*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.

For the first time since Alaesia had been captured, there was no maw of teeth or clawed hands to lash at her, no threat hanging over her head to strike her, no raucous noise splitting her ears, no leering predators sizing her up as prey. The silence would have almost been unsettling, if she hadn't been so utterly exhausted from living in a constant state of heightened emotions.

It was in the silence that she was able to make out the nibbling of rats as they scoured the kitchen floor for any crumbs left around. She could just make out their shapes scurrying along the fringes of the room in the quickly dimming light, cast by the dying embers of a torch that the olog had disposed of in the hearth. Upon finding a small puddle of caragor blood from the kills the olog had given to the forgemaster, the rats began gathering to lap it up. They'd squeak and bicker over food, and retreat into gaps between the stonework whenever startled. Lucky little vermin, she thought to herself, if only I could disappear into those cracks where they could never find me…

Still, she was grateful for the isolation. She couldn't help but wonder if the uruk overlord and olog were away, brutalizing some other victims. At least if her captor was away on some war campaign, they weren't around to torture her. The thought gave her a sick sense of guilty relief. She wouldn't have wished such a fate on anyone, yet whatever was keeping them away from her was a blessing.

Maybe there's a battle they've all been called to war for, she wanted to hope, but it was a bittersweet wish. Not knowing if her imaginings were for good or bad, she could only utter a little prayer that if they were at war, that their opponents would be able to withstand the onslaught. Maybe by some miracle, her captors would all finally be defeated by Gondor's armies, and she might be set free, or at least she tried to fantasize.

If I could only just fall asleep here, only to be awoken by the sounds of cheers and the brilliant triumph of Gondorian war horns. It might take them a while, but the soldiers would finally take the keep. When they breached these dark, stone walls, every goblin, orc, and troll would be hunted down and done away with. Like the rats, the monsters of Mordor would be startled and scattered. They would have to retreat into the murky crevices they sprang from. And then, with the keep secured, the Gondorians would finally free me from my prison. Oh, how I wish to be free of the weight of these chains, and…

Her mind paused abruptly as her abdomen twinged, bringing her hurtling back from the daydream into her inhumane reality, this thing inside me…

She didn't want to think about what other people, human folk, would do, if they found out what unholy creature she was carrying. She could only assume it wouldn't be worse than what the orcs had put her through. But being an outcast, she might not get much in terms of courtesy from Gondorian soldiers either. Sure, her limited knowledge from her parents had taught her that they were noble and valiant, and her sparse interactions with them had never turned hostile, but she couldn't imagine they'd turn a blind eye to her situation . The hatred between man and orc was so deeply ingrained, it was instinct. At the very least, if Gondorians did ever conquer the keep, they would be human.

Alaesia shifted around, trying to get comfortable, but a misplaced cramp in her lower back made it impossible. Her body was feeling weaker with each passing day, despite the size of her stomach increasing exponentially. She could feel jarring kicks that made her stomach feel like it was being turned inside out and there were bone-bending aches as her body was trying to adjust at such an unnaturally accelerated rate of the thing growing inside her. The cold stone cell around her at least helped ease the coal-like burning she felt in her pelvis and the silent blackness of the kitchen eased her aching head. The stillness made it all the more prevalent when the sound of shuffling footsteps started growing louder from the halls beyond the kitchen.

"Psst, 'ey little pinkling, you've got a visitor," a nasally voice crooned from the direction of the doorway, beckoning Alaesia from the shadows. When met with no response, whoever was speaking shuffled forward, and called out again, "There's no need tuh hide from ole Granyk… I just want to talk wiv ya."

"Where is she…" the voice queried in a low, growling undertone. Alaesia recoiled in her cage; no orc or other monster of Mordor held any kindness for humans. She could feel the malice dripping from the intruder's words as he snarled, "COME OUT."

Though the room had fallen into pitch black for the human woman, goblins were built for caves and tunnels. Granyk could see well enough through the dark, but he could hear even better. The soft shifting of fabric and chains was the giveaway that caused the goblin to whirl in Alaesia's direction, "There you are!"

In an alcove on the far side of the room, the human tried to press herself into the safety of her corner, but Granyk could hear her breath quickening. He drew a wickedly curved blade from his boot, and lunged forward, his mangled jaw twisting in an eager grin. He would make quick work of the cage lock, then she would be all his!

Alaesia held back a yelp when the intruder slammed against the bars of her cage, sending a shower of sparks glancing off the iron. For a moment, the sparks illuminated a horrible, malformed creature that had a crazed look in its eye. Metal on metal shrieked as the Granyk stabbed at the cage latch, working his dagger furiously to break the internal mechanism and grant him access to the fresh meat on the other side of the bars. He could taste his victory, it was so close. Her olog master would return to an empty cell! The thought made Granyk cackle like a warg. Drool splattered from his mouth in anticipation. "Yer mine now, little pinkling! I'm gonna to pick every morsel of yer pretty pink flesh off yer bleedin' corpse! I'll drink yer blood, suck the marrow from yer bones!"

Without warning, q loud clang rang out as his dagger blade snapped, breaking clean off in the lock. Granyk stared at the remaining handle in his fist, a fire boiling him from within, but before he had a chance to move, he heard the clatter of hurried steps approaching from behind. The goblin wasn't able to even gurgle out another word before his head was parted from his shoulders by a blade hidden in the darkness.

Alaesia heard the thuds of Granyk the goblin's head and body hit the floor, with a grotesque splat. For what felt like an eternity she was in a daze, wondering against hope that whoever had silenced the little monster, was an ally. She couldn't help to think this was all too good to be true. Maybe she was still dreaming of being rescued, it was the only explanation, made all the more obvious when she involuntarily rose to her feet without hesitation approached the bars. She wanted this lucid fantasy to last forever; at any moment, the walls of the fortress around her would crumble, allowing her to see the night sky finally as a free woman again. She would feel the dawn sun caress her skin and the sea breeze lift every burden from her shoulders.

Alaesia didn't see the clawed hand strike from the shadows, slipping between the bars, and snatching the end of her collar chain. Her whole body was suddenly slammed forward against the cage by the unseen force on her shackles. She cried out, searching desperately in the dark for her assailant, when she became aware of the foul breath breathing down on her. Looking up, she could make out the familiar, faintly glowing pair of owl-like eyes of the uruk overlord, Vezhir.

The woman's legs buckled and her body slid down the bars as limp as Vezshir's grip would allow. The horrid sound of his voice crawled into her mind, like a worm slithering into the darkest parts of her psyche, "Well, well, my ghash-dorozga. Aren't you so excited to see me. These days apart have just flown by, haven't they? The dum-shatraug says my little pet project is nearing completion… Let's just say I'm thrilled my attack dog guarded you so well. It's quite a surprise he hasn't killed you yet. Maybe he isn't as disobedient as I thought. Though… Since he's a little… preoccupied this evening, we'll have plenty of time to catch up!"

He laughed as her trembling shook the chain in his hand. The overlord loosened his grip on her, just so he could open the gate, only to find it was still locked. He cursed under his breath, having not realized Granyk's attempt at lockpicking had been a complete failure.

Alaesia shoved away, trying to flee the nightmare, only to have her chain viciously retracted. Again she was slammed up against the bars, this time the uruk lifting her to her toe tips by the shackles on her wrists so her back was facing him, pressed against the metal by force. Vezhir threaded his arm through the bars, and clamped it around Alaesia's throat, "Stupid goblin couldn't even pick a lock… I guess I'll just have to make do..."

With the arm restraining the slave, his other started to explore beneath her long tunic. Vezhir could feel every sinew of the woman fighting his grip. Her round belly writhed with his spawn within, causing a wave of insatiable heat to wash over the uruk. He wanted to devour her, he wanted to tear the spawn from her gut, he wanted to shove himself through her like a spear until she screamed and he wanted to fill her with more of his seed. The kicking creature in her was stronger than he had hoped, a perfect specimen thus far. With results like that, this ghash-doroza would be ideal to breed his army. All of the human women he had pleasured himself while away at the caves would build new warriors of his strong blood.

Vezhir grabbed Alaesia's leg through the bars with his free hand, and leveraged it to the side until she was bared open to him. Despite the iron that stood between them, he was plenty long enough. He pinned her leg in place with his own body, maneuvering to free himself from his own clothing. He didn't need any time to warm up, a searing throb pulsed through him as his clothing fell to the ground.

Alaesia couldn't move as the overlord used her cage against her. His hands crawled and choked until she couldn't find the breath to scream. Being pinned with her back to the bars, and limbs restricted by her chains, she couldn't retaliate against him at all. Vezhir clawed at her breasts, digging into them with his sharp nails. His tongue scraped along her back like a file. A brief moment flooded her mind with memories of the bite wounds he had inflicted on her just a few weeks prior, before Vezhir sunk his jaw into the back of her shoulders. The same moment she felt blood gush from the wound, he shoved directly into her with no warning.

The slave broke her voiceless silence, feeling as though she was being torn in half. There was no slick movement this time, just pure force and friction causing Alaesia's soft interior to tear from his pressure. Blood began pouring from both her shoulder and down her legs, making the uruk thrust even harder.

After visiting so many slaves in the caves, Vezhir knew exactly how to elicit the exact pain in his victims to give himself the most pleasure. The overlord felt hot blood lubricating him from tip to base as he pounded in and out. He could feel the human quivering both in his hand and on his member. He sucked on the bleeding bite he had inflicted on her shoulder, drinking the sweet taste like a fine wine.

Alaesia felt her mind slipping as he stretched her deeper with each thrust. If only the olog was here… the sudden wisp of a wish caused Alaesia to jolt; what would I possibly want with having HIM around?!

Vezshir's hand wrapped down over her leg until it found her lips. His sharp nails cut into her skin as he fondled her, no hint of gentleness to his touch. Though her memory of it was hazy, she couldn't help but remember the exchange between the olog and the uruk at the gate, the same day that the overlord had left the fortress. Maybe she wished Ar-Tashk was around because the overlord only came after her when the olog wasn't around. Yet, when she had last seen Vezhir, when he had argued with Ar-Tashk, he almost looked as if he was afraid of the olog.

The uruk started thrusting faster. She choked as his grip tightened on her throat. Alaesia couldn't fathom how much deeper he could go, it felt like she was going to fall apart at any second. If not surrounded by darkness, she would have seen black beginning to bloom at the edges of her vision, even as her mind continued trying to concoct some form of mental escape. The olog may be a monster, but at least he has never raped me; he never violated me… never broke me...

She felt the uruk's sweat falling on her back, his hot breath burning on her spine, and his movement becoming erratic. He has even tended to me… given me some semblance of care… in spite of his nature.

With one final pull, Vezhir forced into the woman and exploded within her. Alaesia felt hot fluid distend her skin until it escaped the gap between them and splattered on the floor. She sobbed silently, lost in her fantasy. Vezhir shuttered and held her fast until he had unloaded everything he had, before letting the woman collapse gracelessly into the floor.

*Summary To Skip Explicit Sequence*

While Ar-Tashk is preoccupied at the fight pit, the goblin Granyk goes to the kitchen's so he can exact his misguided vengeance on Alaesia. He tries to pick the lock of the cage Ar-Tashk put her in, but breaks his dagger off in the lock by accident.

Before Granyk can do anything else, he is beheaded by Vezhir, who has returned from his excursion to the caves (it is implied he assaulted all the female slaves that Ar-Tashk had previously gathered). Upon realizing Granyk's broken dagger jammed the cage lock, Vezhir restrains Alaesia against the cage with her shackles and chains and assaults her through the bars.

*Translations*

Pinkling - Diminutive for pinkskin, meaning human

Ghash-Dorozga - test subject

Dum-shatraug - fate witch