He’s still reeling from everything Erised just told him as he turns to face the Princess. The disguised demon’s confession explains a lot about Roka-Ra’s motivations, as well as her decisions. Obviously, she hadn’t believed the letter for even a moment. Marcus still didn’t fully understand how the letter had made it into Roka-Ra’s hands all the way out in the wildlands, but Erised seemed pretty convinced it had.
And it certainly seemed likely. After all, why else would Roka-Ra be so enraged by his very existence, only to turn around and all but throw the duel afterwards? It wasn’t like she’d purposely lost the Tah-Mak-Ah, but she’d definitely stopped giving it her all at some point. With the information Marcus had now, he could look back and see that she’d somehow realized the letter was telling the truth, at least about his parentage.
Something he’d done, some way in which he fought, must have convinced Roka-Ra he WAS Gral-Ra’s son. And after she realized that, she’d simply stopped fighting at her full strength, until eventually he’d overcome her.
… But what did Erised expect Marcus to do about it now?! The die was already cast, wasn’t it? He’d thrown his lot in with the Crusade and Princess Elsenthia, and in the end he’d proven himself their Champion. He’d defeated Roka-Ra, sent the orcs packing, and now found himself heading back to the Capital alongside their caravan.
He couldn’t turn on them now, just because Roka-Ra recognized him. He couldn’t just forsake the bonds he’d made because Erised wanted him to be the Dark Lord and not the Destined Hero. Even if Marcus registered himself as the Dark Lord over the Destined Hero, everyone else from the Church and the Holy Empire saw him as the latter. So… why couldn’t he just BE the latter?
Of course, he tries his best not to let any of this show on his face as he turns to look in Elsenthia’s direction. He doesn’t want to worry her or give anything away. But unfortunately, subtle he is not. The moment he faces her, Marcus can tell from the way her smile flickers and concern fills her eyes that Elsenthia picks up on his distress and inner turmoil.
“Sir Hero? Is something wrong?”
How does he even begin to answer that? Nothing should be wrong, they’d won after all. But yes, several things were very, very wrong. He can’t tell her that though. He certainly can’t confide in her that he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to forgive Erised for her betrayal, or that he feels like he’s bottling up an unhealthy amount of anger within himself. Before he can think of what to say, however, the light of understanding dawns in the Princess’ eyes and she looks deeply apologetic.
“Forgive me, Sir Hero. Of course plenty is wrong. We might have won… but that’s barely any consolation for the dead, isn’t it? We lost hundreds of brave men and women and would have lost the entire battle if not for your valiant efforts. And here I am asking if something is wrong.”
… Yes. That was a reasonable excuse. Marcus doesn’t trust himself to speak though, so he just looks away, out through the woods in front of him. It probably said something awful about him that he hadn’t even thought of them all yet. Only of himself and the people close to him and how Erised’s actions would affect all of them. He should probably be more upset that Erised’s actions had led to so much death.
Unaware of the true nature of his inner turmoil, Elsenthia moves to stand by his side, placing a hand on his arm.
“I wondered what brought you out here, away from the caravan. I know that you, least of all, require any sort of warning about the dangers that might lurk in the woods. There isn’t a beast, brigand, or monster alive that could harm you.”
Letting out a sigh, Elsenthia shakes her head.
“We shouldn’t have lost so many people. We shouldn’t have been sent with such a small force either.”
That was something Marcus felt qualified to weigh in on, at least. His voice barely a murmur, he grunts.
“We were grossly outnumbered.”
“Yes. We were. I must confess… I smell something rotten in all of this. For all that she is a Dark General, Roka-Ra has never been this violent in all her years as an orc leader. The orcs in general have been relatively passive since the last Dark Lord’s passing. That they were riled up like this WITHOUT a new Dark Lord showing themselves… I suspect treachery.”
Marcus can’t help but flinch at that, knowing full well that it WAS treachery that had caused the first Orc Warband in hundreds of years. His own servant’s treachery. In that regard, while much of the blame could be laid at Roka-Ra’s feet for being easily led by her anger and a simple letter… plenty of blame could also be laid at Erised’s feet as well.
He knew that it was probably the height of foolishness to say the orcs would have stayed peaceful forever without Erised’s interference. The two thousand or so warriors who had answered Roka-Ra’s call were not exactly innocents led astray. They were savage creatures chomping at the bit and clearly just waiting for an excuse to get into a fucking fight with the Holy Empire. If it wasn’t Roka-Ra, it would have been someone else eventually.
… Maybe even him. Marcus likes to think that he would have done his best to temper the bloodlust and primal fury of his orcish forces if he DID take up the mantle of Dark Lord… but truth be told, he can’t say for sure. He’s no leader, he never has been. Honestly, that’s half the reason he prefers being the Destined Hero over the Dark Lord. One is very much the ‘do or die’ Job of the two. Being the Dark Lord would be much harder, and require more diplomacy than Marcus was sure he was capable of.
Regardless, Erised had nevertheless lit the match. She’d been the source of treachery Elsenthia was talking about. But Marcus holds his tongue. Even now, even after her betrayal, he can’t bring himself to betray Erised in turn. Having her offer to die at his hands or go into exile at his orders… it had sent a spike of honest fear through Marcus. He didn’t… no, he couldn’t lose her. No matter what she’d done.
That did not mean he wouldn’t discipline her though. As he stands there wordlessly with Elsenthia beside him, Marcus makes a silent promise to the unaware Princess that he WOULD try and make things right. Erised wasn’t going to get off easily by any measure. He just had to figure out exactly how he was supposed to punish a mistake of this magnitude without exercising the more permanent options he was currently balking at.
“… And of course there’s the other side of things to consider as well.”
Wait, what? Marcus furrows his brow, looking over at Elsenthia in confusion. The half-elven Princess is staring off into the woods as well when he does so, prompting her to glance at him and blink.
“They might be one and the same of course, Sir Hero. But just as much as Roka-Ra’s actions make little sense… the Empire’s response makes even less sense. Five hundred Paladins sent to combat two thousand orcs. The math doesn’t add up.”
Marcus narrows his eyes in thought for a moment before realizing Elsenthia is right.
“… Someone lied.”
Elsenthia smiles and gives him an encouraging nod, making Marcus flush a little bit as he realizes this conversation is as much her trying to draw him out of his shell as it is talking about why the battle was such a fucking farce.
“Exactly. I don’t for a second believe her Holiness would have sent us out here with only a single Crusade’s worth of men and women if she had known what we were up against. The Church might be in a state of contraction right now due to the Empire’s overall economy entering a decline, but that’s no excuse for such an outrageous disparity in numbers.”
Grimacing, Marcus nods in agreement. Serafina didn’t seem like the type to make such an unforced error… unless it WAS forced upon her by her enemies. It was crazy to think that the Holy Pope had been tricked, but at the same time… well, Elsenthia explains it best when she continues on a moment later.
“Her Holiness was given faulty intel, possibly by someone in her inner circle. Whether they knew that we would be sent with the Crusade or not, someone wanted the first attempt at routing Roka-Ra’s Warband to fail. They wanted the orcs to get deeper into the Empire for whatever reason.”
Marcus grunts at that, his mind whirling with thoughts. In the end though, he can’t think of what that reason can be, so he asks Elsenthia point blank.
“What reason could they have for wanting to let the orcs ravage a dozen border towns?”
Elsenthia’s smile turns incredibly bitter at that, and her arms cross over her chest as her hands clutch at her forearms.
“I can think of one. Her Holiness has long been mine and my mother’s greatest ally in the Capital. There are several within both the Nobility and the Church that would love to see our cause weakened and the Royal Family usurped. What better way than to let an Orc Warband reach all the way to the Capital walls before finally facing defeat? My capture and your death would have just been… icing on the cake.”
Her words ring true. And somehow, Marcus doesn’t think Erised was at all involved in this particular betrayal. She’d fucked up, there was no doubt in hid mind of that, but she’d also come clean. He couldn’t see her telling the truth about the letter… but then covering up some conspiracy among the Empire’s Nobility. Nor could he see her being involved in such a thing in the first place.
It was a little embarrassing, but Marcus was ever so slightly relieved that Erised was only partially culpable for how shitty things had turned out. Some of the tension bleeds out of his shoulders then, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the Princess, who shoots him a rueful smile.
“Heh, you’re the kind of man who likes to have an enemy to face, aren’t you? I tell you there’s bound to be enemies waiting for us back in the Capital who will be quite upset at our success, and you’re relieved rather than nervous. That’s the sort of man you are, Sir Hero. A good, strong man.”
Marcus blushes. That hadn’t been what he was thinking at all, but it’s not like he can tell Elsenthia that. Besides, she’s at least a little right. He’s not exactly looking forward to cleaning up the Capital like she thinks he is, but he’s also not going to shirk his duty. If that’s what she and the Holy Pope ask of him, then that’s what he’ll do next.
“… We’ll do it together. It’ll help strengthen our eventual marriage.”
Wait, what?! Marcus does a double take, causing Elsenthia to giggle a little behind a raised hand.
“S-Sorry! I’m sorry… I just haven’t known how to bring this up if I’m being honest. Ah, but…”
The Princess quickly grows subdued as she looks around for a moment before reaching down and intertwining her fingers in his.
“… Probably best not to speak of it here. Come with me, please?”
And so Marcus finds himself letting the Princess lead him back to the caravan. Specifically, she leads him to a carriage that she’s been appointed in the wake of her mount’s demise. Unfortunately, the warhorse Elsenthia had ridden into battle had not survived its delimbing long enough for any of the healers to be able to get to it. Not even Angelina could resurrect that which was already dead.
Regardless, the carriage is richly appointed and most importantly comes with holy magic to shield it from attack as well as muffle any noise in or out of its wooden walls. Perfect for a… clandestine conversation as Elsenthia leads him in and quickly latches the door behind them.
Marcus sits down on the bench, fully expecting Elsenthia to sit down opposite him. Which is why he freezes in surprise when she kneels on the floor of the carriage instead, grabbing hold of his knees and pushing them apart.
“… What are you doing?”
Blushing profusely, the half-elven Princess bites her lower lip for a moment, as if unsure of what she’s doing herself. But then her resolve firms up and she looks him in the eye.
“You rescued me, Sir Hero. I am rewarding my gallant savior for his efforts.”
Blushing right back at her, Marcus shakes his head.
“You don’t have to do that. You don’t have to do anything; it was the right thing to do…”
Rather than sigh in relief and pull away, Elsenthia just gives him a broad smile.
“I know, Sir Hero. That’s why I want to. But… o-only if you want me to, of course. Just say the word and I’ll s-stop.”
Now Elsenthia looks insecure, staring up at him as her half-elven ears droop a little bit. She’s probably not doing it on purpose, but he can’t say no to those eyes. He also can’t bring himself to just say yes either. Instead, he averts his gaze and sighs.
“… If we’re going to do this, please just call me Marcus from now on.”
Elsenthia perks up, ears and all.
“And you can call me Elsenthia!”
Marcus’ eyes widen and he almost tells her that would be inappropriate, but he quickly realizes how silly it would be for him to object when he’d done so first. More than that, the words catch in his throat because Elsenthia has just undone the clasps on her chestplate and is pulling it away from her bust. He gulps as she sets aside the piece of armor, and then starts to work open her top, undoing laces at an exceeding fast and over-eager rate.
In the interest of trying to slow her down just a little bit, Marcus clears his throat.
“You said something about marriage back in the woods Pri-… Elsenthia.”
For a moment Elsenthia does tense up, but then she returns to exposing her breasts to him, unable to look him in the eye as she stares down at her laces like they’re some sort of uncrackable security lock.
“… Yes. I wish to preface this conversation by saying once again you will not be expected to do anything you don’t want to do, Marcus. I promise you, I will not let anyone, not even my mother, force you to marry me.”
He hadn’t even known that was a possibility! But before Marcus can say as much, Elsenthia’s pale breasts finally pop free, causing his breath to hitch. And then she just as quickly reaches out and pulls down his pants, freeing his growing green cock from its confines in record time. Before Marcus knows it, his shaft is encased within her bosom. The Princess of the Holy Empire has wrapped her tits around his cock, blushing as she does so.
“Do you… d-do you like it like this, Sir Marcus? If it doesn’t feel good, I can try something else…”
He can feel her heart beating rapidly against his girth. Her soft breasts envelope him, even as she shifts this way and that.
“N-No… it’s good…”
Marcus doesn’t know why he’s blushing just as hard as the Princess is. Perhaps BECAUSE she’s a Princess? He’s had plenty of sexual experiences over the last two months. Enough that he should have been more than capable of handling this situation with some degree of confidence. He was a veteran at sex by now! And yet… something about Elsenthia is leaving him completely caught off guard. Whether it’s her general innocence and lack of experience or this talk of marriage, he couldn’t say for sure.
He does know one thing though. They can’t possibly marry.
“I don’t… I don’t think they would accept me as your husband, Elsenthia. I’m not… I mean, I’m a half-orc, you know? I’m a half-monster.”
Elsenthia pauses at that, before glaring at him. She actually glares at him!
“You are NOT a monster, Marcus. Not even half of one. You are a good man… and the Destined Hero besides!”
She’d started out slow with shifting her breasts up and down his length, but as she gets heated, her movement gets faster, the friction increasing despite the incredibly pleasant softness of her breasts.
“Truth be told, I wish it didn’t matter at all… but you’re not wrong. Your status as a half-orc WILL matter to some people. But I wouldn’t be surprised if those same people were the ones who tricked the Holy Pope into sending only a Crusade’s worth of Paladins to deal with two thousand orcs. They will always be your enemies… and mine as well.”
Marcus doesn’t know what to say to that, so he says nothing.
“At the end of the day though, your Job and what you do with it are much more important than your origins. Let the fools decry you for your heritage. The people will recognize you as the Destined Hero… and the man who ended an Orc Warband and captured a Dark General as well. Your half-orc nature will mean nothing when we return to the Capital victorious with Roka-Ra in chains.”
She seems so sure of herself. So confident. Marcus, quite frankly, can’t bring himself to gainsay her. She would know more about this sort of thing than him anyways. If she says it… he’s sure it’s true. Of course, having his worries assuaged just means he has more time to focus on the fact that the Princess is on her knees before him, giving him a titjob. Likely her first ever titjob at that.
Marcus can’t help but flush as Elsenthia does the same. They both fall silent, staring up into one another’s eyes. Elsenthia slides her breasts up and down his member until… well, until Marcus is sure he can’t take anymore. Groaning, he endeavors to warn her.
“Elsenthia… I’m getting close!”
But the Princess does not pull away as he expects. She does not retreat or grab cloth from somewhere to catch his load. Instead, she moves even faster until a few moments later… Marcus explodes.
Much to his embarrassment, he cums all over her face and chest. Elsenthia gasps at the volume, her mouth opening partially in shock at just how copious his seed is. This, unfortunately, proves to be her undoing. A single rope of Marcus’ cum manages to find its way into Elsenthia’s mouth, landing on her tongue.
There’s a beat where the Princess freezes and Marcus wonders if he’s given her grave insult. And then, it’s like a lever has been pulled. Elsenthia turns into a ravenous beast, licking her lips first, and then around her lips… and then falling upon his messy cock and her equally messy chest and face with a ravenous fervor that shocks Marcus into a still silence. He watches with wide eyes as the Princess consumes every last drop of his cum off of both his softening prick AND her own body.
When she’s done a moment later, Elsenthia tenses… and then hurriedly fixes up her clothing without a word, before dashing out of the carriage. HER carriage. Marcus just sits there staring after her. He didn’t quite know what had happened, or how to feel about… everything they’d talked about.
Honestly, at times he wished he could go back to hunting bandits.
-x-X-x-
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He’s still reeling from everything Erised just told him as he turns to face the Princess. The disguised demon’s confession explains a lot about Roka-Ra’s motivations, as well as her decisions. Obviously, she hadn’t believed the letter for even a moment. Marcus still didn’t fully understand how the letter had made it into Roka-Ra’s hands all the way out in the wildlands, but Erised seemed pretty convinced it had.
And it certainly seemed likely. After all, why else would Roka-Ra be so enraged by his very existence, only to turn around and all but throw the duel afterwards? It wasn’t like she’d purposely lost the Tah-Mak-Ah, but she’d definitely stopped giving it her all at some point. With the information Marcus had now, he could look back and see that she’d somehow realized the letter was telling the truth, at least about his parentage.
Something he’d done, some way in which he fought, must have convinced Roka-Ra he WAS Gral-Ra’s son. And after she realized that, she’d simply stopped fighting at her full strength, until eventually he’d overcome her.
… But what did Erised expect Marcus to do about it now?! The die was already cast, wasn’t it? He’d thrown his lot in with the Crusade and Princess Elsenthia, and in the end he’d proven himself their Champion. He’d defeated Roka-Ra, sent the orcs packing, and now found himself heading back to the Capital alongside their caravan.
He couldn’t turn on them now, just because Roka-Ra recognized him. He couldn’t just forsake the bonds he’d made because Erised wanted him to be the Dark Lord and not the Destined Hero. Even if Marcus registered himself as the Dark Lord over the Destined Hero, everyone else from the Church and the Holy Empire saw him as the latter. So… why couldn’t he just BE the latter?
Of course, he tries his best not to let any of this show on his face as he turns to look in Elsenthia’s direction. He doesn’t want to worry her or give anything away. But unfortunately, subtle he is not. The moment he faces her, Marcus can tell from the way her smile flickers and concern fills her eyes that Elsenthia picks up on his distress and inner turmoil.
“Sir Hero? Is something wrong?”
How does he even begin to answer that? Nothing should be wrong, they’d won after all. But yes, several things were very, very wrong. He can’t tell her that though. He certainly can’t confide in her that he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to forgive Erised for her betrayal, or that he feels like he’s bottling up an unhealthy amount of anger within himself. Before he can think of what to say, however, the light of understanding dawns in the Princess’ eyes and she looks deeply apologetic.
“Forgive me, Sir Hero. Of course plenty is wrong. We might have won… but that’s barely any consolation for the dead, isn’t it? We lost hundreds of brave men and women and would have lost the entire battle if not for your valiant efforts. And here I am asking if something is wrong.”
… Yes. That was a reasonable excuse. Marcus doesn’t trust himself to speak though, so he just looks away, out through the woods in front of him. It probably said something awful about him that he hadn’t even thought of them all yet. Only of himself and the people close to him and how Erised’s actions would affect all of them. He should probably be more upset that Erised’s actions had led to so much death.
Unaware of the true nature of his inner turmoil, Elsenthia moves to stand by his side, placing a hand on his arm.
“I wondered what brought you out here, away from the caravan. I know that you, least of all, require any sort of warning about the dangers that might lurk in the woods. There isn’t a beast, brigand, or monster alive that could harm you.”
Letting out a sigh, Elsenthia shakes her head.
“We shouldn’t have lost so many people. We shouldn’t have been sent with such a small force either.”
That was something Marcus felt qualified to weigh in on, at least. His voice barely a murmur, he grunts.
“We were grossly outnumbered.”
“Yes. We were. I must confess… I smell something rotten in all of this. For all that she is a Dark General, Roka-Ra has never been this violent in all her years as an orc leader. The orcs in general have been relatively passive since the last Dark Lord’s passing. That they were riled up like this WITHOUT a new Dark Lord showing themselves… I suspect treachery.”
Marcus can’t help but flinch at that, knowing full well that it WAS treachery that had caused the first Orc Warband in hundreds of years. His own servant’s treachery. In that regard, while much of the blame could be laid at Roka-Ra’s feet for being easily led by her anger and a simple letter… plenty of blame could also be laid at Erised’s feet as well.
He knew that it was probably the height of foolishness to say the orcs would have stayed peaceful forever without Erised’s interference. The two thousand or so warriors who had answered Roka-Ra’s call were not exactly innocents led astray. They were savage creatures chomping at the bit and clearly just waiting for an excuse to get into a fucking fight with the Holy Empire. If it wasn’t Roka-Ra, it would have been someone else eventually.
… Maybe even him. Marcus likes to think that he would have done his best to temper the bloodlust and primal fury of his orcish forces if he DID take up the mantle of Dark Lord… but truth be told, he can’t say for sure. He’s no leader, he never has been. Honestly, that’s half the reason he prefers being the Destined Hero over the Dark Lord. One is very much the ‘do or die’ Job of the two. Being the Dark Lord would be much harder, and require more diplomacy than Marcus was sure he was capable of.
Regardless, Erised had nevertheless lit the match. She’d been the source of treachery Elsenthia was talking about. But Marcus holds his tongue. Even now, even after her betrayal, he can’t bring himself to betray Erised in turn. Having her offer to die at his hands or go into exile at his orders… it had sent a spike of honest fear through Marcus. He didn’t… no, he couldn’t lose her. No matter what she’d done.
That did not mean he wouldn’t discipline her though. As he stands there wordlessly with Elsenthia beside him, Marcus makes a silent promise to the unaware Princess that he WOULD try and make things right. Erised wasn’t going to get off easily by any measure. He just had to figure out exactly how he was supposed to punish a mistake of this magnitude without exercising the more permanent options he was currently balking at.
“… And of course there’s the other side of things to consider as well.”
Wait, what? Marcus furrows his brow, looking over at Elsenthia in confusion. The half-elven Princess is staring off into the woods as well when he does so, prompting her to glance at him and blink.
“They might be one and the same of course, Sir Hero. But just as much as Roka-Ra’s actions make little sense… the Empire’s response makes even less sense. Five hundred Paladins sent to combat two thousand orcs. The math doesn’t add up.”
Marcus narrows his eyes in thought for a moment before realizing Elsenthia is right.
“… Someone lied.”
Elsenthia smiles and gives him an encouraging nod, making Marcus flush a little bit as he realizes this conversation is as much her trying to draw him out of his shell as it is talking about why the battle was such a fucking farce.
“Exactly. I don’t for a second believe her Holiness would have sent us out here with only a single Crusade’s worth of men and women if she had known what we were up against. The Church might be in a state of contraction right now due to the Empire’s overall economy entering a decline, but that’s no excuse for such an outrageous disparity in numbers.”
Grimacing, Marcus nods in agreement. Serafina didn’t seem like the type to make such an unforced error… unless it WAS forced upon her by her enemies. It was crazy to think that the Holy Pope had been tricked, but at the same time… well, Elsenthia explains it best when she continues on a moment later.
“Her Holiness was given faulty intel, possibly by someone in her inner circle. Whether they knew that we would be sent with the Crusade or not, someone wanted the first attempt at routing Roka-Ra’s Warband to fail. They wanted the orcs to get deeper into the Empire for whatever reason.”
Marcus grunts at that, his mind whirling with thoughts. In the end though, he can’t think of what that reason can be, so he asks Elsenthia point blank.
“What reason could they have for wanting to let the orcs ravage a dozen border towns?”
Elsenthia’s smile turns incredibly bitter at that, and her arms cross over her chest as her hands clutch at her forearms.
“I can think of one. Her Holiness has long been mine and my mother’s greatest ally in the Capital. There are several within both the Nobility and the Church that would love to see our cause weakened and the Royal Family usurped. What better way than to let an Orc Warband reach all the way to the Capital walls before finally facing defeat? My capture and your death would have just been… icing on the cake.”
Her words ring true. And somehow, Marcus doesn’t think Erised was at all involved in this particular betrayal. She’d fucked up, there was no doubt in hid mind of that, but she’d also come clean. He couldn’t see her telling the truth about the letter… but then covering up some conspiracy among the Empire’s Nobility. Nor could he see her being involved in such a thing in the first place.
It was a little embarrassing, but Marcus was ever so slightly relieved that Erised was only partially culpable for how shitty things had turned out. Some of the tension bleeds out of his shoulders then, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the Princess, who shoots him a rueful smile.
“Heh, you’re the kind of man who likes to have an enemy to face, aren’t you? I tell you there’s bound to be enemies waiting for us back in the Capital who will be quite upset at our success, and you’re relieved rather than nervous. That’s the sort of man you are, Sir Hero. A good, strong man.”
Marcus blushes. That hadn’t been what he was thinking at all, but it’s not like he can tell Elsenthia that. Besides, she’s at least a little right. He’s not exactly looking forward to cleaning up the Capital like she thinks he is, but he’s also not going to shirk his duty. If that’s what she and the Holy Pope ask of him, then that’s what he’ll do next.
“… We’ll do it together. It’ll help strengthen our eventual marriage.”
Wait, what?! Marcus does a double take, causing Elsenthia to giggle a little behind a raised hand.
“S-Sorry! I’m sorry… I just haven’t known how to bring this up if I’m being honest. Ah, but…”
The Princess quickly grows subdued as she looks around for a moment before reaching down and intertwining her fingers in his.
“… Probably best not to speak of it here. Come with me, please?”
And so Marcus finds himself letting the Princess lead him back to the caravan. Specifically, she leads him to a carriage that she’s been appointed in the wake of her mount’s demise. Unfortunately, the warhorse Elsenthia had ridden into battle had not survived its delimbing long enough for any of the healers to be able to get to it. Not even Angelina could resurrect that which was already dead.
Regardless, the carriage is richly appointed and most importantly comes with holy magic to shield it from attack as well as muffle any noise in or out of its wooden walls. Perfect for a… clandestine conversation as Elsenthia leads him in and quickly latches the door behind them.
Marcus sits down on the bench, fully expecting Elsenthia to sit down opposite him. Which is why he freezes in surprise when she kneels on the floor of the carriage instead, grabbing hold of his knees and pushing them apart.
“… What are you doing?”
Blushing profusely, the half-elven Princess bites her lower lip for a moment, as if unsure of what she’s doing herself. But then her resolve firms up and she looks him in the eye.
“You rescued me, Sir Hero. I am rewarding my gallant savior for his efforts.”
Blushing right back at her, Marcus shakes his head.
“You don’t have to do that. You don’t have to do anything; it was the right thing to do…”
Rather than sigh in relief and pull away, Elsenthia just gives him a broad smile.
“I know, Sir Hero. That’s why I want to. But… o-only if you want me to, of course. Just say the word and I’ll s-stop.”
Now Elsenthia looks insecure, staring up at him as her half-elven ears droop a little bit. She’s probably not doing it on purpose, but he can’t say no to those eyes. He also can’t bring himself to just say yes either. Instead, he averts his gaze and sighs.
“… If we’re going to do this, please just call me Marcus from now on.”
Elsenthia perks up, ears and all.
“And you can call me Elsenthia!”
Marcus’ eyes widen and he almost tells her that would be inappropriate, but he quickly realizes how silly it would be for him to object when he’d done so first. More than that, the words catch in his throat because Elsenthia has just undone the clasps on her chestplate and is pulling it away from her bust. He gulps as she sets aside the piece of armor, and then starts to work open her top, undoing laces at an exceeding fast and over-eager rate.
In the interest of trying to slow her down just a little bit, Marcus clears his throat.
“You said something about marriage back in the woods Pri-… Elsenthia.”
For a moment Elsenthia does tense up, but then she returns to exposing her breasts to him, unable to look him in the eye as she stares down at her laces like they’re some sort of uncrackable security lock.
“… Yes. I wish to preface this conversation by saying once again you will not be expected to do anything you don’t want to do, Marcus. I promise you, I will not let anyone, not even my mother, force you to marry me.”
He hadn’t even known that was a possibility! But before Marcus can say as much, Elsenthia’s pale breasts finally pop free, causing his breath to hitch. And then she just as quickly reaches out and pulls down his pants, freeing his growing green cock from its confines in record time. Before Marcus knows it, his shaft is encased within her bosom. The Princess of the Holy Empire has wrapped her tits around his cock, blushing as she does so.
“Do you… d-do you like it like this, Sir Marcus? If it doesn’t feel good, I can try something else…”
He can feel her heart beating rapidly against his girth. Her soft breasts envelope him, even as she shifts this way and that.
“N-No… it’s good…”
Marcus doesn’t know why he’s blushing just as hard as the Princess is. Perhaps BECAUSE she’s a Princess? He’s had plenty of sexual experiences over the last two months. Enough that he should have been more than capable of handling this situation with some degree of confidence. He was a veteran at sex by now! And yet… something about Elsenthia is leaving him completely caught off guard. Whether it’s her general innocence and lack of experience or this talk of marriage, he couldn’t say for sure.
He does know one thing though. They can’t possibly marry.
“I don’t… I don’t think they would accept me as your husband, Elsenthia. I’m not… I mean, I’m a half-orc, you know? I’m a half-monster.”
Elsenthia pauses at that, before glaring at him. She actually glares at him!
“You are NOT a monster, Marcus. Not even half of one. You are a good man… and the Destined Hero besides!”
She’d started out slow with shifting her breasts up and down his length, but as she gets heated, her movement gets faster, the friction increasing despite the incredibly pleasant softness of her breasts.
“Truth be told, I wish it didn’t matter at all… but you’re not wrong. Your status as a half-orc WILL matter to some people. But I wouldn’t be surprised if those same people were the ones who tricked the Holy Pope into sending only a Crusade’s worth of Paladins to deal with two thousand orcs. They will always be your enemies… and mine as well.”
Marcus doesn’t know what to say to that, so he says nothing.
“At the end of the day though, your Job and what you do with it are much more important than your origins. Let the fools decry you for your heritage. The people will recognize you as the Destined Hero… and the man who ended an Orc Warband and captured a Dark General as well. Your half-orc nature will mean nothing when we return to the Capital victorious with Roka-Ra in chains.”
She seems so sure of herself. So confident. Marcus, quite frankly, can’t bring himself to gainsay her. She would know more about this sort of thing than him anyways. If she says it… he’s sure it’s true. Of course, having his worries assuaged just means he has more time to focus on the fact that the Princess is on her knees before him, giving him a titjob. Likely her first ever titjob at that.
Marcus can’t help but flush as Elsenthia does the same. They both fall silent, staring up into one another’s eyes. Elsenthia slides her breasts up and down his member until… well, until Marcus is sure he can’t take anymore. Groaning, he endeavors to warn her.
“Elsenthia… I’m getting close!”
But the Princess does not pull away as he expects. She does not retreat or grab cloth from somewhere to catch his load. Instead, she moves even faster until a few moments later… Marcus explodes.
Much to his embarrassment, he cums all over her face and chest. Elsenthia gasps at the volume, her mouth opening partially in shock at just how copious his seed is. This, unfortunately, proves to be her undoing. A single rope of Marcus’ cum manages to find its way into Elsenthia’s mouth, landing on her tongue.
There’s a beat where the Princess freezes and Marcus wonders if he’s given her grave insult. And then, it’s like a lever has been pulled. Elsenthia turns into a ravenous beast, licking her lips first, and then around her lips… and then falling upon his messy cock and her equally messy chest and face with a ravenous fervor that shocks Marcus into a still silence. He watches with wide eyes as the Princess consumes every last drop of his cum off of both his softening prick AND her own body.
When she’s done a moment later, Elsenthia tenses… and then hurriedly fixes up her clothing without a word, before dashing out of the carriage. HER carriage. Marcus just sits there staring after her. He didn’t quite know what had happened, or how to feel about… everything they’d talked about.
Honestly, at times he wished he could go back to hunting bandits.
-x-X-x-
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