A Ghost's Wish [MxM]

41. A Brand

Oliver laughed. "Such lofty things."

Draco kissed his shoulder where his teeth marks remained. "The greatest warrior in this generation."

"That's difficult and boring."

Draco hummed. "Then what would you like to be? General again? Guardian?"

Oliver thought about it carefully. "I will resist Bierze out of duty and fulfill my mission to honor Anima and her sacrifice.  But why bother with something as fleeting as titles? I have gained so many titles, yet I died nameless. Instead, it would be good to live as an honorable son and a supportive brother... but most of all, I would like to be a good partner."

His face flushed a little, and he dropped his head a little out of embarrassment.

Draco gazed at the back of the man he loved and felt a real sense of pride in the man in his arms.

"Then, my King, we will live well together," Draco whispered.

Oliver hummed happily, at peace with this.

Draco helped Oliver out of the tub when the water was cold and dried him off with a towel before wrapping a robe around him.  He sat him on the bed and gently combed through his hair.

"Sometimes you're surprisingly gentle," Oliver murmured as Draco detangled some of the knots.

Draco chuckled and nipped his earlobe to tease him before he combed through Oliver's hair a few more times.  

As he started to add the complicated braids to Oliver's hair, he spoke quietly. "Dragons live for thousands of years but will only have one partner in their long lives.  If their partner dies, then they will not live a breath longer.  Rucreans are the stubborn offspring of dragons. Although we have inherited their obsessive and rash behaviors, we also inherited the dragon's devotion. We believe that we should protect and serve our lovers. This makes certain intimate actions considered sacred, such as tending to you."

Oliver remembered when Draco had first braided his hair and mentioned that only lovers would have this privilege. 

"It may sound strange that the offspring of dragons would place such importance on something so gentle, but we value it because it's a sign of vulnerability and trust. Only a lover can bring a dragon to his knees."

They helped each other dress, and as Oliver adjusted the furs on Draco's shoulder, Draco cupped his cheek. "I have something I want to show you."

He took his hand, and they left their chambers.

The palace was still in the middle of the night, and they were accompanied by the full moon reflecting off the snow-covered lands. Their footsteps were the only sounds in the lonely palace halls. It was peaceful, as if the night wanted to embrace the two lovers.

They passed a few guards who saluted them in a hurry, but then they turned down a less-treaded hallway. Draco led him to two large doors carved from the ebony woods. Old runes of a forgotten language lined them. Oliver reached out and ran his fingers over the deeply etched lines.

"What is this?"

"The language of dragons before the time of man," Draco answered and pulled a door open. 

He led Oliver inside, who had to stop and marvel at his surroundings. They entered a massive cathedral. The floors and walls were carved from white marble, reminding Oliver of the frozen tundras. Instead of columns to hold up the ceiling, towering ebony trees stood as support. They were black as obsidian and greatly contrasted against the white. Their wild roots pierced into the marble while their branches stretched across the vaulted ceilings like vines. Dancing dragons were painted between the branches, giving viewers a glimpse of the world of magic before the Eternal Wars.