“Court of Eternity” by Sahari

Chapters One through Ten

Note: This story, these characters and in fact all of this writing is the sole property of Sahari. Please do not repost this anywhere on the Web or Net without permission.

Chapter One

The bright being pulsed into the tiny shrine without a sound. The old priest shivered and cowered from in front of the altar, his two companions dumb in a kind of fatalistic terror.

You have summoned me, it said. Speak.

"Your pardon, Great Lord, I-I have two gifts for your masters, and a boon to ask in return . . . "

The brightness dimmed a little, allowing the old man to peer up at the being. It looked almost to be a man, a tall slender man with shoulder-length golden hair and a perfect angelic oval face. It wore filmy garments of blue the exact shade of its eyes; the cloth seemed to wave and drift on its own, although there was no wind. On its back was strapped a gold-inlaid lute. The old priest took the clue, and KNEW. This was not some lowly messenger. This was Kin'nara, THE messenger of the gods.

What gifts do you give to my glorious lords? Kin'nara asked.

The priest took a shaky breath and struggled to his feet. "These two perfect young people . . . "

My Masters do not accept living beings as gifts, Kin'nara said. They do not follow the old laws.

The old man's eyes flew open and he hastily reassured the messenger. "These are willing gifts to your masters, if it pleases them. They volunteered to be given."

The being lifted its head slightly, the eyes flaring as it examined the two young adults behind the altar, one man, one woman.

The eyes flicked, appraised, then it said, They are satisfactory. My masters will be pleased with these gifts. What boon would you ask?

"Great Lord, there has been no rain in four months. The people have no food. If their Greatnesses would help us . . . if it is not too much to ask."

I will inquire in the matter, Kin'nara said. He lifted a clawed hand, and with a long finger summoned the two to him. They walked, trembling, until they were right before him. Gently the long-nailed finger touched one forehead and then the other, and the young faces smoothed, their shaking ceased.

In a pulse of golden light, all three were gone, leaving a shivering old priest on the stone floor of a small shrine.

In two days, there was rain.

+++++++++

The Court of Eternity, a plane of existence separate yet bridged to the mortal world, contained beings whose lives seemed to stretch forever, whose beauty was almost terrifying, and whose powers were beyond the comprehension of those people living in the world next to it.

It was easier to call these beings "gods."

Kin'nara had been a musician for generations of immortal rulers, and had survived by being their messenger, and being neutral to the political conflicts in the court. He did what he was told, and when there was war, he became the link between enemies.

But now was the time of peace. There were two rulers in the Court of Eternity, Shura and Magora, heirs of two warring factions that had long thrown the court into chaos. Peace had reigned in heaven and on earth because the unthinkable had happened: Shura and Magora got along, and sometimes actually agreed with each other.

Kin'nara led the two young "gifts" into the Great Hall where the afternoon court was being held. Shura sat on the phoenix throne, head in his hand while Magora spoke to his general, Sanji, from the dragon throne. They paused to see the messenger and his charges approach. Caught under Kin'nara's glamour, the two mortals were calm and passive.

"The priest of Village Shivas has requested rain for their crops, and in return given our gracious lords these two WILLING gifts."

Magora lifted a pale brow, cool speculation in his long and narrow dragon-green eyes. He glanced at Shura, who stood up and descended down to look at the two mortals. Shura looked at Kin'nara with a quick smile and said, "Lovely." He called down to the doorkeeper: "Summon Fuujin and Raijin." With a large hand, the ruler lifted the boy's chin, looking into eyes that were an unusual dark blue. The girl's eyes were the same.

"Siblings?" Magora murmured, drifting to them with liquid grace, and looking at the two with curiosity. "What is your name?" he asked the girl.

"Kaishi, Great Lord," she said softly.

Shura laughed. "Mystery? And you, beautiful boy?"

"Kaze."

"Wind," Magora mused. "Did you have fanciful parents?"

"We're orphans," the girl said.

"That explains it," Shura said. He motioned Fuujin and Raijin, twin gods of wind and storm. The two slender gods approached and waited for their orders. "Rain -- gentle rain -- for the village of Shivas and any surrounding villages. When you return tell me if there are other villages suffering."

The two bowed together, turned and hurried from the hall. Shura beckoned another servant. "Have these two bathed, attractively dressed and given rooms. They may have the freedom of the gardens, but have someone watch over them until we have time to . . . welcome them."

The servants led away the pliant mortals and Magora laughed that silky draconic laugh and slid an arm around his fellow ruler's broad shoulders. "It's good to be emperor of heaven, isn't it?" he breathed into Shura's ear.

Shura slid a golden eye at the other. His gold eyes and skin proclaimed him to be a lion god, but the waist-length curling red hair was all phoenix, his mother's people. It gave him a forceful presence, making him look larger than he was. "Don't worry; I'll share."

"I should hope so," Magora chuckled. He made his way back to the throne and Shura admired the subtle sway of Magora's slender hips. The dragons were a graceful people, seductive, clever. Magora was pure dragon, with long straight silver hair and the whitest skin, his eyes, reptilian green. Everyone loved looking at Magora . . .

Living with him was another matter.

It had taken thousands of years for their two families to finally agree to a double throne, and for there to be two offspring from each side roughly the same age and true heirs of their families. It was also important that the two could co-exist, and not kill each other within the first century of their reign together.

Shura didn't want to kill Magora, exactly. It was just that Magora was just so . . . maddening. He guessed the other might feel the same about him. It was like putting two strange cats in a room together and hoping they would start grooming each other. Well, after a decade of the double rule, they were still hissing a little, but would rub up against each other once in a while.

He turned and remembered Kin'nara, who was patiently waiting for orders. "Well done," he both praised and dismissed him.

Kin'nara bowed his golden head and left, his cool expression never changing.

They said the messenger of the gods was older than the gods themselves. Shura wasn't so sure of that, but he did know that Kin'nara was like an ancient glacier; he was cold, and there were parts to him that one never saw. He was beautiful, and many had tried to thaw this heart, but it was universally acknowledged that Kin'nara had no heart to thaw. Such a shame, Shura had often thought, that someone so beautiful could be so cold.

Then he turned and regarded Magora, thinking, Well, there's two of them. But at least you could touch Magora; the dragon god was able to show affection, even if it was a cool, high-handed and reserved sort of affection.

The ruler in question took up the interrupted topic of conversation with Sanji, sliding into the seat of the silver throne. "Negotiations seem to be going well, then, with Emperor Shotei and the lords of the four quarters."

"They have agreed in general to the tithes, although there's some argument about the details."

"Aren't there always . . . " Shura commented. "Let them battle over the particulars. We give them plenty of spells to protect their borders and crops, and trade artisan products for silk and servants, and they always argue over petty details."

"Perhaps they have nothing better to do," Magora murmured, shifting in his chair. "Do sit down, Lion."

Shura growled good-naturedly at the other, and sat on the gold throne next to Magora.

"This is the first complaint I've heard about rain," Sanji commented. "It would perhaps be wise to take a deeper survey of the lands in our protection, if this is a new pattern."

"Agreed," Magora replied, glancing for Shura's affirmation. The other nodded. "Also, I'd like those two mortals interviewed by the servants -- what they did for the village, and so forth. I'm sure Makeishura has something in mind, but we'll have to incorporate them into our staff eventually."

"Ever practical," Shura muttered. "One last thing, Sanji: where is Baksha?"

The general's pained expression did not bode well. "He is mourning the loss of his wife in the House of Delight."

"She died of -- what -- childbirth?" Shura wanted to know.

"Yes, Great Lord. She bore a son, but the healers could not stop the bleeding. The son survives."

"Baksha has a son. That should be some consolation." Magora sighed. "Rila was a beautiful woman, but she was mortal, and this is often the problem with mortals bearing our children. They both knew the risks."

Shura gave Magora a hard look, angered at the detached response. This was one of the things that maddened him about the dragon emperor, his lack of true sympathy for the suffering of others. "He loved Rila. I'm not so sure her son will be enough consolation for her loss."

His hard tone of voice made Magora lift his eyebrows. "He perhaps should have thought of that before he impregnated a mortal woman who was already frail by nature," he replied coldly.

They stared at each other.

"Shall I summon him back to court?" Sanji asked, wedging his words between their clashing glares.

"No," they said simultaneously, then glanced at each other, chagrined.

"Let him mourn," Magora finally said. "Let him return in his own time."

Sanji bowed.

++++++++++

Kin'nara played the lute that night, his flawless voice rising above the din of revelers and dinners in the court. The court was empty of ambassadors and visitors, leaving only several hundred of its royal residents, not including mortal and immortal servants, to carry on with duties and revelry.

The head servant of the Lower House approached reverently and spoke to Sanji, who in turn spoke to Magora, who happened to be seated at the time. "The servant says that the two mortals have shed the calming spell they were under, and are acclimating. He says the girl is untouched, and knows five languages and kept the shrine's library in her village; he says she seems to be unfamiliar with men besides her brother, and uncomfortable with them. The boy is similarly untouched, but is more outgoing, and less intellectual. He is, however, extremely agile and strong, and seems to be interested in martial arts."

Magora lifted a brow at this summation. "Attractive young mortals with these obvious talents . . . this gift is getting more and more intriguing." He remembered something. "Are they twins?"

"Yes, at least the same age and siblings, so I assume . . . "

"Interesting. We might have a place at the great library for the girl, and we'll see about the boy's potential. I have a feeling that Shura has . . . plans for that one . . . soon." Magora gave Sanji an arch smile. The black-haired warrior nodded, all too aware of his emperors' habits. Shura would not pass on an opportunity such as this one, a lovely young mortal, so rare in the court.

Sanji made the rounds of the court, keeping his eyes out for possible conflict. Since the double reign of the current rulers, there was little in-fighting, the families generally peacefully settling their disputes. However, without his cousin, Baksha, who was still grieving in the House of Delight, his duties seemed heavier, the responsibilities almost too many for him alone.

Their family was kirin, and kirins were staunch and duty-faithful, the guardians of Eternity.

He had already had the two new mortals thoroughly checked over by their greatest truth-sayer, looking for possible subterfuge, magical influences, mental coercion, and came up clean, which was entirely too convenient. Mortals didn't come this perfect, this beautiful.

For one thing, mortals didn't offer up two such perfect specimens lightly, and such specimens! Dark blue-eyed, and copper-haired, rare for mortals to begin with, and each exceptionally pretty and intelligent. Tall, with firm physiques and delicate features, one might almost mistake them for some sort of half-immortal.

Except that those children blessed with immortal parents were always claimed and raised in the Court of Eternity, no exceptions.

He watched Kin'nara absently, smiling wryly at the cluster of the younger immortals, men and women both, who sat at the minstrel's feet, enraptured. He supposed he might have been just as enthralled when he was younger. Even the eldest of them could not remember a time when Kin'nara wasn't the minstrel of the Court, wasn't beautiful and wasn't pursued, and wasn't as cold as winter. It was a source of amusement to the older ones, that despite the tales of his unrelenting frigidity, there were those willing to throw themselves into freezing waters to attempt at the treasure of Kin'nara's supposed heart.

Well, perhaps that was too harsh, he admonished himself. He knew Kin'nara had a heart, he just didn't think the minstrel-messenger had used it in centuries.

Shura was laughing heartily with Fuujin by the buffet, wine in one hand, and the other arm encircling the "flavor of the night," a willowy immortal that Sanji couldn't quite place, though he recognized him as a member of the crane family. He SHOULD remember; it was his duty. He blinked as the man turned his head, sipping from his goblet, and surveying the Court with cool violet eyes before fixing them on Sanji himself momentarily. That look gave Sanji a shock.

Oh, he thought, one of THEM. The crane family predictably produced a high percentage of truthsayers, just as the kirin produced warriors and the dragons produced sorcerers. This one had that aura in his gaze, as if he were looking into you, instead of at you.

But why would Shura . . . ? It was none of his business, really. There was no harm in a crane truthsayer. Shura had taken up with riskier bedmates. At least cranes were hereditary allies of the phoenix, and neutral towards lion.

They had been, historically, enemies of the dragon family, however.

Sanji found himself smiling at the lovely man, whose gaze immediately shifted away, confirming his suspicions. He supposed he'd have to let the two emperors know that the cranes were scheming again. Or, perhaps . . .

He strode over to the red-maned emperor with a confident stride and a bland expression. The crane's gaze was once again fixed on the emperor, who held him about the shoulders with a powerful arm.

Fuujin noticed his approach first, and backed away, falling silent. Shura turned his head, and lifted his brows at Sanji's approach.

"Your Majesty," Sanji greeted.

"Lord Sanji," Shura returned. "I don't think you know Lord Tsurukusha. Tsuru, this is Lord Sanjitaisho."

The crane inclined his head. "I'm honored," he said in a cultured voice almost rivaling a dragon's. Closer up, his eyes were extraordinary, the irises ringed in dark blue shading to purple towards the center. The rest of him was typically crane, from the fine white hair cut in layers about his face, to the tall, pale, lissome body.

Such a shame, thought Sanji as he smiled amicably at the truthsayer. "Pleased to meet you," he said, then turned towards Shura in a dutiful-like manner. "I believe you wished to know the status of a certain gift, My Liege."

"Oh yes," the man replied, with a smile.

"There seems to be some agreement that tonight might be a good night, but I see that you are busy . . . " Sanji's glance at Tsuru was casual but he could see that the crane was starting to understand what was going on, and was not pleased at Sanji's interference.

"Busy?" Shura wondered aloud. "Not particularly." He glanced down at Tsuru with a guileless smile. "Do you mind if we take this up tomorrow?"

"Not at all," the crane lord replied without a blink. Sanji had to admire the smoothness of that reaction. There was no sign of resentment.

Shura excused himself, returning to the table to speak to Magora, and Sanji turned to leave as well. But a soft, cultured voice made him pause.

"Lord Sanji."

"Yes, Lord Tsurukusha?"

The crane lord looked hesitantly at his hands and plucked at his diaphanous silks. Sanji was amazed at this sudden change of demeanor, and was on guard, although he couldn't help noticing that Tsuru's lands were long and elegant, and the nails were impeccably buffed and trimmed, and that the slender body half-revealed by the silk was well worth perusing. Well, his emperor had very good taste.

Those extraordinary eyes slowly lifted to his face and Sanji had to clamp down on himself, not to react to the obvious seduction there.

"Are you so busy that you can't make polite conversation?"

Sanji almost laughed. "Conversation," was it? Well, he didn't have to be as equally subtle.

"It's tempting, but you're a little too young and a little too beautiful, Tsuru."

The almost invisible white brows lifted. "How young do you think I am?"

"Young enough that I haven't met you before; as young as fifty."

The truthsayer smiled slightly. "Forty-three."

Sanji shook his head in disbelief. "Like I said." He was about to step back but a non-invasive touch of Tsuru's hand on his arm stopped him. He sighed and went for the target. "I'm afraid I'm no substitute for an emperor," he said mildly, dulling the sting with a kind tone.

Tsuru's expression hardly altered. "You're not a substitute," he argued in an equally mild tone. "More like consolation."

Sanji finally laughed, amazed at this virtual infant whose sophistication and cunning seemed to be on par with his elders in court. He almost admired the boy, except he knew that there was some underlying political reason why Tsuru had attempted the emperor, and was now attempting him. Again, he aimed closely. "You're a little too deep for me to dive into," he said. "Perhaps when I can see the bottom."

He lifted Tsuru's hand to his lips, watching as the crane's face grew even more unreadable. The smell rising from the skin was sweet, with the hint of citrus. It was tempting to bite down lightly, but instead he kissed the cool flesh before releasing the hand.

"A shame," Tsuru said, before turning and leaving. When Sanji turned, he had the distinct feeling more than a few pairs of eyes averted quickly to avoid his noticing.

Wonderful.

===============

In another part of the palace, Kaze was leaning over the balcony of the suite he shared with his sister, yawning.

"When do you suppose they'll let us free to go where we will?" he asked to air.

His sister answered. "Never. We're slaves."

That flat declaration did not please him and he frowned. "No one has said so."

"They're too polite to." She turned the page of the book she was reading so avidly. "I told you we'd be lowly servants here; you still wanted to come."

"Anything's better than village life," Kaze snorted. "I'd rather live low among the gods, than high among animals."

Kaishi sighed. "Must I remember that those "animals" fed us and clothed us and did their best for us?"

Kaze shook his head. Once again, he had not said what he meant to say. "You know what I mean."

She did indeed. "You know, I'm surprised, though. I had visions of . . ." She arched back a little to ease the tension in her shoulders. "Well, you know . . . "

Kaze laughed. "Whose to say that's still not in store for us?" Being her twin, he understood what she meant. "I wouldn't mind, actually. They're all so beautiful here, so I suppose it could be worse."

Silence from Kaishi meant she did not agree. He was not surprised. Kaishi didn't really like men that way. He figured it had something to do with her intellect, not that it discounted an interest in sex, but that she devoted herself to reading and knowledge all the time, and nothing else seemed to rival that interest.

"I was disappointed, though," she said after a moment. "I thought Lord Kin'nara might have been one of the emperors."

Kaze perked his ears up at that. "Oh? How's that?"

"I don't know . . . even when I realized that he wasn't a ruler, I felt . . . "

Kaze remembered something similar. "Yeah! That's right, like he was something bigger than they were . . . but that can't be right. If he were . . . he'd be emperor, wouldn't he?" He turned to look at Kaishi, who stared blankly back.

"So I was wrong. It was a false impression, produced by . . . the spell they put us under . . . and . . . " She struggled to make sense of it. "Well, it was incorrect, then."

The outer door opened, making them turn their heads. The familiar servant spoke to Kaze. "Mortal, Their Graciousnesses, the Emperors Magorao and Makeishura, summon you to Their chambers tonight. Come with me."

Kaze glanced quickly at his sister before obediently following the servant out of the door. Kaishi sat, eyes wide, breathing quickly, sat for many moments without moving, before slowly returning to her book.

But somehow she couldn't quite concentrate.

+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=

Chapter Two

The emperors' suites were of an unusual configuration, due to the unusual dual rule. They were three suites, interconnected through doors. The northern-most suite was Magora's, and the southern was Shura's. Between the two, a shared suite made an appropriate meeting ground for informal decision making.

Had either been the consort of the other, this would have been the conjugal chamber.

As it was, there was no bed, which indicated the necessary state of affairs between the two emperors. Had either dragon or phoenix families suspected that anything other than politics was between the scions of both sides, there would be hell to pay. It was agreed that it was good that the emperors were friendly, but for the sake of the interests of each family, they could not be TOO friendly. It was a curious balance.

That night, as night was reckoned in the heavens, the two emperors met from their respective chambers in the conjugal middle, nodded their hellos, and sat to wait at the comfortable chairs there.

As usual, Shura broke the silence first.

"Are you sure you don't want to give him over to me? I just had a birthday."

Magora cast a cool green eye at him. "I gave you that arm ring you are wearing," he said mildly. "He goes to which ever one of us he wants."

Shura sighed and pursed his lips. "And if he wants neither?"

"I don't really approve of coercion when it comes to one's body or soul. If he wants neither, so be it." Magora regarded his long nails, which Shura knew were perfect.

Hell, MAGORA was perfect. That was what worried him. Everyone wanted Magora. This boy would most likely choose Magora over Shura without blinking.

"I want an equal chance," he said. "I want it to be more than who he likes on sight."

"What ARE you suggesting?" Magora's tone was amused. Shura really wanted this boy, and was not bothering to disguise it. "I think it is equitable as is, but if you have a specific suggestion?"

Equitable? Shura gave Magora an exasperated look with his gold lion's eyes.

The dragon emperor was wearing a pale green silk robe, his silver hair loose and pooling to the ground behind his chair. He had a perfect high-cheeked face, with extraordinary long narrow green eyes, a straight nose and a sensual mouth. Like most dragons, his chin was slightly pointed and his ears were, as well. His long, well-defined body was woman-slender, but there was nothing feminine about the musculature. Shura didn't see it revealed often, for his co-ruler was inordinately modest, but Magora's body lean and well muscled.

Compare, then, himself. Shura stood half a head taller than Magora, with wide shoulders and heavy defined muscles. He disdained modesty and elegance, and wore a simple flame-colored silk kilt fastened low about his waist by a gold-linked belt. His hair was long, yes, but a riotous curly red, and his face was not elegant, but fiercely carved as if in malleable stone, his eyes slanted and oval under dark red brows, his nose straight and large, his mouth wide. He was a big man, and Magora once said that once he entered a room, there was no looking at anyone else, but he knew . . . he was not beautiful.

The fact that he had no limit of lovers he ascribed to being an emperor more than being attractive. Magora had fewer, and that he ascribed to Magora's tendency to be highly selective.

"One kiss each, and then he judges," he said finally.

Magora stood and walked slowly to the windows that overlooked the royal gardens. "A kiss," he echoed. Shura watched him warily. Magora was hesitating.

Then he understood.

Magora was extremely private in almost everything he did. He never showed affection in public, and it was only through rumors that the court was aware of his lovers. Despite their friendliness, neither of them had shown any intimacy beyond the acceptable light teasing in each other's presence. This simple plan, kissing someone where the other could watch, was something that perhaps pushed at the boundaries of what Magora found acceptable.

"Fine," the dragon emperor said after a long pause. "One kiss each."

Shura let out a slow breath.

The outer doors opened and the young mortal entered behind his accompanying servant. When the boy was fully in the room, the servant spoke sharply to the boy before bowing and backing out.

The boy knelt and prostrated himself.

Magora turned from the window and Shura leaned forward in his chair, smiling. "Stand up, Kaze. Let us see you."

The boy obeyed, keeping his eyes down. Shura smiled wider. Someone had done an inspired job of grooming and dressing Kaze, someone who had a fair amount of good taste.

Kaze's shoulder-length copper hair was brushed down his back. He was dressed in sapphire blue silks that left one arm free and exposed a good deal of muscles along the shoulder and chest. The color was an almost exact match for his eyes. Someone had adorned him in copper arm rings and ankle rings, someone who was going to be promoted very soon.

"Have you been treated well?" Magora asked softly.

Kaze didn't know whether to look or not, so lifted his head only a little, avoiding looking at the god emperors directly. He was struggling to be calm, but it was impossible in the presence of such beings as these. "Very well, Your Majesty. I thank you." His voice shook in an instinctive panic.

"Your sister, I take it, is an intelligent young woman," the dragon emperor continued.

Kaze gulped, panicking further. What did they have in store for Kaishi? He could handle anything, but what would they do to her?

"Never fear, we won't harm her," Shura said. "In fact, that was part of the reason for your being here this evening."

"Your sister will have a place in the great library," Magora said. "We wished to ascertain where we should employ you as well."

Kaze sighed in relief. The library. She would like that. "Anywhere I can serve," he said.

"For such a strong young man, there are many options," Magora continued. "We have few mortals among the warriors, but many are in the palace guard under General Sanji. You can serve a particular lord of the Court, or act as servant in the palace."

"A guard," he murmured, amazed. "Is it possible?"

"Most certainly it is," Magora laughed softly.

Kaze shivered at that voice, soft seduction like no voice he knew.

"Look at us," Shura said.

Kaze lifted his eyes hesitantly, almost afraid to look directly at them. Not since the calming spell when he had been brought to court had he actually seen the two emperors, but he remembered them in a haze, their terrible, frightening beauty.

Now, looking directly at them, his knees went weak. He couldn't do this; he couldn't stand here and LOOK at them, it was like blasphemy, to be so imperfect and witness their perfection.

Then they moved towards him and his heart jumped, his breath coming fast as their eyes trained on him. He was torn, not knowing which one to look at, so he finally looked at his feet, his mind racing as fast as his heart.

What did they want? Why were they --? His eyes darted to the sides, as Shura came up on his left, and Magora on his right. Surely, they didn't want . . .

"Before we release you into the household, we want you to consider something for tonight," Shura said, lifting Kaze's head up by the chin. Kaze saw those mesmerizing golden eyes looking deeply into his and then he was pulled forward, and the emperor was kissing him.

He didn't know where the panic went, but he was no longer afraid, no longer confused. A hard hot mouth was taking his and he let it, his mind blanking and his body alternately burning and melting. So this was what it was like . . .

And then he was released. He blinked, aware that the red-haired god was backing away, and that Magora was close to his other side. He gazed at Shura, then slowly looked at the other, amazed at the silver beauty who reached a white hand to draw him closer and twined its arms around him, sliding a slender firm body against his. Kaze was captivated, and when Magora tilted his head and slowly kissed him, he found himself leaning into the kiss, clumsily attempting to capture the unexpected warm silk of those skilled lips.

He was once again released, dazed, gasping, peripherally aware of the two conferring.

Shura sighed in resignation. The boy had definitely responded to Magora.

The dragon regarded his companion emperor, then smiled slightly, and said: "He is all yours."

Shura blinked, more than a little outflanked. "Pardon?"

Magora smiled outright. "He was thinking a little too much for my taste. He seemed to like you better." He moved away. "I will look after the sister. Enjoy yourself."

Kaze stood, heart pounding, heat pooling in him, staring at Shura in confusion, not understanding what was happening . . . or rather, afraid that what he thought was happening was only a dream.

The red-haired god grinned at him, took him firmly by the arm and pulled him close. "I intend to enjoy you, Kaze. Will you deny me?"

Kaze stared helplessly. Deny? Deny Emperor Shura? "I don't -- I don't understand --"

The god growled into his ear, the heat of his breath making Kaze want to give him anything and everything. "I want you. Do you want me?"

"Yes," he moaned. "Oh, yes . . . "

**********

Magora was admitted to the suite and found the girl rising from her chair, her book falling from her lap, forgotten. He lifted an arm before she prostrated herself. "Sit," he said, and she obeyed.

She was terrified of him, on many levels, but where most mortal women would be crying or trembling, he could see that this one would not cry. Strangely, it pleased him to see her strength.

"Your brother is safe," he said, suspecting that her brother's absense contributed most to her fear.

White-faced, she nodded, hands clasped tightly in her lap.

"He will go into the palace guard, while we will place you in the great library."

A little color came into her face at that. Again, she nodded, never quite looking at him.

"What were you reading?"

She stooped and picked the book up from the floor with a shaking hand. "Religious Practices among the Seven Families," she said in a faint but steady voice.

"How were you able to learn the High Language?"

She chewed at her lip. "It's called Chu-lan in the Southlands, and is still used in writing there, although the spoken dialect is . . . different."

Magora raised an eyebrow at that. "Just how many languages can you read?"

She hesitated. Was the girl actually counting?

"Six," she said finally, "but I can only speak five of them."

She couldn't be much into her adulthood, and she knew six written languages. Magora wondered what other marvels these two siblings would reveal as time drew on. Her brother seemed a natural in . . . physical matters, and his twin in intellectual matters, like one supreme person split right down the middle and assigned two different bodies.

"Is it acceptable for me to ask a question?" she asked.

"Certainly."

"Why . . . why are you here talking to me?"

For a moment Magora had to interpret her meaning, but finally he understood. "You mean, instead of some servant?"

"Yes."

"A good question. It is a rare thing to be gifted with willing mortal beings. In fact, I don't believe it's happened since Makeishura and myself began our rule. Before, mortals were enslaved randomly, and forced to serve us, but we gave them their freedom at the beginning of our reign together, as a sign of good faith with the mortal realms. Since that time, the only mortal servants we have retained are those that chose to stay after they were freed. Do you comprehend?"

She nodded, as if to herself. "Yes. We're yours."

"Yes, unlike any mortal in the Court, you and your brother are ours irrevocably. You have offered yourselves to us, and we have accepted you."

She nodded.

"I wish to take you to the library tonight and introduce you to the staff." He rose and she stood as well, obediently. "Let me make this clear to you; your only duties are to tend and organize the library, and further your studies until the time I or Shura decide otherwise. If anyone in the court asks of you something that you are not willing to give, you may make that choice. I say this because -- " Magora paused, framing his words carefully. "Mortal women are rare, and there are some that still think that, as in the old days, they have a right to demand attention from any mortal they fancy."

Kaishi stared at him. She did not blush, he noted, but she fully understood what he was saying. "And if I have this choice, who's to stop such a person from taking what they want?"

Magora nodded. "A wise question. Here is the answer: my protection is about you now. Any immortal can sense it and will respect it."

"And if they don't?"

Magora thought for a moment, for he had never had to think of this possibility. "If they don't respect my property, they will die."

+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=

Kaze now understood what the emperor had meant "enjoy." The lion god was overwhelming him until he could not place where he was until he was guided onto a bed, Shura's mouth giving him incendiary delight beyond anything he could have imagined. He did not struggle, did not think to assert himself; he wanted to be filled with this shivering fire, filled again and again, until he could reach that pinnacle that his body told him was there . . . somewhere.

He closed his eyes, feeling Shura's strong hands pulling the silk down his one arm, a slow thoughtful progress devoid of impatience. Once again that commanding mouth touched him, but this time down his chest, exploring. Kaze gasped, almost shouting when the hand descended and touched him through the remaining silk, a confident and firm cupping and caressing. No on had ever . . . Before he knew it, there was a silky riot of curls sliding through his fingers; he hadn't meant to touch and drew his hands back from Shura's head, causing the emperor to raise up and look at him in puzzlement.

"If you expect me to take you without you touching me, I think we need to discuss your understanding of sex," Shura said in a husky voice, those gold eyes spearing Kaze where he lay. The delectable boy was flushed as it was, and now blushed crimson. "In this chamber you may touch me; I won't take offense."

There was doubt in Kaze's blue eyes, doubt born of innocence. Shura found himself smiling at that look. Mortals were so strange. They didn't have some of the natural instincts immortals were born with. No one had to teach an immortal about bed-play; they just KNEW when the time came.

Sighing, he distracted himself by sliding the last of the silk from the golden body, appreciating the trim musculature. Most people, immortal or mortal, were smaller than Shura; such was the curse of the lion family. So he was not so surprised at Kaze's comparative delicacy; he wasn't much different from of Shura's other lovers. Running a tongue absently over his teeth, he stroked Kaze experimentally and the boy arched back, mouth open in shocked pleasure.

Mortals were certainly more responsive though, he thought, pleased. Tonight's pleasure would not last as long as he was used to, but it would certainly be much more intense.

When he released his belt, letting the kilt slide open and off of him, Kaze's eyes widened; it was fear this time and Shura quickly calmed him with his power. The boy sank back on the bed, placid and lucid, watching him with eyes that were interested but had lost any trepidation.

"What do you do to me?" he whispered. Shura kissed him, and this time Kaze slid arms around him, taking Shura's weight on him. "Is it magic?"

"Yes," the emperor murmured. "The best kind. It's willing magic. If you didn't want what I have given you, the spell would not work." He shifted his hips and groaned appreciatively. Kaze sobbed under him, struggling to rub up against the hardness sliding against his.

"Please -- " He had no idea what he was asking for, but he was sure Shura knew and would give it to him.

"Are all mortals in such a hurry?" Shura wondered aloud, backing off and pulling Kaze's legs up by the knees, so his feet rested against the emperor's shoulder blades. He slid confident fingers along his cleft, found and teased the tight opening there, watching Kaze's eyes widen and the boy shake his head, vague struggle in his eyes. "Have you never done this, even to yourself?"

Kaze panted, then shut his eyes tight, afraid he would begin to truly panic. "No." It was barely a whisper. He knew what was going to happen, but it was going to HURT . . . Shura was so big . . . there was no way . . .

The emperor teased him with knowing fingertips, and said: "There'll be no pain, only pleasure."

Kaze opened his eyes and stared up at the handsome, overwhelming man above him. "No pain . . . " he echoed.

"No pain," Shura suggested, to finish the spell.

And somehow, there wasn't. Those large fingers slid into him, and it didn't even sting. They took him with sure even strokes, sliding against a center of pleasure that made him scream weakly, arching.

"That's better," Shura growled. "You like that, do you?"

Kaze couldn't even speak. Did he LIKE it? Such a paltry word to describe this feeling, as if he would incinerate with ecstasy. And he was so HARD, like never before, and that was pleasure and frustration, a pulsing, growing need he couldn't quite satisfy.

"More?"

Kaze panted. "Please!"

Shura shifted, withdrawing his fingers, replacing them with his length, a shaft that opened him further and filled him as Shura took him and ENJOYED him.

***********

The great library was necessarily near the Court; it was built on the north side on a rise. Kaishi followed behind her emperor, head down. It gave her the excuse not to meet the stares of others, and to not look out upon the expanse of this otherness where she was, familiar and yet not.

She was worried about Kaze, not that she thought he was in any specific danger, but that she could sense his confusion . . . and there was something else that she couldn't put her finger on, a yielding that was unlike anything she had felt from him in the past. She was afraid to consider what she suspected of Kaze's whereabouts this night, and knew she could never ask Emperor Magora if it were true, if her twin was sleeping with Emperor Shura.

They ascended a wide staircase of white marble, through arching doors and an echoing vault-like antechamber that led, through smaller doors, into the library itself.

She stopped in amazement, eyes wide.

It was a mess.

There were rolled manuscripts, bound books and portfolios strewn over desks, chairs and tables. Stone shelves were filled to capacity, and overflowing with books of every conceivable size, shape and color, with no discernable organization.

Kaishi almost winced.

Emperor Magora paused, glancing back with a small smile. "As you see, we have no dedicated librarian," he said. "We have a staff that picks up as they can, and a few hobbyists that will, from time to time, attempt to put things in order."

That's no way to run a library, she wanted to say, but kept her mouth closed. However, Magora could see the response in her eyes. "This is no easy task, and I expect to get an incredible quality of work from you," he said. "Do you think you will be capable?"

She gazed at the wealth of words, stories, chronicles, poetry that surrounded her, and even in its disarray, it seemed beautiful to her, an endless possibility.

"Yes," she said, embracing it.

The staff appeared, prostrating themselves promptly at Magora's feet, and behind them came Kin'nara, who bowed his head. Kaishi, who had been boldly looking at the mixture of mortal and immortal servants, dropped her eyes in consternation, her heart jumping at the sight of that slender pale form with its curtain of golden hair and blue-blue eyes.

"Reading?" Magora asked him, and Kin'nara nodded. "My servant Kaishi will be organizing the library the best she can," the emperor explained and motioned the servants to stand. "That is her only duty, is to create a system of organization, and place books where they can be accessed. You will aid her as you can, and do her bidding as it falls within your duties."

Kaishi glanced up, focusing on the servants who were looking at her obediently. She dared not look at Kin'nara, but could feel his gaze on her, despite herself.

Whatever she was feeling, she didn't want to feel it. It wasn't infatuation and awe; it was deeper, wider and more overwhelming, a little like what she felt for her brother . . .

Except that this feeling frightened her.

**********

Kaze had long ago stopped thinking and had given himself up to Shura completely. He no longer cared if this was a god and an emperor, something beyond holy and divine, or that he, Kaze, had come into this ignorant and inexperienced. He didn't care about anything except THIS, this moment, this feeling of being so absolutely overpowered by something greater than he was, this sensuous enslavement to his own body.

He could feel the silk underneath him, clenched in his fists as if to anchor him in reality. The hard, driving body pushed in and out of him, relentless, pressing him down and making him whimper and gasp . . . he had long since closed his eyes, unable to bear the magnificence of it. Each hot slide sent a shudder of a glowing ecstasy through him, flashing straight up his spine into his brain, making him twitch and arch back into the silks beneath him. He could not stop the helpless sounds coming from his throat and had ceased trying.

The emperor was murmuring words to him, some he understood, others he could not make out . . . soft instructions in an erotic language he had never learned, words sibilant and guttural which urged his pleasure onward, made him reach for the broad-shouldered lover, not caring if the larger body crushed him as long as it was close to his, those hands stroking him towards paradise.

When he found it, his screams could be heard down the hallway and caused more than one servant outside of the emperors' chambers to smile knowingly and a little enviously.

+=+=+=+=+=+=+=

When Magora returned to the "conjugal" suite, making his way to his own door, he paused in the semi-darkness, surprised to see Shura sitting in the shadows.

"Done already?" he asked conversationally.

"Mortals wear out so easily," Shura said with a broad smile. "How was it with the sister?"

"She seemed content with her duties in the library. Why are you out here?"

"Thinking."

Magora waited in silence but Shura did not continue. Just as he was about to turn toward his door again, Shura began to speak again.

"Are you . . . happy with things the way they are?"

Magora frowned. "Happy with . . . what? Our rule?"

"Yes, I suppose . . . ruling together, all of this --" Shura waved vaguely about them. "Are you happy?"

Magora wondered at the question, but answered as truthfully as he could. "I am content." There were other things under his answer, things Shura understood without being told, the obligations to their families, families who had been warring for so long that they suspected every slightest move of the other as potential treachery.

"Just "content"?"

Magora sighed, drawing his robe about his slender frame. "How am I to answer differently? I am not unhappy. We have done well, being who we are."

Shura stood slowly, and a faint trickle of unease made Magora watch him warily as he approached. He and Shura clashed on many things, and had argued on more than a few subjects, but Shura had never deliberately invaded his space as he was doing now.

"He wanted you, you know," Shura said.

Magora blinked at the strange shift in subject, then he smiled. "Ah, but he wanted you more."

"Did he?" Shura stared at the dragon emperor intently. "Did he really?"

Magora was silent, figuring that whatever he said would be misconstrued. "Shura, what are you doing?" he said after a moment pregnant stillness, where neither moved.

"I was wondering . . . "

Magora waited, while his heart sped up at the intensity of Shura's eyes. "Wondering?"

"They prophesized a true partnership of emperors, you remember? Two halves of a whole."

"It seems pure hubris to think we are the ones prophesized," Magora protested softly. "It's not possible for us."

"Why is it impossible? Are we two different races? Do we have two different goals?"

"You know why," Magora reminded him gently.

"Dragon and phoenix? Is that all there ever was?"

"Yes, forever and forever." Magora managed a faint smile. "Though it is like you to dream of something better."

Shura's laugh was bitter. "I really despise your dragon-realism, you know that?" He backed away, and Magora breathed deeply, feeling as if some calamity had been narrowly avoided.

"But you know --" Shura said over his shoulder as he returned to his room, "I think you're wrong. I think the differences between dragon and phoenix aren't so great.

"But maybe that's just my phoenix-optimism."

Magora watched him shut the door behind him, closed his eyes and drew in another deep breath. "Shura, " he whispered. "It's only a dream. It can never be."

Saying it aloud did not make it easier to accept, even for a dragon.

Chapter Three:

"He'll seduce you, and then he'll convince you do things his way," Phoenix Lord Takibi said flatly. "Don't be deceived; that's how the dragons work. He'll find some way to subvert all your good intentions to his will, and you'll be happy to do it."

"Dragons are taught from the cradle the erotic arts," Lord Washii agreed.

Shura considered these two phoenix elders, chin in his hand, eyes bored and glazed. The same tune, over and over.

"Be that as it may," he growled. "Magora has never tried. Actually, I don't even think he goes for bigger men."

The two elders looked at each other.

"Your Excellency, be very careful. They are a cunning race. Even allowing that Emperor Magora has no particular interest in seducing you, you must realize the influence of his family on the decisions he makes."

Shura rolled his eyes. "Look, I'll do as you say. I'll be cautious. However, Magora isn't a seducer. Not in the way you mean. He's very . . . staid."

The two looked at him as if he had just produced a frog from his mouth.

"He is. He won't even . . . well, he doesn't like people being close to him in public, even when it's just the two of us. I wouldn't worry."

"I wouldn't worry, Your Graciousness, unless his family tells him to make an effort."

=+=+=+=+=+=

In Ryugu, the Dragon sector of Heaven, Magora was dealing something similar.

Magora sighed. "Shura isn't my type."

"Stripling, of course he's your type," his mother, the Princess Ryo, snapped. "You were meant for each other from your birth."

She'd been saying that since who knows how long, and still Magora never really understood what she meant by that. Just because the possibility of them being co-rulers had been speculated upon since their childhoods hardly made them 'made for each other.'

He shrugged. "Honorable Mother, it doesn't change the fact that I feel nothing for him."

His silver-haired mother frowned slightly, puzzled. "Nothing at all?"

He murmured an affirmative and yawned. "Besides which, if I did want him, I would have to make an appointment. I don't think there's a single male in Eternity he hasn't bedded."

"It's understandable. That's how phoenixes are . . . and lions for that matter. He had it from both sides. Little One, if you would only try to like him -- think of the possibilities of having him under your thumb. Besides which, if we don't move, who know what he'll take as a consort? Those insipid cranes are throwing their most handsome at him as we speak."

"The rest of the family tells me to keep away from him, and here you are trying to make a match. What is it with you, Mother?"

"The prophecy . . . "

"Not that again. He brought that up the other night as well. It's an unrealistic idea at best." Magora wasn't as casual about it as he acted. The same thought from two entirely different sources was unnerving. "And even if it was possible, having him "under my thumb" as it were would defeat the whole idea of equality now, wouldn't it?"

His mother gave him an exasperated look.

"Just like your father," the lady accused, ending the conversation in the traditional manner of laying blame on his genes. It was easier than trying to argue with him.

The family meetings had to be taken care of earlier this day because there was a festival beginning that afternoon, which ran for five solar days, and both emperors would have to preside over it. On this date every year, the two emperors opened a portal and bridge (simply called the Bridge of Heaven) to Mount Takachihi on the mortal plane and there the gods existed in the Celestial Palace for five days, available for mortal requests and celebrating with their human allies.

It was a considerable amount of work on the parts of the generals, since security was their main issue during this time. Sanji, under Baksha's orders, had sent a crew a week earlier to secure the palace, which stood empty most of the year, and erect a temporary barrier. Servants followed to make it livable. Most of the older immortals refused to attend the festival, uncomfortable in a plane not their own and leery of mortal behavior. Despite its charm, the Celestial Palace was rather primitive by Eternity standards, and although open-minded people like Shura would endure the conditions, many chose not to.

Therefore, this particular festival was often an opportunity for the younger immortals to escape the rigid restrictions of their elders. This led to interesting pairings among them; escaping their families often led to many also escaping the uncompromising strictures of who could sleep with whom. The female immortals mingled freely there as well, and usually some intimate alliances were created. The elder immortals and their mortal allies called this The Assembly of the Gods, but among the younger immortals this event was known as Ai no Matsuri -- Love's Festival.

Magora's esteemed mother knew this all too well. She herself disdained the event on the grounds that she couldn't stand the less luxurious Palace, but she understood what went on, for her spies were everywhere. In general, the timing of the talk about Shura was not surprising to her son. He imagined that most sons and daughters were being subjected to such talks, Shura among them.

The Ai no Matsuri wasn't quite the orgy that the elders imagined. After all, there were mortal sensibilities to deal with, and alliances being formed, but it was more promiscuous than any other festival when the lights were dimmed. Ryo-hime's injunction for Magora to "get to like" Shura came at --what she thought--- an importune time. With the liberal atmosphere of the Assembly not half a day away, she could hope that such seeds might bear fruit eventually, although having lived with Magora's father, she understood the latent stubbornness hidden under that pale elegant exterior.

She understood that in all things, Magora kept to his own pace.

+=+=+=+=+=+=+=

Truth be told, Kaishi was glad to stay behind. First and foremost, she was consumed by the library and the promise of five days wherein her brother and many others would not be around to bother her and distract her. Also, the idea of being around a lot of amorous gods and humans who seemed to view the festival as a sex free-for-all didn't sit well with her personality. She'd rather be getting things done.

Kaze, of course, was going as part of the emperors' train. Shura was keeping him close by. Kaishi suspected half the time Kaze's "duties" were being performed in the bedroom, but since her brother seemed content in the situation, she did not complain. She was not the kind of person to force her way of life on others, having understood that she was an oddity herself.

"Five days straight in that musty place?" Kaze asked, as he packed up his few garments for the lower servants to move to the Palace. "You won't be lonely, will you?"

"Five days are nothing," she said.

"Hm. I guess not, not with books around. But then, you know, Kin'nara will be around too."

She looked up from her writing, frowning. "What did you say?"

"I said Kin'nara's staying. He isn't going to the Assembly." Noticing his sister's interest, he grinned. "The emperor told me. Kin'nara never goes. Something about him being set in his ways, or something like that. Do you know -- he's older than most of them? No one knows exactly how old. The old ones never go. It's a new festival and most of them don't like uprooting, even if it's just five days."

"Maybe they don't want to be seduced in some dark corner."

Kaze laughed. "That's the best part of the Assembly -- what goes on after everyone supposedly goes to bed. I've heard some really interesting stories."

She shrugged and went back to her writing.

"You like Kin'nara, don't you?" he asked.

She didn't look up.

"Well, he's really gorgeous. I'd like him too if he wasn't so cold."

"My brother, the sex fanatic."

Kaze grinned unrepentantly. "One of these days you'll understand."

She lifted a brow at him. "Is this the 'One day you'll find someone and get married and have ten babies' speech?"

"No, it's the 'One day you'll find someone and have the sudden urge to throw him on the ground' speech."

Both brows went up. "A new speech. How does this one go in its entirety?"

"Let's see. Well, it starts like Mama Chan's speech. You know: it's unnatural for a girl like you to not find some young man you like . . . yadda yadda."

Kaishi laughed. "Go on."

"Some day you're going to turn around and there he'll be, the ONE . . . "

"Yadda yadda."

"You'll stare into each others' eyes, and you'll get this feeling, like wouldn't it be nice to shove this guy on the ground and have your way with him."

"Oh? Is that how it is? Tell on, oh wise one."

"You imagine him chained to a wall, or cuffed to the end of a nice big bed --"

"Are you sure this isn't a speech I should be making to YOU?"

"Shut up. Where was I? Oh, yes. You imagine him in a hundred helpless situations, and you imagine tearing his clothes off --"

"Tearing? Wouldn't it be more civil to --"

"Love isn't civil! Young lady, who has put such notions in your head?! Love is violent! Love is just a slightly more tender version of lust! Now, dear child --"

Kaishi snickered.

"Love makes you want to throw caution to the wind and attack him in some dark, secluded place or just plain fuck him silly in the daylight and see his eyes go like this." Kaze opened his eyes wide, doing a poor imitation of someone looking helpless and stupefied at the same time.

"What a horrible expression! It turns me off immediately."

"Poor poor deluded child! What am I to do with you?"

Luckily the servant came in for Kaze's meager belongings, and Kaishi was spared the longer version.

But it made her smile to remember it.

+=+=+=+=+=+=+=

The guards went first, then the servants, the lower ranked families following. The higher court preceded the emperor's through the bridge, and Magora and Shura came behind in a flash of light, their closer servants, guards and retainers about them.

Kaishi saw them leave from one of the high turrets, and noticed that Kin'nara was one of the elders who knelt in the courtyard below until the glow faded from their departure. Then, like ghosts, they drifted silently to different destinations.

Was Kaze right? Did she like Kin'nara? Maybe she was being unseemly. If her twin had noticed, she could hope that no one else had, and curtail herself in the future.

She supposed it wasn't good for her dignity to be added to the long list of worshippers. A mortal among immortal would-be lovers . . . a pathetic thought.

She would spend her time in the library, and try to think of him as some remote beautiful icon . . . you couldn't pine for an icon. Admire, yes.

After all this time, it would be sad to find that her protected heart was given in vain.

+=+=+=+=+=+=+=

Magora was settling into his rooms when a servant announced that General Baksha had arrived. The slender emperor turned in surprise from supervising the last of the unpacking, and smiled as the kirin warrior strode in and bowed.

Baksha and Sanji were of the same family, and close cousins, so they were often compared to each other physically, although there were many differences in personality. Both were tall, broad-shouldered men, with the long, blue-black and straight hair found often in the kirin genes. If left loose, their hair would be the same length, but Baksha, the more conservative of the two, kept his secured in a high tail while Sanji let his go where it would most of the time. Baksha was the lighter skinned of the two, and his intense eyes were blacker than the Void. His face was often called grave, and carried a mature and authoritative expression, the features carved in strong lines too dramatic to be called elegant. Baksha often gave the impression that he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, and was ready to shoulder more, if necessary. On the other hand, Sanji was acknowledged to be the more handsome of the two, his skin a golden bronze, his eyes a striking, contrasting blue. There was an understated elegance in the shape of his high-cheeked face, with its strong features and thin lips. Although he took his duties very seriously, Sanji was able to enjoy life when not working, which was something Baksha had a hard time doing. Baksha seemed forever on duty.

"Welcome back," the emperor murmured fondly. "I thought you would not make it this time."

"I won't forsake . . . my emperor's safety," the general said, and Magora sighed, hearing what Baksha had avoided saying. Time was when they were beyond formalities, but that was before Magora had ascended the throne with Shura, and since that time the dutiful kirin would not call him by his more personal name. That was kirin honor for you.

"And your son -- is he well?"

Baksha nodded gratefully. "Yes, thank you. My sisters are taking care of him."

"I'm sure he's the perfect little warrior. Have you picked a name?"

"Dainichi. It was his mother's wish."

Magora nodded.

After a moment of silence, Baksha ventured: "And has Your Excellency been . . . well?"

"Well enough." Magora waved the servants out, and suppressed a bitter smile. True to dragon nature, few heard the truth when they asked too casually. Magora did not like to expose his heart and make himself vulnerable.

"I was told there were two mortals --"

"Yes. Shura has taken the boy under his wing, and I've sent the girl to serve in the library. They are -- diverting, to say the least."

Baksha opened his mouth, but shut it quickly and backed away just in time for Shura to enter, his stride purposeful.

"Magora! Are you still laired up in here? We're expected down in the main hall.

"Ah, Baksha. Good to see you about."

"Your Excellency."

"Of course you are right," Magora murmured. "The festivities cannot begin without us." He put his hand over Shura's extended one, a parody of the royal lady's acceptance of aid and Shura grinned at the picture he imagined they made.

Sometimes rumors would fly about concerning him and Magora, after times when they seemed more at ease with each other, but it never got any closer than this . . . when Magora's teasing nature briefly surfaced, revealing a part of the dragon emperor few ever saw . . . an elegant, sly-eyed tease who liked to make people wonder.

Perhaps that was why the phoenix lords kept perpetually warning him about Magora. Maybe they too could sense a possibility there. The dragon emperor was so layered upon himself, so hidden under etiquette and mannerisms that no one was quite sure what Magora really felt, leaving some minds open to suspicion.

Baksha followed them down to the Celestial Palace's main hall, where the young immortals waited for their emperors to open the palace to the mortal plane. Shura escorted Magora to his chair before sitting in his own and their subjects gave a roar of approval, something they never did in the Court of Eternity, where their elders' stern strictures kept such enthusiasm in check.

Baksha stepped forward and announced: "With the will of our Glorious Lords, this Assembly shall now begin. What is your will, Excellencies?"

"We begin the Assembly," Shura said, after glancing over for Magora's affirmation. "We lower the shields and fully enter this dimension. Open the gates, and let our allies in."

A surge of power seemed to swell and break. The skies outside the open-air balconies took on the particular blue and white of the mortal plane of existence, and outside, the imperial guards pulled open the stone gates. Beyond them, drums pounded as the mortal entourages moved in.

"Music," Magora ordered, as Shura took his hand and led him down the steps to the main floor. Immortals parted for them as they proceeded out into the courtyard to greet their guests.

And thus began the Assembly.

Chapter Four

"I hear there was an interesting situation between you and a crane lord the other night," Baksha stated. "How did that come about?"

Sanji gave his cousin a nonchalant glance as they stood together, overseeing the hall. "I had an instinct that he was aiming for Shura to alienate Magora's family, so I intercepted him. No harm done. He'll probably try again sometime during the festival, if I read his character correctly."

"Is he here?"

They stood above the main floor, observing the mingling of mortal and immortal lords, princes, kings and emperors, and even a growing number of female nobility as well. Sanji searched the crowd for white hair, spotting a few cranes before he spotted Tsuru attached to some larger man's arm, a phoenix from the look of him, his head canted in as he listened to the conversation with a few other immortals. He really was rather beautiful.

"There," he said, pointing him out to his cousin, "with the long white hair."

"Pretty," Baksha commented clinically. "Seems to like bigger men."

Sanji shrugged.

"Heard he made a play for you in the wide open. That takes some nerve."

"He considered me second best at the time," Sanji muttered.

"Stings, doesn't it?"

Sanji gave his cousin a startled look. "What makes you say that?"

"A pretty thing like that . . . you'd want to look at you like you were the first and only choice. Of course, if he has a taste for powerful men, a kirin can hardly compete, general or no."

"You're reading a lot into this, you know," Sanji said dryly. "Are you sure you're not talking from experience?"

Baksha gave him a stern look. "My point is that if he's conniving his way to the imperial bed, he's hardly going to want to be distracted by a no-account kirin."

"That stands to reason."

"Then why did he make a play for you?"

Sanji blinked and shrugged. "I was there."

"Hardly complimentary," Baksha grunted. He turned to receive a report from a lower-ranked guard, leaving Sanji leaning on the railing and watching Tsuru as he leaned against the phoenix lord . . . damn, which one was it . . . one of Shura's cousins. The family resemblance was there, the size, the bright red hair.

Being a little obvious, aren't we, Pretty One? he thought wryly.

He forgot that Tsuru was a truthsayer. The crane's head lifted and he looked straight up at him with mild violet eyes-- no mere coincidence. Truthsayers were telepathic; that was the root of their ability. For a brief moment the passive, innocent expression altered, and Sanji could see the keen intelligence behind those eyes. Tsuru gave him a little smile, then turned back to his lord, breathing something in his ear. The lord nodded, and Tsuru released his arm and began to make his way towards the stairway.

The stairway to the upper level.

Sanji cursed.

Baksha joined him, lifting a brow when he saw the cause of his cousin's dismay. "Looks like he's been distracted again. Wonder why that is?"

"It's not what you think."

"You don't know what I think. I know only one thing. If he uses you to get to the emperor, luscious little piece or no, he'll regret the day he laid eyes on you."

Sanji looked at Baksha, speechless in surprise, as Tsuru approached. The crane bowed to him and Baksha, and Sanji, out of politeness, made the introductions.

"Lord Tsuru, this is Kirin Lord Birubaksha, my second in command, and my cousin. Baksha, this is Crane Lord Tsurukusha."

They bowed to each other.

"How do you find the festivities so far?" Baksha asked Tsuru, making polite small talk.

"Diverting enough," the truthsayer murmured, which Sanji took to mean "tedious at best." "I look forward to tonight's entertainment."

"I imagine most people are," Sanji said.

"I wondered, Lord Sanji . . . when are you not on duty?"

"Is that a general question, or do you want specific times?"

Baksha grunted a laugh and Tsuru's purple eyes lit up in amusement. "I was hoping to catch you when you weren't busy."

"I thought rather you'd want to catch someone else when I wasn't on duty."

Tsuru took the direct hit without a blink. "That, of course, would be optimum, but I'll settle for your company." The tone was dry.

"What -- a phoenix lord not diverting enough?"

Tsuru sighed, his mouth tightening a bit. Sanji knew he'd gone a bit too far on that one. "Lord Sanji, if you would prefer I leave, that is easily done. I did not think you would find my company that loathsome, but perhaps I was mistaken."

"My apologies, Lord Tsuru, that was uncalled for. Perhaps I should rephrase it. I thought you had arrangements already."

The crane smiled slightly. "Not that I was aware of. Not every man I'm with is a bed mate."

Baksha raised his eyebrows at Sanji and Sanji could only try to breathe normally. So Tsuru was after more than conversation, was he?

"Lord Tsuru, I'd willingly meet you when I'm off duty, if I felt that your motives weren't suspicious, and if you weren't more than half my age."

"My motives are very simple, General. The simplest there are. And as for my age, I think that should not be a factor for what I have in mind."

Baksha was chuckling softly. "I have duties to perform," he said, obviously feeling that the conversation was a little too intimate for an audience. "A pleasure meeting you."

Tsusu nodded at his exit, then turned calculating and seductive eyes on Sanji. "Well?"

Sanji looked at him, assessing all the little intricacies and possibilities in what Tsuru was proposing. Finally, he said: "I'm off at the third hour tomorrow, but I make no promises. Meet me in the south gardens, then. If you don't come, I'll know you've come to your senses."

A glowing smile lit Tsuru's face so brilliantly, Sanji wondered why he didn't truly smile more often. "General Sanji, I'd be out of my senses if I DIDN'T go, not the other way around." With that, he took his leave.

Sanji took a deep breath and wondered at his own sanity. What if Tsuru's family had told him: "If you can't seduce the emperor, seduce his general."?

But, a slyer part of his mind whispered, who was he to resist such a creature, if it was what Tsuru wanted?

Why not take what is offered?

Just protect your heart.

+=+=+=+=+=+=+=

The arrangements of the imperial rooms at the Celestial Palace were such that the two chambers were joined by a common bathing room. So it wasn't that surprising when Magora entered Shura's room through the bath to find Kaze sitting by the window, looking bored.

"Where is Emperor Shura?" Magora asked him. Kaze quickly slid down from his perch, preparing to prostrate himself, but Magora waved it off.

"I don't know, Your Excellency. He told me to wait here until he sent word."

The sun had set not too long before, and it surprised Magora that Shura would limit Kaze to his room at such an hour, when mischief was stirring . . .

Or perhaps it was to protect the mortal from such mischief.

"Serve me in the bath," Magora said.

Kaze blinked, but followed obediently, despite his confusion. There were usually plenty of servants under foot, but they all seemed to have disappeared.
"Do you know how to braid hair?" Magora asked, pausing by the bathing pool.

"Yes. I've braided my sister's."

"Good." The dragon emperor shifted the green silk robe he was wearing and sat on a stool near the tiled wall, turning his back to Kaze. "Braid it."

"Yes, Your Excellency." Kneeling, he pulled the long swath of silky silver hair from Magora's shoulders, until it was smoothly falling down his back, then carefully partitioned off the hair in three sections. His hands were trembling, but he did his best, praying that he wouldn't pull too hard in his anxiety. He understood Emperor Shura, had grown accustomed to following his orders, but Magora was still a complete mystery to him in many ways, so different from Shura.

Where Shura forced, Magora yielded.

Where Shura was bright, Magora was pale.

Where Shura was straight forward, Magora was unreadable.

Where Shura was heavy-handed, Magora was graceful.

Where Shura seduced . . . Magora merely . . . waited?

It was a lot of hair, beautiful as it was, and it took some time to braid it to the very end. When he finished, Magora handed him a bit of silk to tie it off.

"Have you bathed Shura?" Magora asked.

"Yes, Your Excellency."

It took Magora only a meaningful look for Kaze to understand. He got up to get the soap and sponge and nearly started when he heard the unmistakable sound of the emperor's silk robe sliding to the tiles behind him.

This is normal, he told himself. Servants do this every day.

But it seemed so absolutely surreal. It was one thing to bathe someone who knew you intimately anyway; it was another to have to touch and look at beauty that was not yours to possess.

"Take off your clothes," the emperor said.

Kaze turned, bringing the supplies with him. He set them down and obeyed, without looking at Magora sitting naked on the stool now. If Magora was watching, he didn't want to know. He folded his clothes and set them aside, then took the low bucket by the pool, and dipped it into the hot water, bringing it to set it by the other supplies. He returned to his place behind the emperor, only raising his eyes when he could no longer avoid it.

Magora had pulled his long braid over his shoulder, leaving his back completely bare. It had to be the most perfect back in all creation, Kaze thought dazedly, reaching down and retrieving the sponge and soap. The skin was almost perfectly white, almost pearly, with the faintest pinkish tinge. Despite his slenderness, Magora's form was hardly as feminine as Kaze had imagined. Yes, he was slender, and the skin was smooth, the waist narrow, but there were distinctive muscles under the skin, and the shoulders were just a bit too wide to be a woman's.

It took Kaze's complete control to casually wash those shoulders and work his way down to the waist without letting his hands go where they wanted to go. The buttocks were the hardest -- perfect, pale and softly rounded -- the sponge curved around them how Kaze's desire wished his palms could.

He reached for the basin for the first rinse and nearly flipped it over when Shura walked in.

"Kaze, are you--?" Kaze never thought to see Emperor Shura look so stunned, nor embarrassed. The phoenix emperor stopped as if he had struck a wall, eyes momentarily wide and fixed on Magora's pale nakedness. Then he did a strange thing; he turned away and said to the opposite direction: "Pardon. I was looking for Kaze."

The mortal in question glanced at Magora's expression. The dragon emperor looked faintly amused. "I have released the servants for the night and am borrowing Kaze. However, if you need him . . . "

"A-ah, no . . . that's all right. I was just going to change and leave again. He's free to do as he wishes tonight."

Kaze stared at Shura's back in dismay. He had hoped -- well, no use thinking of what he'd hoped.

"Leaving the poor child to his own devices in this maze of erotic predators?" There was laughter in Magora's voice. "You must have tasty prey already in mind."

Shura cleared his throat. "A-anyway, I'll go change now." He left swiftly, without so much as a backward glance.

Kaze hung his head in dejection. Magora's light hand slipped through his hair softly, making him aware that he was being a little too obvious. "Never you mind, Kaze. Although I imagine Shura is marvelous in his own right, there are many of lesser rank who have equal beauty and twice the fidelity." The fingers traced under his hair to his nape and Kaze shivered.

He forced himself to pick up the basin and rinse off Magora's back, careful not to wet the hair at his nape, or let it splash forward and douse the braid. Taking up the sponge again, he walked in front of the emperor. This was the most awkward part, and the memories of doing this with Shura, who would playfully grab at him, making him drop the sponge, or would pull him between his legs and fondle him while he attempted to wash that wonderfully hard expanse of golden flesh -- he had to stop thinking on it. There was no comparison.

Magora took his braid out of the way and Kaze leaned over and began at the shoulders once more. Not half so wide an expanse, which made the job easier. Magora neither moved nor spoke, and Kaze tried to imagine bathing a statue of white marble, except that this marble yielded slightly under the strokes of the sponge. When he got to the waist, he wondered what he was going to do. Magora sat with knees together, and did not alter that stance, so Kaze progressed down his legs to his feet (even his feet were elegant!) and was doing an awkward business of the back of the legs, when Magora stood, solving the problem. He washed the areas he had not been able to access before, the back of the calves up to the thighs, and avoided re-doing the buttocks because he well knew he wanted to, too much. Finally he knew he was done but for one area, which he wasn't sure Magora wanted to be bathed or no, so he glanced up to see if he could deduce the emperor's wishes.

Magora was looking down at him, a little smile making his cold face frighteningly accessible. "That's fine," he said, with a little touch to Kaze's hair. "Rinse me off."

Breathing a sigh of relief, he went to the pool for another basin of hot water, and returned. He focused on the shoulder, which he deemed the safest place to look, but had to eventually look lower. But this was no Shura; Magora was not even a little amorous, apparently, though his pink-tinged whiteness was reflected there as well, and he was no mean length, a sword to Shura's club, as it were.

He had to smile at himself at the image as he knelt to finish the rinsing.

"And what is that smile for?" Magora asked in a gentle voice.

Kaze blushed.

+=+=+=+=+=+=

Shura finished dressing and was on his way out when a niggling idea stopped him. The bath was suspiciously quiet. Silently he walked up to the bathroom door, pleased to see that it was slightly ajar, and carefully eased his head from the side to see into the room.

Magora, perfect and nude, was urging an equally perfect and nude Kaze to his feet. This in itself was worth the reconnaissance -- Shura firmly believed that Magora was the most beautiful of immortal males, and Kaze the most beautiful of mortal males. Anyone could appreciate such an image.

Then something happened that made his eyes widen and his breath hitch. Magora put out a languid hand and caressed the side of Kaze's face, briefly entangling his fingers in the long copper hair before urging the boy toward him. Shura knew what came next, remembering the night they had both kissed Kaze, waiting to see whom he preferred. Magora TWINED -- that was the only term for it. With sinuous, long-armed grace, he slid about Kaze until the poor boy could only surrender, moaning.

Shura felt a bit like moaning himself at the sight. No one was permitted to view Magora's conquests but for those he conquered, and they were forever silent of the subject, so it was with much speculation that the court imagined how he was in bed.

Magora released Kaze, who was gasping audibly and looking much a like a mouse before a snake, if a mouse ever yearned for its own consumption. Long, white fingers traced over the shape of the mortal's mouth reflectively, then played briefly with the hair by his ear before dropping to his shoulder lightly. They were looking straight into each other's eyes, and Shura wondered what was being communicated at that close range.

He didn't wonder long. Kaze, without hesitation or show of trepidation, slid to his knees before the dragon emperor, his intention perfectly clear. This afforded Shura with an unobstructed view of Magora's expression, which up to this point had been shadowed by Kaze. That little smile, those long, green eyes half-lidded and almost slumberous, made Shura bite his lip and want to shove a hand down his pants to encourage a sudden, acute arousal. Magora was just too damned gorgeous for his own good.

He was privileged to see Magora lose that smile, the eyes slowly close as Kaze leaned forward and nuzzled Magora's length, his hands sliding about the emperor's hips to caress his buttocks with slow clenching motions. When Kaze took Magora into his mouth, Shura could see it in the dragon's face, in the sudden intake of breath and a pale pink that tinged his high cheeks.

The answering pulse in his own groin urged him away from the door before he lost his control completely. Let them play as they would. He had better game afoot, he told himself. There was nothing here that could not be had anywhere else.

Except for that expression.

That expression would haunt him.

+=+=+=+=+=+=

Kompera was one of the few elders who attended the Assembly. Some assigned this for his empathy with mortals, who were thick during this particular festival. Others said his rebellious nature led him to attend, simply because he was not expected to do so.

Whatever the reason, there was always a stir when he arrived, among mortals and immortals alike. His green eyes and fair skin heralded him a dragon, but his blue-black hair and broad shoulders said kirin. Like Shura, he was a little of both sides. Unlike Shura, Kompera had had to win his place in a time when half-breeds were belittled and scorned. He had taken a mortal lover when such things were considered nothing short of bestiality.

He was Magora's cousin, infinitely removed, and similarly connected with Baksha. But his true core of notoriety was his abilities at sorcery, particularly spells of transformation, and his willingness to help petitioners, mortal and immortal, using such spells.

Therefore, when he entered the mortal guest quarters there was a stir among the experienced guards who recognized him. They bowed and prostrated themselves, calling him all sorts of complicated titles in their thick accents. By these actions and words, he knew that to them he was a god.

Their king swept in then . . . a new king, but Kompera recognized him from the previous assembly --- the son of the latter king. He was offered wine and food, and lovely young girls and boys appeared to see to his every whim. He waved them away.

"I have not visited the mortal realm in many a year," he told the young king, as they sat together. "I am curious to know the state of affairs in the Four Realms, and how our reign in heaven has affected human existence."

This mild request, of course, was translated by the mortal brain as a command, so the king, Tenno -- Kompera recalled -- replied obediently: "We are at peace, though I imagine my father would have spit on such a peace as this. There is a monthly council of kings and advisors, with representatives from the larger towns and villages attending."

"This was the mandate set down by Their Graciousnesses."

"Yes. Such was the agreement, that we set up councils, otherwise we would receive no aid from heaven."

"Is it a difficult system?"

Tenno paused, as if searching for the right words. Like his father before him, his hair and eyes were a dark, rich brown that recalled the very loam of the earth, and the darkness in the eyes often lent Tenno and his people a secretiveness of expression Kompera found disturbing.

"For the old warriors, it is difficult. They have had to relearn a new way of thinking. Personally, I am minded to accept peace over conquest -- for the good of the country in general."

"And what do you think of our two emperors? Are they tyrants? Do the people hate them?"

Tenno's frown was one of puzzlement. "Hate them? Is that possible to hate such perfect beings? It's like hating the sun or the moon. What would be the point?"

Kompera laughed. "I see. You've seen them now, in accord. What do you think?"

"My father always said that where dragon and phoenix breathed the same air, surely disaster would follow. Therefore I was astonished at the agreement between the two. They seem to . . . synch, despite other differences of style or personality. Perhaps because they're the same age?"

"Actually, they're not the same age," Kompera commented. "Shura is older by a decade."

Tenno received the wine from a servant, his reaction lost in the bend of his head. "Have you met my sister, yet?"

"Just like your father -- throwing women in my path."

"We can always hope to strengthen the line," Tenno replied with a slight smile, bordering on an outright smirk.

"Perhaps tomorrow. Tonight I have business. One last thing -- you said they were 'perfect.' What did you mean by that?"

"In every way, they are perfect as gods and emperors, as rulers."

"Could one rule without the other?"

Tenno shook his head in the negative immediately. "No. They compliment each other."

Kompera left the quarters very well satisfied with Tenno's assessment. The plan that had begun with Princess Ryo's pregnancy with Magora seemed to be following the lines set for it. They had dreamed vainly of seeing the prophecy fulfilled one day -- perhaps it was no longer just a dream.

He grinned as he strode through the palace. Well, all they could do was watch Fate --with a little help from them-- guide the two emperors.

+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=

Could this really be happening? Magora's light hand in his hair, guiding him; the soft heat and hardness in his mouth growing impossibly rigid but never releasing . . . Kaze closed his eyes and dedicated himself to these sensations, and the emperor's firmness under his hands.

Perfect.

Magora's soft sigh and slight push with his hands let Kaze know to stop and back off, although truthfully he didn't want to. He made the slow slide of that wonderful member from his mouth the slowest possible progress, letting it slip from his lips with sigh.

"I can definitely see why Shura values you," the dragon emperor said with a faint smile.

Kaze could only gaze at him, mute and dazed. Magora motioned him up and onto the bathing stool and was halfway through washing him when Kaze realized what he was doing, his sense of propriety making him open his mouth to protest. His timing, however, was problematic, for he was quickly silenced by the sensation of Magora's long hands slowly and thoroughly soaping his erection. He panted instead and did not protest when the emperor had him stand, and finished the back of his legs.

He took long, deep breaths as he felt Magora stand to his full height behind him, his hands trailing upwards as well, one finally snaking around his waist to caress him, the other massaging his buttock. Kaze closed his eyes in anticipation, dreading that the emperor's touches were not leading anywhere, and let out a startled breath as a slick finger slid between his cheeks and lightly touched his opening. He consciously willed himself to relax as Magora's finger pressed into him, the long nail barely scratching him. Then he groaned, unable to help himself, when the triple stimulation of that, the emperor's hand tightening on his length and the faint nip of teeth at his nape all combined to seduce him.

"Kaze," the emperor murmured against his neck. "What do you want?"

Kaze panted helplessly. Shura had never asked him open-ended questions at a time like this and he wasn't sure if he could form a sentence in answer. It had never been a problem to gasp out 'yes' and 'please.'

"Anything," he managed. "Anything you want."

Silence as Magora seemed to contemplate this, still caressing him, his finger brushing the interior walls of his anus just so to set off sparks behind Kaze's eyes.

"Rinse and into the water first," the dragon said slowly, and slid the finger out.

Kaze whimpered in protest.

"Shh. You said anything I wanted. Don't worry, lovely boy, you'll be more than pleased with the outcome."

Kaze endured the rinse and followed Magora to the bath, sliding in after him. It took less than a second for him to realize that the heat intensified his arousal, and his eyes rounded as he looked at the emperor sitting across from him.

Magora's slow smile made him bite his lip. "Relax. Let the heat seep into your very bones." His green eyes flickered. "And I would consider it very impolite if you came before I did."

Kaze blushed, the impulse to touch himself dying a sudden death. Instead, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the heat of the water, and tried to forget the silver vision within an arm's distance from him.

"Shura has told me that mortal lovers have less control. He thinks it's inherent to your species, but I have another theory." Magora shifted in the water, smiling to himself at Kaze's flushed face and closed eyes. "I think you merely are never given enough incentive to hold off on your own pleasure."

Kaze frowned, and opened his eyes. "Hold off?" he echoed.

"It has never occurred to you, has it?" the emperor as