• Surrender


    The White Queen collapsed down to her knees, panting for air. Her body was wracked all over with pain and it felt stiff. Her long creamy white hair was plastered to her face from sweat and matted down with blood. Her armor chaffed and weighed her down, more so now as she fought hard to keep from fainting from fatigue. She licked her dry, chapped lips, tasting sweat and metal. She had to keep fighting, but it was hard as she was fighting with her own body to keep it moving.

    The sounds of battle continued on still, the clashing of weapons, the clanking of armor and the stench of the slain permeated the battlefield. She looked to the side and saw her knights still fighting to get to her, but it was a losing battle. Her pawns had all been obliterated and all her other soldiers had been killed or were running. Battle cries and screams of pain filled the air. She didn't want to know who the ones crying out in pain were, but she had a good guess whose side it came from. They were losing, though perhaps they had already lost. She was the last line of defense for the White King, but her crown, a symbol of loyalty to her king, had just been shattered to pieces around her, by her greatest enemy no less. She had been defeated.

    The Black King stood over her with that all-knowing and cocky smirk on his handsome dark face. She hated it. She hated him. She hated all that he was and all that he had done. Why couldn't he just keel over and die?

    "So White Queen, it seems that our long battle is coming to an end," his smirk grew larger as he swung his blue crystalline sword around to face its pointy tip at her, "I will soon be the victor."

    She scowled and he chuckled at her show of defiance. Her face showed all that she felt towards the man: hatred, scorn, anger and humiliation. He could practically taste the latter emotion in his mouth and laughed out loud.

    "Hate me for all that you are, White Queen, but it will only be a matter of minutes before your White King falls and with it, your kingdom shall be mine."

    She was seething, wishing she had the strength to tear that sword away from him and shoving it down his throat…but she had no strength. The battle with him had taken its toll on her. She was tired and had no more energy left to fight. She could not protect her king.

    BOOM!

    She turned immediately to look behind her, where the noise had come from, and her eyes widened in terror. Their castle was falling! Her king! Her king was still inside!

    "My king!" she screamed, getting up to run, but the edge of the Black King's sword stopped her before she could take a step forward.

    "Your king is now dead, White Queen," spoke the Black King, "my people have seen to it. A life for a life, your king for my queen. Looks like I win."

    She felt her eyes water and a few tears escaped, trickling down her cheek. This was the end. Her head fell; hands fisted at her sides and teeth clenched to prevent her from screaming. She squeezed her eyes shut as the tears continued to fall. Her body trembled in sorrow and defeat. They had truly lost.

    She heard the dreaded Black King sheathed his sword and walk around her to stand before her. She knew that stupid smirk of his was still on there with those golden eyes of his, staring down at her with mirth and playfulness. She opened her eyes to glare at him. Sure enough, he was doing all of that.

    One of his gloved hands rose to her chin, forcing her to look up at him. She tried to turn away, but he held her still. His smirk disappeared as he stared at her, as if contemplating something.

    "Your king has fallen, your soldiers killed and your land, of which is now mine, in disarray. Tell me, oh once great White Queen, what will you do now?" he asked her mockingly.

    Her eyes narrowed at him, tears no longer falling, "I will follow my king."

    A dark eyebrow rose, "Oh?"

    She scowled again at him, "Kill me now, Black King. End this miserable battle between us already."

    "Tsk tsk tsk, dear Queen. You should not scowl, it does not suit that lovely face of yours," he smirked playfully at her.

    She tore her face away from his grip and he let her, letting his hand fall to his side.

    "I suppose I could kill you. It would indeed show your people that one should not dare to go against the Black King. Your king is dead. It would only be fitting that his best soldier and protector go with him…"

    She looked away from him and wiped away her now dried tears. Why couldn't he just kill her already?

    "That would indeed solve a few of my problems… yet there is another problem in which I must deal with."

    She turned to look at him, confusion and caution filling her face. An eyebrow rose again and the corner of his lips lifted. She really wanted to wipe that stupid smirk off of his face.

    His hands went behind his back and he paced back and forth before her, all the while looking at her, "It would seem that in this war, I have lost many soldiers, many of who can and will be replaced. However, a key figure of this war had been lost to me. I had, at my side, a great soldier who just so happened to have died at your own hands."

    "Speak already, I have killed many of your soldiers!" she snarled.

    He let out a laugh at her bluntness. She frowned. Truly, she abhorred the man.

    "Very well then, I shall tell you," he said and stood right in front of her, way too close for comfort, "I am in need of a queen."

    A queen? She had killed his queen earlier. It wasn't much of a fight, but she was a good fighter nonetheless.

    "I killed your queen," she told him.

    He stepped back a bit and nodded "Yes, I know. I was a bit disappointed that her battle with you didn't last quite as long, but I supposed that's my fault for not pushing her as hard as I should have. However, that is not the point. My queen has perished in battle and her position is now vacant. Who, do you think, has enough great strength and great beauty to fill that seat, I wonder?"

    He turned to look at her and she had an inkling of who was referring to, though she did not wish it to be.

    "I do hope you are not referring to your mortal enemy, Black King," she hissed.

    He threw his head back and laughed, "Of course I'm talking about you, White Queen!"

    She frowned, "You have many consorts. They are both beautiful and ready to lay their life on the line for you. Why not them?"

    Suddenly he was standing too close, their chests were touching and his gloved hand had now cupped her dirt smudged cheek, rubbing it, "Because they are not like you, beautiful White Queen."

    She scowled and he smirked.

    "A queen's duty is to protect her king and defend her land. Now what other queen do I know who does a good job of both?" he murmured to her.

    "As much as I grieve to say it, I have failed in the protection of my king," she growled, tears once again threatening to spill, "let me die."

    He had taken many things from her, now he was going to deny her the honor of dying alongside her lost king and her dead countrymen. If he took her on to be his queen, her people would sadly follow the Black King, knowing fully well that the humiliation of their defeat would be evident everyday when they would see their former great queen standing beside the Black King. The dishonor and humiliation of doing so would be too great.

    "My dear queen, I cannot," he spoke softly to her and slid his hand down to raise her chin up to face him, "for if I do, I cannot guarantee the lives of your soldiers."

    Her mind stopped. Her soldiers!

    "You must let them go!" she pleaded with a choke.

    "Dearest White Queen, I will not… but if you would accept my proposal of becoming my queen, I will allow them the chance to live to see their families again… but only at your word."

    His face was serious, stern and threatening all at once. He meant it. He would kill every one of them without mercy. Her soldiers would die, never to return to their families or live out the rest of their lives. Suddenly her long, seemingly eternal battle with the Black King seemed foolish all at once. Why had she placed so many lives into this war?

    She felt her tears fall and closed her eyes. The Black King's hand moved away and she let her head fall. She was no better than the Black King who had murdered so many. Her people had looked up to her as their symbol of strength and protection and she had let them down. Many had died, and all for what? All for the glory of defeating the Black King, but he had turned the tides of battle in his favor and defeated her. If she died, so would her soldiers. Who knew how many of them had families whom they had to care for or how many died with families who would no longer see them? Her people had to live, even if they had to live with the humiliation of defeat for the rest of their lives… but they would live. She would have to surrender herself entirely to the Black King.

    "I accept," she mumbled too low for the Black King to hear.

    "Hmm? What was that?" he asked, hand once again at her cheek.

    She hated having him touch her. Despite how handsome he was, he was disgusting to her, disgusting and horrid.

    "I accept," she choked out louder.

    "What's that? I don't believe I heard that," he said, playfulness in his voice.

    She opened her eyes and glared at him. I hate you.

    "I accept!" she hissed loudly, "I will be your queen!"

    He blinked, and then smirked with the look of victory plastered all over his face.

    A low amused chuckle came from his throat as he leaned his face down to hers, warming her face with his breath. His hand went to her chin to tilt her head up to face him.

    "Well then, shall we go home… my Black Queen?"

    His face descended and she surrendered.