#mikusore

[pengiesama]

Dies Caniculares (Fic, Mikleo/Sorey, Fantasy/God AU) (Prologue)

Title: Dies Caniculares (Prologue) Series: Tales of Zestiria Pairing: Mikleo/Sorey

Summary: Mikleo dreams of travelling the world, having exciting adventures like his uncle. Unfortunately, he lives a pretty boring life in the tiny mountain village of Camlann. If he's not working at his family's temple, he's having to deal with his mother's constant attempts to match-make him to every eligible girl in town.

He also happens to be best friends with a god. That god happens to be a dog, who happens to be able to turn into a frustratingly handsome young man. Complications, as they do, inevitably crop up.

(CONTENT WARNING: shapeshifting, eventual mpreg.)

Link: AO3

This is a collaboration between me and @sensenaoya! I'm honored to be allowed to write for their wonderful AU, and even more honored to have their lovely art illustrating it!

Please heed all content warnings!

Check out my commission info here.

Read on Tumblr!

Mikleo and his uncle stumbled through the trees and underbrush. The rain was coming down in sheets; they could barely see more than an arm’s length in front of them, and the mud beneath their feet seemed determined to suck their hiking boots right off of them. The village of Camlann was in a mountainous region, which made rainstorms like these all the more dangerous – if they didn’t find proper shelter soon, they would be one mudslide away from becoming part of the mountain permanently.

Mikleo stumbled, reached for a tree branch to steady himself, and very nearly wiped out when that same tree branch snapped under his grip. His uncle’s arm was there to steady him, tight and secure around his midsection.

“Keep going!” he heard his uncle’s voice shout over the roar of the storm around them. “The ruins are up ahead!”

Mikleo tried to calm his racing heart. His Uncle Michael was a seasoned adventurer. His Uncle Michael would get them both home safe.

The Mabinogio Ruins were an ancient, sprawling temple that sat just outside Camlann – Mikleo and Michael had set off hiking from the village that morning with the intention of camping at the temple for the evening, and examining the state of its frescos and stonework. They would take note of what needed to be tended to, manage said tending with the tools in their packs, and then head back to the village the next day. It was something they did every time Michael found himself wandering back to town in the midst of his travels, and was an activity Mikleo cherished.

When they left the village, there was no sign of a storm – it was sun and clear skies for miles. This torrential downpour came from nowhere, and caught them completely off-guard. Too far already from Camlann to try heading back, they would simply have to push toward the Mabinogio Ruins with all they had, then find a room that was in good enough shape to wait things out.

Finally, they caught sight of the ancient steps that led up to the temple entrance. Rainwater rushed down the steps like a tumbling waterfall – they would be quickly washed away if they tried to climb. And so, they continued to trudge through the underbrush, step by stumbling, soaking, mud-sucking step, until they reached the entrance. They collapsed to the (marginally) dry stone floor once inside, and paused a moment to catch their breath; watching the downpour outside in wonder. It was such a massive, raging storm – how did they not manage to see it coming on the horizon before they set out?

“…we’ll need to build a fire,” Michael finally said. “Go try and find some dry kindling. Don’t wander too far.”

Mikleo nodded absently. “Yeah...yeah.”

Mikleo knew these ruins like the back of his hand. Although he didn’t often get the chance to come out in person – being nine years old with an worrisome and overprotective mother limited one’s options when striking out on a journey to an ancient, decaying temple in the mountains – he poured over maps and books on the temple regularly, and found himself wandering its halls and rooms in his dreams. It held a special place in his heart as a place of adventure, a place that symbolized his dreams to get out of his tiny village and explore the world – just like Uncle Michael.

That being said, being able to navigate the ruins blindfolded didn’t necessarily give Mikleo a leg up on finding kindling that wasn’t soaked through. Even in areas of the ruins that had intact walls and ceilings, protected from the rainstorm, the humidity was chokingly thick. Mikleo bet that if he were to reach out and take a handful of air, he could wring it out like his clothing.

Mikleo wandered into one of the temple’s inner rooms; a large, spacious chamber with a towering statue of an ancient god at its head. He knew this temple well, he knew all of its rooms, all of its statues and carvings, all of the spots where the floors were weak and shouldn’t be stepped on. So, the new addition to this room stood out: a wild dog, curled at the base of the statue, and staring straight at Mikleo.

Mikleo was paralyzed in place, a scream for his uncle caught in his throat. He was terrified of dogs, and had been for all his life. But this was so much worse. He could at least expect a tame dog, a pet dog, to have some sort of training – something that would hold them back from snarling and barking and tearing him to pieces. A wild dog was a different story. Mikleo wondered if he was fast enough to get away and back to his uncle, before the dog could catch up to him. He wondered if playing dead would work.

The moment stretched on, and finally, the dog averted its gaze. It lowered its muzzle to rest on its front paws, sighing heavily. It didn’t seem interested in making a meal of Mikleo – it didn’t even really seem interested in moving from its spot. Mikleo allowed himself to relax, a bit, and take stock of the situation. The dog was quite unlike any sort of creature he’d seen before. Instead of a wiry coat of fur, it seemed to have…feathers, feathers that were as bright and glimmering as gold. The dog was soaked through with rainwater, and as he looked closer, it was clearly shivering. Perhaps even injured. Perhaps it had retreated here, to this abandoned place, to succumb to its wounds and die a lonely death.

Every survival instinct he possessed screamed at him to run back to the temple entrance and fling himself down those waterfall temple steps to escape the beast’s jaws. But Mikleo ached with sympathy for the poor, lonely creature, and his soft heart overrode his common sense.

“Hey. Did you come in here because of the storm, too?”

The dog’s ears perked up at the sound of Mikleo’s voice, and its tail thumped against the stone floor once, twice. Mikleo swallowed down his fear and crept a bit closer.

“You…are you hurt? Are you going to bite me if I come in here?”

The dog tilted its head, one ear flopping to the other side with the motion, and thumped its tail once. Its pink tongue poked out of its muzzle just enough to be visible. Mikleo sighed.

“You don’t understand me. Just…don’t bark at me, okay?”

The dog thumped its tail again, as if in agreement, and curled a bit closer on itself before continuing to shiver. Mikleo didn’t really know what to look for in a wounded animal, much less how to help one…Mikleo suddenly felt the weight of the soaking wet coat on his shoulders, and slowly slid it off. He got as close to the dog as he dared, and gently threw the coat near it. The coat landed on the stone floor right next to the dog with a muffled, soaked flop.

“Here.”

The dog blinked, and looked from the coat to Mikleo, as if in disbelief. Mikleo rubbed at his upper arms, feeling a little embarrassed somehow.

“I’m sorry it’s wet, but…well. You obviously know what the weather’s like. It should still warm you up.”

Now that he was closer, he could see the dog’s eyes more clearly – green, green as a forest after a rainstorm, green as emeralds. They were beautiful, just like that glimmering golden coat of feathers. Mikleo felt a strange sense of intelligence behind them.

The dog whined, and nosed the coat back in Mikleo’s direction, even as it still shivered in every limb.

“It’s fine, my uncle is building a fire, and I have more coats at home…please, you can have it. I hope it makes you feel better.”

Even though he was afraid of dogs, if he could bring comfort to a hurt and cold animal in what could be its final hours on earth, Mikleo would do it without question.

A shiver of his own tore through Mikleo, and he was reminded of the reason why he came down here. He looked around the room, trying to spot something dry enough to feed the fire. The dog, now curled around his coat, watched him curiously as he wandered around the room. Mikleo felt compelled to make conversation – it seemed rude otherwise. He explained to the dog how they’d found themselves here, explained they were from the village of Camlann. Talked about his home at the village temple, talked about his family, who were traditionally the caretakers of said temple…

“…and my mother will probably never let me leave the village gates again, if she found out about all this,” Mikleo added, ruefully.

The dog gave a sympathetic whine. Its ears were perked, and its tail hadn’t stopped wagging since Mikleo had given it his coat. It was an excellent listener – Mikleo felt like it understood him, somehow, and that it wasn’t judging him.

“…you’re sitting under the statue of Zenrus, one of the heavenly lords of lightning,” Mikleo continued to explain. The dog’s ears perked further at the sound of that god’s name, and its tail wagged harder. “This temple used to be one of his centers of worship, centuries ago. But he disappeared one day, and Maotelus took over watching the area…Maotelus is the god enshrined in our temple in Camlann. No one really knows where Zenrus went, but my uncle says that even gods deserve their peaceful retirement years.”

Mikleo had found some dry vines behind a crumbling pillar, and he gathered them in his arms as he continued to talk aloud.

“We still take care of this temple, though – you can’t just leave something with this much significance to just rot away in the forest, even if most people have forgotten about it. Well, more specifically, my uncle and I take care of it, whenever he’s in the village. He travels so much, and only comes back once or twice a year…someday, I’ll set out with him to see the world. I know I will.”

The dog was gazing at him with something that almost resembled affection. Mikleo waddled closer, his arms full of vines and twigs. He looked over the dog, and felt himself relax a little bit. The dog had stopped shivering, and was stretched out more comfortably – Mikleo could now see that the dog didn’t have any visible wounds or broken limbs, and its bright, alert expression further assured Mikleo that it wasn’t on death’s door as he originally assumed. It was still soaked though – not that Mikleo really had a leg to stand on there, either. Mikleo thought they looked like quite a pair: a soaked feathered dog, and a soaked boy whose shoes were surely filled with more mud than he could comfortably imagine.

“Mikleo! Are you alright down there?”

Mikleo jumped at the sound of his uncle’s voice, and turned to give his farewell to the dog (and his coat).

“I have to go back – my uncle is probably worried. Stay inside until the rain stops, okay?”

The dog whined a little, but seemed to acknowledge the advice. It set his head down on its paws, and watched Mikleo leave; its tail not stopping once.

Mikleo headed back to the entrance with the kindling, and gave it to Michael for the sputtering fire. Michael looked him over with a confused expression.

“What happened to your coat?” Michael asked.

“Um,” Mikleo replied.

Michael dropped the subject, but made sure to add:

“Your mother’s going to kill me, you know.”

The storm outside seemed to be calming down, and by the time they were done drying off in front of the fire and doing some basic temple maintenance – pulling out weeds from cracks in the stone, moving artifacts from rooms that had started to crumble – it had broken entirely. Michael poked his head out, squinted at the sky, and sighed.

“I think it’s passed…we should probably head back before your mother sets out to track us down.”

Mikleo was already piling dirt on the fire to put it out, but looked over at Michael, concerned.

“What about taking care of the temple?”

“Today is no day for heavy maintenance,” Michael explained. “I’ll come back tomorrow when it’s dry to patch up the ceilings and reinforce the walls.”

Mikleo perked up. “Tomorrow? We can come back tomor--”

“I will come back tomorrow,” Michael clarified. “Sorry. You know I’d take you again if I could.”

Mikleo sulked. He knew his mother hated that her brother travelled so much – straying so far from home, for so long, with so little contact. She seemed to despair at how much Mikleo admired him for his wanderlust, and it was a small miracle that she allowed these hikes whenever Michael found himself back in town. She was sure to be in full fussing mode when they returned to town after this storm, and surely wouldn’t allow Mikleo out of her sight for a month or more. And there was still the matter of explaining the coat, on top of all that.

“Come on, pack up and let’s get going.”

Mikleo paused, and glanced down the darkened halls of the temple.

“…can you let me check on something first?” he asked.

Michael allowed it, and Mikleo set off into the halls. He found his way back to the inner chamber from before, and peeked in.

The dog was asleep – breathing steadily, and still curled around his coat. Its leg twitched in its sleep.

Mikleo smiled, and quietly made his way back to his uncle.

 --

 The next few days proceeded as normal. Mikleo’s mother, Muse, scolded them both, fretted over Mikleo, scolded them both over Mikleo’s lost coat and muddy shoes. Michael left as expected after a day or so, itching to start a new adventure; leaving Muse to fret further over his safety, and leaving Mikleo bereft once more – alone with his collection of books at the temple, only able to dream about the world outside the village. And so would the days go, forever, unchanging.

…or so Mikleo thought. Because the morning after his uncle left, the dog from the temple showed up in front of his house.

It was definitely the same dog – that coat of golden feathers and those green eyes were unmistakable. Moreover, it still had Mikleo’s coat; carefully carried in its jaws, as if it was being conscientious enough to not tear it. It seemed to be patiently waiting for something…or someone. Mikleo watched the dog from his bedroom window. Who could it be waiting for, other than him?

Mikleo steeled his courage, and walked out to meet the creature waiting at the temple gates.

The dog brightened up as he approached – its tail wagged in full force, and that golden coat seemed to almost glow. Its coat was even more beautiful now that it was dry, and Mikleo could see the shimmer in it, and the fluffy, silver-white down around its neck and ears. It was truly captivating to look at, and Mikleo was able to push down the fear still in his heart at the sight of it.

“…you found me?” Mikleo asked quietly. “I guess you might’ve followed the scent on that coat.”

The dog seemed to remember that it was carrying the coat at Mikleo’s comment, and dropped it to the ground, nosing it towards Mikleo. Mikleo stared, trying to make sense of all this. After a moment, the dog backed up, giving Mikleo his space, seemingly mindful of his lingering fears.

Mikleo picked up the coat – it was covered in feathers and leaves, and smelled like wet dog, but there were no tears or rips anywhere. It was clear that it had been well taken care of.

“…thank you,” Mikleo quietly said.

The dog’s tongue lolled out of its mouth, and its tail thumped once before it rose to its feet.

“Wait,” Mikleo said. “Don’t go. You must be hungry, or thirsty…”

At those words, the dog couldn’t help the needy look that crossed its face – nor the little bit of drool around its mouth. Mikleo smiled despite himself, and asked the dog to wait for him while he went inside.

While Mikleo’s mother did not share his fear of dogs, she was always concerned for his safety – after listening to Mikleo’s plea to feed and water their visitor, after listening to his rambling tale about finding the dog at the temple, and seeing Mikleo’s coat returned in one (albeit filthy) piece, Muse went out with supplies with a thoughtful look on her face. Mikleo watched from the window as she tended to the dog – even managing to pet the creature; the dog leaning into her palm with a blissful look on its face. Mikleo felt a strange little twinge of jealousy.

When Muse came back inside, she gathered some old blankets, and made to return to the front gate.

“Mom?” Mikleo questioned. He couldn’t help the curiosity, or the hope. “Are we letting it stay?”

“Whether this creature is a herald of the ancient Lord Zenrus, or simply a wandering stray, night is coming, and we must offer our hospitality,” Muse explained.

And so they did, as the dog continued to remain around the temple for the next few days. Mikleo watched from the window every time his mother went out to offer food and water to their could-be-divine guest, and felt his courage and his longing grow – until finally, one day, he managed to voice what he wanted to do.

“Can I…take out the food today?”

Muse rose an eyebrow at him – she was well aware of his fear of dogs, so it was quite a thing to hear. But seeing the determination in Mikleo’s eyes, she relented, and soon, Mikleo was carefully approaching the beast waiting at the gates with their offering. The beast saw him, and gave an excited little whine; its tail going at full-speed.

“…here,” Mikleo said, finally, setting the food and water down. The dog managed to wait until Mikleo had stepped back before digging in to the meat. “You know, my mother thinks you’re a herald of Lord Zenrus. I don’t think a heavenly herald would drool so much when they eat.”

The dog looked up at him, and blinked. “Herald? Oh, no. I’m no herald. Zenrus is my grandfather, though, so I guess it’s not too far off…”

Mikleo thought he deserved a great deal of credit for not screaming at the sound of the dog’s voice. At the sound of the dog speaking. Perhaps a lifetime of serving in the village temple had prepared him for this moment, though Mikleo still couldn’t control the truly baffled expression on his face. The dog seemed to realize what had just happened – that its cover as a completely ordinary hyper-intelligent golden feathered dog was blown. It lowered its ears, abashed, and licked its chops to clean up its drool before it spoke again.

“I—I’m sorry, but I didn’t want to speak until we were alone,” it said. Or rather, he said. The voice coming from the dog was unmistakably that of a young man. “My name is Sorey, I’m a travelling thunder god. I…I just had to thank you for the other day in Gramps’ old temple. For your coat, and the company.”

“…you’re welcome,” Mikleo said, unable to manage anything else. Except: “I’m Mikleo.”

And such was the beginning of their strange friendship. Mikleo took up the responsibility of bringing offerings to their could-be-and-actually-definitely-is-divine guest, and he and Sorey began to speak more and more. Sorey was so well-travelled – even moreso than Mikleo’s uncle – and was eager to talk with Mikleo about the places he’d seen, over the many years he’d lived. (Though he still seemed to be considered quite young, by godly standards.) Mikleo began to look forward to their chats every morning and night more than anything – it was a lonely life in the village, with so few other children his age, and even fewer with his interest in history and travel. And it seemed that Sorey knew some of that loneliness, at least a little bit.

“…I wish you could stay,” Mikleo said quietly one night, after a few weeks of their acquaintance. “It’s so lonely here. And boring. You can travel anywhere you want, and I’m stuck here, just…”

Sorey lifted his head from Mikleo’s lap, and shifted to his feet. “…close your eyes, okay?”

Mikleo frowned. “…you’re not going to try and lick my face again, are you?”

“Hey! You had food on your face that day and I was just – listen, just close your eyes. I promise it’s nothing weird.”

Mikleo shook his head and did as he was asked. There was a whisper of wind, and the scent of a distant rainstorm – and then, a hand, a human hand, holding his own. Mikleo’s eyes flew open, and he stared at the handsome young man kneeling in front of him. Mikleo felt his cheeks burn. His long blond hair was tied into a high and messy ponytail, and it cascaded down his back; feathered earrings peeked out of the fall of it. His white and gold clothes were finely-made, and were as elegant as anything Mikleo had seen in the temple’s holy etchings. Those same sparkling green eyes that he remembered searched his own, and then, the smile that crossed the young man’s face was unmistakable – Mikleo could almost see that phantom tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.

“If you need me to stay, Mikleo, I’ll stay. I’ve got nowhere to be, and…” Sorey trailed off, then scratched at his ear, a little embarrassed. His feather earrings jingled with the motion. “I mean, as long as your mom doesn’t mind me hanging around. I feel kinda bad for imposing so long…”

Sorey was lonely, too, just like him. They were alike in so many ways.

Mikleo pled his case to his mother the next day – not including certain details (like “the dog can talk” or “the dog is a god” or “the dog is a man and I can’t get his smile out of my head”), but begging her to let the dog stay permanently. Muse’s superstitious nature – or perhaps her spiritual intuition, in this case – and the dog’s friendly charm won out in the end, and she agreed to the arrangement.

Sorey and Mikleo were two peas in a pod, to be certain, and became fast, inseparable friends. Sorey was the north star in Mikleo’s life – unchanging, always there, a rock to lean on even as Mikleo grew and his life got more…complicated. The years seemed to fly by, and soon, Mikleo found himself twenty-four years old and gazing at Sorey’s face as he napped next to him. He didn’t look a day older than he did that day at the temple – Mikleo had gone from looking the part of little brother, to looking the part of the older brother. (Though he’d always had the maturity of the older brother. Maturity was not something that came easily to Sorey.) Soon, no doubt, he’d start looking like Sorey’s father. The thought didn’t bother Mikleo much – it came with the implication of many more long years with Sorey, which was all he wanted.

…Maybe not all he wanted, Mikleo amended, rolling onto his back. They were relaxing in their secret place in the forest; a waterfall clearing, with a clear pond and soft grass, and plenty of tree cover to keep the sun out of their eyes. It was a wonderful spot to hide from his duties at the temple, and his…other duties. He still dreamed of travel, of seeing the world. And he dreamed of getting a break from his mother’s constant matchmaking, which this secret place helped with.

Sorey whined softly in his sleep, and scooted closer to Mikleo, his messy hair tickling Mikleo’s jaw. Mikleo smiled and stroked his head. He had appointments this afternoon, temple duties to tend to. But he could spare some more time for Sorey to get his rest.

He let his eyes drift closed, and dozed to the sounds of the forest around him.

--

Chapter Directory

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[miyakuli]

** Permission to post & translate was granted by the artist Support the artist on their page too Please don’t remove credits & don’t repost/edit the art **

Translation and typeset by me Do NOT repost/edit it on tumblr or any other websites!!!

Artist : @zest_te

Source

[alassetasartir-blog]

Happy Valentine!!!!

[carnelianwings]

8, 11 & 25 for SorMik? ❤️

Ask me questions for OTPs!  I’ll answer for SoreMiku, Puzzleshipping, Blindshipping, and Kurama/Hiei!

8: Nicknames? & if so, how did they originate?

Don’t really have any nicknames that they come up with each other - Edna takes care of most of that, lol.

11: Who tops?

Sorey.  Like, I can see them switching rarely just for variety in the bedroom, but Sorey almost always tops.

25: Who needs more assurance? 

For all that they work together as a team, I still see Mikleo as the one needing more assurance.  Especially Epileo, who probably has nightmares right after Sorey comes back that it’s all a figment of his imagination and that he dreamed it all and that when he wakes up, Sorey’s beacon will still be there and he’ll still be alone.  Or he’ll dream that Sorey came back as a human and he gets to watch him die again.  So there’s more than a few nights where Mikleo will wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat and just spends hours staring at Sorey afterwards.  And if he wakes up Sorey too, Sorey will hold and cuddle him all night as though to say, “Hey, I’m here, and I’m not leaving you again” with his actions.

[pengiesama]

Dies Caniculares (Fic, Mikleo/Sorey, Fantasy/God AU) (Chapter 6/6)

Title: Dies Caniculares (Chapter 6/6) Series: Tales of Zestiria Pairing: Mikleo/Sorey

Summary: Mikleo dreams of travelling the world, having exciting adventures like his uncle. Unfortunately, he lives a pretty boring life in the tiny mountain village of Camlann. If he’s not working at his family’s temple, he’s having to deal with his mother’s constant attempts to match-make him to every eligible girl in town.

He also happens to be best friends with a god. That god happens to be a dog, who happens to be able to turn into a frustratingly handsome young man. Complications, as they do, inevitably crop up.

CHAPTER SIX:

Any intrepid adventurer needs a star to guide their path.

(CONTENT WARNING: shapeshifting, eventual mpreg.)

Link: AO3

This is a collaboration between me and @sensenaoya! I’m honored to be allowed to write for their wonderful AU, and even more honored to have their lovely art illustrating it!

Please heed all content warnings!

Check out my commission info here.

Read on Tumblr!

Michael quietly crept through the temple grounds, with his newest purchase from the town bookshop tucked inside his robes. He touched the outline of it under his clothes, his skin tingling from excitement at the feel of the hardcover, and the weight of the volume. It promised many hours of entertainment and nourishment for the brain and soul, and was worth every penny spent. (Which was incidentally very lucky for Michael, as it was quite expensive.) There was just the matter of…finding a spot to enjoy it.

Grandmother didn’t approve of reading “frivolous” literature. Grandmother didn’t approve of Michael exploring the forest outside of town. Grandmother didn’t approve of Michael spending time on things that didn’t involve the temple. Grandmother didn’t approve of a lot of things, and Michael had long stopped keeping track. He just assumed anything that was of interest to him was forbidden, and would have to be enjoyed in secret.

The bookshop in town knew from a few visits by stern-faced temple staff that they should not be selling the Young Master Rulay such puerile nonsense. The bookshop in town also knew Michael as their best customer, and had enough business sense to keep a secret or two. Normally, Michael would take his newest book purchases to the Mabinogio Temple; to be devoured in an afternoon, and then carefully stored in a secret trunk, covered in a waterproof tarp – safely tucked away from the prying eyes of his grandmother and her lackeys at the temple. (He thought about bringing his little sister, sometimes, but she was really still too young to make the hike up. Maybe in a few years – in the meantime, he memorized the books and narrated them to her at her bedside at night.) But he had been looking for this book for months. He’d pestered the bookshop owner daily, asking if they’d found a copy yet, asking how long it might take, again and again until they stuffed some of the latest science and archaeology journals into his hands to make him go away. But today, his persistence finally paid off – they’d located a copy, ordered it, and it was here. He finally had it. He simply couldn’t wait to read it – couldn’t manage the hike up to the Mabinogio Temple without spontaneously combusting.

The temple grounds around Maotelus’ chambers were usually pretty quiet around this time of day. The high priests performed the cleansing ritual in the early morning, and presented offerings at sundown and sunset. He’d never been allowed up there – most people weren’t, except for the most senior priests – but he was a quick study, and easily found a secluded spot, hidden away from those approaching from the lone path up the hillside. As long as Michael was quick about reading, and kept an eye out, he should be able to get through at least the first quarter of the book – enough to tide him over until he could tear himself away long enough to properly enjoy it at Mabinogio.

This was, at least, the plan. But no sooner had Michael sat down in a shady spot underneath the shrine awnings was he interrupted.

“What’s it about?”

Michael nearly jumped out of his skin, and only just managed to stop himself from making a break for it. The voice, however, was very much unlike any of the temple attendants. It was soft, young-sounding…and seemed to be projected directly inside his head. Michael squinted suspiciously at Maotelus’ shrine, at its sturdy hardwood walls and lack of windows.  

“Your book. What’s it about?”

“…semiotics in pre-Asgard Era architecture,” Michael replied.

He heard the whisper of a page turning, and he spun around to see a pale white hand idly flipping through his book. His book. He scowled at the boy it was attached to; a boy that hadn’t been there a moment before, a boy no older than him. A boy with golden hair, dressed in dazzling white. His eyes were as green as the holy forest that surrounded the town.

“Sounds fascinating. But that’s quite a topic for someone your age,” said the boy.

“Look who’s talking,” Michael shot back.

The boy raised an eyebrow, but couldn’t help a smile from twitching at his mouth, nor a short titter of laughter.

“I guess you’ve got a point there. May I read with you?” asked the boy. “I’ll keep up with your pace, I promise.”

Michael seriously doubted that, even considering who he was speaking with. Michael was a very fast reader.

“…I guess,” Michael said. “As long as you keep an eye out for anyone coming. And as long as you don’t tell anyone I was here.”

The boy laughed again. It was a sound that seemed like it could make flowers bloom from dry soil.

“Of course. My lips are sealed.”

It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. However, it was a friendship that had to be kept pretty firmly under wraps – Michael was very certain that this would fall under the category of the many things his grandmother didn’t approve of, and knew that he couldn’t tell a single soul about it; not even his little sister Muse. The idea of being forbidden from seeing his dear friend (“Call me Mao,” he’d told him) was soon something Michael couldn’t bear to think of. He’d never met anyone who was so easy to talk to, or so interested in whatever he had to say. He was interested in books, and traveling the world. And…it was nice, having this special secret. Having Mao all to himself, in this way. It seemed like he was almost made just for Michael. Everyone knew Maotelus from the etchings and grand banners that decorated the temples, from the prayer books and lucky charms, as a grand white dragon. Michael had never heard anyone speak of Mao as Mao, as the golden-haired boy who would tell Michael stories of far-flung places that Michael had only ever dreamed of seeing. The boy who would share with Michael the offerings presented to him by the priests, who always gave Michael a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on.

Sometimes, it seemed as though he’d never be able to leave this tiny town. When his grandmother passed, the honor of heading the temple was set to fall on Michael’s shoulders when he came of age – his mother was of Rulay lineage, but had little in the way of spiritual potential; especially when compared to her two children. It was simply logical to pass the title to Michael.

It almost seemed selfish of him to even consider leaving. He would be forcing Muse to take on the matter of running the temple, and leaving her behind. What’s more, he would be leaving Mao behind, without anyone there to keep him company, to share stories with him, to read with him…

“How has Muse been holding up? And little Mikleo.”

Michael shook his head and sighed. “She…she’s about as well as anyone could be, considering. I doubt Mikleo understands what’s happened – though I think he’s starting to chafe at all the extra attention and fretting.”

Muse’s husband was a good man, and it was a tragedy that Mikleo would never know him. But, though the never knowing was an ache unto itself, the knowing and loss was a far greater one. Perhaps it was a mercy.

Mao nodded. “She’s strong. And very capable. She’ll be able to manage the temple on her own easily, I think.”

Michael gave him a look. “Is this your way of threatening to fire me?”

Mao pursed his lips and blew a puff of silver flame into Michael’s face – it was painless, and smelled thickly of warm, smoky incense. Michael’s hair fluttered back into place as the warm air dissipated.

“Perish the thought,” Mao said. “But you’re going to have to start planning that journey of yours soon.”

The very idea set Michael’s teeth on edge, and made his heart ache in his chest.

“I can’t just dump everything on Muse and walk off,” Michael said. “Not now.”

“In a year or two, then. When you’ve had a chance to study and prepare.”

“But—”

“You and I both know that Muse already does the lion’s share of work around here,” Mao said drily. “I’m sure she wouldn’t really mind having the title of temple head officially.”

Michael lowered his chin, hiding his expression.

“Mikleo isn’t the only one Muse is hovering over right now. She won’t let me out of her sight, either. There’s no way she’d…she’d be up every night, fretting over where I was, whether I was safe.”

He felt Mao’s small white hand touch the back of his own. He’d never aged a day, ever since that fateful afternoon.

“I have to admit that I understand her concerns,” Mao said. “Which is why I’ll be watching over you personally.”

Before Michael could say a word, Mao pressed his hand to his chest; over his heart. The warmth that flooded into him was – overwhelming, like the sun on a brilliant summer day. It poured into every limb, every cell, every part of his being. He could hear his heartbeat and Mao’s heartbeat and the heartbeat of the earth itself; the buzzing pulse of the land and all its creation. In that moment, everything was linked – he could feel Muse’s grief and determination, Mikleo’s innocent love, his confusion and loneliness. He could feel a lingering sorrow, and a forlorn hope; a man’s voice: She’s a stronger woman than you realize. She will stand tall. But please – won’t you spend a few more years with my wife and son, to be certain they’re well? He’s still so young, and so lonely—

“Hey, come on. I don’t want to have to call the priests up here…”

Michael’s vision swam back into focus. He clutched at the still-burning pulse in his chest, and stared at Mao, wide-eyed, waiting for an explanation. Mao breathed a sigh of relief, and, though exhaustion was plain on his face, so was an expression of satisfaction.

“I’ve shared part of my power with you,” he explained. “No matter where you go, no matter how far you travel, we’ll always be connected. I’ll always be able to protect you – you need fear no injury, no disease, no thirst or starvation. Should you travel so far that you arrive at another continent, and another god’s domain, they will sense my power in you and aid you.”

Michael crawled upright; leaning heavily on Mao, who permitted the affront to his heavenly dignity, as he always did. Finally, Michael was on his feet, and was able to breathe deeply enough to clear his head.

“Mao…you…”

Mao raised an eyebrow. “If you’re going to try and get me to go back on this, I’ll have you know that I don’t want to hear it. No takesies-backsies. I may have let you leave Camlann without a blessing a few years ago, but you’re pushing thirty, and I don’t want you breaking your hip out there.”

Helpless laughter bubbled out of Michael’s chest, and he sank to his knees heavily to bundle Mao into a tight hug. Mao returned the embrace, with vigor.

“Always connected, huh?” Michael asked. “So I can argue with you about journals even from a thousand miles away?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Mao replied.

--

And so, Michael stayed a few more years in town to put the temple and family affairs in order before setting off on his journey. Muse worried, as was her way, but – true to form – she stood tall and determined, managing the temple with ease and brilliance. Mikleo devoured tales of his uncle’s travels, and soon, his kind heart and inquisitive nature earned him a lifelong friend and companion. This is a story you surely already know.

This brings us to the matter of Maotelus and his condition.

A god of the land must extend their power to bless their domain – it is a sleepless, eternal affair, and a constant drain on one’s energy; even one as mighty as a god. Without this protection, the land and all its inhabitants would fall to the rot of malevolence, to the cruel whims of the weather and humanity’s carelessness. This godly power is regained through human worship, and through the tireless efforts of the temple staff – every bit of malevolence attended to by the priests and attendants was a tiny bit of the load off a god’s back.

The temple at Camlann was well-managed, and its staff tireless. The people of Camlann were faithful and dutiful. By all means, Maotelus should have remained in good health for many years. But his generous gift to Michael came with a cost that he did not anticipate.

Expending so much power at once – essentially creating a walking domain, and one that indeed walked very, very far; over hill and dale and far away – sent Maotelus into a deficit of health that he could not ever quite manage to climb out of. Day by day, year by year, the deficit and its burden grew heavier and heavier. Maotelus in his godly form, once a grand white dragon the size of the temple itself, shrank smaller and smaller. There were few people to comment on it; few people who came calling, and fewer still who spoke to him with such familiarity and care as Michael had. He suffered quietly, and unnoticed.

Maotelus could sleep for a little while – a short nap, five or ten years, perhaps – to regain his strength and be well once more. But without his full attention, the land would waste away…and he could sense a foul air from Ladylake, the scent of greed and corruption growing ever stronger. He would have to remain awake, and vigilant; keeping one eye on that city and one eye on the town, and an eye on the mountains and surrounding lands, and an eye on Michael as well, and an eye on Muse and Mikleo, to keep his promise, and…

He could also just summon Michael back to Camlann, revoke his blessing, and re-absorb his power. It was certainly an idea that crossed Mao’s mind, as things grew dire – his duty was to the land and its people, not one man. Even so, Mao could never quite bring himself to it. What if such a thing wound up hurting Michael, or even killing him? Yanking godly power from a mortal’s chest was surely not without its consequences. He did not breathe a word of it, or of any of his struggles, to Michael when he came by yearly to visit.

If this course of events was allowed to continue, he would surely die, and the land along with him. Maotelus was at a loss. He was backed into a corner, with no one to turn to.

That is, until that young, wandering dog god came to town…

--

“…we became pretty good friends over the years, and after a while, he asked me a favor,” Sorey continued to explain. “He didn’t want to put any of this on me, but he had no choice. While Mao sleeps, I’ll be the land god in his place.”

There were no dramatic gasps or shouts of surprise – the three gathered humans simply continued to stare at Sorey, still trying to process his story, and what was happening. Sorey scratched at his ear, shifting his weight from foot to foot at the awkward silence. Maotelus snoozed peacefully in his arms. Sorey thought he should probably find a nice pillow or cat bed to put him on while he rested.

“I-it’s only temporary, until he’s done regaining his strength…you won’t have to change up any of the temple rituals or rewrite any of the prayers. I’m sorry I didn’t tell anyone sooner, but Mao told me not to, and…and there wasn’t anything anyone could have done…”

“No,” Michael said quietly. “There was.”

Sorey frowned, then approached Michael, with Maotelus in his arms. He waited until the man looked him in the eyes.

“Uncle Michael. You’re so precious to Mao. Take it from another god – when we grow fond of a mortal, there’s no force in heaven or earth that will keep us from trying to make them happy.”

Michael stared at Sorey, then cast a quick side-eyed look to Muse and Mikleo.

“Oh,” Mikleo said almost absently. “Uncle Michael, meet Sorey. He’s not actually a dog.”

“I really love your work,” Sorey said sincerely. “And hearing your travel stories. And your belly-rubs.”

“Ah,” Michael said quietly, rather unruffled by the revelation. He was pretty hard to fluster in general, and the whole Maotelus situation was taking up his Fluster Quota for the moment.

Sorey held out the sleeping Maotelus, and Michael slowly, haltingly, accepted him into his arms. Maotelus continued to sleep; not stirring a bit from the pass-off.

“He didn’t want to tell you. He didn’t want to hurt you by taking back his power, or to force you to give up your dream,” Sorey explained. “He just wants to protect you and this town, and to make everyone happy. This place is his home, after all. And…it’s mine now, too. My home, and…and Mikleo’s.”

Muse seemed to snap out of the shock of the situation, and – with a determination and resolve that had kept the temple strong even through Maotelus’ secret illness – took the helm to steer them back onto a proper path.

“I will call for an emergency meeting of the most senior staff and we will be up to perform the purification ritual shortly,” Muse stated. She bowed low to Sorey. “We will also arrange a spot for Lord Maotelus to sleep safely; a spot that suits the radiance of his station.”

Sorey supposed that meant they probably wouldn’t be okay with him sleeping on a cat bad. But, as long as Mao was safe and comfortable during his rest, Sorey was happy.

Michael sat down in the shrine, Maotelus still in his arms – he clearly wasn’t going to be much for any further conversation. Sorey gave Mikleo a meaningful glance, and they both quietly left the shrine; leaving the two of them alone for a moment until the priests came up. And so they, too, were alone – outside the shrine, listening to the wind rustle the trees.

The silence was��awkward. Sorey supposed that was to be expected – they’d both had a pretty busy twenty-four hours. Sorey reached out for Mikleo’s hand; his heart warming as Mikleo’s fingers curled around his own. He smiled bright and warm at him, and leaned in to press a kiss to that lovely jawline.

“This is good, right?” Sorey asked. “Your mom won’t pressure you anymore. She knows about me, and…and us. And now that Uncle Michael is here, you can go with him whenever he’s ready to leave—”

“Sorey.” Mikleo’s voice was soft and reassuring, and horribly gentle. “I can’t leave.”

Sorey’s heart dropped into his stomach. “But…you can, your mother said she was okay with it…and, and Maotelus’ protection is still on Michael, so you’ll both be safe on the road…”

Mikleo squeezed his hand. “There’s no point if you’re not by my side. It’s fine, Sorey. I’ll stay here with you, to support you.”

Sorey understood on an intellectual level why Maotelus hadn’t called Michael back to town, even if it was for the good of his whole domain. And now, he understood it on an emotional level.

“Mikleo. Please,” Sorey begged. “It’s always been your dream, ever since we met…you have to go with your uncle, and see the world.”

“It’s fine,” Mikleo said, more firmly. “You’ll need support while Maotelus sleeps. Ten or fifteen years is nothing.”

“It’s something when you’ve always wanted to travel with your uncle. He’s not as young as he used to be, Mikleo – in ten or fifteen years, he’ll be in no state to travel, even with Mao’s blessing. And…what if it’s not just a few years? What if I’m not strong enough to help Mao, and you’re just waiting here, for twenty, thirty years, or…”

Sorey’s voice faltered at the very thought of it. Mikleo stroked his cheek, and trailed the touch up and back to pet his hair, until Sorey’s breathing calmed.

“Do you really think I can just leave you here, after all that’s happened?” Mikleo asked. He sounded so hurt, so confused. “After what happened last night? For god’s sake, Sorey, even without all that, you’re still my closest friend, and you think that I somehow can just…pack up and leave with a smile on my face…”

“You’ve been stuck here so long,” Sorey said mournfully. “I’ve seen how much it tears you up, how much you resented it. I can’t…I can’t stand to have you resent me…”

Mikleo’s fingers loosened around Sorey’s hand.

“You said that Maotelus told you about his predicament ages ago,” Mikleo said. “Honestly, were you just planning on letting me leave town without you this whole time? Were you ever really planning on coming with me?”

Sorey swallowed hard and grasped for Mikleo’s retreating hand. “Mikleo. I was, I swear I was.”

“It’s fine,” Mikleo repeated. “All I ever wanted was a choice, and it’s my choice now to stay. Don’t feel guilty.”

A retinue of priests was making their way up to the shrine, bearing flasks of holy water, scrolls, incense, sacred bells. Mikleo rose to his feet, and bowed deeply to Sorey.

“The priests will perform the purification ritual,” Mikleo said. “If you’ll excuse me, someone still needs to convince Alisha to untie herself.”

--

The week passed in a blur.

There was work to be done, and every caretaker of the shrine, from the most novice attendant to the highest of priests, was on deck to handle it. The changing god – even though it was only a temporary arrangement – was utterly unprecedented, and the tension it created was palpable. Even so, Sorey seemed to be a natural at the position. With Maotelus’ lingering power as his support, amplifying his own, the dark fog of malevolence that lingered in town – lurking in corners and staining the fields, a persistent blackness that could not seem to be purified even with dozens of blessings – was finally chased away.

On the topic of the chasing-away of persistent annoyances, the surveying team from Ladylake was also forcibly ejected from the holy mountain. But this was not due to Sorey’s power – although his domain fortified the land they sought to desecrate, it was not in Sorey’s nature to bring down anything resembling heavenly wrath. Fortunately, Alisha was more than happy to serve the purpose when informed of her countrymen’s illegal presence and nefarious designs on the mountain’s holy grounds, and their cruel and undignified treatment of her dear friend’s uncle. Steeled with purpose, and high on the feeling of being recognized by the heavens for her pillar-tying vigil, she set out into the forest with the full intent of chasing the surveyors all the way back to Ladylake on foot.

And, fortunately, Mikleo was able to get ahold of Rose before Alisha made her dream a reality. With Rose’s assistance and support, they quickly apprehended the team and extracted a full confession of their misdeeds and Mayor Diphda’s involvement in the plot. (Mikleo knew better than to ask Rose about her information-gathering methods, if he wanted to still be able to sleep at night.) It was quick, and bloodless, for which Mikleo was thankful. He had always been concerned about keeping the land as free from unnecessary bloodshed as possible; to ensure Maotelus’ good health. But, he now had an even more personal investment.

“Don’t worry,” Rose assured him before they left. “I’ll see to it that these chumps and their boss see justice. You’ve got enough on your plate right now.”

She and Alisha were headed back to Ladylake with the captured team, accompanied by a retinue of priests – to testify against the trespassers on Camlann land. Mikleo had faith that justice would be served.

“Thank you,” Mikleo said. “You’ve done Camlann a great service, and we remain in your debt.”

Rose winked and poked Mikleo in the chest lightly. “Now, don’t say things like that to me unless you really mean it. I could think of a lot of ways you guys could repay me, but…I’ll take a while to settle on it.”

“…during our march, I beseech you to reflect on your misdeeds; not only snubbing your nose at the heavens, but also not caring a whit about the well-being of your fellow man…” Alisha went on, lecturing their captives.

“Just make sure she doesn’t tie herself to a tree trunk in the forest on the way down,” Mikleo said wearily.

Rose sighed, but Mikleo saw the fond smile on her face, and the look in her eyes as she gazed at Alisha.

“You don’t need to tell me.”

Another week passed, and Mikleo worked, and worked, and worked. He led teams to comb the town looking for lingering taint; inspecting everything with a fretful, obsessive eye, as if he was a new bride cleaning house for her in-laws’ first visit. Truthfully, he needed something to fill the hours – his schedule had been freed up quite considerably. No more dates to waste his time and test his patience. No more arguments. No more days out at the waterfall. No more lazy afternoons sharing snacks at the Mabinogio Temple. No more evenings in the temple garden, quietly watching the stars come out. No more late nights reading. No more hours spent picking feathers out of his bedsheets and clothes. No more sleep lost because of a dog snoring in his ear in bed. Mikleo didn’t quite know what to do with himself, anymore.

“How is Michael doing?” Sorey asked, in a small, hopeful voice. “Do you think he’ll be going back on the road soon?”

Michael was not one to malinger, and – to Muse’s great annoyance – he had been hobbling around the temple grounds in a matter of days after his encounter with the intruders on the mountain.

“He’s almost fully recovered, and should be leaving in a few days,” Mikleo confirmed. “He’s up at the Mabinogio Temple today, doing restoration work.”

“You’ve done so much work on it over the years yourself,” Sorey said earnestly. “Does he—”

“He’s noticed,” Mikleo interrupted, curtly. “And had a few disagreements with me on some of our restoration choices.”

Sorey shifted uncomfortably at Mikleo’s tone. Or perhaps it was discomfort from the elaborate robes he had been given to wear as part of his new station. They were beautiful – the intricate embroidered swirls, the delicate feather trim, the flow of the voluminous sleeves, and the flutter of tails at the back as he walked. They were also so very unsuited to Sorey – Mikleo couldn’t count how many times Sorey had nearly tripped on the hem of the robes when he was trying to get down the stairs to greet him. And they got dirty so easily…not that Mikleo had the privilege of being the one to provide Sorey with his ritual baths, anymore. It was no longer his duty to care for Sorey, to tend to him and help him with his day-to-day needs – that was the domain of the high priests.  

He just didn’t quite know what to do with himself, anymore.

“Maybe…you could talk it out with him a little more?” Sorey offered.

“He’ll be leaving in a few days, like I said. No one has ever managed to change Uncle Michael’s mind on an academic subject that quickly.”

“…w-well, you could always…talk it out on the road?”

“No,” Mikleo said. “Not a possibility.”

“But—”

The sun was setting. Mikleo went to his knees and bowed deeply to Sorey, pressing his forehead to the hem of those lovely, completely unsuitable robes.

“Thank you for taking the time to speak to me, my lord,” Mikleo murmured. “I will take my leave so you are able to retire.”

“Mikleo.” Sorey’s voice was so quiet, so defeated. “Please.”

Mikleo looked up at him from under the fall of his hair, and, without breaking eye contact, lifted the hem of Sorey’s robes to his lips to kiss.

He could live a happy life, here, at Sorey’s feet. He would be happy, and fulfilled.

But he hoped every day that his uncle would be well enough to leave as soon as possible, without him, so the nagging longing in his chest would finally cease.

Soon, the time had come: Michael was well enough to begin his journey once more; well enough that even Muse admitted he was more than ready to strike out. There was the matter of gathering supplies for the road, and Michael requested Mikleo’s assistance in town to that end.

“You know, your mother told me that she’s given you her blessing. I would have thought you’d have leapt at the chance to leave.”

Mikleo went quiet, and turned over the box of granola bars in his hand, as if pretending to be engrossed in its nutritional facts.

“…I would have thought that, too,” Mikleo finally admitted. “Not too long ago.”

Michael looked at him expectantly. “…well? What’s stopping you? Adventure and wonder await, and all that. You’re younger than I was when I first set out, so you’ve still got that idiocy to power you along through sleepless nights. I have to admit that it’d be a bonus having someone with youth on their side along.”

“Uncle…” Mikleo began, and trailed off. He couldn’t quite put his feelings into words.

“I’m admittedly not the most pleasant company all the time,” Michael said. “If the various archaeological and historical communities have any merit to their complaints about me. But I have a feeling that’s not why you’re hesitating.”

“How can you…” Mikleo set the box down, and leaned heavily against the shelf. “How can you just leave him? After all he’s sacrificed for you? How can you just pack up and go, as if everything’s perfectly normal? After you’ve spent your whole life with him, after you’ve shared everything with him, after you promised to see the world with him and now you can’t and might never be able to, and…”

Michael’s expression went soft, and he allowed Mikleo to settle himself before reaching out a hand to gently touch his shoulder – lightly, giving him space to shrug him off if needed.

“Mao gave me his blessing with the explicit direction to see the world, and fulfill my dreams,” Michael said. “He just about kicked me out the door in the process, and was so determined that I keep at it that…we are where we are now. If I gave up now and hung around here just waiting around for him, I’d never hear the end of it when he does wake up – and when he does, I’ll have stories for him, and more books under my belt, and a satisfaction that means I’ll never need to leave him again. I’ll have spent my life doing what I love, instead of torturing myself, and building up resentment. Resentment isn’t a good look on anyone, especially a priest – you’re supposed to clean up malevolence, no? Not drag it everywhere you go like you stepped in something.”

Mikleo was quiet.

“But…”

“If I gave you a pair of hiking boots, and you never wore them – just stacked them on your shelf to make sure they never got worn out or scuffed – is that really how I wanted my gift to be used? I’m thankful for everything Mao has done for me, and this is my way of proving it.”

“This isn’t about hiking boots,” Mikleo said with no little disdain.

“It isn’t,” Michael agreed. “And I know you’re smart enough to understand a metaphor when you hear one.”

--

“Mikleo. You have a date this afternoon.”

Now that was a phrase Mikleo had thought he’d never have to hear again. Moreover, this was hardly the time – Michael was leaving tomorrow, and on top of that, there were appointments to tend to. Mikleo raised an eyebrow at his mother.

“I know,” Muse said, holding up her hands in a gesture of surrender. “I promised. But I simply couldn’t refuse – they were very insistent that they be given a chance. They’ll be waiting at the Spring Breeze. I re-assigned your appointments to other priests. Try to enjoy yourself, won’t you?  And be on your best behavior.”

Very insistent, indeed. The Spring Breeze wasn’t even open during the daytime, normally – this girl must have slipped Zaveid a tidy sum to get him to get him to deviate from his usual daytime schedule of keeping house and visiting the elementary school where Lailah taught. Whatever the case was, Mikleo was no longer on the market – which wasn’t something that had been formally announced to the town, of course, for obvious reasons. Mikleo was in a certain mood today – a mood of aching nostalgia and thwarted longing at Michael’s impending departure. He would have loved to be left alone to brood, but he would spare a few minutes to go to the bar, get a drink, and gently turn down this determined creature. Perhaps she could spread the word about his removal from the dating market, so he wouldn’t have to.

He sighed deeply as he stood in front of the bar’s door, and rolled his shoulders once before stepping inside.

“Mikleo! Good to see you,” Zaveid greeted him warmly. “You got quite a honey waiting for you, let me just—”

He scrutinized Mikleo up and down; straightening his clothes and collar, wiping Mikleo’s face with a warm washcloth and spinning him around once before he apparently passed muster as being date-ready. Satisfied, Zaveid bowed at the waist, and gestured to a table tucked into the corner; decorated with a fine tablecloth and a vase of fresh flowers, and where Mikleo’s date was waiting for him.

“I hope you found your way here okay,” Sorey said.

Sorey. A date, with Sorey. Mikleo could hardly hear his thoughts over his racing heart, and he stood rooted to the floor where he stood; staring at the sight before him. Sorey was dressed in a yukata that suited him just perfectly; the cut highlighting the strong line of his shoulders and broadness of his chest, the dark blue pattern setting off the sparkling gold of his hair. His movements flowed so gracefully and easily; the fabric looked like it had been tailored just for him – had his mother been plotting this all along, sewing and scheming late at night these past few weeks? Mikleo felt so horribly underdressed for the occasion. Before he could run off (or stand there staring any longer), Zaveid intervened and shoved him forward; marching him over to the table with his hands on his shoulders.

“Go on now. Be a gentleman, don’t keep him waiting.”

Mikleo sat heavily in the chair across from Sorey, and stared open-mouthed for a few moments before collecting himself enough to speak.

“I…Sorey, what is all of this…?”

Sorey sniffed and leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs primly and folding his hands in his lap.

“Is this how you treat all your dates?” Sorey asked in mock-offense. “Come on. You’re supposed to ask me about myself.”

Mikleo laughed helplessly – laughed for the first time in weeks, it seemed.

“Honestly, Sorey…okay, okay.”

Mikleo stood up, bowed at the waist, and held out his hand to Sorey. Sorey gave Mikleo his hand without hesitation, and Mikleo gave it a brief squeeze before leaning in to kiss his knuckles. He gazed at Sorey from under his lashes.

“It’s a pleasure to be asked out by someone so lovely. I hope you weren’t waiting too long.”

The gesture seemed to rob Sorey of that confidence he’d had just a few moments ago. Sorey squeaked and turned beet red, and cradled his kissed hand to his chest when Mikleo finally released it. “N-no. Not at all. I was just, you know, catching up on some reading…”

“Oh?” Mikleo asked. “What kind of things are you interested in reading?”

“Um. Well.”

Sorey took a moment to compose himself. Finally, he settled his dear hand in his lap, and gave Mikleo a shy smile.

“History books and travel journals are probably my personal favorites, but I secretly really love romance novels and poetry. Don’t make fun of me, okay?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Mikleo assured him. “Have you ever told anyone about that except for me?”

“No…no, I thought I’d get teased for it. The place where I live has a pretty big library, but not much in that category. A few, though. I’ve read them so many times, I could probably quote them word-for-word. I always secretly hoped they’d get more.”

“I can’t imagine how anyone could ever say no to you,” Mikleo said. “I’m sure your housemates would give you anything you asked for.”

Sorey laughed and reached up to play with his feather earring. “Well, I hear ‘no’ often enough. I need it sometimes, though. My housemate looks after me, and keeps me in line.”

Sorey reached out, stroked his fingers over the back of Mikleo’s hand.

“Enough about me, though. I want to hear more about you. What do you like to do in your free time? I’ve heard that your schedule is usually pretty packed.”

“Well,” Mikleo said. “I’m interested in historical preservation. I keep the nearby temple in the mountains, and like to unwind at the waterfall that’s around there. I like cooking, when I get the chance; desserts are my specialties. I like to read, as well. Travel and history.”

“I bet your vanilla ice cream is just the best,” Sorey said dreamily. “But I’m glad you have so much that you’re passionate about. Where do you think you see yourself in five or ten years?”

Mikleo raised an eyebrow. “Sorey. Is this a date or a job interview?”

“If we’re going to work in the long-term, I need to know what your career goals are,” Sorey said. “My family would never approve of me marrying a man without good prospects.”

Family…yes, of course Sorey had family of his own. Mikleo had known from the start that Sorey was a descendant of the great lord Zenrus, so it shouldn’t have been a surprise to hear. Regardless, Mikleo couldn’t help but blanch a bit, his heart skipping at the thought of having to prove himself to heavenly in-laws. He was from a well-established family, and had a good job, and had proper manners…but was that really enough to impress a whole family of gods?

Mikleo shook off the feeling. That could wait a few years. Right now, Sorey had asked him a question.

“I see myself with the one I love,” Mikleo said. “And you?”

Sorey cupped Mikleo’s hand, and covered it with his own.

“I want the one I love to be happy, even if him being happy means that we have to be apart for a little while,” he said. “I want him to be true to himself, and follow what he’s always dreamed of. And, since I can’t go with him right now, I want to take care of the home I share with him, to make sure that it’s even more beautiful when he comes back to me. I know he’ll come back, no matter what. And I’ll be right at the gates waiting to welcome him home.”

Mikleo couldn’t quite keep his hand from shaking. Sorey stroked his thumb over it, which only seemed to make it worse. Suddenly, Sorey was rising from his seat, rounding the table, and drawing Mikleo close to his chest, making soothing noises and stroking his hair. Mikleo tried to will the tears from his eyes before they stained Sorey’s beautiful clothes.

“Sorey,” Mikleo sobbed. “It won’t be the same without you. It won’t be right.”

“Mikleo…” Sorey sighed. “Have you ever wondered why we can change form? To make ourselves look like humans, or like other living things?”

Mikleo stared up at Sorey with swollen, red eyes.

“I…” he croaked out. He cleared his throat. “I, I suppose I’ve wondered, but…I thought it was just a…godly…thing.”

“I never really understood it, either,” Sorey admitted. “I mean, worship from humans and other creatures makes us strong, and helps us care for our domains. But we can live without it, especially if we don’t have any sort of domain we need to maintain – like me, when I was walking the earth. I loved watching humans, but it was always from afar. I was too afraid to get closer. And then I met a little boy who gave me his wet coat, and then I was able to take on this form, and…I understood. Taking on a human form lets us connect with humans, connect with other living creatures that we’ve bonded with, in a way that we never could otherwise. It lets us live by your side, and…and, u-um, start families, if you’re interested in that kind of thing…”

Mikleo’s mind barely had time to process the idea before Sorey continued.

“…and, that connection…it can let you live by my side, too. Forever, if you want it.”

If Mikleo had just heard him right, Sorey had just offered Mikleo a family, and eternity. Mikleo could scarcely believe his ears.

“You wouldn’t age, or get sick. You wouldn’t feel hunger or thirst. But…it can only be you, Mikleo. Just you, and no one else.” Sorey dropped his gaze, guilty. “Your friends and family would pass on without you. They’d go on to the next life, and you’d never see them again.”

There were tears at the edges of Sorey’s eyes, now. The sight made Mikleo’s heart fall from his chest.

“It’s just like I was afraid of, all those years. I wanted you to be by my side forever, but I could never ask that of you. It just…wasn’t right.”

“Sorey.” Mikleo went to his knees in front of Sorey, and took his hand in his own. “Are you asking me now?”

The look on Sorey’s face was one of perfect surprise, before it crumpled into tears. Mikleo nuzzled into Sorey’s palm, pressing kisses there, murmuring gentle reassurances while Sorey wept.

“Sorey. Please, ask me.”

Sorey shook his head fiercely, his earrings jingling with the motion.

“You don’t know what you’re asking, you don’t…you’ll see them grow old and die and you’ll have to just keep going, and there’ll be no one left who remembers them, and no one who understands…”

“I’ll have you. And you’ll have me,” Mikleo swore. “Forever.”

Sorey buried his face in his sleeve for a moment, then took a deep, shuddering breath. He lowered his arm, and his face was a mask of godly composure, with an underlying determination that brooked no argument.

“Travel with your uncle, see the world, and return to me in five years. Tell me stories, bring back gifts and treasures from your journey. After that, I’ll ask you. And you can accept, or deny. But no matter what your choice is, please remember that I’ll always be with you.”

Mikleo bowed low, pressing his forehead to the ground before Sorey’s feet.

“Yes, my lord. It will be as you say.”

There was still time to prepare to leave with Michael, and to explain the situation to his mother. Mikleo’s mind raced with thoughts of all that needed to be done – packing, planning, budgeting for all the romance and poetry books he’d be sending home. He rose to his feet, and gathered Sorey into his arms; hugging him tightly. Sorey returned the embrace with just as much fervor.

“Please be safe,” Sorey whispered. “Mao’s protection will be on you both, but…”

“I will,” Mikleo assured him. “We will. Can I ask something of you, as well?”

“Of course,” Sorey said. “Anything.”

Mikleo leaned in to Sorey’s ear, and pressed a brief kiss there.

“Think of some baby names while I’m away, won’t you?”

Mikleo could feel Sorey’s blush burning against his neck when he buried his face there.

“…o-okay.”

–

Chapter Directory

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[pengiesama]

Dies Caniculares (Fic, Mikleo/Sorey, Fantasy/God AU) (Chapter 1/6)

Title: Dies Caniculares (Chapter 1/6) Series: Tales of Zestiria Pairing: Mikleo/Sorey

Summary: Mikleo dreams of travelling the world, having exciting adventures like his uncle. Unfortunately, he lives a pretty boring life in the tiny mountain village of Camlann. If he's not working at his family's temple, he's having to deal with his mother's constant attempts to match-make him to every eligible girl in town.

He also happens to be best friends with a god. That god happens to be a dog, who happens to be able to turn into a frustratingly handsome young man. Complications, as they do, inevitably crop up.

CHAPTER ONE:

Mikleo gets dumped, gets his snacks stolen, and isn't allowed to get drunk -- but it's still a pretty good day regardless.

(CONTENT WARNING: shapeshifting, eventual mpreg.)

Link: AO3

This is a collaboration between me and @sensenaoya! I'm honored to be allowed to write for their wonderful AU, and even more honored to have their lovely art illustrating it!

Please heed all content warnings!

Check out my commission info here.

Read on Tumblr!

“We need to talk,” Himeko said gravely.

Mikleo gave a pained smile over the rim of his teacup, and lightly set it back down on its saucer.

“Of course,” he said. “What’s on your mind?”

Himeko took a deep breath, and launched into a screed that Mikleo had heard few dozen times before – in different voices, and with different finer details, but with the same overarching message.

Mikleo was twenty-four years old, and had earned something of a reputation in town and the surrounding villages. This reputation was not entirely undeserved, when looking at the hard facts: he’d dated and broken the hearts of roughly sixty-three percent of the eligible female population in a fifty-mile radius. However, Mikleo wasn’t a heartbreaker by choice. His mother was dead set on chaining him to the village by any means necessary, and “You Need to Settle Down and Start a Family” was her current weapon of choice; when “You Need to Honor Our Family’s Duty and Tend to the Temple” had failed to inspire piety. The thing was, Mikleo also had no interest in settling down and absolutely no interest in children, so Muse had elected to force him on dates with every unmarried woman that she passingly caught the name of. She was a one-woman matchmaking service, and it was quite impressive in its own way. Though Mikleo did wonder how she managed to keep up with the temple’s day-to-day needs while taking on this little side gig of hers.

(Idly, as Himeko went on and on, Mikleo wondered how it would go if he brought up that point during his and his mother’s next fight. It would probably go very badly.)

Although Muse’s zeal for matchmaking was abundant, the quality of the matches...left something to be desired. Not a single one of these little relationships had lasted longer than a few weeks, and most of them crashed and burned quite spectacularly. (Usually the “burning” wasn’t literal; one memorable breakup notwithstanding.) Mikleo knew that he wasn’t a good fit for these girls – they wanted a quiet little life in the village and somewhere between two and a dozen children, and he wanted nothing more than to leave this town and travel the world with his uncle. Their life goals were simply incompatible, and even when it came to the finer details of shared hobbies and interests, kindred passions...well, there simply weren’t any. Mikleo could only think of one other person other than his uncle who shared his passion for history, and he—

“—honestly, from the rumors going around about you, I thought you’d be more – you know, more pushy, more of a scoundrel! Ravishing me against walls and over tables! But you’re more affectionate with that raggedy dog of yours than you are with me!” Himeko declared.

Himeko was clearly waiting for Mikleo to deny it, to reaffirm his devotion to her. The table fell into an eerie silence. Mikleo stared evenly at her, his expression very carefully blank.

“...’raggedy’?” Mikleo repeated.

Himeko shifted uncomfortably under Mikleo’s piercing gaze, and hemmed and hawed a moment before collecting herself. “Y-yes, well, I don’t know how else you want me to describe it. That bizarre fur that it’s always shedding on everything, and smelling like it’s just rolled in something foul, and that brainless expression it always has on its face--”

“I’m sorry,” Mikleo interrupted. “This isn’t going to work out.”

Mikleo signaled for the check, and the waitress brought it over wordlessly – she’d been witness to enough of these breakups that she knew to prepare herself the moment Mikleo walked in the door. Himeko sputtered, turned cherry red, and snatched up her purse before bounding to her feet. She stood in front of Mikleo, glaring down at him where he sat. He maintained eye contact, and raised an eyebrow at her.

“I hope you and that mutt keep each other company, and have a long life together,” she snapped before storming out of the cafe.

Mikleo wondered if that was supposed to be an insult. He bent down to dig in his pack for his wallet. The waitress took his money, and began to clear up the table as Mikleo finished his tea.

“She keeps looking back over her shoulder,” said the waitress. (She was named Lily, and had once been subjected to Muse’s matchmaking quest as well. Her breakup with Mikleo was years in the past now, however, and her doting husband was the village’s baker.) “I think she’s expecting you to chase after her.”

“Is she now?” Mikleo asked flatly. He swirled the tea in his cup before he took a sip.

Lily chuckled and shook her head. “Well, at least this one didn’t slap you. I had a cold washcloth all ready for you just in case.”

“You’re too kind.” Mikleo rose to his feet, and bowed at his waist. “Sorry about the commotion. As usual.”

“Are you kidding? We get so many customers who come in to watch the show. I think there’s a betting pool.”

Mikleo was happy to hear that he was supporting the local economy, and less happy to hear that he was the town’s designated soap opera star. His long brown hair, tied back in a low ponytail, hid how his ears burned red. He bade Lily farewell, and ducked out the cafe’s side door. He had a busy day ahead of him, and couldn’t let the embarrassment of yet another very public breakup get to his head. He had appointments at two houses, today, and had to run back to the temple to dress beforehand, and listen to his mother tut about how he just wasn’t trying to make it work with all the perfectly lovely girls she’d picked out for him—

Mikleo’s thoughts were interrupted by the press of a cold wet nose against his hand. Mikleo jumped, then sighed, and tried his best not to smile. Sorey’s sparkling green eyes gazed up at him; his expression bright and curious. (“Brainless”. Honestly, one would have to be pretty empty-headed themselves to even – no, no, there was no point in going down that path. Mikleo was a single man once more, and moreover, brooding would do him no good during his upcoming house-calls.) Mikleo reached down to ruffle Sorey’s coat, and rub at his soft ears. Sorey whined happily, his tail picking up speed and his tongue poking out of his muzzle as he leaned his head in to relish Mikleo’s touch. Mikleo felt his heart ache with fondness. Honestly, what was he to do with him.

“Come on,” Mikleo said. “We need to head back to the temple before I’m late for my house visits.”

Sorey trotted in step beside Mikleo, matching his pace as he always did. Mikleo knew that Sorey had all the speed and grace of the lightning that pierced the sky, and that poking along this sleepy village street was surely beneath his dignity as a god – and yet Sorey still walked beside him, ever since that fateful day in front of the temple.

A foul smell reached Mikleo’s nose, jolting him from his reverie. He crinkled his nose, and eyed Sorey as they walked.

“...were you rolling in something?” Mikleo asked sternly.

Sorey flinched, and he looked up at Mikleo with soulful, apologetic eyes. His soft fluffy ears lowered, making him a portrait of sincere, smelly contrition. Mikleo had a special weakness for Sorey’s puppy-eye look, and did not appreciate having said weakness targeted. He averted his eyes and managed to keep walking, keep focusing on the important things – getting back to the temple, getting to his appointments, and the fact that Sorey smelled like musky garlic that’d been baking in the sun too long.

“Sorry,” Sorey said. They were at the temple’s steps, and no one was around to hear him speak. “I’m...guessing your date didn’t go too well?”

“Nope,” Mikleo replied. He was already over it, not that there was really anything to get over. Himeko was surely right for someone, but Mikleo had little patience for the dramatic princess act. “And don’t try to change the subject. What were you--”

“Mikleo!”

Mikleo looked up to see his mother, resplendent in her priestess robes, approaching him. Her smile was bright and hopeful, and Mikleo felt a twinge of annoyance at the sight of it. (And no little guilt at that fact.)

“You’re back! How did it go with Himeko today?”

“Horribly,” Mikleo stated. “We didn’t work out. I’m sure she’ll be cursing my name all over town for the next few months.”

Muse sighed heavily, but didn’t really seem to be surprised by the statement. “Mikleo. You really need to try a bit harder. These girls are all so lovely, and you don’t let them get to know you at all...”

Muse sniffed the air, made a face, and looked down to where Sorey had sat himself at her feet. Sorey beamed his sweet doggy smile up at her, and wagged his tail; lifting one hopeful paw to ask for pets.

“--Sorey, you--” Muse coughed at the foul smell and covered her nose with her long sleeves, but leaned down to delicately pat Sorey’s head in spite of the olfactory assault. “Mikleo, please...before you go, would you...”

“I’ll take care of him,” Mikleo assured her. “Don’t worry. I’m off to get ready for my appointments.”

Thankfully, being as Sorey was a holy spirit of heaven-on-high, it wasn’t blasphemous for Mikleo to firmly instruct him to go wash off in the ceremonial waterfall on the temple grounds while Mikleo took a bath inside. Mikleo would have simply had him bathe indoors with him if Sorey wasn’t quite so smelly, and if Mikleo didn’t have business to attend to after. Mikleo walked out of the baths and back to his room, to find that Sorey had returned in his absence.

“All clean!” Sorey announced, smiling bright. “Promise. I even washed behind my ears. In both forms!”

Sorey had transformed into his human form, and was seated on Mikleo’s bed; casual, cross-legged, and half-naked. A towel was draped around his strong, broad shoulders, and his dripping-wet hair seemed to sparkle in the noonday light filtering through Mikleo’s windows. Water wandered in trails down Sorey’s bare chest and back and arms, outlining his muscles and making his tan skin glow. The drips meandered down Sorey’s body so enviously casually, and settled dark and damp at the hem of his trousers. Mikleo had lived his whole life in the presence of divinity, in the sight of sculptures and etchings of perfect, heavenly forms. Mikleo had lived almost his whole life by Sorey’s side. This practice hardly prepared him to stand upright at the sight of Sorey in this state, but he managed.

“...you’re dripping on my bed,” Mikleo said quietly.

Sorey blinked at him, then down at the bed, then scratched at his cheek, embarrassed. “...sorry. But I got myself a towel!”

Yes, that tiny towel draped around those obscene shoulders of yours is doing so much for us right now, Mikleo thought to himself bitterly. He shook his head and averted his gaze (with no small effort), and went to his closet to dress.

“Just two houses today, if you want to tag along,” Mikleo said. His bath-robe fell to the floor around his feet. The cool air made goosebumps prickle along Mikleo’s bare skin. “I’m sure you’ve had a busy day already.”

A busy day of napping, chasing butterflies, and hitting up the village butcher for scraps. Mikleo turned with a smile on his face as he tied his robes into place, to see Sorey covering his eyes with both hands. Mikleo raised an eyebrow.

“Sorey. You’ve seen me dress before.”

Sorey peeped between his fingers.

“…yeah, but…”

Sorey trailed off, letting the rest of that statement hang between them. Mikleo sat down next to him on the bed, and settled a brush and hair tie in Sorey’s lap.

“Here. Help me put it up today, won’t you?”

Sorey’s face lit up as if Mikleo had offered him a fine spread of gourmet delicacies, and Mikleo dutifully turned to allow him to work. Mikleo let very few people touch his hair – none of the girls he’d dated had ever gotten the privilege – and even Sorey was granted permission only on special occasions. Mikleo was feeling sentimental, today, perhaps – or maybe he just was still stewing over that “raggedy” comment from earlier. Sorey brushed his hair gently, reverently; carding his fingers through the strands to coax it up. Mikleo let his eyes slide shut at the feeling. Honestly, “raggedy”. Sorey’s coat as a dog was soft as silk and glittered in the sun, and his hair as a human was pulled into a romantically-tousled high ponytail. He looked a bit rumpled, sometimes – when they came home from a hike through the forest, and Sorey managed to get more branches and leaves stuck in his hair than any of the actual bushes or trees – but his heavenly presence always shone through loud and clear. Mikleo didn’t have the time or patience for anyone who couldn’t see something so obvious.

“All done!” Sorey sounded proud.

Mikleo looked himself over in the mirror. Honestly, not a bad job at all.

“It’ll do for now,” Mikleo said. “Come on, we’ll be late.”

--

 The temple was called upon to bless and cleanse households and properties on a regular basis. Frequent cleansings prevented the buildup of malevolence, and decreased the strain on the region’s god, Maotelus. Malevolence built up more quickly in more populated areas, or in locales where bad energy was frequently generated – thus, a quiet village farm could get away with a cleansing only once or twice a year, while the village square called for weekly blessings. Family homes usually called upon the temple’s services every few months, and as the son of the temple’s head priestess, Mikleo often found himself making these house calls personally. The lower-ranked priests and priestesses were tasked with the repetitive and less personal cleanings of public areas, and the older, higher-ranked priests and priestesses served Maotelus directly. Mikleo didn’t envy the work of either faction, but visiting homes directly wasn’t a cakewalk either. Mikleo had to smile and make small talk and listen to gossip, and deal with the judgmental stares when he visited an ex-girlfriend’s family home. Worse, some of these places had barking dogs. All of these factors were equally unpleasant.

Luckily, neither of the homes today were overly-complicated appointments. Both had asked for a simple, straightforward blessing – armed with staff and holy sutras, Mikleo was able to sweep away the malevolence in the air and gathering in the corners of the foundation. Some homes were hotbeds of drama and sorrow, and required top-to-bottom cleanings with holy water – Mikleo usually was able to bring a few temple attendants as assistants to these difficult appointments. A certain amount of malevolence was a part of human existence, but if Mikleo suspected foul play, he reported his findings to his mother at the temple; Muse then saw to it that the source of the matter was investigated. A household continually generating bad energy was a strain on Maotelus, and a strain on the village’s harmony. It was Mikleo’s duty to determine what begged a closer look.

The sun was beginning to set, and Mikleo and Sorey were on their way home; Mikleo’s arms filled with offerings made by the household in thanks for the temple’s service. Homes presented many things as offerings, and today, Mikleo had lucked out and been presented with two boxes of beautifully-made sweets from the town’s bakery. The sweet bean paste filling each perfectly-round miniature cake was rich and smooth; the perfect complement to the subtle resistance the mochi shell gave to the bite of Mikleo’s teeth. Mikleo savored two treats from the box on the walk back, and Sorey – well, “savoring” wasn’t the term. It implied a certain level of care and slowness of consumption that Sorey absolutely did not do. However, he clearly enjoyed it; the drool was evidence enough.

They passed by Zaveid’s bar on the way back; the Spring Breeze. Mikleo eyed it, considering. He wanted very badly to get home and crawl into bed, but these sweets would be perfect with a drink or two…Mikleo felt Sorey tugging on the hem on his robe with his teeth, and looked down, frowning.

“Sorey. I can have a drink if I want to,” Mikleo said sternly.

Sorey made a whiny little howl, and tangled himself in Mikleo’s legs stubbornly. He couldn’t speak aloud to him – there were too many people around outside the bar – but he made enough of a nuisance of himself for Mikleo to give up and keep walking to the temple. Once they were out of earshot of the crowds, Mikleo requested an explanation.

Sorey’s ears went low, and those damn eyes of his stared up at him. Mikleo’s face flushed, and he managed to look away before the effect floored him.

“You can’t go in there looking…like that,” Sorey said. “Who knows what someone who’s had a few too many drinks will try to do!”

Mikleo didn’t really understand what Sorey was implying – he wasn’t planning on getting sloppy drunk while in temple dress, if he was concerned about Mikleo besmirching the temple’s good image. He also was fully capable of defending himself against some drunk who wanted to fight; not that Zaveid would let any of that go on in his bar. Still, the urge for a drink had passed, and they were back at the temple once more.

“I want to share some of these with Maotelus,” Sorey said, and stood in front of Mikleo until Mikleo slotted one of the boxes into Sorey’s waiting jaws for him to carry.

“Don’t sample too many on your way there,” Mikleo said, only half-joking. “I’ll go change and then come up to offer my respects.”

Maotelus was the region’s chief god, and the temple had the peerless honor of being his seat in the earthly realm. Mikleo did not see him often – after all, it was the job of the more senior temple staff to attend to him – but their past interactions had been wholly pleasant. Maotelus was warm, friendly, and as down-to-earth as a god could really be. He often asked about whatever Mikleo was currently reading or studying, and was just as excited to hear about what Mikleo’s uncle Michael was getting up to as Mikleo and Sorey were. He could have passed for another one of Mikleo’s uncles, if not for the fact that he took the form of a white dragon, about the size of a draft horse. His radiance and imposing figure was only undercut a bit by his youthful-sounding voice. Mikleo hadn’t ever seen him in a more human state – perhaps that kind of thing was improper for a god of his stature.

The rest of the temple was silent, devoid of any attendants rushing about – most had gone home for the day. True to his word, Mikleo climbed up to the highest part of the temple grounds, kowtowed at the gates, and went in to pay his respects.

“Mikleo! Good to see you.”

The greeting from Maotelus seemed a bit abrupt, a bit forced – as if Mikleo had walked in on a conversation that needed to remain a secret. Mikleo couldn’t pretend not to be curious (curiosity was in his nature, after all), but was a respectful man at heart – he knew better than to pry into godly business. Or…whatever he and Sorey were getting up to in their little clubhouse up here. Mikleo eyed the empty sweets boxes, and spied a teetering pile of more empty boxes stashed in a corner.

“Lord Maotelus,” Mikleo said, bowing low and placing his forehead upon the ground. “It’s an honor, as always.”

“Please, get up. Tell me what you’ve been up to lately.”

Mikleo shifted into a more comfortable position, and fixed the fall of his hair over his shoulder. “What can I say, really? Same as always. Uncle Michael should hopefully be visiting home soon; he’d have much more interesting things to tell you.”

“Will he?” Maotelus asked. He sounded almost relieved. “Good, that’s good.”

Maotelus seemed… he was still magnificent, of course, but he seemed smaller than Mikleo last remembered him. It was maybe just a trick of the waning light, or a fault in Mikleo’s memory. But the exhaustion written all over Maotelus’ face was no trick, to be certain. Mikleo felt a twinge of guilt. It was his duty to keep the town cleansed of malevolence, to decrease Maotelus’ strain on keeping the realm prosperous. Was he slacking on his appointments? Were his heartbreaking escapades causing a storm of negative energy to arise from the town’s distraught women? Mikleo fretted. He would have to scout the town tomorrow, to see if he could detect any increase in negativity.

“…I see that you enjoyed the offerings,” Mikleo observed.

“We did,” Maotelus agreed. “I…don’t suppose you could rustle us up some more next time you’re out?”

Sorey’s puppy eyes were hard enough to handle on their own, and paired with Maotelus’ pleading, hopeful look…well, Mikleo didn’t stand a chance.

“Of course,” Mikleo promised. “But don’t let Sorey steal all of them. He’s been getting a bit of a belly recently.”

“Hey!” Sorey said, offended. He scowled down at his stomach and poked it with a finger. “I have not.”

“I’ll try my best,” Maotelus said with a chuckle. “Now, why don’t you two head off to bed? It’s getting late.”

“Sure,” Sorey said. He leaned over to stroke Maotelus’ muzzle with his hand. “Night, Mao.”

“Good night, Lord Maotelus.”

They slipped out the grand door that led to Maotelus’ chambers and into the cool night air. Sorey had transformed back into his dog form, and trotted alongside Mikleo as they walked back to the temple’s living chambers.

“You and Maotelus seem to be close, lately,” Mikleo observed. “What have the two of you been getting into together? Hopefully nothing that the attendants will have to clean up after.”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Sorey assured before trotting ahead of Mikleo. “You promised to get us more sweets, though? Really promised?”

So, it was a secret, then. Mikleo tried not to feel hurt – since when did he and Sorey have any secrets between them? – and look at it logically. There were simply some things beyond mortal comprehension; godly business that humans had no business prying into. He could leave it at that, and try to quash the curiosity that still nagged at him.

Still, maybe he could buy himself a seat in Sorey and Maotelus’ clubhouse with some treats.

“Yes, yes, I really will. I’ll have the priests bring them up starting tomorrow.”

Sorey cast a beaming doggie smile over his shoulder, his tongue lolling out of his mouth joyously. Mikleo couldn’t help but smile back, and jogged to catch up with Sorey. The day was done, and tomorrow was yet to come – it was time to rest, and dream of the wide world outside the village gates.

And maybe, if luck was on his side, Muse would give him a few days’ break before setting up another date.

–

Chapter Directory

First - Next - Last

[pengiesama]

Dies Caniculares (Fic, Mikleo/Sorey, Fantasy/God AU) (Chapter 3/6)

Title: Dies Caniculares (Chapter 3/6) Series: Tales of Zestiria Pairing: Mikleo/Sorey

Summary: Mikleo dreams of travelling the world, having exciting adventures like his uncle. Unfortunately, he lives a pretty boring life in the tiny mountain village of Camlann. If he’s not working at his family’s temple, he’s having to deal with his mother’s constant attempts to match-make him to every eligible girl in town.

He also happens to be best friends with a god. That god happens to be a dog, who happens to be able to turn into a frustratingly handsome young man. Complications, as they do, inevitably crop up.

CHAPTER THREE:

Mikleo almost has a pleasant date, but is interrupted by a dastardly plot and has to make use of men in black suits and a getaway car. (The last time he was in the city he found a dead body in the water supply, so it's still an improvement.)

(CONTENT WARNING: shapeshifting, eventual mpreg.)

Link: AO3

This is a collaboration between me and @sensenaoya! I’m honored to be allowed to write for their wonderful AU, and even more honored to have their lovely art illustrating it!

Please heed all content warnings!

Check out my commission info here.

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Sorey yawned wide, and settled his muzzle on his paws. He considered himself a morning person – certainly he was in comparison to how grouchy Mikleo was in the mornings, not that gods really needed sleep, normally – but it got lonely and dull waiting for Mikleo to get back from his early morning appointments. It made Sorey want to find a sunbeam to lie down in, and sleep away the hours where he couldn’t see Mikleo’s smiling face.

A warm breeze ruffled Sorey’s feathered coat, like a gentle hand. He sighed at the feeling, and let his eyes drift shut, letting his imagination wander.

He imagined a morning spent with Mikleo at the shrine, lounging on the stairs, feeling the air begin to warm around them, listening to the low sound of chatter from the attendants tending to visiting worshippers. He imagined Mikleo’s hand in his hair, his hand on his cheek, his hand in his own. He imagined not having to hide in his dog form; imagined being able to stand next to Mikleo. He imagined being able to have people look at the two of them, and whisper the same gossip that Sorey sometimes overheard while trotting through town on four legs.

What a pair. A splendid match. Muse must be over the moon. Perhaps we’ll see some little ones around the temple grounds soon.

Sorey had travelled for hundreds of years, alone, without suffering overmuch for the lack of company. He had always loved humans; loved watching them live out their too-short lives, loved watching them grow and learn and make bonds. But, all the same, he always held himself back. He was always the observer; the scholar, studying a culture he couldn’t hope to ever really know. However, that fateful night in his grandfather’s old temple had changed all of that, it seemed. The lonely ache in Sorey’s chest was almost pleasant, in its own way. In Sorey’s more solemn moments, he understood that it was an ache that he would have to learn to cherish. In eighty, ninety years, when Mikleo couldn’t be with him ever again, Sorey would have to face down the wide world alone once more, with memories and the ache to last him a thousand years and then some.

A familiar scent reached Sorey’s nose, and his ears perked up; welcoming the interruption of such melancholy thoughts. Mikleo was back from his morning appointments, and it was Sorey’s (self-appointed) job to greet him. Sorey got up and shook out his coat, and gave brief regard to the feathers that flew loose with the motion. Maybe Mikleo would tut at the sight of his molting coat and insist on brushing him that afternoon. Sorey felt his tail begin to wag, unbidden, at the very thought. He bounded off, tail going and tongue out, to race toward the temple gates.

However, once the gates were in sight, he was greeted with an unsettling sight: Mikleo and Muse, arguing fiercely.

“—this has to stop, mother, all of this has to stop—”

“Oh, does it? And why is that?”

“Because it’s a waste of everyone’s time! None of the matches you’ve talked up so much have lasted more than three months.”

“Because you don’t put in the effort. It takes two!”

“Oh, so it’s all my fault? It couldn’t be because I don’t have anything in common with any of these girls? And it couldn’t be because some of those girls were misinformed by their matchmaker on my goals in life? It couldn’t, maybe, just a little, be a bit your fault as well? It takes two, after all.”

Mikleo had had disagreements with his mother before, especially regarding this topic. But this was angrier than Sorey had ever seen Mikleo or Muse. Sorey regretted dallying along on the way here, and rushed down to intervene.

“You’re expecting to meet someone that shares all your hobbies and dreams exactly? An exact clone of yourself, perhaps?” Muse shot back. “You’re too young to realize how foolish that is! If you’d even tried to meet any of these girls halfway, any of them, you would have been married a year in. You’re the one being stubborn and lazy, Mikleo; and hurtful, and disrespectful at that—”

“Let’s talk about disrespect,” Mikleo started in. “About how these torrid affairs have smeared our family’s name in town, and damaged the reputation of the temple. Have you visited Maotelus, recently? There’s something wrong with him, something making him weak and sick, and you can bet that it’s related to all the negative energy this idiotic soap opera is stirring up in town. Malevolence is building up faster than ever, and soon, it’ll be faster than we’ll be able to keep up with.”

No, no. That wasn’t why Maotelus was so tired and weak. It wasn’t the reason at all. Sorey knew the real issue; Maotelus had told him, with strict instructions to never speak of it to anyone, not even Mikleo. Sorey understood why – it would be something that would break Mikleo’s heart, and shatter his dreams. Sorey would sooner die than see either thing happen. But even though he was honor-bound forbidden from revealing the truth, Sorey could at least break up this disagreement between two of the people he loved the most.

Sorey tore in full-throttle, and jumped up on Mikleo to slobber kisses all over his face. Mikleo squawked at the sudden interruption, and stumbled back under Sorey’s weight. Once Mikleo was suitably covered in drool, Sorey disengaged and descended upon his next target. He swirled around Muse’s legs, whimpering piteously, rubbing his feathered coat all over her temple robes. He stared up at her with soulful eyes, and let his tongue blep out of his mouth just so. Muse was just as weak to his puppy-eyed looks as Mikleo was, and Sorey tried his best not to abuse his power unless it was absolutely necessary – like it was here, to break up a fight, or like it was last week, when Muse had fresh meat buns from the temple kitchen.

Thankfully, his intervention seemed to be just the thing needed to disrupt the argument. Muse tsked at him, and leaned down to stroke his head. Sorey’s eyes slid closed as her fingers crept behind his ear. Oh, Mikleo’s skill at petting was clearly passed down through the generations.

“Oh, Sorey,” Muse sighed. “Shedding again. It must be this summer heat. I’ll brush you out later today.”

Sorey whuffed in gratitude. He felt Mikleo’s gaze on him, and he cracked open one eye to meet it. Mikleo…was still ruffled in more ways than one, but was clearly grateful for Sorey’s help; and more than a little abashed.

“I’ll go on the date,” Mikleo said quietly. “Where is it today?”

“In Ladylake,” Muse said. Her shoulders straightened out, and she recovered from her mood to puff up a bit in pride. “You’ll be meeting the mayor’s daughter in the city’s most exclusive café.”

Mikleo’s jaw dropped. “Ladylake!? That’s two hours away by train!”

Muse’s hand slipped into her robes to produce a train ticket. “Yes, but the mayor ensured you’ll be travelling in comfort. He wants a good match for his youngest child, and asked me directly to have you court her. You made quite the impression on him during last year’s exorcism.”

Ladylake was a huge city, and huge cities generated a similarly huge amount of malevolence. Normally, this was tended-to by the city’s own staff of priests, but last year saw the city’s underground system of aqueducts grow so thick with cursed miasma that the city’s officials were dropping left and right. In desperation, the mayor – Mayor Diphda, Mikleo recalled – had reached out to the temple at Camlann, having heard rumors of the power of the gods that was hosted there. He paid a tidy sum to have a retinue of Camlann’s finest priests (and Mikleo) come to Ladylake to try their hands at the city’s salvation.

Mikleo had studied Ladylake’s aqueducts for years on paper, and had been thrilled to see them in-person, even though the circumstances weren’t…ideal, perhaps. Even with this study under his belt, it was difficult at first to pinpoint where the source of the blight was located in the aqueduct’s many winding paths. He stayed up for days, pouring over maps and textbooks with Sorey, and on the third day – buried under papers and with ink-stained hands – they deduced that the source was located directly underneath Ladylake’s city hall.

Now, this in itself was hardly surprising, and perhaps that was why the city’s officials rolled their eyes at Mikleo when he presented his findings. The city’s seat of government was a hotbed of malevolence and corruption? Water was wet, the sky was blue, and there had to be another source to blame for the malevolence seeping through the street drains and through kitchen faucets. Unheeded but undaunted, Mikleo descended into the aqueducts with Sorey at his side. They would find the source of the taint, and get to see the aqueducts’ ancient stonework up-close. Two birds with one stone.

One brief but exciting expedition, and down one howling ghost who had been assured that justice would be served, the aqueducts were cleared of malevolence…and they had a corpse on their hands. It was the body of a government official who had been missing for weeks, and – from the gossip Mikleo and Sorey had heard around town over their visit – he was a man who had been the leader of the opposition in the city council against the mayor’s plans to permit mining in the sacred mountains surrounding Ladylake.

“Mining in those mountains would loosen minerals into the groundwater,” Sorey had whispered to him in concern. “It would taint the whole city’s water supply, and make so many people sick. And those are the mountains that border Camlann, so Camlann could wind up sick too…”

“You’re not concerned about humans besmirching holy ground for profit?” Mikleo asked.

Sorey looked a little embarrassed. “Well, we name things sacred for a reason. The gods probably declared that land was ‘sacred’ because they knew it was dangerous for humans to develop it. But I guess it’s sacred to me, personally. I wouldn’t want them knocking down my grandfather’s old temple, or damming up the river that feeds our waterfall.”

Mikleo was just one man, and an outsider at that. He had no sway in Ladylake’s political circus, even if it could potentially wind up harming Camlann. He could only give a statement to the city’s police force, and pray that Maotelus’ protection would stay strong enough to protect the mountain that held so many sacred, precious things.

So much for that. He was stepping off a first-class cab on a train, and climbing into a car that was waiting to spirit him off to a date with a potential murderer’s daughter. He was without a single friendly face. (Sorey had stayed back in the village, watching after him mournfully as the train pulled away. The train didn’t allow pets. Mikleo wondered if they had a discount rate for local gods.) How could his mother even entertain this match? He had told her of the whole incident, of his suspicions and concerns. Surely she didn’t expect him to marry this girl, and use that to sway the mayor’s opinion…

As Mikleo stepped into the café and looked around, he felt entirely out of his element – as if he didn’t feel that way the moment he’d left Camlann. The city was so loud and busy, and this café looked so exclusive. Had Ladylake always been like this? Had he only been able to bear it because Sorey was with him? It did not bode well for Mikleo’s dreams of travelling the world, that was for certain. An older woman in an understated but well-tailored robe approached him, and bowed.

“We thank you for coming out all this way, good sir Mikleo,” the woman said. “Allow me to bring you to the young mistress’ private booth.”

Mikleo returned the bow, murmuring niceties, and followed the woman as she walked. He briefly entertained the thought of running away, but wasn’t sure if he’d be able to make it back to the train station on his own. Nor was he certain he could make his way out of the café on his own – he was led deeper and deeper through the luxuriously-decorated halls, and was thoroughly disoriented.

“Lady Alisha. Your suitor has arrived.”

“Thank you,” said the girl waiting in the private room. “Mikleo, was it? From Camlann.”

“Yes,” said Mikleo, a bit more tersely than intended. He heard the door shut behind him, and saw little option to do much other than sit down across from the girl – Alisha. “It’s a pleasure.”

Alisha gave a tight smile. “Y-yes, it’s a pleasure. I hope the trip was uneventful.”

“It was…” Mikleo trailed off, and caught a glimpse of the book Alisha had been reading when he walked in, and was now trying to stealthily slide off the table. “…is that the Celestial Record?”

Alisha visibly perked up, and hesitantly slid the book back onto the table. “Y-yes! Have you read it?”

“My uncle wrote it,” Mikleo said, with no little fondness and pride. “I read it when it was in its first draft.”

Alisha’s eyes went huge, and she gripped both sides of the book in her excitement. “Y-you did!?” she exclaimed. “Have you seen the original journals Mr. Rulay wrote his notes upon? Oh, I’ve always wanted to see them for myself…”

“No you don’t. His handwriting is terrible,” Mikleo said. “And most of them have some sort of horrible stain on them. But really, they’re fascinating. They go into more detail than the Celestial Record had the page space for, and they have a certain aura about them, it’s a…”

“Spirit of adventure,” Alisha said dreamily. “Yes, that’s how I imagined them.”

Alisha was blonde of hair and had eyes like new leaves in spring. She had the poise of a noble lady, and the easy, bright smile of a young maiden. Her violet robes gave her a summery sort of look, and the color suited her well. Her copy of his uncle’s book was well taken care of, and clearly well-loved; its pages dotted with bookmarks of every color and little slips of paper to mark notes on. For the first time since all this matchmaking nonsense started, Mikleo was actually…well. He could maybe entertain the thought of lasting more than three months with Alisha.

They took tea and lunch in their private booth, and chatted non-stop all the while. Alisha, like Mikleo, dreamed of seeing the world. But alas, as a politician’s daughter, she did not have the option to travel far and wide unescorted, nor the option to see the world as it truly was – the busy city streets and endless forests, the real world, not the carefully-curated world of exclusive teahouses and state dinners. However, she said, rising from her seat and offering her hand to Mikleo, she could at least show him around Ladylake.

“I understand that you likely did not get the chance the last time you were here, on business,” Alisha said. “I would love to show you some of our proudest landmarks, like the Great Waterwheel, and the Great Sanctuary…”

“Sounds great,” Mikleo said, making Alisha chuckle.

They left the café, with Alisha’s handmaid and a few men in dark suits following them at a respectful distance; allowing the “lovebirds” their privacy. Alisha was a wealth of information about the history of her city, and her running commentary on various landmarks was nothing less than riveting. Even his uncle’s book didn’t go into this much detail – he could almost hear Uncle Michael’s old rants about his publisher cutting out chapters’ worth of text. Alisha smiled up at him in the noontime sun, and…

…

…her pale blonde hair was the wrong shade, her green eyes were not rich enough in color. Mikleo shook off the feeling, and sighed. His mother was right. No matter what, it seemed like he’d never be satisfied with any match.

“Alisha,” Mikleo began. “I—”

“Little miss Diphda, out for a walk! What’s your father up to today!?”

“Selling us out for more gold to line his pockets!”

Mikleo looked up and around at the source of the jeers, and found that a small crowd had gathered across the street to sling accusations at Alisha. Alisha kept her back straight, and turned to address the crowd.

“Please, citizens of Ladylake!” she said, in a loud, clear voice, over the voices of the crowd. “I assure you, my father is not planning on allowing the desecration of the sacred peaks of Lakehaven!”

“That’s news to the mining guilds! They’ve been building some biiiiig machines lately!”

“Justice for Councilman Pellinore!”

“Pellinore rolls in his grave!”

A black car rolled up, and Alisha’s handmaid and bodyguards firmly and quickly took Mikleo and Alisha by the arm and all-but-shoved them inside. The door shut, cutting off the sound of the crowd outside. They were in their own separate cab from the driver and Alisha’s retinue, maintaining their privacy, so their courtship could continue. As if it could. Mikleo was silent, and could not quite meet Alisha’s eyes. Alisha, likewise, seemed to have retreated in on herself.

Finally, Alisha spoke up.

“I am sorry that you had to be caught up in Ladylake’s troubles,” Alisha said, and seemed entirely sincere at that.

“I was the one who found Pellinore’s body,” Mikleo said, without even thinking. What was he saying? “Underneath city hall, poisoning the aqueducts.”

Alisha looked at him in the eye, her expression heavily with sorrow. “You are a priest of the temple in the holy mountain. You can hear the voices of the gods?”

“I can,” Mikleo said.

“Can you also hear the voices of the dead?”

“I can.”

Alisha was quiet for a minute or so. She breathed.

“Did you speak to Lord Pellinore’s spirit? When you found his remains.”

“I did. He said he suspected your father was the one who ordered his death.”

Alisha’s next breath was ragged, and she took a moment to compose herself, dotting at her eyes with her hankie.

“I’m sorry,” Alisha said. “I have no right to weep. I’ve denied my family’s sins for too long, ignored all the evidence.”

Mikleo didn’t really feel the right to comfort this girl that he’d just met, and awkwardly reached out to pat her shoulder. She gave him a watery smile.

“I’m so sorry, Mikleo. Truth be told, this…I’m not very interested in this matchmaking business…”

Mikleo breathed out a sigh, and couldn’t help cracking a smile. “That’s one more thing we have in common, it seems.”

Alisha laughed, and some of the stress seemed to leave her posture. “Wonderful, that’s wonderful. I…I already have someone, you know. I can’t tell my father, it’d cause such a scandal. But she’s so beautiful, and exotic, and mysterious…”

An image flashed across Mikleo’s mind, of Rose and her bizarre costume choices. He knew better than to meddle in his friend’s love life, but he hoped Rose was being sincere when she referred to Alisha as more than just another fling. And he hoped that she was kidding about the wicked king assassination thing. Sorey always told Mikleo that she had the scent of blood about her.

“…do you also have someone in your heart, Mikleo?” Alisha asked curiously.

Golden hair and emerald eyes and a smile that blazed like lightning in a storm. The thought shook Mikleo’s heart.

“…no one in particular,” Mikleo said. “But I wish you the best with your special someone. And please, don’t stop pursuing your dreams. That’s a promise we can both hold each other to.”

“Yes,” Alisha agreed. “We’ll meet again and trade travel stories, I hope. My flower and I, and maybe someday, you and your one and only.”

The car dropped Mikleo off at the train station, and Alisha waved at him through the window before the car pulled away. She had directed one of her bodyguards to keep watch over the train station, to ensure Mikleo’s safety while he waited for the train to come. Mikleo didn’t have time enough to raise his hackles at being watched, before he realized that he was already being watched by a familiar figure.

“Sorey?” Mikleo said, shocked.

Sorey was in dog form, and was sitting near the outdoor gardens at the station, watching Mikleo out of the corner of his eye. He was very clearly sulking. Mikleo spotted an ice cream vendor nearby, and bought a vanilla cone before jogging over to Sorey.

“Sorey. You’re here,” Mikleo said, with no little surprise. “How did you…?”

Sorey turned up his nose at the ice cream Mikleo offered, and huffed through his muzzle.

“I can fly, you know,” Sorey said snippily. “These feathers aren’t just for show.”

Mikleo was aware of that little fact about Sorey, but that didn’t explain why he followed him here. The ice cream was melting onto his hand, and he gave his fingers a quick lick. Sorey stiffened, and looked away again.

“Sorey.” Mikleo offered the ice cream again. “You must be starving. And it’s hot out. Please, have this.”

“You should probably share that with Alisha,” Sorey said, almost accusingly. “It looked like you two had such a nice time together today. And you went sightseeing without me.”

Mikleo dotted the tip of Sorey’s nose with the ice cream, and watched as Sorey was helpless but to lick it off.

“How long were you watching us?”

“I saw you go into the café, and then walk off for a city tour arm-in-arm.”

“So, you didn’t see the crowd yelling at Alisha. Or how we got shoved into an unmarked black car to escape in one piece.”

Sorey stared at him in shock, his eyes softening in concern.

“…no, I didn’t,” he admitted. “Mikleo, are you alright? What happened?”

Mikleo told him the whole story, feeding Sorey the melting ice cream as he spoke.

“…so she’s already got someone in her heart, and we have more reason to be concerned about Rose’s extracurricular activities,” Mikleo finished.

Sorey nuzzled up to him, his previous sulky mood completely absent. Mikleo accepted the affection greedily, and buried his face in Sorey’s silky neck.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you,” Sorey said quietly.

“I’m glad you were safe elsewhere,” Mikleo replied. “Plus I know you get really nauseous in cars.”

Sorey huffed again. “That was one time!”

Mikleo laughed in delight, and heard announcements for the approaching train.

“I’ll hop on that train and head home,” Mikleo said. “Will you be okay flying back?”

“Of course!” Sorey said, with a doggy smile as bright as his human one. “I’ll beat you there. Meet me up in Maotelus’ chamber, and you can tell us both all about Ladylake?”

“Of course,” Mikleo replied. “It’s a date.”

Before Mikleo could realize what had happened, Sorey stole a quick kiss to his cheek, leaving the heavy smell of vanilla and a lingering tingle of warmth. Mikleo watched Sorey trot off into the gardens, toward a secluded patch of trees to mask his takeoff. He barely heard the bells announcing his train, and very nearly missed it, were it not for the station attendant approaching him directly.

He sank into his seat on the train, and watched the countryside fly by, with thoughts of touring Ladylake again with Sorey by his side racing through his mind.

–

Chapter Directory

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[pengiesama]

Dies Caniculares (Fic, Mikleo/Sorey, Fantasy/God AU) (Epilogue)

Title: Dies Caniculares (Epilogue) Series: Tales of Zestiria Pairing: Mikleo/Sorey

Summary: Mikleo dreams of travelling the world, having exciting adventures like his uncle. Unfortunately, he lives a pretty boring life in the tiny mountain village of Camlann. If he’s not working at his family’s temple, he’s having to deal with his mother’s constant attempts to match-make him to every eligible girl in town.

He also happens to be best friends with a god. That god happens to be a dog, who happens to be able to turn into a frustratingly handsome young man. Complications, as they do, inevitably crop up.

EPILOGUE:

A star, to guide you home.

(CONTENT WARNING: shapeshifting, mpreg.)

Link: AO3

This is a collaboration between me and @sensenaoya! I’m honored to be allowed to write for their wonderful AU, and even more honored to have their lovely art illustrating it!

Please heed all content warnings!

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Five years.

Five years of travel, five years of seeing the world in all its splendor. Five years, and he could do it for five more, and five more after that. There was still so much more to see, so much more to experience. He and his uncle had hardly covered one continent – the ocean’s horizon awaited, and beyond, foreign ruins and libraries, towns and cities both great and small, volcanic peaks and snowy fields. People to meet, people to learn from. And many, many books to get through.

But.

There had been five years of longing, five years of aching, five years of letters and gifts, of restless nights and equally restless dreams. His feelings remained the same, after all this time. It would take longer than a scant few years to make Mikleo forget about the other half of his heart. It would take more than miles of distance. This love would remain in his breast until the end of time, until the ends of the earth.

But…

Mikleo couldn’t help but fret about whether the feeling was still mutual.

“…and I don’t want to tie him into something that he was only interested in five years ago,” Mikleo continued to babble into his phone. “People change. Gods change. And, and maybe he’s forgotten about me, or resents me for leaving him to waste away in a temple atop a mountain when he could have been travelling too, and—”

There were crunching noises coming from the other end of the line. Almost like someone was eating potato chips directly into the receiver, heedless of Mikleo’s emotional turmoil.

“Refresh my memory,” said Rose on the other end. “When did his last letter come through?”

“Yesterday,” Mikleo said. “Rose, that’s not the point. Sorey takes too much responsibility on himself. He doesn’t complain. He doesn’t say when things are wrong. I could be forcing him into something he doesn’t want, and he would feel compelled to just go along with it…”

“So your solution is to make the decision for him, and just never come back?”

“That’s not—” Mikleo pressed his thumb into the spot between his brows and sighed. “You don’t understand.”

“I guess I don’t. But those are your options: go back to town, or don’t. And from the way that you’ve mooned over him for the past five years, it seems like a pretty dumb decision to me if you—”

Mikleo heard Alisha’s voice in the background of the call, yelling at Rose for eating chips in the bed. Then approaching footsteps. Rose made a panicked noise, and there were brief sounds of a scuffle before the sound of racing feet.

“Gotta go. Trouble in paradise,” Rose said, breathless. Mikleo heard Alisha bark out a “halt” in the distance. “I trust your judgement and wish the two of you the best of luck hope you find the answer that lies deep in your heAAAHHHHH—!”

The call dropped. Mikleo sighed, and looked to where his uncle was sleeping across from him in the train car.

The jewelry box in the breast pocket of Mikleo’s jacket seemed so intensely present; a glowing, hot coal. Painless but impossible to ignore. He idly touched it, to confirm it was still there; to confirm that it hadn’t somehow burned a hole in the fabric and launched itself off the train within the five minutes that had passed since Mikleo last checked it.

They’d be arriving soon. And he could only hope and pray that he wasn’t about to pressure Sorey into something that he didn’t truly want.

 --

 “I just hope your mother hasn’t filled up my room with old temple ledgers and spare robes. I need to spend tonight getting my notes in order, not hauling out boxes...”

Michael made a face, then pressed his thumb into the spot between his brows and sighed; doubtlessly thinking deep thoughts about the writing process and the devious distractions posed by household chores. Just as Mikleo was headed home to Sorey after these five years of travel, Michael would be taking a break from his travels and staying at the temple for a while as well. Mikleo never thought he’d see the day. Ostensibly, it was to write a new novel -- though his uncle had always managed to write his others on the road in the past – but Mikleo suspected that he was doing it as a courtesy to Sorey and Maotelus. The protective domain over the two of them was surely tiring to keep up.

“I think I should probably be worried about the same thing,” Mikleo admitted. “Mom always complained about never having enough storage space. I’m sure I’ll be sleeping in a guest room tonight.”

“Hmm. I’m not sure if either of us merit use of one of the good guest rooms. Maybe Mao will let us crash with him for the evening.”

His uncle’s humor could politely be called “dry”, and impolitely called “morbid” or “blasphemous”. In any case, it was just inappropriate enough to break the tension, and give Mikleo the first laugh he’d had since boarding the train at four AM that morning, with no sleep, nothing in his stomach but train station coffee, and an engagement ring in his pocket.

They had arrived only a scant hour ago, and were walking down the streets of Camlann as the sun set, taking in the scenery that they hadn’t laid eyes on in years. The sleepy storefronts filled Mikleo with a warm nostalgia that he wouldn’t have thought possible a few years ago, when all he wanted to do was escape. There was the little cafe where he’d had date after disastrous date, there was the spot across the street where Sorey would wait for him. There was the grocery where he would buy snacks for their afternoon picnics by the waterfall, for their hikes up to the temple. There was the Spring Breeze, where he’d been told to follow his dreams by the love of his life.

And there was the temple on the hill, where Sorey had been cooped up for five years, all so Mikleo could travel and be selfish. Mikleo felt his feet turn into lead at the bottom of the temple steps.

“Mikleo,” Michael said wearily. “We have a lot of stairs to climb, and I’m very tired of being on my feet.”

“I,” Mikleo began. “What if he doesn’t want to see me?”

Michael stared at him in silence for several long moments, and then wordlessly continued to climb the steps. Mikleo made a frantic noise and followed after him, still babbling.

“He’s been stuck here. Stuck here while I see the world. He could’ve been anywhere, doing anything, and he had to be here instead, straining himself to take care of the town, to take care of us while we galivant around, and…”

They reached the top of the steps, and saw…

Nothing. No one waiting for them.

Mikleo felt himself go cold, and his racing heart from climbing the steps stuttered to a stop in his chest. Michael seemed to expect this, and continued on towards the main door to the temple’s living quarters.

“I didn’t tell Muse when we were getting in. Used to, but trains would always get delayed and she’d give me an earful when I was late. Let’s head inside and announce ourselves there.”

Mikleo swallowed, and focused on putting his feet properly on the ground. Of course they wouldn’t be up here waiting for them, with banners and doves and Sorey carried in on a palanquin, wrapped in seven silk scarves. What was he expecting? The temple had its daily duties to attend to, just as it always did. Sorey, too, had work to do. They couldn’t just sit around for them to finally trudge in, especially when it was already so late...

It really had been too long. Otherwise, surely Mikleo would have noticed the approach of the feathered torpedo that was barreling at Mikleo at top speed. He was, after all, as unsubtle as he had ever been.

Mikleo had tried to plan out how this reunion would go. He would be composed, and gracious; bowing low to Sorey’s feet, before rising and taking him in his arms. But the pain of hitting the carved stone pathway was utter bliss. It throbbed through his bruised backside, and his bumped head made Sorey’s face look haloed in warm white light – though surely that wasn’t much of an exaggeration. Mikleo sobbed and buried his face into the familiar softness of Sorey’s feathered coat, wrapped his arms around him tight, and felt utterly unwilling to ever move from this spot – to ever leave this moment. But, Sorey couldn’t seem to keep still for long; twisting and wriggling his doggy body in Mikleo’s arms, his tail thumping hard against Mikleo’s legs, trying to steer himself to slobber kisses all over Mikleo’s face.

“You’re home, you’re home, Mikleo…”

Mikleo would have preferred his welcome-home kiss to have been provided by Sorey in his human form, as it probably would have involved less saliva in his hair. Still, he couldn’t help his joyous laughter. Nor could he stop the tears at the sound of Sorey’s voice. So happy to see him, unchanged by their separation, unchanged by the years and distance. It filled Mikleo with -- with a sort of reckless bravery that he knew he had to take advantage of before he lost his nerve.

“Sorey. Sorey, I need to see your hand.”

Sorey flopped one paw on Mikleo’s face and continued to slobber and blubber all over him. Mikleo struggled upright with Sorey in his lap.

“I see you haven’t forgotten how to shake, at least. I meant your human hand. I need to show you something.”

Sorey paused and eyed him up and down. The wheels in that beautiful mind of his were visibly turning.

Mikleo’s heart leapt into his throat. Did he suspect what was coming? He’d sent Sorey so many books over the years: journals, fiction, poetry books. Trashy romance novels. He probably had a collection rivalling most city libraries at this point -- Muse always told Mikleo that he was usually through them within an afternoon. With that kind of education and devoted study, surely Sorey could recognize the wind-up to a proposal from a mile away. Mikleo had wanted it to be a surprise, but...but according to the relationship studies Mikleo had read up on, the most successful marriages discussed a proposal in theory before putting it into practice. Maybe springing this on Sorey was a mistake, and they should wait until Mikleo was settled before talking about it, and…

Sorey veiled himself in light, and after but a moment, he emerged from under the veil in his human form; just as beautiful as Mikleo remembered him. He reached out one warm, strong hand, and placed it atop Mikleo’s. He tilted his head until he caught Mikleo’s nervous gaze, and waited.

Before he could properly parse the action, Mikleo realized he had taken the jewelry box out of his jacket pocket. The ring inside caught the light of the setting sun on the white-gold metal. It was a simple design: a single, artfully swirled metal knot at its face, and no gemstones to get caught or loosened while they hiked and climbed. It was also deceptively complex, to anyone who understood the meaning behind the ancient design – though maybe the weeks of research into Asgardian knot-tying rituals just classified it as hopelessly nerdy, instead. He thought it suited Sorey well, and hoped Sorey felt the same. What if he wanted something else...?

Sorey lifted his hand from where it rested, and held it aloft for Mikleo. By some miracle, he managed to get the ring on Sorey’s finger without dropping it. No sooner than he’d accomplished that, was Sorey sobbing and babbling and clinging to him again, kissing him over and over between words, between syllables of words.

“Mikleo, Mikleo, yes, yes, I love it, I do, Mikleo…”

Thankfully, Uncle Michael had excused himself from the scene. Mikleo wanted Sorey all to himself for a while.

 --

 Mikleo awoke to the feeling of Sorey’s lips on his own, and the press of his body against his side.

He groaned into his mouth. He wasn’t protesting the kiss. Nor did he resent Sorey’s proximity. He just wasn’t sure he could provide what Sorey was looking for, if Sorey was looking for another round. Mikleo wrapped his arms around Sorey to keep him still, and broke the kiss to lean his cheek against his golden head. Sleep now. Fuck later. Please, gracious heavenly creature, have mercy upon this poor mortal.

Mikleo knew in theory that he should’ve expected this kind of stamina from a god, but it was one thing hypothesizing about it (at night, with his hand wrapped around himself), and quite another thing experiencing it firsthand. He’d only just gotten home the night before, and the thought of getting to rest a while longer in bed was just as alluring as the thought of tending to his fiance’s needs.

“Mikleo?” Sorey said softly. He poked him in the stomach. “Are you awake?”

“Mmfmgdmgmggfff,” said Mikleo.

“Okay! So…”

Sorey wriggled out of Mikleo’s grip and sat up. He was wearing Mikleo’s discarded shirt from the night before; unbuttoned and open, showing his chest – the subtle curve of his pectorals, and the lines of muscle trailing to his navel, the furrows of his hips framing his abdomen. His unbound hair fell about his broad shoulders, down that strong back. It had gotten even longer since Mikleo left, and about twice as unruly. Honestly. He’d have to get Sorey to sit down and let him comb it out and get it manageable. Mikleo felt a fond warmth at the thought, and at the glint of light off the ring on Sorey’s finger.

“So now that you’re back, my mom and grandpa want to come and meet you guys, and I thought that we could talk about what we wanna do while they’re here. I think my mom would love to see the temple gardens, and my grandpa would probably get a kick out of all the stuff we’ve improved in his temple, and...”

Sorey tilted his head to the side and made a curious noise at how pale Mikleo had gotten.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. Then, a sudden realization. “Oh, don’t worry. I told them to give us a day or two so you could rest up and say hello to your mom and everyone in town, and get settled…”

“A day or two,” Mikleo echoed faintly. “Sorey. You’re asking us to host a pair of gods.”

“Well, yeah. I mean, Mao lives here. So do I.”

“With two days’ notice.”

Sorey scratched at his head. “Maybe a day and a half? Depends on how close they are to the mountain.”

Mikleo’s head was swimming. A day and a half before he was going to be playing host to two gods, who just so happened to be his future in-laws. He wanted to take Sorey’s face in his hands, stroke those tender cheeks with his thumbs, and ask him if this was some sort of punishment for leaving for five years.

No, no. Sorey was too kind-hearted to bear that kind of resentment, too pure for base revenge. And too innocent to understand exactly the kind of expectation this visit had.

Sorey was squinting out the window at an approaching swirl of storm clouds. He smiled over his shoulder at Mikleo.

“They’re a lot closer than I thought!” he chirped. “They’ll probably be here by dinner tonight. Do you think that’s okay? Should we ask your mom?”

“Yes,” Mikleo said weakly. “We should.”

After all, Muse was the only one who could save them now.

 --

 Mikleo hadn’t seen the temple in such a state since the chaotic period of Maotelus’ illness and sudden sleep. Comparatively, Muse had been much calmer back then as well.

“You have the books on our genealogy? And the financial ledgers?”

“Yes,” Mikleo assured her for the fourth time that hour. “Laid out in the receiving room.”

Muse’s hands touched at Mikleo’s hair, which she had twisted into a complicated braid. She fretted at his dress robes, then her own dress robes, then at a hanging tapestry on the wall.

“And the receiving room, it’s—”

“The attendants finished preparing it two hours ago. You inspected it and dispatched them to help in the gardens and kitchen.”

“Oh, I suppose I should inspect it again,” Muse said with a note of despair. “So much can happen in two hours…”

Before Mikleo could stop her, she was off – marching through the halls like a royal general off to inspect the troops before a battle. Mikleo sighed and exited the foyer to get some fresh air. Sorey was there, outside; having made his escape from Muse’s dressing room and salon earlier. He looked up at Mikleo with guilty eyes.

“...I’m sorry. I really didn’t think they were this close by,” he said.

“It’s fine,” Mikleo assured him. “If they’d given us more notice, we would have had to deal with all of this prep for a few days instead of a few hours. And I don’t think any of us would have survived the experience.”

His uncle had barely survived the experience as it was. At least, Mikleo hoped he’d survived. The last Mikleo had seen of him was Muse backing him into her dressing room. She’d slammed the door behind them, there was a panicked scream, and then...nothing. Mikleo shuddered. Maotelus’ protection was nothing in the face of such determination.

Sorey leaned his head on Mikleo’s shoulder, and Mikleo wound his arm around him in the same easy motion. The dark stormcloud that heralded the approach of Sorey’s family drew closer. Despite its appearance, it didn’t feel ominous in the least – it felt like an incoming summer storm, brimming with excitement.

“I tried to tell your mom that none of this was really needed,” Sorey said quietly. “My mom and grandpa don’t expect any of this...fancy stuff. They just have wanted to meet you for so long, and I couldn’t resist telling them that you were here the moment you came back, and...all of this is my fault. I’m sorry.”

“Sorey,” Mikleo said soothingly. He rubbed his hand up and down Sorey’s back, then up to rub the spot behind Sorey’s ear that he loved, even in human form. “You’ve known my mother for ages. She was going to do this no matter what. She wants them to know that we’re taking care of you.”

“I guess,” Sorey said. “But I don’t know how we’re going to be able to show them the temple and waterfall like this. I can barely turn my head without my hairpins poking me…”

Sorey tried to turn his chin to demonstrate, and the jeweled hairpins holding up his cascade of hair jingled with the attempt. The dangling beads and baubles caught the waning light as the sun was covered by the clouds. The whisper of falling rain filled the air, and the rumble of thunder.

Mikleo had known Sorey long enough to understand that there would be no bombastic entrance here, no descent in a pillar of light from the clouds. Just a pair of feathered dogs climbing the temple steps, a bit damp from the rain, and looking like they could use a place to rest.

Sorey gave a joyful shout, and leapt forward to greet them – straight out of his clothes and human form, straight out of those hairpins. They clattered to the stone path with a series of muted clink!s, drowned out as the rainstorm picked up. It was a happy reunion; with the larger of the two dogs tackling Sorey to the ground and giving his head a thorough scrubbing with their tongue, and the smaller, older-looking dog watching them fondly, their tail wagging.

“—mom, gramps, wait,” Sorey finally said through his laughter. “This is Mikleo. Mikleo, this is my family.”

His in-laws were two rather large and very unfamiliar dogs. Mikleo wondered if this was part of some final trial, to face his greatest fears before he was deemed worthy of Sorey. He swallowed hard, and moved to his knees to press himself to the ground before the two of them.

“No, no, none of that,” said the older dog. He had the voice of an old man, and stiffly walked forward to where Mikleo had frozen in a half-bow. “We’re not much for formalities. Though I must say I’m impressed that you managed to wrangle Sorey into that getup. I’m surprised those hairpins lasted as long as they did.”

“And I’m surprised you managed to get those ears of his clean,” said the dog with the voice of a young woman. “You’ll have to tell me your secret.”

Suddenly, the old dog was in the form of an old man; in old-fashioned clothing and tall shoes. He rested his wrinkled hand on Mikleo’s head.

“I suppose you’d know me as Zenrus, but considering the circumstance, ‘Gramps’ is fine and dandy. Now, I do hope you’ve got a spot to dry off in there.”

 --

 Zenrus and Selene, Sorey’s grandfather and mother, truly were gracious guests. By the end of their short few days staying at the temple, they had already integrated themselves into the family. Selene somehow managed to get Muse to relax and unwind, and Zenrus managed a similarly impossible feat by managing to befriend Michael – and have a discussion with him about his archaeological efforts without it devolving into a fight. Both gods also made quite an impression on Zaveid when they visited the town and its bar one night, and taught him a lesson about drinking challenges that he surely would be feeling in the morning...and would not forget any time soon.

Upon announcing his intent to marry Sorey, Selene and Zenrus bade him their congratulations, gave their blessing. Selene touched her hand to Mikleo’s chin, tilting his head to look her in the eye. Her hands were lovely and slim, and rough with the calluses of an explorer.

“Sorey adores you, and wants to spend his eternity with you. But I’m sure he’s told you what that means.”

Mikleo lowered his gaze for a moment. “He has.”

It was so easy and straightforward a choice on that day in the bar, but when given the time to let the weight of it settle in, he was humbled at the foresight Sorey had; to force him to take five years to consider it. An eternity with Sorey, watching the mortal world march on. He would never pass into the afterlife with his mother and uncle, never meet the departed father he only dimly remembered. Rose and Alisha would live out their lives, and so would any and all mortals they would befriend along the way, on and on, forever and ever. Mikleo knew he couldn’t even grasp the depths of the time that stretched out before him, not with his form still human. But he could guess at how lonely it would be, and the ache that would follow him always, even with Sorey’s love to sustain him.

However, the thought of the alternative – passing on, and letting Sorey face that same eternity alone -- was unbearable.

“I understand it’ll hurt. But I can’t let him be alone any more,” Mikleo said. “I want to be with him, to see the world with him, to have a future with him. I’ll have a lifetime to spend with my family and friends – a lifetime is all humans ever expect to begin with, after all.”

Selene’s expression softened. Her green eyes were so kind and understanding, just like her son’s.

“And your family and friends – have you told them?”

“I have.”

His mother wasn’t against it, but it...had taken Muse a few years to come to terms with the idea. She had already been separated from her husband by death, and would now be separated from her son by unending life. Michael, for his part, seemed unsurprised by Mikleo’s announcement. He’d travelled and studied so much that it probably wasn’t the first time he’d heard of a human marrying into the godly ranks, nor the first time he’d heard of the consequences. But he, too, always went quiet when Mikleo brought up the topic.

In the end, they were of the same mind as Mikleo: a lifetime together was all anyone ever got. Still, it made Mikleo’s heart ache when he turned the thoughts over and over again in his head.

In the end, it was Rose that steeled his resolve.

“If you’re passing up an immortal life as an all-powerful god out some weird sense of sentimentality,” she’d said. “I will punch you the second I see you in the afterlife.”

After a scolding from Alisha, she phrased it a bit more diplomatically.

“Listen. If you really cared about what your friends and family think about this, you wouldn’t saddle us with the guilt of denying you your happily ever after with Sorey. You think you’re being considerate, but you’re not. You’re just being indecisive. This is one decision that you’ve gotta be selfish about, and make on your own.”

It was a hard choice, a painful choice, and one that would probably never stop hurting. But it was the only choice Mikleo would ever want to make. He would face the endless road of eternity hand-in-hand with Sorey, and would never look back.

Selene bundled Mikleo into her arms, and let out a shaky sigh.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you, for caring for my little boy.”

 --

 Sorey gazed dreamily off into the middle distance. He turned to Mikleo, and smiled goofily.

“Mikleo,” he said. “When do you think we should start trying for puppies?”

Mikleo choked on his drink, dribbling it down the front of his shirt. Honestly, he really had to stop being surprised at Sorey’s bluntness. He took a moment to compose himself, then replied with a question of his own.

“...puppies?” he asked.

Sorey blinked at him. “...don’t you remember? I told you that we can start a family...” He paused to purse his lips into a pout, and continued in a slightly wounded voice. “You told me to think up baby names while you were gone.”

Mikleo fretted and scooted close to Sorey, and took his hand in his. “Yes, of course I remember,” he assured him. “But I thought...I didn’t realize, that, um. I suppose it makes sense that it’d be puppies, that’s all.”

Sorey’s face broke into a smile again, and all was right with the world once more. “Oh! No, no, they won’t be able to maintain human forms until they’re older. They’ll start as puppies. Fluffy and feathery, and with your eyes and your nose,” he continued, dreamily. “I’ve got it all planned out. Do you want to see my journals?”

A puppy with Mikleo’s nose sounded vaguely horrifying. Mikleo gave a crooked smile.

“Of course,” Mikleo said. He brought Sorey’s hand to his lips, and pressed a kiss to his knuckles before he continued. “I do want to have a family with you, Sorey. I meant it back then and mean it today.”

Sorey bounced in place in excitement, and surged forward to fling his arms around Mikleo in a tight hug.

“Great! Let’s start now,” Sorey said eagerly, and immediately started shimmying his robes off.

“Wha – Sorey!” Mikleo sputtered, trying to yank Sorey’s robes back into place. “Wait!”

Sorey froze in place, and his expression turned concerned. “Mikleo? Are...are you not ready?”

“I am, I just…” Mikleo floundered for words. “...this is just not how I pictured it happening.”

Sorey’s cheeks flushed pink. Mikleo’s heart skipped at the sight of it, making the rest of his protest evaporate. Too cute.

“You...you pictured it?” Sorey asked quietly.

Too, too cute. Mikleo’s body was definitely reconsidering its reluctance to knock Sorey up right here on the floor of Mikleo’s study. Mikleo opened his arms, and Sorey shyly took the opportunity to wriggle himself into Mikleo’s lap. Mikleo wrapped his arms around him, and pressed his lips against the shell of Sorey’s ear. His breath made Sorey’s feathered earrings flutter against his neck as he spoke.

“I did,” he said, low. “And I wanted it to be a little more romantic.”

Sorey’s voice fluttered out of his throat in a breathy sigh, and he squirmed on Mikleo’s lap. Mikleo trailed his lips down Sorey’s jaw, down his throat, down to where his robes were still askew at his chest.

“So,” Mikleo said. “I think we should move this to our bedroom, to start off with.”

“Yeah…” The word came out of Sorey’s throat as an extended whine.

Sorey was still shorter than him, but he was also still quite a bit more well-built, in compared to Mikleo’s slender frame. Frustratingly, years of travel had done little to change Mikleo’s build. It made carrying Sorey around difficult, and thwarted some of Mikleo’s more romantic gestures in the past. But tonight, Mikleo had a mission. A Mission from the Heavens themselves. Steeled with determination, he was granted the strength he needed by his heart, and also...other body parts. He deposited Sorey on their shared bed, and before he could follow him down, Sorey reeled him in by his shoulders.

“Mikleo, I wanna give you puppies, lots of puppies, they’ll be so cute and they’ll be all ours to love and read to and play with…”

Mikleo couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled from him, and he kissed Sorey, over and over, to give him a taste of the joy in his chest.

 --

 A plate of mabo curry buns had gone missing from the kitchen, and there was only one man who could bring the suspects to justice.

Mikleo inspected the crime scene. There were many clues to the buns’ whereabouts: such as several eyewitness reports, loads of stray feathers, and basic common sense. But none of these clues would lead to where the buns were currently being held...luckily, there were a bunch of muddy pawprints tracked all around the countertop where the buns had been left to cool, and those muddy pawprints led Mikleo straight out of the kitchen and into the temple library.

Mikleo opened the library door, and rose an eyebrow at where Sorey sat too-innocently in a plush chair. Sorey blinked owlishly, and settled the book he was reading on his lap.

“Mikleo! How was your appointment?”

“I finished early,” Mikleo said. “There’s not much malevolence to purify in town anymore. I sensed some in this room, though, so I came to investigate.”

The town truly was purer than ever. Over the past year, Maotelus had slowly started to awaken from his slumber. He could only maintain wakefulness for a little while before drifting back off, but his conscious hours were becoming longer and longer. He could speak with Michael again, and be assured of the safety of the mountain – it clearly calmed his heart, and helped him grow stronger. With Sorey’s continued support, it wouldn’t be long until he was completely healthy again. And for this brief period, Camlann was experiencing the effects of the blessings of two mighty gods at once. Crops were bountiful, malevolence evaporated as soon as it crept into existence, and the weather was mild and beautiful. It was a wonderful time to be alive, and a wonderful time to raise a family.

The temple was livelier than it had ever been.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Sorey said, though he couldn’t quite stop the smile on his face. He was always such a terrible liar. “I don’t sense a thing.”

“Hmm.” Mikleo let his gaze drop to the odd bulge under the carpet at the center of the library.

It was indeed an odd, twitching bulge, and it sounded and smelled like someone was eating mabo curry buns underneath it. Mikleo walked up, and poked at the paw pad that was sticking out from under the edge of the carpet. There was a tiny squeak, and the mysterious paw darted underneath the carpet. Mikleo drew back the carpet, revealing the masterminds behind the curry bun caper.

“Sierra, Maiya,” Mikleo said sternly. “You know not to steal from the kitchens. Those treats were for everyone tonight.”

Sierra and Maiya gazed up at him with sorrowful puppy eyes, letting their tongues blep just so. The effect was ruined somewhat by the utter mess around them, and the fact that their mouths were still full of curry buns. Mikleo wrinkled his nose at the sight of their filthy coats – their downy puppy feathers got messy so easily, and it wasn’t worth asking how they’d gotten so muddy. It was something of a universal constant.

“Bath time,” Mikleo announced, his voice firm. “Both of you.”

Sierra gave an imperious little snort, and shimmed herself more comfortably into her flat-belly sprawl. Maiya rolled onto her back, showing off her fluffy tummy. Sorey suppressed a little laugh at the sight of their sass, and hid his expression behind his hand. Mikleo stared meaningfully at Sorey, telling him with his eyes: don’t think you’re getting away with this scott-free. Or bath-free. You’re an accomplice in this crime, I can see the curry bun they paid you off with inside your sleeve.

“Do we have to tell Aunt Rose and Aunt Alisha that the two of you can’t meet them at the train station today?” Mikleo asked. “And they were really looking forward to seeing you be flower girls at their wedding tomorrow. Grandma will be so upset to not see you in the dresses she made...”

Sierra and Maiya leapt to their feet, howling and yowling in panic, pleading for forgiveness. Mikleo pointed towards the door.

“Bath. Now. Your papa and I will think about letting you be in the wedding afterward.”

Sierra and Maiya tore off towards the bathroom, and only belatedly did Mikleo realize that he had only further contributed to the muddy pawprints all over the house. He sighed at the feeling of Sorey’s arms wrapping around him from behind.

“I’m sorry. It’s partially my fault,” said Sorey. “They just came trotting in here, and they looked so cute and proud of themselves, and…”

“You’re not much of a disciplinarian,” Mikleo said. He kissed Sorey’s temple. “But they’re all riled up from the wedding preparation. I suppose some naughtiness is expected.”

“Now who’s not much of a disciplinarian?”

“You’re going to help me clean them up. And scold them.”

Sorey gave a sheepish little smile, but nodded all the same. “Of course. Are you going to scold me too?”

“Maybe later.”

After scrubbing two penitent puppies clean of curry and mud, Sorey and Mikleo escorted them to the kitchens to apologize to the staff personally. As always, the staff couldn’t understand the girls in the slightest, but understood the sentiment – and were altogether too charmed to stay upset. Mikleo was thus willing to allow their previous plans to continue. To be honest, he wasn’t really willing to add on to Rose and Alisha’s stress by telling them that they were out two flower girls, nor was he willing to tell his mother that she wouldn’t be seeing her grandchildren in the ceremony. Even if he was the priest that was going to be overseeing the whole thing, he wasn’t really sure if that would save him from getting choked out.

They walked together on the road to the train station, letting the girls romp ahead of them. Mikleo’s reputation in town had passed out of memory – especially now that there was much juicier gossip unfolding, in the form of the town’s biggest heartbreaker falling head over heels for a beautiful, mysterious, sunshine-smiled stranger. The girls who once had their hearts broken by Camlann’s most eligible bachelor had since found their own happiness, as Mikleo and Sorey had found theirs.

They passed the Spring Breeze, waving to Zaveid and Lailah as they passed. They’d told some people about Sorey and the girls’ true nature; people sensitive to the supernatural, people who could understand, people they could trust. Zaveid leaned on his broom, smiling sappily at the sight of the girls trotting along. Mikleo saw him lean in to whisper to Lailah:

“Can we have some puppies, too?”

Mikleo also heard Zaveid yelp as Lailah pinched him for the comment.

“Mao should be ready to stand on his own again soon,” Sorey said. “It’s good to see him up and about again. The girls wore him out last time, though.”

“I think that can’t be helped,” Mikleo noted.

Sorey laughed. “You’re right, there.”

He went quiet for a moment, then squeezed Mikleo’s hand. “Do you think, in a few years, that we could...could maybe start travelling with the girls? Only for short trips, at first. And we’d always come back. They’ll be able to start learning to fly soon, and…”

Mikleo squeezed his hand right back. “That sounds wonderful. There’s a big world out there for them to see, and we’ve got to get around to showing it.”

A big world, full of beautiful things, fascinating things. Full of malevolence, full of things that might be able to hurt them. Full of big snarling dogs – gods help him, after everything, Mikleo was still jumpy around dogs. All in all, Mikleo was fairly sure that he’d be the one who wasn’t really ready when the time came to travel with them. But he knew firsthand that he couldn’t hold them back.

He heard the whistle of the train carrying Rose and Alisha, and Sierra and Maiya threw back their heads to howl along with it. Sorey’s smile lit the world like sunlight at the sight of it. Mikleo let his worries quiet, and allowed himself to bask in the moment.

It would be alright. They had all the time in the world to figure it out.

–

Chapter Directory

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[miyakuli]

** Permission to post it was granted by the artist Support the artist on their page too Please don’t remove credits & don’t repost/edit the art **

Artist :  @segawaseki

Source

[alassetasartir-blog]

Love them both so much!!

[carnelianwings]

What is preference in Sormik when comes to nsfw? Sorry if this is bad to ask I follow mostly bottom Mikleo. Have been interest your blog for awhile, admiring you. But not sure if safe to follow or not. Do you tag mikusure if reblog?

My personal preference for soymilk in nsfw is mostly Sorey/Mikleo, with a little bit of switching along the way.  (Look, you get eternity together and variety in the bedroom’s probably not a bad thing, just saying.)  When I write, it’s all with that dynamic in mind, even though AO3 doesn’t let me tag them in top/bottom order (AO3 has the characters in a ship listed in alphabetical order).  And just to be clear, when I say “top” I mean the penetrative partner, and when I say “bottom” I mean the receptive partner.

And anon, I absolutely follow the Japanese-style ship tags when I’m tagging a soymilk reblog!  So yes, I do tag for mikusore/mikusure on reblogs and posts!  I have at least one other follower (that I know of) that likes that I do that, so I make a point of continuing to do so just to appeal to everyone’s tastes.  The English fandom-based ship tags I leave as is regardless of who’s top/bottom mostly because I don’t think I’ve seen a tag used for Mikleo/Sorey as opposed to Sorey/Mikleo.  So if you have a tag blocker for mikusure or mikusore, it should block the reblog/post for you!

Of course, then there’s all the nsfw things people have come up with them in water armatus and that’s the part where I’m not even sure how to tag it anymore.  Although usually when that happens there’s other things I’m tagging for.  Just saying.

[alassetasartir-blog]

One pic Per day of Tainted AU SoreMiku!! ！！！！！

DAY 160!! Tainted Adult Sorey and Normal Mikleo Part 6 End

It’s been a while since I drew normal Sorey XDD

[alassetasartir-blog]

One pic Per day of Tainted AU SoreMiku!! ！！！！！

DAY 153!! What shall we do today?

[alassetasartir-blog]

One pic Per day of Tainted AU SoreMiku!! ！！！！！

DAY 161!! Tainted Adult Sorey and Normal Mikleo (Omake)

Good luck, Sorey~! XDD

[alassetasartir-blog]

One pic Per day of Tainted AU SoreMiku!! ！！！！！

DAY 158!! Tainted Adult Sorey and Normal Mikleo Part 4

[alassetasartir-blog]

One pic Per day of Tainted AU SoreMiku!! ！！！！！

DAY 163!! Formal Attire (Vest version)

It’s nice too with just the vest~!