Gazoghâsh

FERAL LOVE: ALL OF ME

"I never wish to see you again."

Narquelion's melodic voice was as sharp as shards of shattered glass as she relinquished the offspring. Her dark robes swished in a fluid movement as the Elleth spun to face away. Like the once pleasant illusion her slender frame vanished bleeding into the shadows that surrounded the clearing. He stood under the protection of Mirkwood trees. In utter shock, unable to react, his eyes held a blank stare in the direction she left in. After a short while his nose couldn't discern her scent any longer, she was gone, lifetimes away now and he was not invited along. The male's face grew darkened, his jaw tightened tremendously as his fingers moved stiffly clenching and releasing the fists. The muscle in his chest, one pumping blood, one responsible for feelings... It ached... Tweaked as the crushing agony constricted his chest. The algid fingers of despair crept in unhurriedly to take hold of it...

He clutched the child to his chest.

Her words rang over and over again in his throbbing head. He shook it, exasperated with the persistent thoughts.

The rider pivoted sharply to head to the nearest clearing.

Elves are perfect and pure...

"Hmmpff," the half-Orc grunted furiously. And self-absorbed... What the Elleth did was near bizarre to him, how could anyone even fathom that a female would give up a child, especially a daughter... His mirthless golden gaze descended onto the small, pudgy bundle laying in his lap. The baby was content, her eyes that resembled his own so much, smiled at him. She is just a tiny infant, she's got no clue she was just rendered motherless. What will he do when she needs to feed? Shapogatâr gulped, a deep sigh of helplessness has left his strong chest. He stroked his daughter's bright locks with absentminded gentleness.

"What will I name you, nardurash?" He whispered tenderly in the Orc tongue.

He was glad his daughter was born to posses more human features, in an odd way it will probably work in her favor. In a bout of helplessness he thought of traveling to Westfold to his old friend in arms but changed his mind. He loved her too much to let her go, even though this decision appeared to be incredibly selfish to the half-blood mercenary. What a life it is for a little girl, not having a roof over their heads, a home, a mother's figure..? He sat there transfixed for a while, back stooped, head bowed in resignation. His inky locks fell forth rimming his chiseled features. Suddenly the Orc felt a gentle tug, his little daughter grasped at his hair firmly, pulling it into her toothless mouth. The large warrior couldn't help but grin at this tiny mischief, she always managed to make him smile. Shapogatâr rose rocking the infant tenderly. He mounted his horse proceeding somewhere in the direction of the South-West. Fangorn crossed his mind, that's were the baby was brought into this world, that's were they had dwelled for a short while...

They came upon a very small human settlement and under the cover of the impenetrable flatland night he managed to slip in and fetch some goat milk. The mercenary wouldn't shy away from stealing, especially to get sustenance for his baby. He could have knocked and attempted to barter for it, however the Orc male could only envision the faces of the cottage owners had they laid their eyes onto him. Shapogatâr was over six feet tall, he wore Orc made leather, his teeth were long and incisive and his eyes glowed in the dark. So yes for him, peacefully knocking onto a villager's door was indeed out of the question.

They spent the night huddling in one of the grove patches that littered the plains. Thankfully the weather was still clement. After a bit of fussing his tiny daughter latched onto the makeshift baby bottle and he was indeed very relieved. Thus, nearly a week has passed and they managed to survive on stolen milk and hunted rabbits heading in a spontaneous direction that inevitably led to the revered wood. Soon, out of the morning mist, the outlines of the Misty Mountains appeared and the rest of the day was warm and bright, the golden rays inundated the grassy plains, the soft winds swished through the small groves. It was very peaceful, yet after a short trot the half-Orc halted his horse. Both him and the animal snorted sniffing the coming gusts of air feverishly. The equine brayed nervously, letting his front hooves leave the ground. From the protection of the nearest rocky outcrop crept a group. A group of riders encased in sturdy, craggy armor that was dusted with a layer of road-dirt. Shapogatâr bent his frame instinctively, - an Orc group. Their Wargs stalked toward the lone figure as if about to pounce, the riders snarled and scowled in a sign of aggression. It was their territory, he was an outsider. He wouldn't stand a chance. If he had only known these lands were claimed by someone... The territory still a great distance from the Misty range he reckoned would be the unclaimed Wilderlands.

The troop's advance was ceased by their leader who rode forth deliberately. All riders were imposing yet this one stood out. Unusually pallor, scar adorned hide made him resemble someone who never hesitated in inflicting deathly wounds. His cold eyes examined the lone rider. He had noticed his appearance, garb, weapon type, expression... The Orc's head tilted sidelong gradually, his eyes narrowed into slits. His limb jutted forth in utter silence and the soldiers dismounted instantaneously, wielding their jagged scimitars. Some grinned lopsidedly at the half-blood, there were ten against one. The mercenary leaped off positioning his horse sidelong so when he hid his tiny bundle in the long grass the hungry predators wouldn't detect it. Then he gripped his weapon at the ready.

The fight was brutal, draining and bloody. They swung to mangle, to dismember, to kill. Their clotted blood strewn weapons swung swiftly and with great force, yet he ward off all the onsets inflicting sharp cuts in his turn. Not by chance this was Shapogatâr's occupation, he was indeed very skilled. Various warlords paid him to fight their wars. Another swish of his serrated blade and the last attacker received a lengthy anfractuous scar along the entire length of his arm. Ink black shone in the Sun as the Orc howled pitifully clutching his disabled limb. The entire troop was doubled on the black, trampled grass as the half-blood wiped the sweat of his brow awaiting the leader's reaction.

Not detecting the Pale Orc's whereabouts the mercenary spun towards where his horse was last and his gaze landed onto what he grudgingly anticipated, the animal had bolted long ago. But that wasn't what horrified him. He turned to see the massive arm of the leader keeping hold of his precious daughter. Shapogatâr leapt forth swinging his bloody weapon, the large Orc sidestepped the left arm was held up at the half-blood. The limb severed at the forearm was replaced with a prong that now poised at his throat. The chilled glower warned him to stay put. Shapogatâr stood clutching the hilt as Azog shifted the infant unwrapping the rounded bundle inquisitively. The lone rider kept hold of something dearly before he faced his underlings and that didn't escape his sharp eye. Removing the rags let his gaze fall onto a human child. The baby yawned and blinked then her sleepy gaze focused onto the strange male that wasn't her father. Her ember eyes grew widened then to his shock her tiny lips stretched into a toothless grin. Azog frowned deeply, he expected anyone and anything to be instilled with utter fear at his very sight. The girl wiggled attempting to free her pudgy arms, then her wee palm plopped against his chest.

They say there is nothing like the trust of a child...

Azog attempted as hard as he could to hold onto a smile that fought its way persistently to take over his lips. He removed the wraps further revealing the baby's bright locks. The Orc commander brought his fingers forth to run through the soft flock with an unexpected to his large stature tenderness and so very carefully, she was miniature indeed. He let the grin to take over his lips. Bowing his head further the Orc male stared straight into her eyes continuing to swirl her bright waves between his broad fingers.

"Rimkaur." His deep, gruff voice lowered into a soft murmur.

The Defiler did not have children. He did not have time to bother with such sorts of things yet laying his eyes onto this doll-like, helpless and yet friendly human child imbued his heart with warmth.

"Latub"? He spun gradually. Shapogatâr nodded and Azog strode nearer.

"What of the imp's mother?" The narrowed, algid stare was fixed onto the half-blood's sickening worry etched features.

Pausing for a moment the mercenary thought not to bother and indeed, that was what she was to him now.

"Gorun." Feelings seeped away to steel his features.

The Pale Orc gazed over the infant once more, she was too young to survive without female's milk. He handed the child over heading back to his beast. A several of his warriors were prodded with the tip of his heavy boot. A few whimpered yet one did not care for the gesture, the shapeless form lay contorted on the stomped grass. Azog's brow lifted, he spun to flash the half-blood a sinister grin.

"Now, you have a Warg."

x x x

Being accepted with the Gundabad Orcs that now occupied parts of Moria was better than he expected. His skill had served him once again, he impressed the Pale Orc greatly, replacing the soldier he slayed he was now a pizgal, commanding a company of ten. The same fact that brought relief terrified Shapogatâr to no end. Now his human daughter will grow up surrounded by the Orc males.

The leader was quite gracious, and indeed the mines were vast. They settled in a fairly large stone dwelling nestled into the wall somewhere in the middle of the Northern passage. He had many responsibilities now and someone had to take care of the little Rimkaur. The Pale Orc was fascinated by his daughter's bright shock of hair and the word he whispered had stuck. Especially after their arrival when the baby was passed onto an Orcess. The female clutched the small bundle to her chest running fingers through the infant's tresses in amazement, she had never seen an imp with so much hair. Azog had reiterated the name and the young mother nodded in great approval, so Shapogatâr after all had no choice but to comply.

Her name was Narbai. Rimkaur's new mother. A black-haired, green-eyed gentle soul. She had just lost a child not days before the newcomers arrival and sulked hopeless in her cavern. It was hard, harder also was the fact that her mate had perished just a few months prior, she hoped to have some memory of him remaining and now even that hope had dissipated. Her unfortunate fate had worked out greatly to the little human's favor and the Orcess accepted the child just as if her own had suddenly come back to life. She set to feeding the baby right away retreating to the small round cavern where all the young Orclings were herded.

Narbai refused to look at her stillborn's body, she did not want to see the motionless face, dead eyes, she did not want to know whether it was a male or a female. But now she had a daughter that was very soft and plushy and best of all so warm and alive... The Orcess couldn't get enough of stroking the smooth skin, the soft curls... She'd never seen human babies and adults humans only from a very great distance so she simply stared at the child as the little girl clutched her breast hungrily, her tiny fingers made small, rounded indentations in the plump flesh. Other females took notice scooting nearer, whispering and ogling and very soon every Orc in the mines knew of the unusual newcomer.

x x x

The tiny female sat on the scabrous stone floor with her legs crossed, she fiddled with a few polished bones, scrupulously attempting to fashion a bracelet. She saw some older females adorned with a few and so desperately wanted to have one of her own. Her thick wavy hair cascaded into a messy pile onto her thin shoulders. She wore a simple soft leather tunic her step mother had made. Rimkaur was just four. She hadn't seen much of her father over those years. His new rank kept him extremely occupied. However Narbai dotted on her shamelessly.

"What did I tell you nardurash?" Narbai feigned seriousness. "Do not sit on the bare floor. Not good for your insides." She walked up swooping the toddler with ease. "One day I want to see you have many strong imps." She grinned lifting the girl up to the level of her face. The Orcess let go and Rim's brow furrowed.

"Nar." She pouted. "No impth."

Narbai stepped closer shaking her finger. "You better." She grinned mischievously. "I want grandkids."

"No, no want to." Rimkaur backed up starting to pout, yet she held onto a smile simultaneously.

"Why not?" Her ma crossed her arms, her brows drew together in feigned disappointment.

Rim shrugged her shoulders. " 'Cus I need one uh dose to hav'dem." The tiny human pursed her lips in the best expression of fury she could manage throwing her finger into the air to point outside the dwelling.

Her ma could not contain a chuckle. "You mean a male?"

As the little one nodded the female swept her up swiftly once again. Giving her daughter a spin she held the child close to her heart embracing her tight as Rim struggled to wiggle out. With a playful shriek she had nearly succeeded now hanging with her head down.

"Maaa..." She panted. "Lemme go. I no want no male, dey eyes glue on me..." Rim's face morphed red from hanging upturned.

"Oh do they now?" A smirk quirked Narbai's lips. "Well, you better get used to it."

The scraping sounds of grave footsteps resounded the antechamber and Rimkaur had nearly bounced off the floor like a tiny rubber ball as Narbai fumbled to fix her messy, black locks.

"Daaaaaaa!" The tiny female leapt up hanging onto his belt. "You back! You back!"

Her father's weary face was instantly brought to light, she always made him smile. As he scooped her with just one arm her slender limbs held onto his neck, she brought her nose to touch his then ruffled his strands with her face. "I missed you da..."

The tall warrior embraced his only offspring tenderly.

"So did I, hûnizub." He planted a kiss on her nose. "You grew."

Narbai took his weapon as he flashed her a grateful smile, the Orcess answered with a coy nod.

x x x

The mountainside was pretty steep and covered in condensation. They hang onto to the patches of moss, bent branches and roots slowly making their way up. Narbai hadn't let go of Rim's hand even though the stubborn girl wanted to test her strength. Twenty minutes on the winding, massive boulder rimmed path and the landscape had opened up. The little human's mouth fell open, before them was an enormous mountainous meadow. The females and their offspring spread out, each had a leather sack to gather blueberries and moss-berries. The fruit was used to make liquor and as small meals for imps in order to prevent scurvy.

"What ye waiting for. Go on!" Narbai nudged Rim gently while her step daughter gaped at all the colors. Her gaze fell onto her large sack, she had a lot of work to do. The girl dove into the berry bushes eagerly, more fruit ended up in her mouth then in the pouch.

The tiny human eyed this extremely bright and ripe red patch and darted toward it yet she wasn't the only one interested. Her pallor hand landed onto the branch exactly the same time as the dark grey one. Both children gazed up staring in momentary astonishment.

"I saw dis first." The Orcess held onto the thin branch with more force.

"Nuh, I did." Rim pouted, measuring the young female with her ember eyes. She did not relinquish the delicious prize.

They started a staring contest tugging sharply and squeezing the branch tighter and tighter until both of their faces were suddenly mired with bright red. Both girls gaped staring in shock at their red mush covered palms, then up at each other again. All at once they burst out laughing, poking one another, wiping their sticky hands onto each other's lengthy tresses.

"I'm Rimkaur." The human managed, panting through the laughter.

"Bûrzkaur." Grinned the tiny Orcess.

x x x

Over the next few years she had adapted quite well to the environment, despite the fact that she was the only human in the densely populated Orc kingdom. Well, half human. Her paternity was well known, and her sire had chosen to keep the fact of her Elven roots hidden. The Golgi tart blood was diluted enough for the population not to pinpoint the smell. Nursed by the Orcess the black-blooded quarter of Rimkaur's blood pushed itself forth.

Rimkaur considered Narbai her mother, however Shapogatâr planned to reveal more when she grows to be a little older. As smart as his daughter was, she had already began realizing how strikingly different she was from the rest of all Moria imps. Secretly from all, little by little, he began teaching her Westron. He knew that soon, too soon her life might take a peculiar turn. As any father his job was to shield her from anything and everything and the little female had already began to receive the unwanted attention from the opposite sex...

Yet what was to happen soon, wasn't what he ever anticipated.

Black Speech:

Shapogatâr - Avenger

Narquelion (Quenya) - Fire-fading Autumn

Nardurash - Little one

Latub - yours

Gorun - dead

Rimkaur - Copper Hair

Pizgal - corporal

Narbai - Safety

Nar - No

Hûnizub - My love (lit My Heart)

Bûrzkaur - (lit) Dark hair

Golgi -Elf female

I was so impressed with Aleks Paunovic’ character Julius when I saw VH first I had to recreate him in my own way 🖤

Ты – в плаще. И дым сигареты.

Дождь. И мокрый асфальт Берлина.

Лица – словно теней портреты

Храм готический – как картина...

Вдохновлено и посвящено @kapriss-art 🖤 Обожаю эту песню!

<b>Azog and Rimkaur mating bite</b> by my sweet friend Kaelara Marie.

The sexual tension and desire is palpable, as if they are barely able to control themselves🖤