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Chapter Thirteen

"The Way Home"

'Arcane dominion' by Eluveitie

"Son of Azog the Defiler, you have the Elven King for a grandfather." Rimkaur frowned pouting her lips towards her son. She held him above her head with arms outstretched. Ash stuck his tongue out producing a spitting sound then kicked his arms and legs vigorously.

"Yes hûnizub that's exactly what I think." The mother cuddled her baby to her chest.

"What are we going to do..? How are we going to get home..?" She lowered her face into his neck and the Orcling giggled tickled by his mother's breath.

Young he is, doesn't know it yet... The thought of her child growing up in the Elven Kingdom set her mind to race. More so than the fact that the faired-haired Elf was the one who fathered her birth mother. The latter knowledge did not arrive to meet a shocked reaction. She did harbor suspicions ever since. Her newfound relative appeared to enjoy the company of her son yet the same grandfather wouldn't succumb to pleas of setting them on their own. Her recent proposal hadn't received a serious reply... The mother did all she could and the baby's heritage wasn't to be denied yet one way or the other he will be exposed, taught, influenced by Elves... That wasn't something Azog would have never wanted.

Rimkaur set her jaws into the tight line attempting to combat the tears, which if they came would inadvertently morph into the uncontrollable sobs... Her son couldn't witness that yet again. The human kept as resilient as she could manage yet the thoughts of her perished mate had never left her, she was simply distracted by the everyday life... The only joy and the reason to remain living was their boy.

Carrying the child in her womb, bringing him into the world altered something within her or perhaps brought something forth. Seven months into the pregnancy the voices began to appear, indistinct and quiet at first they grew more persistent and invasive. Was the occurrence the end of her sanity? Was it grief that had finally taken its toll..? Yet pushing the child out filled her mind with the light, gentle murmur as if someone hummed happily... That pleasant sound was interrupted instantly by the words as knife-edged as a newly sharpened blade, those words rang in her head pulsating with their sinister nature. The image evoked, a child screaming, gasping for breath as it sank to the bottom of the raging Forest River. And then the realization came crashing down, all this time the voices in her head weren't her own, they belonged to others...

Thoughts... And the last ones were Leptafynia's.

Yet Thranduil it's as if he knew... Blocked everything out, guarded his mind, his intentions, his secrets. All she was able to obtain wasn't of much relief, but Ashlûk's name fluttered past his thoughts in great amounts...

At times she could hear no one... Sometimes she wished it would not reappear yet it always returned in renewed strength, a swarm of muted chatter that took away peace...

Ash flipped smooshing his face into his Ma's chest fumbling tiredly for a breast. The growing Orcling would need meat very soon and in the Kingdom of vegetarian dwellers that would prove hard to acquire.

Rimkaur refused to dress Ash in the Elven clothes as well fashioning him a tiny loin cover and the half-sleeve shirt. He will need some leather booties shortly too... How badly she wished she could get her hands on some leather strings, claws, bones, teeth... The bright shock of his wild hair would need some embellishment and order...

The thoughts of decoration brought her mind to her own, her tiny silver locket was missing... Another tie she had to her family vanished without a trace...

Foreign thoughts invaded suddenly and Rimkaur's embers fixed onto the wrought iron décor on the hefty exterior door. A subtle, courteous knock followed.

x x x

So much Elven life he'd spent just to reclaim what was rightfully his... A trinket that reminded him of her so heartbreakingly much... Only to find someone else. Would he put her life in jeopardy simply to get the keepsake back..? The unfinished nature of the situation irked him, amend all those lives to have spent not without reason, yet risk one more in return..? There must be a great price on her head in the Dwarven lands...

When the news and rumors have reached he didn't think twice yet witnessing his granddaughter awake ushered forth the truth. The fact of her consorting with the Orc simply confirmed it. Rimkaur killed the Dwarf. The visceral nature of the deed, the amount of bloodshed told him to keep her subdued. Keep her on his good side. Yet how long could she remain without her power crushing her innocent façade..? Yet she'd do anything for her son, anything for the imagined freedom. Her proposal came at the right time. He wished she succeeded. Yet still... In any case the offspring of the Pale lineage will be securely in his grasp. The King had great hopes.

"I have reconsidered." Thranduil alighted Rimkaur with his intent gaze. The light blue irises held a smile shimmering in their depths.

All arguments she wanted to present had suddenly vanished without a trace.

"Yet there is one question that remains." The King bowed his head in a habitual, conceding manner. "What of your son?"

The young woman wasn't taken off guard by her grandfather's query. She inhaled deeply, underneath the cloak unnoticeably her fingers came together clenching into fists.

"The decision... did not come easy, Thranduil." Rim's embrace tightened on the bundle on her chest. "The choice I have to make to buy my freedom from you... Is to leave my son in your care." Just the words forced the tears to crawl to the surface stinging her eyes, the words she'd never thought to utter. To leave the most precious being to her with someone else just so the future will be what she'd wanted... At least partially... On one hand it didn't make sense to the young mother but on the other it did... She had to attempt. The risk was ever more apparent to her given the grandfather's hidden intentions. ...Rim was desperate... All escape attempts were to fail.

"I cannot take him..." She hang her head to meet the hope rising alive in her grandfather's eyes. "But if there is but a hair on his head missing... And do not think you can..." The Elf detected a black ripple in the embers of her eyes.

Thranduil rose, the aquamarine depths illuminated with the kindness yet which one, - truthful or pretentious...

"No threats necessary child." The corners of the male's lips curled into a calm smile. "I am compelled to at least attempt, why will you not stay?"

"Why won't you let us go sans anything in return?" Rimkaur's response was derisive yet her voice raw with emotion.

"He is dead now you all drown in joy... I just want to go home..." It took a great effort, she bit her lip to nearly draw blood to keep from shaking as she spoke. The human's gaze lifted sharply then fell onto the sleeping Ash and the scorching salty water flowed free.

"Do not let Leptafinya touch him." Her voice was nothing but a whisper.

Her arms refused to listen when her mind told them to let go, she relinquished the bundle as if it was her heart she had newly carved out of her chest. One more condition bestowed on her made the predicament even more so real, the intent more inauspicious... If she would not return in two weeks from midnight her son would remain in the Woodland Kingdom for the lifetime.

x x x

The chilled early morning mist entombed the mountainside and the nearby valley in its embrace appearing nearly bluish against the early morning sky. The air was crisp and biting, the occasional wind gusts rustled the scattered snowflakes and the small rocks that littered the terrain. The eerie and empty landscape was brightened by the peaking Sun and the small sound that grew louder and drew closer, indistinct at first it took over the vast space coupled with cheerful and loud children's laughter. The melody of an accordion and guitars came together to form an uplifting and energy filled ballad as gypsy caravan neared Dale. The once ruins on the precipice the city came a long way just in the year's time. The structures were being restored quickly and with purpose, various trade routes were being re-established. The caravan paused briefly at the city's gates before proceeding inward. The carts split up inside, following through the cobble-stone streets at a slower pace. Rolling down the hill one of the wagons rode over a rock, it careened rightways bouncing off the wall of a dwelling as the driver was able to steady the cart. Everyone escaped unscathed except for one tiny misfortune, a small child slid out of her mother's grasp. The dark-haired girl fell onto the tossed grain sacks and after a pause she released a terrified wail, her deep blue eyes quickly filled with the pitiful tears. The helping hands came to the child's aid this early morning and the mother froze gripped with the sudden terror as her stare landed on a raggedy figure of a beggar. The black decrepit rags hang around the thin figure as it swooped close standing the tot upright. The beggar dusted her clothes and the little one flashed a shy smile leaping onto the wagon's bed. After a moment of thought the raven-haired gypsy fumbled in the folds of her skirt revealing an uneven-edged coin she tossed it to the vagrant. The latter nodded as the carriage moved on disappearing down the constricted, winding street. Then it bent, the gaunt, pallor fingers grasped the shiny piece of metal holding it up into the light, the Durin's emblem and the head of the late king decorated the smooth surface of the coin's face. Inside the hood of the cloak two orbs came to light, they flashed matching the light of the rising Sun then faded into arcane blackness.

x x x

His voice filled with assuredness and strength was a pretense. It echoed into the vast vault of his kingdom. His companion bowed his head in an despair fueled anger and strode out as straight as he could, his snow white beard swaying in the air produced by his brisk steps. The leader remained atop his large seat, the knuckles paled from the force he held the armrests with. The straw-blond hair fell neatly upon his slightly hunched shoulders. His mane was structured with even more intricate braids, the garb was opulent yet a hint of darkness plagued his blue gaze. Fili stared into nowhere. The tragedy of his loss had to be shoved out the way as the young Durin was to become the King under the mountain, as he was now. The leader of his kin had only recently left Erebor after spending an almost entire year in aiding and instructing the next in line. They said he was ready to rule, to be a great leader, hold the responsibility yet inside the young Dwarf was in shambles. He wasn't strong enough, wise enough... His uncle should have been sitting here with him and Kili by his side... His stare was unblinking the cheekbones rolled under his skin in an attempt of self control. Then they came to life, his head turned deliberately as the blurred-blue depths of his eyes reflected the yellow shimmer of the colossal hoard. Something else plagued the Durin. Like a genetic disease the golden sickness wrapped its sickly fingers around his heart crushing his will power unhurriedly as the arkenstone emitted it shimmering light above the backrest... There was no way to resist and it wasn't as if he would want to... Have a speck left to care. The cheerful Fili left in him wanted and he did yet all the new King was beginning to regard was the gold...

x x x

'All that I'm living for' by Evanescence

Raven Hill was swaddled in snow just like the day she watched him die. Rimkaur broke the stare, her knuckles cracked as she attempted to subdue the crippling fever of emotions.

Such a short distance separated her from the colossal gates of the enemy's lair. In a matter of a couple of days she gathered the information she needed yet the toughest step remained.

Ash's cry rang in her head once again... Her gaze became blank. She must, she has to... For him... Rim owed her life to the Elven King, now came the time to pay him back and earn her child's liberty.

Foolish she was still, she, the most loathed creature in the Dwarven Kingdom... Even more so than the Pale Orc... Yet Rim was stubborn, daftly determined... Let it be the quality that propels her to victory... But she also needed luck.

And then it came, very fortunate turn of events she might have expected herself. A few wagons from the gypsy caravan headed down the steep, brick inlaid road toward the front gate. No one objected hers tagging along, who'd regard a feeble vagrant a threat..? The arrival was announced and she was allowed in with the rest.

Once inside a chill rolled through her frame. Every contracted muscle shrieked to retreat, her breath caught. Enemy's territory... Wanted... Dead... With the thunderous screech the double doors shut aback of the group.

Rimkaur gazed up into the limitless ceilings, the intricate, architectural and vast it was. The arches, vaults, passageways resembled a maze... All of it grand, dark and... Immense. How was she to discover what she required guided simply by the vague rumors, faded memories, nothing concrete or certain...

When they neared the inner hall an iridescent, faint glow could be seen upon the stone structure when one of the sidelong corridors wasn't concealed in time. That was all the young human required. The time wasn't on her side however. When the gypsies halted their procession her tatter clothed silhouette receded into the shadows.

The human rushed through the corridors avoiding any presence in the corners pervaded with the welcoming darkness. Many staircases led her deeper where it seemed as if there will be no escape. The glow grew wider, brighter, the numerous coins littered the cool rock inlaid ground. The foreign speech echoed in the tunnel nearby and Rim flattened against the wall once again. She had to get out of these catacombs before gypsies decide to vacate the mount.

Finally and gradually the dark bricks morphed into the sea of blinding yellow. The woman stood at the top of the stairs, its bottom vanished into the golden pile who knew how deep. She gazed behind her cautiously before focusing on the hoard. So that's what all was for... His Gold. He risked all for this, yet here it sits still, idle, colossal, useless. Perhaps the Dwarf planned to bathe in it..? A corner of her mouth contorted as she descended noiselessly scanning the unusual terrain. The King's seat sat atop the massive platform, four narrow black marble bridges connected the structure to the corresponding corners of the room, many staircases led up and down resembling an elaborate puzzle... Rimkaur headed forth, well worn leather boots compressed the coins causing small avalanches. A sigh of helplessness escaped her... So much ground to cover...

And then it happened as if by a miracle her weary gaze caught a speck of light. On a deteriorated, limestone pedestal there lay a necklace, the precious stones shone brightly just as the starlight worshiped by its owner. Rimkaur's thin fingers grasped the jewels not believing the luck. Now her path lay back through the golden bog and up the endless staircases, the human spun swiftly, the gesture caused the shimmering rivulets to pour and she had to steady herself on her feet. When she straightened to stare ahead she wasn't alone.

"Rua..?" A hoarse voice uttered, the owner squinted his eyes puzzlingly as if unable to see well. But just as if the clouds had suddenly moved in over his blue gaze the male's face contorted in fury, the jaws clenched, teeth gritted audibly in an obviously painful manner.

That's when the darkness obscured it all.

x x x

Fingers twitched, bending deliberately they tested, felt the scabrous and damp surface. Rimkaur came to, she straightened her upper body sharply. The chains rattled as her limbs slid over the floor in panic attempting to force her dizzy mind to order the body to rise. The uneven heavy chunks of metal rubbed her skin raw and the woman released an irked grunt. Apparently the Dwarves didn't put that much craftsmanship into their dungeon equipment. A figure watching her stepped out of the shadow filled corner. The flaming embers lifted sharply.

"Tell me," Fili clasped his hands at the bottom of his back proceeding to stride back and forth along the prison bars. He resembled his uncle in his mannerisms. "Is this worse than an Orc dungeon?" His cornflower gaze was filled with a near genuine curiosity and Rim blinked puzzled for a fleeting moment. She inspected his face through the bars suddenly overcome, crushed by the seriousness of her predicament. Fili smiled audibly shaking his head as if it all was simply a jest. For a transient moment he resembled his true cheerful self. The Dwarf murmured something but as if to himself, under his breath. His eyes shut and opened with the renewed fury.

"What happened to you Fili?" The human inquired plainly.

"You." The young Dwarf lurched, grasping the bars in rage.

Taken aback Rimkaur remained still. This was not the same straw-haired Dwarf she'd known briefly.

"You murder him! You! And then..." The heir of Durin's skin paled to an almost deathly shade as he spat in fury. "You carve the name... The name of that... That filth into his face..!" The many emotions weakened his body Fili was forced to draw in a whistling breath pausing his tirade.

"That 'filth' was my only love." The woman straightened her back pressing her lips into the tightest of lines. The confession caused the Dwarf's face to distort in detest.

"I avenge my own." Her mouth curved into a bitter smirk.

"And I will mine." The male brought his face forth nearly touching the wrought iron.

"Much honor in killing a lonely woman." Rimkaur rattled her chains, for the first time she'd noticed her shoes were missing. To her last statement she did not need an answer. Unforeseen to her Fili's thoughts proceeded to crawl into her head and a shiver rolled up her spine. Tragedy changes people, sometimes to an unrecognizable degree. The young human's mind fluttered back to the different set of dark tunnels, her in a mighty lap of the Orc King. "...One day I will kill him..." She said then, and she did. She kept her promise, duty to the one she worshipped then, respected, loved... The fingers compressed into fists she was inundated with the sudden pride, she accomplished the task she was free from the burden. Rimkaur did not regret it one bit. Her cloudy gaze returned to the baleful and mocking stare of the Dwarven King. She held it relentlessly.

"Not a woman, a witch." Fili clenched his jaws in a genuine disdain. "We await one of my kin." The Dwarf's head tilted a degree as he uttered the words in a proud kingly manner. "He wishes to witness you for himself." Bowing slightly as if they just finished a pleasant chat the King strode out of the dank pit briskly.

x x x

She dreamt of her son again... Those moments of the uneasy repose tore her apart... He cried in every one of them... What will his fate be...

"Ashlûk..." Her lips moved barely.

A heavy screech and the hefty steps pervaded the eerily quiet cavernous chamber. A rotund figure of a Dwarf halted peering through the bars. His hair were lengthy and coarse, the color of rust. He released a low grunt before unlocking the cell.

"Just a wee lass ye'ar." He let out in a low, husky voice examining her small frame and shaking his head. "Yet Balin and Dwalin confirmed..." The stout male spun away as if contemplating... The next thing she knew his hefty fist connected with her jaw. The dark spots and flashes of light obscured her vision Rim slacked yet did not fall, the chains were screwed into the wall. He glared at her gasping and bleeding. The human unbent slowly, unsteadily, holding her chin as high as she could.

"Carve the fuckuh's bloody name..." The male struck again this time in the torso forcing more blood to trickle escaping her mouth. "...In his face..." He recited bluntly.

She will not cry out, will not beg, will not let them see her tears...

Rimkaur's eyes obscured with blackness. Yet there was something about this place... Or perhaps the death of her mate the distance that separated her and Ashlûk... She felt feeble, powerless, fragile as if even her ability had deserted her... Yet she could still hear his unobstructed, sickening thoughts. He wanted to degrade her, reduce her to nothing, it would please him to hear her weep for her life...

"That will bring the slattern down a notch." Dain called out to someone in the shadows as Rimkaur struggled to breathe, her lips shook violently from the force she compressed her jaws together with to reign in the shouts of agony.

"Beating a chained woman... A true ruler..." Were the only words she spat at him as he stared into the voids of her eyes paralyzed for a fleeting moment. The Dwarf's fist retracted once again.

"Stop." Fili stepped out of the mirk.

Launching a pool of saliva onto the mucky floor Dain strode out wiping his knuckles.

"Fili..." The bloodied black-eyed creature let out, her voice strained, barely audible. She saw a speck of compassion in his faded blue depths after he interrupted the assault. "Unchain me... Not myself I ask for... A life depends on mine..."

The blond Dwarf fiddled with the keys attempting to lock the grate yet his trembling hands refused to listen.

x x x

A cloaked figure was barely visible against the shadows lurking in the main hall of the Elven Kingdom. Thranduil seemed oblivious however. The King rested on his throne dangling a few trinkets in front of the suspicious Ash. The baby was getting bored and hungry. No toys or attractions would compare to his mother's hugs. Suddenly the little one pitched his nose concentrating his icy gaze into the darkness. The Ocling's lips twitched forming a tiny smirk so similar to his father's. The baby's decreasing attention put his grandfather on alert yet before the king or his unsuspecting guards could react the form advanced, more so floated forth.

"I'm much older than you Thranduil." The calm, even voice came from the shadow of the figure's garb to startle the nearby sentries. "Yet age did not play even the smallest part." The shadow halted at the bottom of the steps. The form's concealed face lifted as the Elf stared into the void of her cloak. Pitch black darkness...

"Even this child guesses your intentions." The figure floated forth so abruptly the King could not twitch a muscle before the young Orcling was in the different embrace. One hand held the child, another lifted in a curt yet graceful movement slipping off the hood. The candle glow reflected off her locks as black as the raven's feather, her ink eyes caught the tiny flickering lights morphing into the same fiery ember shade.

"Are you going to let her die." The witch directed her hypnotizing eyes to the still speechless Elf.

Finally managing to erase the look of the complete stupefaction from his perfectly even features Thranduil's eyes twinkled with something akin to curiosity as he floated down the stairs. Dizzyingly rapid whirlwind of thoughts raged in his head.

"It's been a while... Morhûn." The Elf bowed his blond head barely.

Other times the jade would enjoy the pleasantries banter with the King who thought himself exceptionally witty. He amused her. Now was the worst time to waste time.

"...You made the choice for her." The Elven Lord opened his mouth yet the sibyl preceded him.

"You haven't been right by your daughter, do something for hers." Her golden eyes bore through his, Thranduil exhaled audibly, flipping his robe he returned onto his seat setting his arms in a regal manner. Thoughts of Narquelion set his lips aquiver, when he faced the witch however his calm and steely gaze surveyed the platform, the ruler of the realm was impervious.

x x x

...The grass was as green as it always was that sinister day

The blackbirds sang their songs as they always did that black letter day

We passed the great gate for the very last time

We did not look back because we knew we'd stay...

The moon rose released from the cloud's overeager arms it casted a silvery ray onto the floor of her cell... Midnight... Two weeks... Alone she let the scorching tears flow embracing her knees. The salty water mixed with the coagulated blood, the rivulets dripped down flowing into a sinister river down her chest. She failed her boy... She has no one to blame but herself... No sleep came that night and the morning greeted her with the warmest January Sun. Not a cloud in the sky, a lovely cheerful day. That's when they arrived. The guards came and dragged her away. Outside, no ceremonials, no trials, just a sea of expectant folk with the scowls on their faces and the pile of compressed straw with the long wooden pole affixed to the pile of the grain sacks. The Dwarves wrapped the rope around her gaunt frame until it was a struggle to breathe. The same rust-haired male was gesticulating as he spoke pointing to her yet she didn't hear a word... It was as if all the senses except sight had withdrawn from her body. There was no fear, no sorrow... Just regret. Where in her life she'd made a misstep to have become as powerless as a hatchling...

No one gave her a chance to speak her last mind, all the mocking, odious shouts flowed past her ears Rimkaur stared ahead to where without the blanket of clouds the tip of the Mount Gundabad was visible clearly, her pallid face contorted yet the eyes remained waterless.

She will not beg, will not let them see her tears...

A barely concealed, gleeful grin was plastered onto the Dwarf's face when he dipped the torch into the fire pit aback of him. He brought it forth unhurriedly as if to bedevil, torment, infuriate... He shouted something to the crowd keeping the stare yet the human looked away marveling at the northern horizon.

The flames approximated...

Unexpectedly the brightly lit morning sky obscured with patchy, dense clouds which brought the alternating rains over the valley's depression. Rim looked up, for a moment her mouth tipped into a sarcastic smirk.

"Dump the oil onto the ropes..." Someone shouted, to meet the Dwarf's grunt of approval. "Burn her! Burn the witch!"

"Do you hold our truce of importance?" An assurance filled voice stated with a tiny hint of disdain and mockery. Yet as always his mere appearance forced the population to ignore the mischievous hints of his pronunciation. Using the shock his unforeseen appearance caused the male rode forth letting his mount part the crowd.

"Killing one of my kin would prove it canceled." And just as during the meeting at the Battle of the Five Armies Thranduil's aquamarine eyes caught the flickering Sun rays to light up with the impish, taunting spark.

"One of yours eh?" Contemplated Dain the Executioner. He never liked the King of Mirkwood, more accurately loathed the guts of the woodland sprite. He remembered the very recent treaty yet that was of Fili's doing... The good of his kin was of most importance, the hefty male let out a grunt tossing the torch aside. Yet innocently so the flames caught the tar covered straw. They gulped the dried grass, leaping over to the victim...

"Dwarves aren't known for grace..." The Ironfoot shrugged, gloat concealed in his squinted stare.

And at once the shadowy darkness obscured the spectators, if flowed past, rushing towards the fire, enveloping the condemned.

Rimkaur stood still welcoming the arcane wave, when it dissipated falling in tiny ribbons around her she wasn't the same. The flames were extinguished, the lacerations and bruises relinquished the hold on her alabaster hewn face. No light reflected in the bottomless voids that became her eyes. She leaped off the mound deftly without bending her rigid frame.

"The witch I am." The long incisors made her scowl even more wicked. The disquieting blackness of her orbs seems to leak away to pin the stout Dwarf to the spot. He gulped and blinked rid of his ever present cockiness.

"You keep your miserable life..." Rimkaur darted a stare past the crowd onto the crag. "...For now." She circled him to meet a gush of air and retreat from the surrounding crowd.

"Would you like to know how you will die however?" A baleful smirk peeked her crimson lips.

x x x

Up on the escarpment away from the hatred repleted valley Rimkaur rushed towards the black robe encased figure only to fall into her arms. And in the embrace of a loved one she let herself go.

"You're never alone child." Morhûn's spindly fingers caressed her tresses as they morphed back into the darkened copper. Pulling away the witch revealed the fur bundled Ash. As the baby nuzzled into his mother's neck her arms closed around him never to let go. The soundless steps of the ruler of Mirkwood halted right behind her. Yet Thranduil simply nodded and without a thought Rimkaur wrapped her wiry arms around his waist. Taken aback by the loving gesture the Elf let his arms slack before mirroring Morhûn's tenderness by stroking Rim's locks awkwardly.

"Thank you." She whispered, face smooshed into his robes.

"No need child." He replied.

Something happened to Thranduil. As if that deed, simply that nod of confirmation had also set him free. In that single moment he gained her trust, her respect, her love...

"You'll be seeing me again, you can be sure of it... Grandfather." Rimkaur gazed up with an mischievous smile, a spindle of light reflected on something she clutched in her fist.

x x x

Two years after the Battle

The gusty winds tore at the pelt positioned roughly onto his squared shoulders. The forces of nature whistled against the sharp rocks blowing handfuls of snow into the squinted eyes of the riders. But he did not care. His blood ran as cold as the frigid air they inhaled. This was his home, his domain, he came to reclaim it. His second in command would have squashed the uprising as fast as he would... All pointed to the latter's demise. As backstabbing as some were the half-blood was loyal, as loyal as his... The male's pupils widened at the thoughts so persistently creeping into his mind, heart... The same organ that's been encased in ice ever since...

The Orc's algid fingers came to form a tight, crushing fist around the hilt of his weapon, the algidity filled stare gave the valley of Gundabad a long, intent glower. Boshoks will pay for their insolence. The King spun to direct his blood curdling stare to his soldiers.

"Forth." Azog hissed.

*Excerpt in Italics, from 'Alesia' by Eluveitie

Black Speech:

Hûnizub - My love (Lit. My heart)

Boshoks - Highlanders (Tribes of Ered Mithrin)