InsaneJournal

Who: Khamul and Flemeth.
What: Midnight encounters.
When: The wee small hours of Monday morning.
Where: Alleys and backstreets.
Rating: R.
Trigger Warnings: Murder, stabbing, public unfing.
Status: Complete!



Khamul liked it when it was dark, so he was often out at night. Walking the streets, blending in with the shadows so when someone looked it was as though he wasn’t there at all. Sometimes he just walked. Other times he looked for trouble

Tonight, he was looking for trouble. The sword was thirsty and it’s voice rang in his head. Ever since the bar fight, it had rang in his head. He never should have let it feast. He leaned against a wall, watching a woman cross the street. A man was following her.

Flemeth drew her cloak a little closer to herself, a knife in its folds. She was aware of the man that was following her, and was leading him toward an alley. She wanted to address it. Walking a little faster, the hood of her cloak fell off her head, revealing her long, wavy blonde hair.

Hot. Older. But hot. Khamul watched the man move more quickly, and sank back more into the shadows. He didn’t want to be noticed until he had his sword in the man’s throat. He let the temperature around him and in the alleyway drop. He looked into Flemeth’s eyes as she passed.

Seeing the other man appear, Flemeth’s heart sank. Great. A good samaritan. Just what she didn’t need. She winked at him, raising a finger to her lips and walking more swiftly into the alley.

He raised an eyebrow, then grinned. The other man didn't even notice him as he swept into the alleyway. He decided to watch and see what the woman would do. The cursed sword could wait.

When the man reached out to take Flemeth into a choke hold, Flemeth sunk the knife into his stomach. She twisted it as she turned, reaching to pull it out. When it sank into the man’s neck, she pushed it farther, farther still, eyes narrowed. She hadn’t started to breathe faster, she wasn’t alarmed or upset. Just another day at the office.

Khamul held his sword under his armpit and clapped. He seemed to appear, shadows retreating from his feet as though pushed away like puffs of clouds. His teeth were too white in the darkness, and where he stepped mist followed. “Crude, but effective.”

Flemeth smiled, wiping the blade off on the man’s jacket. “That’s not the first time I’ve heard that.”

The sword shifted to Khamul’s hand, and he nudged the man with it, trailing it along the wound in his neck. It was as though the blood drained into the reinforced tooth. It seemed to pulse with fel energy.

“Something tells me he won’t be missed.”

“That’s ... “ Flemeth blinked, her jaw dropping a touch. “That’s gorgeous. May I touch it?” She walked closer to the pretty young man, smirking lopsidedly.

“Carefully,” He cautioned, though he was talking to the sword, and not to her. His grip tightened. “He respects strength, and doesn’t really care who wields him as long as he gets what he wants.” There was always the danger it could turn on him, and draw in a new host.

“What’s his name?” Flemeth reached out for the hilt, stroking the flat of the blade with her palm. “God, if it was a person, I’d marry it.”

“He’s old. I don’t know his name. Don’t think he even knows his name.” Khamul rolled his eyes. “All he wants is to drink.” Whole armies laid to waste, by one woman with this sword. He’d coveted it, but he’d coveted that woman more. In the end he’d lost both.

“That makes two of us then.” Flemeth pressed her lips to the flat of the blade, looking up at the young man. “We should walk.” No sense in getting pinched by the cops.

Khamul slid the sword against his belt, and it seemed to flare a moment, before it disappeared completely. hammerspaceShadows made for easy storage. “Lead the way.” He addressed her as an equal.

Picking up her skirts she navigated through the alley, walking quickly to another street and guiding him away from the scene. “So. Were you sent to end me too?”

“End you? Is that what that man wanted?” Khamul laughed, his teeth flashing. “God no. I was just looking for something fun to do.” This was already qualifying.

“Oh, yes. Didn’t you know? Most people in this town want me dead or want me to help them.” She winked at him, liking his smile. “Am I something fun, young man?”

“Yeah. And most people in this town are either fools or fuckers. Or both.” He shrugged a shoulder, not really giving any fucks. He did what he want!

“What are you, then?” She raised an eyebrow. She liked his cocky attitude.

“A bodyguard.” Khamul’s laugh echoed on the empty streets. He knew that wasn’t what she asked. “Not human. Not any more. Never again.”

“Not human? What are you, then?” Flemeth dreamed she wasn’t human too, but she didn’t know if he dreamed too.

“Nazgul. I was once a warlord, a king of men. The entirety of the far East came under my sway.” He smiled grimly, the air briefly growing chill. Normal people felt fear run down their spines. “Never accept jewellry from a dark lord.”

“Oh, I never accept jewelry from men period. It’s just them trying to own you.” She winked at him, ignoring the chill. “Well, you’re handsome. If I had to be subjugated, I’d want it at least to be by someone pretty.”

Well. Sauron had been pretty, for a man. Khamul shrugged his shoulder. “The owner of that sword, controlled other parts of the east. We clashed, on the battlefield, and in the bedroom.” He smirked.

“Aww, damn, here I was hoping you’d flirt with me.” Flemeth pouted, grinning to herself.

He falshed his teeth at her. “I don’t mind someone who can clash on the battlefield with me. Or the bedroom.”

“I’m sure you’d win at the first, but I’ve slept with boys as pretty as you before.” Smirking, she beeped his nose, looking entirely impish.

She’d just beeped the nose of the Shadow of the East, lord of Dul Guldur, Sauron’s Lieutenant, Second of the Nine, and the assailant of Lothlorien. Khamul grinned wider. “Not pretier?”

“No, not prettier.” She winked at him. “Why, do you want to see if you can ruin me for the rest?”

“I already know I can ruin you for the rest,” Khamul replied, confidently. “Who else has a sword that drinks blood?”

“Point. But is the sword going to please me? Entertain me? I think not.” She tossed her hair and walked past him.

Tendrils wrapped around her leg, and slid up towards her waist. They were like smokey shadow. “I can do a lot more than a sword.”

“Such as detain me.” She stopped, looking over her shoulder at him.

“You did say something about subjagation,” Khamul replied, his eyes flashing as more shadows moved to capture Flemeth’s other limbs. “A beautiful woman like you ought to know a few things you can teach me.”

She smirked at him, eyes challenging him. “Oh, I don’t know. Somehow, some young men have their eyes shut and can’t learn anything.”

He looked her over, then shrugged out of his coat as he walked towards her. It thunked to the ground, heavily. “Okay. Teach me.”

Flemeth was a smart woman. Whenever blessings crossed your doorstep, you didn’t cross them. Reaching out, she tugged him closer, pulling him to her lips and pushing him into the darkness of a nearby alleyway.

They appeared in the alleyway quicker than they had any right to. Khamul returned the kiss with hungry need, and his hands stroked up her back.

She hadn’t been expecting this when she went out for her evening walk. Neither the murder nor the handsome young man with the shadows in his eyes. Who kissed well. Whimpering, she tugged his shirt open, smiling against his mouth.

Khamul was clean shaven, as smooth as he was pretty. He worked his hands into her robe, as shadows closed in around them. The world shifted, altered. Blacks becoming whites and whites becoming blacks. His kiss grew hungrier.

What he’d done, she didn’t know. But she also didn’t care. She kissed him harder, breaking it only to nip at his lower lip, teeth sawing the skin gently. “If you stab me before you get to finish, so much more the fool are you.”

He groaned. “The only stabbing I’m doing will be mutually beneficial.” He didn’t even know her name, and he didn’t really care. It had been months since he’d gotten any. He was going to tell GInny to find someone else with more patience. Right now, though, he had a dragon to stab.

Biting his neck gently, Flemeth tugged his hair, pushing his head down. “Good boy. Hup to.”

With a grin, Khamul bit at Flemeth’s chest. He wasn’t gentle, but he wasn’t cruel or abusive either. Rough, with an asterix.

Purring loudly, Flemeth moved his hands so he could unzip her dress a bit, move it to his manipulation. “What do you need me for, you’re doing well enough with your own knowledge.”

“A man can always learn new tricks,” he replied, pulling her zipper down, his eyes widening. “....nice.”

“Thank you. Tell me, do you think I’m a dottering old woman?” She tipped his chin up to meet his eyes. If she sensed sympathy, she’d stab him.

“You’re older than me,” he replied, hands pushing her dress down to expose her breasts, the rest of the way. “And a woman. Don’t know what dottering even means. And if you’re old, you’re well preserved.”

“I’m well preserved.” She laughed a little at that, simply stripping off her dress.

“I’d say that.” Khamul grinned, looking her over hungrily. “I’ve seen women half my age who look worse than you.”

She smiled, sitting down on a wooden pallet. “Well, thank you. Come. Teach me what you know, then.”

Khamul walked over to the pallet, undoing his pants before kneeling in front of her. He stroked his hands down her chest, and along her inner thighs, grinning.

Grinning, Flemeth hooked a leg over his shoulder. “Are you showing off, sweet boy?” She could show off too. Running her fingers over his cheekbones, she leaned in to kiss him again.

Flexible. He noted that before the kiss started to register. "I haven't even started showing off yet, woman."

“Then what are you waiting for?” She smiled lopsidedly.

Khamul gave her that white grin again, as he pushed her legs apart. “I’ve always liked surprises.”