the face, catching him off guard. She had even struck with a enough force, that she noticed that his helmet had been knocked off, allowing her to see Malekith's face for the first time.

The Witch King's face was covered with burns and scars. His left cheek was almost completely gone, showing his teeth, and part of his nose, and both his ears were gone. His hair had been completely seared off, and he had a thin line that went across his face. In all though, he had an underlying handsomeness, that seemed buried underneath these twisted features. That sight made Mira take a slight step back.

"So that's what happened when the fire rejected you?"

"Where did you hear that?" Malekith demanded, narrowing his eyes.

"What does it matter?" Mira answered, "Does it change the fact that it happened?"

"The flames were wrong," Malekith said, "I have the best claim to the throne. Better than any other of those so-called kings."

"Does it hurt?"

"The armor dulls the pain," Malekith said after a moments hesitation. Seeing him talk was strange, especially when looking at him from the left.

"But it doesn't fully git rid of it either," he continued.

"So you just sit here pouting and wallowing feeling sorry for yourself?" Mira said.

"We will retake Ulthuan, and I will sit upon the throne I was always meant to hold," Malekith answered.

"And then what?" At first Malekith said nothing, as he walked over, and picked up his helmet, putting it back on.

"I said then what?" Mira said, "Its a question you have to understand. You think everything in existence will just fall into place after you've taken over? That all this bitterness and spite will just evaporate?" Malekith still didn't say anything, as the take-over mage's face finally softened slightly.

"Is it worth it? Is any of this worth it?" Mira asked softly. Malekith was silent for a time, as he walked over to the window and looked out over the city.

"I do not know anymore."

Note: Mira is starting to establish a presence here in Naggaroth, though things are are still not yet going particularly well for her just yet.

I based Mirajane's outfit on those of the Witch Elves, only a bit more regal, suiting the Witch King's personal aide.

I couldn't find any images of Malekith's face pre-Sundering, so I decided to essentially create my own based on the known features of burn victims. I'm also going to be expanding on Malekith's character, especially in relation to Mirajane, as it can probably be seen in this prior chapter, as I will with the whole Dark Elf race. For the record, if I had to assign the Dark Elves an alignment, I'd either give them Chaotic Neutral at the absolute best, and Neutral Evil at the worst. The destruction and devastation they commit is towards what is (at least in their minds) a greater cause; they aren't like the Greenskins who seek devastation to achieve personal bloodlust, or the Beastmen who seek devastation for just devastation.

Please review. Next chapter goes back to Zhufbar.