If before Tauriel had been afraid that her captor had decided to leave her alone, now, she felt that he did his best to tease her on purpose. Otherwise he would not do at least half of the things he did now. Now, she was perfectly aware of his presence there, and although only for short moments, she could see him more often than she ever had. Barely talking to her, he kept visiting her using petty things as his excuses to see her as frequently as possible. Tauriel could not complain, though. She got more water than until now, and despite the fact the food was still as disgusting as before, she could at least for a moment forget about its taste, loving even the smelly water in a not really clean cup she got every now and then.
It was truly surprising to her how eagerly she waited for every next moment when the door swang open. At first, she tried to convince herself that it was caused only by the fact that she wanted to get the next several sips of water. After some time, she had to admit that she was simply lonely and a familiar face, even though such an ugly one, brought certain comfort to her heart, no matter how much she did not want that.
Since Bolg's return to the hiding place, she had not even once seen any of the other orcs, and truth be told, she was pretty glad about it. For although it had been Bolg who had touched her so inappropriately before, she knew him well enough to know he would not hurt her really badly, and only for the joy of hurting her. He only tried to show her the place which was in his belief her place. Who knew, maybe it was for the better, especially for when she remembered the other orc's look, she had already begun to understand that their commander was not the worst that could have met her.
Nevertheless, she still dreamt of Mirkwood, of the paths she had crossed so many times, of the stars she had always watched... If she were to be honest, she could no longer remember what day it was. Maybe it was already springtime... When the spring came, the elven folk used to be even more joyful than ever. There were so many songs to be sung, so many dances to be danced, poems to be recited... And although Tauriel was not the one to enjoy crowds, she wanted to see all of that. She wanted to look at the new sky above her head and breathe in a fresh, warm air, no longer bothered by the colds of winter.
And yet, the only deep breath she could take was filled with terrible scent of her own dirt, sweat, orcs and many other things she would rather not smell every day. However, that was what was connected to being locked in a room with no windows and only one door that was opened for only so short that it could let one person in, then out.
Tauriel had already begun to lose any of her hope if she could ever see the sky again. If she could ever breathe fresh air and step on the warm groud covered in green grass. Things she had been always taking for granted now seemed to be such precious treasures that she regretted that she had ever thought that they could never be taken away from her. Her body longed for a touch of a sunbeam, her tongue yearned for sweetness of fruit. But that was something she could never experience again.
Curling up in a corner like a hurt wild animal, Tauriel sobbed quietly, clutching to the pelt she had been given by her new owner. Slowly, she had started understanding that she should treat Bolg as her owner. As her master... if she only wanted to live a pretty decent life. But how could she stop fighting? She did not want to belong to him. She did not want him to think that she had given up, that he had won. For she could never give up. It was not who she was. No-one of her kin would ever give up so easily.
The sound of someone opening the door brought her out of her melancholy and she quickly sat up, brushing her hair away from her face. As she had thought, it was no-one else but the great orc. It seemed that he was even more satisfied to see her than ever, and although she was usually glad to see him in a good mood (that meant that he would not try to cheer himself up with her help), right now this grin on his face made her shiver. She did not want to see it, and yet she was aware of the fact that if she averted her sight, he would make her look up at him again.
"I have got something for you," he said, reaching out a hand clenched on something. Full of doubt, Tauriel could not help but feel curious about what it contained. After all, his gifts were not that badł the last time he had got her something, she had at last been allowed to wear something that would not be a hairy blanket wrapped loosely around her chest.
Biting her bottom lip, she at last put her own hand under the orc's own, waiting for him to loosen the grasp on the little treasure of his. And although until now she had not thought that it would be something of worth, her eyes widened and a cold shiver went down her spine.
"Where did you get that from?" she asked, or maybe those words simply escaped her mouth on their own, for she was too shocked to be able to form any reasonable sentence. This one, though, meant something, and it seemed to bring quite a lot of joy to Bolg.
Taking another deep breath, she once more looked at her opened hand. On her palm, there was a little comb elves used to decorate their hair with for the spring celebrations. So it would mean that the spring had finally come, but that was not what scared her. There was someone to whom this little thing had belonged to, and this monster had either stolen it from them or, what Tauriel did not want to even think of, he could have even killed that person. Her stomach flipped, then dropped, making her feel sick.
Her hand began to tremble. So this was what he would do to show her that he was her master. He would make her know that he could crush any elf with ease, just like the first owner of this jewel. He would show her how he and his kin gradually destroyed her people, making her desperate and unhappy; and yet, she would get to know that her own life now depended on his own will. He could kill her, if he wanted.
Bolg, however, could not understand why the little she-elf was not happy. Heading to this room, he had been completely sure that she would love the new gift. It was a little thing he had stolen while plundering one of the small human villages on the East from where they were. It looked like one of those awful elvish decorations, so he had thought that she would like it. And yet, she seemed to hate it with burning passion, trembling as she bluntly stared at the little thing in her hands. Disappointed, he felt anger overwhelm him.
"This is how you thank me?" he growled, standing up, towering over her, and Tauriel clenched her eyes, readying herself for the strike, but it never came. For although the orc seemed to aim at her, he at last hit the wall and back off. Too afraid to even open her eyes, she clenched her fingers on the comb, pressing her hands to her chest. Nothing but sheer luck and the orc's pity had saved her this time, but she could not be sure that she would be saved the next time.
After a long while which seemed to be forever, the elf opened her eyes to look at the other, but he did not turn to even glance at her. Why could she not simply accept his kindness? She was the first one he had ever treated like that. Maybe if he was cruel to her... maybe then she would regret her behaviour and long for what she had had since the very beginning. For he had never seen anyone so bold, so ungrateful as her.
That was why he hated elves. They always acted as if they were better from the rest of the world, and the truth was they were weak and full of groundless pride. They were empty. They had nothing to fight for. For although orcs had always been said to be the ones who fought for nothing, they had their reasons for using physical strength against the others. It was revenge. Revenge for all of the bad things that had been done to them since the very beginning of Arda. That was where orcs had come from. The elves had not cared for their companions enough to make sure they had been safe. This way, they had been tainted and defiled, and the race of orcs had been born.
That was why orcs hated elves with such a burning passion.
And yet, Bolg had always wanted all the best for the fiery-haired elven captain. He had been sure that she was full of life and one day she would learn and understand that she belonged to him, that she could be happy if she only submitted. He had thought that she was different than the others of her kin. But no; she was just the same, proud and haughty, empty inside. Nothing but a shell that could be crushed.
However, when he tried to destroy her, something did not let him. Something stopped his hand at the last gasp, making him hit the wall and look with disgust at this little sobbing elf at his feet. That was what elven kin was; a weak, unnecessary race.
But while hatred kept whispering such words into his ear, he still could not believe that she would do such a thing to him. She had always been so interesting, seemed to be so different than the others. What had happened that had made her change so dramatically? Where was the fiery spirit caged in her dainty body? The spirit that attracted him to her so much, the spirit that made her hate him and desire him passionately at the very same time?
"Who did you kill?" she asked quietly, taking her hands away from her chest and glancing at the jewel in her grasp. The delicate ornaments showed little flowers and leaves, several blades of grass and a tiny butterfly. Springtime. Oh, how she yearned for springtime. It was so full of hope and happiness... but if this orc had dared kill an elf, this spring was not going to be a cheerful one in the elven kingdom. "Who did you take it away from?"
Only now could the orc understand. She was convinced he had taken it forcefully from one of the people from her kingdom. After all, it definitely was elvish work – even he, as an orc, could see that. And although it was not a weapon, he felt strange discomfort looking at the decoration; not nearly as strong as the hatred he had for elvish arrows and blades, but his nature protested against having anything to do with elvish things at all.
And yet, he had been carrying it all this way from the village there, to this very room, so he could give it to her, so she would understand that he wished not to hurt her. All he wanted from her was her obedience, and he could praise her and let her live a pretty decent life as his partner and lover, one day maybe as a mother of his children. For that was exactly the future he had planned for her. She would bring him his offspring, making him proud, and that alone would be a great praise to her. It would definitely need some time but in the end, she would understand that when the right time came.
"I did not kill any of the filthy elves," he growled, still not turning to face her; he wished not see the hatred in her eyes nor the pride painted on her face. At that moment, he hated her just as much as he would any other elf. She was no different to him. "I stole it, yes, but from the people, just like your dress. And although I could've killed you by now, although you've got all that from me, you still are so full of yourself. You don't understand that I could set you free and let you be a good entertainment to the rest of us. Maybe that's what you want."
Although never would she have thought that an orc could make her blush with embarrassment at her own behaviour, for with shame she realized that he was right. Were he someone else than an orc, she would have never behaved like this towards him. And yet, his race only made her so prejudiced. And though there was a certain thankfulness in her heart for him, that he had not hurt her yet, she had never really expressed it. She had never even said thank you.
Lowering her sight, she paid one last look to the decoration, then tossed it at the orc's feet, knowing she was not worthy of wearing anything like that. Both her body and soul were dirty. And no jewel would make her look better.
With a grimace, Bolg turned to look at the shiny thing lying on the ground next to his foot. Leaning, he took it into his hand with a certain delicacy she would have never thought she could see in an orc. His eyes were full of disgust as he kept it in his grasp, but it still did not look like it was burning his hand. With a seemingly violent motion, he pushed Tauriel's hair away from her face. There had to be a way to bring back its shine and fiery colour. There was something wrong with this little elf if her hair was now as if covered in dust and matted.
Not quite sure what to do with the little comb, he simply wrapped it into the red strands, making sure it would stay there. If there was anyone but the two of them, he would find it too embarrassing, but there was no-one to see him acting that way. That was why he had chosen this room; no-one would touch her. No-one would see them. Tauriel was safe.
"You elves are so weak. My father would've been so disappointed if I'd acted the way you just have. Orcs fight. Orcs improve. And you are so close to giving up."
That was not the woman he had once chosen. She was so broken now... But then, Bolg remembered that elves were the ones not to live in dark caverns, trying to avoid sunlight as much as possible, like orcs, but they loved light. Maybe she should have some fresh air. Maybe then, she would regain at least some of the strength that had once dwelled inside her heart, making her so beautiful and unique. He needed that person.
"I am not giving up," replied Tauriel with strange power, raising her eyes to look into his own. "I just do not wish to see you try to dominate me by showing me the power you have over the others of my kin and me."
Bolg was surprised to hear such an answer but he did not show that. Instead, he smirked lightly, turning to face her and leaning in patting her cheek.
"I do have a great power over you. The others of your kin don't bother me. Not for now. It's you who interests me. I have great plans for you, and you are going to fulfill them... but not because I will tell you to, but because you will want to. No, you already do want to fulfill my plans." The smirk upon his lips widened and now, he was grinning as he sat down before her once more. "I've seen your body begging for more. I can make you scream without even trying, and you cannot even control your own reactions..."
A dark blush spread all over Tauriel's face, bringing some life into her eyes. That was what Bolg wanted. She would protest, and that would make her look even more wonderful. So she had not given up yet. She was still the same elf he had always wanted – and if she kept on reacting to his teasing like that, he would definitely reach his point.
"My body's urges are not my desires," she replied with boldness in her voice and strange fire in the way she looked at the other. "I will not let you do to me anything like that again. I will not fulfill any of your plans. I have my own plans for my future: to get out of here and live my life, like I have until now."
However, she could not back off as the orc leant in, his face a mere inch away from hers. It was difficult to believe, but she felt excited once more. The way he claimed her as his was something that turned her on despite her attempts to remain as composured as possible. His strength and self-confidence attracted her, even though her mind and aesthetic sense refused him as a possible partner. Besides, he was an orc. An elf would never accept an orc as a possible partner.
"No, little she-elf," he whispered, putting his forefinger under her chin and tipping it up. Tauriel shivered, her breath hitching, eyes wide open as she saw him so close to her. "You will be mine. You will accept the pleasure I can give you and in return you will bring my offspring to this world."
But that was enough. Tauriel gasped and pushed the other away who was not prepared for that, so he backed off a little. His reactions were quick enough, though, for his armour had been taken off of him, thanks to what he was much faster than usually. Therefore although the elf had already started escaping, he pulled on the chains, pulling her down to the ground, then towards himself. As soon as she was close, he trapped her underneath him, pinning her to the floor.
It was not only what he wanted; her body begged for that. It wanted him, and since she was a woman, there were days when it particularly needed a man. Maybe her mind was afraid of admitting that, but she wanted to carry his child, he knew that. And that was exactly what he planned to give her. Soon enough... he knew that this day would come. For now, though, they would have some fun.
Leaning in, he pressed his mouth to hers, his tongue slipping in to play with her own, but she tried to protest. It was too thick for her to make any attempts to bite him, besides, whenever her teeth grazed against the wet muscle, he purred, apparently enjoying the feeling. One of his hands slid down to feel her chest, and that scared her. No, he could not do that to her again...
Bolg quickly got rid of his loincloth and his knees pushed her legs apart, so he could position himself against her; his member was already hard from her teasing and he was ready to act in the very next moment.
He dared not rip her clothes off of her, even though that was exactly what he wanted to do. However, she seemed to like this damned piece of clothing too much, and he did not want to lose this drop of thankfulness he had got from her. Next time he would claim her properly, but next time she would undress for him willingly.
"You just need to wait a bit," he purred as his mouth left hers and now began to tease her ear and neck. Since those were the spots on her body that made her melt, she groaned but no longer could she protest. He was right. Her body desired him so badly and she could not even control that... Her breath hitched sharply. "I will make sure that you will be the mother of my whelp. This is why I've got you here... and this is what'll be your thank-you for me causing so much pleasure to you, little she-elf."
And in the next second, he thrust into her brutally, making her whimper with pain mixed with relief. It was one of the strangest things she had ever experienced, but she had truly needed him too much not to admit that to herself: he had made her body need him the last time they had met, and it had been so for the next several days. Now, he at last touched her, and she shivered.
"No!" she screamed, but he pushed even harder into her, setting a fast pace, making her body move under his own as he looked at her blushed face with a nasty smile. Her voice sounded so brave and certain right now, but he knew that her heart was full of doubt; and he would make sure to keep it like this until she learnt that she wanted him.
Her sounds and noises of protests mixed with moans and whimpers of sheer bliss, and at last faded away when she allowed herself to move along with Bolg, no longer holding back the groans of pleasure. Never would she agree to carrying this monster's terrible offspring... but right now, she needed his touch. She needed him to fill her to the point where she was sure that he would rip her body into pieces just to learn that it had betrayed her, adjusting to his monstrous sizes.
"Yes..." she whimpered at last, shivering and arching her back as his hands let go of her wrists. One of them slipped between them and began to rub her clitoris in circular motions while the other started kneading her left breast. His mouth covered the right one, sucking, licking and grazing his teeth against the sensitive skin, bringing even more sweet sounds out of her chest. That was it. She at last admitted that she wanted it... but she had been fighting so beautifully. It made her so enticing. Maybe he should tease her even more.
Speeding up the hard motions, he soon reached the peak of his pleasure and he spilled his seed inside of her with a low grunt. Tauriel gasped, feeling her own orgasm approach her, but to her surprise and despair, he had already pulled away and stood up, beginning to put his armour on, watching her wriggle on the floor. Letting out a whimper, the elven woman looked up at him, but dared not ask for more.
But he would give her more... Not now, though. It would take a couple of days so she could understand how much she needed him. He was not that cruel, though. Next time he would give her as much pleasure as she wanted. For the whole day would be hers, and she would be his, whether she wanted or not.
Smiling lightly, he grasped her wrist and pulled up onto her feet, seeing her sway on his weak legs. As he leant in, he pressed another hard, almost forceful kiss to her lips.
"Wait for me and think of it again," he purred affectionately, nuzzling her gently, what surprised her to no end. "Because you will fulfill my plan. Think of it. Will you do it willingly or do you want me to force you to do it?"
And not waiting anymore, he left her alone, panting and trembling from need.