Stirring Up Some Farewell Shit

"What I would like to know is, what happened to the village we were supposed to raid, hmmm?" Nazluk mused casually.

Grushak and Bragdagash looked at one another. The leader's eyes widened a bit. What with all the... goings on, he'd forgotten completely about the reason Mushog and Kurbag were gone in the first place. All eyes now turned to Kurbag.

"Hey, don't look at me," Kurbag protested. "She told us the village was already done by another band, and it was crawling with tark soldiers."

"And you believed her without checking it out yourself?" Nazluk asked. "If you were Mushog, I would say twat clouded your brain, but since she wouldn't have you..."

"Leave it, Nazluk," Bragdagash warned. "We can always go back and check. If she didn't lie, the tarks'll be gone by now. If she did, we get a good bit of spoils."

"And what of her, if she lied?"

No one seemed anxious to come up with a what if scenario at the moment.

"I've seen a lot in my time," Rukshash noted as he fished around in one nostril unconcernedly. "Can smell a lying tark a mile away. That one didn't stink like a liar."

Before Nazluk could press the issue, the bushes at the copse parted and Mushog emerged looking disheveled and dazed. He just stood there with his mouth slightly open, his breath coming in short, sharp huffs. Even from across the camp, it was clear he was trembling all over.

It was the haunted look in his eyes that silenced any good-natured ribbing about the three hours he'd spend in Shannon's company. Very slowly, he got himself moving again, eventually coming around to find a perch on one of the logs. He sat gingerly, grunting slightly and wincing as he eased himself down.

Bragdagash frowned deeply, staring at the Uruk. "What the fuck happened to you?" he hissed.

Mushog couldn't even look his leader in the face, and kept staring at the campfire.

Glancing around, Grushak said, "Where's the tark?"

Gesturing vaguely in no specific direction, Mushog muttered, "She went hunting."

Nazluk smirked at Bragdagash's shocked expression. The leader barked, "You let her go?"

"I couldn't stop her," the stricken Uruk mumbled.

"Fuck, Mushog, could you have at least gone after her?" Bragdagash snarled. He exchanged a furious look with Grushak. Both were thinking the same thing.

"I... I... couldn't move," Mushog whimpered, and every head turned sharply toward him. That pathetic, weak, unsteady voice surely did not just come out of Mushog. "I couldn't move." His voice died to a whisper and he shook his head slowly. "I couldn't move."

Unnerved in ways none of them could possibly have imagined, they couldn't even formulate a response for several heartbeats. Grushak furrowed his brow and forced himself to ask, "When did she leave?"

Mushog blinked and seemed to come back into focus. Meeting Grushak's eyes, he said, "I don't know. An hour. Two. A day. A week. I don't fucking know."

"What've you been doing the last hour or... whatever?" Kurbag asked. He had to force himself to approach; he'd never seen his mate like this. It was disturbing as hell; his instincts told him to get the fuck away.

"Nothin'," Mushog mumbled. "Just... tryin' to walk again."

"What'd she do to you?" Shrah'rar asked in an awed whisper. Mushog didn't answer. He didn't look like he even heard the question.

Across the camp, Leni and Maevyn sat huddled together. Ever since the woman made her comment about Elves, Leni had been wary. Now she was seeing one of the more thoroughly vile of the Orcs completely done for. While the Elf girl had plenty of reasons to feel satisfaction for his apparent comeuppance, and Maevyn too harbored vengeful thoughts with regards to Mushog in particular, it was terrifying to imagine what the woman might have done to put him in his present condition, and then just walk away.

She was out there somewhere, and Leni feared being caught alone if, or when, she returned.

As the Orcs stared at Mushog and exchanged worried glances among themselves, a distant crack like an ice floe breaking on a winterbound lake echoed from some distance away. The Orcs' ears pricked; it was summer.

"What the fuck was that?" Rukshash hissed. Nobody had an answer.

"Oi, Mushog," Kurbag urged, squatting in front of the Uruk. "What happened out there, eh?"

Mushog slowly raised his head and met his friend's eyes, but he didn't say anything. Kurbag retreated from what he saw there.

"Let him be," Bragdagash decided. He didn't like what he was seeing, but if Mushog wasn't going to tell them anything – not even give them a go ahead one way or another about Shannon – what could they do? If she came back, then they'd see what happened. But for now...

It was another hour before the tark returned, a young buck slung over her shoulders. Her back was bowed by the weight of the animal, yet her stride was unhindered. She brought it to the campfire and dumped it.

Arching her back and rolling her shoulders and neck, she let out a huff of air. "Carried that fucker for a mile. You boys wanna dress it? I'm worn out."

"Haven't had good deer in awhile," Rukshash growled, brandishing his skinning knife with relish as he knelt beside the carcass. "Don't see a bow. What'd you kill it with?"

Smirking, Shannon replied, "Kindness."

Rukshash snorted with amusement. "You lads could learn a thing or two from a tark who can bring down a deer without... a bow." He stared at the completely unmarked corpse. There was no sign that it had been struck with any weapon at all. The old Orc slowly turned to look at Shannon.

She smiled. "Look to the head. Speaking of which, where's the jakes?"

Grushak waved her in the appropriate direction, but only had eyes for Rukshash. The Orc had turned the deer's head and was staring at it in bafflement.

Kurbag watched Mushog when Shannon returned, and kept watching until the woman headed off to relieve herself. The Uruk's eyes locked on the tark and followed her, but as far as Kurbag could tell, there was no malice or hate in Mushog's expression. If anything, he looked... afraid.

That would have been enough to get Kurbag nervous, imagining that someone like Mushog could be afraid of a tark woman. What confused the shit out of the half-Uruk was the sudden ratcheting up of Mushog's musk, as if a ripe twat jumped right in front of his face and his dick rose to meet it.

While that was more 'normal' for Mushog, the rest of it was decidedly not.

"What's the matter, Rukshash?" Bragdagash finally asked when the old Orc hadn't said anything for several minutes.

"C'mere and look at this," Rukshash said evenly. "Tell me I ain't gone mad."

The leader hunkered down next to him and had a look. His face went slack. "What the fuck?"

Now all the Orcs crowded around, looking at the pristine, untouched head of the deer. Unmarked, that is, except for a small, thumb-sized hole behind the left eye from which a thin trickle of blood ran into the fur. The hole was perfectly round; no blade they knew of could make such a wound.

Rukshash looked at Bragdagash and said in a low voice, "I don't know what she did. I ain't never seen anything like this." The sheer weight of his statement – that someone who'd seen monkeys and mûmakil had never seen something like this – silenced nearly all of them.

"What the fuck did that?" Grushak hissed.

Shannon had no interest in the jakes and bypassed it completely. She'd noticed the absence of the Elf girl when she returned; getting the Elf alone was something she'd been counting on. Following her sense of smell, long ago honed to pick out Elves, she headed for a little stream not far from camp. She paused when she found the girl vigorously scrubbing her legs, cleaning off Kurbag's leavings of the night before. Shannon grimaced and walked up behind her.

The Elf heard her and whirled around, eyes full of fear. Shannon smiled.

"Im Luke Skywalker; odulen an edraith angin."

Whatever the girl expected, it wasn't that. "You... speak..."

"I've always wanted to say that," Shannon smirked, then added, "Yes I do, but I hate to, so don't get excited about it." The girl slowly stood, watching the dangerously unpredictable woman fearfully. Noting her expression, Shannon nodded approvingly. "Good. Don't get friendly. I hate your kind, and if you were older I wouldn't give a damn about you. Probably kill you where you stand. But you're a kid. So I've got something for you."

The tark pulled a small pouch out of her pocket and handed it to Leni. "You grind these up to get the powder out. Don't get it in your eyes, don't breathe it in, don't taste it. Lethal stuff. Anybody you don't like, sprinkle it on their meat. It'll take about three, four days – very miserable, painful, horrible days – and they'll die."

Leni's eyes widened and she glanced down at the pouch as though it might bite her hand. Looking imploringly into Shannon's eyes, she shook her head. "I cannot do that."

Shannon gave her a stern, almost bizarrely parental glare. "Let me set you straight on something. Freedom isn't free. If it's worth anything to you, you'll kill for it. Or you can just wait them out. I'm sure Orcs die eventually. Can you outlast them? Do you want to? Do you want to stand by and watch another village go down? Do you want to watch them do the same thing to the Brat they're doing to you? Because you didn't think it was worth killing for?"

Looking away, Leni's eyes filled with tears, imagining all this woman said. She stared hard at the bag in her hand. Shannon grabbed her wrist painfully and shook her, forcing the girl to look her in the eyes again. "Don't you dare use it on yourself. Don't leave that kid here alone."

Leni shook her head sharply. Shannon nodded once and started to turn away, then said, "I'd appreciate it if you waited until I left. I don't like surprises. They make me very angry." Again, Leni vigorously shook her head and clutched the pouch to her chest. Shannon nodded once more and strode away.

The tark didn't go far before the very scent she suspected she'd pick up wafted by. Smirking, she diverted her path and walked over to a thick tree. Reaching around the trunk, she grabbed a thin arm and yanked Nazluk out of hiding.

"Failing completely to mind our own business, are we?" she growled.

Recovering himself, the Orc smirked. "I suspected as much. For all your talk, you're still a fucking tark who sides with Elves, eh?"

"Know thine enemy," she replied mildly.

He blinked, startled. "What?"

"Always learn the tongue of your enemy," Shannon said. "Then you'll know them."

He narrowed his eyes and cast a sidelong look at her. "Elves are your enemies?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "I don't like'em. They piss me off. So... perfect. Self-righteous. Like everything they do and say and think is the law and is right. Automatically. Because they're Elves." She shrugged. "And they kill my friends without so much as a by-your-leave."

"And who might your 'friends' be?" Nazluk growled.

"Duh?" she said sarcastically.

Curling his lip in a snarl, he growled, "What did you say to her in that foul tongue?"

"Like that's your business or something."

"I can make her tell me," he suggested, fingering the hilt of a dagger at his hip.

Shannon shrugged with little interest. "I don't fucking care. Do what you like." Turning, she started to walk away then halted. Nazluk licked his lips and grinned. Crawl back and beg me not to hurt your Elf friend, he thought.

Regarding him thoughtfully, she said, "Let me give you a piece of advice, from one cocksucker to another: Set the terms, and defend them."

Nazluk startled and frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you do. Set the terms," she repeated. "You are a pent up, stuck up, stopped up little bitch. You need to relax. You wanna fuck, go fuck. Set the terms."

Left eye twitching a bit, the Orc stared hard at her. He swallowed nervously. Growling low, he hissed, "It is not so easy as that."

She arched her brow. "Not so easy? You miserable little pisspot. I had three shieldbrothers fresh out of Isengard, easily as big as Bragdagash, each one of them. I set the terms, I defended them, and we had no quarrel."

Nazluk blinked. She'd mentioned 'shieldbrothers' in camp, but not a number or anything else about them. Other than that they hunted Elves... "Three?" he asked.

"Uh huh," she nodded. "Absolutely." She held her arms out away from her body. "I'm no bigger than you. There are ways, and there are ways. I'm sure you're clever enough to discover them on your own. Set... the terms. And get your head outta your ass." Nodding sharply once, she headed back to camp.

Nazluk stood there blinking for several minutes, unsure how to process her 'advice.'

Tensions were a bit higher when Shannon returned, but she ignored them. Spotting the smallest Orc sitting on the ground with his back to one of the logs, she smiled and went to sit next to him. He jumped with surprise that she'd come to him out of the blue, and even moreso when she dropped a companionable arm around his shoulders.

"Name?"

"Uh... Grymawk," he replied uncertainly. His gaze flicked around the others, watching with varying degrees of uncertainty and worry.

She gave his shoulders a squeeze. "Hey. I feel bad. You're the only one worth fucking I haven't had yet. What can I do you for, huh?"

Grymawk blinked rapidly and his breath quickened. Darting a look at Bragdagash and the others, he curled his lip at them. "Fuck you. Fuck you all." Then he turned to Shannon. "Suck me off?"

She grinned. "Sure. I'd be happy to do that for you." Pivoting around, she untied the laces of his breeches. Grymawk gasped with surprise as she took him, right there in front of everyone. He slumped against the log and moaned, his eyes rolling back in his head.

Many of the Orcs' reservations were shelved for the time being.

Finishing Grymawk didn't take long. Tucking him back in and lacing him up, Shannon grinned at his satisfied and sleepy look. Then she stood up. Pointing at Hrahragh, she jerked her head at the trees. She didn't even look back as she went inside the copse.

"You going?" Grushak asked warily. Hrahragh shrugged and followed her.

Unlike the last time with her, she didn't seem interested in an endless fuck. That was fine with him; he didn't want to wait on the release either. Obviously aroused by what she did to Grymawk, she shed her clothes quickly and pulled him to her.

"Up against the tree," she breathed, putting her back to it. "Hold me up." Slightly confused, he let her drop his loincloth then found her positioning his arms so they lifted her clear off the ground. With her knees hooked over his arms, she was spread wide open. "Now fuck me. Hard," she commanded fiercely, clutching his shoulders and digging in her nails.

He needed no further urging, and thrust into her deeply. She rested her head back against the tree and sighed. "That's good, Hrahragh. Oh, that's good." His hips rocked as he pounded into her, shaking the tree behind her.

It was a quick one, Hrahragh grunting his completion as he spasmodically thrust a few last times. Panting from the sharp force of her own orgasm, Shannon breathed, "Send in Braggy." He eased her back to earth and nodded.

When Bragdagash entered the copse, she said, "Take off all your clothes this time, Braggy. I'm gonna be all over you like white on rice."

Blinking, he obeyed without asking what the hell rice was. The scent of sex was once again clouding the copse and he forgot entirely about earlier suspicions and strange kill wounds. He started out on top of her, nearly reaching his peak, when she rolled him over unexpectedly. Once she was comfortably riding him, she began to bite and gnaw and claw all over his chest and shoulders and neck. He clutched her ass tightly, wincing and flinching, growling and snarling, as her teeth ravaged his flesh.

All else be damned, Bragdagash knew he'd wear those marks proudly.

Her body shuddered and she moaned deep in her throat as she came, and he found it impossible not to follow suit while her quim rippled and squeezed around his cock in spasms of pleasure.

Then she was off him and wiping herself down. Bragdagash sat up and regarded her.

"You aren't staying, are you?" he asked quietly.

Shannon met his gaze and slowly shook her head. He debated making her stay, but the look in Mushog's eyes... He wasn't sure he'd feel comfortable with her around. Probably best just to let her go her way. But still...

"When're you leaving?"

"I have a bit of... business with Mushog to attend to, then I'm off," she replied.

"What'd you do to him?"

A half smile turned up one side of her mouth. "That's between him and me."

Bragdagash could tell she wasn't going to elaborate. "These, uh... shieldbrothers of yours..."

"Dead," she replied stiffly.

"How long?"

She hesitated for several moments, looking away and furrowing her brow. "Two weeks at most," she finally said with a shrug.

"All Uruk-hai?" he asked, arching his brow. She nodded. "Your... preference, then?" She grinned by way of answer. "Shouldn't let you just walk away," he said as he stood up and began dressing.

"Do you really think you stand a chance of stopping me?" she asked challengingly.

Remembering that strange wound on the deer and what it implied – death without a chance of survival, and no ability to avoid it – he looked into her eyes and swallowed. "No. I don't think I do."

"Wise. That's also why you're the leader." Sighing, she said, "I've enjoyed you guys. Really. Maybe we'll cross paths again some day."

"Yeah," he replied, rather hoping they didn't. "You, uh... want me to send him back?"

"No," she said with a slight smile. "I'll call him."

Mushog hadn't taken his eyes off the campfire, though he wasn't really looking at it, since she disappeared into the copse with Hrahragh. Now that Bragdagash had emerged, he began to shiver with dreadful anticipation.

"Mushog," she said softly.

Hesitating a moment, the Uruk slowly rose to his feet. His breathing irregular, he tried to cobble together some backbone, some dignity, some will... Tension rising, he turned toward the copse and raised his eyes to look at her naked form, waiting patiently for him with a confident smile on her face.

He swallowed hard and dropped his eyes to the ground at her feet. His trembling increased.

All eyes were on him; he could feel them. Wondering what he was going to do. Likely wondering why he wasn't leaping into the bushes at her. Because he wanted to. There was sex waiting for him if he'd just take a step toward it. A really good fuck was coming, if he'd just... give in. Admit she owned him. Come when she called. Like a dog.

He didn't know what she had planned this time. The copse or the clearing? If he didn't come, she might not fuck him again. Or she might do worse than fuck him. And he may not want her to stop.

Gnawing his lip with indecision, he stood there quivering for several moments. He didn't want her to do all that shit to him again, but he did. It was horrible and he hated it and loved it and needed it and wanted it... And now she was going to make him crawl like a bitch to her in front of everyone.

She just stood there waiting, patting her thigh slowly in a steady rhythm. Calling him to heel.

Letting out a shuddering breath, Mushog bowed his head and walked slowly to the copse. When he reached her, she gently laid her hand on his ass, and he flinched. His breath quickened for a moment and he stopped. She lightly caressed his backside.

As they disappeared into the bushes, the Orcs exchanged shocked looks. None could say they'd ever seen anything like it.

"I'm pleased," Shannon said softly as she undressed him. Noting how he trembled, she gave him a sympathetic look. "No need for worry, Mushog. You've been a good boy. Time for your present."

"What... what do you want me to do?"

"I'll let you be on top," she said, making sure he knew where he still stood with her. "But the game is still the same. Make me come."

He nodded, and obediently sank to his knees. She sat down in front of him, spreading her legs, and leaned back. He advanced slowly and, grabbing himself with a shaking hand, positioned his cock at her entrance and thrust into her.

Her brutal lessons paid off handsomely as he drove her to a shuddering orgasm. Yet even with her gasping and moaning in his ear, biting his flesh and clawing his ass, he knew better than to come. It hurt not to, but if he didn't wait for permission...

"Okay," she said breathlessly, "you can come now."

With grateful relief, he let go.

Mushog sensed something different in her movements as she dressed in the copse. For the first time since she arrived, she secured her belt about her waist, the dirk at her hip. Then she shouldered her pack.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" he asked cautiously. He was sitting with his arms resting on his drawn-up knees. His clothes still lay in a heap on the ground.

She looked down at him. "Yeah."

"For good?"

She nodded, then smiled a little. "Maybe we'll see each other again."

He bowed his head for a moment. "Take me with you?" he asked quietly. Looking up, he swallowed. "I could... I could be your shieldbrother."

Shannon slowly shook her head. "You will never be my shieldbrother. That is a position you earn."

Frowning with a spark of indignation, he growled, "What about those three you were fucking?"

"You think I was fucking them from day one?" she asked incredulously. "Huh-uh. That didn't come till much later. And as I recall, it was my idea. No. We looked out for each other. We fought for each other. We would all die for each other." Arching her brow, she fixed him with an intense glare. "Are you willing to die for me, Mushog?"

He actually had to think about it. Was a fuck worth his life? Even a lot of fucking? Really good fucking? It seemed to be worth his will, but his life?

It pained him to have to shake his head.

"That's what I thought," she smirked. "I don't need a fuck toy. I'll do just fine on my own. There's plenty of dick out there; I won't suffer." Leaning over, she caressed his face and whispered in his ear, "Thanks for thinking of me, though." Then she turned around and walked away, disappearing into the trees within moments.

Mushog sat naked on the ground, wondering what the fuck hit him, knowing it would never hit him again, and already mourning the loss.

Translation:

Im Luke Skywalker; odulen an edraith angin. = I'm Luke Skywalker; I'm here to rescue you.

Courtesy of the Merin Essi ar Quenteli, AKA realelvish dot net community. Thanks, guys!