For the next couple of days, Tauriel was left alone. For some reason, Bolg did not come to her, and whether she wanted that or not, she began feeling terribly alone and bored. Although some orcs did come to give her a bowl of raw meat and a cup of water, they seemed not to speak any other language than orcish, so she could neither talk to them nor even ask where their commander was. It was a strange and disturbing feeling; after three or four days she started thinking that he had got bored of his new toy and she was now to exist here until her days came to an end.
Curling in one of the corners and glancing at the door as if in hopes that someone would come to her, Tauriel pressed the edge of the cup to her lips. She needed more water than just one cup, but she dared not ask for it. Moreover, she was afraid that the orcs would not understand, and if they did, that it would finish like the last time when she had complained about the food and drink there.
On the other hand, though, when she had woken up the next morning, there had been a pelt, or rather something like a hairy blanket, wrapped around her shoulders, letting her feel warm and preventing from her getting a cold. Although still naked, she was glad to have it; that was something she used to hide her indecency and to warm up at the same time; even the strange smell of the orcs could not stop her from putting it around herself almost all the time.
Right now, she sat with the blanket still around herself, sipping the water as if it was the dearest of her treasures, trying not to focus on the fact that she was alone. The feeling of being abandoned was the worst thing she had ever felt – after all, it was someone's own decision. No-one had been taken away from her, like Kili, but someone had decided not to come to her anymore, as if she had got broken or no longer interesting. Yes, she did realize that some of the orc that served her with food did not think she was not interesting; they licked their lips and smiled lustfully, making her feel sick to her stomach, and suddenly, she began to regret that she had prayed for their commander to leave her.
For now, as he had left, she felt so terribly alone.
The more she realized that, the more she hated herself and the deeper she sank into sorrow. How could she miss someone as disgusting as that great orc? How could she think of him embracing her, what let her feel warm and needed, even in such a terrible meaning? Even if it would mean she was nothing but sexually desired, being needed was something Tauriel found necessary. She realized that those were thoughts she should have never had, but she could not help it. Her loneliness pushed her to the very limit and suddenly she noticed she was praying for anyone to come to her, even if it would mean she was to serve that orc with her body again.
However, that was not going to happen, at least not for several next days. If it could be any comfort to the poor elven woman, she had not been abandoned by Bolg. The orc, along with his people, were busy burning and plundering some human villages nearby. They found it an exercise of a sort, and although after the great battle they dared not attack any bigger cities or any other race but men, they no longer stayed hidden, yet they avoided being noticed by anyone who could be any danger to them. They were not ready for any bigger war. Not now.
Bolg smirked to himself, though, remembering the dead elven bodies scattered all around him as he limped through the battlefield when no-one was there anymore, so no-one could notice him. Yes, the fall had been painful, and he could hardly see through the thick layer of blood on his face (this elven princeling had pierced his skull with one of his knives, he could still feel the pain), but he had survived with nothing but that badge mounted in his head.
Now, he would have his revenge. But first, he would need to prepare well, for although the elven race was not ready yet, either, he would not risk another defeat. Elves did not reproduce as fast as orcs did, and there were less of them, so he was not worried about it. However, he still needed time, and though he knew that other orcs seemed to be quite impatient about it, he did not plan on making any big moves just yet.
It had taken more than a week for him to finish his act of destroying the villages. Having stolen some of the treasures, the pack made their way back to their hiding place. Ironically, it was not that far from the elven kingdom; and yet, they had managed to remain unnoticed by the guards, or anyone at all.
Proud of his achievements, he smiling walked towards his slave's room. She would definitely not be glad to hear about his makings, but he did not care much about that. One day she would learn that it was something incredible, that he was a powerful and desired man amongst his kin. That she should be thankful that it was him to abduct her; after all, he was still gentle with her. No other orc would have ever cared about her comfort. But he wanted her safe. That was what those chains were for – not to keep her in place so she would not run away, but so no-one would hurt her. Since the orcs had quite a respect for him as their commander, they would not enter his rooms – and the one Tauriel was situated in belonged to him – so as long as she spent her time there, no-one would dare to touch her.
Even though she was now his property, he could not trust anyone amongst his pack; that was what he had already learnt. And that was why he would not let her walk around the place freely. At least not yet. Maybe when the other orcs learnt that she was one of them, for he did not plan on letting her go and return to her kin, they would respect her as they respected him. But before that could happen, he had to keep his eye on her, make sure that she did nothing stupid, and that none of his kin would feel provoked to hurt her in any way.
Having opened the door, he could see her curled in the corner, covered with the blanket and asleep. Maybe he should have left her something to do. But never before had she had such a slave; his previous slaves had been taken only for the sake of the information they could provide him with – then they had all got killed. Tauriel, on the other hand, was there to be safe. He would not let anyone kill or hurt her, and that meant that he could not allow boredom to have her broken and apathetic, for then, she would have lost her charm and he would not need her anymore. And that thought for some reason left a deep wound in his heart.
The sound of the door being closed and heavy steps made Tauriel move in her sleep and she groaned a little, stretching her sore limbs. The chains rang, and Bolg frowned a bit. Maybe just one chain and a collar would be enough. On the other hand, it would be too easy to remove, and she would definitely try to escape, and that was something he could never allow to happen. Shaking his head, he approached the woman and used one of the chains attached to her wrist to pull her up onto her feet.
That was enough to wake her. Gasping, she opened her eyes, scared as she faced the orc's face. If she could think of the worst way of waking up and the worst sight after opening her eyes, it was even worse than that. After all, this face disgusted her to no end, not to mention, she was completely sure that he would make her submit to him once more. And the thought of it would not be as unpleasant as it was now if not for the terrible feel of guilt that filled her heart. For the experience itself was definitely not unpleasant. Quite the opposite; the memory itself was able to make her shiver as her skin covered with goosebumps.
Seeing that, Bolg smiled lopsidedly. So it seemed that the seed of curiosity and pleasure had already been planted in this beautiful she-elf's heart. There was nothing else that would ever be able to flatter her as much as this awareness did.
"What do you want," she growled as that sweet look of hatred returned to her eyes. Oh, soon... soon she would not look at him like that. He would teach her; she was a talented pupil, so she would grasp it, whether she wanted it or not. She would glance at him with begging and lust, with respect and admiration. "I will not give you anything this time."
The smile on the orc's face, though, made her completely confused. It did not look like he was planning on tainting her once more. If he did, he would have already done that; and yet, he had been holding her hand, only to make sure that she was looking at him. Realizing how awkward this situation had become, Tauriel blinked and glanced at her wrist, around which the thick, grey fingers were wrapped. After a moment, she could feel the grasp loosen up a little, and that was when she turned her sight to the wide face once more.
"This time it is be me who will give you something," he informed her, and the elf swallowed hard, convinced that he would push her onto her knees once more. Praying that she was wrong, that he would not offer her his better food and drink, she bit her lip and kept looking at him hesitantly, hoping that she would soon get an answer.
Nothing could surprise her more than what happened then. Bolg took his hand from around her wrist and too surprised to react or find her balance, Tauriel fell onto the floor, sitting in the corner once again. Grimacing a little, she watched him step a bit aside. Her heart picked up its pace when he reached to the back of his loincloth. No. Not again, she thought, frowning, but he did not take this only part of clothing off. He only pulled something that looked like a rag tucked behind his cloth and tossed it in her direction. Unable to control her curiosity, she grasped it and unfolded only to realize that it was a not freshly laundered but still relatively clean dress.
Blinking, with her mouth open, she raised her eyes and let their glances cross. It was a bit amusing to see how proud of himself he was. However, she could not laugh at him. Feeling thankfulness grow in her heart against her own will, she pressed the garment to her chest, as if she was afraid that he would take it away from her if she did not hold it close.
"It... it is for me?" she asked quietly, still not really convinced that this man could have done something like this for her. After all, he was nothing but her abductor; and an abductor would never give their slave anything. This dress, however, was a beautiful one, and a couple of years before that it probably had been really exquisite. Now, though, a bit old, it had lost some of its charm, but lots of it still remained in it.
Without a word, the orc approached her once more and began undoing the shackles around her wrists. Her confusion grew even stronger as she felt that, but she dared not protest. When her hands were at last free, she began rubbing the dark marks on her skin, letting out a soft groan of relief. Although the chains were not that heavy, she was still not quite used to wearing them, and the cuffs kept hurting her.
"You can pull it on right now," he said, but after a moment that nasty smirk returned onto his face. "Unless you want to repeat what we had done last time."
However, since Tauriel was not willing to do anything like that to him (well, at least her mind did protest while her body yearned for his touch), she quickly pulled the dress onto her skin, now covered in dirt and dust. Oh, how she desired for a simple bath that would let her clean herself and relax a bit after this horror she had been through. Yet she did not think the orc would let her do that, so she would not even dare ask for it. For now, he still intimidated and scared her, and she felt she probably lost quite a lot just because of this fear. On the other hand, though, how could she not be afraid of him?
As soon as she finished, Bolg quickly slapped the cuffs back around her wrists, and she sighed, wondering when it would be when he could open them once more. Something told her, though, that it would not be soon, and that her short moment of almost-freedom was already over. She could not complain, however, for the dress was soft and she felt wonderfully comfortable when something covered her nudity.
Looking at her, the orc smiled with the same satisfaction as before; she was beautiful. Maybe one day he would manage to convince her to wear orcish clothing; if he did, he would bet that she would look even better than now. What he would never change in her looks was her hair. Although now it was tangled and matted, he was fascinated how long it was. And the colour was something he had never seen before. But since the orcs did not take baths, nor did they wash their hair, he did not know how to let them return to their original state. Maybe she was too scared. Maybe it was caused by her solitude.
Tauriel shivered. The way Bolg looked at her made her feel a little bit like a food would right before being eaten. She had no certainty that he would not take her despite her previous protests. After all, last time he had done that, she had begged him not to touch her, as well. Her thoughts wandered to the realms she could not stand, though, for she began wondering if it would really be so terrible if he did that. Her flesh missed his touch, even though her mind fought against him, but if she asked him to touch her that way, he would win. Even if she had admitted she wanted that when he had asked, it would have been his victory. And she could not allow that to happen.
There was silence between the two of them for a longer while, and for some reason, no longer did Tauriel feel alone. Just the other's presence next to her made her feel calm and strangely happy. He had not abandoned her. He still wanted her, maybe even more, if he had decided to give her presents, to care about her.
But now, as she thought about it, he had never been truly violent with her. He was an orc, and that made him a bit different than her, yes, but he only used her own fear and as much physical strength as it was necessary to make her stop opposing to her. He had never truly hurt her, though. Not physically. Maybe that was the reason why she had already got accustomed to his presence, and although scared of him in general, she was not afraid that he would do any harm to her if she was obedient.
However, it meant that she would have to be obedient, and this thought was not as pleasant. Her nature was fierce, and she had always been the one to stand against someone, even if she had had to listen to them without a word of protest. Even when it had been her own king, she had dared to give her own ideas how to solve certain problems instead of simply obeying the orders. That was something the elven king had appreciated, no matter how much it had irritated him. Yet now, she could not be sure that Bolg would be as thankful for her lack of obedience.
Not to mention that paying with her body for freedom and comfort seemed to be something terribly awful, and she could not do that.
Trapped between the desires of her flesh and the protests of her mind, she did not know what to do. Bolg, though, had by that time woken from his pondering, and it seemed that he was ready to help Tauriel decide what to do. For he had his own concept on that.
With a gasp, the elf looked to the side to realize that the orc had rolled the sleeve of her dress up and now was licking up her arm. She tried to pull her hand out of his own, but his grasp was too strong, and she could only hear a small cracking sound of her wrist. After a few more attempts, she sighed, resigned, and let Bolg finish close to her shoulder before taking care of her other arm, then each leg. Whenever he reached her thighs, she blushed deeply and turned her sight away, for it had already managed to arouse her.
It was embarrassing. Tauriel had realized that he had planned on nothing but cleaning her, and now, she had to fight against her own desire.
When Bolg licked her thigh one last time, she could hear a raspy chuckle, and she knew already that despite her prayers he had noticed how excited she had got. How could she not control her own body? She should have learnt how to do that; and yet, she was sitting before the monster who had abducted her, and kept her in a dark room, chained up and with no-one to accompany her but himself. Maybe he was trying to make her see him as her saviour... Maybe it was in his plans, to make her yearn for his presence. If he did plan that, he had already managed to wake this desire in her. Something, however, told her that it was not his point.
"Naughty little she-elf," he growled from between her legs, for some reason not moving away from her, although he had had plenty of time to leave not only this place but the room as well. But he had decided to stay there, apparently teasing her. "Already got so wet, so ready for her orc, even though she had told him she had not wanted him..."
This situation could not be more perplexing, and Tauriel really wanted to find herself somewhere away from this man, away from this place at all. As a man, and a person, he still did disgust her. Why, then, did his doings wake those parts of her body she had rarely thought of before she had met him...?
"I do not want you," she repeated, feeling the tips of her ears burn, the blush spreading from her cheeks to her neck. Her heart was fluttering in her chest, as if trying to escape from this cage. Oh, if she could escape from this prison as well... but both she and her heart were trapped now.
With a nasty chortle, Bolg shook his head, then began licking the insides of her thighs, even closer to her womanhood than before and a groan slipped past her lips. Gasping, she quickly pressed her hands to her mouth to prevent herself from moaning again, but it was enough for the man; he had heard her voice, and now looked up at her, grinning mischievously.
"Oh really?" he mocked. "Your body tells me something else... you want me very much, in spite of what you keep repeating... and what if I make you feel good again?" Leaning in, he led his tongue along her slit, making her tremble under his touch as her breath hitched. "What if I make you scream with pleasure like back then, when you claimed that you didn't want that? You know you enjoyed that; don't you dare lie to me. I can hear your lies."
There was no way Tauriel could admit that he was right; and although she knew that he was already aware of her blatant lies, she kept shaking her head. Only when he licked her once more, this time spreading the lips of her womanhood, she stopped, trying to find motivation to continue fighting this primal urge.
"N- no..." she whispered, even though her breath and the beating of her heart could betray her, just as the hesitant tone of her voice. "I do not want you... you cannot do that to me again, you monster," she clenched her teeth, but this time he did not react to her protests. Instead of that, he simply pushed her onto the floor, making her lie there flat, as he rolled her dress up and hung her legs on his shoulders. When he was prepared like that, he leant in once more, lapping his tongue and bringing even more moans and whimpers of pleasure from her rosy lips.
It did not last long – soon, she simply gave up to the pleasure. This time even sooner than the last time he had mated her. Last time, her body had not known the pleasure he could give her; now, she had yearned for it for so long.
Her hips began swaying in the rhythm of the motions of his tongue and she clenched her fingers on the chains, biting her bottom lip, hissing as she felt him claiming her even deeper and deeper, licking, kissing, sucking as if she was the first meal he had had in a very long time. It seemed he desired her just as much as she desired him, and whether she wanted it or not, she had to admit at least to herself that it was flattering.
Her climax came sooner than she would like it to come, arching her back and bringing a loud scream from her lungs. Lying there, breathless, she opened her eyes to watch Bolg straighten up and pull her dress back onto its place, what made her strangely disappointed. He licked his lips clean, then, having almost brutally put her legs back onto the ground, stood up, leaving her there trembling with desire and need.
That night would be a challenge for him, and he knew that, but it would be worth it; he would make sure of that. The next time he came there, she would be begging for him to touch her, and he would graciously grant it to her.
He would make her his in every possible way.