Author's Note: I don't own Harry Potter but I do own any OC's you see in this story (there's going to be a lot of them!)
Key!
This- Journal entries
This- Memories
This- Modern world
000- Scene break
I-I've done something terrible to Amoda... Just to warn you...
If you are of the squeamish sort or have delicate sensibilities then I advise you to stop reading at this sentence: The last thing she saw before her vision faded was Krenko downing a red concoction from a glass phial.
If you skip this part of the story then you are done with the chapter because it doesn't get any better.
Chapter Six
First Blood
Harry stood in front of the gargoyle blocking the entrance to the Headmaster's tower. Not wanting to guess at the password, he simply extracted the scroll he had received that morning. He unfurled and scanned the document momentarily... There it was; 'I am particularly fond of chocolate truffles.' Harry looked up at the stonework guardian and said, "Chocolate Truffles," a hint of a smile on his face.
The gargoyle receded into the wall a bit and started twirling upwards like a corkscrew, the sound of stone grinding on stone following in it's wake. Harry stepped onto the revolving stairs and waited for his ride to stop. Walking through the familiar greeting hall, barely intrigued by the shiny, silver doodads and gleaming whatchamacallits by this point, Harry went to knock on Dumbledore's door - "Enter, Harry!" came the Headmaster's voice, as always, before Harry could lay hands on the wooden barrier. Smiling, Harry opened the door to the Headmaster's inner chamber. "Good evening, Harry." said the jovial Headmaster.
"Hello, Professor." said Harry courteously, taking a seat infront of the Headmaster's desk, as had become their custom.
"Harry." began Dumbledore. "It should be obvious by now that we're going to continue our look into Tom Riddle's past... But first, it was my hope that you would indulge an old man's curiosity." Harry cocked his head, prompting the old man to elaborate. "The Grimoire, Harry."
Harry nodded, he should've known that the Headmaster would be curious about the exceedingly rare tome. "Of course, Sir."
"Excellent." beamed Dumbledore. "Firstly: What kind of person was Amoda?"
The first word that came to Harry's mind was 'randy', but Harry rather thought that'd be a bad thing to tell his Headmaster. "From what I've seen so far, I can tell that she's courageous." said the raven-haired wizard. "She doesn't give up. She lost everything but is now trying to build her life back up."
"What do you mean?"
"She was abandoned by her father and instead of giving up and dying in the wilds, she went through training to better herself." Harry's eyebrow twitched as though something clicked inside his head, but rather than give his thought voice, he decided to think over his revelation in solitude.
Dumbledore nodded into his silvery beard. "Secondly: What was the magic like in the time of the Founders?"
Harry went to answer but his mouth hung comically open. "I-I don't know..." said Harry. "The only bit we've seen would be a medical exam and someone mentioned potions... If it weren't for the fact that she said that she enchanted the journal herself then I'd think her a muggle."
The Headmaster's eyebrow's crinkled. "Interesting..." muttered Dumbledore, stroking his beard. "It's always been accepted by those who have studied her life that she was a powerful and talented witch... And you've seen no evidence that she's encountered other magicals?"
"No one but the old Healer."
"A mystery to be sure." said Dumbledore. "It's entirely possible that she has magic but that, without a monitoring device, the magical community would be unaware. Harry, sometime along the reading, she'll probably encounter another wizard or witch. When she does, I want you to pay special attention to their magic." Harry nodded his understanding. "Now! When we last left off, young Tom..."
Harry left the Headmaster's office some time later pondering Tom Riddle's magpie-like predisposition for keeping trophies. Harry pushed the thoughts aside, determined to wait until morning when he could talk to his friends before giving them any serious consideration.
Climbing the steps to his dorm room, Harry had one last thought as he settled himself into his bedsheets: 'If Amoda can improve herself, then why can't I?'
000
It was a strange day indeed when Ron Weasley woke before his best friend, but that was what had happened. The youngest Weasley boy stood over his slumbering friend wondering what to do. Normally, Harry knew to rouse Ron once and the red-head would wake in roughly twenty minutes, but this situation was so rare that they had no modus operandi for waking the raven-haired early riser. Ron eventually decided to poke his best mate in the shoulder. "Harry." said Ron. "Harry, wake up!"
"What, Ron?" moaned Harry, tiredly rolling over in his bed sheets.
"Breakfast is over in twenty minutes!"
Harry sighed, to Ron, no breakfast would be unthinkable; he blamed Molly's delicious cooking. "Go on, Ron, I'll get dressed and meet you in the great hall." Ron nodded seriously and powerwalked to the door leading to the common room, leaving Harry alone. The black-haired wizard sighed for a second time and left his covers to stumble to the loo.
A few minutes later, a more aware Harry walked from the bathroom. With a lazy flick of his wand and a muttered incantation, Harry's bed made itself, leaving the house-elves with one less thing to clean. Harry dressed silently and, when he clasped his cloak over his uniform, he left Gryffindor tower, passing through an empty common room.
Harry checked his watch and frowned; while not as hungry as his ever ravenous best friend, he had still wanted to eat something before heading to the reading room. The teenage wizard was just about to call for an elf when he heard the sound of people arguing.
Knowing that he shouldn't pry but unable to help himself, Harry whipped his invisibility cloak out of his pocket and covered himself with the cloth; vanishing from sight. Muttering a silencing charm over his feet, Harry creeped towards the disturbance.
Rounding a corner, Harry saw Blaise Zambini arguing with Daphne Greengrass and Tracy Davis.
"-your secret, Greengrass." said the dark skinned wizard. "Just wait till the heir to the noble houses of Greengrass and Davis are outed as muggle lovers and blood traitors! Just think of what your fathers will do!"
Harry saw a flicker of fear run past Daphne's normally stoic face.
Tracy stood straighter. "What do you want?" she said, not bothering to deny the accusation.
"All I want..." began Blaise, tapping his wand on his chin, "Is this, Accio Wands!" Two dark colored sticks of wood slipped from Tracy and Daphne's sleeve and the girls flinched as though they had been hit. Blaise pocketed the two wands. "Follow me," he said coldly, but there was something else in his voice; a tingle of excitement that sent shivers down Harry's spine.
Harry tightened his grip in his wand and skulked after the trio of Slytherins.
They walked in silence for a while, Daphne and Tracy leading the way, held at wandpoint by Blaise, and followed invisibly by Harry. The quartet rounded a corner and Blaise swiped a his wand causing a door to appear on the wall as he dropped his hiding charm. He chuckled as his sudden motion caused a flinch of fear in the two girls. "In." he said, again waving his wand, causing the door to slowly glide open.
One by one the three snakes entered the room and Harry just managed to slip past the door as it closed behind Blaise. Harry steadied his breathing and listened and what he heard pulled a veil of rage over his eyes.
"-Your robes; remove them. You know how it is in Slytherin -what we do to Blood Traitors."
Tracey scowled as Daphne seemed to shrink in on herself. "Fine!" she snarled. "But you'd best sleep with one eye open from now on!"
She reached up to undo the clasp of her outer robes and before Harry knew what he was doing he had whipped his cloak over his head and shouted, "Stupefy!" A bolt of blue light leapt from his wand and impacted against the back of Blaise's head, sending him to the ground, unconscious.
"Potter!"
Harry looked to the surprised females and nodded. "Are you two alright?" he asked, lowering his wand.
Tracey nodded back and stalked to Blaise. With a growl, she turned him over with her foot and kicked him in a delicate area. Harry flinched automatically; he would've swore he heard one pop. "Bastard." she muttered, collecting her and Daphne's wands. "Thanks, Potter. Without you we'd both probably be on our knees right about now."
"Is she going to be alright?" asked Harry nodding his head to Daphne who's caramel skin darkened across her cheeks.
"Yeah." said Tracey. "I'll make sure she gets back to her dorm." Daphne turned her head and used her dark brown hair to hide her face. "But first things first." she knelt by Blaise's face and pointed her wand at him."Obliviate!" The would-be rapist's half-lidded eyes went foggy before closing.
Tracey made for the door, grasping Daphne's hand and taking the tanned witch with her on the way to the door. They were almost out when Harry posed a question, a serious edge to his voice. "What he said, about what Slytherin house does to blood traitors, was that true?"
Tracey sighed. "Yes." Harry looked supremely uncomfortable and Tracey took pity. "We've never been caught so we've never been attacked by anyone in Slytherin."
"Does Snape know?" asked Harry, thinking of the greasy man's skill in legilimency.
Tracey shrugged. "If he does then he doesn't participate; I've never seen anything from the man that would suggest otherwise."
"W-why doesn't anyone tell one of the teachers or their parents?" asked Harry desperately, unable to wrap his overly noble mind around the situation.
"We can't." said Daphne, speaking up for the first time, her voice was much less cold than any other time Harry had heard her in passing. "Our first night in Slytherin we're rounded up by the seventh years and a spell is placed on us that'll keep us from speaking about house business to anyone not in the know. Since you walked in on the stuff with Zambini you're now considered 'in the know' and we could tell you about it."
"Then I'll tell." said Harry with conviction.
"You can try," began Tracey, "but I'm pretty sure that the magic that keeps us from speaking applies to anyone we happen to tell." Harry's shoulder's slumped. "The more important question is how Blaise found us out... I bet it had something to do with that skank, Pansy." She shook her head. "Thanks again, Pott- Harry, I really didn't want to become the Slytherin house broomstick." Harry raised an eyebrow and Tracey elaborated. "Broomstick, Harry, meaning everyone gets a ride."
Harry nodded, accepting their thanks, and the two girls left Harry alone with his thoughts. Sighing, Harry left the room and walked to the kitchen to grab some leftovers before the Elves vanished it all.
000
Harry appeared in the reading room munching on a sweetroll; a cinnamon flavored bread with a gooey, sweet frosting on top. Harry couldn't believe that he had almost missed these; they were served so rarely that they were coveted by the students, the most fanatic of which would charm them to protect it from being stolen by others.
Harry finished off the treat and licked his fingers. Looking to the couches, Harry saw Ron doubled over clutching his stomach and Hermione looking at him with a raised eyebrow. "Er, Hermione?"
"Yes, Harry?" she replied tearing her eyes from their downed friend.
"What's wrong with Ron?" asked Harry, approaching the duo.
"It seems Ronald has picked up some tricks from Fred and George;" Harry raised an eyebrow. "He successfully stole and devoured ten sweetrolls and now his stomach hurts."
Harry nodded. "You going to be okay for the reading, Ron?"
The ginger coughed. "Dunno..." he coughed a second time and a sour look passed over his green face.
"I think you'd better sit this one out, Ron." sighed Harry. "Go back to the dorm and sleep it off, y'know?"
Ron nodded and weakly called for his transport-elf. Disappearing with a soft pop, he left Harry and Hermione alone for the day. Unsupervised.
There was silence for a moment until Hermione patted the spot next to her on a the couch and Harry moved to sit with his secret fuck buddy. The Gryffindor bookworm rested her head in the crook of Harry's neck and she sighed. "Can we skip the reading today and just stay like this?"
Harry chuckled. "Hermione Granger, Lady of the Library, not wanting to read a one thousand year old book? Who are you, really?"
She hit his chest with the back of her hand. "Harry James Potter... I'll have you know that I do other things than read."
"I know you do," trailed Harry suggestively, a waggle in his eyebrows.
Hermione blushed. "Hush, you."
They sat quietly together for nearly an hour when Harry said, "we really should get started on the journal."
Hermione, who was half-asleep, made a low-pitched keening noise. "Dunwanna..."
Harry smiled. "I can't guess how it'll effect me if I go too long without reading some of it and to be honest I don't really want to know..."
Hermione cracked an eye open. "Fine," she said petulantly, a pout on her face.
Harry gently shifted his slumbering friend and tapped the journal with his wand. Settling back down on the couch, Harry transfigured a spare pillow into a throw blanket which he draped over the two of them as the journal's feminine voice filled the room.
000
After stealing away from the little hamlet where I completed my first act of prostitution (though at the time I refused to admit that that was what it had been) I had left for Fort Red Hawk, the goblin's ill-gotten base of operations...
000
Amoda jogged through the forest, each step taking her further away from the village where she had stolen the virginity from a soon-to-be-wed boy. Every second took her closer to her first real fight and she was finding herself growing more and more nervous with every passing moment.
The greenhorn ranger passed through a forest (catching lunch- an unfortunate rabbit that had stayed still long enough to be pegged with a thrown knife) and entered a vast plain. She eventually reached a rocky outcropping around dusk and a hundred or so feet away stood Fort Red Hawk.
It was a weather beaten building of rough, gray stone. It's walls were crumbling in areas but it still looked as though it could withstand a beating.
Amoda looked to the setting sun and decided to wait the hour or so until darkness had settled for the night.
000
Hermione, more awake now, shifted so she could pay more attention to the journal.
000
It was nearly pitch black and Amoda relied on the sparse moonlight to cross the last bit of grasslands as she approached the fort from it's north side. Her hood was up and she moved as fluidly as she could.
It took only moments for her to be standing in the shadow of the wall, torchlight shining from windows in the stone palisade. She heard raised voices speaking in a guttural language and she shivered. Amoda had no idea how many goblins were inhabiting the garrison. How many she would have to kill to claim her reward.
The ranger hardened her heart, these goblins were little better than bandits. Murderers. How many of the Jarl's soldiers were killed by these little beasts? Amoda scowled and decided to scout her quarry.
000
The scene shifted.
000
It was hours later, judging by the position of the moon, and Amoda crouched in the shadow of the large rocky out cropping a hundred feet from Fort Red Hawk.
"Five." she whispered. "Five raiders, and those are just the ones outside." She sighed; there was no way she could take that many goblins in straight up combat. She'd need to use stealth. Amoda took her quiver off her back. She had twelve arrows which would allow her some leeway with her aim. It being as dark as it was it would be hard to make half of her hits.
The Ranger scurried up the side of the rocky pile until she could clearly see over the crumbling walls. Her hood up, Amoda passed for a decent fake rock so she wasn't too worried about being seen.
Amoda knocked an arrow on her bowstring and picked a target; a squat little being with bumpy green skin and razor sharp claws. It stood under a torch, easy pickings, thought the ranger. She let her missile fly and smiled a bit when the goblin fell forward, an arrow jutting from it's neck.
The thing's gurgling drew the other four companions who surrounded it in scant seconds.
Amoda smiled as an idea struck her; tying the exploding potion to her arrow head, she took aim, making sure to compensate for the weight of the volatile liquid. She loosed her second arrow and actually chuckled when it landed and exploded in blue fire, vaporizing the other four guardsgoblins.
A bell started ringing within the fort and the main doors on the ground level were thrust open with a bang as ten more goblins stomped their way outside. (As much as something so small could stomp.)
Amoda gulped and took aim at the scurrying creatures.
000
Ten arrows later, Amoda scowled as three goblins still yet remained in the world of the living.
Amoda reset her quiver and bow upon her back and climbed down the back side of the outcropping. The ranger sneaked to the garrisons' front gate. Amoda pulled her axe from it's belt loop and limbered her arm. She peeked around the corner and rushed the closest goblin that had it's back to her.
With a scream, she planted her axe head inbetween the little beast's shoulder blades. Amoda blinked purple blood out of her eye and wrenched her weapon out of the very dead goblin.
She barely had time to raise her shield before the other two were upon her.
One, wielding a sword, thrust forward and Amoda parried the weapon with her shield and swiped with her axe. The goblin dodged gracefully for something with such small legs.
The second goblin jumped for her and Amoda put her shield under the tiny uruk and thrust upwards, sending the thing into the air. It landed on it's back and Amoda raked her axe across it's chest.
The first goblin swung at her back and Amoda turned and put her shield between them, the blade imbedding in the wooden barrier. The ranger wrenched her shieldarm sideways, dragging the goblin with her, and she swung downwards with her axe, separating the goblin's arm from it's body.
The thing staggered back, clutching it's freely bleeding stump
The ranger stalked to the goblin, intending to finish her first hunt, when the doors to the fort once again banged open and a goblin two times the size of the others stalked out. The thing was decked out in tough leather armor and had a red cloak. It had a silver sword strapped to it's back. Of course he was still only up to Amoda's waist height-wise so he wasn't exactly intimidating. The ranger's eyes were drawn to the boss goblin's claws, longer than the others, they were painted a dazzling blue to match the sky on a summer day.
Amoda turned to the leader of the goblin raiders, correctly judging him to be the most dangerous one yet.
"So." snarled the goblin, his voice deep and resonating. "On such a clear night I have a noisy visitor. Tell me young warrior, what is your name?"
Amoda gulped; the goblin might have been well spoken but his voice held an undercurrent of menace that silently promised every cruelty imaginable. "A-Amoda." she said, cursing herself for stuttering.
The goblin bowed his flat head. "I am Krenko," he said. "And why are you here, making such a clammer during our dinner hour?"
"T-there's a mark... posted by Jarl Balgruff. They say that you raided this fort and slaughtered his soldiers."
The goblin spat on the ground. "Did your Jarl mention that this fort was built over land owned by the goblin nation?"
"No..." said Amoda, feeling small like a scolded child.
"Allow me to educate you... Twenty years ago, this plot of land was an independant village of Uruk. I was just a youngling, barely out of my teens, when your Jarl's men burned through this place, killing indiscriminately. I was driven out and fostered by my Sires' blood-brother in the kingdom under the western mountains. I grew and trained and sired a clan of my own, vowing to drive the humans from this place and take back what was ours!"
The goblin grasped his sword's hilt. "And now, young Amoda, I ask you one more question. These goblins that you bested in combat. That you killed. Did you know that they were my children?!"
Amoda's eyes widened and her axe nearly slipped from her grasp. "No... I..." she couldn't form words.
000
The journal paused and the riveted audience of two blinked as the Headmaster's charm read an entry aloud.
000
*Sigh*
I had thought of the goblins as simple bandits. Beings who murdered because they could. Mosters undeserving of compassion. I never considered the son of a slighted species vowing revenge on wrongdoings from his past. Nor that he might have had a family of his own.
I thought of my own Matr and my little brother, warm in their pallets in the cottage that was no longer my home. What would I do if our situations were reversed? If someone had barged in on us and killed them so suddenly...
000
Amoda could do nothing but gape wordlessly at the bossgoblin.
"You greenhorns..." snarled Krenko. "You always go in half-cocked, never realizing what your actions mean. Murderers murdering murderers."
His last sentence snapped her out of her stupor. "So you admit to killing the soldiers protecting this garrison?"
The larger than normal Uruk stayed silent for a moment until finally, he answered with a question: "So one wrong turn deserves another and another and another? A never ending cycle of death and revenge."
Amoda felt that their conversation was nearing it's end and she gripped her axe handle tightly.
"Very well!" exclaimed the Goblin. "One last fight. Kill me, warrior! It's the only way to end this! Elseways I'll return with more soldiers and take back what is not just mine but what is also yours!" Krenko launched himself at Amoda, drawing his sword as he went, and she rolled to the right out of the way of harm. The ranger gave a clumsy swing at the goblin's midsection but he dodged gracefully.
"Are these the skills that killed my sons?" questioned the bossgoblin, rage in his voice. "Any one of them could have bested you! How did you do it, youngling? Stealth? Assassination?" He took Amoda's silence for a positive answer. "At least we had the decency to tell the soldiers protecting this place that we were coming. We gave warning and met honorably on the field of battle. We were a conquering army and you are the murdering bandit!"
Once more, the goblin charged forward, bringing his blade in for a slice at her legs. Amoda jumped over the sword and spun around, swinging her axe overhead for a powerful vertical chop.
The Ranger's attack met air and she was starting to see how outmatched she was.
Krenko spun and cut diagonally, slicing through her brass pauldron as though it wasn't there and opening a shallow wound on her shoulder
"You realize now?" spat Krenko. "You're not ready for this life! After just a brief conversation my speechcraft has already sapped your will to fight! You need to be ruthless to be a Hunter, you're green!"
Grunting, Amoda threw her axe at the goblin who was forced to parry, knocking the edged weapon into a tree, where it stuck, a few inches deep, into the wood. As the goblin followed through with his defensive maneuver Amoda pulled a dagger from her belt and rushed him. With a scream, she buried her knife into the beast's gut.
The goblin gurgled for a moment, a surprised expression crossing his flat features. Amoda's panting breath hitched as she felt something sharp imbed itself in her own stomach. The two combatants had stabbed each other!
Amoda slumped forward on top of the goblin. She felt scarlet blood stain her tunic and seep through her chainmail shirt. Krenko muttered something in his harsh sounding native tongue and twisted the blade. Tears dribbled from her icy blue eyes and trailed marks down her smudged cheeks.
"On this day," said Krenko, "it is only you who die. For me this pain is merely temporary." The bossgoblin pushed her forward and she landed on her back, Krenko's goblin wrought blade stuck out at an awkward angle from an area underneath her lungs.
The last thing she saw before her vision faded was Krenko downing a red concoction from a glass phial.
000
This next memory is hard to show others. It doesn't depict me at my best. It's actually one of my worst memories, and when I would come against the creatures known as Dementors later in my travels this was what I would see. Me at my weakest, completely at the mercy of someone who not only wanted me dead, but wanted to make me suffer first.
Of course, Krenko was not the last who wanted to kill me, but he was the first in an unfortunate trend.
Rape is a horrible thing.
000
Hermione gasped her eyes wide in horror, she couldn't imagine how awful it must be to be completely at someone's mercy in such a bad way. And not only was Amoda implying that Krenko had his way with her, but she hints that he won't be the last to force themselves on her.
Harry would've been more appalled if he hadn't immediately connected the incident with Daphne and Tracey before breakfast to Amoda over a thousand years in the past. Not that there were only two instances of rape or near rape, but that Harry would be involved with them, at least indirectly.
It was an odd coincidence, if it was indeed coincidence.
The two turned back to the journal and took in the scene before them; Amoda was chained to a wall in a cave. Water dripped from the ceiling and made plopping sounds on the clay ground. She was stripped naked and the wound where she had been stabbed and the small cut on her shoulder were partially healed.
000
Amoda would've rubbed her head if she had the option. She had a horrible migraine similar to the one she had after her first night of drinking with Elfradr over two months ago. A damp breeze rolled by and she felt her nipples harden as her skin went a splotchy red.
"Well this is bad." muttered the Ranger. "I'm naked, cold, and chained to a wall in who-knows-where. I don't know where my weapons are or how I got here." Amoda curled into a ball as best as she could, trying to preserve as much core body heat as possible.
The Viking girl didn't know how long she sat there, the damp ground freezing her pale bum. Her nipples had not softened once during this time and they were starting to get sore. Finally, Amoda put her head down, dejected with what seemed her final fate. "Is this your plan, Krenko?" she slurred to the air. "Chain me to a wall and let me freeze, or starve, to death? Bit cruel isn't it? If you were going to kill me the shiv you put in my gut d'be kinder."
"But why," answered the surrounding darkness, "would I want to show a kindness to the murderer who slaughtered my children." Amoda heard the snap of flint on stone and the sound of kindling crackling to life. Soon, the cave was illuminated by a fire and the Ranger saw Krenko leaning against a wall on the opposite side of the cave. He was naked save for a pair of burgundy leggings. Scars littered his green skin, the knife wound from Amoda the newest in his collection. "Even this fire it just a little too far away to provide you with any warmth, though I am quite comfortable I assure you."
"You should've left me to die, goblin." said Amoda, hiding her blush with her auburn hair and glaring at Krenko through her eyelashes. "If I escape, I'll certainly do my best to kill you." She tightened herself into a ball in order to hide her nudity though she new it must be for naught as Krenko had to have been the one who undressed her in the first place
The goblin breathed heavily through his nose. "I let you live for a very select reason. Even though you used cowardly tactics you still succeeded in massacring my entire clan singlehandedly. In proper Uruk tradition that makes you strong. Strong women are a good thing. From your womb I will breed a new army. One capable of storming Balgruff's keep. Half goblin, half Human, getting the strengths of both..."
Krenko approached his horrified captive, a cruel glint in his beady black eyes. "A single female goblin can birth up to a dozen younglings in one go, how much can your human physiology handle, I wonder?" He knelt infront of Amoda and grasped her knees, using them to forcefully spread her legs, fully bringing her cunt into view. "On one hand, you're bigger so you should be able to hold more, but you lack my people's natural constitution."
Amoda squirmed as the goblin brought his nose in for a long sniff at her feminine folds. "You have mated just recently. Who is your lover, youngling?" The goblin didn't give her time to blush because his beady black eyes widened slightly. "Two lovers! At your young age that's quite the accomplishment, little whore. That such an innocent looking little cunt had already accepted several cocks..."
Krenko pulled back and undid the lacing to his pants. "Fear." said the bossgoblin. "You are afraid of me. What I'm going to do to you." The goblin sneered, "good. I want you afraid. That'll make it better for me."
Amoda clenched her eyes shut as she heard Krenko drop his pants to the ground. She felt the goblin's clawed hand grasp her head and forcefully turn it to face him. "Look at me!" he commanded giving her head a squeeze, and Amoda found herself unable to deny his order.
Not five inches from her face was the oddest looking phallus she had ever seen. It was red and long, probably ten inches. Thicker than Elfradr's but lacking the head. It had an hourglass shape, thinner at the base but with a knot in the middle. It had bumps and ridges spiraling up it's length.
Amoda didn't think anything so large could fit inside of her especially with as unnaroused as she was.
The goblin removed his hand from her head and brought it to his shaft, tugging a few times to test his hardness. Amoda bit her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as Krenko lined his angry, red rod at the ranger's fuck-tunnel.
He gave one thrust and Amoda cried out as her dry hole was split wider than ever upon the goblin's cock. It felt even worse than that split second when Elfradr had taken her maiden head and it seemed unending as Krenko grunted and started sawing his member out of her abused cunny.
Spitting on his hand, The goblin pulled entirely out and rubbed his penis down until it glistened. "I do not do this for you, whore; this comfort is for me. I just don't want to be chaffed, I plan on using you for a while yet."
Tears fell from Amoda's icy blue eyes as Krenko once again violated her unwilling hole. The entry was easier the second time but she still gave resistance, her body desperately trying to push the invader out. Amoda winced even further as Krenko made a small cut above her lady-bits. Allowing scarlet blood to dribble out and down her entrance.
Krenko gave a rumbling growl and sped up his thrusts as the Ranger's life blood lubricated his cock. He grasped at her hips and his sky-blue claws sank into her skin, tearing a petrified scream from her throat that echoed on the cave's mildewed walls.
000
Hermione had long ago turned from the journal, tears seeping from her eyes. Her shoulders were tense and she flinched at every sound from the rape of Amoda.
Harry grasped his wand, his right hand shaking, and longed to hurt Krenko with a passion he had only ever felt for Voldemort, and usually only after a judicious application of the Torture Curse.
The wizard forced himself to watch Amoda's suffering, a bile building in the back of his throat.
000 Chapter End 000
Author's Note: Urgh. I've never finished writing a chapter and felt physically ill before. I stopped here for two reasons, one: The word count was getting too high, capping off at just over 5600 words. Two: I needed a break! This chapter was the most difficult thing I've ever had to write. It took forever because I kept stopping and switching over to work on something else...
On an unrelated note: I'll be moving to San Francisco sometime in January or at the beginning of February so updating might be even more sparse than it has been for the last several months.
Then again, I might get a good internet connection and I can update as soon as I finish a chapter...
Alas, all is shrouded in the dense fog of the unknowable future!
It's my hope that you leave a review! I never thought that I'd ask this, but what did you think of the rape scene? I was trying to convey the terror Amoda must've felt as well as the violence and spite of the act without going into detail on the rape itself... I hope it's not bad enough to get my story deleted.
Not so sure if I was successful... Ah well, I gave a warning at the top of the page.