My Elven warlord can't be this cute!

Tiffania Westwood needed a familiar, she just didn't know it yet. Who is a better familiar for an innocent elf maiden than a King of Elves? The Witch King, of course! To Malekith at least the trees didn't have eyes and no Chaos Daemons were in sight.

A.N: I'm still basing this off The Total War Warhammer lore rather than the End Times with some other stuff mixed in, but don't worry! Malekith remains the complex (odepius) villain we love him for. Also, some End Time spoilers! Also, the Asur have homosexual tendencies!

Warnings: Malekith and the Druchii is his own warning.

Disclaimer: Don't own shit except the belief that Malekith is entitled to tendies and Mommy's milkies!

Pairings- Malekith IS the King of Witches and a momma's boy to the boot!

Prologue-Is this a cosmic joke?!

Ulthuan burned.

Black Arks swarmed the Sea of Dreams, gliding like clouds over the once azure sea that now ran red with the blood of the Elven race, while Black Dragons clouded the skies alongside swarms of harpies, that harried the last remaining phoenixes on the land. Lohkir Fellheart stood atop of his flagship, the Tower of Blessed Dread. His dark sails blowing in the wind as the Grand Fleet of Naggarond plundered the remains of the once proud Asur ships. The bestial roar of the Amanar could be heard in the distance as it devoured the remains of the wretched undead that had sought to enslave the proud beast. The head of the leaders of these wretches adorned his cabin wall now. However, in the aftermath of the great invasion that had ensued, the Krakenlord was itching for a prince, of course Tyrion and Teclis were already spoken for, but Aislinn was his. The Asur Sea-lord had proclaimed himself to be the champion of Matlann and as any self-respecting corsair Lohkir had a duty to capture the High Elf and use his skin as his new personal standard.

"Sir" an executioner of Har Ganeth, bearing the missive of the royal seal of Malekith bowed before the imposing stature of the Krakenlord and offered him a small scroll of parchment. The Lord of Karond Kar looked at the elf behind his mask of the kraken and the messenger immediately understood the intent and unrolled the parchment. The masked visage of the Witch King looked at the Krakenlord, who immediately bowed to his liege and knelt on one knee to receive the missive. His bodyguards followed suit and all of the throne room of the Tower of Blessed Dread was know kneeling before the astral form of their king.

"Lord Fellheart " The king spoke "Congratulations are in order! You have squashed the fleet of Asur and made them helpless in the further occupation. The Asur will never forget this day and you, Guardian of Karond Kar."

Shivers ran down the reaver's back as this was not a voice of any mortal elf. It was deep and every word it spoke made what little hair he had on his body to stand up in attention and cold sweat marched down his brow. He had done it! After all this time they had succeeded, and the vortex was now theirs to be used in whatever way the king deemed fit. Lohkir knew that the slightest slip of tongue would drive him to mortal peril, but before he was able to answer to the son of Aenarion, the king continued with amusement in his voice.

"Galean Vale is mine and once the final embers of rebellion are smothered. A feast will be had to proclaim my RIGHTFUL ascension to the throne. No more petty wars will hound our kind and once again our empire will span the world and reclaim it from the ignorant men, vicious Orks and the restless undead that claim dominion of our clay." He boldly proclaimed and the Krakenlord had to admit that this sounded promising as reavers would always thrive in the wars that would inevitably follow.

"I hear and obey, your highness" Lokhir answered and even through the projection he could almost taste the satisfaction in Malekith's voice "Of course the Eternity fleet will need to be expanded and reinforced for the increase of slaves to rebuild the realm…"

Malekith laughed and shook his head "You are an insolent one, Lokhir Fellheart" a pit grew in the corsairs stomach as he realized that he might have pushed too far and now would pay dearly for this "However" his clawed gauntlet scratched the golden visor "This is a good day for our people as this farce of a Civil War has ended and what king would I be if I was to deprive a loyal servant his just advancement in my ranks." He spoke, before pulling himself closer, the spectral form of his head coming an inch of Fellheart's face

"Surprise me ,Krakenlord, and you shall have your wish." Having said this the conjured vapour in form of Malekith's head disappeared back into the scroll that turned into ash in front of him. The throne room returned to light and Lokhir Fellheart stood up and after him, the rest of the throne room with the messenger and bodyguards.

The lone executioner tried to leave, but his path was barred by the crossed halberds of Fellhearts private guard.

"I cannot allow you to spread the Witch King's word" Fellheart said and unhooked his blades from his belt.

"I knew that once the king gave me this order, Krakenlord" the executioner answered bitterly and readied his draich.

"Oh?" the reaver lord asked with a raised eyebrow behind his mask. The doomed executioner nodded and removed his mask, showing a scar left from the king of Zhandri's Khopesh. The reaction of the Krakenlord was not to be expected as he sheathed his own blades and clapped, while his laughter reverberated through the hall.

"Dastan Coldeye! As I live and breathe!" the corsair removed his own helmet, before passing it to the nearest bodyguard, while the rest made a circle surrounding the two fighters.

"I was wondering what became of you, but now those brief moments shall pay off as I'll send you to Khaine by mine own two hands!" his red eyes bore into Coldeye's light blue.

"Your head will join your victims on the wall!" Dastan snarled and ran at the other corsair, who already had drawn his blades again and with a mad cackle met his foe.

None would speak of what had transpired there, yet a single command came from the Black Ark of Lokhir Fellheart "Whoever would bring the Krakenlord the head of Aislinn of Asur would receive anything their hearts would desire. Immediately the corsairs of Druchii fleets stopped their revelry of victory against their hated kin, before looking for the corpse of the Sea Lord amidst the sea of other corpses that now floated in the Sea of Dreams and Ulthuan.

From the throne room of the Phoenix King, the Witch King coldly watched through the conjured orbs around him the carnage that was happening in the cities of Asur. In Lothern, Tor Elyr, even in Galean Vale, the capital of Asur the hosts of Druchii could be seen, raiding and pillaging the white cities. For the Witch King it almost seemed like a dream that after all these thousands of years, failed invasions and schemes, this time, the mad scheme of Skaven had been the linchpin that they had needed to take the lands of their cursed foes. Somehow, in an incredible twist of fate and providence of Khaine and Hekharti, the fleets of Lokhir Fellheart had saved Amanar from an undead plot and in turn had won the favour of the Merwyrm in one wish. The Witch King had truly been happy to spy Tyrion's and Teclis' horrified faces when they saw their ancient guardian turn on them. From there it was easy enough to muster his fleets and legions of Black Dragons to finally assault Ulthuan. For months they had fought over the sundered isles and in the end Malekith had proved that he had Aenarion's blood in spades as he had torn down Tyrion down from his Pegasus with Sepharon. The shock of surprise and loss was satisfying enough that an almost permanent grin was etched on Malekith's face since, then his mother informed him of the death of Teclis of the Order of Loremasters. Even now the grin showed no signs of disappearing from the Dark Lord's face.

"Ah, Finubar" the Witch King called to the former Phoenix King, whose golden robes were splattered with blood and viscera. In the once noble king's eyes all fire had been extinguished and there he sat on the floor unmoving, unshaking- with a stream of tears running down his face.

"I must say it really is a shame about your entire family" he mused aloud "But Hellebron truly did the proper appreciation for ones liege after this sacrifice. It is a shame that we didn't find your wife or your daughter" Malekith laughed at the defeated Elf Lord and removed his face plate to drink the finest wine the Asur artisans could offer.

"Both would be a sight to see in my bed, wouldn't you agree?" Malekith swirled the wine in the goblet and narrowed his eyes as Finubar just sat there, still crying. Anger surged in the Witch King that even defeated, the Phoenix King, this shameless cur cried and did little else.

"Bah" the first of the Druchii sneered and splashed his prisoner with wine "It's even a waste to pour wine on you" he snarled with distaste. He hated weakness, when he himself had experienced setbacks and humiliating defeats, yet he had prevailed! Providence or his own force of will, Malekith had survived the mind-flaying realms of Chaos and had prevailed, for Khaine's sake!

So the King of Dark Elves sat there and watched as his troops stamped out the last strongholds of resistance and when finally the flags of Naggarond flew from the 'unbreakable' Griffin Gate, Malekith summoned his Black Council to the shrine of Asuryan where he could be at last crowned the king of all Elves as it was rightfully his duty.

It was an hour before midnight that the Black Council had gathered in the Shrine whilst under the watchful eye of Eldire Darkblade a banquet in light of Malekith's coronation was to be held in the palace. The tattered banners of Dreadlords who had survived the invasion by might or guile surrounded the shrine with Black Guard of Naggarond that made sure no unwelcome guest was to interrupt them. The nobles waited in the cold sea wind of Ulthuan, beneath the vortex as it swirled like before the mighty roar of Seraphon drew the attention of the gathered. The mighty Black Dragon landed in front of the shrine and from him descended Morathi and Malekith himself.

To the surprise to the gathered Morathi had shed her witches garments and adorned herself in the dress that she had worn in Aenarions rule, jewels and gold shimmered in the moonlight that shone through the vortex, if the dreadlord had been recently appointed or hadn't heard of the sorceress, they would have thought this enchanting woman to be the Witch Kings intended and if rumors were to be listened to, it was not far from the truth.

In an uncharacteristic display Malekith first descended from the saddle, before offering his mother a hand. Morathi descended gently and hooked her arm into Malekith's elbow as she escorted him deeper into the shrine, a gentle smile could be seen on her face as she walked past, yet all who had seen this would ever refuse to breathe a word to this. The dreadlords tried to follow their king and his mother, but their way was crossed by the barbed halberds of the Black Guard.

"What is the meaning of this?!" one of the younger dreadlords raised his voice. The line of black armoured guards parted before them and the imposing figure of Kouran Darkhand himself, the dreaded sergeant of Malekith slammed the butt of his halberd, the infamous Crimson Death, into the white marble floor, cracking it.

Some of the more vocal dreadlords swiftly slinked into the background leaving the younger dreadlord face to face with the Captain.

"What is your name?" the Dark Hand asked and the dreadlord in front of him stammered

"M-M-Marvirr, sir"

"Marvirr" the Dark hand looked the dreadlord in the eye "His Highness himself forbade the entry into the Shrine for anyone except His Highness and the Great Priestess of Hekharti. Are you either of them? Impersonation of this scale warrants the most serious of punishments…"

"N-No" Marvirr shook his head multiple times, before he collected his wits. Everyone else watched the spectacle with bated breath and some snickering could be heard "I wanted to be sure of his Highness safety once he emerges from the flames with his birthright. It is known that such rituals can be taxing to both body and mind so I wanted to witness the ceremony and help our King in his time of need as any subject would."

Kouran tilted his head and hummed for a moment considering the speech "Good answer. If it was any other day you would lose your head for your insolence." He rumbled and like a ghost vanished behind the lines of the Black guard, leaving Marvirr terrified out of his wits and the rest deciding that today they shouldn't push their luck.

In the back, Lohkir Fellheart cursed softly as the human skin satchel in his hands started to leak blood.

The shrine was itself silent, the Phoenix Kings from ages past looked at Malekith and Morathi as they entered the chamber where the Flame of Asuryan still burned.

"You can stop this pretense now" Malekith rumbled as Morathi still clung to her son's elbow, smile still dancing on her lips. She looked at him with her violet eyes and stroked his arm.

"My son" she sighed with contentment "You cannot imagine how long have we waited for this moment. Imagine! After these thousands of years of war and ruin for our people, you finally achieved victory and wrested the throne from these usurpers at this impassionate speech Malekith let out a snort unbefitting a king with such reputation as he.

"Since Alarielle is eluding your forces and magic it leaves the position of Everqueen vacant" he said, yet to his surprise the smile was still on his mother's face "Though I cannot see you in the role, if you can forgive me"

She beamed at him "Oh it is nothing like that!" Morathi waved her finger coyly at him "I found your trueborn heir, borne from your union with Allisara all those centuries ago"

World came to a halt as his mother had found another chink in his armour, oh how he hated Morathi when she was like this. She may have been his mother, but when she played these games, he wished he could snap her lithe neck and be done with it.

"What is it that you did?!" Malekith turned to his mother and quickly slammed her to the wall, causing Morathi grunt and her elaborately done hair unravel into her wild black tresses.

"He was a brave warrior, yet brainwashed by Teclis to be his personal bodyguard" she wheezed out as Malekith's gauntlet tried to crush her throat.

"I don't believe you" the Witch King's venomous green eyes bore into the sorceress and squeezed "You orchestrated the death of my wife without a second thought" his fingers were already starting to leave bruises that healed, yet he continued to squeeze and yet his mother's gaze remained full of steel and spite.

"She would have ruined you."

"Like I ruined myself?" he asked and Morathi's hands cupped his metal mask. Her eyes softened and Malekith didn't want to lie to himself that she felt pity for him.

"No, my sun" He recalled that she had called his father in that name "Never. These setbacks were just that, setbacks. You will be restored once Asuryan sees that you were always the rightful Lord of Elven people"

"Even after I have pillaged his faithful followers, enslaved, sacked and razed their proud cities?" yet the grip now lessened and Morathi caressed the golden face, twisted into a gruesome leer.

"Yes, for you have changed. Hardship has forged you into the deadliest sword in the world and the greatest shield of our kin. Asuryan WILL NOT refuse you!" Morathi's eyes now were ablaze with fervor and the sorceress seemed to have forgotten the grip her son held on her throat as she sought to wrap her arms around him.

"If Asuryan won't take me-" Malekith released her throat, allowing Morathi to bring her arms around him "Don't say that!" she slapped the helmet with considerable force, yet the Witch King remained undeterred.

"If Asuryan won't take me, Kouran will have my last orders" the Witch King pulled her off him and walked into the ritual chamber, with Morathis silently following suit. Conjuring a magical portal, Malekith willed from it a crystal vase crafted by the most skilled sorceresses. It was brimming with glowing pink elixir, bound by five peculiar souls to master the vortex and its power, yet the Witch King had decided against this foolhardy ritual in favor of preparing his body to face the flames of Asuryan for the final time and prove to all of the world that he had been the rightful heir all along!

In the chamber two virginal maidens clad only in the lightest, almost transparent dresses awaited him, hand-picked by his own design in the ritual that would follow. There was no need for virgin blood, but Malekith appreciated the symbolism. He handed his mother the vase and spread his arms.

They first removed his helm, carefully setting it down on the floor, then their nimble fingers removed the cape, gauntlets, breastplate and lastly, the leggings, after that of course came the under-armor and the rest of his clothing. The maidens did their job with silent efficiency and no hesitation as they had done the same motions countless times. Yet they were unsullied. Then they brought out two small bowls with perfume and ointment that ailed the balms of his ravaged flesh.

The Witch King was covered in scars. From blades, claws, arrows, yet the worst burns that covered his entire body were the oldest, the very same he had suffered the very first time he had sought the approval of Asuryan. Yet despite these scars and burns, the figure of Malekith was a subject of both desire and awe as no muscle in his body was left untrained by hardship and adversity to make him the legendary sorcerer and warrior that he was today. Despite the burns his face still retained some semblance of the charm he had inherited from his parents. There was no revulsion in the service of their King.

The oils and perfume covered every inch of his body. No nook or cranny of his body was left untouched by the perfume and oil, administered by soft and dainty hands. Despite their sensual touches, the true Phoenix King felt nothing, but searing anxiety before the flames. Standing in the shadows Morathi watched and summoned her staff of Khairadon, which she held in one hand, while in other she maintained a careful grip on the vase, not allowing a single drop to spill.

"Mother" Malekith turned to her in his naked form "Hand me the elixir" he asked, some measure of gentleness in his voice. He seemed not to mind the staff of magic in her hand as she passed him the vase. Clasping the vessel with both hands he raised to his lips and drank in the liquid. The potion seemed to burn his throat and blind his eyes, yet his body didn't allow collapse. Instead his green eyes glowed bright, before dimming once more and returning to his natural state. In a second the elixir had done its work and Malekith felt no change. If the ritual failed, Fellicion's soul would entertain the daemons of Slaneesh for eternity. He put the vase on the ground and approached Morathi.

"IF-" he started to say, but stopped "IF…" he continued "If I don't return" he said standing there before her "This is what I want you to know"

Then he pulled her close and planted a chaste kiss on her forehead.

To other Druchii this would have seemed like a meaningless gesture, yet in that moment Morathi realized that it had meant more than the Witch King of Naggarond, the son of Aenarion-, no just Malekith, could ever say with words.

Yet she couldn't say these words back.

The King of Druchii let go of his mother, spared his mother one last look and walked away from her, just like Aenarion had and stepped into the flames. In that same moment screams echoed across the chamber and those weren't the screams of the Witch King.

Malekith screamed as the flames burned through all magic protection and slung him back. Yet it was not his flesh that suffered the most. His mind, his spirit, his very own black soul was laid bare before the living fire that was Asuryan. In his mind he relived thousands of years in an instant. His own betrayal, the heresy, arrogance and how he had mistakenly sought the flames for the first time. Yet for the short moment Malekith had considered warping to the Realm of Chaos, but the Witch King wouldn't run.

Last time had he not done so, not flames would have killed him but the arrogant Asur, this time it was of his own will and of his own will Malekith would perish or rise as the Lord of All Elves. As memories flashed before his own eyes, he saw the first time he went into the flames, his own uncertainty, his guilt and shame for betraying his former friend and allowing the corruption to foster. The moment he entered the flames that day, it was clear that he was not worthy as he himself had recognized it. This realization was more crushing than all of the suffering he had experienced afterwards. It was by his own hand that he had wrought the misery upon the elven race and sundered the once mighty people. In the end, he still wasn't worthy. Multicoloured flames swallowed him and a strange peace dawned upon him. Was it the realization that he had failed all along and the needless carnage had just fostered hatred in him and split them into irreconcilable parts that let him surrender to the flames? Was it the thought that his own son who had perished in the invasion of Ultuan was for naught? With his body almost completely swallowed by flames, Malekith didn't feel pain or cold, just air as from scarred muscle and bones he started to turn into dust. Yet a nagging thought ate at him. Why should he surrender? After all even with all the evil he had done, his duty was to repair it, to make it whole again. Without him the dreadlords would squabble under his mother's leadership…Mother! Malekith's thoughts turned to Morathi, who would go mad with grief as she had done with his fathers passing and the Witch King knew that the sorceress wouldn't survive another loss of this magnitude.

No! He wouldn't surrender, his people needed him! Morathi needed him!

The flames receded in a lightning quick pace and immediately the whole world went dark. Malekith was floating around in the void with his body fully restored. Did it work? The Dark Elf thought, but then it was as if an invisible force had yanked him and the Druchii was sent careening through the space, before he stopped before a giant blinding flame of all the colours of the rainbow.

"HOW ARROGANT OF YOU, CHILD OF HEKHARTI AND AKHARTI" it smoldered and Malekith then knew that Asuryan himself had deigned to appear before him, or rather he before Asuryan.

"TO THINK YOU DESERVE SOMETHING BECAUSE YOU HAVE SUFFERED AND FOUGHT FOR IT. YOU WHO HAVE SUNDERED YOUR ENTIRE RACE DUE TO A SLIGHTED PRIDE?! WHY SHOULD YOU RETURN? TO CAUSE EVEN MORE SUFFERING TO YOUR KINDRED?" As these accusations swelled, Malekith had finally recovered enough of his voice to speak.

"No!" He cried out to Asuryan "I have caused my people enough pain already! If they must survive then they must be made whole. Without me, my mother will rule, and she won't live through grief a second time! Neither will the Elves!" In the state of floating void Malekith had shifted himself on his knees.

The flame merely burned for what seemed an eternity, before it grew again, now twice the size of Malekith.

"YOU? A MERE SCRAPS OF THE SOUL OF AENARION AND THE REMAINS OF HEKHARTI AND ANKHARTI'S DIVINITY?!" Asuryan thundered and the world stopped for Malekith. What did it mean? The Witch King couldn't comprehend of what had been spoken, but no longer could he speak because Asuryan continued his smoldering as sparks jumped from the fire of various colours.

"PROVE IT TO ME, YOU SCAB OF CREATION, THAT YOUR WRETCHED THING YOU CALL A SOUL IS INDEED CAPABLE OF WHAT YOU SPEAK! THEN YOU WILL RECEIVE YOUR WISH!"

Malekith could speak again, but was he Malekith? Before he could ask anything more the flame grew and grew, before it had consumed everything in his sight. Last thing the Witch King of Naggarond saw was blinding light and a young girl's voice screaming.

At the same moment the flame of Asuryan went out in the Shrine. Leaving no trace of the Witch King, but the gentle smell of perfumed and enchanted oil.

Morathi collapsed in grief, tears, since the first time of forever threatening to swell from her eyes. Yet a small ember flickered in the air, before landing where the first tear would have dropped. A smile returned to the sorceress's lips despite the terror of the maidens, who had seen their lord seemingly die.

"Don't worry" Morathi said to the girls as she brushed her eyes and ruined her makeup "my sun will return."

The two maidens looked at one another, yet they want to didn't question the de-facto leader of Elves.

"Come along" she called to them "It's not the first time he has demonstrated his spectacular ability to vanish with magic. He will be back."

"And when he will, I won't let him out of my sight!"

On another world with two moons dancing in the night sky, lived an elf. A half-elf exactly, she was blonde of hair and merely 17 years old. To most of her kind it was barely out of infancy, but for humans it was a reasonable age to found a family and start your own life elsewhere. But humans bred like crazy and were violent savages, whose words shouldn't be listened to. In this world, Elves were a cold knowing kind, that valued laws of order so much that they forsake creativity and growth that came with it, but once they had been different, but that had changed with the revolution against decadence as they had called it.

However, this half-elf had been raised by her father and herself, well, mostly herself and knew nothing of Elvish customs and dogmas. Of magic she knew very little, some utility spells to help her through the day and a weak curse of forgetfulness that allowed her a life of peace and quiet.

Her little cottage lied next to large stream, where she would bathe and catch fish, if her mind so desired.

It was unfortunate that this peaceful life had come to an end today.

For you see the human blood she carried in herself was that of the human Duke of Albion, where a rebellion had happened recently and it would have been inconvenient for an heir to appear in addition of the prince Wales.

"Come out you half-demon slag" one of the line class mage muttered as he and his fellow assassins surrounded the cottage. He himself was a fire mage, sent from Romalia in aid of these mercenaries to further his countries interests. The three others were assassins only in the loosest sense. They were hired thugs, drunkards and rapists who could be counted on to do the dirty work. It comforted him that after the mission was over, the three would never leave the forest alive.

"*hic* Yea" a man armed with a sword , dressed in a gambeson agreed "We an bois don't wanna hert yer cute head. Jus talk! Roight lads?"

"Yea we juss wanna have some fun!" the other man with a shield and axe agreed. The third man with a crossbow remained in a safe distance, ready to take action if anything occurred out of ordinary.

They circled the little cottage and the wizard, Jean, decided to wait, nearby in wait for what if their victim wasn't at home right now and they would alarm her to the trouble, so the four fled and hid in the nearby forest. Why he decided on it may have been a hunch, but serving this long in Galian army had made hunches quite useful.

A few miles from the four men, the girl had dwelt deeper into the forest to find plants for a potion of well dreams, for the nightmares lately had been bothering her. Tiffania Westwood, or Tiffy as her mother had called her was fine. Humming a lullaby, she continued to gather her herbs in happy obliviousness. While her little cottage was fine, she missed the other orphans and sister Mathilda. The green haired girl had promised to visit with groceries, but lately she hadn't seen her, so the half-elf learned to cook herself and forage for herbs. The weather was nice, yet there was something in the air. It smelled like a warm stove or a bonfire.

Suddenly there was loud noise ahead of her as if someone had fallen from a tree. Being the curious creature that she was, Tiffania couldn't resist. The sound had been rather loud, but no birds had risen in the sky or any earth was thrown around. She wondered whatever could it be.

Gathering her little basket, she approached the place where she had heard the sound. As she walked into a clearing she saw a naked man lying on the ground. What a strange man, she tought and upon closer inspection it was a rather good-looking weird man, with pale skin, black hair and green eyes. He also had pointy ears!

Wait she also had pointy looking ears! Now thoughts raced through Tiffania's mind at the mysterious naked elf in front of her. Why would he come here, unless he was looking for her! Maybe he was a friend of her mother who had come to take her to elven lands so she wouldn't be alone.

The naked elf rose from the moss floor and was shocked at his nakedness. He stood up and started cursing, before conjuring himself a looking form fitting dark clothes fit for a prince as she recalled from the time she had Papa and Mama still.

"Hey you!" the now clothed strange man called to her. She had been spotted! Tiffania shyly stepped into the clearing.

The stranger muttered something like "Thank Asur" and approached her. He took a good look at her and bowed lightly. She curtsied as she remembered as the ladies in house had done when guests had come.

"Hello" the stranger began "I'm a bit lost" he scratched the back of his head and the half-elf listened attentively.

"Can you give me the nearest directions to an Elven settlement?" he asked and the blonde immediately deflated. So he wasn't sent there to find her…

She shook her head sadly "Sorry, but you're the first Elf I have seen besides Mama in a while." The elf princes face, well she didn't know he was a prince, but looking like that he had to be!

"Im Tiffania, it is nice to meet you!" she said and stretched her hand out in a handshake. The prince looked at her with confusion, before grabbing her hand and kissing the upper part of it. The half elf immediately retracted her hand, blushed and put them on her cheeks to hide her blush.

"I'm Malekith, son of Aenarion the W-, The Wizard" he said, before asking "Seeing your surprise of me being an Elf, It would be safe to assume that these are human lands?"

Tiffania nodded.

"Simply wonderful," Malekith clenched his hands. Tiffania noticed the tings beneath his eyes and the tell-tale signs of tiredness seemed that the wizard had travelled far enough and needed rest.

"Malekith, you seem tired" the girl said with a pensive look on her face "Maybe you would wish to stay the night at my house until tomorrow, before you continue your travels?" she asked, with her blush receding and Malekith seemed to consider the offer.

"Yes, that would be wonderful, but why are you so kind to a complete stranger?" the wizard asked. Tiffania smiled before answering "Well, no Elf has hurt me before"

Malekith nodded and flashed her a light smile "We are much better, you know…" Immediately the smile on the maiden's face returned and she pointed him in a direction.

"My house is that way!" she chirped "When we get there I'll make us some food, but you'll have to tell me of some of your travels, alright?"

"You will not hear me complaining, but wait a moment" the other elf said, before muttering something under his breath. A gust of wind landed in the clearing and Malekith swiftly picked up the girl in both arms let the wind carry them further.

"I cannot believe this" she cheered as he clung to his neck "I didn't know it was possible to do this without a wand. You must be a very strong wizard Malekith!" she praised, and the smile grew larger on his face "Of course I am, after all I was the greatest wizard in all of Naggarond!"

"Where's that?" she asked, but the wizard merely shushed her with a finger and soon they landed near the homely cottage.

"We have arrived" he said. Tiffania jumped out of his arms and hugged him before muttering "thank you" and heading inside.

"Will you come inside Malekith?" she poked her head outside the door, but the wizard rebuked her with a smile and a shake of his head.

"I'll join you in a moment" he placated her and a cheerful "alright" was the only answer he received.

The second the half-elf had vanished inside the house, a bloodthirsty grin appeared on Malekith's face. Ever since the beginning of his 'trial', the Witch King had itched on spilling blood, but parted with the Destroyer, his Spellshield, the Rod of Iron and worse of all Sepharon, there was only spellcraft and the most primitive art of killing left to him.

"Come out you dirty human swines" he magically amplified his voice, allowing it to carry in the forest. He didn't have to wait long. Four apes appeared at the edge of the forest. Three of them looked like the rabble he had seen in the slave pens, though not yet broken, while the last one seemed like he had some semblance of skill or whatever it passed for humans as he was clad in somewhat nondescript uniform, what betrayed was his stance.

"Oi and elf. We'll be famous if we killed ye!" the one with an axe and shield called out, yet a crossbow bolt was launched by the third, who seemed the more lucid of the three serfs.

However, Malekith was tired of this stupid standoff and muttered the incantation of word of pain and poured it in his circumstances and his hatred for humans. Unsurprisingly once the spell had been cast, the humans collapsed, foam frothing at the mouth and spasming in pain. The Witch King of Naggarond called upon Dhar, another thing in this strange world, that was abundant in the area and summoned a light gust of bladewind that carried the unfortunate robbers or whoever they were deep into the forest. Hopefully some beast would find them and rid him of the problem.

Suddenly he smelled food and having been denied his coronation feast the Witch King spared the last look to the forest and entered the small cottage thinking about the strange Asur girl he had met and why did her cooking smell wonderful. Asuryan better keep the end of his deal!

Despite the unlikely circumstances Malekith found himself in, he wasn't the only elf summoned to this strange world by godly will.

"I summoned an elf! I'm a heretic!" a pink haired girl panicked as a beautiful blonde elf woman, who might have been a queen, watched with tired eyes.

At least it was better than suffering Finubars attentions.

A.N: Folks that's my second story about my second campaign with second best boy and first best mom in Warhammer universe. So how did you like it? Leave a comment to let me know and have a good day! High Elves in Warhammer are faggots!

-Spook