***** 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.

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48

The wargs at the base of the cliff were becoming riled once more as the night wore on. Hungry bellies were impossible to ignore, but their prey was pinned too high out of their reach. One of the wargs returned to the den below the cave, to tend to its half-grown pup that had taken a hefty blow at Barbaurak's hand. The smaller of the creatures mainly had a bruised ego, if such an animal could have such cognizance. It pulled itself from the den, sniffing at the air, eager to regain the prize that had slipped out of its grasp, and the tang of iron was renewed afresh in the still night air.

Alaesia bit her lip and held in a wince, but even the half-conscious orc at the mouth of the cave could smell the same thing the warg pup did. She had thought Barbaurak was asleep, and the sound of his voice made her jolt, "Blasted she-tark... yer bleedin' again?"

There was no privacy, no sanctity in her own being for Alaesia, not among creatures that could taste blood in the air like a shark in water. Her head hung in disgust and shame, feeling so exposed, "I-it got worse after y-you hit m-me..."

She knew the accusation wouldn't do much for gaining sympathies, but it felt good to be able to spit it at him. He couldn't come after her for her attitude even if he wanted to. Even if she couldn't really see him through the dark, she could tell in faint moonlight that broke through the clouds that his silhouette was still stationed with his back against the curve of the stone wall, unmoved from where she had treated his wound. The orc's own blood was turning thick on the ground around him, no longer glinting with a liquid sheen in the dark.

She heard him snort, "I nev'r touched ya, ya daft man-thing."

"B-before...Wh-when you g-got captured... After c-capturing m-me," Alaesia snapped back, vaguely noticing the sound of the warg activity below increasing, "Y-you punched m-me in the g-gut..."

"Oh, shrahk, I fergot abou' that," Barbaurak snorted again as if the thought of punching her was somehow amusing to him. "But ye were bleedin' afore that. Tha' a lil nudge busted open an old wound?"

A little nudge? She thought incredulously. The blow had crippled her to the ground, making the periodic episodes of pain and blood return more frequently than they had by the time she gave Ar-Tashk the slip!

The wargs were starting to paw at the rockface again, still not quite able to get a purchase on the sheer stone surface, but Barbaurak continued his interrogation heedlessly, "Perhaps, do ya mean to tell me tarks is really so soft that a gut check's enough ta bleed ya out?"

Even as he spoke, Alaesia had chills of discomfort crawling up her spine, as if he was sizing her up, even while in his broken state.

"Or maybe, bleedin's just a feature of breeders," just as he sneered the words at her, a shadow crested the fringe of rock at the mouth of the cave, and the jaws of the warg pup snapped onto Barbaurak's foot, the same side as his lacerated leg yanking backwards with all its might. Barbaurak let out a guttural scream, scrambling to grab at the cave rocks to stop himself from being dragged out into the awaiting jaws of bigger predators below.

Alaesia could only just make out the mass of the two figures in the dark, not knowing entirely what was going on, the only thing that was clear, was the cave wasn't quite as safe as they had hoped. Her eyes darted around the cave, rapidly trying to remember where Barbaurak had thrown his tree-root club or something she could use to defend herself. The orc's howls rattled the air, sending adrenaline shooting into her veins. She sprinted haphazardly forward, grasping blindly in the dark until she found the club. Her hands shook, clumsily, but she gripped it for dear life and turned towards the cave entrance, raising it over the silhouettes of both orc and warg, then brought it down with all her might.

Barbaurak could hardly believe his eyes watching the sharlob taking a swing. Even as he saw it, things seemed to slow before him as he took in the sight; so she was fiery enough to come at him after all. Coward was waitin' fer a distraction ta off me, eh?

But he was quickly corrected as the strike cracked loud across the warg pup's brow. Its teeth snapped open, attempting to bite at its attacker, as she scrambled back, trying to drag Barbaurak away from the edge, "M-move!"

The beast pawed over the edge at the pair, snapping, scraping, trying to grab anything it could. A loud rumble started to rise beneath their feet as the stone of the cave entrance started to groan with the weight of warg, orc, and human. Below, the older members of the warg pack were starting to haunt the night with yowls and grunts, eager for their young wargling to finish the hunt they couldn't. Its claws slammed down with one well-aimed strike, latching into Alaesia's chains, just as the cave floor dropped out beneath all three.

Rock tumbled and crashed to the clearing floor, sliding through the remaining sections of the fissure on the cliff, followed by a trio of bodies that hit with a dull thud. Wargs scattered as a massive part of their home came sluffing down like a cascade of stone blades, sending clouds of dust pluming into the sky.

The impact made all sense of what direction was up get lost in the cloud, leaving Alaesia's head spinning. The air around her sounded thick; it resounded with a slight ringing in her mind. The dust swallowed the moon, leaving her entirely in the pitch black of night and isolation.

She tried to focus, using whatever senses were left to her. Her legs and body were covered in crumbled rocks and her hands were pressed against something huge and furry. The familiar stink of warg sweat filled her nose. She was pinned against the back of the warg pup from where it had hit the ground before her. The beast was wheezing and whining, having taken the brunt of the impact itself. It didn't seem to have gathered its own faculties yet to realize its unfortunate prey had fallen right into its lap, so to speak.

Alaesia recoiled. She'd have only moments to flee, but leaden weight held her helplessly in place. In the rockslide, her chains had been swallowed by the mass of stone. Without digging them out, there was no way she'd escape before the beast was upon her again. And the sounds of the pack were gathering once more.

So this is it... As far as I got. Her mind seemed to resign, even as her heart was ready to burst from her chest. I wish it was raining. It was curious, the random thoughts that began to run through her head. As if observing herself from an external viewpoint, Alaesia didn't quite know how she ought to feel. Of all the times she brushed this close to death, she felt ready to accept it, but to have tasted freedom, even for a slight moment, made it hard to let fate win in the most pitiable way possible. No one would know she was devoured by wargs, no one would miss her, her entire existence was naught but the breath of a bug in the grand scheme of things. She wasn't a hero of Gondor nor a damsel to be rescued like the fairy tales her parents had told her when she was young. Maybe the only difference in this world that she was ever meant to make was to keep wargs a tiny bit fatter for a lean winter season.

She vaguely wondered where Barbaurak had fallen. If he had survived the fall, he probably wouldn't be able to flee either, not with the blood loss and gamey leg. Alaesia almost felt sorry for him, knowing the proud orc would die a pathetic death, at least by the standards of his own kind. He wasn't some war chief whose loss would topple the political hold of one of Mordor's fortresses. He too seemed minisculely unimportant. She hoped, perhaps, it would be a swift and painless death, for both of them, just as she assumed it had been for Zathra. But she didn't want to imagine how he had died, sure she would experience the same, first-hand, any moment now.

Howls, snarls, hunting, and gnawing maws grew closer. She could hear them bickering with each other somewhere beyond the fog of dust and dark. There was a crunch to one side, she could only assume it was the sound of bones being munched. A wail passed on the other side as another warg must have charged past trying to find a morsel for itself in the low visibility of the dust cover.

The warg pup under her had started to come to its senses as a larger silhouette fell across itself and the human tangled in chains across its back. It scrambled, yelping wildly, trying to break free of the weight of the stone that held its legs fast in place. It buckled and writhed, throwing Alaesia off, before slinking as quick as it could into the dust, disappearing from view.

Another snap cracked just behind her ear as she was dumped unceremoniously onto the ground, and Alaesia felt the hot, humid breath of a beast across her shoulders. She shuttered, unable to shake the creeping memories of the last time a monster had snuck up behind her. She could almost feel the claws of the uruk Vezhir raking up and down her body, making her gorge rise in fear. A massive weight slammed against her back, no doubt a warg pinning her down for the kill. Then came that dark, bone-quaking voice, the voice of one she dreaded, growling low with finality in her ear.

"Az gimb-lat, snaga-izub..."

Ar-Tashk flipped Alaesia onto her back with one swift movement. His massive bulk was almost indistinguishable from the silhouettes of the wargs she had seen. Just as feral as the pack had been, the olog's own mane bristled to stand on end, a predator unlike any other. The air was crushed from her lungs as he bore down the weight of his scarred arm upon her in triumph and snarled, "LAT IZUB!"

"Ar...Tashk..." Alaesia gasped, trying to get at least a single breath. It felt like her chest was going to collapse and her vision would have darkened at the edges if she was not already surrounded by inky blackness.

"Skai..." another familiar voice croaked, weak and raspy, making Alaesia's eyes jump around the dark searching for its owner. Zathra was alive?! The weight suddenly lifted from Alaesia's chest as Ar-Tashk lashed out at something just a short distance away, and Alaesia heard Zathra's disembodied voice yelp, then groan.

"Gaium taz sur, snagorsk! Bind them!" The olog barked an order to darkness before turning his wild gaze back upon his prize, "Az krampadur tad-sha taz la..."

Them? Alaesia's mind raced, trying to make sense of what was happening. Did Barbaurak survive? Who is he talking to?! "A-Ar-Tashk! Wait-"

The giant gave the chain on Alaesia's throat a vicious yank, knocking her teeth together and silencing her protests. He heaved her chains free of the rockpile dragging her roughly some distance away, then pulled her back down to the ground. He deftly used one hand to hold her wrists above her head, while the other pinned her legs. The sound of his labored breathing reverberated around her as if she was once more inside of a cave, but her light-acclimated eyes couldn't tell for sure; were they inside the warg den itself perhaps?

A sickening feeling washed over Alaesia. This was all too familiar, her voice grew shrill as she tried futilely to pull from his grasp, "N-no! Ar-T-Tashk, please! L-let me g-go!"

But the woman's voice was being drowned out. Ar-Tashk's mind was absorbed in the thrill and power he held over her, finally evoking her pleas exactly as he had wanted for so long. At last, she was begging him, for mercy or her life, it wasn't really important. His whole body was on fire with satisfaction as she pled.

The voice inside his head was like a thunderstorm shattering the sky within his own head as it crowed in angry ecstasy, taunting him. She thought she could escape you because you are weak. You let a slave treat you like a curr!

Ar-Tashk's blood grew hotter at the voice's words, but it didn't stop. You don't own her. She owns you! She took the Overlord! SHE LET HIM CLAIM HER FOR HIS OWN! She gave him a WHELP and gave you NOTHING!

He could feel the pulse of the woman's heart under his fingers quicken as he argued back, "Na izub! IZUB!"

"P-Please... D-don't do th-this, Ar-Tashk..." tears were welling in Alaesia's eyes unheeded as Ar-Tashk shifted to pin her legs with a knee so he could freely use his other hand.

Prove me wrong, troll! She will never be yours! The voice hissed over the soft pleading.

Ar-Tashk's now free hand crept to his belt as if it had a mind of its own, as he repeated his claim to the voice, as if it would make his point. The plated greaves and leather trousers slowly started to sluff from his hips, then his hand roved upwards, creeping under the hem of Alaesia's makeshift clothing.

Alaesia squirmed, panic flooding her mind, like a cornered animal, but she couldn't breathe. Every moment of the overlord, Vezhir's abuse was crashing upon her like a tidal wave. The echoes of his claws, the scars across every inch of her body, cried out in pain, like a thousand cuts that she wished would bleed her dry before she ever had to suffer that way again. But this time was different. An olog didn't have claws like an uruk, but that didn't mean he wouldn't tear her open his own way.

Ar-Tashk's huge hand edged under her twine belt, a swift jerk of his wrist making it pop and slide to the ground. His fingers shoved the folds of cloth aside to lay her bare to his ravenous gaze. He hadn't gotten such a good look at her since she had tried to gut herself on his blade, when her stomach had been full with uruk filth. Now, her hair was matted and wild, and her thin form was marred by stretchmarks, cauterized welts, silvery scars, and the grime of blood that had dried upon her skin. But her belly was empty and flat, unbearing, spurring wicked thoughts in Ar-Tashk's mind.

The sudden cold of night-time cave air evoked images of the freezing nights that Alaesia had suffered in the deep, damp kitchen in the fortress. The olog's rough, calloused hand rasped across her chest feeling every bone and muscle under her thin skin, then down her side to the hip where he wrapped his massive fingers around her thigh, grasping her tightly. She was so small beneath his mighty form, it felt like she might disappear entirely if he so much as blinked. He wanted to soak in the sight of her stripes and scars, but bitterness soured the view, knowing he wasn't the one who had given them all to her.

He leaned in close, drinking in the sourness of her fear and tears, though it was heavily masked by the smell of orc sweat and blood, which only riled his wrath more. His grip tightened in jealousy upon her making her cry out. His conclusion? He would just have to destroy any trace of others upon his slave. The olog's tusked maw was dangerously close to biting into her stomach, ready to gore her midriff with the hand-length sharp points of the oversized teeth, but he withheld, wanting her to live long enough to suffer every bit of making his claim.

Alaesia bucked and kicked, but her legs were swiftly pressed to the ground by Ar-Tashk's hips. Something hard as stone, but hot and angry, brushed against her inner calf, prodding forcefully to the point she felt her muscle start to bruise almost immediately. She didn't want to picture it. She couldn't. It would break her, but the snide comments Barbaurak had made earlier taunted the back of her mind. It was seeking her, trying to choose its path between her legs for its thick girth. A sob cracked from her throat; she couldn't believe this was happening, never thought the olog would be just as vile as his overlord, especially not after he had treated her wounds and saved her from Vezhir's assaults. He was just a monster. It was the sound of armor clattering to the floor was the final straw that made her scream.

"Z-ZA-TH-THRA! H-HELP!"

Ar-Tashk's entire body tensed suddenly, all points of contact he had with her body freezing right in place where they were, not moving a hair further, as a sickening sensation sank within his gut. His slave... no... his Isla was calling out for another, just as she had once cried out for him...

The moment the olog hesitated, the voice in his head roared to life, screaming, gnashing, pushing him to continue, You can't just let this SNAGA go unpunished! She cast you aside like rotted meat! She wants a filthy, pathetic orc to save her from YOU, troll of Mordor, olog of the Dark Lord, THE REAPER, THE DEATH OF NURN. You cannot let her insult you like this!

"Kratob kar-izub, lat pul-shrakh!" Ar-Tashk ripped himself away from his quarry, snarling internally and cursing his desire for the human woman's blood... and flesh. He retreated to the far wall of the warg-den, watching out of the corner of his eye as his Isla grasped at her body and curled into herself, weeping uncontrollably. The last time he had seen her like that, so distraught, she had dragged herself to him, seeking him out of her own volition. Now, she withdrew from his very presence, trying to hide herself behind the folds of loose cloth he had stripped away to the floor.

Her shrinking away cut deep in a way that was so entirely foreign to Ar-Tashk, he couldn't make sense of why his stomach hurt so much. The voice continued its tirade, trying to urge the olog to slaughter and take vengeance, but he was consumed by his memories of her falling into his embrace, tearful eyes seeking him when she asked him to stay with her, her burying her face against his chest, holding her tight until she was calm. Why, the olog wondered angrily, didn't he feel the pleasure of those memories now? He finally had her within his possession once again. He even had finally made her beg and plead, exactly as he has wanted since he had first taken from Ku'Gohn's camp for himself! So why was there no satisfaction in it?!

Alaesia was numb, her blood like ice. Ar-Tashk had pulled away, disappearing into the shadows around her before he did what he had started. But that was all the more unnerving. What he was playing at, she couldn't tell, and that anticipation was more frightening than knowing. It allowed her mind to run wild, creating monsters of the shadows, waiting for him to break through the darkness to continue his assault, but he never returned.

Ar-Tashk waited, stewing in his confusion and anger, until Alaesia wrapped herself in the fallen cloth as well as she was going to get, at least without a belt to hold the rags in place, before roaring an order into the dark of the night beyond the cave, "SNAGORSK! TAKE SNAGA-IZUB! NANT NA LUT GON-IZUB!" Even as he called out, Ar-Tashk noticed, with a hint of regret, that the rumble of his voice made her flinch, as if he had struck her.

Some underling of Ar-Tashk's, that Alaesia couldn't identify as Frogblood in the dark, entered the den to retrieve her as the olog had ordered. If the prideful green orc said anything to her, she couldn't tell or didn't hear. Her mind had retreated inward, trying to shield itself from whatever was to come. She followed in broken obedience as he guided her up over the pile of rock debris and out into the hollow night air.

***** Translations *****

Tark - human

Shrakh - Shit

Sharlob - Human (female)

Az gimb-lat, snaga-izub... - I found you, my slave...

Lat izub! - You are mine!

Gaium taz sur, snagorsk - Chain them up, slave thief.

Az krampadur tad-sha taz la... - I will deal with them later...

Na izub! IZUB! - She is mine! MINE!

Isla - Lifemaker

Kratob kar-izub, lat pul-shrakh! - Get out of my head, you fucking shit!

Snaga-Izub - my slave

Nant na lut gon-izub! - Get her out of my sight!