Disclaimer: All these belongs to CP.
She begged, she cried and yet he didn't budge. His face, an impassive stone block. Arms, cages of steel around her. Legs, holding her, in an embrace of death. Nothing would make him move, care, or even feel. Her time was about to end, she knew. She tried. Tried to evoke at least one stir of feelings. Be it passion, hate, or even undeniable lust. Despair enveloped her. She knows it was about to end. Four months? Years? Or just merely hours? She don't know anymore. She lost all track of time. His arms loosen. A wild hope springs up. The fingers closes uponst a steel blade. She sweats. Funny how you could lose all control after being confined to darkness. Smirks. That was what was on his face. An evil smile spreads. He rips off her clothes. She squirms under the pressure. He caress the blade lovingly. She prepares to give up all hope. He draws patterns on her skin with the knife. She prepares for the ultimate sacrifice. He lifts the blade. She screams.
The door bursts open.
And the elf Arya felt salvation.