Enchanted Twelve 4

Enchanted Twelve 4

RedHairedandFriendly©

Author's Note:

The following is one of the many closing chapters to

Enchanted Twelve

– a chain story surrounding the life of the

Twelve Dancing Princesses

. It was started back in 2008, and sadly due to the trials of life, became placed on the back burner, the far back burner. I am happy to finally start tying the loose ends and if you have a chance to visit the forums of Lit. I encourage you to visit this Literotica Forum link: http://forum.literotica.com/showpost.php?p=39257564&postcount=869 – it will allow you a chance to refresh your memory of what transpired between the ladies of Westingfield and the men of Oarthland. Thank you and enjoy. ~ Red

Oarthland

Andrew battled an internal war with himself the further he moved from Danielle and Simon. He had no doubt that she would be safe in the other man's arms, and that is what bothered him the most, that and the fact that she would also be cumming and calling out his name, not Andrew's. But he knew that he had to finish what he'd started the night before. Angora's blood rested on the dry knife that was wrapped securely in the cloth attached to his belt. There was no turning back; he would see the task complete, or die trying.

When he reached the shore of the river, several yards downstream from where the Princesses met their Princes, he lifted a candle from his satchel and lit it. The light gleamed; yellow light filled the air around him. He then lit a second and a third; the three candles were a sign that someone on shore sought passage across the water. It did not take long before a long boat approached, and a smaller boat was lowered from its side. The men rowed to shore, and Andrew climbed in, tossing them a satchel full of gold, that would be found worthy in any world.

When he was onboard the larger vessel, the captain came forward and another bag of coins were handed over. "I seek the shore of Angora the witch of Oarthland."

The men around him grumbled, cursed and spit at the sound of the witch's name. The captain turned around and ordered his men to row and to do so with great haste. Andrew sat on a pile of rope, and waited for whatever fate would befall him.

~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~

Danielle gazed down at the man who rested between her thighs. His mouth had covered her with sweet kisses; his tongue had caressed the inner most recesses of her sex, and his fingers had toyed with the fleshy walls of her pussy and the puckered entrance of her ass. Yet, she could not picture who he was. She knew him, yet did not. Her mind was confused as images of another came into play – she searched her memory, just as the man who was pleasuring her flicked her clit with his tongue. "Oh, my sweet cherub of succulent honey," the man whispered, before rubbing his face back and forth on her exposed regions.

Her throat moaned softly, but her mind still refused to acknowledge more than the occasional spark of pleasure from the man's attentions. "I'm sorry, I just – I just -."

He lifted his head and stared at her. "What my delicate flowery bloom of sunshine?"

She giggled. "Andrew would never –." She paused, a look of confusion on her face.

"Andrew? Who is this Andrew?"

"I'm sorry, what is your name again?" Danielle asked her lover.

"What is wrong with you? Who is this Andrew?"

Danielle blinked away the shock in her eyes as she came to and recalled the man who was covered in her juices. "Simon, Andrew is our cobbler, he's my," her jaw dropped, and her face paled, "he's my – my – oh my God, Simon – he's my lover!"

Simon's eyes grew wide in their sockets. "You're lover?" he shouted, rose to his feet and wiped at his mouth, then spit the taste of her from his tongue. "You have a cobbler for a lover? I've had my cock in a whore's hole?"

Her eyes filled with tears; she reached out to him. "Simon, I just came to realize it – he was here last night. I felt him. It had to be him," she told herself. "He's here now, I'm sure of it."

"Then go to him," Simon demanded, and pushed her away when she tried to bring him back. "Danielle, you do not love me, nor I you. You came here every night, I poured words of poetry out to you, but in my heart I did not love you. I am not ignorant. I knew this," he spread his arms out; "this would not last."

She eyed him suspiciously. "You are not angry?"

"No, you are still a whore, but I can bed a whore who fucks those of her station, but not one that lowers herself to take a common cock."

"Whatever did I see in you?" she asked him.

Simon laughed. "Look around you Danielle, this is magic. You've craved this since the first moment you had a cock in you, you just didn't know it was what you wanted. You created your own dreams; the portal just brought you here. Orathland is full of magic, some can be explained, and some cannot. I find it much easier to enjoy the ride than to fight it."

"So, you never loved me?"

"I loved you, but not the kind you seem to desire from your cobbler."

Simon turned away, and left Danielle in the gardens. She gazed at his back, and then felt her stomach roll and pitch. If Andrew was here, then he knew about her and Simon and he knew that she was just what Simon had said she was a whore. She buried her head in her hands and cried, it took her several minutes to realize that if her lover from Westingfield was in Oarthland, then he was there to help her, and she had to do all she could to aid him in his quest, but where could she find him, and who could help her?

~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~

Andrew nodded his thanks to the captain and his men. They had delivered him just a short distance from Angora's castle. He breathed deep and tried not to vomit from the stench in the air. The night was dark, and the clouds thick around the land he had ventured onto. He walked into the woods, doing his best to stay in the shadows of the night, where he felt certain no one could see him from the boat; he pulled out the magic cloak and pulled it over himself. Sounds foreign to him, made his pulse race; he trekked forward, fully aware that nothing could interrupt his quest for the King and Queen of Westingfield, or all would be lost.

Several times during his walk through the forest, he thanked the Queen for the gift of invisibility. He had no doubt that without that gift he would not have survived the beasts that pressed close to his hidden figure. His scent was obvious to the animals, but the magic confused them. He closed the distance between him and fate.

~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~

Danielle wandered away from the castle and the dancing that she had always been drawn to. Once she realized the truth of her love for Andrew, and Simon's confession of magic, Danielle could see Oarthland in a whole new light. Her gaze fixated on small fireflies, but the more she studied their movements, the more she realized they were more than bugs, but they were people.

"Help me, if you can," she whispered. They fluttered about her, eventually settling on a tree. She walked over to it, and touched the bark. It felt warm, and then without any words being spoken, it opened, and Danielle walked through the offered portal.

On the other side of the portal, she came upon two beautiful women who were enjoying each other with the same passion she was sure she had shared with both Simon and Andrew. Her soft gasp upon seeing them embracing each other, made both women stop and stare. "Are you here to play with us?" the emerald green female asked. Danielle blushed, the question was asked with a seductive grin. "You remind me of our friend Merry."

"She is my sister; I am Danielle – the eldest Princess. I am seeking my one true love, Andrew. He is here, I know it. I can sense his presence."

"We have not seen anyone, but if you wish you can turn back the way you came, think about your lover and the path may lead you to him," the other female said.

Danielle thanked them, and returned to the tree. She thought of Andrew and stepped over the threshold and was transported again, this time emerging in a forest so thick and full of darkness that she feared she would fall victim to the beasts within them. Her fear was just, for just as she took a step a wolf leapt out, his fangs dripped with saliva. The sound of a sword being freed from its sheath was the only warning the wolf had before its head dropped free of its neck.

The Princess gasped as the skeleton figures appeared at her side. "A sister of our Merry."

"Scapulus, Radia?"

"Yes, my dear. What are you doing in these woods? It is not safe for you," Radia scolded. Scapulus cleaned his blade and returned it to its protective sheath.

"My love, Andrew is here. I feel it. He is trying to stop what is happening to my sisters and me. I believe in the magic again and that has given me insight into this world. I am finally seeing the magic before me and I know I can help him. I must."

"We can only take you to her gates, after that the journey is yours and your love's to finish," Scapulus told her.

"I will take whatever aid you can give."

"Take her, Scapulus – I will arrange a quick departure for her and her sisters in case they must flee quickly." Radia left in search of more of Oarthland's more kindly beasties. Scapulus helped Danielle onto the back of his steed and together they traveled toward the gates of Angora's keep.

~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~

Andrew watched a young man stop at the gates of the witch's castle. The small girl that served Angora approached the gate and opened it for the man. She lowered her gaze, and tried to make herself smaller than she was. When the man stepped in, the girl glanced around and closed the gate behind her, only she chose not to lower the lock. He stared at her back, curious as to why she had left Angora's home free to whoever may wish to wander into it. Andrew cursed low, and wondered if a trap had been set for him. He had to take the bait, and as he made his way across the threshold, he prayed the cloak still kept him hidden.

Each step brought him closer to the witch's door. When he reached it, he noticed the hard wooden plank had again been left unlocked. His throat constricted. Yes, there was no doubt, it was a trap, and for him to gain entrance, he would have to fall into it. Andrew went inside and waited for the man who had gone on before him to attack. When no attack came Andrew thanked the heavens of both worlds, and proceeded deeper into the keep.

A sound brought him up short; he stared at the figure that hugged the wall of the chamber he had entered. Eyes sought out what words could not ask. The servant girl reached out with her hands, and grunted low, the vibrations in her throat seemed to beg for some sort of answer. Andrew pulled a clean dagger from his boot, and held it skillfully. He knew the girl had every reason to hate Angora, could he count her as friend, or was she truly devoted to the witch. Andrew knew he needed help getting close to Angora, and to do that he had to trust one person, and who better than the girl who had suffered the most at the witch's hand.

With a quick flick of his fingers, and his wrist, Andrew dropped the cloak and the girl gasped; a high pitched wail poured out of her throat and echoed through the room. He rushed forward, the dagger went to her throat, and his hand covered her mouth. He stared into her eyes, and felt saddened by the fear etched there. "I'm sorry," he whispered, "but your mistress causes great distress to so many that I love. I seek help in destroying her."

The girl stared at him. Her gaze told him she understood his words, but her stature still stiff and rigid did not tell him she would aid him. So he held her closer, and whispered in her ear about the land of Westingfield, and the beauty that would be hers if she were to help him; he promised to care for her and to give her the life that she has long deserved. "Miss, I cannot do this alone. I am just a cobbler, but you, you are a trusted companion and I have the weapon to free you, I just do not have the means."

The girl glanced down at the hand that held the dagger, then back at Andrew. He lowered the weapon and released the hold he had on her mouth. "You are stronger than you realize," he told her. "Here," he said, pulling the wrapped dagger from his hip; he opened the cloth and showed her the weapon. "This is her blood, she only has to taste a flake of it and she will poison herself; her reign will be over and you – you can begin your own life, either here..." – her eyes grew wide – "Or with me in Oarthland. I have an apprentice I think you would find most pleasing."

He smiled softly at her blush. "I know it will be hard, but I saw how she treated you. You are not the fool she makes you out to be. Please, I have so many counting on me." He watched her step back and gather his cloak; she pressed it back to him, and took the dagger. Andrew watched her take the weapon and the cloth over to a table; she scrapped the flakes from the steel. They fell silently into a small bowl. The cloth, she folded and placed in the pocket of her apron. "I wish I knew your name," he said.

Her eyes lowered in sadness. She shrugged her shoulders and smiled softly. "In Westingfield we will learn it; you will not remain silent forever. The Queen cannot give you a tongue, but she can teach you to speak by other means." The girl's eyes lit up. Andrew put on the cloak and followed the servant from the room.

~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~

"I wish I could do more Princess," Scapulus said as he helped her down from his horse and gazed back at the castle. "You are brave," he told her, "and Radia will arrive with friends to guide you back to the boats, if you are unable to travel there on your own."

"Thank you Scapulus, may I ask though, why can you not go into battle with me?"

The skeleton frowned. "Do not think that I fear this fight, for if I could I would be there with you and I would slaughter the witch for the harm she brings to those I find most loyal, but this battle, this is one that was started many moons ago, and it is between your house and hers. We can only offer the simplest of aid."

Danielle smiled softly. "I understand and I appreciate all you have already done for me."

"I shall wait on the edge of the forest, until the battle is over."

A soft nod from Danielle was given before she stepped toward Angora's gates. Her hands trembled as she pressed them open, and hugged the shadows while she approached the closed door. Just as she reached for it, it opened and a man stared down at her. "Ah, my cousin Danielle, please come in. We had hoped the spell held and when the gates whispered to mother that a Princess had arrived, we both were discouraged and thought young Cecile had returned - her mission failed."

"My sister?"

"Yes, you see, we sent her on a special mission. Did you not notice she was not with you when you at the dance?"

Danielle studied the man before, and as dawning reached her eyes, his laughter rang out. "What have you done?" she screamed and turned to go. The man gripped her arm and held her against him.

"She's been sent to kill your mother and if all goes well, our worlds will be linked, my mother, your aunt will rule both worlds, and you will entertain me as I desire, all of you will." He kissed her neck, and ran his palm down her side, up to her left breast which he groped with his thick fingers.

She struggled against him, but that only added to his delight. "I do enjoy the spirit you possess." He pulled her along with him. "But before I claim your cunt as mine, I best let mother have a look at you." Danielle stumbled along; his fingers bruised her flesh. They reached the dining hall, and Angora laughed when she saw the eldest of her sister's children.

"My sweet Warren, look what you have brought me. It seems our plan is still in play and young Cecile still does our bidding."

"Yes mother, I thought to take sport with my cousin, but knew you would want to see her first."

Angora laughed. "I have no use for her. The weak child, the sightless one – she will do what we ask of her. The spell was spoken, it holds true," she glanced at Danielle, and then back at her son, "take her and use her as you desire, and feel free to make her scream, she resembles her mother too much for my liking."

Warren laughed as he wrapped his arm around Danielle's waist, pulled her to him and covered her mouth with his. She tried to twist her way free, but he still licked her face, and promised to tame her fiery core.

~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~

Andrew glanced at the servant girl and knew she was aware of where he was in the room. When he saw Danielle in Warren's grasp his heart skipped a beat. His fingers formed tight fists and he stepped closer to his captive Princess. His gaze shifted from Warren, then back to the girl. His pulse raced as he watched the girl take the bowl and carry it to a side table. Warren was too distracted to notice the small woman's actions. His mouth had moved to suck on Danielle's neck. Andrew growled low, the sound blended with Danielle's cry. He watched her breasts pop out of her gown; the material had torn easily from Warren's assault.

The cobbler gripped the blade and waited for the right time to spring into action. The goal to end Angora's life was no longer at the forefront of his mind. He hoped the young woman had enough anger in her heart to do the deed for him. He had to protect Danielle, and prayed that if the two of them failed, the Queen and King would one day forgive him.

"Marie!"

Andrew glanced at Angora. He pocketed the name away, thankful that one puzzle had been solved so easily. He only wished the others would fall into place.

"No!"

Danielle's scream made his heart lurch. Warren had thrown her to the ground; her skirts were raised and her pussy open for any and all to see.

"You smell of cum," Warren growled, "did you fuck one of the Princes before coming here? You are a filthy whore, but even a used cunt is a good cunt." He lay on top of her, anchoring her with his body while one hand worked to free his manhood.

Angora watched her son as he fought with her niece. Her breath quickened and her hand moved under the table. Her fingers dug at her own sex, and she urged her offspring to fuck the slut, until she bled. Marie sat a glass of wine next to her mistress, and stepped back. The cloth she'd folded was taken from her pocket and draped over Angora's plate, covering her food to keep the heat contained.

When Danielle screamed, Angora laughed, and took a long draw from her goblet. "Fuck the whore, fuck my sister's bitch!" the witch screamed. She coughed, and took another gulp of her drink.

Andrew could take no more. He saw Warren's cock leap free from his britches and he knew it would take but a second for him to plunge his dick into his Princess's pussy. He threw off his cloak and launched himself at Warren's back. The knife he held went deep between the man's shoulder blades. The cobbler twisted the blade, pulled it free and plunged it again. Warren cried out, as Andrew continued to stab him.

Angora screamed, knocked over her wine, and stared down at the cloth that covered her food. Red steam seemed to rise from the cloth. She coughed, and stared at her hand; red spittle covered her palm. She turned to Marie, who stood pale and shaking. Angora coughed again and a thick clot of blood flew from her lips. She spit another glob out, and advanced toward the girl. "You bitch," she hissed, before falling to her knees. Her stomach convulsed; acid from her stomach was expelled as well as more of her precious life. The floor was slow to absorb the crimson fluids. Marie stepped back, and gasped a sickly sound of fear.

Danielle shoved at the weight of her cousin's body. She scrambled free, when Andrew lifted the bloody corpse from her smaller frame. Her cries bounced off the walls and burned Andrew's heart. He tossed the knife away and gathered her against him. "It is over, Danielle; he's dead, and," Andrew moved so she could see Angora's convulsing body jerk less and less. Danielle covered her face, hiding it in his chest, as he cooed and spoke softly to her. Marie stared down at her Mistress. The blood pooled at her feet; Marie stepped away as Angora's body shuttered one last time.