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Horse Lady of Rohan  by Mimi Lind

Trigger warning: attempted assault. 

12. Captured by Orcs

“Shush now, darlin’.” The voice sounded like a growl, and the owner’s foul breath was hot on Wynne’s neck.

“Oo she’s one tasty bite, can I have a nibble?” A second orc came into her view. His dark face was nearly bald, and he had a bent nose that looked like it had been broken repeatedly.

“Get off, Burz! She ain’t for eatin’. She’s leverage.”


“Dimwit! If those freakin’ elves comes after us, we can hurt her to make ‘em back off. Get me now?” 

Wynne whimpered at that, and tried to squirm out of the orc’s grip, but stopped dead when she felt the sharp prick of a knife at her throat.

“Don’t move, luv! I love a frisky gal as much as anyone, but this ain’t the time or place.” His insinuating tone made Wynne cringe.

The orcs quickly tied her hands behind her back, and the first orc flung her on his broad shoulder, were she hung like a sack of potatoes. Then they ran at speed. 

Wynne’s position made her dizzy and disoriented, and she had no idea which way they went. Her terror was mixed with anger, how could she have let the orcs surprise her like that? She knew the elves were exceptional trackers, but her captors were on foot, would they leave a visible trail now? And even if the elves somehow managed to follow, the orcs had said they would use her as a shield. She had just made the elves’ task to kill the orcs a lot harder. 

Was this not exactly what Thranduil had meant when he warned her not to come, that first day? She meant trouble. She was a burden. 

The orcs finally stopped, apparently to catch their breath, and meanwhiles they talked in another language. The speech sounded harsh and ugly, and Wynne could not even tell if they were arguing or talking friendly.

She was still hanging upside-down, and the blood that accumulated in her head made the dizziness stronger. 

She tried to look about her. Were the elves on their way? She could not see anything but tall grass.

Then they were off again, the fast pace still kept. The orc shoulder became sweaty, and the smell worsened Wynne’s nausea. Despite herself she threw up, but the orcs did not even seem to notice, they just ran on.

It was hard to measure the time under the circumstances, so Wynne had no idea how long the run lasted, but they stopped eventually and dropped her to the ground. When the blood left her face, Wynne became even more giddy and she threw up again.

“Oo, the little tidbit’s feelin’ sick, poor thing.” The dark orc sniggered.

“Yeah, and she ain’t gonna feel better later.” 

Wynne could now see the orc that had carried her clearly for the first time. He was a lot bigger than the other, had more grayish skin color and a large silver ring in his nostril. His hair was coarse and black, and made into a bunch of ruffled braids. The eyes were the only normal looking part of his face, they were pale blue and strangely human.

The big orc bent down over the side of a grassy hill, and dug away dirt with his hands until a round, wooden door was uncovered. On the inside a dark path went into the hill, and Wynne felt a musty, cellar-like smell. She shivered when she realized this was were they were going to hide. 

“Down you go, luv.” The big orc pointed. Wynne dared not refuse, they were both stronger than her, and had weapons. 

The hole was just as dark, moist and disgusting as one might have imagined. The path was only a few yards long, and so low Wynne had to crouch. It opened up into what felt like a slightly bigger cave, but it was pitch black and impossible to tell. The orcs soon joined her, they had a metal lantern that gave a weak light. Wynne could now see they were in a round room, perhaps ten yards wide and tall enough that even the bigger orc could stand upright in the middle. Boxes and sacks littered one side in an unorganized mess, and on the other side were a row of what looked like beds. The air reeked of stale food, earth and filth. This seemed to be were the orc band had lived. 

Wynne wondered what had happened to the rest of the gang, had the elves killed them? She had not seen how the battle ended, and did not even know who had won. What if the other orcs would come soon, and say that they had defeated the elves? Wynne would become orc supper then. 

“Now what?” asked the dark orc.

“Now we rest. And wait.” The big orc pushed Wynne toward the beds and thrust her down on one of them. Her arms were still tightly bound, and the pain made her whimper.

The orcs sat on each side of her. Wynne did not like the hungry look in the smaller one’s face.

“Can’t we have a teeny weeny taste? Do we really need the whole of her for that lever– leverthingy?” He licked his black lips, showing a crowded row of sharp, yellow teeth.

No , Burz, they ain’t gonna back off if she’s damaged. However...” The big orc had a calculating look in his blue eyes. 

“Yeah? What, Lug?”

“We could have fun with her in other ways.” He let one calloused finger trace up Wynne’s arm. She desperately tried to back away, but the dirt wall of the cave stopped her. 

“There ain’t nothin’ funnier than eatin’.”

“Well I have an appetite for other things too. If you’re hungry, have some dried meat.”

“Fresh meat is nicer,” Burz muttered, but he still went off to the sacks and began rummaging among them. Lug meanwhiles turned his attention back to Wynne. 

“Now, darlin’, what shall I do with you?” He hovered over her trembling body and pulled out a long knife. Wynne closed her eyes tightly, expecting a sharp pain any moment, but instead she felt him tear the front of her tunic and the chemise underneath. She did not know if that was a relief, or worse than being cut. Her eyes filled with tears.

She felt cold air on her torso when the orc uncovered it. She became strangely passive then, her limbs numb and rigid. When he roughly grasped her breast, she remained motionless.

“Ain’t you a pretty sight, eh? Now, spread those sweet legs for me.”

When Wynne did not react, he pulled them apart by force. She felt distant, like her mind had gone some way off and left her limp body on the grimy orc bed. Someone was crying, and she realized it was herself.

“Yukk! You are freakin’ bleedin’ !” The orc hastily stood up. “Dammit woman, you should of said!”

“Did you get any of it on you?” Burz asked, his mouth full of meat.

“No, luckily not.” Lug gave Wynne’s leg a kick. “You little witch thought you could curse me, eh?” He spat on the ground.

Wynne just looked back at him, baffled. Were orcs afraid of blood? How could that be? Then it dawned on her. He must be talking about her period. She had her monthly bleeding, and somehow that sort of blood scared them.

Lug went to sit by his friend, leaving Wynne alone. She breathed a little more calmly again, and the strange numbness had gone. She had been saved in the strangest way imagined. Were human and elf males this scared of period blood as well? 

She looked down, and saw that she still wore her linen underpants, stuffed with the dried grass she kept there to soak up the fluids. The big orc must have smelled the blood on her before he had removed them. It was a relief not to be entirely in the nude, but she wished she could close the front of her tunic. With her hands behind her back, she was unable to.

The most immediate danger was over, but the blood incident had only bought her a little extra time. They could still hurt her, or kill her. And what if she had to stay here for several days? Her cycle would soon be over, and then she was fair game again.

Wynne hated how weak she was. Why had she not even tried to defend herself? She had just laid there, and allowed the orc to have his way with her. Tears of shame and dismay trickled down her cheeks, and bound as she were she had no way of wiping them off.


Thanks for reading! 

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