The Ties that Bind by Hoglorfen

Sweet Release

Whindaër was fast asleep when Graznikh returned several hours later. She had tossed and turned a bit and the slip had sneaked up to the point where he could almost see that treasure he wanted to get his hands and other body parts onto so badly. He took a moment to admire the sight before he put down the large bag, bucket of water and bundle of cloth he had been carrying, removed his armour and laid down next to her. She stirred when he moved close but did not awaken, for which Graznikh was grateful.
He was not in the mood to talk. Things hadn't gone at all the way he had planned. Instead of seducing her to the point of no return, where she was so hot for him that she could not refuse him even though she wanted to, he had tried to convince her with reason by making a crude deal. I'm such a bloody impatient idiot, he thought. I've gone and ruined everything. Maybe she'll agree to the deal, but that'll be because she wants to be free, not 'cause she really wants me. The chance of my life and I spoiled it. Skai...

She moved slightly in her sleep, lifting a hand and placing it on the bed in front of his face. Graznikh rubbed his flattened nose against it... and got a heady whiff of her filling his nostrils. He would recognise that scent anywhere, even though no two were the same. He could not help himself; he pushed her hand to his face and sniffed again, stifling a groan. This was new. Did she actually try it..? He shook his head, mood improving significantly. So she did learn something from all my babbling. And she didn't just learn, she put it to practise too. And speaking of practise...
He sat up to get a better look at her. The she-Elf might have a mind more innocent than any cub he had ever met, but she did not have the body of one anymore. The first time he had spotted her picking leaves in the forest by the Sea, she had been a child and so had he. A silly Orc cub dreaming of capturing an Elf and being a great warrior. He had spotted her a few times after that as they both grew, brief glimpses of dark hair and soft moonkissed skin. He had hoped to catch her at one of those moments, steal her away in the darkness and strip all that purity from her body and mind. Her presence at the ambush had been pure unbridled luck, the greatest gift the usually cruel mistresses of Fate had ever given him. And Graznikh intended to make the most of it.

Growing up in Dunland had been good in more than one way for a healthy young Orc male. Not only were there many strongholds in the mountains, meaning that there were also many willing Orc females. There was good loot to be had from raiding the northern borderlands and trading with the Dunlendings. And when one had wealth to part with, there were Women in the larger Dunlending settlements who were willing to spread their legs even for an Orc. When he had gained a reputation for being less rough and violent than most of his peers, that had opened a lot of doors. The whores of Dunland had taught him things about men and women of all races. Some were things he had not cared to learn, some were very useful stuff.
No, she ain't a child anymore, he thought as he ogled her in the dark. She wasn't quite finished yet but she had the hips and breasts of a woman, with soft, round thighs and a rump that begged to get pounded. Briefly he wondered if she had figured things out and managed to finish herself off, but he doubted it. She didn't smell that way. And she might have gotten a clue about things earlier but she still loathed every moment he touched her. Perhaps there was a way to change that.
He stripped until he was naked save for the loincloth. Then he tied her hands with the strip of cloth he had used to bind her with earlier and nailed it to the mattress above her head with his knife, taking great care not to hurt or wake her. He knelt between her legs so that she would not be able to close them and pinned her hips to the mattress with one arm. Then he reached down between her legs to caress the wetness inbetween. Whindaër woke up with a shriek and tried to pull away, but found she could not move. Graznikh ignored her protests and kept fingering, trying out different angles and techniques to find the one that might set her off. Fingers circled around that little nub of pleasure where he knew Women were sensitive and she suddenly became very still, barely breathing. He rubbed it again from a different angle and was rewarded with a soft, reluctant moan. He chuckled darkly and set a slow, steady pace. His thumb rubbed the folds around her opening, careful not to enter or scratch her with his claws.

Whindaër could not think. It was as if her mind had suddenly gone blank. This state of mind had only come to her before when she panicked, but the feelings and sensations the Orc brought her now were altogether different. Every stroke, every rub, every hot breath on her skin pulled her closer to something unknown, into the same Darkness where he dwelled. She desperately clung to what little sanity and reason she had left, though it seemed to shrink and wane with every wave of dark pleasure his fingers brought her. The pace changed and pleasure washed over her, so intense that she could not escape had she even wanted to...
Orcs growled a lot. When they were happy, when they were angry, when they were horny. Graznikh knew that some Women were sensitive to that sound, so he decided to see if that applied to Elves as well. He leaned in close to Whindaër's ear, rubbing his chest against her back and let out a low, deep rumble as he licked the eartip. He could see her nails dig into the mattress as the sound brought her closer to the edge.
”C'mon, c'mon,” he coaxed and growled again as his fingers sped up.
Her sudden climax took them both by surprise. Her body shook as the avalanche swept her away to the sound of the Orc's triumphant roar. Slowly, inevitably, the intense pleasure waned. She felt defiled, but incomplete. Graznikh stopped pulling away as he heard a disappointed whimper. He leaned close and whispered; ”Again? Ya sure?” The smallest of nods was enough and he began fingering her again. It did not take long until she climaxed once more, moaning and rubbing against him. Graznikh laughed and began to pull his hand away when he heard a whispered ”no” and stared at her.
”You're fucking kidding me! Again!?” She nodded, lips parted, eyes unseeing. The third one hit her almost as soon as he touched her and this time she pulled away. Graznikh admired his handiwork for a while before untying the sweatsoaked Elf.

Whindaër felt... broken. Her fëa twitched in a corner of her self like a sparrow after a full frontal collision with a glass window. She could not tell if it would leave her once it came to or simply die then and there.
”I never knew Elves had such an appetite,” Graznikh murmured with a grin. ”Good thing I took care o' things before I went in here, otherwise you wouldn't have been able to stop me. Not in this condition.” He chuckled at her mortified look. Then he laid down and pulled her up onto his bare chest. She tried to resist but was too exhausted to do more than to look away in disgust as he began to lick her juices off his fingers.
”Hey.” He began fondling her eartip to get her attention.
”...Yes?”
”Just imagine... I did all this to ya with just two fingers.”
He grinned at her confused, humiliated expression. ”If just two of my fingers could make ya feel like this, imagine what the rest of my body could do.”
Whindaër's eyes began to burn with tears. ”I shall never be able to go back home,” she whispered. ”Not like this, defiled like this, carrying this shame.”
”Izzat so?” Before Whindaër buried her face in his coarse black mane, she glimpsed something in his eyes that could have been mistaken for fondness. He scratched her neck.
”If I could, I woulda brought ya with me to Dunland,” he said softly. ”There's lots of space up there, we might've found a place, a nice little woodland den all our own.”
”And the Men there would accept an Elf in their midst?”
”'Course not. But once I'd taught ya how to use a weapon, none of 'em would say shit in your presence.”
The Elf lifted her head and looked at him. ”Why would I want to do that?”
”Because otherwise they'd kill ya. And if they do say shit, just tell 'em 'latob naparat gorat tala za donk' and slit their throats.” He grinned.
”What... does that mean?”
Graznikh laughed. ”Trust me, you really, REALLY don't wanna know.”

Whindaer rested her head against his muscular shoulder. Not because she wanted to, but because there was nothing else. His skin felt leathery against her cheek. ”The maps I have seen shows Enedwaith as a barren wasteland.”
”That's the Elven name for Dunland? What's it mean?”
”The land in the middle, between the settlements in the north and south, inhabited by the Men from the island of Elenna.”
”So it's the crack between the tarks' arsecheeks?” Graznikh laughed.
”In a crude manner of speaking, I suppose,” Whindaër said with a faint voice. She wasn't sure that she could handle much more of this good humour.
Graznikh suddenly buried his face in her hair and sniffed. ”Huh, that's new.” He sniffed again. ”Interesting.”
”What is?”
He sniffed her hair one last time and looked at her with a smug smile. ”No fear.” She let out a defeated whimper. ”That's some progress. One week and you're already all over me.”
Her head snapped up. ”A week?!” Graznikh nodded. ”But... I have only slept thrice.”
”Ya don't really count time down here. There's no Sun or Moon to help ya keep track. And speaking of sleep...” His jaws cracked as he yawned. He let Whindaër slide back down on the mattress, then went over to his pack and pulled out an old motheaten wool blanket. He pulled her close and wrapped it around them, quietly enjoying the fact that she had not struggled at all.

Chapter End Notes

Elenna - the name of the island where the realm of Númenor is located
Skai - Orcish curse
Latob naparat gorat tala za donk - this is a joke curse among swedish orc LARPers. The rough translation is ”your mother works at McDonalds”. I just couldn't resist putting it in there, sorry :)