by Lora Darc
Surrendering to the Ravager
Fire and death. That was all Mergoth felt he had come to know. Ever since the mines, it was all that had filled his head. Fire—destruction—and death at first just to his own brethren, watching as the human masters ripped his kind to shreds both body and soul. Then at his own hand. He cut the bonds from his and other’s arms and legs and used teeth and nails to rip open the guards. Blood dripped from his mouth and hands and he felt like a savage. But he was enraged, feral. It’s what they had made him to be.
When he got his hands on a short ax, that’s when things became a blur of red and black. Until he was outside the mines with others of his kind and they were looking to him to lead the way. And Mergoth had led.
He had found other orcs hiding in the dark caves of the mountain pass. He showed him is rage and they understood. The humans wouldn’t stand a chance. For years his kind had been abused and enslaved, but no more.
Fire and death were now his to wield.
No human would make him bend again.
***
The day grew hot as the sun peaked in the sky, no cloud to be seen. Jaslene stepped through the grassy meadow wiping a hand over her brow. With bare feet she crept lightly through the dry long grass, crouching every so often to examine the few bushes scattered between the meadow and the woods.
Cicadas sang nearby and bees hummed about but Jaslene didn’t take notice. With a basket in hand, she bent forward, tearing off twigs with reddish leaves and pink flowers—Aris flowers used for medicinal purposes. They were not easy to come by and in high demand among healers, relieving pain and promoting calming effects.
In a time of war, it was badly needed.
Jaslene would have gone out first thing in the morning to look for them, but the battle cries, sounds of clashing metal, and terrifying roars in the distance—and all through the night—kept her locked away in her small cottage. Because the Crimson Legion had finally come.
Hard to believe they were actually here when the only evidence Jaslene had for months were the stories picked up by traders and soldiers in the village (now turned army post) nearby. The orcs had come from the shadow mountains, through the barren pass nearly two months ago and had been slowly making their way through the forests and into the countryside. The soldiers from the kingdom had come to defend but were being picked off one battle at a time.
The orc legion had come for revenge, for years of genocide and entrapment. And they were winning.
Led, the villagers said, by a legendary orc warrior and general. Mergoth the Ravager. Jaslene could see the fear rise in the people’s faces at the mention of his name. Even soldiers would grip tightly to their swords, their faces paling when word got around of Mergoth’s rage spreading death and destruction down the mountainside. Horus, the town’s silver trader, once told the story of how Mergoth had escaped enslavement in the gem mines with a band of brethren and slaughtered their masters without mercy. That’s when they had fled and disappeared into the mountains, returning six months later with an army.
They seemed unstoppable and the kingdom was in a panic, desperate to regain their army’s strength after a harsh blow. Mergoth was unlike any orc they had faced. He wasn’t just vicious and violent like the others had been; he was also shockingly cunning. Something most orcs lacked. His battle tactics were impressive by even the most advanced kingdom’s standards. The orcs no longer rushed blindly into battle with axes and hammers drawn hoping to take out as many in their path as possible before they were taken out themselves. They now swarmed, snuck, and assassinated. They’d wait till cover of night and hit the kingdom’s army in their sleep. They sent groups to take out caravans for supplies. The only thing they had yet to do was raid a village, only because they had yet to discover one. But they were getting closer and Jaslene’s village was likely the next target. The first village between the mountains and the kingdom.
Jaslene’s cottage was just a quarter of a mile outside the main village square. Her nearest neighbor a farmer named Mclane. She knew she was vulnerable, but Jaslene refused to leave no matter how many times the villagers warned her to. This was her home and she was a healer, not a fighter.
She had seen the soldiers riding down the dirt path passed her home the other day, their faces grim but defiant. She didn’t think they stood much of a chance until she had seen Captain Reylyn leading them. He might be one of the few to put a dent in the orcs legion and keep them at bay for maybe a few more days.
The sounds of battle the night before gave away no sign as to who might have won. Jaslene had placed a tight spell around her home ready to find orcs creeping past her backyard with evil yellow eyes shining in the dark. But to her surprise there had been none. She waited until morning to see if any soldiers came instead but neither did they.
Worry ate at her and so she straddled her quick, chestnut pony and made for the village. The villagers stood about the square conversing and waiting, but when she asked if any soldiers had come back from the battle they shook their heads, their faces ashen.
Determined to help when the time came, Jaslene rode away, back towards home and to the meadows nearby in search of the elusive flower in hopes of making a potion.
She felt a trickle of sweat trail down her back as she straightened up and stretched. Jaslene had a good few flowers picked now, hidden away in her basket, but she would need a few more before she could return home to make a potion.
As she walked the meadow, a scattering of thin trees brought much needed shade as Jaslene made her way closer to the forest’s edge. A light breeze picked up, brushing against her auburn curls and white cotton dress, bring the scent of iron. Jaslene scrunched her nose, the smell stinging her nostrils. With the scent also came the smell of leather and a dark earthy musk. A sudden chill rippled down her body and Jaslene inhaled sharply. Curious, she made her way further into the woods, climbed up a small inline, and looked around. Her eyes drew over to a great oak a couple yards away and she saw the silhouette of a large body slump below its twisting branches.
A soldier, she thought and rushed forward. As she got closer, however, her pace slowed until she was at a dead stop before the body lying against the tree. Her eyes widened and she dropped her basket.
Not a soldier. A massive orc lay before her.
***
The battle had been won but not without great sacrifice. Morgoth had stood at the top of the hill looking down the dark valley, the moon rising behind him. Swathed in leather and metal, and the great ax at his side, he was ready to lay waste to another set of human soldier scum before him. But with sharp glowing eyes observing carefully, he could see these soldiers were different, more skilled.
The other soldiers had been just easy pickings, the human’s kingdom hoping that sending out their weakest first would tire his legion out before sending out their best. But it had only made him and his army stronger. And the kingdom was now growing worried. They were upon their first village and the kingdom was forced to send their finest in hopes of protecting their own.
Mergoth turned his head to his second in command, Belize. He looked back at him and Mergoth nodded. They had planned it out before.
Mergoth had seen the captain of the guard in the throngs of human soldiers, swerving around them on his horse, ready to fight. He was would be Mergoth’s trophy.
The battle commenced and his horde slunk down the hillside. He had shown them how to fight and they had learned well. No more blind swings hoping to make a hit. Now was the time to think before one struck, to understand their opponent’s movements. To use the enemies tactics against them.
When Mergoth caught the captain’s face grow pale with disbelief at seeing another set of orcs come racing out of the forest behind his men, Mergoth had smiled. Then slowly made his way down the hill…
The fight lasted longer than he expected. Though the human captain had been caught off guard by his legion’s sneak attack, he still fought with a resilience Mergoth found impressive. They squared
off on the field and Mergoth put everything into his attack, knowing that defeating the captain would give them a solid advantage in winning the war.
Metal clanged against metal, punches were thrown. Mergoth swerved and dodged each of the captain’s attacks with ease.
Until Mergoth spotted Belize being swarmed by several men. He was forced to draw back from the captain to take out the human soldiers attacking his comrade. Together they took them out but not before the captain drew out his crossbow and sank not one but two arrows into Mergoth’s lower belly.
Enraged, Mergoth went for him and they fought once more now with Mergoth at a disadvantage. The captain got one slice from his sword into Mergoth’s thigh when Mergoth made the final blow, striking his ax into the captain’s stomach, cutting him nearly in half. Mergoth cracked him in the nose for good measure and the captain went down permanently.
Seeing their captain fall, the human soldiers began to retreat. The orcs, too consumed with bloodlust, went charging after them into the forest. Mergoth followed slowly behind until he slumped against a tree and fell to the ground.
He didn’t fear death. He now knew his brethren had a chance to make it without him. He had given Belize all the information he needed to keep going, to lead the legion to victory. He could die happy knowing that they could win.
But to his annoyance, as the sun began to rise, his body still held on. He couldn’t seem to let go just yet. He lay against the tree and closed his eyes, waiting for death.
After what like an eternity, he felt a cool hand on his arm. He smiled thinking it was the god of death himself coming to lead him to the Otherlands. But when he opened his eyes, he saw a woman instead. One with deep reddish hair and striking blue eyes. He frowned in confusion. Death was a stunningly beautiful maiden? No, that can’t be right.
His eyes focused on her more, seeing beams of sun hitting locks of her hair like some fiery angel.
His eyes narrowed.
No, this wasn’t death. This was a human girl.
***
With shaky limbs, Jaslene knelt before the orc and studied him from a few feet away. He was huge and thick muscled like she had been told. Though it was said the orcs were usually of dark blue or gray skin, this one seemed to be an albino, with light gray skin and white hair. She caught a glimpse of fangs protruding from his upper lip and of long pointed ears.
She thought he was dead at first until she caught his chest moving. Though his eyes were closed and his head bent, Jaslene could see he was alive but likely unconscious.
Her healer senses kicked in and she drew closer to better examine him. She saw two arrows sticking into his stomach and a deep cut in his thigh. Blood trickled from each and she could only imagine how much he had lost in the night. Putting her fear aside she lightly touched on a bare section of his arm that wasn’t encased in leather and metal. The orc seemed to stir, then his eyelids slowly opened.
He looked on her with deep yellowish-orange eyes, searching her face as if not recognizing who or even what she was. He frowned and his eyes narrowed, and when Jaslene opened her mouth to say...well, she wasn’t exactly sure what, he immediately flinched away from her touch and hissed violently.
Jaslene shot her hand away and nearly stumbled back as she quickly rose from the ground. A guttural growl sounded in the orc’s throat and he bared his fangs and glared at her with cat-like eyes. She backed a few feet away, her body shuddering, but she didn’t run away. Though the orc was completely savage and feral with anger, Jaslene could see he was too wounded to even likely defend himself. At least not well. She saw no weapons around him, leading her to believe he had dropped his while trudging through the forest. He could harm her with his wicked fangs and claws, but he seemed too weak to even stand, let alone slash at her.
Jaslene watched the orc clutch at his side and wince in pain but his eyes never left hers. She pursed her lips, thinking.
She was a healer, but no one ever told her she had to pick a side. Yes, technically being a citizen of the kingdom made the orc her enemy. But what her kingdom did to the orcs was atrocious. If she healed this one, maybe she could show that not all humans were bad. Maybe she could convince him to spare the innocent.
Determined, Jaslene nodded and turned from him. She picked up her basket and raced back through the meadow to her horse still grazing then rode off toward home.
In her barn, she found some rope and a blanket. Placing the items on her horse’s back, she went off again to the forest.
When she got back to the large oak, she found the orc hadn’t bothered to move, perhaps too weak to do so. He seemed to have also fallen asleep.
Taking advantage of the moment, Jaslene took the blanket and set it flat on the ground then she quickly took hold of the orc’s feet. It was a nightmare trying to drag him enough onto the blanket as he was so heavy, Jaslene had to use a few thick branches for aid to lift his body. Once she had the ropes securely around the blanket and his torso, she tied the ends to her pony’s saddle and mounted up. She worried the rope might not hold at first but as she allowed her horse to take off at a slow pace, she could see it was secure enough as long as the orc didn’t get caught on any rocks along the way.
It took twice the time to get home but when she finally did, Jaslene led her horse toward the barn. If she thought she could carry the orc, she would have brought him into the cottage, but there was no way she would be able to nor did she think he would fit. So instead she rode into the barn with its bare ground and rolled hay. She untied the ropes then unsaddled her horse and led him into his stall. She untied the rest from the orc, allowing him to lay flat on the now dirtied blanket. Somehow he hadn’t awakened from their trip and she feared he was slipping. She raced to the cottage and quickly filled a jug of water from the well then hurried back to the barn and knelt beside him.
Carefully Jaslene placed her hand under the orc’s head, lifting him, and brought the lip of the jug to his mouth. Water poured between his lips but much of it spilled down his jaw, to the ground. He stirred again a little after and Jaslene felt he had a chance. But she had to work quickly.
***
Mergoth fell in and out of dreams, unable to recognize what was real and what wasn’t. He saw the beautiful girl again, hovering above him and felt cool, delicate hands on his limbs and stomach. He felt a rush of pain slice through him as the arrows in his hardened belly were pulled out and then the searing burn and sting of alcohol. Cool wet leaves were pressed to his skin then the warm wrap of cloth. The same was done to his thigh. It took him some time to realize that what he thought were dreams were actually real. It took even longer to realize (and come to terms with) the reality that the human girl from before had somehow saved him and was now healing him.
It seemed impossible. Why would she do this?
His mind raced with the possibilities. Most theories involving the idea that she wanted to return him to full strength in order to hand him over as a prisoner of the kingdom for what would surely be a fortune, allowing her to live in comfort the rest of her days. The idea maddened him but still he was too weak to defend or escape. He could only allow her to continue working on his body. Hopefully, he could regain his strength back and run before she called on any soldiers.
He slept for a long time, unable to do much else. Eventually, when he was able to keep himself awake and coherent enough, he would watch the girl silently as she worked. He noticed soon enough that she had somehow managed to strip him of all his armor and clothes, leaving only a simple cloth to cover his privates. He observed a small fire pit close to him on his left and various herbs and bottles on his right, labeling her as some sort of healer.
Every day she would come and check on him, making sure his wounds were healing properly, giving him water and bits of meat. He noticed her blush a few times at him and he couldn’t fathom why. She said nothing to him, assuming he wouldn’t be able to understand her which wasn’t entirely true. Though he wasn’t so good at speaking the human tongue, he understo
od it well enough from his time having to obey orders from the masters of the mines.
As the days passed, he began to watch her more and more closely, no longer just out of uncertainty, but now from curiosity as well. He took to watching her hands as she worked, crushing up herbs and cooking food. Then watching her as she moved, her hips swaying as she walked, the slip of her slender legs under her dress. A few times when she bent down he caught the creamy swells of her breasts. She was a lovely sight indeed and he began to fear she might be some kind of witch, preparing him to serve her as some mindless drudge. But when he sensed no nefarious magic in the air, only the sweet scent of Jasmine and lavender upon her, he dispelled the idea quickly.
He began to notice that she too was watching him. At first with unease, then soon also with a sort of curiosity. Though he was still defensive, he couldn’t help being fascinated by the girl and when she started to look at him with fondness, it made something deep inside him stir uncontrollably. It scared him badly at first. She was just a human girl. He hated humans. He should hate her. But he found he couldn’t. He was being drawn to her.
***
Jaslene sat by the orcs side, stirring an iron pot, mixing in broken pieces of Aris flowers into the deep red liquid. The orc watched her as usual and Jaslene blushed (as usual) and looked away. Before, when she had first treated him, she had kept her composure firm and serious, for as a healer one needed to be clear-minded and unjudging. The only instance where she slipped was when she was forced to remove the orc’s clothing. Getting the stinky leather and armor off wasn’t an issue though difficult as it was.
But when she unbuckled his leather belt and pulled down his pants, she stilled and couldn’t keep the gasp from escaping her lips as his massive cock sprung free and lay against his stomach. Jaslene had blushed furiously but then shook her head, quickly reminding herself what she needed to do. Once she had the arrows removed and the wounds disinfected and bandaged, she placed a cloth over him, trying not to notice his thick length twitch as she did so.