Burning Chains

Chapter 6

Morgott was a little frightened that Mohg still hadn’t returned. Of course this was just like him, always running head first into something dangerous. It just had to be the Frenzied Flame. Mohg’s first crush just had to the god that was prophesied to end the world. Of course, why wouldn’t it be. Morgott loved Mohg like any older brother would, but that didn’t mean he didn’t realize his younger twin was absolutely insane. There was a limit to how far most would go for ambition, but Mohg had never seemed to have one. He’d cut off his own hand if he thought it would gain him an inch of ground. Developing feelings for a god of madness was high on the list of stupid dangerous things Mohg had done, but somehow it didn’t top it. Morgott feared for his brother constantly. There was only so much longer he could get away with flaunting the law of the world before divine punishment rained down upon him. Maybe today was it. Maybe this would be the thing that finally killed him.

He perked up when he heard snatches of conversation from within the Frenzied Flame’s prison. Then Mohg walked through the door carrying the god in his arms.

“Mohg, are you alright?!”

“I’m fine.”

“I’m fine too Morgott, thanks for asking.” Gareth looked up at his brother. “You can put me down, you know.”

“You said you were in pain.” Mohg huffed stubbornly. “You should be resting after such an injury.”

“Are you sure you’re not just making up excuses to hold me?” Gareth smiled, reaching up to touch his face.

“Perhaps.” Mohg leaned towards him.

Seeing Mohg like this was a little disconcerting. Morgott was reasonably sure that he hadn’t been enchanted, but he was acting… silly. Mohg acted dangerously yes, but never silly. Morgott coughed loudly and Mohg withdrew, putting the god down.

“One second.”

Gareth retreated back the way they came. The omen twins heard a loud crash and then he returned dragging a hunk of stone with the impression of fingerprints melted into its surface. He strained for a moment before hefting it with two hands, still just barely able to hold up the massive thing as a makeshift shield.

“Better than nothing,” he wheezed.

“Not if you break your back.” Morgott chided.

“I kind of need it for the next part though.”

“And that is?” Mohg asked.

In lieu of an answer, Garreth ran full tilt into the wall. Instead of bouncing off, he crashed through the stone leaving a roughly human sized hole. Then he backed out, covered in dust, and ran full tilt in the same direction, a second crash resounding through the underground tomb. The two omens heard him begin coughing like he had swallowed a fist full of sand.

“Passage is clear!” He called. “Morgott, come take a look at this!”

Morgott looked questioningly at Mohg. His younger brother only smiled and pushed him forward. Quite reassuring. Gareth, still coated in a thin layer of dust waved him over.

“Get a load of that.”

Morgott wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at at first. There was a shallow lake of clear blue water and golden fireflies flew through the air like sparks. Strange leafless trees twisted across the ruins of a town, trailing off into the distance where they connected to… the base of an enormous trunk that extended through the cave ceiling far above their heads. Those weren’t trees, they were roots, roots that faintly glowed gold, even this far away from the bows. They had come out at the very roots of the Erdtree. Morgott staggered. He shouldn’t be in such a sacred place, his presence defiled it.

“Beautiful isn’t it?”

The god of flame leaned against the half collapsed wall as Mohg stepped through the hole.

“I figured out of the three of us, you deserved to be able to see this the most.”

“I don’t-“

“You do deserve it.” Mohg cut him off sharply.

“I heard you, you know.” Gareth interjected. “All those years you spent praying to the Erdtree, I heard you. You’re owed this much at least after all those years of your prayers going unanswered.”

The god touched his arm and Morgott flinched. He quickly drew his hand back.

“Living isn’t a sin. Neither is loving something that cannot love you back. It’s a kind of madness for sure, but I can’t exactly judge you for that.”

“You are far closer to sane than I imagined you would be.”

“I’m not going to ignore the fact that you’re trying to blow us off, but yeah, Gareth was actually fairly stable for a human in the situation he was in. The mental fortitude I inherited from him is the only thing keeping me from just burning this place to the ground.”

“You want to?” Morgott stepped back.

“Only half heartedly. I hate what the Erdtree represents: the flexibility of life and death overturned for unending and unchanging summer, life made miserable by stagnation, the chaos of change shackled beneath the earth, but that’s not really the tree’s fault. It’s an older symbol, one that has served as the standard for empires before Marika and will likely serve again for empires after.”

His flaming gaze followed the trunk as it extended up through the cave ceiling.

“Burning the tree now wouldn’t do anything, other than destroying this place, and I’m not so much of an asshole that I’d do that just to do it. I have a lot of work ahead of me if I want to actually change anything instead of just causing pointless destruction. Though I won’t pretend destruction for destruction’s sake doesn’t have merits.” When Morgott looked at him fearfully, Gareth shrugged and clarified, “it’s fun.”

“It is,” Mohg agreed.

“You’re both insane,” Morgott grumbled.

“And you’re free and at the base of the Erdtree. Clearly the both of us being insane is working out well for you.” Mohg snapped back, though it seemed more out of habit than anything.

His brother was just barely holding up his cold, calculating facade. Despite his ruined hand, despite their uncertain future, Morgott could see that Mohg was fighting to keep a smile off of his face. For the first time he could remember, Mohg seemed joyful, not smug or satisfied, but sincerely and intensely happy. It just made Morgott feel how jumbled his own feelings on the matter were all the more acutely. Suddenly he felt very much alone.

“I- I think I may need some time to think. Do not follow me!” He began to climb down the roots and towards the ground.

“Morgott!” Mohg called. When his brother ignored him he turned towards Gareth. “Honestly!” The god just shrugged.

“If he needs time he needs time. It’s a lot for him to take in.”

Gareth blinked habitually and then hissed in pain as his eyelids burnt.

“Shit, ow. I mean it’s a lot for me to take in and half of me actually knew what the hell was going on. I can’t imagine everything has set in yet for you either.”

“It hasn’t,” Mohg admitted, “but why rush. I’ll have plenty of time to consider how to go about building an army and what it means that I’ve fallen in love with a mad god later. I might as well enjoy the present while I can.”

“You- you really love me?”

“I feel strangely uninhibited when I’m around you. You make me want to trust you, even though I know you are dangerous.”

“Not to you.” Gareth kissed his hand.

“Even so, that’s what love is isn’t it? To offer someone your back and trust them not plunge a knife into it?”

“It’s a little more than that, my prince.” Gareth replied, trailing kisses down to Mohg’s elbow. “It’s another kind of madness. It can change you into something you no longer recognize, make you forget everything that once mattered to you.”

Mohg laughed.

“Are you sure you aren’t just telling me what it has done to you?”

“Maybe.” Gareth smiled, pressing Mohg’s wrist against his cheek. “I wish I could offer you something, some sort of indication of my promise to you.”

Mohg’s breath hitched as he watched Gareth press his lips to the thin skin on the inside of his wrist, just over the artery that pulsed underneath. It put an idea into his head.

“I would offer something of myself in turn if you are willing.”

Now it was Gareth’s turn to laugh.

“Neither of us have anything to give.”

“I’m going to see if I can maybe talk some sense into my brother. Would you try to find some clothes and then meet me in that building over there in an hour?” Mohg pointed to the ruins of a church.

“Alright. Be careful.”

When Mohg found Morgott again, he sat at the hollowed out stump of another giant tree. He barely acknowledged Mohg as he sat down next to him, only the twitch of his tail telling him Morgott knew he was there. They sat in silence for a long while before Morgott finally spoke.

“There used to be another tree here.” He said quietly.

“It looks that way, yes.” Mohg replied.

“Mohg,”

“Yes Morgott,”

“What do you suppose it means?”

“Life comes from the Erdtree right?”

Mohg pulled his knees up to his chest.

“There was still life before mother became the God Queen. We know that another god came before her. Maybe this was the tree before hers.”

“Do you think there will be a tree in a world where the frenzied flame is God King?”

The question didn't have the bite of sarcasm, instead there was a vulnerable waver to Morgott’s voice.

“I don’t expect you to be party to any more blasphemy than you already have. You ought to find something you truly wish to do.”

“But I don’t know what I wish to do. You were always the one who acted, all I know how to do is react.” His tail twitched nervously. “Perhaps if I allow you to determine my path I will find something I wish to do myself.”

“I willingly place myself in the path of our mother’s wrath. If you are not absolutely sure that is what you want to do I will not allow you to follow me.”

“Am I not already in defiance of her will?”

“And I will not have you whip your own back for my sake rather than hers. What do you personally gain from following me?”

“Maybe the tree that you and him will grow will accept my prayers.” He laid his hand against the hollowed out stump. “That would be enough for me.”

“I suppose that’s as good a reason as any.” Mohg sighed. “I still wish you would consider yourself more.”

“What about you?” Morgott’s eyes slid to Mohg’s left hand.

“It might be difficult for you to understand, but this was something I wanted.” He lifted his clawed hand. “You know how difficult it was for me to make people see me as a man. I will gladly trade being seen as a monster for being seen as a princess.”

“‘Tis one finger, you can’t exactly call yourself a monster for that.”

Mohg remained silent in response.

“It’s going to be more than just the finger then, isn’t it.”

“I was shown a vision of the man I will become and I liked what I saw.” Mohg said with finality. “I will become something frightening, but that is what I wish to be.”

“I have accepted your insanity thus far, I suppose.”

The two of them sat in silence for a moment staring at the hollow trunk.

“I think this may be one of the first times we have ever had a truly private conversation.” Mohg finally said.

“Your betrothed isn’t listening?”

“I sent him to go find some clothes.”

“Down here?”

“He didn’t object, so I assume he knows something we don’t.”

“I still do not understand what happened between the two of you.”

“In what regard?”

“You were always the pragmatic one between us. I did not think you were one to so quickly profess your love, nor do I think your pride would allow you to profess it falsely.”

“Well, you’re the only other person my own age I’ve ever met. Maybe I am an utter fool when it comes to love, we just have no way of knowing.”

“I certainly hope not. It’s already unsettling enough to see you act this way with one person.”

“You think he’ll allow me to take additional lovers?” Mohg found he rather liked the idea of that.

“I meant in the case that you had to call off your engagement!” Morgott reddened. “Pull your mind from the gutter!”

“Well you at least, are just as much of a prude as I believed you to be.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that.” He crossed his arms.

“Perhaps you’ll become an idiot once you find someone you like as well.”

“Perhaps. I never gave much thought to it before.” Mohg could sense what hung unspoken.

“You will find someone who will love you. If someone could come to love me, there will be someone who can love you.”

“I hope so.”

“There will be.” Mohg insisted.

They talked for a little while longer before Mohg went to meet Gareth at the church. Not about anything in particular, just inane nonsense, but that in and of itself was an unfamiliar luxury. Usually if the two of them spoke for too long they would be yelled at by the guards to quiet down, unless, ironically, they were arguing. Mohg knew why of course, it had been to keep them from colluding. They would be less likely to work together to escape if they actively disliked each other. Regrettably, they’d both began to fall for it. It was easy to come to dislike a brother with views and an approach to life so different from their own. Mohg became tired of Morgott’s acquiescence, Morgott became tired of Mohg’s defiance, both thought their lives would be so much easier if only the other agreed with their point of view. It was fertile ground for resentment. Talking to Morgott though, really talking to him, without the interruptions or the need for secrecy, Mohg started to feel that resentment lessening. It was more obvious Morgott had feelings and doubts of his own, beyond what had been prescribed to him by the order. It was harder to resent his brother the person than it was to resent his brother the parrot.

Gareth had found himself a shockingly fine set of clothes. He wore a fine brown shirt with wide sleeves, covered in well made scale armor. A long, white silk cape fell from his shoulders.

“Where on earth did you find this?” Mohg asked, feeling the unfamiliar fabric between his fingertips.

“The eternal city of Nokron,” Gareth said, as if stealing clothes from a lost civilization was like going to market. “It’s just a coffin ride away from here,” he added as if that somehow clarified anything.

“I think I would like to see you in more fine clothes.”

“I think they would suit you better,” Gareth grinned, looking intensely at him with those mad pinpricks of flame. Mohg was not rattled.

“Before I promise anything to you I would like to have a discussion regarding our expectations of each other.”

“Have I done something wrong?” The god asked.

“No! Of course not. It is more that, different people are likely to have different expectations for what their relationship with their spouse should be, and I want to ensure we are aligned.”

“You make this sound like it’s a political deal.”

“I am a prince. No matter who it was I decided to share my life with it would always be political. If for example I was wed to a man I did not love and he in turn had other lovers, we might agree during this conversation that our union would only be political.”

Gareth looked like he was attempting to swallow a whole lemon at that.

“Though, I don’t think that is the kind of relationship you would want,” Mohg looked down at his feet nervously.“Nor would I, but it’s still best we lay out what we expect from each other.” When Gareth didn’t jump in right away, Mohg continued, “I will not be made a caged bird. I will participate in the process of governance and keep the company of others should I wish.”

“Of course. I couldn’t ask you to tie yourself down the minute you gained your freedom. It wouldn’t be fair.” Gareth thought for a moment. “If I’m ever required to produce an heir, I won’t be able to do it. If you want to have a child, I’d be happy to support you in that and act as the child’s father, but having one myself would make me miserable.”

“It’s good that you’re considering things so far in the future.”

“I’m glad that’s how you see it.” He said, a doleful tone entering his voice.

Mohg’s brow furrowed.

“You never said what you attempted to burn before you were arrested.”

“Yeah I guess I didn’t.”

He took a deep breath.

“The home of my previous fiancé. He was an older man, would’ve expected from me the same as he would have an older woman even though he saw me as a girl. It’s an uncommon occurrence but not unheard of when the older one is more powerful locally. I think he’s dead. Arson is tried more harshly in my village than murder because of how bad it could be if the mills exploded so it wouldn’t have changed my sentence if I killed him. If he’s not I guess I’ll just have to finish the job at some point. I wouldn’t want to enter a partnership with any loose ends still hanging.”

“You know, if you’d prefer our relationship to be purely romantic I would not be opposed.”

“I’m comfortable with more than romantic. I want more than romantic. I just don’t want anything besides a mouth or fingers anywhere near my cunt.”

Mohg’s eyes went wide at the word and Gareth snorted.

“I also refuse to give up using foul language. What about you, should I hold off on carving myself a cock?”

“For you to what?”

“I made one out of wood to use with my previous partners. It’s not perfect, but it makes me feel a little better.”

That was shockingly normal. Still, Mohg considered it, would he be alright with someone inside him? He only had experience with his own fingers.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I would be willing to try it. Is that something you require in a relationship?”

“Not really. It’s not like I can feel it or anything. It’s really just for the other person.”

“Is there anything that you would require of me?”

“When you ‘keep the company of others’ I’d like the option to join you, provided your partner agrees."

He paused long and hard.

“There’s going to be some days when I’m in a lot of pain. I probably won’t be able to do much when it hits so, when I have bad days, can I trust you to protect me?” His eyes darted to the ground and then back to Mohg.

“Of course. That is the role of a lord, to protect the god they love.”

Both found they could not meet the other's eyes after Mohg finished due to their embarrassment.

“So you said you wanted to make an exchange.” Gareth said, staring at his feet.

“Yes, though feel free to say no if the idea disgusts you.”

“Well now I’m curious.” Gareth smirked.

“A marriage is the unity of two bloodlines correct? I want to share my blood with you, let our lives be connected both in vow and in flesh.”

The god of flame shivered.

“I see why the blood star chose you. You and her think alike in a lot of ways. Sure, I’ll do it. How do you want to go about it?”

“Would you allow me to drink your blood and would you drink mine in turn?”

“I’d always heard that some gods liked blood offerings. You know, it was the kind of thing your mother’s priests would try to scare us with in church.”

He took Mohg’s hand, turning it over so that his wrist faced up.

“Want to see if it’s true?” Gareth asked, a loose smile playing at the edges of his lips.

“You are a terrible tease.”

Mohg yanked Gareth’s arm towards him.

“Remember, you are expected to make an offering to me as well.”

Gareth didn’t even flinch.

“Don’t be offended, but I’m going to have to keep my eyes open.”

Before Mohg could ask why, Gareth kissed him. He was just as clumsy as he had been the first time, but Mohg couldn’t help feeling a rush of excitement. It was real this time! He couldn’t convince himself that it was a dream when he felt the warmth of Gareth’s body against his own and the heat of his eyes on his skin.

“I remember.”

Gareth pulled back again.

“You first.”

He held out his hand. Mohg pressed his clawed middle finger against Garreth’s palm drawing a bead of blood. He looked from the god’s hand to his face.

“No, together.”

He drew his finger across the god’s palm and then slit his own palm open. Blood flame smoldered at the edges of the wound as he held out his hand.

“I want us to do this together.”

Gareth gingerly took Mohg’s hand and brought it to his mouth while Mohg did the same. The omen lingered on the sight of Gareth’s blood, like the juice of a ripe rowa berry, seeping from the wound and trailing down the lines of his palm. Then, he parted his lips and pressed his mouth to the wound.

It could have been because a lifetime of almost nothing but gruel had significantly lowered his standards, but Gareth’s blood was better than anything he could have imagined. The taste filled his mouth, rich and smoky, like liquid flame.

Gareth closed his eyes as he drank, not minding how much his eyelids hurt in the face of how good Mohg’s blood tasted. Gareth had reference for what good food tasted like, but still nothing he had ever eaten or drank could compare. The part of him that had always been a god distantly understood that anything offered with love would always taste better to him than something offered with begrudging necessity. The part of him that was once human was too consumed in the hedonistic pleasure of it to fully process that idea. All he cared about in that moment was chasing the taste of him.

When the two of them pulled apart, faces red stained and sticky, it was with a bit of regret. Mohg pressed his wounded hand against Gareth’s interlacing their fingers.

“Your blood is mine and my blood is yours,” Mohg solemnly pronounced. “With this, may you always remember your promise to me.”

He hoped that sounded official, though he felt somehow that the exchange of blood had made it almost more, an almost spiritual promise.

“How could I ever forget.”

The god gave him a red stained smile.