Dawn of Everdale

Ice cold water struck Alyss in the face, stealing her breath away as she jolted awake with a soundless gasp. She blinked rapidly as she looked around, straining against the bindings securing her arms behind her back as she desperately tried to orientate herself within the upside down world before her.

"Rise and shine, sweetheart," growled a coldly familiar voice.

The Bull stood over her, an empty bucket clasped in one of his large hands. The orc warlord was dressed in armoured greaves but his broad green chest was bare and seemed to glisten in the morning sun. He smiled cruelly at her, his yellow eyes bright as he watched her squirm and shiver as icy droplets dripped from her face and hair to the floor below.

She remembered everything. She remembered the battle. She remembered being captured by the orcs... She remembered the pile of broken wings outside her cell, proof that she was the last surviving Angel.

"That's right," the Bull said calmly as he watched her emotions play out across her face. "You remember it all, don't you?"

It hurt to look up at him. They had left her hanging by her ankles all night and the rush of blood to her head had left her feeling lightheaded and dizzy.

"Leave... Me... Alone!" she gasped weakly.

"I was about to let you down," he said with a tut of approval before placing a hand on her hip. "I suppose I could leave you here if you prefer?"

He gave a her a gentle shove that caused her to spin slowly in the air before him. A wave of nausea washed over her and she closed her eyes and gritted her teeth to keep herself from vomiting.

"Stop!" she cried out.

The orc reached out to steady her before crouching down to look her in the eyes. "Would you like to get down then?" he asked.

She nodded weakly.

"Then ask me nicely," the Bull replied, raising a hand to spin her again.

She glared defiantly up at him but knew she couldn't take anymore punishment. "Please," she hissed, her skin crawling at the act of having to beg. "Let me down."

The orc's smile widened as he looked at her for a moment before he rose to his full height and scooped her into one of his arms whilst with the other he reached up and severed the leather straps securing her to the bars above them. Her legs shook weakly as he then set her gently on the floor and removed the bindings from around her ankles.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

She nodded hesitantly.

He began to wind the leather bindings around his left hand and jerked his chin towards the door of her cage. "Come with me then," he said.

She shivered as she struggled to her feet, her snow white hair and wings still dripping icy water over her naked body. "Wait," she called as he walked away.

He looked back at her, raising an eyebrow irritably. He was easily the biggest orc she had ever seen. She wasn't exactly short herself, but the Bull towered over her and even without his armour she thought he could easily snap her in half like a twig if he wanted to.

"What?" he growled.

She felt her cheeks turn red as she shifted her feet nervously. "I... I have to relieve myself," she murmured.

"So do it then," he grunted.

She looked around her small cage, her face contorting with disgust as she realised what he was implying. "I... I can't do it here!" she breathed. "You can't expect me..."

"I don't expect anything," the orc interrupted. "You can go here, or you can piss yourself in front of my men. I don't care either way."

She swallowed fearfully, her face hot with humiliation as she realised that he was serious. She looked around before retreating awkwardly to the far corner of her cell where the wooden bars met the red rock of the cliffs that the cage was built against. She spread her legs as far as she could without being in danger of losing her balance before glancing nervously over her shoulder at the Bull who was still standing beside the door of her cage.

"Can you look away?" she asked, hating how desperate and pathetic she sounded.

"No," he said bluntly. "Get on with it."

Her body trembled as she looked away from him and closed her eyes, trying to pretend that she was somewhere else. When she had finished, she retreated quickly from the puddle that she had made between her legs and made her way swiftly towards the door without looking at the orc.

"Where do you think you're going?" the Bull growled as he stepped between her and the door.

She forced herself to look at him, rage simmering in her heart as she saw the smug look on his face. "You asked if I was hungry," she said coldly. "I presumed that meant we were going to get food?"

"Not without this, we aren't," he growled, holding up the crude collar and leash he had made from the leather straps that had bound her ankles. "I'm not having you fly off out there."

"I'm not wearing that!" she hissed.

"Then you aren't eating," he replied bluntly.

She glared up at him before nodding reluctantly. If she was going to escape and avenge the other Angels, than she needed to know more about where she was being held, even if it meant debasing herself for the moment.

"Good," he said as he looped the makeshift collar around her neck before winding the leash around his palm. "You're learning."

She bit her tongue to keep from replying as she followed the Bull out of her cage. The orcs had made camp in what appeared to be the remains of an old quarry, with the cages built into cliffs of one of the smaller pits. There were other prisoners held within the wooden cages, some of which wore the uniforms of Everdale's new, united army. They stared at her as she passed, whispering and pointing as they crept up to the bars to get a better look at her until the Bull glowered at them and they went scuttling back to the corners of their cages.

They climbed up a short gully that led to the quarry's primary pit and Alyss felt her stomach turn as she took in the breadth of the orc camp. She had heard the reports of the size of the Bull's army, but to see it all gathered before her made her wonder how Everdale had ever hoped to survive. The camp sprawled from one side of the vast quarry to the other, the haphazard rows of tents broken up by crude wooden structures from which hung the ragged banners of the various tribes that the Bull had united to his cause. The stench of the camp stung her eyes and the noise was deafening. She could see thousands of orcs milling around campfires or brawling in the dust between their tents. Black armoured warriors whom she guessed were the Bull's own enforcers patrolled the borders between the rival tribes whilst mobs of spindly goblins darted back and forth with messages and supplies for their brutish masters.

"Do you remember what I told you yesterday?" the Bull asked her.

She swallowed and nodded. He had told her that she could end the war. He had told her that she could save Everdale from everything that she saw before her.

"Good," he grunted as he tugged on her leash and led her into the camp.

The orcs noticed her immediately and began to jeer and whistle at her as they passed them by. She stayed close to the Bull, hoping that he would offer some sort of protection from the gawking mob, but the deeper into the camp they got, the more raucous the gathering crowds became. They swore at her, made obscene gestures and even threw things at her. The Bull made no attempts to stop any of it, not even when she stumbled and fell into the mud behind him. He put his hand under her arm and hauled her up onto her feet as the other orcs hooted and howled at her before dragging her onwards as if nothing had happened and by the time they reached the middle of the camp, she was covered in mud, dust and bits of rotten food. Tears glistened in the corners of her eyes but she refused to cry in front of the orcs.

The Bull's encampment stood atop a large, flat plateau that was surrounded by a wall of wooden stakes and guarded by dozens of black orcs. He led her up a dirt track between rows of ordered tents draped in animal pelts and decorated with bone trophies and stolen standards to a large pavilion in the centre of the plateau crafted from the bones of some ancient behemoth and covered in cured animal skins and thick furs. Alyss could see the Bull's throne at the rear of the pavilion behind a large wooden table that reminded her of the table King Rholand and his knights had used to plan the defence of Everdale not two days ago.

The Bull stopped in front of the entrance to the pavilion and turned to regard her. He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and raised her head, wiping a piece of rotten fruit from her cheek as she glared hatefully up at him.

"Do you know why I have brought you here?" he asked.

A single tear broke free from the corner of her eye to roll down her cheek as she nodded. The Bull had shown her the truth. Everdale could not win this war. The orcs would crush them and wipe them from existence. She had to stop them. She had to do her duty, no matter what it cost her.

"Do not cry," he said not unkindly. "Never show them your weakness."

She swallowed, composing herself as best she could. "You told me I can stop this," she said. "Did you mean that?"

He nodded.

"What must I do?" she whispered.

****

Rholand stood behind the table of his privy council's meeting chamber, staring out of the window towards the desolate fields beyond the city walls where the dead were still being pulled from the mud. No one could explain why the orcs had retreated so suddenly when they had been on the cusp of breaking through Everdale's defences. They should have lost everything but for some reason, they had survived.

The King grimaced as pain lanced up his deformed leg. He needed to sit and rest but how could he do that when there were so many people looking to him for leadership. He wished Alyss was by his side. She always knew what to say to make him feel better but now... He closed his eyes, fighting back the grief that had been a constant companion over the last two days. Alyss was dead, of that he was certain. The Angels had fallen, and with them, he had lost the one person in this world that he had truly loved.

The chamber door opened and the King swiftly composed himself as Cedric entered accompanied by Sir Borrich, Sir Herrod and his wife, Queen Meredith. The Queen looked beautiful in a gown of sombre black, the white cuffs and hems no doubt meant to signify hope in these trying times. Her black hair was pulled back to reveal her slender neck and the teardrop shaped earrings that he had gifted her on their wedding day. Rholand could not look at her without thinking of Alyss.

"My Liege," Cedric said respectfully as the new arrivals bowed.

Rholand looked straight ahead as the Queen moved to his side. She didn't touch him and he did not look at her, but her presence was oddly comforting nonetheless.

"What news?" he asked of his remaining advisors.

His brother's calm expression faltered briefly. "Sir Arridon and Sir Falstaf succumbed to their wounds overnight," he said sadly. " We have also received word of an orc raid on Greybells in the north west of the Kingdom."

Rholand muttered a distinctly un-kingly word beneath his breath. "How bad is it?" he asked. His leg was throbbing. He needed to sit down but he remained standing, projecting whatever strength he had left to his loyal servants.

Cedric didn't answer but his expression was enough to tell the King that the small town had likely been burnt to the ground.

Borrich glanced at Herrod, his wrinkled face grim. "Morale is low, Sire," he said. "And our numbers have been severely depleted. We can hold the capital for a time..."

"But the rest of the Kingdom is defenceless," Herrod finished.

"You mean to say that we have failed," Rholand said bluntly.

The silence that filled the room was absolute.

"What of the Angels?" Meredith asked suddenly.

Borrich and Herrod shifted uncomfortably, neither of them daring to say anything. They both knew the rumours about the King and the White Angel of Everdale as well as the Queen surely did.

"The Angels haven't been seen since the battle, My Lady," Cedric said carefully. "They were surely killed during the fighting."

"We don't know that for certain," she replied calmly. "We have recovered one of their number, but the rest may yet still live."

"If the Angels are alive then they are our best hope," Herrod mused whilst managing not to look at either the King or Queen.

"They would certainly improve morale," Borrich agreed. "I've seen them fight. They are worth five hundred orcs each!"

Rholand's leg was on fire. He reached for one of the chairs in front of him to help support himself.

"They were last seen engaging the Bull," Cedric said, a note of excitement in his voice. "What if they did slay him? What if that's the reason the orcs pulled back so suddenly?"

"If the Bull is dead..." Herrod began.

Rholand couldn't bear it any longer. He reached for the chair, but in his haste his leg gave way and he crumpled to the floor in a heap. His advisors cried out but it was Meredith who came to his aid, her large brown eyes fixing on his as she put her hand beneath his arm and helped him up onto the chair.

"My Lord," Borrich said fretfully. "Are you quite alright?"

"Fine, thank you," Rholand growled, his face red, his pride as bruised as his shins.

"Sire..." Herrod began.

"Enough!" Rholand snapped, holding up a hand. "There will be no more talk of this matter. The Angels are gone! Our armies cannot hold back the tide any longer! We must accept these facts!"

Cedric licked his lips as he looked at the King and the grief that he was no longer bothering to conceal on his face. "My Lord..." he began.

Rholand waved him away. "No!" he said firmly. "We are on our own. We cannot protect this city if the orcs attack again."

Borrich frowned, disapproval flickering in his eyes. "What then, would you have us do, Majesty?" he asked.

Pain lanced through his leg as Rholand pushed himself to his feet once again. "This city will fall," he growled. "But I'll be damned if I do not give our people a chance to escape."

Meredith touched his arm lightly. He didn't know how any of them would react to what he was about to say, but he did not much care anymore.

"Tonight, we lay Sir Arridon and Sir Falstaf to rest," he said decisively. "Tomorrow we gather what's left of our forces and we march on the orc camp. We will take the fight to the enemy, allowing our people time to flee the city."

"Death and glory," Herrod muttered, his eyes shining defiantly. "The city will fall..."

"But the idea will live on," Rholand finished.

Sir Borrich placed his hand over his heart and bowed his head. "If this is your wish, Sire," the old knight said reverently, "then it would be an honour to die by your side."

"This is madness," Cedric breathed. "Rholand, you cannot give up hope like this! Not whilst there is still a chance!"

"What chance, brother?" the King snapped. "I see no solution. No golden path that leads us to victory! The orcs are too many and we too few. If this is to be Everdale's end, then I would have us make it an ending worthy of remembrance!"

"You speak of endings even though our walls still stand and our people still live!" Cedric retorted. "Would you condemn them to die in the wilderness rather than stand and fight for their homes?"

"They would have a better chance out there than cowering behind these walls waiting to die like rats!" Rholand countered angrily. "Our sacrifice will give them time to escape." He strode around the table, his face red as he pushed the pain in his leg to the back of his mind, and stopped next to his brother.

"If you are so afraid to fight, bother," he hissed with an uncharacteristic sneer, "Then I suggest you flee with them!"

Cedric's eyes widened angrily as the King brushed past him. He went to follow him, forgetting momentarily that they were no longer young siblings who's quarrels could be solved with the swinging of fists, but Meredith was suddenly by his side, gripping his arm tightly to hold him back as Rholand marched out of the room with Sir Borrich and Sir Herrod following close behind him.

"He... He...." Cedric closed his eyes and exhaled slowly before turning to the Queen and bowing his head. "Forgive me, Your Highness," he said slowly. "My brother..."

"Your brother is a good man," Meredith replied before a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "But he can also be an ass."

Cedric allowed himself a small laugh and nodded his head. "He is not thinking clearly," he said as he glanced towards the door of the chamber. "This plan of his is folly. He is acting out of grief. He..." He froze, suddenly realising who he was talking to. He looked at the Queen, his face falling. "Forgive me," he said quickly. "I did not mean..."

She held up a hand a shook her head. "Do not apologise, Cedric," she said. "I have known for a long time that Rholand's heart lies elsewhere. I have made peace with my situation and do not require anyone's pity."

He looked at her carefully and found only strength in her gaze. Meredith was truly an amazing, beautiful woman. Cedric had never understood why his brother could not see her for the shining star that she truly was.

"He does not deserve you," he said without thinking. "You deserve someone who sees you for who you really are."

She smiled at him and he suddenly realised how close they were standing.

"And who would that be, Sir Cedric?" she whispered.

He swallowed, glancing down at her hand that remained firmly locked around his arm. "My Lady..." he began uncertainly.

They were roughly the same height so there was very little warning before she leaned in and kissed him. Her lips were soft against his own and he thought she smelled faintly of lavender and sandalwood. He had often wondered what it would be like to kiss her, but now that it had happened he did not know what to think. His heart was pounding against his chest and his mouth was dry.

"It's alright," she whispered, resting her forehead against his. "I know, Cedric. I've always known how you feel."

"My Lady..." he began.

She put a finger to his lips and shook her head. "Meredith," she whispered. "Please, Cedric, I have to know."

He felt her pull him towards the table in the middle of the room and offered no resistance as she began to undo the gold buttons of his green tunic. Her eyes sparkled against her caramel coloured skin as she pulled back his shirt, her fingers little bursts of fire on his skin as she touched his flesh and tentatively traced the old scar on his left shoulder that was a trophy from his first battle. Her hands moved to the bodice of her dress and Cedric watched, enthralled by her movements, as she pulled at the lace ties and opened the neckline of her dress to reveal her firm, round breasts. They kissed again and as she pulled him closer he could feel her hard, erect nipples against his chest. His heart was racing as she guided his hands and mouth to her breasts and he revelled in her enjoyment as he softly sucked and squeezed her nipples.

"I want you to fuck me," she whispered in his ear.

His cock was like a sword that he eagerly unsheathed as she climbed up onto the edge of the table and gathered the hem of her dress up around her waist and he slowly slid her lace panties down her legs to reveal her already glistening pussy. He positioned his cock against her slit and then, without a second thought, pushed deep inside of her. She gasped, shivering excitedly as she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him deeper into her. A thought briefly crossed Cedric's mind and he wondered how long it had been since she had felt the touch of another man? She and Rholand must have consummated their marriage, but had she had her own lovers since then or was that night of empty promises and diplomatic convenience the last time she had lain with another person?