Oliver lay in Draco's arms, both bare and exhausted. Draco kissed his head and shifted. He picked up Oliver in his arms, which caused him to laugh.
"What are you doing?" Oliver asked.
Draco held him close to his chest. "I'm going to help you clean."
He carried him to the bathroom and sat him on the counter while he filled the tub with warm water and a few oils. Oliver watched him, admiring his body as it flexed and bent. When the tub was filled, he came back to pick up Oliver,
"I can walk, you know." He said with a smirk.
Draco kissed him happily. "I know you can. But if you walk, then I can't hold you."
Oliver laughed and held out his arms so Draco could pick him up again. Draco grinned and held him close as he walked them over to the tub and carefully sat down with Oliver on his lap. He ran his hands over Oliver's skin, gently washing him.
Because of the magic and dragon heart, many of Oliver's old scars had faded and disappeared, leaving soft, smooth skin. Only the most grievous wounds remain, like the stab wounds, the cut on his back from Tomin, and the one over his heart.
Draco's bite mark remained as a scar on his shoulder. But Oliver truly didn't mind it, feeling the comfort of Draco's possessive nature every time he touched the raised skin of the scar.
Draco continued to run the water down Oliver's body, making sure to be careful of the new scratches and bites. He sighed lightly and brushed his fingers on the newly formed bruises on Oliver's hips, arms, and neck.
"I harmed you again." He said as he kissed his neck tenderly.
Oliver hummed and tilted his head to allow more access. "I'm not sure if you noticed, but I didn't mind."
Draco laughed and held him tighter. "Who would have thought that the nightmarish Guardian would be so adorable."
Oliver flinched. "Nightmarish? Wait—Adorable?" He turned his head so he could see Draco and narrowed his eyes. "Should I drag you out of this tub and fight you?"
Draco captured his chin and held him still so he could plant a kiss on him. "If you insist, I'll fight you as long as it does not involve clothes."
"Shameless dragon," Oliver said while holding back a smile.
"My fierce old Ghost."
Oliver finally laughed and leaned against his chest. "Why am I the nightmarish General?"
Draco smiled and started to wash Oliver's hair. "I suppose it's only something your opponents would understand. Before I entered the war, there were stories about you: the rising General. No one thought you could step into your uncle's shoes, but like a whisper, your name started to spread on the battlefield. When you were injured by the Sand Drake and lost your eye, we thought it would stunt your growth, but you only became more formidable. Injured soldiers would come home, and your presence would haunt their nightmares... General Kardos, the silver-haired demon who was always found on the frontlines."
"And what did you think?"
Draco sighed noncommittally. "I thought it was all hype... until I fought you. I discovered the difference between us almost immediately. You had been fighting for years on the battlefield while I was sulking in Rucrea. I was so far behind you in a skill that it was terrifying."
"In the end, you won more duels."
"Only because you pulled back your swords and created obvious openings," Draco argued.
Oliver closed his eyes as Draco rinsed his long hair. "I wonder what I will be in this life."
"You'll be many things. The savior of the continent and destroyer of tyrants."
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.
Intricately white carved pews lined the walls, leaving a wide aisle in the center. It led to a large altar at the end. The stone base of the altar was hollowed out and detailed with carvings of flying dragons. A dark flame flickered inside the hollowed portion, giving the altar a dim glow.
Behind it was large windows with pointed arches that overlooked the bluffs. The seeping moonlight painted the cathedral in light, making Oliver feel like he had stepped amongst the gods.
He had stepped into every place of worship from every kingdom except for Rucrea. This was simply breathtaking.
Draco slowly led him down the aisle, letting him soak in every detail around him.
"This place..." Oliver whispered, terrified to destroy the beauty of this place with his voice.
"I do not worship the gods, but these chambers have heard my desperate prayers before," Draco explained in the same hushed tone.
Oliver's hands brushed along every pew, relishing the details of each stroke of the knife.
"This is my sanctuary, the place I visited the most after I ripped apart my own throat in our last life." Draco sighed sullenly. "You can imagine my rage when the Ravagers invaded Rucrea and reduced this place to rubble. They burned the ebony trees, destroyed the marble, and extinguished the dragon flames below the altar. Those flames have been burning since before the Eternal Wars."
Oliver paled and gave the cathedral another sweeping look, memorizing its beauty. "We'll stop them this time."
Draco pulled Oliver into his arms and carefully kissed his lips. "We will," he said with his lips fluttering against Oliver's. "Come, let me show the altar."
He stepped back slightly and took Oliver's hand, walking him down to the large altar. It was another breathtaking scene as they approached it. Every carved detail was exquisite, and the dragons looked alive with the shadows cast from the flames.
The sounds of a sweeping broom pulled them away from the altar. An old Rucrean in a long black robe was hunched over a broom. His black hair was streaked with grey, and his red eyes had dulled a little. Deep wrinkles around his eyes crinkled when he smiled at the two of them.
"Such an honor to have our Kings visit," He said with a willow voice.
"Oliver, this is Mardon, the keeper of the temple. His brother tends to the Cenotaphs in the east." Draco introduce them. "He has been tending the temple since my grandfather's time."
Oliver bowed respectfully. "It is an honor. The temple is stunning."
"It is always more beautiful at night, so I am glad you came to visit at this time. I am happy to answer any questions you may have." Mardon said with a smile.
"I have many," Oliver answered with a laugh; his curiosity was brimming. "Who built this place?"
"The dragons of old. The palace was built around it. This place still holds magic, even when the great Anima sealed it. It's in the trees that hold the temple up. It's in the veins of the white marble. It's in the flames and ceremonial items of the altar. This is one of the last breaths of magic. Our most holy of places." Modron looked around the temple with pride in his eyes. "You two will be wed here."
Oliver glanced at Draco and found him wearing a warm smile at the thought. Oliver squeezed Draco's hand affectionately. "Can you tell me the rituals we will perform for our wedding?"
"I will officiate the ceremony and witness your oath of commitment to each other. Then will help you exchange branding marks."
Mardon uncovered a few items on the altar. One was a small crucible bowl used for smelting, while the other tools resembled branding irons.
"The Lyrells are a family of shifters, so the common jewelry used for marriage was not ideal because it couldn't endure a dragon transformation. So, we have adopted another practice. We smelt jewels in the fires of the ancient dragons, which you see below the altar. When the jewels turn to liquid, we use it like ink to brand ancient words to represent your commitment."
He took one of the branding irons and showed the design to Oliver. He could see a single line of words written in the same dragon language he saw on the cathedral doors. "What does it say?"
Draco leaned in next to his ear. "This one is special because it is for the royal family. It says 'My King. My beloved'."
Oliver leaned into Draco. "What jewels do we use to smelt?"
"Anything meaningful to you that you wish your spouse to bear. Many Rucreans would travel the world for the perfect jewel, while others would hand down jewels and gems as part of their inheritance." Mardon explained.
Draco held out his hand, and it shifted and turned dark. His flesh trembled and then hardened into black dragon scales. "I will use one of my dragon scales for yours."
He had recently just shifted but was already becoming adept at it. He could even do partial shifts, which hadn't been seen for over a thousand years.
Oliver's hand wrapped his hand around his necklace, the Kardos' shard of Anima's heart. "I know what I wish to use as well."
"Are you sure?" Draco was shocked as he noticed Oliver's grip.
"This necklace has accompanied for many years and has served its purpose. Besides, the heart that was once broken has already been made whole." Oliver said as he rested his hand above his heart. "Using it, for this reason, is the most fitting ending for it."
"So you both have your jewels?" Mardon asked with a wheezy chuckle.
"I guess we do. Does that mean we can wed tonight if we want?" Oliver said with a laugh, trying to contain his wild heartbeat.
His tone made it seem like he was joking, but his heart ached to marry Draco immediately. He had waited too long for Draco and thought he had lost any chance with him until they reunited in this life. He did not want to waste any more time.
"Did you want to?" Draco's voice low voice was full of wanting.
Mardon looked out the windows. "If you don't mind an old man's opinion, tonight is quite fitting. It's almost prophetic to have the Sword of Moonlight and the Dragon King marry in the Dragon Temple under the full moon."
He turned back and bowed low. "Your servant will happily officiate when you choose."
Draco unbuttoned the top of his shirt, and scales emerged, covering his chest. He used his shifted talons to pluck out a scale that sat above his heart. He handed the deep black scale to Mardon, who accepted it with another bow.
Oliver took off his necklace, but Draco took it in his hands before he could give it to Mardon. The white stone was long with the Kardos sigil embedded with silver on the top. Draco used his talons to break the white stone in half. He handed the broken piece to Marlon and placed the necklace with the now smaller stone back around Oliver's neck.
Mardon placed the white stone in the crucible bowl first, and they watched it bubble and melt into a pearl white ink.
"King Draconis Ladon Lyrell, the North Star and Dragon King. At this moment, you will be bonded to your husband and King. Will you declare your oath to soar through the heavens and hells with him in both life and death?"
"I declare it," Draco answered and placed his left hand on the altar.
Mardon took the branding iron and dipped it into the melted stone. With delicate precision, he placed the branding iron on the back of Draco's hand.
When he lifted it, a glowing white line of dragon runes decorated the back of Draco's hand. It started from the center of his wrist and then traveled down the middle of his hand, extending to the last knuckle of his middle finger.
He admired the back of his hand for a moment and then pulled Oliver to him, kissing him deeply.
Mardon coughed, breaking them apart. "Kings, I am not done yet."
Oliver laughed as he placed his hand on the altar next.
Mardon took the black scale and placed it in the crucible, which was surprisingly clean and no longer had traces of the white stone. The scale took longer to melt, but it finally melted into an iridescent black liquid.
"King Oliver Ciciel Kardos, the future Guardian of the Realms. At this moment, you will be bonded to your husband and King. Will you declare your oath to soar through the heavens and hells with him in both life and death?" Mardon repeated.
"I declare it," he said resolutely.
Mardon completed the same routine, dipped the iron in the black liquid, and placed it on the back of Oliver's hand.
However, there was no burning pain like he expected. The liquid was cool to the touch and gentle. It was like a caress.
When he lifted the iron, the beautiful runes decorated Oliver's hand in black ink. A part of Draco was forever with him now.
As he looked up from the mark, Draco nearly tackled him with a passionate kiss. His lips cut against Draco's fangs, but he reveled in the feeling.
Draco pulled away slightly, resting his forehead on Oliver's. "Husband," he murmured.
"Husband," Oliver repeated.
Even if he lost his name and titles, he would forever bear the mark as Draco's husband.
When they finally broke away from each other, they found themselves alone in the cathedral. Mardon left no trace of his presence.
Draco pulled at Oliver. "Come with me."
He brought him outside at the edge of the bluffs. He stripped off his cloak and handed it to Oliver. He clenched his jaw but forced his body to shift. Within moments, the familiar black dragon stood in front of Oliver. He unfurled his wings and released a loud roar.
He lowered his head to Oliver and nudged him, asking him to climb to his back. Oliver chuckled with a shake of his head but complied. Draco flapped his powerful wings when he felt secure and took off.
Together in the moonlit skies, they were free of their past wars and future worries.
Nearly a month passed in peace in Rucrea. Their marks were not something they could hide, so their marriage was quickly found out through the palace. Those of the council had already accepted Oliver as their second King. However, Draco ordered that this remained a secret so he could hold a celebration and crowning ceremony once the Kardoses were informed.
Oliver has spent all of his time with Draco. They both had the same drive to care for their kingdom. Immediately after their secret wedding, they focused on governing. Oliver took over managing the military affairs and defenses.
When they had the luxury to escape the piles of paperwork, they would walk down the streets of their cities. Draco's citizens were used to his presence and treated him as a regular noble so he could roam unhindered. He learned more about Rucrea in these few weeks than in his previous life. He was slowly uncovering their mysteries and fell in love with the kingdom.
At the end of the month, Draco and Oliver were walking around the barracks with Aris. They discussed the training regimen and battle tactics, reading to fight against the Ravagers once summer came.
As Aris discussed their current regime, Oliver turned his attention to the sky and held out his arm. There was a sound of flapping wings, and suddenly a large black raven landed on his extended arm. Oliver pulled a letter from its leg.
[The king is dead. Your item lies in the treasury.]
Oliver released a long exhale. Piers' tyranny was going to begin. However, there was hope that he could be rid of the chains that linked him to the Belelots... the old treaty was in the treasury.
His look was complicated as he quickly burned the letter.
Aris called over a servant and asked them to fetch a quill and paper. They were efficient, and it only took a couple of minutes. Oliver settled on a table next to the barracks and wrote a short reply.
[I'll return.]
Oliver sent the bird off, and he sighed. "You'll receive an invitation to Pier's ascension soon."
Draco ran a hand through his hair. "We should prepare."
They will soon have to return to the capital and face their enemies once more.