Treasure

by Megan Derr

  Chapter Twenty: Treasure

  Raiden carefully laid Taka down on the sand, pulling off his own sash to make a pillow. He trailed his fingers over Taka's brow, his cheeks, the fine line of his nose, his lips, finally down to his throat. Only losing his brothers had been as painful as watching Taka die. Knowing he would come back had not helped the sick fear and agony that had torn through him.

  He'd only done what had to be done, but he wished there had been a better way. Raiden lightly traced the barely-visible scar across Taka's throat and leaned down to press a soft kiss to his pulse point, relief sweeping through him all over again to have such glaring proof that Taka lived.

  Not that he needed it. Raiden could feel every breath his Priest of Storms drew if he desired, but it was not quite the same as feeling the life beneath his lips. He drew back reluctantly, not wanting to take liberties that were no longer his right to take.

  Taka had made that agonizingly clear when he had torn off the necklace Raiden had given him and thrown it into the sea. He had added emphasis with the command that Raiden never touch him again. Not wanting to disobey, even if he could not help himself in his need for reassurance, Raiden withdrew and stood up.

  He stared out at the sea, swallowing around the lump in his throat that he could feel it all again in a way he had not been able for nine hundred years. The sea and the sky were his again, to sense in a thousand ways, to control, to care for and protect. He could feel the bands of chaos that guided life, struggled against the heavy, binding threads of order trying to confine them.

  Raiden banished the thoughts, refusing to be burdened by them for the present. There was time enough for it, now that the first and most crucial step had been achieved. He discarded his robes, pulled the scarf from his head, and raked a hand through his hair.

  Looking over his shoulder at Taka, still fast asleep and recovering from the ceremony, Raiden walked across the sand, waded into the surf, and dove smoothly into the deeper water. He swam and swam, until he could barely see land and the ocean was so deep ordinary eyes could not see down into the depths. He dove deeper, loosing his power as he did so, surrendering his human form for that of his dragon, long and sinuous, scales as dark blue as the depths of the sea or a midnight sky.

  He roared in the depths, making the world around him tremble and shake, swam and swam, moving in tight circles, twining in and around himself, rumbling as fish of all shapes and sizes came to him, joined him, and welcomed him back.

  Eventually, he settled on the ocean floor, sand rising up around him in enormous clouds only to slowly settle again. A long while later, the mermaids began to appear. Raiden growled, forbidding them to approach close enough to touch. Daughters, you have disappointed us. You were not meant to turn against your brothers of the sea, your siblings upon land.

  Father, father, they pleaded, huddled on their knees, clinging to each other, their silent sobs echoing through his mind. Let us make amends, then. We were angry for and because of you. We love you, father. Give us a chance to prove that in a way that pleases you.

  Raiden rumbled his agreement, and two mermaids broke from the rest to prostrate themselves closer to him. Shio and Shinju, he recognized. You have behaved better than the rest of your sisters. This is not your burden to take up

  We want to take it, Shio replied. Please allow us to redeem our sisters.

  Very well, Raiden said. Only three Vessels remain in the land of Pozhar. Find the last Vessel, protect him from those who would wrong him. Do this and all is forgiven.

  Yes, father. Shinju replied, and then the mermaids were allowed to approach him, cuddle against him, rest with him as they once had so very long ago.

  As content as he could be while his treasure still hated him, Raiden closed his eyes and, for the first time in nine centuries, enjoyed real rest.

  He woke some time later when he felt Taka's anxiety. Immediately stirring, Raiden bid the creatures piled around him farewell, slowly unwinding his coils and heading for the surface. He broke the surface with a roar, water cascading all around him and raced for the beach, shifting back to his human form as he reached shallow waters.

  Taka stared at him wide eyed, the robe he'd been holding slipping forgotten from his fingers. "Y-you were a dragon. Like Kyo."

  "I'm still a dragon," Raiden murmured, looking at him hungrily, unable not. Taka was beautiful, perfect in his eyes, and the fact that he was also the Eye only made him brighter, sharper, and more precious. Raiden wanted to touch him, hold him, but he was not stupid enough to try it. Instead, he bent and retrieved his robe, shaking the sand out before shrugging into it. "How are you feeling?"

  "Like I should have stopped drinking a lot sooner than I did, and my throat feels raw. Sensitive." He curled his fingers around his throat, visibly shivering. "Kyo slit my throat."

  "Yes, with Kin's help," Raiden said. "You were magnificent. I do not know of anyone else who could have endured that. Even Kyo could not, at the end, and needed help to finish it."

  Taka laughed shakily and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. "I never want to do that again."

  "You won't have to, my trea—" Raiden broke off and turned away. "You won't have to," he tried again. "You are the Eye of the Storm, my Priest of Storms. Once upon a time, only two people were a match for you in power. I doubt they will be replaced, though anything is possible."

  He thought Taka would ask who they had been, but only silence met his words. Raiden stifled a sigh and decided it would be best if he returned to the sea, maybe returned to Kundou and got his business back in order. The thought made him tired. He loved and thrived on being a merchant; his business suited him and what he needed to do, without causing a fuss or using his power overmuch.

  But he didn't want to do just that, anymore. Not the way he had for the last one hundred storming years. He had looked forward to not being lonely anymore, to having his brothers back—and he did have them, or at least new brothers who would mean as much to him. He had also hoped fervently to have once more a Priest of Storms, for after his brothers his Priest had been his best friend.

  He had looked forward to having that family again.

  Raiden had not counted on falling in love with his potential Priest of Storms, but the moment he had seen Taka ... And of course he had messed up. Again. How long would he have to go before he found someone else? Would he ever find anyone who actually remained by his side?

  He was beginning to doubt it, and doubt was something he had hoped never to feel again. He didn't like it. The dragons were restored, chaos was no longer almost completely dominated by order ... Yet, instead of triumphant, he just felt lonelier than ever.

  "So what happens now?" Taka asked.

  "Nothing," Raiden said. "At least, for us. Our part is done for the foreseeable future. It is up to the other countries to set right their own wrongs. We will wait and see what Pozhar chooses to do." He finally forced himself to look at Taka again, and it hurt as much as he had feared because they might as well have been an entire ocean apart. "Did you want to travel home by ship, or would you prefer I take you somewhere straightaway?"

  "You can do that?"

  Raiden smiled, laughing softly. "There is very little I cannot do now, Taka. Takara," he corrected. "I am certain you must be tired of sailing—tired of everything. I know you want nothing from me, but I can give you one of my homes until you decide what you want to do."

  Taka sighed softly. "What does one do when he can literally do or have anything? Why would anyone want the world? It leaves too many options."

  "You are certainly free to reject most of it," Raiden said, not quite able to keep all the bitterness from his voice. He had made mistakes, his entire existence seemed comprised of mistakes, but he was not completely awful. He had given Taka the world, would give him more, if Taka had not made it very clear that all he wanted was never to see Raiden again. "No different than a banquet, Taka. Admire everything before you, but eat only the bits that are of interest. If you do n
ot want me to take you somewhere, then I suggest you head back to the ships. Dark will be falling soon, and the island is treacherous enough for walking during the day."

  He started to head for the sea, reaching up to discard his robe again, when Taka's word drew him up short. "What if I already threw away what I wanted? There doesn't seem to be any way to get it back."

  Raiden's breath lodged in his throat, and he refused to hope because it would hurt too much if he was wrong. "If the gods can be brought back to life, Taka, I do not see why you cannot get back what you discarded."

  "I'm not so certain," Taka said quietly.

  Kneeling in the surf, Raiden extended a hand, casting out his power. Only moments later, a small sand-colored fish pushed a glittering object into his hand. Petting the fish in thanks, Raiden stood and turned, extending the discarded necklace of diamonds and saphir. "If you still want it, take it back. It was always there waiting for you, Taka."

  Taka looked at him then flushed and looked away. "I'm sorry."

  Raiden nearly wept with relief. "Treasure, you are not the one who should be sorry. As I said before, I am the one who is sorry: for the deception, for the very poor way I explained the ceremony. For ever letting you think, for even a moment, than your death would be an easy thing for me. For giving you any reason to think that I loved my power more than you. I don't. I can't deny that I am happy to be a god again, it is what I am and should always be, but I did not really live again until I saw you."

  "It was horrible, dying like that. The chaos, all that blood, then the pain—and I realize if something went wrong, and I didn't—that if I stayed dead, then I would die angry with everyone, angry with you. That you'd go on thinking I really did hate you. I didn't want to die that way. Then I did. I'm sorry for what I said. For what I did."

  Unable to bear the distance a moment longer, Raiden quickly closed it and swept Taka up, kissing him hard, the last of his own doubts and fears bleeding away as Taka's arms wrapped around his neck. "Do not be sorry, Treasure. Only say that you are willing to try being mine."

  "I am," Taka whispered, and then stepped back. "Are you going to put the necklace back?"

  "Does the tide rise and fall?" Raiden asked, smiling when Taka rolled his eyes. Slipping to stand behind him, Raiden drew the necklace up around his throat, the broken clasp easy to repair with a breath of magic. He turned Taka around, admired him. "Only the clothes hinder," he said.

  Taka shook his head, chuckling. "I don't understand why you take such offense to my wearing clothes when you take such delight in all the clothes you wear."

  "I have no problem removing mine right now," Raiden said. "Anyway, treasures are meant to admired. I cannot admire you properly if most of you is hidden away."

  "That makes no sense," Taka said, "and I have told you before, I am not one of your storming trinkets." But even as he repeated the playful complaint, he was stripping off his clothes, letting his robes and sash fall to the sand to be dragged into the sea by the rising tide. "You said you could take me anywhere—take me home. Your home. Where I can step outside and practically be swimming."

  Raiden made a low, rough noise of approval, discarding his own robe before he caught Taka up again and, with a booming crack of thunder, took them away from the desolate Sanhoshi.

  They reappeared on a small, remote island well off the coast of the main islands of Kundou; it was a sleepy little place, a half day's journey to the nearest village on the mainland of Typhoon. As promised, his house was built right on the edge of a low cliff, requiring no more than a step out the back door to dive into the water and swim.

  "Swimming can wait," he said, leading Taka away from the back door, through his living room, his study, and into the bedroom.

  Taka groaned upon seeing it. "Bed. I've missed a proper bed. I think I want to sleep for the rest of the year and then nap all of next year."

  Raiden laughed, caught him up, and dropped him on the bed. Taka joined his laughter, sitting up only to turn over and flop down on his stomach, rubbing himself on the soft bedding. "If I can stay in this bed, I'll wear all the jewels you want."

  "Here I thought I was promised a challenge," Raiden murmured, smirking. He climbed up on the bed, urged Taka to his hands and knees, and bent over him to trail hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses down the line of his spine. He sank his teeth into one cheek when he reached Taka's ass, chuckling when Taka jerked and pushed back into him, moaning.

  Licking the mark he'd just left, Raiden spread Taka's ass and slipped his tongue into his hole, relishing the rough noises that earned him, the curses and pleas as he fucked Taka with his tongue. When Taka was reduced to painting and gasping his name, Raiden withdrew, replacing tongue with fingers made slick with a thought, pushing two inside, one hand on Taka's hips guiding his movements as Taka fucked himself on Raiden's fingers. "Damn it, dragon!" Taka finally snarled.

  Huffing out a happy laugh, startled that Taka would call him that so easily, so suddenly, Raiden removed his fingers and lined up his cock, seating himself in one sure, hard thrust. Taka gasped and moaned into the sheets. After a moment, he turned his head, eyes glinting when he ordered, "Fuck me already."

  "Happy to," Raiden said, his relief that he was allowed to, would be for a very long time, the only thing greater than his lust. He fucked Taka hard, deep, fingers so tight on Taka's hips he would probably leave bruises.

  They didn't last long, too impatient to take their time, and there would be plenty of time for slow in the future. Raiden wrapped his hand around Taka's cock and stroked him off hard and fast, relishing the way Taka cried his name as he came, following almost immediately as Taka's body tightened around his cock. As his climax eased, Raiden pulled out and lay down next to Taka, pulling him close, relishing their mingled scents on Taka's skin. He closed his eyes to better savor it.

  "Your eyes glow," Taka said, lightly touching his face. Raiden opened his eyes and stared, and Taka's mouth quirked in amusement. "I don't know if you are doing it on purpose or not, but they definitely glow when you're ... not calm?"

  Raiden laughed. "Then they will be glowing a great deal because the very last thing I am around you is calm, my treasure."

  "I know you thrive on being obnoxiously vibrant, but if you want to continue to pass as merely a merchant, you should probably work harder at calm," Taka replied in amusement, though he looked decidedly flushed and pleased at Raiden's comments.

  "I'm a god of chaos and of storms," Raiden replied. "I don't do calm."

  "No, I suppose you don't," Taka replied and shifted to sprawl on top of him, kissing him softly before he sat up, straddling Raiden's waist. "So show me what a dragon can do, and then teach me to be this Priest of Storms that I apparently am now. I get the feeling I'm going to be little more than a divine secretary."

  Laughing again, Raiden drew him back down. "As I have said, you really are quite perfect, my treasure." He cut Taka's reply off with a kiss.

  Book 2: Burning Bright

  The Lost Gods will continue in Burning Bright

  In the land of Pozhar, the people fear the return of Zhar Ptitsa, the god of souls and rebirth who nearly destroyed them nine hundred years ago in a terrible rage. To prevent his rebirth, the people hunt down and sacrifice Vessels, those born with a piece of Zhar Ptitsa's soul within them.

  The Sacred Texts say that one thousand such Vessels will be born and all must be sacrificed to destroy Zhar Ptitsa once and for all. Now, only two pieces remain in the bodies of two thieves who will not go to the Flames without a fight.

  About the Author

  Megan is a long time resident of m/m fiction, and keeps herself busy reading, writing, and publishing it. She is often accused of fluff and nonsense. She loves to hear from readers, and can be found all around the internet.

  maderr.com

  maderr.livejournal.com

  lessthanthreepress.com

  @amasour