The Orc King Ch. 01

~ Please look at the rosa-blanca.ru before proceeding to ensure there are no unwelcome surprises. If you enjoy thievery and dragon shifters as well as orcs, please check out my other story Shifter Fae Romance: A Dragon Mate ~

Princess Astera stood naked and shivering in the centre of the palace gardens. Moonlight danced across the cobblestone path, just enough that Astera was able to make out the bobbing shapes of the leafy plants around her. The lack of light didn't seem to bother the two orc women who worked around her. They painted her body in strange symbols with a reddish stain. She fidgeted anxiously when a brush twirled around one of her breasts.

"Be still!" One of the orc women ordered her.

"Don't be so harsh," the other orc woman chided. "She is simply nervous. Do not worry, we will make you beautiful for King Volen."

Astera felt a shiver rippled down her spine at the mention of her soon-to-be husband. The orc king. She had imagined her wedding a hundred different ways. Always a political alliance. It was to be expected, as the daughter-heir of the Sarai Empire. But marrying the orc king...

"How long will the ceremony be?" Astera asked. Anything to distract herself from facing the inevitable.

The two orc women exchanged glances. "Not as long as it should be. There will be no Ishten, no bridal scrimmage. Just the exchanging of vows."

Astera didn't dare ask what a bridal scrimmage was. She already regretted asking about the paint. A map of all the places your mate must mark you. The orcs were a brutal, secretive people. She knew very little what to expect from the ceremony. Her father had conceded to most of the orc's demands regarding the wedding. Including allowing the orc women to prepare and dress her for the ceremony; however they saw fit.

Once the paint was applied, the orc women dressed her in a gown of spider-silk. The gown was so thin it was opaque against her skin, and pooled at her feet so that it would trail behind her when she walked. A veil was fixed over her face. Her cheeks flamed looking down at herself. For the orc king's fealty, and his army, her father would give her away like a prized animal.

The three women began making their way from the gardens to the Fields of Remembering, where the ceremony was to take place. Behind them loomed the imperial palace, at the top of the craggy cliffs of the island.

As they made their way from the gardens down to the fields, she could see large stretches of the island laid out before her. The Fields of Remembering were swaths of grassy plains that surrounded the imperial grounds. The twinkling lights of the city of Thelfare were just visible on the horizon. Astera's eyes were drawn to the hundreds of tents covering the fields. Each flew the reddish banner of the orc king, Soarruk Volen.

The cobblestone path to the Fields of Remembering was lined by stone pillars supporting an arched lattice roof. Vines and grapes grew in the ceiling and dangled down around them. Astera had grown up attempting to climb these pillars, trying to steal grapes to annoy the servants. Some of the pillars were crumbling with age, others from blackened pockmarks left by cannon fire.

There was a time when Astera had thought her father would lose the war against the Demon King. Ten years of bloodshed. The brutality had made it all the way to the gardens of the imperial household before they were able to put a stop to it. She knew her father's decision to ally with the orcs had not come lightly.

Marrying her off to an orc had not been an easy solution. The orcs had lived freely in the forests and mountains of Sarai since the beginning of her family's rule. They worshipped their own gods and king. Generations of rulers had been unable to bring the orcs under the imperial heel. Until the Demon King brought the war to their doorstep, and the orcs could no longer simply ignore the human's war.

The orcs had strength, speed and the ability to resist most magic. They agreed to join the Sarai Empire on one condition: When the orcs won the war, their king Soarruk Volen would claim her, the emperor's eldest daughter as his bride.

Astera considered the war, and other things as she was led through the flaps of the tent where she was to be married. She thought of the things her people had to endure: a decade of rationing, years of starvation and fear. She thought of rivers of blood and lakes of burning bodies left by the Demon King.

She tried to remember the sacrifices made by her people. It was a constant weight on her shoulders. As she walked through the entrance and knelt onto the plush pillow, she considered how small her sacrifice would be compared to theirs. It didn't stop her hands from shaking.

She had heard stories of what happened when orcs and humans crossed paths. The only reason they had not been at war during Astera's lifetime was because humans were too busy fighting the Demon King. The forests and mountains of Sarai belonged to the orcs. Whenever the humans encroached upon orc territories it led to conflicts. Which was often. Astera's hands tightened into fists at the thought. The orcs wouldn't even let starving families forage for wild berries in their forests.

Her soon-to-be husband had gained his reputation murdering his way to his throne. The previous orc king had stolen many human women as his consorts during his lifetime. None of them survived the coupling.

Everyone expected the same, or worse for her. She had heard people discuss her impending marriage like it was her death sentence. If she survives, she'll be bred like an animal. The thought made bile rise in her throat.

Around the room everyone was already seated. Her father sat on his solid carved-stone throne at the front of the tent. To his left side, her mother sat on a square cushion. The Emperor of Sarai and the First Imperial High Consort. The tent was otherwise full of everyone Astera knew and loved: all seven of her sisters, her little baby brother, her family elders, and her friends.

As she looked around the room, some people offered her reassuring smiles. Others looked away. She could see veiled looks of disgust and fear across the room. Her closest sisters shared her terror-stricken expression.

The ceremony began with airy string music. Her throat tightened with fear. Still, she remained seated, rooted to the pillow. The tent flaps pulled open. Behind her veil she squinted into the darkness. There he was. Her future husband.

Astera sucked in a deep breath as she took him in. He was more beast than man. Unlike the gentle orc women, orc men were massive. Soarruk Volen was tall and broad of shoulder. Her hands clenched tightly in her lap. It wasn't just the orc men's greenish hued skin and tusks that set them apart from human men. He had four arms.

Even under his military robes she could see he was all muscle. His hands, all four of them, rested in fists at his size. He exuded an aura of authority unlike anyone else she had ever met. Astera had spent the past week or so reading of his accounts on the battlefield. It was terrifying, placing the face to the name she had been studying.

His black hair was a wavy mess around his face, only partially tamed by the imposing crown on his brow. It was made of gold, with two large twisting horns protruding from the top. They were laced with glittering gems.

Astera felt her vision waver. He was wearing formal military robes of sorts made of dark blood-coloured material. The breasts of the robes were brightly decorated in ribbons and symbols Astera could not understand. At his hip was a wickedly sharp black battle axe. The blade was easily the size of her head.

That was what she would face if she tried to escape and failed. The famed weapon that had been used to chop up the body of the Demon King, ending the ten-year war. A war hero infamous for his brutality.

He crossed the room in a few short steps. Up close she could see how impressively sharp his fangs were. They jutted out on either side of his mouth. His lips were pulled into a scowl. He came to kneel on the pillows in front of her. He was a head span taller than her even sitting, so that she had to crane her neck up to look at him.

The human part of the ceremony began with the Priestess of Light's blessing. The priestess stepped out of the shadows of the room, beginning her chant in a sing song voice. When she approached the couple with the binding ribbon her voice faltered slightly. Her eyes darted over the orc, clearly afraid to touch him.

"We must bind your hands." The priestess sounded almost apologetic.

He reached for Astera's hands. Her fingers disappeared under his grip. The priestess deftly tied their hands together using the ribbon. Soarruk Volen's touch burned.

The Priestess of Light lifted Astera's veil. Her future husband stared down at her with an unreadable expression. His eyes had no whites, they were purely black without any colour. His eyes narrowed on her cheeks, and she thought she could see his glare darken. Resignation rose within her, enough to return his withering glare.

The priestess finished her blessing, and announced the ceremony concluded. Astera squeezed her eyes closed to prepare for the sealing kiss. Her body trembled all over. But it never came. The orc king used his second set of clawed hands to slice through the ribbon binding them. He stood, hands pulling Astera to her feet as well.

An orc woman appeared before them. She held up a long flat box, bowing before the orc king. She opened the lid. Inside was a golden crown with shorter horns to match the orc kings. Carefully, the orc woman lifted the crown from the box and placed it on Astera's brow.

"It is done then?" Soarruk Volen's voice was rough, slowly enunciating each word so that his meaning was clear even through his heavy accent. He was staring at her father.

The Emperor of Sarai gave the orc a brisk nod. He didn't look at Astera at all. "It is done."

The orc king began leading Astera out of the tent. A delayed applause followed after them.

Under regular circumstances, there would be feasts and celebrations following the marriage ceremony. Astera knew better than to expect anything of the sort. She had once daydreamed of a great ball or festival for her wedding night. The end of the war had come swiftly though, and there was no time or leftover gold to plan a grand celebration. She had at least hoped for a hot meal and some silver-leaf wine to dampen her nerves.

She stumbled and then nearly fell when she took in the field. The orc king barely paused for her to catch up. Seeing the hundreds of orc war tents over the Field of Remembering up-close was enough to make her already frayed nerves unsteady. An entire war party at the base of her home.

"Must I drag you?" The orc king didn't speak as slowly to her as he had her father.

Astera flinched at his words. The first thing her husband had said directly to her, and it was a threat. His eyes narrowed impatiently when Astera didn't answer right away.

"Where- where are you taking me?" she asked.

The muscles in his jaw jumped. He stared out across the field. For a moment she thought he might just continue walking without her. But he pointed one clawed finger out to the largest yellow tent in the centre. "To complete the ceremony."

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as she realized his meaning. He meant to take her back to his tent and consummate their marriage- to take her whether she wanted it or not. She shook her head rapidly. "But there's still feasts, and dancing-" Her voice died in her throat seeing the wicked grin spread across his face.

"Do not worry princess, we won't be staying long. My home calls to me." He reached out and took her hand, pulling her along before she could protest. She wanted to dig her heels into the mud and argue further, but her eyes caught on the gleaming battleaxe at his hip. She would have to pick her battles. Once she was among his people, she would find a way to escape.

The orcs they passed stopped their duties and inclined their head to the king as he passed. None of them acknowledged their new queen as she was dragged behind him. Choruses of "Nhyem" followed them. Astera guessed it was the honorific they used for their ruler, or perhaps a greeting.

The orc king kept looking straight ahead as he walked. The tents and the orcs occupying them had made a muddy mess of the field. Astera stumbled several times when her slippers sucked into the deep mud. The orc king didn't so much as pause for her. One of her slippers came off. She turned to retrieve it, but the orc king hissed and pulled her along faster. By the time they reached the largest tent she had lost both her slippers, and her dress was covered in mud.

The orc king opened the tent flap and pulled Astera inside. The space was dimly lit. Three fat candles burned low in the corner of the room. The first thing she noticed was the large table in the centre of the room. It was strewn with maps and documents in the strange fae language of the orcs. The tent was surprisingly cool and smelled of grassy earth. The rest of the room was dominated by the bed.

The orc king's bed was surrounded by thin drapes. In the flickering candlelight she could see the bed was piled high with furs and blankets. Her hands flexed uneasily at her sides seeing it. Her mother and her grandmother had cornered her less than a week ago, explaining her future responsibilities to her husband in much more details than she had ever heard before.

She wasn't stupid- she knew exactly what sex was. But once the emperor's precious daughters reached the age of twelve, they were kept secluded in the palace, away from prying eyes. She had been twelve at the start of the war. Ten years hidden away within the palace walls. She had been taught that sex was simply for breeding. Or at least that's what she had naively assumed.

The orc woman's words of instruction in the garden came back to her. The mating partners begin by undressing each other.

Her eyes widened as she watched the orc king. He took off the leather strap holding his battle axe to his hips and hung it on a dresser.

"I wish for a hot meal, and a drink before we begin." Astera was even surprised how strong her voice sounded. "I want to celebrate-"

The orc king chuckled, as if even he could hear the lie in her words. He turned to face her, taking a step forward. "If we are to be married, the rituals of my people must be complete. Then you may celebrate, if that is what you wish."

Astera shrank backwards. She didn't have a response to that. He was so much larger than her. His eyes roamed over her freely. She fought the urge to cover herself, to cross her arms over her breasts. Even in the low candlelight her dress left nothing to the imagination.

She would not cower yet. She trembled as he stepped closer. One of his arms came up to cage her against the wall of the tent. She squeezed her eyes closed, knowing there was no way to stop what was coming.

She had been kidding herself, thinking she could convince him to delay the inevitable. She had forgotten, in all the preparations for the wedding ritual, that she was no more than a war prize to the orc before her. She had no choice in when or how she might be taken.

He grasped one of her hands in his own, leading it to fastenings on the side of his robe. Using her hands, he pulled the fastening free, and the robe fell freely to the ground. Underneath he wore a linen shirt. The orc used her hands once more to slowly pull the leather strings at the top loose. Once his linen shirt was loosened, he pulled it off overtop his head.

Underneath, the orc was all hard planes of muscle. Scars covered his body, bright white or a darker green sheen depending on their age. He had a clean, masculine scent. The orc king placed one of Astera's hands against his chest. He was hot to the touch. His impressive body was a honed weapon.

She stared at him with open awe, nearly forgetting exactly what was happening. He was ruggedly handsome, but it was difficult to wrap her head around his different anatomy. With one of his other hands, he led her hand to the leather belt at his waist.

That brought her back to reality. She tried to rip her hand away, but the orcs grip only tightened until he was crushing her hand in his. She yelped in pain. Tears stung her eyes. She squirmed in his grip.

"Please! Please let me go," she begged.

His eyes narrowed. "You partook in your peoples sacred marriage vows. They are sacred, yes?" He was still squeezing her hand. The throbbing pain was beginning to extend to her wrist.

She nodded, biting her lip to keep from screaming out. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of her pain. "Yes, I swear it! Please, you'll break my hand!" She wheezed.

His grip loosened slightly. Just enough so that he was able to pull the leather fastening free. His trousers dropped to the ground. Astera pulled her hand back, gingerly gripping it and testing the bones were not broken.

He used a claw to life her chin, distracting her from the throbbing in her hand. "I traded a thousand orc lives for your hand in marriage."

A thousand men was all he had lost in the war. Traded for her. It paled in comparison to the hundreds of thousands of soldiers her father had lost. Soarruk Volen led the deadliest army on the continent, likely the in the entire world. And now she would be his for the rest of her life.

He took a step toward her, until their bodies were touching. She could feel the heat radiate from him.

"You will be the finest queen in our history." The orc king gripped her waist, and then in one fluid movement, tore the back of her dress from nape down to her thighs. It fell to her feet in ribbons of white silk.

She cowered, but it made no difference. He dragged her to the bed and pulled the drape aside. When it was clear Astera could not climb in with her hand hurt, he gripped her by the waist and threw her onto the bed.

She lay there momentarily stunned in the pile of warm furs. It felt luxurious compared to the thin feather mattress she slept in since she was a child. She quickly covered herself in the blankets. The women who had helped dress her had given her no undergarments.

The orc king climbed into the bed beside her. She looked away quickly when she saw his naked form. He was hard everywhere, thick and strong and imposing. He dragged her body underneath his own. She tried to pull away, but one set of hands gripped her waist and held her in place. The other set explored her body freely.

Astera's face flamed with humiliation. She could feel her body responding to his touch, her nipples hardening. Something stirred deep within her, an ache in her core. She tried to look away, but the orc gripped her chin between his clawed fingers. His breath fanned her face, musky and hot. Up close she noticed he also wore the reddish paint across his face and neck.

His voice was much quieter when he spoke, gravelly and soft, "now that your peoples marriage vows are complete, we will finish mine."

She vaguely remembered the orc woman's words. A map of the places he must mark you. Goosebumps pebbled her naked flesh in anticipation.

He was hovering over her, knees on either side of her body. She could feel something hot and hard press between her legs, but she didn't dare look down.

She watched, horrified, as he leaned into her hair. He took a deep, agonisingly slow breath, scenting her. He moved slowly from her hair down her face. She felt the gentle brush of his nose against the crook of her neck. She could feel his breath ghost against her skin. And then she felt the hot press of his tongue against her collar bone. He nipped her neck softly. She began to squirm, trying to stop the strange feeling his movements elicited within her. Her stomach churned with an emotion she didn't recognise. It felt like her skin was on fire.