Dynasty of Blood and Flame

Summary

A Tarnished convinces Mohg to return his beloved Miquella to the Haligtree with the promise that another suitable empyrean wants to have him as his consort.
It was dark. Pitch dark. Darker than Mohg could see in despite years of living in caves and sewers. The yellow light in the darkness beckoned him forward like a siren song, promising him power, promising him children, everything he had strove for. But Miquella… “Come on, darling, no need to keep me waiting.”

Chapter 1

“I’ve had enough dicking around for the night, Mohg, return the young man to his sister.” The tarnished folded his arms. The temperature was rising under his helmet. Not yet. Remember what she taught you. Center yourself.

“Miquella is mine and mine alone. He is the key to the foundation of our coming dynasty.” Mohg growled.

“Yes yes, you’ve said that the last five times I’ve come to bargain, however, answer me this, and I do think this is a fair question. Does it have to be Miquella? I mean on top of it being bad optics, even if he is mentally grown up and all, does it really have to be him or can it be any empyrean? Because I mean, and do forgive my rudeness, the lad doesn’t seem all that responsive at the moment.” The Tarnished gestured at the slack hand that fell from the cocoon. “He really isn’t in any state to form a dynasty with you.”

“He’s, he’s merely resting. When he comes to he’ll be perfect, shaped into the god he was meant to be and I shall take my place by his side as consort.”

“Once again, I hate to break it to you, but he did have a plan in place before you got to him. I’ve been up to the haligtree myself. It’s been dying without him there. I’d hate to see how he’d react knowing all that work was pissed away.” Mohg swallowed a little uneasily. That was a fairly sizable cocoon the empyrean occupied. “Once again does it have to be him. Could it be another Empyrean?” He put as much influence as he could into the words. He didn’t like trying to manipulate him like this, but he had to break Mohg free just a little, just long enough for the obsession to slip.

“Well I suppose…”

“Speak up for me will you?”

“I love him more than anyone else in the world. But, if he would come to detest me for what I’ve done and wished to discard me, I suppose it could be someone else willing and compatible. but neither Ranni nor Malenia…” he cleared his throat. The Tarnished understood what he was getting at.

“Wasn’t talking about either of them. There’s another one.”

“A fourth empyrean?”

“Yes, and I come as his representative to extend a hand to join your two houses. How does that sound?”

“He knows of me and what I am and still wishes to take me as consort?” The tarnished gave him a once over. Twisted horns obliterated one eye, wings hid beneath the ceremonial robes, his fangs were perhaps four inches each, but the lord of blood still had undeniable grace. Or perhaps the Tarnished was just fucked in the head. He reckoned it was probably the latter.

“Yes, he would still have you. What do you say we bring this cocoon back, and pretend nothing tampered with it if Miquella comes knocking, and I introduce you to your secret admirer.”

“Wouldst thou swear upon thine own life that thou art not deceiving me?”

“I’m tarnished, my life is cheap.” He thought for a moment. “How’s this, I swear upon my death. If I’m lying you can do what you will with me. You can torment me however you want, hell you can even use me as a feeding source for your god over there, but I promise I will never allow death to release me. Even If you do kill me accidentally, not that I think you will, mind you, you have fantastic surgeons aiding you, I will return to you to accept the remainder of my punishment.” The Demigod considered this for a moment.

“Very well, Tarnished. But know this, if thou art indeed untruthful,” The Lord of Blood bared his teeth in a cruel grin, “I have need of somewhere to incubate bloodflies for my knights.”

The Tarnished’s helmet began to fill with smoke. Come on. Easy. Easy. “I look forward to it.”

“Ah the champion returns. I take it you held up your end of the bargain?” Malenia lounged in her chair at the roots of the Haligtree. The Tarnished had promised Mohg no harm would come to him, once again on pain of life rather than death. Despite that, his fellow Demi-god looked at him with obvious disgust. He bent one knee, having never formally been introduced.

“I am Mohg Lord of blood, luminary of-“

“I know who you are.” She cut him off. “Consider yourself lucky that this mad Tarnished asked that I spare your life. Otherwise I would cut you down where you stand for what you did to myself and my brother.”

“I only wished to elevate-“

“Shut up. Tarnished?”

“Mohg, I thank you for your assistance in bringing this cocoon back but I ask as your ally that you hold your tongue for the time being.” He was tightly drawn like a tendon about to snap. Malenia no longer sat back in her chair. She leaned forward, poised to reattach the prosthetic arm that lay on the ground. Mohg nodded silently and stepped back. “Thank you.”

“And you will fulfill the favor I asked in exchange for this miserable one’s life?”

“It shall be done.”

“Good. Even if it takes you a lifetime, so long as it is done your debt to me shall be expunged.

“I doubt it will take me that long.” Mohg noticed the base of the tree was riddled with scorch marks. Funny, he didn’t remember those being there. “Will he be alright once he’s returned to the tree?”

“It sprouted from his own blood. It is an extension of his flesh. I have no doubt that it will restore him properly, provided there are no more interruptions.” She glared pointedly at her half brother.

“He will be kept busy with his duties as a consort.” Malenia glanced back and forth between Mohg and the Tarnished.

“You certainly are a strange one.”

The Tarnished flipped her off and she laughed. Mohg could not think of a single person who had ever treated her so casually without losing a hand or at least their pride. Malenia rose from her chair, took the cocoon in her arm and placed it back within the Haligtree. The bark knitted itself back over the spot where it was torn free and the leaves slowly began to change color from rusty orange back to yellow.

“If you require my aid again in your training, let me know.”

“I’ll return if I need it, but I think I’ve got things under control for the moment.”

“How is the head?” The Tarnished knocked on the side of his helmet.

“Haven’t needed a new one of these yet.”

“That’s good to hear. Now If we’re finished catching up, could you kindly remove that man from my sight before I tear off his horns and use them as decorations.” She pointed at Mohg as she sat back down. “I need to wait for my brother to reawaken.”

“Thou seemed rather casual with lady Malenia.” They pressed through the silk threads that began to coat the Haligtree after Miquella’s return.

“Perhaps”

“Does thy master permit you to act this way in his presence?”

“The Empyrean is not my master. I’m nobody’s servant.”

“Then why send thee as his envoy?”

“I’ve got a good sense of his taste.”

“Hm” Mohg growled low in his throat. “Remember your oath to me, Tarnished.”

“I remember, no need to threaten me.” They reached a courtyard in the canopy of the tree. A statue of the twins consoling each other stood at one end. The Tarnished knelt before something Mohg couldn’t see, perhaps the once lost grace others of his kind harped on about. “To see him I will have to take you to a place you might find difficult to revisit.”

“The sewers then.” Mohg wasn’t one for beating around the bush. That made some degree of sense. An Omen chained as he once was would think little of his horns and claws, although it was strange to think one might be chosen as an empyrean.

“Yes.”

“Quite a walk from here.”

“Not the way I travel.” The Tarnished grabbed Mohg’s arm. Before he could berate him for his impudence, the scenery around them faded as if consumed by golden fog. Then the fog lifted and they were inside the underground Cathedral of the Forsaken.

Mohg remembered this place. He and his brother had prayed here day in and day out begging for something, anything to release them from their prison. Morgott’s self hatred had always held him back. He only ever asked the Erdtree or their mother Marika for guidance, looking for recognition from those who would never love him. Mohg abandoned that hope early. He scoured the deepest recesses of space and mind for anything that would commune with him. Then She found him. She gave his curse grand purpose, nurtured the fire that boiled in his blood, instilled in him a lust for power. It was fitting that it would be here that Mohg’s ambitions would finally be fulfilled, even if it was not by the hand of his dearest Miquella.

The Tarnished poked the wall behind the altar with his spear and it slowly lowered. The Tarnished’s featureless helm turned towards Mohg and he nodded towards the new door. He was a little shocked. All the time he’d spent down here and he’d never noticed the secret passage. Fate truly was cruel to have veiled his eyes to the one empyrean who desired him before he met Miquella and became so infatuated. The Tarnished gestured for Mohg to go first and he ducked inside.

Inside there were so many dead. All of them held their clenched hands over their eyes. Each corpse was dry, desiccated. The whole thing was unsettling, their deaths were too clean, no blood, no viscera. Just bubbling of the skin around the eyes. The frenzied flame. “Tarnished…”

“Cold feet? He won’t judge you if that’s the case.”

“No, no merely, is he still in his right mind, this empyrean?”

“Are you?” The Tarnished sounded closer than he should be as if he was right behind him rather than a few feet away. “Communion with the outer gods breaks everyone in some way. He is not so broken as to intentionally harm you or to be unable to exist in a political setting. He can still make you a king and will still give you a dynasty if you so desire.” Mohg looked out at the chasm. “Last chance to back out,” the Tarnished offered. He opened his wings.

“No, I have waited quite long enough. I trust thou canst make it to the bottom thyself?” He jumped off letting himself glide to the bottom.

“Fucking show off,” The Tarnished muttered affectionately. He surrendered himself to the flow of grace and felt himself reappear at the base of the chasm. Mohg softly touched down next to him.

“A shame. I was looking forward to watching thee dash thyself upon the stones a few times. A bit of blood would liven up this tomb.” Mohg looked around seeing only the burnt door that supposedly sealed the three fingers. “Where is he? This hole thou hast brought me to is deserted.”

“This way.” The Tarnished beckoned for him to approach the door. Mohg knew what supposedly lay behind and hesitated. “Look.” The Tarnished took Mohg’s hand in his and pressed it against the door. “Do you feel anything?” The Tarnished’s hand was warm, like sunlight the first time Mohg felt it on his skin. The half melted metal door was cold.

“No I do not.”

“Come on then,” it sounded as if the Tarnished spoke into his ear even though Mohg knew that couldn’t be possible. He was too short. “Open the door for me.” He pushed the door open but there was nothing there but darkness. No three fingers lying in wait to burn him to death but no empyrean either. He turned towards the Tarnished in rage but he was no longer behind him.

“Remember thy oath to me Tarnished! You swore to me thy death in exchange!” Mohg felt stupid. Stupid and impotent. Why did he believe that a Tarnished would honor his vow in the first place? Now he was alone. Miquella was gone and he had nothing to show for it.

“I haven’t broken our oath yet.” Mohg froze. It sounded like the voice had come from right next to him “I needed you to see. You wouldn’t have believed it if you didn’t see.” The voice of the Tarnished now called from the darkness. “That’s why I brought you here. Think, darling, the three fingers are no longer here. The frenzied flame has been inherited.” He heard a clatter echo through the tunnels. That had to be it. It was the echoes making the Tarnished sound like he was in so many places at once. “Try again, love.” The words were whispered but Mohg heard them as clearly as if they were his own thoughts. “Look, I can do your voice too.” He heard his own raspy growl echo in his head. A dim yellow light shone in the darkness. “Come to me, I can give you what you so desperately need.” Mohg took a tentative step forward and the doors shut behind him.

It was dark. Pitch dark. Darker than Mohg could see in despite years of living in caves and sewers. The yellow light in the darkness beckoned him forward like a siren song, promising him power, promising him children, everything he had strove for. But Miquella…

“Come on, darling, no need to keep me waiting.” Mohg drew closer and the yellow light increased in size until it was a little larger than a human head. Now that he was closer he saw the yellow flame ringed a dark center, like a solar eclipse or a great eye. He felt something insisting at the back of his mind that he should kneel. Mohg allowed his knees to buckle. He fell to the cold stone floor. A warm hand caressed the side of his face. “Good boy.” The hand slipped away. “You know, I knew from the moment I first saw you that I wanted you to be mine.” Mohg felt the flames lick near his skin. He felt the prickling sensation of the hair on his right cheek burning. “You probably don’t remember, but we first met in the cathedral up there. I was just a bandit, a Tarnished of no renown, I wouldn’t expect you to.”

“I came to the cathedral to reminisce after hearing of happened to Morgott. There was someone already there,” a man clad in leather armor with long black hair. He carried a dagger and a rapier. He remembered him. He was the first person Mohg remembered who had looked upon him with true awe. Worship untinged with fear. “I remember being surprised, he bore the weapons of a bloody finger but I did not know his face.”

“Reduvia and the Bloody Helice,” He practically purred, “they served me well for a time. But I doubt you would consider a god who used the weapons of another to be worthy of you. Of course nothing about me would’ve been worthy of you back then. The moment you disappeared after the battle I fell into a state, thinking I’d never be able to find you again, and then I heard the music. You heard it too didn’t you? The song nomadic merchants sometimes play?”

Mohg did not, not over the sound of his own chanting, the desperate pained whispers of his brother.

“No I didn’t.” He heard a laugh ring through the hollows of his skull.

“Then I suppose I truly was chosen for this. I followed the music to the wall and broke it open. The first few times I did fall to my death. I don’t know if you’ve ever felt death before, not true death of course, just the temporary kind.”

“Omens are barred from the Erdtree upon death. I have never experienced death, nor would it ever be temporary for me.”

“Probably for the best. It’s excruciating. It never happens right away either. You feel every single sensation as your life slips away. I remember once lying on the ground out there after my ribs punctured my lungs during the impact. I drowned in my own blood that time. I think that may have been the worst death I’ve ever died.” A hand ghosted across Mohg’s own ribs. The demigod shivered.

“Is there a reason you wished to tell me this?”

“Not really. I’m just using it for the purpose of illustration. I did have a reason for it after all. To keep jumping and destroying myself over and over again.” Mohg’s horns were grabbed and his head was wrenched up from its bowed position. He was forced to look directly into the flame. “I wanted you desperately, and the voice of the flame told me it could give you to me.”

Mohg stared down the empyrean with his single eye. “You do not have me yet, Tarnished.”

“No I do not.” He pressed his flaming head against Mohg’s. Mohg hissed in pain and tried to pull away, but the Tarnished held fast. “Please bear it, love, this will only take a moment.” Mohg felt himself slip from consciousness.

This was a waste of his time. He ought to be strategizing with Okina or learning more about the blades that he brought with him, so perfect for bloodletting, but instead he was having a diplomatic meeting with a child. Well he claimed to be a grown man but he certainly looked like a child.

“I’m glad you agreed to meet with me today, brother.” The young empyrean sipped tea across from him. Mohg had to hunch to look him in the eye.

“Dispense with the pleasantries. We both know that if the situation were different you would not regard me as your brother.” He’d lived in those sewers all those years and no one came for him. Only now that he and Morgott had power did the other demigods deign to pay them any mind. It made him sick.

“I understand your rage brother. My sister and I also suffered greatly at the hands of the Golden Order.” No he did not! He had no power to! So his magic couldn’t cure his and Malenia’s curses, so what? Mohg’s very existence was considered blasphemy. He did not wish to be “cured” either. He had seen what passed as cures for his kind. What could this child, born as a prodigy coddled for his whole life, understand about his rage? “So I’ve come to extend the hand of the Haligtree in friendship.” He offered Mohg a branch budding with sickly pink blossoms. If Miquella wanted to be taken seriously as an adult he ought not to give such childish gifts. Mohg took it regardless. Malenia was a force to be reckoned with. It would be better for his seedling empire to have the twins’ backing rather than their ire. His plan to become lord did require an empyrean to work after all and maybe once Miquella broke his curse-

He felt a sharp pain in his finger. The branch had thorns, he hadn’t expected that. His blood dripped beautifully down its length. Perhaps the young man really did understand him in some way. He looked back at Miquella to thank him and was suddenly overcome by his beauty. He could not imagine leaving his side. He would devote himself to his god for all eternity. Mohg would be his and he would do anything to raise him to power. He knelt before the god taking his hand in his.

“My lord, everything of mine shall be yours from this day forward. I pledge to you my heart, my soul, and my flesh should you feel that it is fit to use.” He did not notice in the moment for he was so overcome but now as the fog was lifted from his mind, in his memory he heard Miquella mutter something to himself.

“Hm, the dosage may have been a bit too high.”

Mohg woke in a warm bed. The room he was in was unfamiliar. It was lit by yellow torches and a roaring fireplace. There were alcoves carved into the stone walls decorated with prism stones arranged in constellation patterns. A way to mimic windows showing the night sky underground. The bedding he rested in was soft and well made but bore a few scorch marks. He brought a hand up to his forehead where the tarnished had pressed his face against his own. There wasn’t even a scar. If it weren’t for the fog that had lifted from his mind he would’ve thought the whole thing to be a dream.

“Good! You’re awake!” He heard the voice of the Tarnished as if it was right next to him but the man was nowhere to be seen. The Tarnished walked through the door a moment later carrying a plate of crab legs and some water. He brought it before Mohg. He was keeping his helmet on now. “To keep your strength up. I healed the burn but you’ll still need food and water or you’ll feel terrible for the next few days.”

“How are you doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Speaking directly inside my mind?” The Tarnished removed his helmet. The yellow flame still hovered over the stump of his neck.

“I have no mouth anymore. The only way I may speak is by relaying my thoughts directly. If it is uncomfortable to you, I can make it sound like my voice is coming to you from further away.” Midway through the sentence his voice shifted and it sounded like it was coming from the end of the bed as it should. The Tarnished shifted from foot to foot clearly nervous.

“It is alright. I shall merely have to get used to it.” He took a sip of water. “How did you know about” Mohg thumbed the scar on the side of his index finger. The remnant of where the thorn had pierced him.

“This?” The Tarnished pulled a thorned branch with sickly pink blossoms from his pack. Mohg recoiled and the Tarnished quickly returned it to his pack. “Sir Gideon taught me the recipe after I told him I’d been to your palace. ‘The Empyrean Miquella is loved by many people. Indeed, he has learned very well how to compel such affection’” He read from a slip of paper bearing an eye symbol. “Not difficult to put two and two together, no matter how cryptic the old bastard thinks he’s being.”

“And my men didn’t notice how strange I was acting.”

“They did. Varre was too loyal to say anything. He believed blind servitude was the highest form of devotion. Okina and Eleanora were too busy dodging Yura and any Inaba that managed to make it into the Lands Between. Juno was busy trying to make sure his brother didn't get himself killed. The nobles thought that your plan would lead to your ascension no matter how deranged it had become.”

“So then I keep poor company.”

“Not to be disrespectful to my future husband, but aside from maybe Okina, Eleanora, and Juno, yes.”

“You still seem to consider my acquiescence a forgone conclusion.”

“Well I’ve gotten you to see me as an equal already.”

“And how did you come to that conclusion, Tarnished?”

“Well you’ve started using ‘you’ instead of ‘thou’ for one.” Mohg had hoped the Tarnished wouldn’t notice. Or at least not recognize the significance. He scrambled to defend himself but the Tarnished merely laughed warmly. “Although I would like it if you would call me by my name if we are to be wed. I did introduce myself several times.” Mohg racked his brain. The past few years were still a little foggy, but now that the Tarnished had burned it away, “I am Gareth, the bloody spear, and I ask that you return the empyrean Miquella to Malenia.”

“Gareth, your name is Gareth.” The room suddenly grew warmer.

“Sorry, that- that made me incredibly happy is all. Malenia has been helping me learn to control the flame but it is slow going. How she’s kept the rot contained for so long is beyond me.”

“Did she know? What was it that you swore to her?” Mohg leapt up, suddenly on the defensive. That’s right, he was close to Malenia. Did that mean Gareth planned to use him too? Were they conspiring against him?

“I don’t believe she did, no.” He remained seated calmly on the edge of the bed. “I owe her a debt merely for keeping you alive. She is hot tempered but not cruel. If she knew the reason why you had become so obsessed I doubt she would be so harsh.”

“And what do you owe her for my life?”

“I must raze the Lake of Rot. Until no trace of the god it shelters remains.” The flames of Gareth’s head flickered. “It seems she does not entirely trust her brother either and wishes for a more permanent solution to her curse of rot.” Mohg was familiar with the place. That would be an extreme undertaking.

“And you are prepared to do this? It seems like an impossible task.”

“Ah, my darling, you are still thinking about this in terms of what is possible for a man. I hold in my hands the power of a god.” He casually tossed a ball of flame from hand to hand.” Think what you would be capable of if rather than merely communing with the Formless Mother, you were her and she was you. She offered you many gifts, that is true. She taught you how to take power from your blood and gave you a means of channeling hers. However if you were united you would need no such gifts. All her power would be hers because you would be her. The flame is me and I am the flame. I am the one who drives men to madness, I am the one that burned the Erdtree to cinders, I am the insane ambition that entered the hearts of men when they saw the first embers burning. But, I am also the one who will bring equality to the lands between, and I am also the one who fell deeply in love with you at first sight.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” regardless of his disbelief Mohg was flustered. He couldn’t let himself hope.

“It’s not,” he sounded frustrated. “You know what, may I show you something? I will have to alter your perception so I want your permission.”

“How?”

“To see me as I was, so that you may better understand how I feel now.” Gareth held a warm hand over Mohg’s one eye. “Please.” Mohg covered Gareth’s hand with his own.

“You may.” Gareth removed the hand. His head was no longer an impenetrable ball of flame. Instead he looked at Mohg with brown eyes and long black hair. His skin was slightly pockmarked and he had a mole on the left side of his nose. His eyes still smoldered with the intensity of the maddening flame, but they looked at Mohg softly. Gareth reached out for Mohg’s hand. He allowed him to take it.

“It’s not flattery. I wish more than anything to be your husband and the father of your children. It would be my greatest pleasure and greatest honor to take you as my king consort.” Mohg scanned his face for deception but found nothing but sincere devotion.

“I will take your proposal into consideration.” Garreth leapt from the edge of the bed.

“Then I will make it as appealing a proposal as possible.” He really did not have any political experience did he. He could’ve been doing it on purpose to try and get Mohg to trust him, but he allowed all the excitement he felt to show plainly in his expression. Perhaps it was a good thing his true face was a ball of flame. It would serve him better as a god than the too-honest countenance he once had as a human. “May I kiss you?”

“The face you speak to me with is false is it not? I thought you did not have a mouth?”

“I don’t, not a real one anyway, but I can make you feel like I do. Not emotionally of course, I would never try to manipulate you in that way. But I can compel or negate physical sensation.” Mohg felt lips brush his hand but Gareth did not move. “That way I can ensure there will be no pain even if you were to touch me.”

“Gareth” the name was still new on Mohg’s tongue, “you would be a fool to think that I would want our couplings to be entirely painless.” He wound his hands through Gareth’s long hair and pulled him closer. He felt the tingling of healing magic coating his hand. The empyrean let the illusion fall. Mohg’s hand was buried in the flames. His skin burnt away exposing the muscle but was just as quickly replaced with a fresh layer by Gareth’s magic.

“Tell me if it becomes too much.”

“Go on, do it.” It started as a prickle like when Mohg had been on the surface out in the sun for too long, then the pain began to intensify as he felt the flesh melt and the nerve endings die and be restructured by magic. He gritted his teeth. Without the aid of magic he probably would not survive a wound like that. “I imagine I know what death feels like now.”

“I can stop.”

“No, don’t. Let me feel what was denied to me.” Mohg bent down, lowering himself to Gareth’s face. “You may kiss me now.” The flames surged forth and he felt phantom lips meet his exposed fangs. He opened his mouth for the tongues of flame and he felt the sensation of an eager tongue searching for his own. The pain was excruciating. The sensitive insides of his mouth and his face burned. He lost sight occasionally as his eye melted and reformed. He grabbed the empyrean’s back and dug his claws into his flesh.

“Do you need a break?” Gareth pulled back and Mohg’s face healed as if nothing had happened.

“No, please don’t stop.” Mohg clawed at his back.

“What do you need?” Gareth loved seeing him like this. He was so beautiful when he was desperate. He felt blood begin to drip down his back and brought a hand to the trail, allowing some to pool on his fingers. He brought the hand to Mohg’s mouth. “Is it this?” Mohg held Gareth’s wrist.

“No, not yet.” There was something there. Some intimacy Mohg attributed to the act that Gareth would have to press him on later.

“Well then what is it you need, my darling.” He pressed a burning kiss to Mohg’s hand. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

Mohg was clearly struggling with himself. His pride prevented him from speaking. It only made Gareth want to make him beg more. He wanted to consume Mohg’s every thought like Miquella once did, but he would not take him by force. That would be no victory, no true expression of love. No, he would wait for Mohg to abandon his pride and allow Gareth to possess him completely.

“Please burn me more.”

“And where would you like to be burned, darling? Here?” Phantom hands held Mohg’s in theirs, “Perhaps here?” The sensation of more hands felt up Mohg’s arms. “Or here?” More sets of kneaded his broad chest. “Maybe even here?” They wrapped around his thighs, tickling the sensitive skin on the inside. “Or perhaps?” A hand cupped his nethers from over his clothes. Mohg shivered and a small moan leaked out. He was unused to a single hand touching him with affection, let alone having the sensation of several people exploring him at once and knowing all of that adoration came from a single man. He could feel his knees getting weak and sat back on the bed to avoid the embarrassment of letting the empyrean know he’d almost been brought to his knees by his attention. He would not allow himself to be outdone. The empyrean wanted to make him his did he? He would show him that he would not so easily be dominated. He began undoing the gold chains of his vestments. He removed the red sash and gold pauldron and began undoing the buttons of his cassock. Mohg watched the empyrean’s flame carefully trying to glean emotion from the flickers and surges. He undid the last few buttons and slipped it off.

Mohg’s body underneath the priestly garb was muscular and dotted with horns like many of the others of his kind. However his role as a high priest had kept him leaner than the omens Gareth had encountered on his journey. In a few places his horns curled in on themselves digging into the flesh. One dug into his ample chest. His entrance leaked onto the sheets, wet from the attention. Mohg stared at Gareth, challenging him. He expected him to back away upon seeing him. To call him disgusting and finally end this charade. What he didn’t expect was for a kind hand to touch one of the many places where his horns bit into his body.

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes, but not more than it would hurt to remove them.”

“May I try something?”

“You will not attempt to remove the horns?”

“No. I swear upon my death.” He held the end of the horn in his hand and twisted, breaking off the end. Mohg shouted in pain and surprise. The empyrean shushed him and poured his magic into the horn. As it began to grow back he guided the tip away from Mohg’s body. Gareth then placed his hand over the gaping hole in Mohg’s side and sealed it with magic. “See all better, and I didn’t remove the horn as promised.” Mohg breathed heavily, still recovering from the shock of having it torn off. The empyrean moved a hand to his head grasping the horn that pierced his eye. “Although honestly I’m more worried about this one. It could pierce your brain if it gets any longer. After all the trouble I went through to free you as well. He ripped off the end and guided it away from the socket as he healed. Sight returned to Mohg’s left side. The sudden restoration of depth perception was disorienting. “Just a few more, yes?” Mohg didn’t speak but he nodded. As much of a shock as it was to have the horns ripped off he could not deny the relief he felt at having them removed from his body. After all, the empyrean did restore them afterwards. This man brought him to the brink of death so casually but yet always recovered him. Mohg finally began to understand why Marika was so fervently worshipped despite her cruelty. “There, all done.” A pile of bloodied horns lay on the floor. Gareth lifted his bloody hand up to his face and let the fire burn it away. Mohg felt his face redden.

Garreth had found that when he burned something, if he focused hard enough on it he could taste it. The memory of the flame told him it was possible when he began to crave the taste of meat again. He found himself curious. What would Mohg’s blood taste like? He focused on the red liquid coating his fingers as he burned it away. It was absolutely delicious. Garreth didn’t remember the taste of blood being this good when he was a human. Perhaps it was the flame influencing the tastes of its host. Perhaps it was just because it was Mohg’s blood he was consuming that made it taste so good. Regardless, he scoured the blood from his arm burning it off. He then turned to Mohg’s body gently burning off the blood that remained surrounding his wounds. Mohg shivered under his ministration.

“Apologies.” Mohg could hear a tinge of desperation behind it. “I was overcome. I’ve never tasted anything so good before.” To drink blood from one’s enemy was customary for Mohg and his knights. They hungered for the life sheltered within, the feeling of consuming another’s life so directly, so explicitly. However for a knight to offer another their own blood was an expression of the highest form of intimacy. To share blood with another was to share one’s own life force, to mingle the very essences of the two partners. Mohg slashed open his palm with his clawed middle finger. The empyrean edged closer enticed by the scent.

“Not just yet. You must offer yourself to me in turn.” The empyrean shucked off his own leather garments and removed a throwing knife from his pocket. He drew the blade across his chest opening a sizable gash. Blood flowed viscously from the wound covering his front.

“I offer myself to you freely.” Gareth sat himself in Mohg’s lap and latched onto his hand. Mohg felt phantom lips press themselves onto the wound and a tongue lave over it as the blood was burned away. He brought his mouth to the empyrean’s chest and licked. It was like nothing he had ever tasted. His blood sang of life and the power of the flame. It was intoxicating. He bit into the Empyrean’s chest searching for more. He heard the man moan as he tongued over the new wound. The man had seen him naked and had only been concerned with his pain, and his blood tasted of power and future children. Perhaps this ridiculous man was truly worthy of him. There was only one more question. He wrenched himself from the empyrean’s chest.

“Garreth upon seeing me naked, was I what you expected.” The empyrean pulled himself from Mohg’s hand healing the wound as he did.

“In what way? I was surprised you could conduct yourself so well while you were in that much pain I suppose.”

“I mean my chest and my entrance. Were you not disturbed?”

“That would be hypocritical.” Mohg looked at the Empyrean’s erect cock and then back up at his face. “When I inherited the flame I asked Queen Rennala to alter me so that I could better utilize its gifts. I also asked her to alter my body to make it more suitable for me, giving me this,” He gestured to the appendage, “and removing my breasts. I could ask her to do the same for you, provided that’s something you’d want.” Mohg was wary of anyone that would modify his body. There would always be those who would wish to cure what didn’t need to be rectified and he was happy enough the way he was.

“No. I am comfortable the way that I am.” He looked to the empyrean expecting him to push back but he merely shrugged.

“As long as my husband is happy I’m happy.”

“Once again you seem too confident I will say yes.”

“Do I have a reason not to be?”

“A fair point, Gareth.” He was surprised he was ready to agree to this so soon, but the evidence remained: the man seemed to have no desire to betray him, he could offer him power, he wanted to be a father, he would accept him for the whole of his being, and even had the benefit of experiencing aspects of it. There was no real reason to say no. He sighed in resignation. “I shall be your consort provided I am given the seat of highest political adviser, and provided you will take responsibility in raising our children no matter how they are born.” Garreth planted a gentle kiss on Mohg’s forehead.

“I promise I will never abandon our children the way your parents did.” Gareth stepped off the bed and dug around in his pockets. He returned with two gold rings shaped somewhat like small crowns. “I found these on my travels long before I returned to the Lands Between. They will never get dirty or rust but if they are removed they’ll break forever.” He slipped one on his finger and handed the other to Mohg. “I always thought it was a little romantic since there were two of them.” Mohg hesitated but then slipped the ring onto his finger. It magically resized itself to fit him perfectly. “Now what do you say I try and fulfill one part of our agreement tonight?” His hand teased at Mohg’s entrance.

“If the gods will it.”

“I certainly do.” Garreth rubbed Mohg’s clit bringing it to attention. He put his forearm in front of Mohg’s mouth as he lined himself up. “Drink.” Mohg didn’t have to be told twice. He tore into the empyrean’s arm and lapped at the wound. The intoxicating taste of his husband’s blood flooded his mouth as his other half thrust into him. He felt hands latch onto his chest roughly kneading the flesh.

Garreth was so lucky that this proud demigod would submit to him. Not only submit, but agree to bear his child. He had already left his mark on his husband’s body by healing all of his ingrown horns but he wanted to leave something others would recognize. He dipped his head to Mohg’s neck and licked the delicate skin with his flames, burning him. Mohg’s breath hitched. Gareth didn’t heal it over right away, instead projecting the feeling of a kiss onto the wound. Let the whole world know the demigod belonged to him.

Mohg released the empyrean’s arm and wrapped his own around his husband’s back. He pulled him down to his face reveling in the pain of his skin melting and reforming.

Gareth felt Mohg tighten around him and began thrusting harder and faster. Mohg dug his claws into his back, shuddering and curling into him and he came. He felt blood drip down his back but left the wounds open. He would proudly wear the mark that Mohg had left him in turn.

Mohg panted in the wake of his orgasm. The lights in the room had flickered when the empyrean above him came, the yellow flame responding to the call of its master. The flame made the sweat and blood that coated his husband’s body glow. Highlighting his tight muscles as it traveled through the divots between them. The sight nearly distracted him enough to not realize Gareth was still hard. He had cum he still felt it inside of him. How on earth was he still hard?

“Gareth?” He shifted on his husband’s cock and he moaned.

“You forget. I hold the power of a god at my fingertips. I can do this as many times as it takes.” He ground up into Mohg.

“A rather frivolous use of such power don’t you ah!” He was cut off by a particularly rough thrust.

“Not if you truly wish to create a dynasty. We will need strong children to inherit the throne. Preferably as many as possible.” Mohg felt himself becoming wet again. “We have an eternity to look forward to together. I wonder how many I can give you.” He began to thrust harder. “I can picture it. You, constantly full with my children even as the years go on and our grandchildren and great grandchildren are born. Our descendants will multiply and spread until all of the Lands Between becomes a part of our dynasty.” He came into Mohg a second time and began thrusting again without skipping a beat. “Our dynasty will eclipse your father’s golden lineage both in number and in strength. I will be a god and you a high priest, channeling power through yourself that Godfrey could only hope to achieve. If strength is what warrants the title of lord, you are truly the most deserving, my love. Our children will inherit power from the both of us. My flame mixed with yours will create true gods.” Mohg was taken by his orgasm again and the empyrean came inside him for the third time. Mohg pawed at the empyrean’s arm.

“You may have the stamina of a god but I do not.” Mohg had really only just awoken but he was already exhausted. Gareth slid out of him.

“You are still recovering from the first burn I gave you, my treasured consort.” He gathered his larger husband into his arms. “Let’s get you cleaned up shall we?”

The empyrean’s home, wherever it was, was more expansive than Mohg anticipated. He took him from the bedroom out onto a bridge suspended between the turret that the room had been in and the main body of the palace. For that’s what it was a palace. It was constructed upside down hanging from the ceiling of a huge cave. A huge cave that Mohg recognized. He looked outside the bridge and sure enough there was the mausoleum in the distance. So that’s what all that noise had been a few months ago.

They entered the main body of the palace, took a few turns and then came out in a luxurious bathing room. The centerpiece of the room was a large pool with multiple sources feeding into it. Mohg noticed several sigils carved into each tap but was too tired to attempt to decipher them. Gareth tapped two on the nearest faucet and the water coming out began to steam. He gently lowered Mohg into the pool. The water felt nice on his skin, still a little raw even after the healing spells. Gareth lowered himself in next to Mohg. The drying blood spread out through the water around him. He picked up a washcloth from the edge of the pool and began working to clean the blood and spend out of the hair that coated Mohg’s body.

“What is this place?” Mohg asked sleepily. “I do not remember such a palace existing. During my time on the surface.”

“It did not exist until a few months ago. Although I did take inspiration from the structures of the Siofra aqueduct system when I asked for it to be built.”

“Rather strange for such a place to be built for a tarnished, even one chosen as an empyrean like yourself.”

“I may not have been fully honest with you about my station, Mohg.”

“Oh?” He had had his suspicions.

“I wasn’t testing you exactly, but I wanted you to choose me of your own volition rather than thinking you were obligated to.”

“I have resisted the gods my entire life. Do you really think I could be so easily compelled by one?”

“No I suppose not.”

“Then go on, tell me what you are.”

“I am Gareth of no house, Lord of the Frenzied Flame, King Eternal of the Lands Between, at least until someone manages to kill me.”

“Then I am already Mohg of the Moghgwynn Dynasty, Lord of Blood, Third Elden Lord, and consort to the Eternal King.” The god nodded.

“And father of my children.” He pressed a hand to Mohg’s stomach.

“You couldn’t possibly know that.” The god’s flame flickered with what Mohg was now reasonably sure was joy and pride.

“I did say I willed it didn’t I? As god I decide the order of the world.”

“How many?!”

“Two. It seems that twins remain common in your bloodline. Beyond that I don’t want to know. I’ll take them as they are when they arrive.” He pulled Mohg closer to him but dulled the heat of his flames to a soft warmth. “I will have you drink my blood every day so that you will be strong enough for the delivery. I want you to share in every part of me, to take my life and my strength as your own.” He held out his arm once more in offering to his husband. Mohg took it gently and sliced it open with his fangs before beginning to drink. Gareth brought a hand to the back of his head. “Good boy.” He ran a hand up and down Mohg’s back. Gareth looked into Mohg’s yellow eyes, clouded with hunger for him. “Truly there is no one more perfect for me than you.” Mohg lapped at the wound and pulled away.

“As much as it pains me to say it, you are perfect for me as well, my lord.”

“No need for such formalities, darling. If not for the decision of the three fingers you would have out ranked me by far.” Mohg dragged his fangs along the skin of Gareth’s hand in his approximation of a kiss.

“My lord.” He gazed intensely up at Gareth and he realized deference was the closest Mohg’s pride would let him come to an endearment. He took Mohg’s hand in his and pressed a light burn into the skin.

“My perfect consort.”