Thanks for the positive reviews - lizzayaml, Musey-Potato, PaleAngel90, Zyenna!

Musey-Potato - I thought so to. Azog has a hidden depth and a quality about him that makes him a character that writers should spend more time writing about.

PaleAngel90 - I'm glad that you are enjoying the story. I hope that the quick update helps a little!

Zyenna - You cannot change your partner - relationships don't work like that. However that doesn't mean that they don't learn to get along. People in relationships learn to bend and sway with each other. I'm glad that you are enjoying the story!

CHAPTER SIX

Azog stepped out into the sun cautiously, somehow still expecting the sun to burn his blood. No burn came, and after a full minute in the sun, he smiled, blue eyes looking up at its bright filled light. Moonflower watched her Master in amusement. A boyish glee transformed his hard face into something softer, a look that had been only visible in private, hidden deep within the cave's temple, and never so freely given.

The giant orc, feared by all who came into contract with him, who became the shadow in the darkest of nights to many races, who'd been born different from his own race, using his might to build a tribal community with the orc race, felt lighter than he'd ever felt before. His eyes fell upon his mate appeared to be half buried in the furs and half hidden in the tall grass and sweet smelling wild flowers. Carefully, the Defiler settled beside the tiny hobbit, curling around him, but still allowing for as much of the sun to caress the creamy skin, and watched his mate sleep.

Bilbo woke slowly, enjoying the sweet scent of wild flowers on the wind. The sun felt warm on his skin, with long grass tickling his face. He felt better, no longer dull and graying from life as he shifted, his toes curling into the soft warg fur. His mind felt better but he was confused, he couldn't remember how he'd gotten outside. The last few days were murky at best.

"How are you feeling little one?" came a rumbling voice above him.

"Hmm," he hummed, shifting onto his back, eyes blinking to look at the pale orc who seemed to sit in the sun comfortably. "Can you sit in the sun?"

Azog smiled at his mate. "I appear to be sitting in the sun," he teased.

The teasing tone made Bilbo blush for some reason, making him ducking his head.

"I was given a gift."

Bilbo frowned, rolling over to look at the Defiler, elbows bent, and hands resting on his plumper cheeks. "A gift?"

Azog nodded, "the sun no longer burns me."

"How is that possible?"

"Once, a long time ago, there was a race of dark elves, who were mighty warriors and shared the same respect that the High Elves of Riverdale, or the Tree Elves of the Greenwood. They rode dragons and lived in the mountains."

Bilbo frowned, "I've never heard of them."

Azog smiled down at his mate sadly. "They were lured away from the sun with promises of knowledge and magic." The Defiler paused, looking away to look at the landscape around them.

Bilbo remained silent sensing the grief within the large creature. He'd never really considered that orcs felt sadness. Really, he'd never considered that they had legends that weren't violence and bloody. He'd never imagined a group of orcs coming together long enough to share knowledge and stories. It was a jarring realisation, especially for a Hobbit that considered himself well read and educated. He loved and was interested in all races, even if he hadn't been brave enough to travel until now.

"They were prideful and arrogant. There was no race capable of defeating them, but they had little want to rule. They were changed by this necromancer, perverted. The dark magic made them slaves."

Bilbo shifted, eyes fixed on the massive warrior. His mind raced trying to understand what was being said. He knew it was important to the Defiler. And then he understood. "The orcs were once elves."

"Yes."

"How is it possible for you to know this?"

"The hot springs were once sacred lands to the Dark Elves, and the dark magic that flows through us is lessened. Inside is a tomb of a woman. I don't know who she is but I know she is important to my people."

There was a silence for long moments after that Azog feeling uncomfortable, yet like a burden had been lifted from him. Sharing with his mate was like lightening a heavy burden he'd been aware of. However, he was unaccustomed to sharing information, especially a controversial idea about his people's origins.

"Why would you tell me this?" asked the Hobbit carefully, as he sat up, pulling the furs to cover himself securely.

"It is important for you to know… for you to understand," replied the orc cryptically.

"Why?"

Azog frowned in frustration. "We have discussed this already."

Bilbo rubbed his forehead with his finger, running to relieve the frustration he felt. He'd nearly died, been captured, taken care of and fed. Besides some discomfort and a little bad luck, the Pale orc had been ridiculously kind and caring.

"Will I be met with violence for asking again?" he posited carefully.

The orc flinched, not liking that his mate would fear violence from him. A little voice told him that he shouldn't be surprised, he was a dangerous orc, natural enemy to all other races, and his mate did not understand the importance of the Hobbit to him. No wonder his mate was confused and hostile.

"No."

"You would be more believable or even understandable if you'd said yes," retorted the green eyed hobbit, one hand running across the warg fur in annoyance.

"Would you prefer I be like my brethren little Hobbit. That I beat you and cut you. That I tie you up and feed you rotten flesh," he growled violently, prosthetic arm waving before the Hobbits now wide eyes. "Would you prefer that I force you down, while crying out for mercy, for your death and I defile you little Hobbit? You would not last the night before you begged for death, and you'd not get it. Others would take you once I'd finished using you, once you could no longer fight back. And then they'd descend upon you, raping your body long after your death."

Bilbo trembled, a cold chill falling onto his bare skin, instantly reminding him of his nudity, or the fact that he was alone, unarmed and in the presence of the most dangerous, most feared orc in the lands.

"You would prefer to live in fear of me little Hobbit?" asked the pale orc, scenting the fear in the air, with a gentle voice. "I will never let you go Bilbo Baggins. That option will never be available to you, but you can live a life with some comfort and certain safety. While I have life, you will always be provided for and always able to be in the sun."

Bilbo felt a tear escape his eye, travelling down his cheek but he did not wipe it away. His gaze leveled onto the pale blue eyes of the orc. "And what is the price for this, Orc Lord? What must I give for these comforts?"

Azog sucked in a breath. The creature before him seemed to harden and accept all at the same time. He wasn't sure what this would mean going forward, but he hoped to win his mates affections. "The price is acceptance and companionship."

"Can I refuse you?" but the unspoken question was heard, 'will you rape me?'

"Sleep with my furs, but I shall not harm you, regardless of my … interests."

"My clothes?"

"If it makes you more comfortable."

Bilbo signed, at the very least glad that he'd have some sort of protection from the Defilers eyes. "Thank you."

The orc stood now, towering over the sitting Hobbit. "I shall hunt for our meal tonight. My warg will stay to protect you. If something happens, ride her, she will comes to me."

Bilbo looked at the dozing beast. She was easily two feet taller than him at the head.

"When you are not with me, she will be until you have chosen your own mount."

"May I forge?"

"For what?" questioned the orc confused.

"Berries, vegetables…. Hobbits cannot survive on meat alone."

The pale orcs eyes looked about critically, unconsciously scenting the air for danger. After a moment he nodded, "Very well. Moonflower will follow."

The Hobbit nodded, eyes distractedly looking for clothes to wear. He found none and by the time he looked to ask where they were, the massive orc seemed to have vanished. The white warg only watched him with seeming disinterest. He didn't really want to be alone with the massive warg, especially when he was naked, as if clothing would save him from being eaten alive. Yet the small comfort of clothes would have been appreciated. At the very least, he didn't want his dangly bits hanging out in the breeze. His eyes found some larger scrapes of cloth beside him, slightly damp, near a freshly woven basket that appeared to be damp. He frowned, noticing the way the cloth had been wrapped into a neat square.

Bilbo shook his head, standing up. It wasn't worth the headache. He would never know, and clearly Azog would not be willing to share any information.

The pale warg stood up, mirroring his actions and he paused. "You're not going to eat me right?" He wagged his finger at the massive creature and then felt incredibly foolish.

The large warg seemed to huff at him before sitting again.

"Now I feel foolish…" he snorted, taking the cloth and grass bowl, eyes looking for a beginning direction to go foraging. He knew there was a river nearby, having walked by it on his way hear but he'd passed out before reaching here so he had no idea which direction it was in. He looked at the warg suspiciously.

"Can you lead me to the river?"

The warg huffed again, standing up and moving towards the edge of the clearing. At the edge, the warg turned back huffing at him, looking at him with exasperation.

"Get yourself together Bilbo," he huffed to himself quietly as he followed the pale warg. "If it was going to eat me, she'd have done it already."

Feeling only a little self-conscious, Bilbo followed the Defilers pet and kept his eyes on scanning the surrounding foliage for early seasonal growth.

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