The Realm of Order and Chaos

Disclaimer: All characters depicted are 18 or older, even if specified otherwise.

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Chapter 1

Aravaris felt safe once she left the high stone walls of Meadowlands, past the magical warding that protected the city from foreign invaders, through the dark oak trees that towered beyond view, into the grassy clearing that signaled nature and mystery. Her father insisted that she should never leave the city walls, and a party of the most boring elves in the realm escorted her to and fro. Her father was the king, after all, he had to protect his precious daughter from any thugs or vagrants that dared approach.

But in the surrounding forest, there was no escort, no party of buffoons to plead forgiveness for, no risk of every micro-action being woven into political jaw-smacking. Aravaris had her silver dagger, bow and quiver of thirty steel arrows to solve potential problems, with no moral grandstanding to force her to do otherwise. The Elvish realm of politics and war were grey and liveless to Arvi, but she was no stranger to conflict. Raised with strict tutors and schedules, she knew the lineage of Elvish rulers for ten thousand years, and the ancient words to summon a magical firestorm, with the neighboring lands for a dozen leagues in her mind like a photograph.

She made her way off the beaten path, into the foliage and away from any possible people traversing the unforgiving forest. Most travelers hurried into the nearby Elvish city, gleefully hiding behind its walls with warm taverns and cold ale. Orcs and Humans liked to pretend Elves didn't exist, with the wild and dangerous forests surrounding their cities. But the Humans came frequently to trade, the brave ones at least, while the Orcs were almost never seen in Elvish lands, with no easy targets to raid and a vast magical forest to repel them they would have no business being here.

Her padded leather armor was clearly Elvish, with strong green dyes and intricate weavings of golden thread forming the sigil of her house on her left shoulder, a watchful owl resting on a tree branch. Her platinum blonde hair, finely brushed by her handmaidens, was tied up into a tight, straight, long ponytail of silk bouncing behind her head. Arvi inhaled the crisp morning air, tickling her small nostrils with pollen. Her dark, royal blue eyes revealed nothing with an empty stare while her stance told of confidence and strength, her right hand gripping her carved bow tightly. Arvi kept an arrow in her left hand, resting her fingers on the bowstring, ready to notch and loose an arrow in an instant should a target come into view.

This was not the first time she'd wander the giant, empty green wonderland of her people, and even if it was, the local creatures were well documented in her lessons. A minotaur in heat would take her down in an instant if she allowed him the correct positioning, and a pack of direwolves would make short work of her supple elf flesh, both regularly sighted and dealt with by Elf rangers. When Arvi was a little girl, she admired their service and remembered begging her father to join them. Thus began her father's favorite past-time; reminding Aravaris that she is the princess of all Elvish people and above such work.

Arvi halted, hiding her small frame behind the trunk of a massive, mossy oak tree. Her pointy ears perked and twitched while she craned her neck around the bark of the tree to better see the source of audible disturbance.

Two hulk-like figures stood in a shrouded, thickly forested area just a few dozen meters from her, clearly armored and armed, with the bigger of the two carrying a claymore on his back. That eliminated a lot of possibilities, as both of them were too big to be Elvish or Human, and a simple race won't wear armor or carry weapons. Even with those options eliminated, she could scantily believe Orcs dared to enter so deeply into Elvish land. Arvi notched her bow with an arrow and crouched into a low position as she walked out from behind the tree she was previously hiding behind. With a slightly better look, she could tell they were moving away from her with their backs turned. She moved closer to her targets, gleaming what information she could as the distance was closed.

The bigger Orc was a few steps ahead of the smaller one, his hair a dark black color, tied back in a short ponytail one would see on a tribal warrior. His facial hair was thick, she could tell just from the side profile of his face, and covered the lower half of his face in a straight black-haired grove. His skin was a darker green, darker than Aravaris's elven tunic, meaning he was more Orc than anything else, and the sword on his back was as tall as her. His armor was a mixture of patched chainmail, scale mail, and small bits of rusted platemail, various tools and smaller weapons on his belt as well as a purse. Most Orc refused to openly carry currency or use it, rather they horde it and use it collectively as a way to get slaves, gear, food, tools, whatever the Orc tribes need to survive the northern winters.

Aravaris turned her attention to the second Orc, a smaller male with wavy, thick black hair that was longer than most and more human than Orc. His skin was a light green, almost pale like human skin, and his entire body frame was thinner, shorter, and lighter. He was wearing light leather clothing, not even quite armor, with an Elvish made shortsword on his hip and a simple bow on his back, only five arrows in his small quiver. His head kept staring forward, rarely looking at his surroundings, while Arvi noticed the bigger Orc slowly tilt his head over time. She wasn't sure what either of them wanted, or if she could kill both while alone. Arvi wasn't even sure if she should kill them; practically none of the rangers she knew reported Orc sightings, and they weren't interested in the nearby city as they moved further away from it, toward the northern mountains. She did know of Orc tribes living there; perhaps they were lost and heading home.

The ever-optimist, Arvi scolded herself. The Elf women loosened the arrow in her bow and began to follow them, putting herself behind foliage while they moved gracelessly through her home. She was impressed watching the larger Orc spot and avoid a minotaur cave, a-typical Orc behavior as well as displaying a level of knowledge no one thought Orcs capable of, according to Elvish lore at least. The two wasted no time searching for roads or cabins, and left behind a relatively small footprint if someone were to try and track them through normal means. They walked and walked, crossing streams and navigating sections of poisonous plants, and soon Arvi lost herself in the silent pursuit through the green forest. The sun was barely out when she started, orange beams blasting through the giant trees and branches, and by the time the pair stopped to hunt a particularly impressive deer, they had crossed several leagues toward the northern mountains, and the sun was beginning its descend in the sky. Aravaris knew her father would ask questions when she returned home, but that was better than allowing these Orcs to do harm in Elvish land, or murdering two people for returning home. If she was a true ranger, she would have been honor-bound to attack them the moment she saw them; being princess had a perk or two.

The two Orcs began splitting off from each other, the smaller one pursuing the deer and the larger moving toward a sizable hill within eyeshot. Arvi felt a pang of fear as she contemplated whether or not this was her time to strike. It would be easiest to follow the hunter and kill him first, then the bigger Orc, perhaps after he nods off tonight. Her desire for a clean, riskless kill was interfering with her better judgement, she realized, as the trip back would not be simple in the dark.

Her thoughts were swept away when she realized how much distance both of them had made away from her; Arvi was paralyzed with choice, and eventually realized her only choice now was to follow the larger Orc, as his pace was much more relaxed. He made his way to the sizable hill surrounded by larger-than-life oaks and pines, the beginning of the rocky formations that would eventually become mountains in the nearby incline. What seemed like just around the corner, practically, was a small cave opening empty of bears or minotaurs. The large Orc began gathering tinder and fuel for a fire, and in no time flat was sitting in front of an inferno just inside the slightly dark cave. Arvi settled into a perch in one of the larger trees, probably closer to the Orc than she should be, but with a perfect view to further examine him.

Now that she could see his face, she noticed the maroon red war paint on his left eye, and the scar trailing down his right, his facial hair seemed brushed and trimmed as well. The Orc was now sharpening his large sword, resting it in his lap and running a sharpening stone along the edge. It took no time at all for the second Orc to arrive with a deer on his shoulders, which he wordlessly dropped next to the fire, and took a dagger to dress. When pieces of meat came out of the animal, the larger Orc began cooking the meat on a stone next to the fire, the smell wafting up to Arvi's nose. She could hear the sizzling from here, and the golden charred texture on the meat was plain to see.

The Elf princess took the opportunity to get a ration from her satchel, and silently chewed on her bread. The second Orc only ceased cutting at the deer when it was a carcass, and between the two men they had begun devouring the deer. Arvi couldn't tell if there was a power dynamic between the two, as there always is in Orc culture, but it did seem like the hunter was letting the bigger Orc eat first, and a larger share of the kill at that. But the smaller Orc didn't seem afraid, or angry. In fact both of them seemed... peaceful? If Orcs could be described as such.

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For a moment the world was unbelievably calm to Kilroy, his aching legs finally getting a break while his stomach was filled with sweet venison, a luxury even in the best of times. After he had his fill, he continued sharpening his great sword with an eye trained on the surrounding forest. Elves were very territorial, even to traveling Orcs whereas most Orcs are in their mystical forests for more nefarious reasons. He knew the risks and had no other choice despite his best intentions. Roads were more likely to lead to conflict with a force they couldn't overcome, but stomping around the Elf rangers' backyard put them on a huge disadvantage as well. Kilroy's brain wouldn't let his mind rest, playing back every mistake he made to put himself in this situation, cataloguing the missteps and itemizing every poor judgement into a room inside of his head, one he locked himself into and ate the key.

He glanced at Colborn while the lad was busy stripping skin off of his kill, folding it into his pack for clothes or bartering. Kilroy wasn't sure it was time to stop for the day, they were still within half a days walk to the Elvish capital city they narrowly avoided. Odds are if they pushed another half days march they'd be well out of range of any wandering rangers. Then they'd only have minotaurs and wolves to deal with, even magical predators would recognize the threat two armed Orcs posed. Or perhaps Kilroy was deceiving himself with optimism again.

It was Colborn that broke the silence; it was always Colborn that broke the silence. "Kilroy, are we staying for the night?"

The larger Orc continued brooding for a moment. "Haven't decided."

"Well, we made good time, and avoided the elves. I'd call today a win." Colborn took his tunic off, revealing his hairless, lime green chest. Despite being smaller, he was still fit, with clearly defined muscle. Kilroy barely noticed.

"And you'd be right up until the moment you closed your eyes to sleep. Then your head'd be some frilly elf boy's war trophy." Kilroy sheathed his great sword.

Colborn rolled his eyes, but Kilroy wasn't paying attention. "Paranoia isn't very attractive."

"Good thing your opinion is worth less than shit." Kilroy seemed calm and unphased by the conversation. "If it wasn't you'd be dead by now."

"That's why you're my warrior." Colborn unbuckled Kilroy's sword from his back and laid it gently on the stone ground beside the fire.

"And what's this about?" Kilroy asked.

"It's been a time since either of us preformed our sacred duty." Colborn started with the rusted plate, unbuckling and stripping various layers of armor until Kilroy was in leather garments not unlike his own.

"It can't be our duty if we live outside of the tribe." Kilroy remained by the fire, next to his arms and armor while Colborn unfurled his bedroll on the stone floor.

"Hm, I suppose. Does that mean you have no interest beyond duty?" Colborn found himself taking off his own weapons next to his pack beside his bedroll.

"I am a warrior. My life is my duty." Kilroy said.

"And yet you find yourself with no duty." Colborn said, as Kilroy turned to his companion once he sat down next to the fire.

"Aye."

Colborn rested his hand on Kilroy's thigh. "Do you think I followed you in exile because of duty? Or because you are my warrior?"

Kilroy scanned his brown eyes, as if he would find the answer inside of them. "What is the difference? You are here, and you can't go back. I am humbled by your loyalty."

Colborn brushed his own hair behind his ear, before pulling the entirety of it behind his head in a ponytail that was more feminine than tribal, black fabric tied in a knot to keep it so. "I'm glad. When will I see the fruits of my labor?"

"You'd have to be more specific." Kilroy turned to the open flame, noticing the sun begin to change the color of the sky as dusk settled into the Elven forest.

"You really did just do it for duty, then. Did we share no real moment? Did you enjoy none of it?"

"I enjoyed my duty, as did you as I remember. Are you so unsure of yourself?" Kilroy seemed to show some concern in his tone.

"I'm unsure of many things. But you are top of the list." Colborn pulled his knees into his bare chest, wrapping his arms around them.

"In all these years you've never seemed to want, and yet, you act as if I wronged you." Kilroy rested his open palms to the flame, soaking in the warmth.

The two remained silent as the sun slowly disappeared, and the wolves began howling. Kilroy fed the fire with his pile of tinder and fuel, keeping it strong and fostering a bed of embers to keep it burning throughout the night. After the fire was settled he had a hard time taking his eyes away from the caves mouth that they were so close to. The smoke would fill the cave otherwise.

"You must know what I ask; don't act as if you lack imagination."

Kilroy gave his companion a look. "You don't have to do that anymore, you know. It's not as if we have anything to lose."

Colborn slid into Kilroy's side, eliminating the distance between them. "You are my warrior." He gazed back at the painted and scarred eyes, Kilroy's orange pupils contrasting and lacking emotion.

Kilroy placed a hand on Colborn's chest, before forcing him down onto his back and flipping his body like a ragdoll. There Colborn laid on his bare stomach before his hips were pulled upwards and backwards, his knees instinctively supporting his new dog-like position while his arms rested against the cool ground.

Kilroy yanked Colborn's leather trousers down to his knees, immobilizing him and revealing his plumb green ass to the forest. "I picked a good bottom." He removed a waterskin from his own trousers before pulling them down to his knees. Colborn could feel the blazing warmth from the fire, and the heat emanating from Kilroy's thick cock while it hovered near his butt. And without warning a cold dribble of oil poured over his back door, with a thick Orc finger not far behind, pushing the slick liquid inside of his hole with a purpose. Kilroy wasted no time forcing more lube in with a second finger, that pushed its way inside and massaged his sensitive hole inside out, making his asshole slick enough to fuck.

Colborn turned his head toward his warrior, his ponytail keeping his hair out of the way while he watched Kilroy prepare his hole for an accommodating evening. His own erection was squeezed between his glued legs and bare stomach, but his balls impossible to hide received a good molesting with Kilroy's other hand, while it wasn't stroking his own Orc cock with lube or squeezing Colborn's ass.

"Keep it down." Kilroy said this as his thick, green and pink cock pushed into his ass, and both of his large hands took his lime green butt cheeks in a firm grip. Colborn's fingers dug into the floor of the cave as he closed his eyes and moaned softly, trying to listen to his warrior.

The first thrust was slow, tantalizing to them both, but they'd experienced what happened when the warrior went too fast. Kilroy had his back to the cave entrance, but his hearing was acute; and it was dark, so the worry in his mind subsided as he entered his bottom. His warm hole was the only home he had now, squeezing his ass with tender pressure. Kilroy felt his cock getting squeezed tighter and tighter as he made progress, burning hot and slick inside. He was always surprised at the amount his bottom could take, even despite the size differences.

"Mm, maybe we could stay like this." Colborn remarked, lowering his head toward the ground, relieving pressure as he squeezed his ass around his thick cock. His own cock was throbbing hard, leaking like it always does.

Kilroy pulled his hips back, as his bottom rung out every micro-drop of pre-cum out of his dick, and pushed forward, feeling less resistance this time. His dark green hands dug into his ass, turning the skin a light hue of red, and he started digging out his bottom's insides with long, slow thrusts. Colborn's tiny mewls were cute to him, as cute as his smaller cock and balls were. He began to fixate on his ponytail, as it bounced around while his dark green and pink cock speared his asshole. Kilroy's balls began to rhythmically slap against his ass and taint, as he dived deep into his warm, slippery insides. The oil always made it so much easier, but he wasn't above tonguing enough saliva inside there to get the ball rolling.

Once his cock began effortlessly sliding in and out of his hole, Kilroy's hands began to wander. They traveled up the entire length of his smooth, toned back, running over his shoulders and briefly using them as leverage to plunge into his bottom, his girthy cock making itself a home. Colborn kept his hands on the ground for leverage, but as the assault on his ass began to tickle his special spot, he couldn't help but slowly allow his chest to rest against the cool stone cave floor. Kilroy's hands slipped off his shoulders, and one grabbed his ponytail in a firm, firm grip. The top Orc stayed balls deep inside of him for a moment, as he adjusted to the new form.

Kilroy's firm grip on his ponytail pulled Colborn close towards him, his entire backside and thighs resting against Kilroys. Their bodies shared warmth, and the pressure on Colborn's spot forced pre to openly drip out of his rock hard cock like a runny faucet. Kilroy kept his grip and this made Colborn taunt like a rope to his top's figure, allowing the top to simply begin pounding away at his hole. The sound of flesh filled the cave, and the smell of sex was strong.

Kilroy roasted his ass with a swift fucking, as hard and as fast as he could muster, Colborn practically had to whimper as he tried to keep it down. His hands were unnecessary now that Kilroy had him by the hair so one hand found his warrior's hips and the other began stroking his own aching cock, if only for a few moments of relief. The pre smeared on his hand and over the length of his lime green shaft, a line of liquid dripping into a small puddle below him.