****Author's note****
Be advised: This chapter contains content that may be distressing for some. Read at your own discretion with the tags/rating of this story in mind. If you do not want to read such content, a summary of important plot details is available at the end of the chapter.
Alaesia resisted the witch at every turn and in turn, the goblin fought to force the human woman to submit. Though Alaesia was chained, being smaller than the human, the witch had her hands full. The witch hissed, "Stupid girl. Stay still if you want to live. You'll starve to death."
Alaesia kicked the witch as hard as she could, feeling the movement tear open various scabs along her body. Though still terrified, goblins were much less intimidating, bolstering her will to fight back, "Then let me die! I welcome it!"
Alaesia didn't have time to react as the witch brought her staff down in a swift strike to her stomach. The blow knocked the wind from Alaesia, granting the witch just enough control to restrain her ward's limbs. Alaesia gasped for breath, only to snap her jaw shut in desperation as the witch tried to shove a waterskin of grog between her lips. Unbidden, as if influenced by some unseen force, Alaesia choked most of the drink, before she pulled her face away and spat a mouthful in the witch's face.
"I would rather die–"
"Enough!" The witch interrupted, "You will do as I say!"
She pressed the end of her staff into Alaesia's throat, just enough that the pressure began to cause discomfort and began to rotate it in place. The witch's eyes glazed over as a dark intonation whispered past her lips and a sudden surge of power coursed through the staff and into Alaesia's neck. Her victim let out a terrible scream, feeling a shocking pain lance throughout her body, radiating outwards from the staff point. When the witch withdrew, Alaesia could hardly do more than shutter; even still, she put all her effort into clenching her jaw shut.
Pushed to the limits of her temper, the witch uttered, "You try my patience, girl! Salzad, Rezid!" She barked two names towards the entry of the kitchen, and when a pair of goblins crept forth from the darkness, she hooked a claw at them. "Bring your brothers. I've need of you."
One of the goblins retreated as the other came to the witch's side as ordered. She passed the chains she was holding taut to the goblin and commanded, "Keep her still. I must mend her wounds to prevent infection."
Alaesia tried to kick out again, only to have the shackle on her ankle restrained by the newcomer. When the other goblin returned with a handful of others, each took up holding tight to one of her other shackles until the human woman was entirely restrained. Anger swelled in Alaesia's chest, but she had no way to fight back as the witch set about stitching up her cuts, even the internal ones. Hot tears poured down the human woman's face at the indignity she was forced to suffer, exposed for all the goblin's greedy eyes to take in.
Once the injuries were dressed, the witch passed her staff around them, muttering vile words of enchantment. There was a moment of calm before Alaesia felt a sudden jolt pull the strength from her limbs. Her skin began to itch around her wounds, as if plagued by vermin, lasting until she barely had the energy to move her head. When the sensation lifted, she could only just glance over her body to see that the marred skin, where blood had just been seeping out from a moment before, had turned to bold, half-healed scar tissue.
Finally, the witch had her goblins force the weakened human to eat by prying and wedging her jaw open enough that they could force rations into her mouth. Again, Alaesia felt as though her body acted of its own accord once the sustenance had only just passed her lips and she couldn't resist the urge to consume the food. A couple of the goblins were chosen to act as guards to prevent her from purging her stomach after the fact. It felt hopeless to fight them.
The violent caretaking quickly became routine. The witch's magic was cold and manipulative in every way imaginable. Whatever schemes Alaesia tried to fight her, the witch always had an answer. She could feel an unholy magic coursing within her innards with increasing drain as each day. Whatever vile thing was clearly growing within her was making horrific swift progress, and it was sapping every ounce of vitality from her. She wished she could simply tear it out entirely.
Whenever she was coerced into eating, it felt like she was unwillingly compelled to swallow any food that did get forced between her teeth; only then the nutrients seemed to be siphoned directly from her stomach to the overlord's spawn. The thought of it made her heave uncontrollably, but there was little to be expelled, as if the transfer was near-instantaneous. Alaesia begged that the witch would simply let her die, but the crone ignored her pleas.
At least once a day, Alaesia, slowly and with disgust, realized it was easy to mark the passage of time by, the overlord would visit the kitchen to observe if the witch's promise was making any progress. After his first visit, she couldn't bear to look him in the eye, but now she was even more restrained and he easily forced her to look at him.
"I see none of your promises bearing fruit, dum-shatraug." Vezhir's voice was low and threatening as he addressed the witch. "Can you be sure the ghash-dorozga is bearing my seed?"
The witch bemusedly rubbed her arm where Alaesia had gotten one lucky strike when one of the goblin's had failed to restrain her properly, "It is assured, my lord. The majick bends time to my will. Even if she was not receptive in the moment, the ritual made her fertile. See her wounds, they've a moon's-worth of healing in just days. As that is, so is your ghash-dorozga's progress."
At a dangerous, skeptical glance from the overlord, the witch quickly devised a way to keep the uruk's wrath at bay, "There is nothing to doubt, sire. But you are welcome to verify. There is no harm in having your way with her again if you so desire."
"You think you are clever, dum-shatraug?" Vezhir eyed the witch with a smirk. Yet, he didn't contradict her. He only turned his predatory gaze on the trembling slave woman.
The overlord quickly became absorbed with the sensation of pleasuring himself in the human woman and making her cower in his presence. Each day from then on, Vezhir would make a point to visit the room more often. Alaesia tried to resist, but every time he forced himself upon her, the push back became more feeble.
Alaesia was unsure how many times she was violated, as sometimes she blacked out from the pain, and other times it was what woke her up into her waking nightmare. The entity inside her gut had yet to make a visual difference externally, but the pressure inside was growing progressively heavier. When she was allowed slack on her chains, she would avoid the fire, hoping the cold of the kitchen's corners would snuff out her life, but she was never left alone long enough to slip away.
The cold helped numb the pain in her limbs, for which Alaesia was grateful. She let it lull her into sleep, hoping it would be the last time she would open her eyes. To her dismay, a loud clatter rattled her awake once again, and she pressed further behind a barrel, fearing the overlord's presence. Yet there was a slow and heavy gait that shuffled closer, its owner far bigger than Vezhir. Ar-Tashk had returned.
One of the goblin servants that had been guarding Alaesia was quickly backhanded and sent skittering out of the dark kitchen, shrieking after having its arm shattered by the olog, who growled after it in black speech, "Narla afar trov-izub, gaz zom."
He surveyed the room until his nose scented where his slave was, hidden between crates and barrels. He located the secured part of her chain and dragged her from her hiding place with little effort. He noted with surprise that she followed the chain in obedient silence until she was standing before him, clothed in the tattered and stained remains of the grain sack he had left her.
Its foul odor assailed his nose as he noted that she was heavily bruised and had a number of scars he hadn't seen before, and among them, a new scabbed-over bite wound on one forearm. He growled, surmising that the goblins had been taking advantage of his absence to torment his slave. He seized her injured arm and lifted her aloft until she was eye level so he could examine it.
Before Ar-Tashk could speak, she whimpered, "Please… take my life. I can't… Just end me please!"
Ar-Tashk laughed, her life was his alone to decide, but for now, he was famished from his campaign. Knowing just who he had stolen his slave from, he dropped her to her feet and shoved her towards the pantry and commanded, "I hunger. Lat bun snaga-tab Ku'Gohn. Make food, fit for dead gourmet!"
The joke made the olog snigger, which turned to a scowl when he noticed who had appeared in the entry of the kitchen. Vezhir halted dead in his tracks the moment he saw Ar-Tashk. The olog had failed to report directly to him upon arriving back at the fortress, meaning the overlord was momentarily confused to see him in the kitchen
Ar-Tashk's eyes narrowed as the uruk recomposed himself to greet the olog. The olog was not for a moment fooled into believing Vezhir was there to see him. A glance towards the slave woman as she cowered in the olog's shadow and the reek of abject terror she exuded was very revealing.
Vezhir had a look of ravenous hunger in his eyes as they roved past the olog towards the slave, but he waved his claws dismissively, "Reaper. You've returned, successfully I expect. I took the liberty of ensuring your slave was kept alive while you were away."
Vezhir beckoned to a shadow that crossed the threshold of the kitchen, inviting the goblin witch to join them. A deep, primal instinct in Ar-Tashk's gut made him bristle at the witch's presence, but Vezhir attempted to calm him, "Your slave neared death in your absence, and you know how ill equipped orcs are for such matter. This goblin has been tending to the snaga sharlob for sometime now. She'll answer your beck and call in whatever you need."
When Vezhir thought his brute was sufficiently convinced, he dismissed the witch, "Take the snaga to get cleaned up. I need a word with the Reaper privately to discuss the results of his mission."
Alaesia pressed further behind Ar-Tashk, but as a show of good faith, the crone grabbed the end of her chain and slowly coaxed her from her hiding place. Ar-Tashk knew he didn't have any logical reason to protest, but he couldn't resist curling his lip at this witch, "Mulkrut na snaga-izub nar-flak, nanulg az krampadur az-lat."
****Summary To Skip Traumatic Sequence****
Alaesia expresses suicidal thoughts as a means of escape from her suffering. She is tortured by the goblin witch and forced into obedience via magic coercion. A few days pass and Vezhir starts to doubt if the witch's magic is working. To placate the overlord, the witch tells him that he can continue having his way with Alaesia (sexual abuse is alluded to).
Ar-Tashk returns, without informing Vezhir, which surprises the overlord when he shows up to continue his abuse of Alaesia. Vezhir has the goblin witch take Alaesia away so he can debrief Ar-Tashk about his campaign.
****Translations****
Dum-shatraug - fate witch
Ghash-Dorozga - Test subject
Majick - A mispronunciation of magic
Narla afar trov-izub, gaz zom - Keep out of my territory, little worm
Lat bun snaga-tab Ku'Gohn - You were once Ku'Gohn's/his slave
Snaga sharlob - slave woman
Mulkrut na snaga-izub nar-flak, nanulg az krampadur az-lat - Return her/my slave unharmed or I will kill you