For Lord and Land

For Lord and Land
By: Delilah deSora
Part 3
Chapter 7
**


Pride is what makes the dragon such an unparalleled creature. It is what inspires the awe in us for through the dragon’s pride we can’t help but admire him as well. However, in the end, it is pride that is his downfall. What else could cause him to so foolishly bare his chest to the invader’s spear?

-Isabelle Kaemon

**

Closing his eyes, Ardel breathed in deeply, letting the steam from the bath fill his lungs. His skin had long ago turned bright red but he refused to relent,pingping the water as hot as it had been when he’d entered it. It relaxed muscles tight from a night of kneeling before his ancestor’s altar. He had stormed from the governor’s party the night before, stripping the paint from his face and tearing the heavy robes from his body.

He had brought his Leviathan to Velin to forget about his past not to have it steal him away the moment he was distracted! Dressing in a loose shirt and pants he had sent his guards to clear out the sanctuary. In his state he had no wish to deal with anyone and the near abandoned temple seemed the best place to be. The incense had helped to clear his mind and the hard marble under his knees reminded him of the reality of his situation.

He wondered if Dante would have even told him of the meeting if he hadn’t stumbled across it.

With a snarl he forced such thoughts from his mind. Rising from the bath he walked down the short hall to a larger bathing area. A set of acolytes and the head priest waited him there and he stepped down into the bath. Warm water, much cooler than the water he had just left, wrapped around him as he held out his arms, allowing the oiled water to be poured over his head and onto his skin.

The priest began reading from a book in his hand, calling upon the fire god’s blessing. Ardel ignored him, totally focused on the feeling of hands rubbing soap onto his skin. It felt strange. He’d never had been bothered by the touch of those assigned to bath him when there was some ritual or special gathering before but now they’re impersotouctouches felt wrong.

For a fleeting moment he wished that Dante were there.

He was ushered from the bath and he stood patiently as he was toweled. Lying upon a cushioned chaise he listened as blessings were called upon him, the priest occasionally touching the top of his head or forehead as he spoke. Oils were worked into his skin and he had to fithe the urge to doze off. This ritual was about poise and control. He would prove to his father’s peers that he wasn’t a child any longer. He would prove that he was in control.

A simple robe was wrapped about him, much like Dante’s blue robe, though rather than golden leviathans dipping and twisting through blue silk it was golden dragons that snarled up at him through a brilliant red sky. A golden belt was wrapped about his waist and his hair was allowed to fall free from the clips that had kept it fastened to the top of his head.

He was allowed a single golden and ruby earring that hung to his shoulder. A ruby pendant set in the shape of a soaring dragon was clipped about his neck and his hair was pulled back in a simple half braid, the rest of it allowed to fall halfway down his back. His delicately crafted crown was set on his head. Stepping into a pair of slippers he followed the priest to the sanctuary. Already he could hear those gathered for the ceremony inside, their voices a distinct murmur through the heavy wooden walls.

The doors opened and silence fell. Arms ridged at his sides he followed the priest into the fire god’s sanctum. His family’s crest hung on every wall, matching the robe that he wore. Between the ancient flags were tapestries showing his ancestor’s decent from the mountain, fire dancing from his hand. There were noble dragons in flight on some of them while others showed the uniting of the Ardaen tribes or the building of Aidus.

One pair of tapestries showed the Llyr palace in Wyrllyr falling into the sea while a proud dragon sat watching from the blazing ruins. Next to it the self same dragon was triumphing over a coiled leviathan. The moment he saw it he felt something roll in anger at the depiction.

Ardel shook his head making a point to have them removed.

Flames called to him as he approached the altar and knelt next to the priest. His ancestor was invoked and he was formally introduced as though the fire god himself had appeared before them. Rising he approached the throne above and behind the altar. Seating himself he peered out over the gathering of nobles.

The acolytes appeared, each bearing a plethora of sacrifices to him. He caught the priest’s grimace as they were laid upon the altar. It had been his one change to the age-old ceremony. Normally a live sacrifice was called for but Ardel had no wish to sit there while some poor animal screamed out the last of its life among flame. No living sacrifices had been his first change. The second change had been something his father had initiated but had died before fully putting into practice.

Unlike past years the food placed upon the altar before him would no longer be allowed to sit until it rotted or thrown into the flame. Food was far too precious to come by and one of his first acts as Emperor had been to issue a decree that all food given as an offering to the fire god be allowed to sit for no more than a day before being distributed to those who had no means to buy food on their own.

The acolytes bowed, backed away, and then proceeded to light the seven braziers. The sudden onslaught of heat felt practically sinful and Ardel smiled, relaxing back into the seat. It was comforting to be surrounded by his element and he allowed the problems that had plagued him slip away.

The day progressed slowly before dissolving into a full-blown frenzy come evening. The benches were pushed to the walls and people shouted and cheered as dancers and fire-eaters were brought in to entertain them. Ardel fed off his people’s energy, laughing openly with them. Drink was brought around and he accepted the brandy. Fire burned both inside and outside of him. The smugness at having the people recognize him as a force to be reckoned with caused the dragon’s blood within him to roll in satisfaction.

He didn’t notice when the fires beside him began to burn brighter nor did he recognize it when the feelings inside of him changed from enjoyment to fear. He did not know what triggered it but suddenly he found himself in the grip of complete paranoia. It had happened so fast he had had no time to prepare. The dragon within him reared its head and he struggled against it.

The innocent whispers of his guests turned to plots against him. Their admiring glances turned to ones of deception. Every fold of cloth held a weapon and he trembled as the world turned against him. When a noble laughed loudly and dropped his glass of wine to peels of laughter he felt his control slip. Before he could lose control completely there were hands on his shoulders and an insistent voice asking him if he was all right.

Turning he gripped Errol’s jacket in his hands, clinging to the man as though he were a lifeline. “I . . . I can’t . . .” He hissed, panic overwhelming him.

“Get everyone out of here, now!” The knight snapped to someone behind him.

Ardel closed his eyes tightly, shuddering as the formally pleasurable feeling of the fires surrounding him became painfully oppressive. There was the sound of an angry audience and he fell headlong into sheer panic, crying out as he slid from the throne and fell to his knees. The burning flames inside of him found an outlet in the fires about him and he heard a distinct roar as they flared out of control.


He flung his head back and screamed.

**

Dante nearly fell as he ran through the marble hallways of the church, the black cloak snapping behind him. He had known this was a bad idea! He had been even surer of it when Ardel hadn’t returned that night. To go into this foolishness without complete control was absurd, to do it while angry at him was sheer stupidity. He had been sitting in the room, waiting for someone to come to him and he wasn’t disappointed.

The guard gestured him to a small hallway, probably only used by acolytes and priests. Just beyond the wall he could hear the confused murmurs of the gathered guests. The fact that there were still guests to murmur and the temple itself was still standing helped calm him a bit as a door was opened and he was ushered through.

Breven and Errol turned to stare at him as he slowed his pace. Just beyond them Ardel knelt on the floor, his arms wrapped tightly about himself. There were braziers smoking all around him and he glanced at Errol in confusion.

The knight shrugged and whispered. “He screamed and they flared before going out.”

Pursing his lips and nodding he stepped past them.

“Ardel.” He whispered softly, approaching the trembling man like a frightening horse.

The green eyes remained closed and Ardel’s tig tightened about himself.

Dante knelt next to his lover, gently touching the curved back. The jolt of power he received nearly made him jump back in surprise but he caught himself in time. Gritting his teeth he caught Ardel’s face with his hand, urging him out of the curled position.

“Hush now, it’s all right.” He whispered, kissing the top of his lover’s head. “I’m here.”

Ardel’s arms wrapped about his waist and the pale face was buried against his shoulder. Ardel’s skin was hot to the touch and Dante shook his head in frustration as he held the man, trying to sooth the rolling panic within his lover. It was the same as when he had first come to Ardel. The panic and fear was overwhelming.

“Come now,” he whispered, tightening his arms around his lover, “let’s go back to the room.”

Ardel’s hands tightened painfully. “No! I don’t want them to see me!”

Dante shrugged off the cloak, wrapping it about Ardel’s form and pulling the hood low over Ardel’s face. “It’s all right.” He soothed, bracing his legs as he caught Ardel under the knees and lifted the smaller man in his arms.

Ardel buried his face against his chest as he swept past the knight and guard. The walk back to the room was silent and blessedly free of people. Breven hurried past him at the last minute to hold the door open for them and as Dante passed he asked the guard to keep everyone away for the rest of the night.

He gently laid his lover on the bed, peeling back the hood. Ardel simply trembled on the bed as he pulled off the adornments, dropping them carelessly on the floor. He was a bit gentler with the crown, setting the twisting golden headpiece on the table. Retrieving a brass bowl and filling it with water he returned. Silently he damped a cloth with the water and ran it over Ardel’s skin, using it to help his own power drift into his lover.

Little by little he banked the flames until Ardel’s eyes unclenched and his breath was no longer the hiccupping gasps of panic but the slow peaceful rhythm of sleep. Urging his sleeping loved onto his side Dante undressed and slipped in next to him. The fires still burned hot within him but he ignored it. Draping the damp cloth over the warm brow he simply held the warm body next to his as Samhain came to an end.

**

Ardel woke, feeling as though his body were nothing but so much dead weight. His head hurt fiercely and he could feel his emotions being stroked by angry flame, only held back by the strong arms that held him. He closed his eyes in shame. He’d been a fool and now everyone would think of him as such.

He felt Dante shift behind him and he kept his eyes closed as he was rolled onto his back. A hand touched his cheek and turned unconsciously towards the touch.

“How do you feel?” His Leviathan asked.

He took a shuddering breath and the man above him laughed.

“That good hmm?”

Lips touched his and Ardel turned his face, causing them to slide over his cheek. “Leave me be.” He pleaded.

The bed shifted and opened his eyes enough to see Dante sit back, his hand sliding down to rest on Ardel’s thigh. “Are you hungry?”

Ardel shook his head, trying to ignore the hand that gently caressed his thigh.

“Do you want a bath?”

Again he shook his head negatively. “I . . . I just want to rest.”

Dante nodded and rose. Ardel drew his knees to his chest, pulling the covers to his chest. The urge to weep overcame him but he pushed it back. He wouldn’t be weak. He wouldn’t.

A hand stroked the hair away from his face and he drew another shuddering breath opening his eyes to peer at the man kneeling at the bedside next to him. “Do you want to go home?” Dante asked softly.

The tears welled and Ardel nodded. He didn’t want to face the people again. Not after the spectacle he had made of himself. He just wanted to go home where he felt safe. He longed for his room and the privacy of own own bed. Dante rose and left. Closing his eyes he drifted in a half sleep for a few minutes before the bed shifted and an arm drew him back against his Leviathan’s strong stomach.

Dante’s fingers stroked his chest soothingly and he closed his eyes, enjoying the way they played over his skin. They moved down to tease his stomach, making him curl a bit tighter as they tickled the muscles. He was enjoying it so much he didn’t even realize that they had slid down to stroke his thigh and he had unconsciously parted his legs until a fingernail ran up the bottom of his cock, making him arch back against his Leviathan, a moan escaping as a new type of shudders ran through him.

Dante palmed the head of his cock before stroking him firmly from tip to base and back up again. Ardel bit his lip as his lover established a firm rhythm. His hips thrust in time with Dante’s strokes and a second arm wormed its way underneath him, tilting him back so that he lay partially on his Leviathan’s broad chest. Fingers pinched his nipples harshly, making him cry out as the pain only served to heighten his pleasure.

He writhed as Dante stroked him faster, the knuckles of his hand rubbing against his lower stomach. He struggled against the hold, trying to find release while begging his lover to slow down. Dante refused the request, biting his shoulder as the torment continued. The inferno swirled within him and he bucked against his lover’s body.

He suddenly found himself flipped onto his hands and knees, his legs kicked apart and his face pressed against the pillows. Dante’s hand stopped, gripping the base of his cock with a painful pressure. He shrieked, trying to pull away from the grip. His body demanded satisfaction but his lover was having none of it. A sharp slap connected with his upraised ass, sending him lurching forward though the grip remained, holding him in place. The double spike of pain sent a new, clearer type of pleasure through him.

Another smack caught him and he cried out as it was followed by another that caused strong fingers to slap with less force against his balls.

“When will you learn?” his lover hissed, “That you have nothing to prove to anyone! No one thinks you a child, Ardel! I told you that! Did you think that such a ridiculous endeavor would succeed?”

His ability to answer was stolen from him by another series of spanks that sent his mind reeling.

A strong hand ran over his hot flesh and he felt his lover’s cock press against his opening.

“I do not think you a child,” Dante murmured, “Since you will not believe my words I suppose I will simply have to show you.”

He was entered roughly and Ardel braced himself against the bed as his Leviathan established a demanding rhythm. The hand resumed stroking him and each time his lover ground his hips against his abused ass he experienced a flash of pain and pleasure that sent him screaming into the flames.

He came, splashing his chest with his own seed but still his lover worked him. Dante’s fingers were pressed against his lips and he eagerly lapped at the cream covered fingers, earning a deep growl from the man behind him. Dante’s pace increased until blue eyes clenched closed and power flowed over his skin as his Leviathan’s seed flowed into his body.

He was unconscious before Dante even released him.

**

He woke to an empty bed and stretched the kinks out of his body. His back hurt terribly and he wished for his own bed where he could sink down into the cushions and stretch out without the fear of tumbling either himself or his lover to the floor. Speaking of lovers . . .

Rising he snatched a robe from the floor, practically drowning in the silken expanse. It dragged on the floor behind him, testament to Dante’s height, as he walked from the bedroom into the sitting room. The black haired man sat on the couch, legs curled up underneath him as he flipped through a well-worn book.

Ardel reached out and took the book from him, peering at the cover before giving his lover a surprised look. Dante simply shrugged. “Its nice to read something that has no bearing on my life once in awhile.”

Laughing softly Ardel set the book aside and wedged himself between his Leviathan and the edge of the couch, smiling as he leaned back into the safety of Dante’s arms. A soft kiss was pressed to the back of his neck and he closed his eyes happily.

“Feeling better?” Dante asked.

He nodded as he caught one of the larger hands with his own and placed a kiss to the palm.

“I spoke with Errol. He’s rounding everyone up and thinks we can be gone from here in a few hours.”

Sighing heavily Ardel nodded again, turning his face to bury it against his lover’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I wanted to stay longer so you could enjoy yourself but . . .”

He was silenced by a tightening of Dante’s arms and a soft kiss on the crown of his head. “Its all right,” his lover replied, “Next year we can try again.”

**

They rode through the night, the howling wind bringing a sense of melancholy to Dante as it buffeted the carriage. He had not been able to see his brother again before leaving and that also left his heart feeling heavy. He had, however, discovered that Cian would be in Florin for a month at the Bryant household to allow his lady-love some time to visit her family. This he had heard through Errol who had lamented that he would not have a chance to visit as well for the impromptu homecoming. He hoped the lady made his brother happy. Cian certainly deserved it.

They stopped early the next day to allow those that had not slept the night before to do so and to rest the horses. There was an almost celebratory air as servants and guards chattered among themselves. Ardel seemed inclined to want to hide in his pavilion for the rest of the day but Dante found himself restless and managed to convince his lover to walk with him.

It wasn’t the quiet lover’s walk he had been expecting but he enjoyed it nonetheless. He and Ardel kept to the outskirts of the camp so no one would have an excuse to interrupt them. There was a small oasis just beyond the camp and they headed towards it. Just as they reached the boundary between the barren Ardae sand and the lush greenery of the oasis there was a shout from behind them and the sound of hooves.

Whirling Dante and Ardel stared as a horse sans bridle trotted down the gentle slope and wedged itself between them, practically shoving Ardel out of the way. Dante laughed and stroked the silken nose.

“Are you causing trouble again, demon?” Dante asked.

Marlow began nosing around his pants and shirt, looking for a treat. Laughing Dante took the horse-less bridle from the servants that came trailing in the horse’s wake, waving them off. As he slid the bridle back on Ardel edged around the side of the horse, peering at it in annoyance.

“What is this?” Ardel demanded.

Dante smiled as he stroked the stallion’s neck. “This is Marlow.”

Ardel reached out and the horse lifted his head bearing its teeth and causing the man to snatch back his hand in surprise. “Not very friendly is he?”

Catching the bridle Dante forced Marlow’s head down, tapping the horse sharply on the nose in reproach. “Well he’s a war horse; they’re not supposed to be. There now, try again.”

Hesitantly Ardel reached out again. This time the stallion submitted to the touch. “He’s very . . . ah . . . big.” The red haired man supplied.

Dante laughed. “He’s very fast too.” A thought occurred to him and he grinned at his lover. “Let’s go for a ride.”

Ardel’s eyes widened slightnd hnd he shook his head. “I don’t . . .”

Catching his lover about the waist he lifted Ardel up, forcing the man to scramble up onto the horse’s back. “You don’t ride enough.” He chided as he drew himself up into the saddle behind his lover.

“That’s because I don’t like riding!” Ardel shouted as Marlow leapt forward.

Wrapping an arm about the gasping man and gripping the reins with his other hand Dante pressed against Ardel’s back until they were both almost laying forward on the stallion’s neck. “Hold on.” He whispered, nipping at the shell of Ardel’s ear as the stallion tore through the sand.

He let the horse go where it willed, knowing Marlow wouldn’t venture far from the other horses, and instead concentrated on the man he held in his arms. Ardel’s eyes were firmly closed as he clung to the arm about his waist. Smirking Dante began nibbling on the bared neck, drawing the curve of Ardel’s hips firmly against his. Each time the stallion’s powerful hind legs pushed off the ground they were thrust together.

“What are you doing?” Ardel hissed, his voice notably breathless.

Dante chuckled. “Enjoying the ride.” He replied, mischievously, reaching down to fondle his lover.

Ardel’s head fell back to rest against his shoulder and his breath came in pants as he was teased. Dante bit at the bared neck, leaving small red marks. His lover trembled as he was thrust into the massaging hand. Dante tugged the reio keo keep the stallion on the opposite side of the oasis to keep any curious eyes back at the camp from seeing anything other than a pair of riders.

By the time Marlow had had his fill of chasing the wind both riders were quite finished with public activities. Dante was practically dragged into the pavilion as Ardel fell upon him. They had barely managed to hastily cloth themselves before Errol reappeared and they were both ushered back into the carriage to return to the long journey back home.