The Ties that Bind by Hoglorfen

A Fond Farewell

When they returned to the cave, Whindaër sat down on the mattress to detangle her hair. It went faster now, thanks to the comb. Graznikh sat down next to her while unpacking the bag containing the food. There was a dark flat bread, a lump of butter wrapped in waxed linen, some kind of hard cheese, a piece of smoked venison and even a few small, wrinkly apples that were the sweetest Whindaër had ever tasted.
”Where did you find all of this?”
”Traded. A merchant caravan bound for Dunland passed a few days before the raid, I thought I'd treat myself to some little luxuries before my eventual death. But I never had time to return here after I stashed it away.”
Graznikh cut slices from the cheese and the venison with a knife that he promised had only been used for food. This is absurd, Whindaër thought while they ate. It is as if we are a happy couple on a romantic picnic, not prisoner and captor. The fact that they were both still naked added to the absurdity. She felt apprehension creep back into her heart as Graznikh eyed her with a sly smile. He leaned back on his elbows, stretching to make sure she got a good look at him.
”Mik âmbal...” he purred.
”What does that mean?”
”Little sweet.”
”The Orcish tongue have words like that?”
”Aye, what else would we call pretty little Elves when we catch them?” He grinned. ”There's another word too, mîr, meaning 'pretty'. But that's not really used about people, it's more for things, a gem or a nicely sharpened blade.”
Whindaër looked at him. ”What of love?”
”What about it?”
”There is no word for it?”
”I don't know, what's love?”
”It is...”

Whindaër was stunned. The notion of someone, anyone, not knowing about love was almost incomprehensible to her. ”It is... when you feed your beloved before you eat yourself, even when it means starving. It is when you feel content in a person's presence and you wish to be nowhere but by their side, even though the surroundings are bleak and the destination unsure. It is when you wait for years beyond counting for that one person, despite not knowing their fate. It is when you embark on an impossible quest to win the right to be with your beloved, even though it may claim your life.” She paused for a moment before continuing with a whisper: ”It is when you are able to accept someone, beyond all their flaws, beyond the fact that they sometimes treat you cruelly or speak in ways that you cannot comprehend. It is when you wish for that person's happiness, even though it means sacrificing your own.”
”Sounds like bloody madness to me.”
”It is,” Whindaër whispered. ”But it is a good kind." She looked at him sadly. "But there is no word for it among your kind?”
Graznikh shook his head, damp black hair falling over his face. He brushed it away with a hand. ”Nar, none that I know of at any rate. There's opash, meaning when you're horny for someone, I'd guess that's the closest you get. We don't really do 'love'. Why d'you ask?”
”I was only curious,” she said quietly. Graznikh kept looking at her with an unreadable expression. She felt stupid for asking. Of course there was no such thing as love among Orcs! What was she thinking? Her heart felt strange. This is insanity! I cannot be falling in love with an Orc, a creature uncapable of even comprehending such emotions! Does the corruption of his touch run so deep already?

Graznikh watched the Elf for while before getting up. He needed to clear his head. As he rummaged through another bag, some of what she said echoed in his mind no matter how he tried to ignore it, and the little ball of foreign presence inside kept bugging him. ”It is when you are able to accept someone, beyond all their flaws, beyond the fact that they sometimes treat you cruelly or speak in ways you cannot comprehend.” There was a jab in there directed at him, he was sure of it. He pulled out the robe and sash that his Elf had worn the day he found her, buried his face in it and inhaled deeply. ”It is when you feel content in a person's presence and you wish to be nowhere but by their side, even though the surroundings are bleak and the destination unsure.” He was going to miss her. But that was only because he was hot for her, he wanted to fuck her, taste her, hear the moans and little cries he drew from her reluctant lips as he touched her. ”It is when you wish for that person's happiness, even though it means sacrificing your own.” If he let her go, did that mean he loved her? If she wanted to stay, did that mean she loved him? Or if she left? Graznikh shook his head. This was too much. Why couldn't things be simple? You wanted someone, then you fucked them. Either you paid for it, or asked nicely or just fucked them anyway, how you got it didn't really matter, did it? You wanted to hang out with someone, then you did so or got punched. That was it, wasn't it? He sniffed the robe again. Skai, I'm gonna miss her. He had almost, almost forgotten the bond for a moment, now he tried to focus on it without tugging it. He doubted that it was possible to read her mind through it, but he found that he could feel some stronger emotions through it, currently mainly grief and disappointment. There was a hint of something else too that he could not identify. He turned back towards the mattress.
”Hey.” He held up the robe as Whindaër lifted her gaze. ”Thought you might wanna wear something.”
She gave him a small grateful smile as he handed it over, and he couldn't help returning it. How could such a little thing feel so good? ”About this bond-thing...”
”Yes?”
”Is it possible to lie through it? I mean, can ya pick up feelings that aren't real?”
She shook her head. ”The bond does not lie. And you cannot feel feelings that you are not truly feeling, so no.”
”...Right.”
She began dressing. After lacing her soft leather boots, wrapping the robe and sliding the sash down around her waist she hesitated.
”Um... Could you..?”
Graznikh grinned. ”You never learned to dress yourself?”
”Of course I did! But I cannot reach behind to tie it properly.” She showed him how to wrap it and hold it in place.
”Like this? Harder?” He had to use quite a bit of strength to pull the sash tight and tie it. ”Can you even breathe in that thing?” She smiled a little and nodded. At least she ran bloody fast in it, Graznikh thought and smiled at the memory. She looked now almost as she had then, only with rosier cheeks and a few more wrinkles in her robe. He almost gave in to the urge to tear it off, but he resisted and instead pulled her close to nibble her ear before reaching for his own worn leathers.

Whindaër watched Graznikh dress, reflecting upon the events of the past week. He seemed so alien in many ways and she had feared for her life more times during her brief stay with him than she had during the entirety of her life before. But she had also never felt more alive. He was terrifying and crude, but had also been unexpectedly kind and gentle. He was definitely not handsome, more like a monstrosity in most Elven eyes. But when he smiled one of those rare genuine smiles something shone through in his eyes, something that drew her in.
Graznikh tightened his belt and strapped the harness that held his twin blades to his back. After making sure he'd get them out in a hurry if needed he turned to the Elf. My Elf. My âmbal.
”C'mon,” he said and took the torch from its holder. ”Let's check the weather.”
The noise of the waterfall grew in strength as they slowly made their way out. Whindaër inhaled deeply as the passed it on a narrow and slippery ledge and came out into the open air. The evening was cloudy and Graznikh made an odd comment about pale skin and luck that Whindaër did not understand.
”Will we even reach the forest tonight?” she asked. ”I had travelled for three days when you... found me.”
”Aye, we will. This cave is much closer to the border than your caravan was.”
Whindaër fell silent and Graznikh felt a sharp pang through the bond.
He stopped. ”What?”
”Were you... truthful when you said that none but me had survived the raid?”
He didn't look at her when he answered. ”Nar. I don't know if anyone else survived, I was a little busy with you at that point.”
”Did you kill my uncle?”
”The guy who jumped me?”
Graznikh shook his head as she nodded. ”Nar. I hit him, but not hard enough to kill. If he's dead, it's not by my hand.”
They continued to walk in silence. Suddenly Graznikh had the strangest feeling. It was as if something brushed against his ribcage from the inside. He spun to face Whindaër.
”What the fuck're ya doin'?” he hissed.
She stared at his glowing eyes. ”I'm sorry?”
”You weren't doing anything to me right now?”
”I only...” she looked down in shame. ”I only wondered how you felt... I touched the bond.”
Graznikh was amazed. ”That's what it feels like? It feels like that when I do it to you too?”
”I do not know. How does it feel?” He tried to explain the feeling and Whindaër nodded. ”It is similar, only... you are a little rough sometimes.”
Graznikh chuckled. ”That's an understatement if I ever heard one.” She surprised him by laughing as well.

The night was dark and they neither saw nor heard any other living creature save for night birds and bats. Graznikh had thrown the torch into the river to avoid being a walking target, so Whindaer had to pick her path using ears and feet alone. At one point she stumbled and fell but Graznikh, nocturnal creature that he was, caught her with ease and lifted her back on her feet.
”Elves aren't supposed to stumble,” he whispered as he let her go.
”Orcs aren't supposed to catch them if they do,” she whispered back. She felt his grin more than she saw it as he pulled her close and buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply. Graznikh felt strangely dizzy as he let go. Skai, what the fuck's happening to me?

After a few more hours, Graznikh suddenly stopped. ”Well, this is it.”
Whindaër looked around. ”This?”
”Aye, over there's the edge o' your forest. The stream ya see down there goes down to a little clearing with white flowers, I think ya know it. I'm not going any further, don't want the guards to turn me into a pincushion.” He flashed her a reassuring grin.
Whindaër hesitated. ”Thank you.”
”For what?”
She shrugged. ”For... you know.”
He gave her a sly smile. ”Yeah.” Then he snorted quietly and pulled her into a rough embrace, gently placing his fangs against the nape of her neck and purring deeply. ”I'm gonna miss ya, âmbal,” he whispered when he let go. Whindaër simply nodded, the torrent of emotions that met him through the bond was enough. ”And... I'll let ya go now. Don't worry about the bond. I won't bother ya with it again.” He desperately tried to shut her response out as he backed away and turned to leave.
"Graznikh, I-”
”Just fucking go before I change my mind,” he growled, a little harsher than he intended. He turned to apologise, but found that she had already disappeared among the bushes. He cursed silently as he turned back towards the mountains, heading in the direction his band had last camped. It was the longest, hardest road he had ever taken.

Chapter End Notes

On character ages: Graznikh is 10 years old and Whindaër is 65 when he first spots her in the forest. The raid happens five years later. Elven bodies grow slowly and they come of age at 50-100 years, this is also when they usually marry/"join in hroa and fëa". Orcs on the other hand grow faster than humans and reach adulthood at 10-13 years. Both are physically mature, but Whindaër appears younger in mind because she has lived such a sheltered life.