The Ties that Bind by Hoglorfen

Introductions

When Whindaër woke up, she had no idea where she was. It was cold and dark and in the distance she could hear a faint thundering sound. Her entire body hurt and her head felt like it was full of wet wool. Slowly the memory of the events leading to her current situation returned, and she suddenly realised that she was wearing nothing but the ankle-long slip that passed for underwear in the haven. She curled up into a ball on the rough mattress and wished the ground would swallow her. The Orc's words echoed in her mind, no matter how she tried to shut them out. I won't hurt ya, my little Elf... I'll be good to ya, you'll see... What was he going to do? Oh Valar, what is going to happen to me?

There was no telling how much time had passed before the sound of footsteps outside the door reached her. An hour? A week? A year? Light flooded her vision despite having her back to the rough wooden door as the Orc came in carrying a torch which he placed in a crude ring on the wall.
Graznikh took some time to admire the little creature occupying his sleeping mat. So small and frail-looking, but tougher and stronger than she looked. His leg still hurt where she had kicked him. The first stage of his plan was complete. Time to move on.
The thin pallet shifted ever so slightly as he sat down next to her and she tensed, barely daring to breathe.
”So...” the Orc said in a casual tone. ”Welcome to my crib. Hope the quarters are to your likin'. It's not much, but I guess ya can't be too picky this far from the beaten track. There's a bucket in the corner if ya need to take a piss or shit and I assume you can't see all that well in the dark so I'll leave the torch for ya.” She felt him shift. ”If there's anything I can get ya, just let me know.”
”I want to go home,” she whispered.
”Oh, you will,” the Orc said. Whindaer turned her head slightly.
”What?”
”You'll go home. One way or another, I'll let ya outta here.”
Her heart sank again.
”By the way, I wouldn't try to sneak out if I were you. This place is a bloody maze. And screamin' for help won't do ya much good either. Hear that sound? That's a waterfall. Very efficient when it comes to drowning, both sounds and people.”

Graznikh waited for a bit, but the Elf did not move. This won't do, he thought and grabbed her shoulders to turn her over onto her back. Suddenly she sprung to life and began wriggling and screaming. After a brief struggle he had her securely on her back, reeking with fear and so tense that he wondered if she'd snap in two if he let her go.
”No... No... no...” she kept gasping. Graznikh rolled his eyes and leaned in so close she could not avoid his eyes.
”What?”
”Noooo,” the Elf moaned.
”What?” he asked again, softer this time. She seemed to calm down somewhat.
”What... what?”
He grinned. ”What's your name?” The Elf looked so confused he almost burst out laughing. Then her lips moved. ”Wh-Whindaër.”
Surprised that she had cooperated so easily, he leaned in closer, so close he could almost feel her frantic heart move the air between them. ”Win-daar... Nice to meet ya, Win-daar. I'm Graznikh...” The last words he breathed into her open mouth. She shut it so hard her teeth snapped. Graznikh collapsed on top of her, head against her shoulder, shaking with silent laughter. A sharp sob made him look up.
”Huh?”
”Your armour... it hurts me.”
”Oh.” With the agility of a mountain leopard he shifted to a squat next to the mattress. ”Well, that's easily rectified.” She quickly curled up into a ball again as he removed his armour and threw it carelessly against the cavern wall.
He stripped but kept his loincloth and leather chaps. Then he sat down leaning against the opposite wall, watching her in silence. Easy Graznikh, he reminded himself, nice an' easy. Don't go too far too fast, you'll only regret it in the end. But toying with her like this was so much fun! Keeping her balanced right between hope and despair, carefully tugging her this way and that, never letting her know where she had him while slowly nudging her towards trust and away from revulsion would be difficult as she was so very sensitive, but oh so very rewarding when, or if, he succeeded. He couldn't help but wonder if she was equally sensitive in other ways as well, and the thought of playing with her like that... No no, bad thoughts! Not yet! To keep his mind from straying, he tried to strike up a conversation with his Elf.

”So... What do Elves do?” No reply. ”Hey.” He poked the Elf with his foot but she did not react. He crawled up close behind her. ”I don't like bein' ignored,” he whispered in her ear. ”When people ignore me, I get very upset.” He drew one of his knives and made a cut across the pallet in front of her face. ”You wouldn't like me when I'm upset.” The point was not lost as a barely audible ”sorry” was heard. Graznikh gave her an appreciative nod as she turned to face him. ”What do Elves do?”
Whindaër looked puzzled. ”When?”
”When they're not out walkin' into ambushes.”
She sighed. ”Lying in caves waiting to get eaten, apparently.” She probably did not mean it that way, but the unintended dirty double meaning of her statement sent him to the floor, rolling with laughter. So much for keeping his mind off things.
”Anyway,” he said once he had managed to stop laughing. ”Ya hungry?”
Whindaër glanced at the door. ”No.” Her treacherous stomach gave off an empty sound. In truth, she had not been able to eat anything since early morning the day before.
Graznikh grinned. ”I'll be right back.” He paused at the door. ”By the way, what do Elves eat? D'ya eat meat?”
She gave him a haunted look. ”Not that of our own kind.”
”Right. What about goat?” He left when she nodded and returned shortly after with some strips of dried meat. ”Travellin' fare. Sorry I don't have anything else, haven't had much time to hunt. I did nick some drink from your fellows earlier though,” he said and held up a small etched bronze flask that Whindaër recognized immediately.
”That is not water,” she began as Graznikh pulled the plug with his teeth and spat it out on the floor. He waved her off.
”Don't worry, I'm a big boy. I can handle my drink.” He took a swig from it, dropped it (Whindaër managed to catch it just before it hit the floor) and began coughing and gagging.

”What the everlovin' FUCK was that??” he said after he had nothing left to throw up. ”It feels like I've got fire ants crawlin' all over my guts!”
”It is miruvor,” Whindaër said, taking a small sip from the flask after carefully wiping the spout. ”An invigorating drink that we make from honey and herbs.”
”What, like ghâshpau?”
”I do not know what that is.”
”Pretty much the same as what you described, only made by us Orcs and not from honey.” He coughed a bit more and cleared his throat with a scowl. ”Why don'tcha keep that? I think you'll have more use for it than me. And you'll need your strength,” he added with a naughty wink that sent chills down Whindaër's spine. Then he left, and did not return again until after she had fallen asleep.

Graznikh studied the sleeping Elf while fingering her soft hair. The scent of fear still lingered on her but was much weaker now, and her natural scent was stronger. Her heart beat audibly in the still air.
Graznikh had had his fair share of rape. It was a way to vent while raiding a village or caravan, but he wasn't all that interested in it. He preferred willing partners. But this... He let the lock of Elf hair slide between his fingers. This would be different. He wasn't going to rape the Elf. They died from such activities as surely as they would from a blade through the throat, everyone knew that. But what if she wanted it? He didn't even know if Elves fucked the regular way, but if they did... I'm gonna find the right way, he promised her. I'm gonna find what makes ya stop runnin' and I'm gonna fuck ya 'til you scream my name and beg for more.
He froze as she whimpered. A single tear slid down her cheek. Having a nightmare, eh? He undressed and stretched out beside her, pulling her close and shielding her from the damp, cold air in the cave.