*A/N: I am slowly figuring out exactly how to use the uploader , including when in my editing to add the author's note. Please bear with my noobness. Welcome to my first story! Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. Feel free to leave a comment with your thoughts, as these brighten my day. Constructive criticism is welcome. Thanks and enjoy!*

Korel moaned, low in his throat, his entire chest vibrating with the sound. His arms tingled from lack of blood flow; he tried to pull them down from over his head, only to encounter a resistance. He yanked repetitively, but to no avail. The motion made his biceps seize up with needling pain. Finally, he gave up, recognizing the harsh rasp of rope on his wrists.

"Ow," he complained loudly to whatever ungodly being would listen. "Lemme go."

It suddenly occurred to him that perhaps he should open his eyes and observe his surroundings before drawing attention to himself. He blinked blearily. Blazing firelight assaulted his vision, turning the two figures in the room into hazy silhouettes. His ears registered two distinct voices: one growly and hoarse with a heavy accent, and the other low, drawling, and slightly musical. He sucked in his breath, recognizing the first.

"Let me go," he renewed his battle against the ropes on his wrists, twisting his body away from the troll that had captured him. His mind slowly reconstructed the memory of his botched thievery. He had walked in on the troll in the middle of his bath, tried to lift his coin-purse, been caught in the act, and finally battered into unconsciousness by his fellow elf. "By the Eternal Sun, let me go!"

A warm hand caught him by the chin and jerked his face upwards. Tendrils of silky hair danced over his face. He sneered at the blonde elf, wrinkling his upturned nose. The other elf regarded him with both curiosity and disdain. He snapped his teeth at the hand holding his chin and was rewarded with a sharp slap on the cheek.

The world spun upside-down as Korel reeled from the hit. As soft as the hit had been, it still rocked him after so recently awakening. His fragile consciousness wavered. Tears pricked at his eyes. He could feel the tender spot on his temple where the elf had hit him earlier throbbing. A sense of desperation clouded his senses.

"Please let me go," he whimpered. "I won't bother you again."

He turned his face away from the awful glare of the hunter, sniffling quietly. If he survived this encounter, he would renounce his ways as a rogue and become a priest, devoting his life to the healing arts rather than the thieving arts. His heart fell as he realized that if they had intended to let him go, they would not have tied him up. He was going to die in this room, tied to their bed, probably after they had their fun with him. He shuddered at the thought, curling up as much as his prone position would allow.

"Did you know," the elf's lilting voice interrupted his cruel imaginings, "that it is a custom among some peoples to slice off the hands of petty thieves?"

Korel tried not to let his horror show. He carefully schooled his face into a mask of calm, though he knew his sparkling eyes still shone with fear. The hunter gently caressed his wrists with a long, slender finger. Korel flinched away from the touch.

"It would be such a shame to lose such soft, pretty hands," the hunter mused. Korel realized that the blonde elf was nearly straddling him as he whispered these awful, threatening things in his ears. Their long legs had tangled on the bed, reminiscent of other activities. Under different circumstances, the young elf would have been aroused, but fear for his extremities blocked any semblance of attraction from forming. "Don't you agree, little rogue?"

"Please…"

"Please what?" He could hear the smile in the other's voice.

"Please don't kill me! Or chop off my hands! I'll do anything! Please!" the words rushed from Korel's lips. He was mindless of his pride or of the consequences of his declaration, focused only on surviving this predicament. He hardly noticed the glittering tears that fell from his eyes. His chest ached as he gasped for air; the elf hovering above him shushed him, wiping the wetness from his cheeks. Korel glared at the elf, confused by his sudden kindness.

"If you surrender yourself to me, no one will harm you." With the firelight behind him, the hunter appeared to be a glowing angel, his aurelian hair forming a fiery halo around his head.

Korel's lips trembled. He could see the honesty reflecting in the hunter's eyes, but he could also see a predatory gleam. "What will you do to me?"

"Teach you how to properly sneak, for one," the other responded drily, "so we will not be in this sort of situation again."

The troll snorted. Korel whipped his head around, having forgotten his presence. His long, lanky form was draped over a rickety chair, his eyes riveted on the scene in front of him. The rogue noticed the bulge in the troll's tight leather pants. Korel blushed at his unabashed appreciation and by the close proximity of the other elf, turning his head to his shoulder so he could wipe away the remainder of his tears.

"I could use the training, but I'm unsure what your real intentions are," he admitted. Anything as long as I don't die.

"Your answer?"

Korel paused, considering the implications of his surrender. The irony was not lost on him; the one time he stepped back to consider his choice before he made it, he truly had no choice. Anger at his past immaturity and rashness bubbled in his chest. Perhaps, if he had not been so foolish, he would not be here.

"Just don't kill me."

A rather sweet smile spread across the hunter's face, taking Korel aback. "Of course not, pet."

An odd scent lingered underneath Korel's nose; his brain grew fuzzy, and his eyes slowly slid shut. He knew he had been drugged, but could not find it in himself to care as he submitted to unconsciousness yet again.

….*******….

"Puttin' him undah already? We jus' started havin' fun," Tar'kah complained as the rogue swooned under the effect of the drug. Lyinar popped the stopper back into place and threw the bottle at the troll. He caught it without sparing it a glance.

"He is distressed," Lyinar intoned softly, untying the ropes and rubbing the rogue's arms to restimulate the blood flow. "He will be much happier when he awakens the next time unbound and unthreatened."

Tar'kah watched his elf take care of the rogue with a pleased smile, although slightly rankled that he had not witnessed a little bit of play between the two. Lyinar needed something to cuddle and nurture in order to be content, which was one of the reasons he had become a hunter. While Tar'kah knew that Lyinar would struggle with the idea of the rogue entering their relationship, he also knew that Lyinar would not cause the rogue any harm. At worst, the mighty hunter would bitch about it, and Tar'kah would be forced to spank him. How ah'ful.

Lyinar tossed one of his springpaw skins over the sleeping rogue. Apparently satified, he turned to Tar'kah with his hands on his hips. "Am I playing nicely enough?"

"Dat yah are. Yah gonna play wit' me dat nicely?"

"In case you haven't noticed, we have someone occupying the bed."

Tar'kah tugged the lithe elf onto his lap, nuzzling his neck. "An' dat, swee'art, is wha' dey made da floor fo'."