The Wolf and the Woman by chrissystriped

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The Wolf and the Woman

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Carnlóme came back from controlling the guards. They were in enemy territory and watchfulness was important, he’d made sure the orcs guarding the camp understood that. Now he ran back to the fire on swift legs, his sensitive wolf-nose smelling the roasting meat. He didn’t need to eat to survive, but the smell made his mouth water nonetheless.

His ear pricked when he heard a high scream. That didn’t sound like an orc. He sighed and turned his steps in the direction of the sound, food would have to wait. He now heard the deeper voices of orcs, jeering and laughing. He ran quicker, finding a group of soldiers a short distance from the camp, surrounding an elf woman, cowering at the base of a wide tree trunk, trying to cover herself with the remnants of a ripped dress. She was pointing a dirk at them. One of the orcs had a bleeding cut on his forearm.

Carnlóme let out a low growl. He did not allow this kind of behaviour on campaign and his soldiers knew that. And she was too pretty for them anyway. The orcs stepped away as he padded closer, and sniffed at her. The elf stared at him with wide, frightened eyes. She probably thought, he’d eat her. Carnlóme chuckled. He wouldn’t.

“This one is mine”, he told the orcs. “Bring her to my tent.” One of them made protesting noise and Carnlóme snapped at him. “Do not talk back! I already have enough reason to take your hide for disregarding my orders! Do not tempt me further.”

They hurried to obey him, the elf not daring to fight them as they tied her hands and gagged her, her frightened eyes no leaving the huge, black wolf he was just now. Carnlóme followed them slowly, moving toward the cooking fire and changing into the elvish shape he liked to wear when not in wolf shape — a tall, brown-skinned male with short black hair and golden wolf-eyes. He let the cook fill two plates with meat and walked to his tent, where the soldiers had left the elf woman tied to the central tent pole.

She stared at him wide eyed, making a muffled sound and smelling even more of fear than she’d done in the forest. Carnlóme looked down at himself, he hadn’t bothered with clothes — he often didn’t — and only now realised what an impression that would make on her, now that she’d realised the wolf was not his only form. Being a wolf’s meal might sound preferable to her than what she was probably fearing now.

Carnlóme put the plates on his table and conjured up some raiment. He liked to walk around without clothes, but he didn’t want to frighten her. He felt a little bad about it.

“I won’t do anything to you”, he said to her. “Do you understand me.”

She just continued to stare at him with wide, tear-filled eyes. Carnlóme sighed and walked over to her to free her of the gag.

“This is not about sex”, he said. “I promise. Are you hungry? I brought us food.”

She looked warily at him. “What is it?”, she finally asked.

“Deer”, Carnlóme answered with a grin. “I’m a well-mannered wolf and not in the habit of eating elves.”

He walked around the tent pole and crouched down to cut her bonds. “I’m going to untie your hands, don’t try anything foolish.”

He waited for her nod, before cutting the rope. She stayed seated on the floor, her feet still bound tightly and Carnlóme offered her one of the plates before sitting down on the chair to eat his own meal.

“I could use a knife”, she said a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

Carnlóme laughed. “I guess you do. For plunging it into my heart, maybe? I don’t think so. Eat with your fingers, I won’t judge. Wolf, remember?”

She sighed, but made short work of her meal.

“What are you going to do to me?”, she finally said, putting the plate aside.

Carnlóme laughed. “You’re a bold one, aren’t you?” He leaned back in his chair and scrutinised her. “What did you do alone so close to our camp.”

“Hunting!”, she snapped. “I didn’t know you were here until those monsters attacked me.”

“And your people?” She glowered at him and Carnlóme knew he would be dead if looks could kill.

“Too far away for you to hurt”, she growled.

Carnlóme smiled at the look on her face. At first he’d only wanted to not let the orcs have their way, but now he was beginning to like her. She had courage.

“What’s your name?”, he asked.

For a long moment he thought, she wouldn’t answer, then she said: “Nenwing.”

“Nenwing”, he saw her shudder, as he said her name. She was afraid, but she didn’t cower. “I won’t give you to the orcs. I find that… distasteful. And I don’t care much for sex myself.”

“I’ll die, if anyone touches me”, she said, a threat, not a plea.

Carnlóme bowed his head. “That is — of course — always your own decision.” He didn’t mention that his king could very easily take that choice away from her. There was no reason to frighten her more and Melkor wouldn’t be interested in her.

“I won’t touch you that way”, he said again. “But I could use a servant. Think about it on our way back to Angband. It’s either that, or slave labour — and which case you won’t be protected from the orcs, I can promise you that.”

“Or you could let me go!”, she gritted out.

Carnlóme laughed and cocked his head. “No, I can’t. You would only run back to your family and tell where we are. I won’t endanger what has been a successful endeavour up until now.” And his soldiers had seen her. If he let her go, he’d get into trouble. “You are a slave of Angband now. Get used to the thought.”

She fell silent at that and Carnlóme tied her hands to the tent pole again. He would not risk her getting free somehow.

 

Nenwing wasn’t sure what to make of the Maia. He’d kept his promise and not touched her. She was surprised at how… normal he seemed. Shouldn’t a servant of the Darkness in the North be more scary? He tied her up every night, but not in a malevolent way, he was just making sure that she didn’t get away — or kill him in his sleep, it felt good to be taken serious by him.

“So, what’s it going to be?”, he said as the doors of Angband clanged shut behind them. “Do I bring you the slave quarters or will you try me.”

The way he talked into her head, when he wore the form of the wolf, was disturbing, but really, she’d expected everything to be worse. She looked down at the wolf who was almost as big as the horse she was riding — his horse. He hadn’t wanted her to have to walk. If he weren’t an enemy, she might almost find it charming. She did not now what to expect now, but she supposed, it would be worse, if she were given to these orcs again. Nenwing shuddered.

“I’ll take your offer”, she said, her voice trembling a  little.

He really didn’t seem that bad. She hoped he wouldn’t go back on his word. Maybe he just wanted more privacy than he’d had in a tent in the middle of a camp. Nenwing gulped down worried tears. She squeaked when the wolf’s nose touched her thigh.

“I won’t hurt you”, he told her again. “Dismount and follow me.”

She obeyed and jumped when he changed shape again. Naked again, he didn’t seem to have any sense of shame.

“Stay close”, he said and she hurried to follow him into the mountain. He seemed saver than the orcs who populated the tunnels.

She actually breathed a sigh of relief when the door to the Maia’s room closed behind them.

“Sit”, he said and vanished in another room. Nenwing sat stiffly down on the couch. When he came back, he was wearing a comfortable looking robe. He sat down beside her, but not so close that she felt threatened.

“I don’t know your name, yet”, she said, feeling emboldened by his restraint. She’d wanted to ask before, but hadn’t dared.

He smiled wryly. “I’m Carnlóme”, he answered. “But you’ll have to call me Master. Personally, I don’t care either way, but I will have to punish you, if you slip in front of others, so better get used to it.”

Nenwing curled her lip.

Carnlóme laughed. “Oh, I can see that you don’t like that.”

“Why am I here?”, she blurted out.

Carnlóme cocked his head. “You being here will stop my peers from asking questions I don’t wish to answer. And I find you interesting.”

Nenwing narrowed her eyes at him. She couldn’t work him out and that worried her. She’d have to tread very carefully until she understood him better. And stay ‘interesting’… whatever that meant.

 

~*~*~

 

He was acting in a red haze, the smell of blood strong in the air. He jumped, hearing a scream, feeling skin and muscle tear under his teeth, hot blood flooding his mouth, bones crunched. He shook his head to tear at the body under him, gulping down a piece of meat. In this state, he could not think, could not even remember his own name. All that mattered was the taste of blood and the hunt.

 

Carnlóme closed the door behind him and sighed.

“Good evening, Master”, said Nenwing and although he’d had a hard day, the slightly aggressive way she pronounced the honorific made him smile. He liked her spiciness.

“Good evening, Nenwing. Dinner ready?”

Nenwing nodded. “You look like you had a horrible day.”

“Hm”, murmured Carnlóme as they sat down to eat. “Indeed.”

“Want to talk about it?”

He shook his head. “Not really. We were called to some trouble in the mines.”

Some slaves had tried to revolt. He hated killing elves. Nenwing was silent for a while, but Carnlóme felt that a question was brewing. She sometimes needed a bit, but she always managed to be bolder than any other elf he’d yet encountered.

“Why did you decide to follow the… the Darkness?”, she finally asked.

Carnlóme shrugged. “I was Orome’s before and I loved to hunt with the pack, but… when I taste blood, there’s no stopping me, I kill everything in reach. Orome decided to keep me away from others, he tried to lock me up in Aman. I escaped, Melkor found me and gave me a new home. He likes my bloodlust. I’m not sure about it myself, but… here I’m free at least.”

Her eyes were wide and Carnlóme felt bad about frightening her.

“I am dangerous”, he said gently. “But you already knew that. I will not hurt you.”

Nenwing shook herself and nodded. “Well, I asked”, she said with a sigh.

Carnlóme didn’t try to make conversation after that. He felt tired and he thought, she needed time to think. After dinner, he went to his room and turned into a wolf, curling up tightly and feeling miserable.

 

He woke up to a hand stroking his fur. It felt strange but very comforting. When he opened his eyes, Nenwing sat beside him, looking tense as she ran her hand over his head and back.

“You have never hurt me, yet”, she said. “Whatever it is, you are capable of, you’ve kept it in in my presence. I want to trust you.”

“You can”, he answered. “I won’t hurt you.” She nodded and made to stand up. “Wait”, he asked, because he didn’t want to be alone now. “I liked that. Could you, please…”

Nenwing had a soft smile on her lips as she sat down beside him again and continued to pet him. Carnlóme closed his eyes and enjoyed. She was awesome, he thought. She trusted him despite haven not much reason to. He would not let her come to harm.