HANDS
Author: coulduseprozac or simon22cat depending on my mood
Rating: R
Genre: Crossover BtVS/LoTR; Het Romance
Pairing: Willow/Haldir
Warnings: NAME CALLING; VIOLENCE; ATTEMPTED NON-CON
Summary: Someone has wandering hands
Time: BtVS: after season 7; LoTR: The Third Age roughly 200 years after the capture of Celebrian making it about 300 years before the Ring War
Feed Back: Always welcomed
Spoilers: Season 7 BtVS
Disclaimer: All things from the BtVS belong to the Joss Whedon dynasty. All things from LoTR belong to the great J. R. R. Tolkien. No profit is made from this venture. I own nothing except any OC's that might result of this. Most of this was written in the bathtub. So if it's a little soggy, my bad.
Beta: Wasn't that one of those little bitty VCR type things from the 80's?
Chapter Seven
Tears of Pain and Hopelessness
"I was twenty-three and not ready to die yet, so I went with them. I didn't find out what happened until much later after my arrival to Middle Earth. It was only after I was able to look in the mirror of Galadriel that I found out that they had indeed succeeded. That once again the Slayer saved the world. Or rather the Slayers. That Spike and Anya had both lost their lives. I never did find out who sent me here. I would like to thank them because when I awoke, I woke up in Hell."
At that point Haldir took over with the tale.
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"We had been watching a pack of Uruks for most of the day, waiting for an error in their judgment." Haldir began his part of the narrative. "The pack was not that intelligent but they hungered for 'elf flesh.' And this is what brought them close to Lorien, and when they came, the fell creatures had with them a daughter of Man. Willow. She had been in their company for at least half of the day. By sunset they had reached the edge of the woods."
'Poor Willow,' thought a sympathetic Elladan. Like his brother, the more time he spent in this woman's company, the more he came to like her. Last night after hearing his brother, Elrohir, speak of meeting the Marchwarden's wife, Elladan desired to meet with her. The thought of this gentle woman in the hands of those foul beings was enough to make his blood run cold. Elladan fully understood what the orcs are capable of doing to a female, his own mother had suffered a great deal before he and his brother were able to rescue her from the company of orcs that had taken her. The only healing his mother could find was on the shores of Valinor, and on the day she sailed West across the sea he made a vow to rid the earth of many of those sick and twisted servants of the dark lord as he could. Both of the brothers had made this vow, Elrohir and himself would not stop until either one of them was dead or it came time for them to sail West. Thinking of Willow with those creatures made him want to get his sword and to ride out in search of them once again. "Can you tell us what happened? When you woke up?"
Willow let out a shaky breath as Haldir raised their clasped hands and kissed her hand. "I think I can. The memory is still disturbing and unclear to this day."
"It is alright, my love. I am here." Haldir told his wife.
After gracing her husband with a wobbly smile, Willow started to speak.
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Willow woke up as a large hand clutched her ankle and pulled her out from underneath the bush she was lying under. The smell alone coming off of this thing was enough to make her wish she was unconscious again.
"Hey boys, look what I found. A tasty treat."
Rolling over at the sound of the harsh voice, Willow closed her eyes at the sight before her and opened her mouth, screaming for all the world to hear. She could feel the long sharp fingernails dig into her scalp as the creature used her hair to pull her off of the ground. Willow clawed at the hand that was wrapped tightly around her hair in a vain attempt to free herself. Her futile attempt only succeeded in making it mad. Letting go of her hair, the orc grabbed her by the throat and started to squeeze the breath out of her. Willow struggling, unable to breathe, lashed out with her legs, hoping to land a kick or two. The pain in her foot let Willow know that she had connected with his knee. This only made Gorast madder. He struck her in the face once, twice and then tightened his grip on her throat. Only after her eyes started to roll back in her head did he drop her on the ground. Gasping for air, Willow wiped her bloody nose on the sleeve of her shirt.
"Filthy whore of Man. I was gonna save you until after we had a bite to eat. Not now." Gorast started to unbuckle his clothing, intent on showing his new toy a lesson. He stopped after hearing his commander's voice, telling him that now was not the time.
"You're lucky girl," sneered Gorast, "We'll have fun later."
Staring at the yellow eyes and sharp teeth of this thing, Willow shuddered. She had no illusions as to what that kind of fun meant. Racking her brain, trying to figure a way out of this, it occurred to her. 'Duh, I'm a witch!' Rising on her trembling legs, Willow stared at the orc. Gathering her power, she whispered a spell that would call upon the element of Fire. Nothing. She tried a different spell. Still nothing. Crap!
"Goddess protect me." Willow said out loud, realizing the power she had called upon in Sunnydale had completely deserted her. Turning, she sprinted for the grove of trees behind her. Willow was half way there before Gorast caught up with her. Before he could touch her, Willow stumbled over a tree root sticking out of the ground, twisting her ankle in the process. With tears of pain and hopelessness in her eyes, she once again rolled over to look at her captor.
"Your Goddess ain't gonna protect you here girlie."
Harsh cackling laughter made Willow realize that she and this thing was not alone. Ranged out behind Gorast, the other Uruks stood in a semi-circle around him. Each one just as ugly and smelly as the next.
"Ya gonna share?" Leered one of the smaller ones.
"Yeah, we wants some of that too," another one of them demanded, absentmindedly scratching himself under his clothes.
"Mine! I found her!"
Pulling a large knife from his belt Gorast attacked, knocking the slighter orc to the ground. The two rolled on the ground, teeth and fist flying, each determined to win. Just when it seemed that the smaller orc had gained the upper hand, Gorast struck out with his blade. Catching the orc in the side with his knife, Gorast was able to roll them over, and come out on top.
'No, no, no! This can't be happening!' Willow thought to herself as she watched the two fight over her. 'Where am I? I have to get out of here!' Watching as Gorast straddled the downed orc, she tried to stand. The ankle she had twisted collapsed under her and once again Willow found herself on the ground. 'Okay, running not a issue here.' Crawling towards what she thought would be safety, Willow made her way towards the strand of trees. She was almost there when several loud roars and harsh barking laughter made her turn around. She wished she hadn't. Turning just in time, Willow watched as Gorast raised both of his arms, the sunlight glinting off the blade in his hands. He drove the blade deep into the neck of the orc underneath him, twisting the blade before he pulled it out. The thick black blood splattered the orcs closest to the combatants. She could hear the wet gurgling sound he made as he died, and the roars of approval from the others was deafening. Without a sound, Willow continued to crawl away. With her head down she did not see the pair of boots standing in her way until she ran into them. Looking up, Willow saw the biggest of these creatures yet. Without a sound it reached down and grabbed her arm, jerking her up off of the ground.
"Where do ya think you're going girl?"
Willow's head snapped back and forth as he shook her with each word. With a painful grip on her forearm, he marched her back to Gorast. Willow struggled to keep up as pain filled step brought her closer to her captor. The Uruk-hai commander tossed her at Gorast, who snarled when she bounced off of his filthy chest.
"You put it on a leash," he told Gorast, "We ain't got no time to play."
Pushing a strand of red hair out of her face, Willow stared at the orc, waiting for his next move. She had not felt this helpless since the early years of the Slayer. At that time it always seemed like she was the hapless victim or the unwilling sacrifice. The nerd. The computer geek. Until she had discovered the Wicca craft. No longer was she the victim, growing with each spell. Sure there had been a few mistakes along the way, like the 'My Will Be Done' spell. But hey, no one really got hurt and Spike and Buffy were able to break off their engagement. Then there was Tara. The soft-spoken witch who was Willow's everything. The two Wicca witches had combined their power, helping the Scoobies in the fight against evil. The day she lost Tara forever was dark day. Willow snapped. After draining the Dark Magic from the spell books at The Magic Box she went after Tara's killer. Darth Rosenberg caught up with Warren, tied him to a tree and proceeded to torture him to death. But that was not enough for Willow, hopped up on dark magic she tried to end the world, to put everyone out of their misery. Only Xander, her bestest friend since childhood, was able to stop her. His love for her was what pulled her back from the brink of destruction and saved the world from blinking out of existence. The power she had used in Sunnydale to activate the Slayer line was the most pure and powerful magic she had ever touched, there was nothing to compare to it. The powerful magic had drained her completely, leaving her weak and helpless, barely able to speak. Unable to defend herself against this pack of demons, she did not know if she was going to get out of this alive.
"What kind of demon are you?"
Angered at her question, Gorast slapped the redhead across the face.
"No demon." Thumping his chest in reply. "The fighting Uruk-hai! Names is Gorast and you're my pet, my whore."
Not able to take anymore of the rough treatment, Willow let her mind be known. "Whore? Pet? Okay Gorast can we stop with the Willow abuse? There really is no reason for all of the hitting, just ask. You know you get more flies with honey then..."
The sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed through out the glade. The other orcs laughed as Willow rubbed a hand across her reddened cheek, tears of pain running down her cheeks
"No talking!" Gorast commanded as he pulled a length of rope from his belt. After tying her hands tightly together, he tucked the end of the rope in his belt. Tugging on the rope, Gorast pulled Willow to him. She closed her eyes at the sight of the sharp teeth coming down towards her face. That is why she did not see the his tongue snake out of his mouth.
"Pain. Fear. It all tastes so good. Keep it coming, whore." The taste of his captive's tears was like sweet ambrosia to the Uruk-hai. The next best thing to actually eating the flesh of the girl.
"Just you wait until we take care of those nasty elves in them accursed woods. You and me are gonna have some real fun, girl."
At the sound of the commander's voice the pack moved out. Gorast tugged on the rope pulling Willow behind him. A sniffling Willow hurried to keep up.
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They had marched tirelessly for hours, never stopping for a rest. After about five hours of struggling to keep up, she collapsed, unable to go any farther. Gorast never noticed that his prisoner had fallen. Willow tried to keep her head up as she was dragged thru the dirt and gravel, the sharp pebbles cutting into her already abused flesh. Two hours ago Willow would have given anything for a tube of sunscreen, but now the issue of being sunburned was kind of pointless, hopefully the choking dust was doing its part to protect her from the sun.
"Hey, Gorast!" came from the orc behind him, "you tryin to kill your pet?"
With a snarl, Gorast turned and saw a bleeding Willow on the ground. Without a sound he walked up to her and drew back his foot. Willow felt a rib or two crack as he kicked her. This pain was the final straw for her. Rolling her eyes back, Willow succumbed to the darkness that had clouded her vision for the last several miles.
Upon awaking Willow found herself face down over the orc's shoulder. The smell coming off of the nether regions of this creature was enough to make her gag. Raising her head, Willow took in her surroundings. She was surprised that the sun was setting, she must have been out a lot longer then expected. The encroaching forest was being lit up lightening, the promise of the storm to come. Willow was starting to feel light headed and nauseous from all of the time she had spent draped over the shoulder of Gorast. Without a sound Willow took the only means of revenge available to her for all of the ill-treatment that had been heaped upon her. She vomited down the backside of Gorast. And it felt pretty damn good.
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A/N: Thank you to everyone who has been reading and reviewing-it means a lot. Catch you all in chapter 8.
Uruks-Uruk-hai: a breed of orcs that first made an appearance in the later part of the Third Age around 2475. They are larger then normal orcs and have more tolerance to the sun.