He was not always her heart. Once he was little more than another shiny object to her eyes, a beautiful means to her mother's ends...

THE MORNING AFTER THE BETRAYAL OF LOGHAIN

The one she wanted lay on the bed before her... the sire of the 'old one'. He was so beautiful, so powerful, so quick, agile, with such remarkable endurance and such stamina, and here he was, all but naked before her... in her own bed; a portent of the inevitable union between their bodies if ever there was one. She was enraptured by him. She turned and looked to the window. The hysterically sobbing former Templar would be being consoled by mother for a while. she strode to her bed and climbed in beside him

He sighed as she moved closer to him.

"Fear not, my pretty pony" she whispered, "we will play at this sweet mischief for so long together,... I just want to feel it once before you do. I just want to make sure you're UP to the task... at hand - so to speak." She stared at his sleeping face, and smiled. She touched his lips, traced their shape, felt their fullness with her fingertips. She leaned in closer, propped her head up on her palm, it propped up on her elbow. She kissed him softly: her full, soft lips closed over his and sucked gently before her tongue slid along the same path as her fingertips. She moaned at the sensation as she slid her tongue back in her mouth, closed her eyes and smiled, savouring the taste of his lips, "Mmmm, you'll do in that regard."

He moaned as she resumed her gentle exploration of his prone form.

Her fingers next trailed down his chin, his neck, over his collarbone and out to his broad, well muscled shoulders. She closed her lips over his chin as she fanned her fingers across his broad, thickly muscled chest.

He moaned once more as she kissed his nipples in turn, and swept the blanket from his hard, chiseled, narrow abdomen, and well muscled hips.

She gasped in happy astonishment at the well toned masonry of his naked torso and trailed her fingertips down from the center of his chest, to his navel.

Her thighs rubbed together anxiously as her sex grew warm and moist from the freedom she had of his exquisite body. her palm descended lower, over his muscled thighs, and then between them. she smiled as her hand slid unhindered over his undergarment, and found his manhood had reached it's fully erect form from her caresses; she gasped and grinned wide as she played her fingers over its ample girth and fullness. He would be a good breeder for a god.

He gasped, his hips rising reflexively off the bed as she touched him there.

She smiled wide, her free hand slid over her own thighs, lightly stroked her fingers over her own undergarments, just above her warm, wet nether lips as she became more ardent. She closed her eyes as she caressed his manhood and imagined it breaching her willing vaginal lips. Men were such easy prey.

He moaned gently, and slowly stirred.

She smiled, and covered his body with the blanket; she hurriedly took up a jar, and calmly put it on a shelf.

He awoke with a mild start, and sat up in the bed.

She smiled and turned, "You're up. Good," she said as if she had just entered the room a moment ago, "Mother will be pleased."

He gazed, bewildered at her, the events of the last few minutes lost on him.

She smiled and thought on how she had just mastered his magnificent flesh. He would be fun to mate with on the eve of the battle. He was a sire, she need only rut with him once. Then she could be gone, back to her mother, the old one within her womb, and Glory in the time to come. She certainly knew how to control men... this one would be no less of a challenge. She almost felt sorry for him.

He gazed at her with the oblivious, trusting eyes of a child. How precious her new toy looked sitting so pretty and vacuous. Perfect. "The girl from the Wildes. " at least he remembered where they met... promising, for a man.

"My name is Morrigan, in case you forgot." It was a whole day since they last saw one another after all - men.

She answered his questions - not all of them irrelevant - then thanked her. Odd... he was thoughtful and non-judgmental. perhaps he would be mildly interesting to be around... HA. Who was she kidding. He'll want her quiet and pretty, no way he'll find her stimulating in any other way but one, just like the rest. He'll never see her as intelligent, his equal... he was a man, only interested in her for what domestic skills he couldn't be bothered with learning, and rutting her at his leasure. Then again - maybe he was different? NO. He was the same as all the others she had sniff at her thighs - no different from the Mabari at his feet.

She needed to remind herself to see them all as her mother had taught her - breeders, nothing more than tools. They all whispered sweet things, they all kissed ever so softly; and they all used, and abandoned women: be it for another woman... or death. They were best used and destroyed or in his case... disgarded. Mother should know, she was the great and powerful Flemeth - SHE was no fool, and she had the perfect plan. Poor pretty pony.