Sorogrim wakes me up. I've been resting fitfully all night. My children will never forgive me for letting you live this long. Adar's words have kept me alert. He might have ordered them to only cut me if I'm trying to run away, but some might want to stray from that order. I sit upright, groaning. My whole body hurts after last night's act.

"I truly believed Adar finished you off last night," Sorogrim says, putting down water and bread beside me. "Judging by your screams, I'd say he did you good."
I cough, almost choking on water. I know how loud I was, and how thin the gauze is. Who knows what some might have seen, or heard, walking by us yesterday; I don't really care, but having Sorogrim stating the obvious though he probably thought I was being tortured, sends a hot flush across my face. Not sure what to say to that statement, I shove a piece of bread into my mouth.
"Hmm, not very talkative today, are we?" Sorogrim grunts.
"It's not you, it's me," I say and drink more water. "I feel like a broken pile of bones."
"I knew Adar wouldn't disappoint us," Sorogrim grins and I choke on water once again.
"He sure didn't," I second, my mind running ragged with glimpses of last night; Adar's muscular torso, strong arms, and scarred skin, which I clawed at like a wild cat. His manhood, filling and stretching me, his lips marking me.
"Hey, she-elf!" Sorogrim roars. "You have work to do," he commands. "You will come with me and work on the tunnel. Adar's orders."
I summon my thoughts, shoving another piece of bread into my mouth, the rest into my pocket. When I stand up I sway on my feet. I feel like utter crap, but deep down I know I deserve to feel this way; Cheap and corrupted. I've mated with the enemy. Who knows what may fester inside my body?

I follow Sorogrim, walking close behind him. I know he has orders to keep me alive, to oversee my work, so somehow I feel safe around him. I know his ill will towards me must run deep, that he hopes to see me suffer, but his respect for Adar runs deeper.

Sunlight shines on my face and I feel almost reborn stepping outside of the tunnel. I stare up at the bright sky and sigh, a single tear running down my cheek. I might have become a creature of the dark stalking orcs in the dead of night, but I still love the light. What I've been told and know it's symbolizing; Hope.

"Another elf!" a woman exclaims. I am ripped from my stupor and look around me, seeing the very men and women I was recklessly determined to free.
They start to mutter among themselves, and I hear them say I look worse for wear than they do. I believe them. Their whispers and halt in work are shortly reprimanded by the watchful Uruks, whips slashing air and skin.

"Here," Sorogrim says and shoves a tool into my hands. They've managed to create some sort of device that digs but can't be used as a weapon. They've thought of everything. I guess I just have to be creative if the need to maim arises. Sorogrim shoves me towards my station. "Dig," he growls behind me. And I do. For whatever abstruse purpose they are going to use it for.

I dig for hours, hearing faint mutters between the humans. She's an elf! We might still have a chance. We must try to get away. We can't give up yet! I hear it all, being weighed down by it. I glance at them sometimes, to study their condition. They are weak and meager, and the Uruks keep punishing them for being slug and slow.

---

"That's enough," Sorogrim says when the sun sets. "I've been instructed to take you back to your grotto." I wipe my forehead on my shirt's sleeve. It's so dirty I can't see the light gray any longer. I hand back the tool I've been using to another Uruk before I follow Sorogrim. Judging by the height and slightly smaller frame, I think the Uruk's a she. She snarls at me. I don't blame her. The woman and men look at me as I depart. I see some have fallen during the day's labor. I lower my head, knowing I'm entering the enemy's den.

Before I step into the alcove I've come to know as my temporary prison, Sorogrim unchains me. The gesture sends my mind into a bewildered state, and I get even more perplexed when I see that a large wash basin has been placed inside my confinement. I'm shocked. This can only be Adar's doing and command.
"Wash up, she-elf," Sorogrim says, pushing me in its direction. "You reek worse than I do."
I almost laugh, already lifting the wrecked shirt I tried to mend yesterday above my head. Sorogrim's seen me tied up and exposed, but when I start to take off my pants he takes his leave. I'm so eager to feel water on my skin, I don't even care if it's cold. It's not, it's warm. It also has a faint, herby scent to it. I sigh with delight, letting the sensation of getting clean envelope me.

"Mordo nehtar," Adar says when pulling aside the gauze. I open my eyes to behold him. He's not wearing his armor, which I find a bit strange. I study his shirt, silver embroidery adorning his neck collar. I wonder where he got it. I don't think the Uruks have it in them to create something that's not grotesque. Their attires are morbid, decorated with bones and sharp edges, anything that can stab and kill.
Adar walks over to the basin. He's holding a cloth and something made out of bones. He kneels, drenching the cloth in the water. He doesn't say anything, just brings the cloth to my face like he did the morning after he'd first touched me. He washes my face til he seems content with getting all the grime away. He looks at my hair. I lowered myself fully under the water, letting my hair soak shortly after sitting down in the basin but Adar's not pleased with it.
"It needs to be soaked again," he points to my head, his long finger and sharp nail judging me. I lean backward, my bosom rising above the water, my nipples hardening in the cold air. Adar runs his bare hand through my hair. When I emerge, he uses the bony comb to untangle it. He's still and gentle, tending to me. It makes me wonder if he's done this before.

I let him pamper me, washing my back. I sit in the water till it's almost too cold. When I finally rise, Adar rakes his gaze over my wet body before he puts a blanket around my shoulders.
"Why are you doing this to me? Being kind, that is?" I ask.
"Sorogrim said you followed orders," he says. "Complying without contempt."
I think about the fallen men and women, their bodies surely left to rot as we move on down the tunnel.
"I did comply," I say. "Now reward me."
Adar's smile is nothing short of nefarious. I shudder, not from the cold, but from what he does to me.
He looks to the ground, and I notice a thicker blanket has replaced the filthy one from earlier today. I walk over to it, putting the blanket I'm wearing over it as well. Adar comes up behind my naked body, his ungloved hand snaking around my waist, his armored one pushing my hair out of the way, exposing my neck. He presses his lips to my skin, kissing, biting, his hand roaming over my body. "Lay down," he purrs. I do as I'm told, stretching out on the blanket, my back against it, my whole form exposed. He's already removed his shirt, but his glove is put back on. I wonder what he's hiding.
"Spread your legs." His husky command makes me breathe heavily. I move my legs apart, and while I do, he undoes his pants. When he stands before me in his might, my whole body becomes alert with animal allure. My gaze wanders over his tall being, from his head to his feet and back again. He's so vigorous, toned muscles rippling down his arms, torso, and legs. My eyes rest on his manhood, and I look upon the rigid flesh that stretched my slight womanhood into submission last night.
"Yonyo," I tease. He's such a big boy. "Acca hoa an ni."
"You didn't seem to think so last night," Adar growls, getting down on his knees.
"I'm still sore," I say, tracing my right hand down my body to my womanhood.
"I might be too big for you, but you're acca cinta an ni." The look on his face, and the tone of his voice, are already sending me close to the edge of ecstasy. I sit up, needing to kiss him, to taste him. I cup his face between my hands and place my mouth on his. I moan, kissing him sultry. I want him so bad, I'm a pool of moist mischief before he's even entered me. He pushes me back on the cloth, grasping my hips. He grabs his cock, ready to ram himself inside me, but thinks better of it, teasing me. He slaps his shaft against my clit, and I mewl with mirth. 
"Heru," I plead my master. "Heru, mapa-ni sin!"
"So impatient," he smirks. "Don't worry, you will be rewarded, mordo nehtar." He crams his cock into my cunt, and I gasp.
"Lissë milmë," I pant. It's such a sweet desire, filling me with sweet greed. I am his. I want more, I need more. When he leans down over me, thrusting his shaft into me with steady, steep slams, I grab his face, kissing him sloppy. My tongue mingles with his, and I moan and pant rapidly. I marvel at the sensation of feeling his length slide in and out of my slick slit. His pelvis crashes against my swollen clit, and I am so ready to untether the tension inside me. "Rato," I utter gaspingly.
"Ala voro," Adar gnars, slowing his pace. He looks down at me, leaning down to kiss me, his cock entering me slowly, again and again. "We got all night," he purrs against my lips.
"Lá," I agree. "But you're too good at this, I can't control what you conjure." I can feel his lips smirk against mine.
"Then I will summon and suspend your rapture till the lines become a blur and I can't tell which way is up and then I'll fall into the void of want with you."
"Lá," I agree again. Yes. He's so eloquent and ethereal, and I let him guide me. I'm on the brim, being pulled back from diving in over and over again, panting and pleading for release. It's intolerable cruelty to be denied climax, but I savor every minute of his strength and strain from coming himself. When he's had me every which way but loose, my cunt swollen with drenched desire, I can tell he's not able to restrain himself any longer.
"Tul-as ni," I moan. "Tul-as ni!" Come with me, come with me! He does, we do. I cry out in utter ecstatic delight, finally being allowed to unravel at his might. "San mará!" So good! I moan so loud I know every Uruk and prisoner must hear me. I don't care. Adar would have silenced me if he didn't want them to know what he was doing to me. His guttural groans of gratification are loud too, and I revel in them, coming again, so much tension needing to be freed from the tremendous work-up. We're kissing sultry, panting hard, holding onto each other harder. "Ninya Heru," I purr, kissing him again.

---

He lays on top of me for a while, and I hear his heavy breathing by my ear. I run my hands across his back, feeling the scarred tissue. I want him to tell me who he is, where he comes from, and what's been done to him. He's a son of the dark. One of the Moriondor.
I can still feel his semi-hardness inside me, and I dread when he'll withdraw. I kiss his shoulder, running my hand through his hair.
"Heru," I say. "If you ever want to tell me what you've endured, you can."
He raises his head, looking down at my face.
"Whenever you want and whatever you want to tell, I will listen. Listen and not judge."
Adar's eyes soften, and when he brings his lips to mine, they are just as soft. We kiss for a long, long time. He becomes erect again, and before I know it, we're both coming hard and fast, free-falling into the void of want we've created and conjured.