That was apparently some kind of a trial, or a challenge Tauriel had to go through. There was no other reason she would think of whenever she heard Bolg's voice behind the door or saw his shadow through the narrow slit between it and the floor. And she was completely sure it was him. Although it seemed to be quite awful to an elf, she had already managed to learn how to recognize him using only her sense of smell. From what she knew, beasts used that way of finding one another, and she was not a monster... Yes, she had already known how to recognize an orc, but not a particular one. It was both embarrassing and strangely pleasant; she could not help but feel a little satisfied.
Nevertheless, this new skill did not make it any easier. Now, her body yearned for his touch and she knew she could not get it – not only because he was not willing to give it to her yet, but also because she was aware of the fact that once she gave up, she would let him triumph over her – and that was exactly what she had been fighting against for so long. Not to mention that she was well aware of the plans he had for her. And if she allowed him to touch her again, she could be sure that the rest of her purity would be lost, and she would be forced to carry his child, and that was not something she could allow to happen. It was not something she would be prepared for. Neither now, nor ever.
But then, she was completely sure that he would not ask for her permission once he came there with the intention of defiling her. Like an animal, he would just come there and do his job. She had already experienced his way of making her obey him, and what terrified her was the fact that her body would not even try to protest. She needed him, whether she wanted it or not, and that meant that she would end up as a mother of orclings.
That was something what filled Bolg with pride. He had managed to put this little elf where was her place. She knew about his plan, and he felt that although she would try to fight, she would not win, and everything would go just the way he had chosen for them. Maybe she could not understand that yet, but it was for the better. They would live a happy life; she would learn how to live amongst orcs. Maybe it was a good time to let her get used to that, too. After all, it seemed the other orcs, even though they remained just as interested in her as they had been, had learnt their lesson and understood that she belonged to their commander, and they would never touch her without his consent. Unless they wanted to be punished.
He would do it gradually. Maybe at first a simple collar would do; she would no longer be chained completely; the collar would simply prevent her from any harm, nothing more. It was for her own good, so she would feel as comfortable as possible. Then, he would take her to the other orcs and at last she would be allowed to walk amongst them on her own. But it would have to take lots of time. He would never allow her just to jump amongst them now, when neither she nor they were ready. That would mean risking her health and life, and it was hardly what he would ever wish to the mother of his whelps.
That was what he had planned, and since just a couple of days remained to the peak of her fertility, she should get that collar as soon as possible, so he could introduce her as his partner as soon as they got certain she was expecting his child. Besides, he was pretty certain that she would appreciate spending that special day of hers without the chains around her wrists and ankles. Who knows, maybe she would even thank him for that. Maybe that could convince her that he did not want to hurt her; after all, his plan was the best that could happen to her, he was certain about that. And all of his deeds were supposed to make her understand that. Unfortunately, though, it seemed she would need some more time.
Having got the collar from the warg kennel, Bolg, with a triumphant smile, headed towards the dark chamber where Tauriel spent her time. Probably he would need to get her out of there for some time, for she seemed to be sad and afraid; her skin was no longer as white as the moonlight, her eyes had lost some of their previous shine as well. There had to be a way of bringing it all back, for in those little things her cham was hidden. And with this collar, it would be much easier. Or at least so he hoped.
The door was opened with the same great strength as always, and it caused Tauriel to jump a little as she heard that. Of course, she did know who it was, but now, knowing what awaited her, she could not help but be nervous, hearing even the softest of hums. This noise, though, was far from that. It was loud, and sounded a little as if it was announcing her abductor.
"Come here," simply said Bolg, beckoning at the elf. She refused to obey, but he had found a way to make her do whatever he wanted; it would be much harder from now on, he knew that, but he hoped for some more fun. Pulling on the chains, he brought her to the floor and dragged towards himself until he could find her at his feet. With a smirk, he leant down and caught the collar of her dress. With her breath hitching, she looked up at him hesitantly, quite sure he would either rape or hurt her in any other way.
To her surprise, though, he just made sure that she could stand on her own, then started unbuckling the cuffs around her wrists. It was the second time he did that, and she felt at least shocked, realizing that she could take her hands away and rub her wrists.
"Are... are you letting me go?" she asked hesitantly, a bit afraid that her hope was foolish. But watching him undo the chains around her ankles (so gently, she could not help but notice), what else could she think?
However, he only grunted, hearing such a question. Letting her go! The mother of his spawn! Never would he allow that. He was already too much convinced that she would bear his children and help them come to this world, just as his father had always wanted. In this one matter he would not disappoint him, even though it might already be too late. And maybe Azog had not thought that the mother of his grandchildren would be an elf, but it certainly made no difference. It would be still Bolg's blood. His blood.
When all of the handcuffs fell down, Tauriel rubbed her wrists, but dared not move. If he wanted her to go, he would tell her to do that. If not... well, it would be simply not to try to escape. After all, he was much faster and stronger than her, especially now as she had not have much exercise but the moments when he had claimed her as his, or food she had been used to. Even desperate she would not be able to avoid him if she tried running away.
Bolg was glad seeing her like this. Good. She had learnt enough to realize that there was no point in trying to get out of there. Maybe she already accepted the fact that it was her home, that it would be their home until the very end. Oh, he would give much to let it be so.
As he grabbed the collar and spread it for her, she understood what it meant. At least her ankles and wrists would no longer be so hurt, even if that meant a very similar mark on her neck. If she ran away now, everyone would get to know that she had once been an orc's slave, and that would be a burden she would have to carry her whole life. On the other hand, though, if she could run away, she would still be free... and elves were meant to be free...
"Good," commented the orc, eyeing the woman before him with a smirk that to Tauriel seemed to be nasty, but which, in fact, was nothing more but a sign of him being content with the outcome. She was beautiful and his, and since she did not try to escape, it meant she had allowed him to own her like this.
Tauriel, however, could not accept that. He treated her like anyone would an animal. But maybe that was the punishment for how anyone of elven folk would treat an orc. Maybe it really was her fault. Her kin's fault...
"I will be back later," he added, getting up and petting her hair, what confused her to no end. He seemed to be quite fond of her, even though she had thought that as much as he desired her, he hated her. That was not a motion of hatred, though. No-one would behave like this towards someone they despised. And the look in his eyes was not one of disgust, either. And truth be told, that one time she could not find even a drop of lust in the way he watched her.
What was it, then?
Battling her thoughts and feelings, she watched him leave the room and that was when she could force herself to stand up. Living there was not the worst, as she had already noticed. Bolg took care of her. He made sure she had enough food and water, but his lifestyle was much different than the one she was used to. She needed air. She needed sun and stars. And there, deep under the ground, she could see not even one star.
It was boring there, and her loneliness was probably the main reason why she desired Bolg's company so much. She could not help but hate herself for that. It was something definitely frowned upon by any other elf, and degrading at the same time. She was an elf! A proud and free creature, the first born of Ilúvatar! But what else could she do? She knew there would be many that would have not allowed anyone to defile them like that, there would be many that would have told her that she should have rather died with pride in her eyes and figure instead of being used by an orc. But she did not want to die yet.
Not to mention, she realized that her new owner was pretty gentle and sometimes his presence was even enjoyable; even though she was scared of him for the greater part of her being there. But even those moments slowly became shorter and shorter.
At least that had been until he had told her about the plans he had for her.
Tauriel shivered as she remembered them. He wanted to inseminate her with his seed so she would give life to his bastards, and she could not be sure whether he wanted to do it just once, or maybe he would treat her like a living womb. Those thoughts made her feel even more insecure than she ever had and she understood that no matter what, she could not stay there, waiting for him to make his wishes come true.
Cursing the chain at her neck, she tugged on it desperately, and to her own surprise the collar fell at her feet. Her eyes widened and she leant in to pick it up. Even in this darkness she could notice the rust on the clasp. It would explain everything... Bolg must have had enough trust in her, or in this item, to believe that it would be enough to stop her. But she would not waste an occassion like this one. If it was not a sign from the Valar, then she did not know what else it might have been.
Quickly but quietly, she got closer to the door and carefully checked if there was no-one standing behind it. Since the corridor seemed to be completely deserted for now, she opened the door, thanking Bolg that he trusted her enough to keep them unlocked and rushed down the stone stairs, hoping to find the way. She knew that she had to somehow get up, but there were no such stairs anywhere near. Whenever she heard any orcs' voices, she pressed her body to the walls, hiding in the shadow and holding her breath, now fast and shallow.
She was already pretty far from the room she could have called hers when something caught her attention.
While she lived there, she had heard enough conversations to be able to recognize some words. Now, standing with her back against the wall, seeing a group of orcs marching down the corridor nearby, she noticed one of them stop; the other followed soon enough and they frowned, their faces distorting in a nasty grimace.
"Golug..." growled one of them, and that was, unfortunately, one of the words she knew. It meant nothing else but "elf". They had noticed her... by their sense of smell or anything else. They had already got to know that she had escaped. After all, her scent would not have gone that far if she had not left the room.
As quietly as she could, she began stepping in the direction where she had come from, but she noticed another pack of orcs, mumbling something. And once more, she could catch the word golug in the sentences. So there she was, alone in the orcs' den, trapped, unable to escape.
One of the creatures beckoned at the others and he drew out a long sword that did not look like an elvish weapon. With a silent curse she glanced at him, then at the other end of the corridor where she could notice the ugly, flat faces head in the same direction. Oh, how she regretted she had no knife with herself! Not even the smallest!
There was no other way. Since the orcs would notice her at last, she understood that if she tried to escape now, she at least could catch them off guard. Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself away from the wall and began running in the direction where she could see fewer of those monsters. It was an act of desperation, for she understood that nothing but death awaited her in a situation such as this.
When by some miracle she managed to pass the orcs and reach the next corridor she understood that was the worst thing she could have done. The hall was full of those creatures. There were hundreds of them. Trying to get used to the thought that it was how she would die, she blindly ran forwards, feeling their eyes on herself. At least some of them were lustful. After all, from what she knew, there were not many orc females amongst them.
And right when one of them reached out his hand to grab her wrist, Tauriel felt herself bumping into something hard. A knife or something else cut the skin right under her eye and on her chin, but nothing too serious actually happened, if not for the fact that right in the next moment she could feel someone pick her up and throw through the muscular shoulder.
The voice that then reached her ears was rough, the words so nasty that although she did not know Black Speech too well, she understood the one uttering them was furious. And then, he began walking forward. Too shocked and too afraid, she dared not protest. Especially when she calmed down enough to recognize the familiar note in the other's voice.
It was Bolg.
And no matter how much she hated that, she had to admit that he had just saved her life. Warm blood covered her face, cut by the plates of his armour, the injuries hurt, but she was safe. It was a strange feeling, to feel so secure now, as he carried her back to her room...
When they reached it, he placed her gently on the floor, then did something she had not expected: slapped her right across the face, what made the cuts burn even more, bringing tears into her eyes, but she knew it was not a hard slap. It was nothing more but a scolding. A punishment too soft for her to understand.
Panting, the elf slowly raised her eyes to look at the orc as he turned away from her to find the collar. Then, he wrapped it around her neck once more, this time tighter than before, but not enough to hurt her: rather to make sure she would not escape again. All this time he remained completely silent, and although it was stupid, she felt like a child who had just done something bad. But what she had done could have killed her.
After a moment, he sat down right before her, pulling on the chain to make her kneel, but the look in his eyes was not angry. It was full of disappointment and worry. And that was what made her lower her sight; but Bolg used his fingers to tip her chin up, the motion quite gentle, but firm enough to make her sure that she should not try to protest.
"Stupid she-elf," he grumbled, looking at her and reaching up to wipe away the drops of blood that appeared on her cheek. "Could have got killed. Did you want to die, she-elf? Did you want to get hurt? You could have just asked me! I'd have done that faster than them! Spared you from so much pain!"
Tauriel opened her mouth to apologize, but she could not find any proper words nor reach her voice. Why did she feel so embarrassed? Why did she feel guilty for her yearning for freedom?
Tears slowly began rolling down her cheeks, what made the wounds hurt even more, but she did not let herself grimace. This situation was already too much embarrassing to her, and she wished not for him to know about all the pain she felt: both physical and mental. But his face was troubled, and she understood that although she found him so tough, he was hurt as well.
"I just... wanted..." she started, but he hushed her up with just one motion.
"You cannot leave, she-elf," he growled. "The only way you ever leave this place is by dying and I don't want you to die. You are to stay with me here. You are to be the mother of my sons and daughters."
Something about the tone of his voice told her that he would never accept her fighting for freedom, and she could understand that. He had caught her, he had kept her there for so long not to just let her go at some point. He had his plans for her, and he would not give up on them just because she did not want them to come true.
With no other word the orc stood up and left. Tauriel noticed that he did not lock the door. There was no need to. She would not leave.