Morsha winced as she felt a sharp pain in her belly. The efforts of the last days had been too much. Collapsing against a rock she felt tears fall down her face. Her home was only two days from here. But she knew that she would not make it on her own, for her strength had left her for good. Leaning against the hard rock the dark she-elf swore an oath. If she would survive this journey than she would take revenge on the dwarves. If this baby would be a daughter she would raise her with all the hatred she felt for the dwarves. The daughter of Thorin Oakenshield, king under the mountain would be the fate of his kin.
Thorin awoke in his tent on the battlefield on the plain between Dale and Erebor. His whole body hurt. But even worse was the pain in his heart. He was still alive. He had charged at the army of goblins with the goal to die honorably in battle. Thorin Oakenshield felt unworthy to be king under the mountain. He had failed them all. Bilbo, Morsha and his kin. He had given into the power of the goldsickness, he had been weak.
Morsha...Thorins heart stung painfully as he remembered what he had said to her. What he had done to her. She would never forgive him, she could not. He could not forgive himself. Thorin had never loved a woman as much as he had loved the elf. He would never accept another queen at his side. Looking at the ceiling of the tent Thorin remembered their first night together in Rivendell.
Thorin and Morsha had spent the last days together, talking and walking around the realms of Rivendell. The dwarf king had not expected to like the she-elf that much. Morsha was a strong and confident woman and she was a warrior. She wore a leather armor over her black tunic and overknee leatherboots. She always carried her bows with her and the slim axes she could swirl around in a deadly dance. Thorin had never seen a non-dwarven woman with axes before. But Morsha handeled them with strength and grace. The dark elf was nothing Thorin would have expected from a warrior elf. She was warm and open, no judgement ever left her lips about the elves of Rivendell, although Thorin knew that the elves of the West and the Duredhel had a difficult history. Morsha was bright and intelligent. They could talk for hours and laugh at each others stories. What Thorin had expected even less was that he felt attracted by the beautiful dark elf. Morsha had long dark hair, bound into a single braided ponytail which reached her knees. When she fought her hair was nearly as deadly as her axes. She had small blades braided into the tips of her hair, so that she could tear small but bloody wounds into her enemies flesh when she hit them. Her black eyes gleamed with passion when she fought and her full lips pressed to a thin line when she concentrated on her opponent. Thorin had trained with her a few times a day, but he had soon learned that she was an even better fighter than anyone he had ever met, including himself. What puzzled him most, was that it did not pose a problem to him that a woman could defeat him.
Now they were walking towards Morshas room after another training round. Morsha had tackled Thorin to the ground and they had come close for a while. But Thorins nephews had interrupted the private moment as they had entered the training area. The younger one, Kili, had snickered as he had seen the beautiful she-elf sit on his uncle. Morsha had blushed and had released her grip on Thorin. Thorin loved the color on the elfs cheeks, it made her look more girly. Now, that they had reached Morshas room the color in her cheeks had returned as she wished Thorin a good night. Thorin did not know why he did this, but he leaned closer to her and grabbed her wrist as she wanted to open the door. Softly he placed a kiss on the back of her hand. As he looked into her eyes he could see a deep and passionate fire burning up in them. Morsha lifted her other hand to his face and stroked his beard. She had to know that this was a very intimate gesture for a dwarf, for she smirked at Thorins surprised hiss. Thorin felt his stomach tighten with lust as he saw Morsha bite her lower lip. This time he leaned towards her a placed a soft kiss on her lips. Her hand moved from his beard into his hair and she tugged his braids lightly. Thorin growled into the kiss and pressed Morsha against the door of her room. The kiss began to heat up and Thorins hand moved from her hands, over her neck and down her side. Morsha had slung her arms around his neck and opened parted her lips as she felt Thorins tongue brush against her mouth. Thorin was demanding and grabbed her waist to press her harder against him. His lips moved to her jaw and down to her neck and he smirked against the soft skin of her neck as he heard her gasp. Thorin nibbled at the soft skin of her neck and Morsha reached for the door knob behind her. The couple stumbled into Morshas room as the door suddenly opened and Morsha pressed Thorin against the door from the inside, shuting it at the same time with a loud bang. Thorin struggled against the she-elfs dominance and lifted her up, carrying her to the bed. Morsha wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him down onto the soft could feel his erection pressing against her thighs, but it felt right. Thorin captured her lips in a fiere and passionate kiss. As she moaned into his mouth Thorin felt his control slip.
'What are you doing to me, elf?' he growled.
Morsha laughed quietly and pressed her hips upwards against Thorins, teasing him. Thorin let out a loud growl and grabbed her waist.
'I am a grown elf, master dwarf. I know what I want. And I want you.' Morsha whispered in Thorins ear sending hot and cold shivers down his spine. 'I'll let you take me.' she grinned as she saw his cocked eyebrow.
'Be careful what you wish for, elf.' Thorin growled, pulling her up into a sitting position and started to take of her leather armor and her tunic while Morsha skipped off her boots. Grumbling Thorin kissed her roughly, but still passionately as Morsha pulled his tunic over his head. Her eyes wandered over his upper body, her eyes gleaming with lust. Morsha moved her fingers over his body, trailing the lines of his muscles.
'Do you like what you see, my lady?' Thorin smirked and hissed as Morsha fingers moved down to his waist and started working on his pants.
'Very much, master dwarf.' Morsha murmured into his ear and pulled down his pants. 'I like what I see now much more.'
Thorin hurried to rid Morsha from all her remaining clothes. Soon the beautiful she-elf lay under him, totally naked. Her dark skin glowed in the light of the fire burning down in the fireplace. Thorin trailed wet kisses down her body, causing her to moan quietly. As he reached her core, she was already wet and ready for him. Thorin grabbed her wrists and captured her hands over her head. Morsha tried to struggle against his grip, but he was stronger than she was. With a powerful thrust he entered her completely. Morsha gasped as Thorin hit the sensitive spot inside of her and began pumping into her wildly. She lifted her hips to meet his and her moans got louder with everyone of Thorins thrusts. Thorin bit her neck, leaving a mark and let go of her hands. Morsha nails left deep scratches in Thorins back as she felt her climax build up inside of her. She cried out in delight as she came and send Thorin over the edge as well. Thorin groaned as his orgasm hit him forcefully and collapsed on the elf. He rolled off her to not crush her under his weight and pulled her into his arms. Later that night he made love to her two more times, making her scream out her passion for him. That night he had conquered her.
'Have you found her or the halfling?' Thorin asked Balin who had reported to him ths morning.
The old dwarf just shock his head. "We found the halfling. Bilbo is injured, but he will survive. No sign of Morsha anywhere on the battlefield.'
Thorin lowered his head. At least she had not fallen in battle. Sixty years later he would wish that she had.
Morsha awoke as six hooded, dark riders rode towards her. Grabbing her axes she stood up under pain. She was about to throw one axe at the lead of the riders as the rider threw back his hood. Her hood.
'Serja!' Morsha was relieved to see her old friend on the horse.
'What did he do to you?' Serja only whispered. Morsha lowered her head. Of course they knew. The council knew everything.
'Take me home.' Morsha asked her sisters. With the help of Serja she mounted the horse and rode back to her home, leaving her old life behind with every step.
'What if its a boy?' Serja asked Morsha a few days after they had returned home safely.
Morsha frowned. 'If its a boy, I'll kill him.'
Serja looked at her friend in astonishment. Morsha had been a soft and gentle elf as she had left for Rivendell. Serja had often thought that Morsha was to gentle for a dark elf, but she accepted her friend for who she was. Now, Morsha was bitter and cold-hearted. She refused to tell Serja what had happened to her the last year. Serja only knew what the council had told her, that Morsha was carrying a dwarven child, from a dwarf king whose mightiness would rise over the glory of all his ancestors. But Serja knew that there was more to the story. Never she had seen Morsha like that. She cried herself to sleep when she thought to be alone and gently caressed her belly when nobody watched. This dwarf had destroyed her friend and Serja hated him for that. She did not need to know the whole story, the result was enough for her.
Morsha felt her belly grow every day. The child started kicking and punching and Morsha felt that it had a strong fighting spirit. Months later she gave birth to a little girl. As Morsha looked down into her daughters face she stiftened. Her daughter had her fathers blue eyes. Morsha closed her eyes and saw Thorins face in her head. Thorin was smiling at her warmly, his eyes irradiating all his love for her. Morsha would be reminded of Thorin everytime she looked at her daughter and for that she also hated the innocent little girl.
'Senka! Move it!' Morsha trained the young girls in the training grounds of the city. Her daughter was five years old and struggling to keep up with the other girls. She was smaller than the others, but equally strong if not even stronger. Her dwarven ancestry was visible, but she also had her mothers beauty. And she shared her mothers hate for the kin of her father. Morsha had never told her much about her father, she had only told her that he had tried to kill her and had banned her from his kingdom. It was obvious to Senka that alone her looks reminded her mother of the dwarf who fathered her. And she hated him for it. Her mother always looked at Senka with pain in her eyes and pushed Senka harder and mercilessly in her education than the other young girls under her care. The other girls also had a hard time accepting Senka, for she was different. Senka worked and trained hard every day, her only goal was to be accepted into the community of the dark elves. No, her only goal was the acceptance of her mother.