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Azof and the Cult of the Scorpion Goddess	By : kspence Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > Het - Male/Female Views: 2995 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-1.
- 2-2.
- 3-3.
- 4-4.
- 5-5.
- 6-6.
- 7-7.
- 8-8.
- 9-9.
- 10-10.
- 11-11.
- 7
- 8
- 9
The deep notes of a ringing temple bell roused them.
Azof woke with his head on Yildiz’s shoulder and one hand still in her lap. He was a little sore and aching in places following their earlier exertions, but still felt - mainly euphoric about what she’d done to him. Really, he’d never in his wildest dreams imagined what doing that – with a girl - could be like –
Moving Yildiz round to face him, he cocked an eyebrow at her in what he dearly hoped would be a winning manner. “Yildiz,” he said, “Yildiz. You wanna do that again?”
“No. We must go,” the young priestess said, regarding him for a fleeting moment with a strange expression, almost of regret. “It is time.”
She took Azof by the hand and led him – quietly, willingly – out of her bower and into the main chamber. A peculiar ground-mist was rising there, strange to think of in the arid desert heat. It smelled of old water and dead places, carrying an odd, evocative and maddening aroma.
Narkul and Rugratz were already in the centre of the open space, bounded by the mist, lined up side by side, shining there –
Azof shook his head, trying to clear a strange hissing sensation from his ears as he hurried towards them, hopping on one leg awkwardly. He’d had time to sling on his singlet and leggings, but could find only one of his shoes.
“Narkul!” he exclaimed in consternation. “Oi, Nark mate, what’c’her think you’re doing stood out ‘ere, eh?” Narkul, however, didn’t reply. Azof elbowed him. Still nothing. Narkul just kept staring into the distance, grinning faintly, smiling and looking out at nothing very much at all. “Narkul!” Azof insisted. “Woss’ wrong?”
Rugratz was just the same. On his feet, smiling, yet completely out of it - it was uncanny! Azof shook him. “Wake up, Rugratz!” he pleaded, having to raise his voice because the hissing, or chittering noise that he was hearing was making it increasingly difficult for him to think. “Rugratz!” he fell back from the other Orc, staring at him and feeling gobsmacked. “How come you – how come you’re glowing in the dark, mate?”
It was true. At first it had been difficult to be certain in the moonlight - but the longer he looked at them, the more clearly Azof could see that his companions two were limned all over – they were painted head to foot - with a steady, blue-white coloured, shining light. The effect was most noticeable on their hands and faces, on the exposed areas of their skin – and although, like Azof, they had at some stage in the evening both removed their armour and partially undressed, their hair and the boots and clothes they still had on them were also faintly-lit.
Azof squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed them, trying to dispel the queer optical effect. It made no difference. When he opened his eyes again he could still see Rugratz and Narkul surrounded by their strangely shining haloes, glowing, if anything more strongly than before.
Out of the rising ground-mist the priestesses of the temple now came marching slowly into the centre of the chamber, walking one behind the other in a line. They took up what seemed to be previously allotted places, one in front of each of the Orcs, and waited, bathed in moonlight, heads flung back and arms outstretched. All three of them were quite naked and they stood silent, bodies shining in the mist and moonlight, too.
“Yildiz!” said Azof, appealing to a familiar face. “What’s all this? What the heck?”
“It is time,” Yildiz said. “Time for you to take your most fortunate, happiest of places!”
“Me what?”
The high priestess, the tallest one, turned to him. “Have your wishes not been satisfied?”
Azof cast about in confusion, unnerved by the way they were all standing, shining there. “Well, I wouldn’t say ‘satisfied’ exactly –“
“For it is our task to prepare the initiates,” the second priestess said. “They feast!”
“Gladly they drink the sacred Mother’s wine,” Yildiz put in.
“Infused with her essence of forgetfulness –“ now the priestesses were speaking in turns, by rote -
“And we satiate and send them.”
“We send them blessed to her bower.”
“Shining to her bower! Joyful! And the Queen of Light receives them!”
“The chosen ones.”
“The fortunates!”
“The shining, blessed three.”
“You see?” Yildiz cried ecstatically, “there is nothing for you to fear!”
“You reckon?” Azof said, taking a quick look over his shoulder, scanning possible exits for a way out.   “And, erm, once you’ve sent these fortunate folk off to your Queen. So – so what’s she got in store for them, then?”
Yildiz met his gaze with a chillingly cheerful expression. “Behold!”
“F-u-c-c-k-k-k!” Azof yelled aloud then, as he saw - let out a high-pitched shriek of terror -
For then from out of the shadows, creeping through the open tunnel-mouth on the far side of the chamber there came crawling a most fearsome and gigantic creature. Half-hidden in the rising fog Azof saw the glossy, segmented carapace – its pair of outsized, wicked pincers, each as long as he was tall; the recurved sting and poison-barb at the end of its tail.
The thing was a giant scorpion – an enormous scorpion that stood taller than a horse.   The breath of its body was three times Azof’s height at least and nearly the same again, taken from front to the back of it.
Azof stood rooted with fear as the creature – moving with awful, unnatural speed – surged across the chamber, scuttling forwards on horrible, many-jointed legs until he was sure he’d be mown down in its onward rush - but it stopped suddenly and reared up on its back sets of feet, champing its jaws and rattling its pincers. It stopped its charge just short of the three priestesses and stood before them, a pale sheen of moonlight glittering on its rows and rows of shining, many-faceted eyes.
The three women turned joyfully to meet it.
“Our Queen has come,” the high priestess cried, her voice pitched high and clear in ecstasy.
“The shining Queen of Light.”
“She has come to welcome her blessed three!”
At that moment the priestesses, waiting with arms upraised to greet their goddess, were standing directly between the scorpion and the Orcs.
“Narkul! Rugratz!” Azof yelled, grabbing them. “Come on!”
He dragged at his companions, but couldn’t make them budge an inch.
Poor Azof didn’t have a chance. As he tried to dodge and run the scorpion leapt up off the ground, clearing the heads of the waiting priestesses with one easy bound. Azof had only a split second to register the impact as it landed – the shock reverberating through the soles of his feet - before it was grasping him with one of its pincers around his shin and ankles and then jerked him backwards, plucking him clean off his feet. The forelimb that had hold of him yanked Azof upwards and carried on its arc of movement unchecked, swinging the struggling Orc into the air with fearful speed. He hung head-downwards for only an instant before the opposite pincer snapped shut with bruising force across his upper body, pinning him by the shoulder, neck and left forearm.
He scrabbled with his free hand at the carapace, breaking his claws and ripping his fingers bloody on the ridged, unyielding surface, but it responded to his frantic, terrified efforts – not at all. The pair of pincers held the young Orc fast and began deftly manoeuvring him, twisting his body painfully as it brought his head and shoulders close, then closer to the gigantic creature’s face. He sobbed and squirmed and shouted as it held him face-down, outstretched, and all the while the scorpion was regarding him intently, looking with an awful, ancient kind of understanding deep into his eyes.
Azof yelled again as a terrible, alien sense of – knowing came upon him; the same terrifying sense of ancient age and, measured against it his own inconsequence that he’d experienced earlier, on first entering the citadel. He tried to close his eyes against weird thoughts of being outside himself that went crashing through his head – but, hopelessly outmatched, could barely bring himself to look away.
So he knew – because the Queen knew – when she had him fast and it was easy; because the foolish ones like him always yielded so very easily -
Then the scorpion’s curved tail lashed down and scored an agonizing furrow across the young Orc’s shoulders. There was scorching pain, but Azof barely felt it. His eyes rolled back in his head and he knew no more.
Pale, thick, beads of venom oozed from the poison-barb tip of the scorpion’s tail, dripping down and splashing straight into the open wound on Azof’s back. On making contact with the Orc’s body the stuff seeped and ran like quicksilver, spreading from its source, till it painted the tail-end of the scorpion – then her back and claws and pincers – with a stain of glowing fluid that burned bright white-blue.
Shining and dreadful in the dark the Queen of Light raised her chosen, blessed fortunate in her claws, and bore Azof out of the sacrificial chamber and further into the maze of tunnels that riddled the mountain.
- 7
- 8
- 9
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Azof and the Cult of the Scorpion Goddess