The Darkthorns: Reunion

by Marder

Larinowen Darkthorn heads out to Darkshore to find her MIA sister, Felliyinna Darkthorn.

DISCLAIMER

The following story contains references to various content from the game World of Warcraft, owned by Blizzard Entertainment. I claim credit for the story, but not anything in the story that originally belonged to Blizzard Entertainment.

Rated M for explicit rape, as well as graphic violence. Viewer discretion is heavily advised. You continue at your own risk, and are encouraged to stop at any point if you so wish.

Now with that hopefully out of the way…

Larinowen Darkthorn winced as a dry twig cracked loudly under her foot. She thought - she hoped - that there was nobody of potential danger nearby. Especially now.

Hundreds of years, she'd been traversing these woods. She knew the terrain of Darkshore better than she knew herself.

She still had her bow. How laughable that was, she thought to herself, but at least she'd also brought her small, one-handed sword. She used to be a deadly marksman with that bow. Now, she probably couldn't even hit the ground if she tried.

She didn't need anybody to tell her that she would never shoot it accurately again, she knew that. Nobody needed to tell her that she would need more than one eye to shoot properly, she knew that. She grabbed her bow from its place on her back, holding it in front of her with both hands. It was such a beautiful weapon… Her parents had ordered it custom made for her when she first became a Sentinel. Seven hundred years ago now, this bow had been with her. The only one like it in the world was her twin sister's bow, an exact duplicate of the weapon to match with the exact duplicate of herself. She couldn't imagine how many arrows she'd fired from this bowstring. How many targets she'd hit, bullseye's she'd gotten, lives she'd taken. Was all that really just… over?

Larinowen fell to her knees, dropping the bow on the ground as she covered her face with her hands and tried not to start crying. Inevitably, she failed. If anyone was nearby that miraculously hadn't heard that twig snap, they would certainly hear this, and Larinowen would die - but she couldn't stop.

Eventually, she regained control of herself. She struggled to her knees and snarled quietly. How strange. There was nobody and nothing around her. Was that what she was snarling at? Nothing? Or was it at herself? She didn't know.

Nothing was going to be gained by laying there feeling sorry for herself. She shook her head, as if to rid herself of these thoughts plaguing her. She didn't know where any of it was coming from - she'd never been one to show her emotions. At least, not unpleasant ones. She'd always been cheerful, constantly happy, always optimistic. She forced herself to smile. Smile, like she always had before any of this. She sighed and gave it up. She didn't need to see her reflection to know she had failed.

Larinowen rolled her eyes. Why did it matter what she looked like? That wasn't why she was here. She picked up her bow again, the powerful weapon totally useless in her hands, slung it over her back, and continued through Darkshore.

Larinowen crouched behind a tree, eyes - eye - narrowed as she gazed at the path.

She had found someone. Who they were, she had no idea. They were almost certainly Horde and very likely hostile. Once upon a time she could have been confident in her abilities to kill them if it came to that. Now, though? She didn't delude herself.

There was a great deal of sound coming from whoever was approaching. She figured there was more than one, but that was confirmation. Her heart was pounding so hard she would have sworn they could hear it. She slowly, quietly took a deep breath, and carefully let it back out, hoping it would calm her nerves at least somewhat. It helped. Somewhat.

They were close now. She could hear them. A loud conversation - the noises sounded almost gutteral. Orcs, then. She snarled. There was a distinct thud, every second or so. A kodo, maybe even two. Made sense. But what did they need kodos for?

Larinowen shook her head again. It didn't matter. She only had to wait for them to pass so she could continue her search. She stood and flattened her back against the tree as they began to slowly pass by. She could hear their conversation now. Even understand it - they were speaking in Common. Not Orcish? Why? She strained her ears, overcome by her curiosity.

"How many do you think we'll find?"

"Dunno. I didn't think we'd find any. I mean, who would be stupid enough to stick around here now? It would take a genuine idiot!"

"Yeah, well, what else do you expect from the tree elves?" She heard a loud bang. "Hear that, elf? You were a real moron, sticking around here! Ha ha ha!"

Larinowen's eyes widened. They had a captive. A Kal'dorei captive, no less. Her jaw hardened. Filthy Horde… She braced herself and looked around the side of the tree. She had to get a look.

The orcs were still talking, but they were too far away for her to still hear them clearly. She narrowed her eyes - eye - in a desperate attempt to see what was going on.

There was a cage. A large one. There were several, actually, being towed on wide wooden platforms on wheels. That's what the kodos were needed for, then. Two kodos, two platforms, four cages. Three of them were empty. The fourth held one prisoner, but she couldn't see anything more. She frowned. She couldn't just leave them there, whoever they were. She turned back behind the tree and started jogging into the woods, in the same direction as the convoy but far enough into the trees to not be detected. Couldn't have that, not now.

The leaves rustled underneath Larinowen's feet as she flew along the forest floor. Her eyes - eye - darted around madly, keenly watching the ground for any roots or large rocks. There were plenty, but she never tripped. Not her, not here. She vaulted easily over a fallen tree trunk, landing smoothly and transitioning into a roll to preserve her momentum before she spang to her feet and kept running. This had been her life for several hundred years. The Horde could rob her sight, but they could never rob her of this. She found herself smiling. She was beaming, really; a wide grin graced her face as her feet pounded on the dirt, and the wind beat her face and rushed past her ears.

A few minutes later, she came to a bend in the road. She skidded to a halt, digging small ruts into the ground with her heels, and bounced in place energetically. She almost laughed before she stopped herself, just barely remembering where exactly she was. She fell to her knees again, panting from her brief sprint, and crouched behind a tree as she waited for the convoy to catch up to her.

Another few minutes later, she heard the dull thud of the kodo's hooves to signal their approach. She slowed her breathing, calming her heartbeat to better focus on her target. She had much better success this time. She was in her element now. She smiled, briefly, before closing her eyes and focusing on listening for the orcs' conversation.

It was another minute before she could hear them clearly enough to know what they were saying, but by then they were speaking in Orcish anyway. She frowned. Definitely inconvenient, but not disastrous. She waited until she heard them pass slightly ahead of her, before peeking around the tree.

This was a much better view. Larinowen could clearly see the four cages, but she only paid attention to the one. From here, she saw that the captive was female, naked, and huddled onto the floor of the cage. Her figure was certainly attractive - Lar had to ignore the slight pang of jealousy that prodded the back of her mind. This was no time for thoughts like that. But nevertheless it persisted. She brushed a strand of her inky black hair out of her face, wishing it was instead by a nicer colour. Like that other elf's, with long dark blue hair cascading down her back. It looked remarkably like her sister's, which Lar had always envied.

Come to think of it, it looked exactly like her sister's…

No.

No.

But yes.

It was her. Unmistakeably now, Lar had no idea how she'd missed it. Fel's long dark blue hair, her long legs, unblemished by any imperfe- Wait. No, there was a difference. Her legs were now marred by a staggering number of cuts, bruises, and scabs.

Lar clenched her fist in fury. Such luck that she'd found her sister so soon, to be in the clutches of those… Those mongrels. She could only imagine what they had done to her, her own sister!

She almost ran out and attacked them then, such was her rage. But she stopped herself. Held herself back, just barely. It would be suicide.

She grabbed her bow, and slowly drew an arrow out from the quiver, but she stopped herself from doing that too. It would still be suicide, and for nothing. This thing was useless in her hands. She was useless. She couldn't do anything…

Something large slammed hard into her side.

Lar gasped as she was knocked hard to the ground. Her reflexes kicked in and upon landing ungracefully on the dirt she smoothly rolled with the momentum, skidding to a stop in a crouch and facing towards whatever had attacked her.

It was a male troll, a sneer barely decipherable on his face between his two massive, obnoxious tusks. He held two daggers, and was already running at her.

She waited until he was close, before she retaliated. She swung her legs in a wide arc, knocking his feet out from under him. He grunted and fell to the ground as she came to a stop, laying flat on her back. She watched the troll catch himself, saw one of his daggers knocked out of his hand, and saw him throw himself at her in a blind rage, trying to bring down the dagger on her throat.

If she could have, she would have rolled her eyes. She'd seen Kal'dorei that had failed to even qualify for training as a Sentinel, and they were still better fighters than this clown. She grabbed his wrists, rather easily keeping the deadly blade away from her neck. The troll snarled and leaned his weight into the attack. She brought her legs up to her body, huddled into a ball as she put her feet against his chest. With a minor grunt of exertion, she extended her legs and threw him off and behind her, hearing him slam into the ground with a gasp. She quickly leapt to her feet, turning around to finish him off.

She heard something. There was a commotion behind her. The troll was already down, so she risked a quick glance behind her. She couldn't afford to not know what was going on, not now.

There was a large bush a few feet behind her. It rustled ominously, before parting to reveal a large male orc, heavily armoured in bulky Horde plate and carrying a massive battleaxe.

This was not a fight she would win, Lar saw that immediately. She looked to her right, already turning her body to run, before she saw there was another orc in that direction to cut her off. She looked to her left. Another one. There wasn't room between them for her to run through, they would catch her easily before she got away.

She was trapped.

She had only one option left - go down spitefully. She felt tears threatening to fall. She blinked them back. Quickly, she turned back to the troll, who was still laying on the ground wheezing. Pathetic. She leapt onto him, slamming her foot into his wrist to disarm his remaining dagger. He shouted in pain. She leaned down, grabbing him by his two tusks and hauling him bodily to his feet, spinning him around and getting him in front of her, holding him in a choke hold with an arm around his neck, squeezing hard enough to cut off his breathing as her other hand held a tusk. The orcs had surrounded her at this point, all snarling and holding their weapons. One of them started speaking in broken, heavily accented and difficult to understand Common.

"Kill him, elfie, and we wi-"

She wrenched her hand to the side hard, yanking him by his tusk. His head turned 90 degrees before stopping, briefly, and she heard a sickening crunch as his neck snapped like the dry twig from only a few minutes ago. The troll went limp as he died instantaneously.

The orcs roared, and all three of them charged.

Larinowen tried to open her eyes, but promptly gave up. She softly groaned. Her head felt like it was being split open, the pounding headache was that bad.

CLANG

Larinowen shrieked, and her eyes shot open immediately. She heard laughter, and words in Orcish.

She reflexively sprang to her feet, but her legs buckled underneath her and she crashed back down to the floor. She screamed in pain, and looked at her legs in horror. Both were covered with bruises and cuts even worse than Fel's, and her left was obviously broken. She desperately tried to hold back tears as she finally started feeling the pain. She would not, could not start crying in front of these orcs, these fucking orcs. But as she came to more awareness, she started feeling the rest of her body as well, which was no different. She tried leaning on her arms, but they were both broken and she fell flat on her face. She gritted her teeth again as she failed in controlling herself, and broke out in sobs.

The laughter got louder. She dimly registered what she assumed were jeers from her captors, but she passed out within moments anyway.

Thud.

The arrow slammed into the target with a satisfying slam, quivering to a halt to rest ominously dead centre within the bullseye.

Fel glanced sideways at her sister Lar with a triumphant smirk. "Top that," she taunted as she held out the bow to her side. Lar rolled her eyes and accepted the weapon, along with the arrow Fel also offered, and gestured with her head for Fel to move.

She stepped aside, watching as her sister took her place to make her own shot. Lar settled into her stance with the confidence that was due to her after her hours upon hours upon hours of training, smoothly raising the weapon and drawing back her arm, and with it the bowstring. Fel released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

Thud.

Fel stared in silent shock as her own arrow was split straight down the middle by her sister's, the identical halves bent on each side. Lar slowly lowered the bow, handing it back to her sister with her own, vastly superior smirk.

"Top that."

Lar came back to consciousness slowly, almost stubbornly, as if she was trying to cling to the relative safety of the darkness, where the orcs couldn't hurt her.

She could hear a faint gagging as she opened her eyes, but couldn't pinpoint where it was coming from or bring herself to care.

The first thing she noticed was that her arms were working. Clearly one among them had healing capabilities, and they had seen fit to mend her arms after they had been the ones to deliberately break them. She held back a scowl in favour of gaining awareness of her surroundings first. As she sat up, she had to hold back a grin instead at how surprisingly limber she felt. Whoever healed her had done a good job - too good a job. Which meant either they were overestimating themselves, or underestimating her. Either one worked. She looked around.

Lar's single remaining eye widened in horror.

Felliyinna Darkthorn, her lost sister that she'd come here in order to find, was on her knees on the grass outside her cage, sucking a naked orc's cock.

Lar had to resist the urge to vomit, an urge that kept getting stronger. Now she understood what the gagging was - which she could now hear much more clearly, and it was growing louder. Coupled with clearly distinct moans - coming from the orc, and from Fel, she yet again failed to control herself and vomited through the bars of her cage and onto the grass below. She heard no jeers, taunts, or laughs from her captors, suggesting to her this time that they either hadn't noticed, or hadn't cared.

She rolled over onto her side and began to sob again, trying desperately to ignore the distinct and disgusting sucking noises she could hear from her sister.

"I can't believe this is all there is to becoming a sentinel."

"What did you think it would be like, Lar?"

"I don't know, just something… more. At the very least I had expected to have to put in some effort."

Fel scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Sometimes, Lar, things don't come as easy to others as they do to you."

"Oh, sure they do. Just maybe not these things. Different things."

"Like what?"

She shrugged. "How should I know? I'm good at this, I guess. Other people have their own things. Like you and flirting."

"Oh, please. I'm not that good at it."

"You're joking, right? Do you not see how they fawn over you? Actual fawns aren't even that bad."

Fel hid a smirk behind her hand. Of course she knew. "Maybe it's my natural charm."

"Uh huh, sure it is."

"What? I can't help it if I'm prettier than you." She leaned away from her sister's playful swipe at her head with a giggle. "Say, do you know why this arrow feels so weird? I think the balance is off, but I don't know why."

"Give it here. Oh, yeah. It's one of mine. Of course it's weighted differently."

"How can you tell?"

"Because I weight them differently." Now it was Lar's turn to duck under a mock punch. "And because I mark them. See here? The little ribbon of black cloth by the fletching."

"Oh, I see. You do that to all of them?"

"Yes."

"Should I do that?"

"Not with black, but yes. Try blue, to match your hair."

"Have you found any of mine?"

"About seven."

"Well give them here!"

"Come get them!"

The two sisters immediately dropped their quivers, leaving the arrows they hadn't yet finished gathering embedded in the targets as the elves disappeared running into the forest, laughing loudly as the chase ensued.

It was the rocking that got to her the most.

It wasn't being naked, since the orcs had at some point stripped her of all her armour, weapons, and even clothes. No, that was only occasionally unbearable, whenever any of the dozen orcs would leer hideously at her.

It wasn't knowing what her sister had been doing. No, she'd been doing stuff like that for hundreds of years - although it was very considerably worse now that there were orcs involved.

It wasn't knowing that Fel seemed to enjoy it - but that did come very, very close.

No, it was the rocking. The almost constant, ceaseless, unending rocking.

Lar found that perplexing. She had thought she knew what constant movement was like from all the running she used to do when she was a sentinel, chasing and being chased through the woods of Teldrassil, Darkshore, and Ashenvale for near hours at a time. It had always been intense, even for her. But this…

The way the kodos lumbered along unevenly, as the cart jolted from a stop to a start every few seconds with the steps of the great beasts, bouncing overtop small tree roots or falling into the occasional rut, sending her stumbling for balance every now and then and forcing her to be kept awake for hours every night as she tried to sleep… It was the worst torture she could imagine.

She tried not to think about it as she sat huddled into a ball on the floor of her cage, eye staring angrily at the only other occupied cage, the one containing the sister she'd thought she knew. Felliyinna, though, was laying down and facing away from her, and seemed unresponsive. Her long, beautifully blue hair still contained noticeable occasional splotches of white from their previous stop half an hour ago. The orcs seemed content to, at least for now, continue ignoring Lar in favour of her more beautiful and doubtless more experienced sister, but she knew that would change eventually.

Lar had lost track of time. She knew for a fact it had been at least a week. She thought it was closer to a month. It had felt like three.

The monotony was to thank for that, she knew. The orcs were still almost always ignoring her, except for whenever they fed her. Of course, the only thing they gave her was a bowl of grey sludge that looked and tasted disgusting, but it was food. Only one thing had broken the endless routine so far.

They had happened upon another female night elf, scavenging for berries. She'd ran away when the orcs approached, but they chased her into the woods. She'd been much prettier than Lar, from what she'd seen, so Lar had no doubt as to the fate that had awaited the poor girl. The orcs eventually returned, holding high her decapitated head, face stuck forever in an expression of complete terror.

Lar had been so angry she'd screamed at them until her throat was hoarse and raw, and punched the bars until every finger on both her hands was broken and she was sobbing herself to sleep again, which only made the orcs laugh uproariously. The next morning, she'd found herself healed once more.

And after that, things returned to what Lar had come to think of as normal. She still hadn't managed to exchange even a single word with Fel, not that she wanted to. Her stupid sister hadn't even been willing to meet her gaze this entire time.

She'd been starting to understand their conversations.

Lar had never thought she would be learning Orcish, but here she was, staring lifelessly at the floor of her cage as her long, pointed ears listened keenly to every syllable they spoke.

They kept underestimating her. She had to force herself to maintain her idiotic face with no reaction to anything. Every sentence, phrase, greeting, direction, order, every blasted word that they spoke, she heard it. She didn't understand all of it, not yet. But she would.

She spoke Common better than some humans. She'd learned Thallassian, just because she'd felt like it. She'd even learned Dwarven for a trip she'd taken to Ironforge once, on vacation. And if it helped her chances of escape even modestly, then by Elune she was going to learn Orcish too.

Lar glared venomously at Tusk as he grinned in self-satisfaction, pulling up his pants as he walked back to the front of the convoy. Perhaps luckily, he didn't notice.

She hadn't wanted to name them. With a name came an attachment, she knew that, but she didn't know what their actual names were - nor would she ever find out - and she needed some way to tell them apart.

Therefore, she had named them after the most easily noticeable and most defining trait she could see at a glance. The one with a broken tusk became Tusk. The one with an eyepatch became Eye. One of them kept his hair tied in long, semi-elegant braids that came down past his shoulders, so he was Braids. So on, so forth, for each of the remaining nine.

Sometimes she fantasized about how she would kill each of them. She remembered when she killed the troll, snapping his neck like a dry twig. That might work on Tusk, except that his were a lot shorter, especially the broken one. And every single one of the orcs, without exception, was much stronger than the troll and even her. Larger, too. A direct attack would never work.

If she could get out into the woods, she could find some poisonous berries within maybe half an hour and kill them that way. But she knew that would never happen.

Every night, her cage was locked. All day, her cage was locked. She had no weapons, armour, not even clothes, and they were all armed to the teeth.

She almost had the thought that she would never get out of here before she forced it back down. She would escape, she swore it on Elune.

Felliyinna's cart rumbled to a stop, and once again she finally experienced stillness and quiet for the first time in hours.

She knew it wouldn't last, but even still she let herself smile at the brief moment of calm.

The door of her cage opened with a loud squeal of rusted metal. She forced herself to keep smiling as she sat up, looking at her orc captors with a lifeless gaze and empty grin. "Is it playtime?"

They laughed derisively. She felt the usual flicker of hatred, but she ignored it. She had not come this far to falter now. She'd spent so long convincing them she'd been broken, and she'd be damned if she let anything jeopardize that now… even her sister.

One of the orcs beckoned, and Fel turned around to crawl out of the cage toward him on her hands and knees. The rest of them cackled, and she heard a whistle. It's going to be hard to whistle at me with a knife through your neck, you disgusting mongrel. "Oh, goody… I'm so excited. Playtime is so fun." She wanted to kill them. She wanted to kill herself, for what she'd become in order to survive. But she was too far gone now to second-guess herself.

She hopped out of the cage onto the ground, as the orcs leered. Settling onto her knees, she laid her hands in her lap and opened her mouth wide. They laughed all the louder, as the first one unbuckled his armour and shed the rest of his clothes, taking his erect, green manhood and shoving it into her mouth.

It tasted as disgusted and felt as slimy as it always did, but she forced down her disgust and sucked as hard as she could, slathering it with her tongue. She could feel her sister watching in disgust, disgust that she shared but couldn't show. She wanted so badly to bite down, but she wanted even more badly to live, and get the chance to share her suffering with these beasts who inflicted it - who were inflicting it still.

It took only a few minutes until the orc grunted and grabbed her head, shoving her down deeper onto his cock and giving her a face full of pubic hair. She gagged and closed her eyes in disgust - this part never got easier. The orc roared as he finally released, spurting all of his thick, salty seed into her mouth. She wanted to vomit.

When he finally pulled her away from his manhood, she had to force herself not to spit it out onto the grass; the grass didn't deserve that. Instead, she made a show of opening her mouth to show him that it was indeed full of his semen, before gulping it all down at once. The orcs whooped and whistled and cheered. She swore to herself that she would kill them all for this, but by now she'd lost count of how many times she'd made that promise. Instead, she opened her mouth again and stuck out her tongue, smiling. "Who's next?"

They were looking at her. Why were they looking at her.

It started with Beard. After one of their stops, and after Fel had finished sucking them all off and was thrown back into her cage, his eyes had wandered over to her, and he seemed to start in surprise. As if he'd forgotten about her, which he probably had. Most of them probably had.

But then he'd whispered something to the others, and now all twelve of them were staring at her, naked and huddled into a ball in the furthest corner of her cage. And she didn't like that. She narrowed her eyes at them, but eventually Braids made some comment about how she looked rotten and would probably end up making them sick in the morning, like spoiled milk. The rest of them laughed and walked away.

Lar sighed in relief. She tried to look at her sister, but Fel was laying on her back, panting in exhaustion.

Lar's ear twitched. Something seemed familiar.

In the next instant she heard a scream of agony ripped out of an orcish throat. She bolted upright immediately and looked around. She quickly found the source; Plain (named that way for his overwhelming lack of anything noticeable; no facial hair, no noteworthy haircut, and his smooth, obviously very young face) was laying on the ground, an arrow protruding from an eye socket. He was very clearly dead.

Lar felt such an intense feeling of happiness at the sight that she almost cried in sheer joy.

The orcs around her started screaming in fury. One of them roared and, after grabbing his axe, charged into the woods. Lar looked at the treetops, to see exactly what she'd been hoping to see; a night elven figure hunched in a treetop, holding a bow. She couldn't make out any details from this far away, but she saw the Kal'dorei turn around and leap away to escape. Lar smiled in satisfaction. The rest of the orcs followed the first, stampeding into the woods in a blind rage. Her cage was locked, obviously, so she couldn't escape, but right now she didn't care. She stared at the orcish corpse, contenting herself with that.

It must have been an hour later when the orcs finally returned to the convoy. They were all, without exception, scowling and clenching their fists in just barely contained anger. She'd never seen them like this, and she knew the best idea would be to try not to be noticed and hope they'd calm down eventually.

But she couldn't resist.

"The sound of an arrow flying true is the most beautiful thing, don't you all agree?"

All eleven of them whipped around to face her, glaring in now-unrestrained malice. In that instant, she realized that she'd made a terrible mistake.

— Alright, you'll wanna skip past this.

"It's damn past time she was screaming like the other one."

He was speaking in Orcish, but by now she spoke it well enough to understand. Her eyes widened in terror as the insinuation dawned on her, and she scrambled backwards against the edge of her cage.

"Come here, you stupid elven slut! Let's see how many cocks will fit in that big mouth of yours!"

She regretted having learned Orcish. She tried to back away further but she was already at the edge, and as they opened the door of her cage for the first time since they captured her, she understood what fear felt like.

"Come here! It's time to get fucked senseless, you dumb elf!"

As Tusk leaned into the cage and reached for her, she turned around and grabbed the bars of her cage. She felt the orc's hand close around her ankle and start dragging her with alarming strength, and as tight as she held on her grip was overpowered almost immediately, as she was pulled across the floor of her cage towards him.

"No! No, please! Leave me alone, please!"

"Shut up!"

Lar wailed in terror as she was hoisted out of her cage and thrown to the ground, positioned on her hands and knees. The tears that were already flowing freely were doubled, and she screamed in agony as the orc shoved his manhood inside her, shattering her virginity without even blinking.

Fel closed her eyes, trying to fight down her tears as she was forced to listen to her sister's shrieks of despair, and to Lar cursing Elune in every way she could think of, cursing Fel herself for doing nothing, and of course cursing the orcs most of all.

By the half hour mark her screams would give out, as her throat became too hoarse to continue. The orcs seemed to have endless stamina, however, and she eventually stopped noticing whenever they reached their climax again and again and again. She eventually stopped feeling their fat, disgusting green erections inside her. She eventually stopped hearing their dirty talk, degrading her and calling her a whore, a slut, a stupid elf. She eventually stopped crying, likely because there were no more tears left to shed. Finally, she even stopped thinking about how she would kill them, or about why Felliyinna wasn't helping her, or about why Elune wasn't helping her, or about anything.

And eventually, she simply stopped. Entirely.

— Continue from here.

Felliyinna finally let herself smile. Truly smile, in genuine happiness. It was almost ecstasy. Feeling the orc blood cover her hand made her quite possibly the happiest she'd felt in… ever.

She almost couldn't believe how stupid they had been. They'd exhausted themselves so much on Lar that, after leaving her sister basically comatose and laying in her cage with orc seed covering her face to the point of unrecognizability, they'd forgotten to lock her own cage as well. She almost laughed. Whether they had simply forgotten or genuinely thought she was broken to their will, she still could hardly believe it, even as she walked over to the fifth of her slumbering rapists, Lar's pilfered and blood-soaked blade hanging loosely from her own blood-soaked hand. She silently kneeled next to him, sliding the sword across his neck. They had been keeping this thing well-sharpened. It felt astonishingly smooth to slit his throat. Easiest thing she'd ever done. He never even woke up. She did wish she could have made him suffer, though.

As she stood over the next orc, she glanced towards Lar, laying on the floor of her cage. She looked as though she were asleep, although she didn't appear to be breathing. Fel scowled. If her sister had been the cost for her freedom then that was a price worth paying in her eyes, but even still…

She looked down at the next orc to kill, to find him looking back. He opened his mouth and screamed.

Fel dropped to her knees and stabbed the sword into his throat in a desperate attempt to cut off his shout before the others woke up. The tip of the blade separated the flesh of his neck easily and went further and further in, until she felt the weapon shudder when the very point abruptly stopped upon reaching bone. His cry ceased with a horrible gurgle, and she felt the tiniest sliver of satisfaction at knowing that his last moments were filled with fear - fear of her.

She heard a roar. She looked behind her to see one of the orcs already rushing at her with a sword, even though he was naked. She could see the others behind him reaching for their weapons. She sneered in contempt.

The orc swung the sword down at her from over his head powerfully, probably doubting she could dodge it and thinking she would be cut in half. She stepped to the side neatly, and it thudded into the grass to her right. The orc reacted surprisingly quickly, swivelling in place to put his body weight behind the sword as he slashed at her. She reacted just as fast, flipping over it and watching as the weapon kept going, having too much momentum to stop. She shoved her own blade into the orc's stomach, withdrew it and stepped away. He fell to the ground; he was probably already dead.

Another orc came sprinting toward her, this one holding an axe. She thought this was the eighth, but it hardly changed anything. He held his weapon behind him, readying it for a devastating swing. She wanted to roll her eyes. Instead she stood there, wishing she had armour - or even clothes. But after however long it had been - coming up on five months - of them abusing her daily, she'd long since stopped caring. And as long as they all died here, now, by her hand, she'd be happy.

The orc swung his axe. She glanced quickly at the blade, flying straight for her waist and having enough power behind it to cut her in half.

She took a step forward.

She saw the orc's eyes widen in surprise and panic as his strike was rendered useless now that she was in too close range for it to hit her. She grasped the handle of the axe with her spare hand and shoved it backwards, feeling it fly out of his grasp and hearing it thud on the grass. She acted quickly, taking advantage of his momentary shock and slashing her own sword quickly across his wrist, waist, chest, and finally cutting deep into his face. Blood gushed freely from the final strike and she blinked as it sprayed across her face. She hopped backwards as the orc's corpse fell flat to the ground. She had already stopped paying any attention to it.

She looked up, expecting to see the last three charging her at once, but was astonished to see none of them doing that. She could only see two of them, and they were both running away into the woods. Her hand clenched her sword harder in fury. They could not get away, not after all they had put her through. They would not escape. She leapt over the dead orcs in front of her and started running after them.

They had no chance of outpacing her in the forest. They were fools to even think that, much less attempt it. She smiled at the feeling of air rushing past her as she flew after them in a dead sprint, bare feet rustling the grass and leaves underneath her. The wind felt amazing against her naked body, immeasurably better than she remembered. She could see that she was gaining on the orcs, and gaining fast.

As soon as she was within range, she reached out a hand and grabbed the wrist of the one in the back, trying to whirl him around to stab him in the heart - but he was expecting that! As soon as her hand closed around his, he skidded to a halt and threw himself backwards, trying to body-slam her hard. He almost succeeded; her eyes widened in surprise and she just barely stepped aside in time, watching as he fell past her and collided hard with the ground.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the last one rushing at her. Tried to grab her, maybe to push her away from his fallen friend. She didn't know and cared even less. She shoved away one hand and her blade whirled, cutting straight through his wrist. He cried out in agony and stepped back, clutching at his new stump. She kicked him in the chest and saw him stumble and trip before she turned her back to the other orc on the ground.

He was trying to get up, but she stomped him hard in the side and he wheezed in pain. She jumped on top of him, straddling him like she had so many times before, more than she could count, more than she wanted to think about. It didn't help that they were both naked this time too, and she could feel his hardened muscles between her legs on either side of his stomach. It brought back memories too recent to forget, of her riding orcs to a climax as she moaned wantonly like a whore and fondled herself for their enjoyment, feeling them splatter their seed inside her and knowing it was leaking out from between her legs. But this time was different. Now, she had a sword, a sword that was wet with the blood of his friends and would soon be wet with his.

She raised it above her head and brought it plunging toward his chest, but he raised his hand to grab the weapon before it could pierce his flesh. He winced in pain as he cut himself on the blade, feeling the blood drip from his hands and loosening his grip, but he knew he couldn't let go or she'd kill him. This insane elf on top of him, with hands covered red with blood and a deranged grin on her blood-splattered face, was about to kill him. He snarled and pushed her sword away from him.

Fel frowned. He was physically stronger than her, she knew that, but he was exhausted from his recent sex marathon with her sister, and on top of that he just woke up, and she was on top of him. She snarled in turn and raised one hand, slamming it onto the hilt of her sword floating in between them. It jolted and dropped toward the orc. She grinned in imminent triumph and did it again, feeling it just barely pierce his flesh. She felt the resistance wane as his grip grew weaker. She smiled widely in delight as she raised her hand once more, slamming the sword deep into his body. She knew it had pierced his heart when his grip disappeared entirely, and his hands slumped to his side.

She stood up, feeling a particular sense of strange enjoyment at seeing his manhood, tiny and limp between his legs. It looked so miserable and pathetic, just like him. She looked to the side, seeing the final orc on his knees nearby, crying as he hunched over his missing hand. She stared in disgust. After all he'd done, all the monstrous things he'd done to her over the past months, he had the nerve - the audacity - to cry?! She gritted her teeth in fury and walked behind him, gripping his hair in one hand and raising his head as she brought her sword around and slit his throat. His sobbing stopped abruptly.

She left the bodies there as she walked back towards the camp. She felt a strange sense of… Of what? She couldn't tell. Of nothing? Yes, that was it. Nothing. She felt nothing.

She found that strange. She'd spent months fantasizing about this. It was the only thing her life had become. So why didn't she feel anything anymore? Even sadness. They'd gangraped her sister, seemingly to death, but she couldn't find it in her to be upset about that. Why didn't it bother her? Why couldn't she feel anything? Just what had this made of her?

She only remembered about the eleventh and last remaining orc when she walked back to the convoy, finding him standing with a greatsword in his hands as her sister knelt on the ground in front of him, hands hanging limply by her sides as he thrusted his hips in and out of her wide open mouth. She made no sounds as he did so, didn't even move. She was still alive, that much Fel could see, but her eyes were empty, far emptier than Fel's had ever been. It was like… there was genuinely nothing left of her.

The orc looked up upon hearing her calmly walk into the area, grinning as best he could around his tusks, only one of which was actually intact. He started saying something, speaking in broken and heavily accented Common. "I think we broke her!" He threw back his head and laughed.

Felliyinna felt something again. Somewhere inside her, there was a spark of anger. The spark caught fire. And the fire started growing.

"There's a real big mouth on this one. Glad we finally put it to a better use than talking shit!" She clenched her fist around the handle of her sword. "Sure was a surprise when we found out she could fit two of us at once with just this one hole! Ha ha ha!" She could barely see anything - everything looked red. "Such a slut - even more so than you. I think I might keep her."

Felliyinna took a step forward.

The orc reached down and shoved Lar's head away from his manhood, yanking her to her feet and turning her around. He hefted the greatsword as he turned his undivided attention to Felliyinna. "Take another step and she gets it." Fel stopped and looked at her beloved sister, her closest and at times her only companion for seven hundred years.

Lar didn't have any reaction. Even the tiniest hint. She didn't blink, didn't close her mouth, didn't look around, didn't sit down or turn around or run away from the orc or anything.

Fel closed her eyes, tightened her grip on her sword, and suddenly started sprinting towards him.

The orc swung his sword at Larinowen. The blade cut deep into and across her back, from her left shoulder to the right side of her waist. Blood gushed out of the undoubtedly mortal wound and she fell forwards to the ground without a word, but Fel didn't blink. She lowered her body to the ground and curved around her likely dead sister, headed straight for the orc. He swung his sword at her too, in the same way, but she dodged underneath it. In the next second, she was in front of him.

She slammed her foot onto his knee, hearing it snap as she forced it to bend in a way it definitely wasn't intended to and emit a sickening crack. He howled in pain, but she wasn't done. She cut her own sword deep into and across his stomach, causing him to scream - but she still wasn't satisfied. She grabbed his right wrist, raising his arm high as she stabbed her bloody blade into his gut, as deep as she could. If he wasn't dead already he would be very soon, but she wasn't done yet. She screamed as she shoved the weapon forward, and it came sliding out of his body behind him as his blood followed from the gaping wound in a fountain. He was undoubtedly dead, but she didn't stop. She let out an unearthly wail, all the sound she hadn't made all night, every ounce of grief and fury and hatred she'd been saving up for five months all came pouring out of her as she stepped in front of him and her sword struck again. This time the cut began in the centre of his chest before continuing upwards and diagonally, slicing deep into flesh yet again as it came out between his neck and left shoulder. The orc fell to his knees in death but she didn't register it, driving her knee hard into his face. She heard his nose break with a loud and horrific crunch, felt his broken tusk cut into her knee and draw blood, but she didn't care. She screamed and stabbed him in the chest and shoved all her weight and strength behind it, burying the weapon all the way to the hilt inside the dead orc. The corpse fell backwards, thudding onto the grass that immediately became red and slick with blood as it kept pouring out of the many wounds in his body, from his knee to his side to his neck and his chest, it just kept coming as it formed a spreading pool of blood underneath him. Felliyinna dropped to her knees and screamed again, long and loud into the uncaring, unresponsive night.

A minute later she stood up again, scrambling to the side of her sister, the sister she'd loved and hadn't even tried to save. The gaping wound on her back was bleeding as much as any of the orc's own wounds were, as she lay face-down on the grass. She hadn't even made a sound when he'd opened her up with a sword. Felliyinna's tears flowed freely, more than she could remember crying in months. She didn't know where any of this had come from. Maybe it was everything she'd kept shoved down during her ruse to fool the orcs. She brought her hands up to grasp at her hair, tainting the brilliant blue with the blood-red she'd covered herself in tonight as she sobbed long and hard.

She didn't know how much time passed before she looked up - it could have been an hour or a minute - but when she did, what she saw was a beam of moonlight streaming down from the sky onto her sister's nearly-dead body, basking it in a silver glow. Fel stared in shock through her tear-streamed face as the injury the orc had dealt to Lar was slowly healed. The blood faded away from her otherwise clear skin and the grass below her until both returned to their previous colour. The cut began to close itself, and finally the glow of the moon faded, and Fel's stare changed from shock to horror. "By Elune…" she uttered quietly, not seeming to realize the irony of the phrase given the situation.

Larinowen was seemingly alive, but she was evidently not saved. This was the first time Fel had gotten a proper look at her sister, and it was the most terrible thing she'd seen maybe ever.

Lar's back was absolutely covered in downright horrific burn scars, the flesh pocked and twisted as glaring evidence of its ordeal. She had obviously not escaped Teldrassil in time, and the fire had nearly killed her. How it hadn't Fel had no idea - whoever healed her must have been unbelievably skilled - but though it was unsuccessful in killing her, it was clearly not for a lack of effort and it had gone out spitefully, permanently marking her in the worst way it could for the rest of her life.

On top of that, the wound from the orc was not gone - it was healed, but not gone. A large, bumpy scar travelled along her entire back, diagonally from her left shoulder to the right side of her waist. It was borderline hideous to the point that it made her want to vomit to look at, and she almost did. Lar was still unconscious - although now there were clear signs of life through her renewed and steady breathing - but Fel had no idea how she was going to explain to her sister what had happened when she woke up.

Larinowen opened her eyes.

She was laying on her stomach on top of a sleeping bag. Groaning softly, she rolled over and sat up in the same motion, raising her head to look around her.

She saw the sky. The dominating, demanding darkness of the night, broken only by the occasional star.

The stars. She saw them, too. Miniscule but magnificent motes of light, dotted here and there.

She swivelled her head to get a look at her surroundings, and saw more.

She saw the trees - tall, towering things that dominated the area, reaching high towards that sky.

She saw the campfire nearby, and she saw the spit of unidentifiable meat roasting above the flames, the flames that flickered and flashed furiously and spread warmth all around.

And she saw Felliyinna.

Her face broke out in a wide smile. "Fel! Oh, how wonderful to see you, I've missed you so much!"

Her sister didn't have any reaction. She was sitting on a log, leaning against her knees and clasping her hands together while she stared into the fire, seeming to see both nothing and things that Lar couldn't ever hope to. Strangely, she was naked. Lar felt the usual slight pang of jealousy she always felt when she beheld her sister's nigh-perfect body. But… something seemed different. Fel was off somehow. And the closer Lar looked, the more she saw.

Fel was covered in bruises. Most of them were subtle, but nonetheless there. A large number were concentrated on her voluptuous breasts, as if someone had mauled them with no concern for their owner. There were more along her arms, and yet more - although not as many - all over her legs. There were a couple around her neck, which appeared to be either the most recent or the worst and most lasting, for they were still a glaring deep purple.

"Did you hear what I said?"

Lar started - she hadn't realized her sister had spoken. She shook her head and met Fel's eyes, and immediately shrunk away. They were cold, so very cold. Not distant, but instead seeming to be uncaring. There even seemed to be a tinge of hostility.

"I said, how much do you remember?"

"Oh. Uh, well…"

She thought about it. The last thing she could remember was leaving Stormwind to head to Darkshore and search for her sister. This was obviously Darkshore, so evidently she had succeeded. Maybe she'd made a camp that Fel had stumbled onto. But why couldn't she remember any of it? "Leaving Stormwind to search for you."

"You don't remember… any of it? Anything?"

"No, I- What don't I remember?"

Fel swore. That was strange - swearing was unlike her. "You… you don't want to know."

"Fel, tell me."

"Please don't make me."

Lar blinked. In all the over seven hundred years she and her sister had lived, she had never known Fel to let anyone "make her" do anything, not once. When her mind was made up she was immovable, and if she didn't want to do something then she would die on that hill, no matter how small. Something about Fel was different - wrong. Unsettlingly so. "Fel, tell me."

Fel shook her head silently. Lar's smile was long gone by now as she fully sat up, not even noticing she was also naked. "Fel, I need to know."

"You don't know what you're asking."

"Obviously I don't know, that's the point."

"You don't get it!" Fel finally raised her head properly, as her voice suddenly raised to a shriek. Lar was stunned. They had never yelled at each other in… she didn't know. "You can't imagine what this is like for me! To know that you can't remember any of it… You can't imagine how badly I wish I cou-" Her voice faltered when she suddenly choked up, tears springing unabashed to her face, which she collapsed into her hands as she began to sob.

Lar was silent. It was obviously something bad, but she couldn't remember it and Fel didn't want her to. She tried to think back. She could sense that there was time after her departure from the human city she couldn't account for, but when she tried to think about it all she found was a sort of wall in her mind, blocking away everything. No matter how hard she tried to get past it, it wouldn't budge; it was as if her mind didn't want her to go there any more than Felliyinna did.

"Lar, will you ever give up trying to find out?"

"No. I don't need to remember - I'll take your word that it's too bad to do that. But I need to know about it."

Her sister didn't respond for a long, long moment after that, only sniffling occasionally and wiping away the stray tear as she regained control of herself. Lar sat patiently. At some point she realized she was naked, but didn't care. It made no difference, especially not now.

Fel eventually raised her head again, her own teary eyes meeting Lar's. Her gaze was very different now; it was more pitiful, maybe mournful? "If you're really sure about wanting to know, then… Alright, how about this. Copy what I do." Fel raised her arm, reaching behind her to touch her back at her left shoulderblade. Lar did the same thing.

She felt a bump - a large one. She frowned; that hadn't been there before. She felt around it, eyes slowly widening as she discovered the rough, pocked flesh from her deducible brush with death, obviously in the Burning. She found that the bump continued; it was a line. She followed it, eyes widening further in abject horror as it kept going, going and going and going, all the way down her torso. Eventually she couldn't reach it with her left hand so she switched to her right, finding that it went all the way to the right side of her waist before it ended, confined entirely to her back. All along it, the rough signature of flame followed, until she branched out to discover where it ended - only to discover that it didn't. She tried to look at it, but her head couldn't turn that far and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't see it - but she could feel it. She knew it was there. Instead she looked at Fel, but Fel couldn't see her - her sister was staring into the fire again. Lar glanced at the flames, but they only hurt her eye; whatever it was Fel was looking at, Lar couldn't see that either.

She collapsed her head into her hands and started crying.

Felliyinna watched her sister march off into the woods. Lar didn't look back. That was good. That way, she didn't see Fel scowling.

She kept telling herself it was for the best. Mostly, she believed that, but there was still some small part deep down that felt guilty for lying to her sister about what had actually happened.

Fel hadn't elaborated at all after Lar had discovered her new horrific scars, fearing desperately that she'd ask. Thankfully, she hadn't, and Fel didn't have to face the stress of coming up with longer, more elaborate lies in order to hide the truth. This way was better. She should never have to know about what happened, and now she never would.

Fel turned around and headed back to her small campsite in the woods. Neither of them had any clothes - the orcs had burned them - so as Lar walked away, she had to look at the horrible scars marring her sister's back. She didn't want to have to see those ever again.

She wondered what Stormwind would be like. She knew Lar would be fine - she'd been to Ironforge before, and she'd been fine then. Fel had only managed to persuade her to go by promising to follow her to the human city some day, and find her - wherever she was - for a visit. But other than that, their paths were separate from here on out. It was better this way.

She hoped she'd be able to keep her promise eventually. But not now… She had her own journey to go on now. She'd been randomly bursting into intense fits of sobbing ever since she'd killed the orcs and regained her freedom, and she didn't know why. If she wasn't sad she was angry… Angry with herself for what she'd turned herself into, with Elune for not helping her, with the now rotting corpses of her orcish tormentors, even though she'd gotten her revenge against them. She didn't know who she was anymore, and she certainly couldn't go to a city full of strangers when even she was a stranger too.

She didn't know when she'd see her sister again. Couldn't even be sure that she should. This reunion had been a terrible enough experience already.

She sat down on her log, once more gazing absentmindedly into the fire, staring at nothing.