On the Slopes of Caradhras

Enduriel awoke that evening with no memory or the night before, nor (to Fenrohir's relief) earlier that morning. He had clad her while she slept in some of the spare garments she kept in her pack. Though Enduriel stared for a moment at the strange things, frowning as though trying to reckon how she had come to be so clothed, she said nothing. Fenrohir suspected she still ached a great deal, but perhaps was too embarrassed to speak of it.

"What a pity I cannot recall that damnable password," she muttered sullenly as they shouldered their packs and headed out of the dell. As they skirted the perilous lake, Fenrohir searched the waters for signs of life, but there were none. Just as well--he felt he had only narrowly escaped a much worse fate, and did not wish to try his luck a second time with the strange monster.

They had decided to make for the Redhorn Gate, a road which would lead them up the treacherous cliffs of Caradhras. Why Enduriel insisted on taking such a hazardous road, Fenrohir could only guess; she claimed only to be looking for adventure. Well, she had found it, and if she did not remember it, then she seemed none the worse for wear.

It was a cool spring evening that grew colder as the evening went on. Enduriel was clad now in the clothes she had brought for cooler weather: a thin white blouse paired with a pair of short cotton trousers rolled up to her knee. She wore on her feet a pair of light walking shoes. Though she made no complaint, Fenrohir could see she was growing colder with each passing step.

Finally he stopped. "Enduriel, you will catch your death of cold without warmer clothes," he pleaded. "I myself find the chill of the night wind difficult to bear. Come, let us build a fire and warm ourselves beside it." Indeed, a breeze had picked up and flowed cool and swift down the mountain to greet them.

"I have already told you, Fenrohir, we cannot build a fire," said Enduriel. "There are creatures in these hills that I fear a fire would only draw to us. We cannot risk such an attack."

Fenrohir thought once more of the encounter with the tentacled beast, but said nothing. "And I suppose freezing to death is a better alternative," he retorted hotly. "At least then the creatures that find us won't find us particularly tasty."

Enduriel stopped and threw up her hands. "Very well," she said. "Very well, we'll light a fire. But when it brings every warg, wolf, and who knows what else here looking for a evening meal, I won't hear any complaints from you."

They had climbed to the knees of Caradhras; Fenrohir cast about searching for a place to camp that would be hidden from what was quickly becoming a cold, biting wind. To his great joy, he found a small cave set away in the rocky hills: it did not appear to be home to any living creature, and as Enduriel prepared their evening meal, Fenrohir quickly set about building up a fire at the mouth of the cave.

Soon, they were roasting bits of meat on sticks over the fire, talking and laughing together like they had so often done before. Fenrohir brought out a flask of a strong draught from Bree, which they passed between them. Enduriel's eyes were shining brightly in the firelight: Fenrohir was happy to see her so happy once again.

Suddenly they heard footsteps outside the cave. Fenrohir's hand went to the knife at his belt. "Who's there?" he called gruffly, rising to his feet.

Abruptly the twinkling stars outside the cave were blotted out by a huge shape. It stepped closer into the firelight, and Enduriel cried out in fear. Though neither of them had before seen such a beast, they knew instinctively that it was a great cave troll which stood there, staring at them.

"What may you be wanting?" demanded Fenrohir, striding forward to meet this new foe. "Away with you, if you mean us harm."

To his surprise, the troll began to speak. "Begging your pardon," he said, "but this is my cave. You and your companion had better be off before I roast the two of you for dinner!"

"I did not know trolls spoke in the common tongue," Fenrohir replied with amazement, for though the troll's words were harsh, his tone was rather polite.

The great beast nodded. "Most do not. I learned the language of Man during my time in Moria, where an allegience was formed between troll and dwarf. They taught me both the tongues of Dwarves and Man. At the time I did not see the purpose of this, and thought it rather a waste of time. Now I see that it was well done indeed, for you seem a pleasant man, and not one with whom I would wish to fall so quickly to blows."

Fenrohir smiled, sheathing his knife. "Then if this is your cave, let us share it with you! Our fire is warm and we would be happy to have such intelligent company."

So the troll sat down beside Enduriel, and she beside Fenrohir. They talked and laughed long into the night, sharing tales of their respective adventures. The troll carried with him a bottle of his own spirits, and he brought it out now, sharing it with the two travelers. As they drank, they told the troll of their quest to pass through the Redhorn Gate.

The troll shook his head. "I am sorry, my friends, but you'll never get there. Caradhras is not fond of visitors, especially the likes of you. Meaning no offense," he added with a wink. "I know a secret way through the mountains, a secret way used by trolls and other mountain-dwellers. Unfortunately, that is one secret I must keep from the two of you." Despite Fenrohir's pleas, the troll would say no more on the matter. Eventually the conversation turned to other subjects.

Before long, it became evident that Enduriel was passing from pleasantly drunk to the more incapacitating kind. She sat listing against Fenrohir's shoulder, her lids drooping.

"It seems our pretty friend is in need of some rest," Fenrohir said softly, stroking her hair. She nodded sleepily into his shoulder.

"She is a pretty one indeed," the troll murmured, gazing down at her. Fenrohir glanced up at his massive companion, sensing an opportunity.

"She is lovely, one of the loveliest of our race," he agreed. "Her body is magnificent, and though her tongue is not always sweet, it can be put to better uses."

The troll's interest grew visibly. "For pleasure, I'll warrant. Our women do not mate for pleasure, only to produce offspring. It is...difficult to find satisfaction."

"What a grave misfortune," Fenrohir agreed, "especially when so beautiful a woman dozes here next to me. I can have her whenever I wish. It is true she may have taken more liquor than was good for her, but she'll still share my bed tonight if I desire it."

The troll looked at enviously at Enduriel. "Would that I too had such a companion. The nights are so cold and lonely."

Fenrohir saw his chance. "My friend, I lament to see you so disheartened. Perhaps we can make an arrangement between us."

The troll looked up, suddenly curious. "What have you in mind, man of Breeland?"

The trap had been set! "I will let you have your way with this beautiful woman if you will share with me the secret passage over the mountains," Fenrohir said quietly.

A slow smile crept over the troll's face. "Crafty indeed, my friend," he chuckled. "Very well, you have proved yourself a worthy man, befriending one whom all others would consider foe. Even though I could slay you as soon as look at you, I find your offer quite reasonable."

With this, the troll extended his great hand; Fenrohir took it, though it dwarfed his own. "Very well, we have a deal. Now tell me the secret way, and I will bid you good night."

Not only did the troll share with Fenrohir the secret passage, but he offered to lead him and his companion there in the morning. "Now, my friend, rest here beside the fire. I shall go deeper into the cave, where it is warm and you won't, perhaps, be woken."

Fenrohir watched the troll heave Enduriel's limp form gently over his shoulder and carry her deeper into the cave, bearing a single log from the fire as a torch. Fenrohir felt a twinge of guilt, but assuaged it, reminding himself that Enduriel would have driven both of them to a very bitter end attempting to pass through the Redhorn Gate. She was likely to benefit as much as he from this arrangement, though Fenrohir did not envy the pain she would inevitably feel in the morning.

---

Setting the log into a bracket in the wall, the troll lifted Enduriel off his shoulder and lay her down on the soft earth. Though he stood only ten feet tall (a bit small for a cave troll), he was nearly twice her height and three times her girth. Reaching down, he tore her shirt in two with his bare hands, casting the fabric aside. He looked with delight upon her large breasts; they were so large he could barely fit one in each large hand. The troll cupped them now, squeezing the soft flesh, his thumbs rolling her hard nipples.

Lifting her like a ragdoll up to his mouth, he stuck out his fat, eager tongue and lapped roughly at each tit. Saliva soon dripped from each nipple. The troll found he could stuff nearly half of one tit into his mouth at a time, which he did, sucking hard on the soft flesh.

At last his pulsing cock brought him back to his senses. It had pushed the loincloth he wore aside and now stood out more than a foot from his huge body, drizzling enough precum onto the dirt below to drown a small dog. He sat down on the floor of the cave, the mighty cock rising up from his lap.

Hungrily, the troll ripped away Enduriel's trousers. He examined her pussy briefly: it was wet, for drink always had an arousing effect on the girl. This pleased the troll greatly. Spreading her legs, he impaled (or tried to impale) her pussy on his shaft.

Deep as she was in her drunken slumber, Enduriel let out a moan of pain. The troll's dick was as fat as a bottle of brandy. Though she was still somewhat loose from the assault before, her pussy still refused to yield to the massive shaft. Her fat lips not even stretch around the tip.

Try though he might, the troll could not penetrate her little hole. With a growl, he lay her body on the floor in front of him and spread her legs. Though his cock was too large to fit inside her, his fingers slid in easily. In no time, he had stuffed two fingers from each hand into her sloppy cunt--the equivalent of two dicks. He began to pull his fingers apart, stretching her vaginal cavity open wide. Enduriel murmured in her sleep, but did not awake.

Her pussy gaped wider and wider, until the light of the torch the troll could see a fair distance into her well-stretched hole. Eagerly, he lifted her up by her pelvis, fingers still lodged deep inside, and set her down once more on the head of his cock. He fairly pulled her down onto the shaft, sliding his fingers out as the tip wormed its way in. The great troll pushed and twisted her around on his fat cock to aid the insertion, just as one might twist a cork in order to wedge it back into a bottle. When her pussy had taken the entire cock, he stopped for a moment to rest the muscles of her abused vagina. He smiled down at her body, admiring his work--her pelvis bulged out around the great width of his cock. When his cock pulsed, it pushed out the taut skin below her navel. Above it, her large titties rose and fell with each breath; he shook her gently to see them bounce and jiggle.

At last, desire overcame him, and he began once more to force her down onto his cock. He was not so gentle this time, but pushed hard, splitting her pussy wide open. The pain was enough to startle Enduriel into a sort of wakefulness. Her eyes fluttered open, seeing at once the great troll, naked, his hands about her waist. Confusion washed over her, drowning out for a moment the aching pain in her cunt: she looked up into his face, frowning. The troll leered down at her, his face twisted with lust.

"Awaken, my little beauty," he growled. "The pleasure is so much keener when you scream."

And scream she did. Suddenly his cock sank into her to the hilt, stretching her pussy wider than it had ever been stretched, wider than a woman giving birth. His cock thrust her internal organs aside in order to make room for its massive bulk. Enduriel's stomach bulged out to accomodate its entry, resembling that of a pregnant woman several months shy of giving birth. Once he had sank balls-deep into his precious quarry, the troll wasted no time, but immediately began to lift her off his cock and slam back in again.

Enduriel's shriek was piercing. Even in her drunken state, the pain was beyond unbearable--she felt as though she would be torn in two. She beat the troll with her fists and raked his arms with her nails, but he was a thing possessed, and would not cease or even slow his movements. Up and down, up and down, she bounced on his fat cock, her torso bulging out and shrinking with each thrust. Her tits bounced wildly, which greatly pleased the monster.

Suddenly he lifted her up entirely off his cock and brought her tits to his mouth, licking and sucking first one fat nipple, then the next. Between her aching thighs, Enduriel's pussy remained dialated to nearly the width of his cock. Her ravaged cunt lips hung limp around the loose, gaping hole: she looked raw and red and ruined.

But soon the troll had had his fill, and wanted more of her pussy. He sat her back down again, forcing his cock back up into her gaping cavity. All of the air in her cunt was immediately pushed out around his shaft, creating a tremendously loud farting sound that echoed throughout the cave. Enduriel, who thought she had run out of tears, burst afresh into a new bout of weeping, this time with embarrassment.

Above her, the troll laughed. "You should cry, you little whore. That was disgusting. Only dirty whores make noises like that with their loose little pussies. Are you my dirty little whore? Does your pussy open hungrily for my cock? Yeah, take it, take my huge fucking shaft, you dirty little bitch. Spread that cunt open, swallow my fat cock!"

All the while he fucked her, foul language of this sort spilled out of his mouth. He laughed at her, and slapped her tits, and called her cruel names. He even sucked on one of his fingers and slid it deep into her ass--the effect was much like forcing a small cock into her when she was already stuffed beyond belief with a monstrous one.

"Yeah, slut," he growled. "You like it when I finger-fuck your dirty little shit hole? You took it easily enough; I think you must like it that way, up your dirty fat ass. Ha, it's so loose, I bet you could even take my cock up that little asshole. Shall we try? I think we shall."

Enduriel screamed, louder than she had before; louder, in fact, than she ever had in her life. The scream woke the deeply slumbering Fenrohir, stretched out beside the fire at the mouth of the cave. He leapt to his feet and, grabbing a brand from the fire, ran back into the cave. There, to his horror, he found Enduriel on her hands and knees with the troll crouching behind her, aiming his cock for her puckered asshole.

Fenrohir ran forward and, with a great yell, smote the troll's cock with the flaming brand. The troll let out a terrible howl, clutching his injured cock; it was precisely the opportunity that Fenrohir needed. He thrust the torch into the great ball sac that hung below, one of the troll's few tender spots. WIth a roar, the troll crashed onto his side, rolling away into the shadows.

Fenrohir wasted no time, but grabbed Enduriel and pulled her to the mouth of the cave. He spoke no word, but removed his cloak and bound it around her shoulders. Then he unsheathed his knife and returned to where the troll lay.

Enduriel sat huddled by the fire, tears streaming down her face. She ached terribly, but was perhaps more embarrassed that her body had suffered so thorough a ravaging. Her pussy still gaped open and would not close; instead, she shut her thighs tight and wrapped the cloak tighter about her.

A great howl came from the back of the cave, and a scrabbling sound, but at last Fernohir emerged from the shadows, looking grim. His knife was nowhere to be seen.

"My dearest," he murmured, taking the shaking girl into his arms. He held her there until she drifted off into an unpleasant sleep, wrought with nightmares. Fenrohir himself sat long into the night until the stars began to fade and the sky to grow pale. Though he had slain the troll, it brought him little peace. They could now only guess where lay the secret passage through the mountains that had been described to him only vaguely; also, once the troll's body was discovered, Fenrohir and Enduriel would be hunted by every troll east of Rauros.

Finally, he very much doubted that Enduriel would wish to continue on. He looked down at her, sleeping close beside him. He pulled the blanket up beneath her chin, stroking her cheek tenderly. Though when she awoke he would not be able to admit to her that he had engineered the deal that had exposed her to the savagery of the troll, he could at least say to himself with all honesty that he had not even vaguely imagined the torture which she would endure at his hands.

No, they would not continue on--they would abandon their quest and return home, she to her father's house in Edoras, and he to the northwestern city of Bree. He lay himself down beside her one last time, sadness and regret lulling him at last into an uneasy sleep.