食色性也
Shí sè xìng yě
By nature we desire food and sex. (Mencius)
Appetite and lust are only natural.
*~*~*~*~*~*

Life in the cabin resumed some semblance of normalcy.

Zakhar went hunting again. I did not go with him.

When we were in the cabin together we spoke much as we always had. We joked, and guffawed, and drank too much wine.

But something had changed.

At night I slept on the kang near Sanli. More than once, I fell to sleep knowing Zakhar was still awake, just lengths from me. Wondering what he was thinking.

Memories of our kiss came again and again. Instead of diminishing with time, as I had assumed they would, they burned brighter and brighter, consuming my thoughts, chasing away the dark dreams of pain and screams. Often I would wake up in a sweat, and not from fear.

Dammit. Since when have I been so little in control of my own thoughts? I need to get out of this cabin.

The chance came one morning, when Kageyama returned from scouting and announced we could now travel to the hot springs.

"There are hot springs near here?" I said, astounded.

"There are, but they are at least a day's travel in the snow. I didn't tell you because I didn't want you forcing one of us up there with you though the deep drifts."

"I do not need one of you. I can go on my own."

Kageyama shook his head. "No. They are near ruins of an old god's temple. There are strange magics there. And who knows if there is not another eh'lang on the prowl. No one goes alone."

"Come with me then," I said.

Kageyama raised an eyebrow in suspicion. "Why are you asking me to go? Why not Zakhar?"

"I'll go with you Ao!" piped up Sanli from the kang.

"You're not going anywhere till spring!" snapped Kageyama.

"I'll go," said Zakhar softly from where he sat in the corner. He was working on carving a board for his chess set.

"Thank you, Zakhar," I said, equally softly.

We set out the next day. Zakhar brought Dunya, just to carry our tent and furs, but not to ride. He walked ahead of her, leading the horse.

I walked behind, Dunya's large dusty-brown rear before me.

Well, I needn't of worried it would be hard to talk, I thought. All I have to talk to is the horse's ass.

I had not realized how much I enjoyed the easy conversations I always had with Zakhar.

We had only gone about an hour when we stopped to rest. Traveling in the snow, even though it was only up to our knees, was exhausting. I could see why Kageyama had not wanted us venturing up here when the snow was deeper.

Zakhar stopped us beside the ruins of another hunter's cabin, similar to the one we now stayed in. We tied Dunya to a splintered roof post, then sat on the mouldering deck beneath the remains of the roof.

I took the deer meat and hard bread that Zakhar offered me, looking at the space before us. It had been cleared of firs and planted with small crooked trees that reached black fingers to the grey sky.

I peered carefully at the bark and branches. "Are those... plum trees?"

Zakhar's attention had also been taken by the small trees. "I think so. Probably to make wine."

"Most certainly to make wine. What else is there to do in the forest but hunt and drink?" And fornicate in the snow like animals—

"Do you like plum wine?" Zakhar asked, glancing at me.

"I do, though I prefer the ice wines of the north. Why, do you?"

Zakhar grinned. "It is my favorite. I have several bottles from a place just outside Lin'jing, run by a—"

"By an old Daqu woman! I know the brewer! Oh, her wine is delicious."

Zakhar grinned wider. "The woman is dead, her son runs the winery now. But I have some bottles from when she was still in charge."

"Oh, I should very much like to drink them." In my enthusiasm I had forgotten any awkwardness that had been between us.

"We can, when we get back to the valley in spring. The plum blossoms will still be out near the temple. We can ride up and view them while we drink."

"I am sure Sanli and Kageyama will not need convincing."

"Who says I want to share my wine with them?" asked Zakhar with a sly smile.

I laughed, harder than necessary, part of my mirth coming from a feeling of relief at having my friend back.

My laughter faded and I found myself wondering if I should broach the subject of our kiss, or just let it lie.

"Zakhar," I began, voice faltering. "I am sorry for before. I didn't mean to- to tease you that night. That was not my intention."

"It's fine Ao. I teased you first, remember?"

I thought of his lips on the bottom of my foot, tickling the sensitive skin, and my cheeks warmed. "You did, didn't you?"

I looked away, across the orchard. At the edge fir trees rose, sharp black triangles into the grey sky.

I felt relief, that Zakhar and I were talking as we normally did. But I also felt something else.

"I didn't mind it though." My voice was soft as the already fallen snow of the orchard.

I hadn't thought Zakhar heard me. I hadn't meant for him to hear me. So he surprised me when he stood and said-

"I didn't mind either."

Then he crunched off through the snow to untie Dunya.

*~*~*~*~*~*

As the day wore on we continued to travel north, through the tiring snow.

At least I thought we were traveling north. In truth, without the sun to guide me, I was terrible at finding my directions. I instead used the mountains around us to guide me, but one peak started to blend into another, and soon I was confused as to which direction we had even come from.

I had spent so long wandering the Green Kingdom that I knew it too well to get lost. But I rarely ventured this far north, this close to the Northern Territories.

I was glad Zakhar seemed to know where he was going.

As we traveled, everything around us took one of three shades: grey, white, or black. And really grey was just an approximation between those two colors, so it could be said we were in a world of white and black. The white page of the snow, splattered with details. Dark slate sky, sharp edged black trees, and the distant mountain peaks, their dark shades lightening as they trailed up into the clouds above.

It was a strange feeling. As though we were walking in an ink painting.

I matched the landscape, black hair, white skin. Only Zakhar's golden hair and blue eyes, and Dunya's brown coat added any color to the landscape.

It was late afternoon when we reached our destination.

We had arrived at a cliff face, from which a roaring river plunged in a series of churning falls. It could have been the same river that Sanli and I had fallen into further downstream, but I had become so twisted around I had no clue.

Against the bleak cliff and the roaring river was all that was left of the old god's temple. Huge slabs of stone, some standing, some fallen on their sides, scattered the area. They appeared to be a different stone from the black stone of the cliff, almost dark blue in composition, so I knew the maker must have had the stone mined somewhere else, and dragged in using magic and the labor of many.

Vanity, I thought. Waste.

I left Zakhar and Dunya where they stood and approached the ruins. Zakhar shouted a reminder of Kageyama's warning, about old magics, but I felt nothing on my skin beside the cold air.

Whatever magic had been here was long gone. I gestured Zakhar over.

Uncertainly, Zakhar left Dunya stood in the snow chomping her bit and came toward me.

"I don't know if we should be here... let's just keep moving on to the hotspring," said Zakhar, peering nervously at a huge stone slab five times his height. It was chiseled with swirling inscriptions that did not resemble the modern language or the old one.

"What's wrong," I said with a smirk. "Afraid of the gods?"

"Aye, if they're all as terrifying as you."

I laughed with pleasure, and moved farther into the ruins.

My steps carefully found their way over bits of rock hidden beneath the snow. It seemed they had fallen away from the main stones. Had they crumbled naturally, or been broken?

I suppose it has been near 2000 years since the old gods took power and 700 since they lost it. That is time enough for stone to crumble.

I stopped before one of the stone slabs. The strange swirl script was there, surrounding a picture of what resembled a giant tortoise, but its legs were too long. Instead of a short blunt turtle's head a long snake neck sprouted from beneath the shell.

My fingers reached up, to trace the image, though I knew without touching the cold stone who it was. "This temple belonged to 蔡武 Caiwu, the God of the North before Xuanhei. He was a fair ruler, and a fine warrior."

Zakhar stopped beside me. I expected him to ask me more, and if it had been Sanli beside me I knew he would have. But unlike the prince, always hungry for knowledge of the past, Zakhar asked about the present.

"You said you remember the rise of the old gods... I can not imagine it. What does it feel like to live so long?"

He asked it with the same wistfulness all short-lived creatures did.

I sighed. "I don't know. You see so many things, do so many things. Yet you are still just you. Not so impressive really."

Zakhar was watching me closely, and I felt the need to say more. "It does not matter really, how long you live. At the end, it always feels too short."

"I suppose it does," said Zakhar a bitter grin curling his lips. He looked up at the wall.

My answer seemed to please Zakhar, but really I did not agree with it. I had always thought it unfair, how short human lives were. They were such complicated creatures, so tied in knots. It seemed a waste to have so little time to work out such a puzzle.

Beside me Zakhar tentatively raised his gloved hand to the stone and traced the strange tortoise creature. Frost from his breath had formed on his beard.

They were confusing things, humans. And, even if you did manage to solve the puzzle in time, all your efforts were still sure to end in heartache. Who would be foolish enough to bother attempting it in the first place?

Sanli is a sunny day.

Kageyama's words, said that night by the fire before I had been lost in the agony of Hei's curse, appeared suddenly in my mind.

Do you stay inside and ignore it? No, you go out, and enjoy it all the same.

I studied Zakhar beside me. Thought of the things we had experienced together already, in the short time since our meeting. Thought of all the things we still had left to do.

Their time is brief, it is true, I thought. But, in the end, what matters most is not how long the day.

What matters is how you spend it.

I faced Zakhar.

"Zakhar."

He turned toward me, a question in his blue eyes. "Hmm?"

I reached up and put one mittened hand along his jaw. "May I?"

His eyes widened. For a second, it seemed as though he would say no.

Then he nodded.

Standing on the tips of my toes, the snow sinking beneath me, I reached up to press my lips to his.

It was a feeble attempt. Even with my body stretched as tall as it could go, even with every muscle in my legs straining to lift me up to Zakhar's mouth, I still had to practically claw my way up his chest to keep our lips together. Zakhar wrapped his arms around my waist and held me against him, to make it easier for me.

When I broke away, he looked down at me, an unreadable expression in his eyes.

Maybe he does not want—

"May I?" he asked. His look was deep as a well, and tempted me in.

I nodded.

The suddenness of his movement startled me. Zakhar's head bent, his lips met mine, and at the same time his arms wrapped around me and pulled me up, against his chest.

Our mouths met with such force that my lip caught between his teeth and mine. I tasted pain along with his lips.

It is delicious. So sweet. So sad.

I wrapped my legs around Zakhar's waist. He hoisted me higher, closer, pulling me against him, arms running up my arms and around my back, and at last settling under my thighs, to hold my weight.

Zakhar took a step as he struggled to balance both my weight and his. Then he fell to his knees in the snow with a crunch.

He held on to me, but the fall pulled our lips apart. We stared at each other, breath coming in heavy clouds that misted around our mouths like steam.

"Tell me to stop," Zakhar said, desperate, eyes searching mine for a hint of hesitation. "Tell me to stop, and I will."

"You tell ME to stop," I countered, laughing.

Zakhar's smile was sunshine on that grey winter day. "Never."

He lay me down on the snow, holding himself above me. Eyes searching my face, no longer for permission, but catching each detail.

Zakhar's long hair, grown longer over the winter, framed his face in waves. Then it framed mine as he bent lower.

He kissed me.

Oh how he kissed me. I found myself instinctively comparing it to other kisses I had received, most recently from the second prince. Zhang'yu had gone about the action ably, skillfully, but as a natural addendum to the ritual of lovemaking.

But Zakhar...

Each of Zakhar kisses burned its way into my lips, my skin, like a brand. Each one was purposeful, planned, as though Zakhar had polished each one and presented it as a reverent offering. Every kiss was a precious treasure on its own, a moment to be savored, not a means to an end.

He kissed me like there was nothing in the world he wanted more.

This is what it feels like. This is what it feels like to be cherished.

For some reason, the thought made me terribly sad.

I lay back in the snow, the grey sky stretched above me. Unnoticed, snow had begun falling. It fell on my eyelashes, resting there, before melting into water droplets, hanging like tears on the end of my lashes.

Zakhar started to kiss along my jaw, down my neck.

"Zakhar. Zakhar, it is snowing."

Zakhar murmured his response into my neck. His lips found the tender patch just where neck met shoulder that I loved. Surrounded by the tickling of his beard, they worked magic on the spot.

I gasped with pleasure, twisting my fingers into his sheepskin jacket.

Zakhar chuckled, the vibrations of the sound transferring to my tingling skin. Then, as in so many of my dreams, sleeping and waking, he started to kiss down my collarbone, to my chest.

I moaned.

When my cape and thick winter clothes prevented him from kissing farther, his big hands moved to lift them over my head.

"Zakhar!" I gasped.

"S-sorry. I'll stop. Sorry," the big man mumbled, sitting back with his hands held in the air like a criminal caught in the act.

I laughed, amused by how quickly the confident, passionate Zakhar I had just met was replaced by my blushing friend.

Smiling, I reached a hand up to pat his legs on either side of my body.

"I do not want you to stop. But it is starting to snow harder, and the snow against my back is quite cold. We should move on to the hot spring and strike camp. It is close, isn't it?"

"Oh. Yes, it is close." Zakhar stood, then pulled me to my feet.

I adjusted my cape, rearranging clothes that had become askew.

I looked up. Zakhar was watching me with disbelief, confused desire, and so many other emotions I worried he would come apart.

I held out a gloved hand for him to take. "Come. Let's get Dunya and move to the hotspring."

Zakhar looked at my hand as though unsure what it was. Then he took it.

I turned and made my way back to Dunya, stepping in our tracks in the thick snow, tugging Zakhar by the hand behind me. "Come on... Big Boy."

Zakhar groaned.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The hotspring was not far. We entered a narrow canyon in the clifface, just wide enough for the horses to pass through.

After a short walk, we emerged into a wider section of the canyon, and the hot spring was before us.

It was more a series of hot springs, three pools of rust colored water. The smell was horrendous, but the steam rising off the water assured me that it would be worth it.

Zakhar had recovered from his befuddled state somewhat on our way up the canyon. I found it endearing that my actions, my words, had dazed him so.

We stopped by the springs and he began to unload Dunya. "Go on then," Zakhar said with a nod, seeing me eyeing the cloudy red water with longing. "I'll set up camp,"

I nodded and winked. "No peeking now."

Face furiously red, Zakhar busied himself with unloading tentpoles from Dunya's back.

I slipped from my clothes and into the widest of the steaming pools.

The water was almost too hot, and the minerals in it were harsh on my skin. But after weeks of cold and inadequate baths in the too-small basin, it was heavenly.

I sighed, tying my hair up on my head, then leaned back, arms along the rocks.

I watched Zakhar set up camp, propping up tent poles, throwing tarp over them, spreading more tarp inside and animal furs on top. Then he tied the tarp together at the edges using the dozens of ties for that purpose, a task that the men allocated to me usually on the road. It was dull, but I liked it.

Zakhar then cleared space for a fire pit. His bow and quiver were close at hand, and I wondered if we would be able to eat game that night, in addition to the hard bread Kageyama had packed us.

As he set up camp, Zakhar carefully kept his back toward me, never once looking my way, no matter how I splashed or sighed with pleasure at the warm water.

When I said 'no peeking' I really meant 'you better look', I thought with a snort. He did not quite understand yet.

Zakhar finished his tasks and sat down facing away from me. He took out his knife and began to whittle away at a piece of stick he picked up. But I knew his chess set was done, and could tell from the unfocused way his knife twisted in the wood his heart was not in it.

His broad shoulders were tense. He was thinking of something else.

I bet I know what...

Now all that was left was to invite him in. I am sure those shoulders look even more magnificent without anything on them.

But still I hesitated.

You are afraid.

I was. But also, I did not want to be unkind. I had promised Lu.

"Zakhar..." I said, one hand drawing water to wash the other. "What is it that you hope for from me?"

Zakhar's knife stopped. When he spoke it was to the air in front of him, still too shy to turn his head. "I do not want anything from you Ao. I am just happy you are alive."

Was this it? The reason behind Zakhar's recent good moods, his extra smiles and laughter? He was simply happy I had survived Hei's curse?

He cares for you too much.

My hand tightened around my upper arm. "I can bring you pleasure Zakhar, but I cannot give you the other things you want. The things you deserve."

"And what things are those?"

I sighed. "Safety, security, happiness. Enough love to forget the darkness that's been in your life."

There was a pause as Zakhar thought, and when he spoke his answer was careful. "Ao, everyday I get up, chop firewood, hunt. I clean my kill, bring it back, and Kageyama sticks it in a soup and boils it."

I was not sure why he was telling me this, but I let him continue, my eyes watching snow hit the steaming water with an icy sizzle and disappear.

"Everyday I get up and look at snow and trees and mountains. I go to sleep at night listening to a spoiled prince flirt with the only woman in a hundred li. Then I get up and do the same thing the next morning."

Zakhar shifted, tucking his knife away. I waited for him to finish.

"Ao, right now all I am looking for is the same thing you are. A distraction."

I frowned. He had not kissed me earlier like I was a distraction. If that was how he kissed the flowers of Zhanghai, it was a miracle they had not been at the gates of Changfang every morning, paying HIM for another taste of his lips.

Zakhar said no more. He had left the choice to me. I wish he had not.

I raised a steaming arm from the water and beckoned at the broad back, my rings flashing in the fast-dying light. "Come join me, Zakhar."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Be amazed by this awesome art by Echoraven27 ! The pose is so dynamic, it really suits Ao. And I love the colors. All that grey! 😉