踏雪尋梅
Tà xuě xún méi
To walk in the snow to view the flowering plum.
Enjoy plum blossoms in winter.

*~*~*~*~*~*
(Skip the first section if you don't want the steamy stuff.)

Although variety is important in lovemaking, it is also important to find a rhythm, a pattern that both lovers understand.

Zakhar and I had found ours quickly. After much play, we would end with me on top, something men pretended to scorn but seemed to like just fine when they tried it. Zakhar said he preferred it as he could better watch me, but I think he worried more about hurting me were he to take the lead.

The position meant more work for me, but I did not mind. I liked the control that came with it. I could set the pace to whatever I desired, tease or demand as I wanted.

It also meant I could view Zakhar's face, in all the agony and ecstasy of delight.

"Ao," he gasped, eyes closed and then open. A white canine bit into his pink lip. "Ao—!"

His hand found my hip bone, squeezing it in warning, even as I felt him twitch and jerk beneath me.

With a final sway of my hips I followed him, then fell forward onto his broad chest, sweating and dizzy with euphoria and exhaustion.

Zakhar wrapped shaking arms around me. "I-I'm sorry," he said, breathing heavily. He was also sweating, though he had not had to move as I had.

"I've told you, it is fine," I replied when I had caught my breath. I was somewhat irritated. I did not know why he felt the need to apologize. "I am more than content. And I cannot have children."

He murmured an unintelligible response. Even with my finger idly tracing the black swirls on his chest, he was soon asleep.

*~*~*~*~*~*
(Non-steamy from here.)

Despite all my hard work, and the sleepiness seeping from my pleasure-drugged brain, I found I could not follow him. Sleep eluded me. In its place a restlessness had come. An uneasy melancholy.

I stood, tucking the furs about Zakhar's bare form. Taking my clothes, I went to wash in the hot springs once more.

Once I had bathed I quickly dried and dressed. My skin glowed rosy from the hot spring and my passions with Zakhar. Not feeling cold, or sleepy, I left the tent, and instead wandered back down the small canyon to the ruins of the old temple.

There was no moon or stars, only clouds, but somehow the night was bright, sending the shadows of the temple stones across the snow. The scene would have been quite eerie, if not for the waterfall roaring beside it.

I walked to the nearest monolith and let my fingers trace over the carvings there. I had never bothered learning the ancient script, and there were few alive who could read it now. No doubt it listed the virtues and merits of Caiwu, the old god of the North.

I leaned my warm forehead against the cold stone. As if conjured by contact, a memory appeared.

A ring of soldiers on horseback. In the middle, two combatants faced off, spears in hand.

One of them was a short, plain looking man in his later years. His face was lined with wrinkles and care, and from it shone dark eyes, matching the black of his cloak and military uniform. Even his armor, riddled with dents and scratches, was burnt black.

There was nothing in his appearance to suggest a god, but Caiwu exuded a presence so potent, it could not be ignored. The man was a warrior and a king and a god molded into one solid, weathered form.

"I will not serve your new gods," Caiwu said, lifting his spear. "Tell your fake emperor that all his golden splendor will not protect him from how history will judge him."

The second combatant giggled, the very sound an insult, and lifted her spear in turn. "Silly man. After all your battles, haven't you learned? History is written by the victors."

She was dressed in heavy armor that further dwarfed her short frame, and looked young, no more than twenty years of age. She had dark skin, a burnt brown usually seen in those from the islands of the southeast sea, and jet black hair drawn back in a bun. Her features looked much as mine did now, but there was an ethereal quality to her appearance, and her features were a tad too sharp, a suggestion that she was not human.

And there was an arrogance to the tilt of her chin that could not be matched. A ruthlessness to her smile that no human should have.

The second combatant was me.

I blinked, pushing away from the stone. I looked up at it, finding the etching of the strange turtle creature that had been the symbol of the old Lord of the North. Before Hei. Before the new gods.

"History really is written by the victors, isn't it?" I asked the stone. Then I returned to the camp.

*~*~*~*~*~*

As I approached our tent I heard a sound coming from within. It was unavoidably a man crying.

I paused outside the tent flaps. I thought to leave.

But then I remembered how Zakhar had held me in my room in Chuanfang, when my own powerlessness in the face of Guang Han's rage had nearly destroyed me.

I bent and crawled inside, feeling my way across the furs. "Zakhar. Zakhar, what is wrong?"

Zakhar immediately stopped crying, throwing an arm across his face. It was unnecessary, I could not see much in the dark tent beside the pale of his skin.

"You do not need to hide your tears from me. If anything, I like a man with emotion. They are far more interesting than those without." I moved closer, carefully pulling his head into my lap. I stroked the waves of his golden hair back from his forehead. "Tell me why you are sad."

"Ao... Ao I'm so glad you're alright. I just- I had a terrible dream."

"Of course I am alright. What did you see in your dream that upset you so?"

"There was a monster. An eh'lang. It hurt you."

I tried not to snort. That wasn't a dream. It really happened.

I drew soothing fingers along Zakhar's cheek. "You don't need to be afraid for me Zakhar. My true form will always be more terrifying than anything you can dream up."

Zakhar managed a weak smile. "You were a dragon, weren't you?"

"I was."

"Were you as big as Guang Han?"

"Oh no. Much bigger."

"Were you... the same color?"

"That ghastly red? Absolutely not. I had scales of the deepest grey, like the sky before a storm." I went on, elaborating about the different dragon tribes, their regions and their coloring. I was happy I had managed to distract him.

Zakhar took it all in, then asked. "I don't know if I want to hear this, but what would you have done if you had come upon me in your true mighty form, oh dragoness?"

I bent my head close to his own. "I would have thought 'here is the most delicious looking treat' and gobbled you up."  I kissed him, quick and deep.

Zakhar laughed when I drew back, then sobered, eyes widening. "Wait... you're joking, aren't you?"

I smiled above him, wondering if my smile resembled at all the one I used to have. "Of course I am joking. I never liked the taste of humans."

Zakhar's eyes widened further.

I laughed loudly. "No, I would not have eaten you. I never ate humans. I always preferred humans to my own kind."

Zakhar looked relieved. "Why?"

I thought. "Dragons are selfish, arrogant creatures, who only know how to hunt and destroy. Humans are much more interesting. They build, they break, they build again. They grow and change, and become something new."

Zakhar's eyes were studying me carefully as I spoke. He looked away. "Humans can be selfish creatures too."

"You are not selfish. You give too much." I said, leaning in to kiss him once more.

The kiss was awkward, bent as I was at an angle above him. But Zakhar's lips were hungry for it, needy, and so I let it last as long as he wanted.

Finally I drew back, teeth stealing a teasing bite of his lower lip as they departed.

I had thought I had comforted him, but as our kiss finished tears leaked from his eyes afresh.

"What is wrong, Zakhar?" I caught the tears with my thumb, longing to taste them. I knew they would be salty like the sea. "What is really wrong? Won't you tell me?"

"Nothing Ao. I am sorry. It was just the dream. I am sorry, I'll stop soon."

Again, with the apologies. I could get no more from him then that, and knew better then to push. Just like me, Zakhar had things he didn't want to speak of. So instead I stroked his head, murmuring soothing things until he fell asleep once more.

As I moved his head from my lap carefully to lay next to him, I thought how odd that I had had two of the men cry in my arms this season. First Sanli in the cave, then Zakhar. Perhaps I just asked to have men sob upon me.

If this pattern carries on, it will be Kageyama crying in my lap next.

*~*~*~*~*~*

We rose later than planned the next morning, but that was expected, given the lack of sleep.

I begged Zakhar to let me enjoy the hot springs one more time before we left. He relented.

I tried to enjoy him one more time as well.

"Ao," he gasped, catching my hands and holding them above the water. "You may be a dragon, goddess, immortal woman, but I'm just a human man. There's only so much I can take."

I laughed, and contented myself with a kiss.

We left the hotspring and reached the decomposing hunter's cabin with the plum tree grove by midday.

"Nope no, blooms," said Zakhar, who had dismounted to peer at the small round buds on the branches.

"Let's cut a branch anyway. We can bring it back, and put it in water in the cabin. I'm sure Sanli and Kageyama will enjoy them."

Zakhar grinned. "Fine, but I'm still not sharing my wine with them."

But despite the playful start to the morning, the melancholy from the night before hung over me. Hung over us. Zakhar sat stiff in the saddle as we rode back to the cabin, his face distracted, and the smiles he gave me from time to time did not reach his eyes.

I attributed my own unease to Zakhar's attitude. However as we drew closer to the  cabin, I realized it was something else.

"Do you smell... smoke?" I asked.

Zakhar nodded, raising his head. "Aye, too much for just the chimney... perhaps they are burning something outside?"

My unease turned to fear, my fear to something like panic.

"Something is wrong," I said. I kicked In'yii to a canter.

"Ao, wait!" I heard Zakhar muster up Dunya to follow me.

In'yii struggled even in the low drifts, her legs unsteadily finding her own hoof prints from the day before. I ducked under low hanging fir branches, not caring if they caught my back and sent snow tumbling upon us. I urged In'yii faster.

When we reached the cabin, it was very apparent what was wrong.  The cabin was on fire, orange flames waving from its roof like strange dancers in saffron silk.

"No," I said, shocked. "No."

Under me In'yii paced backwards from the flames, trying to distance herself. I slid from her back and hurried toward the cabin.

"Ao, stop!" Zakhar yelled behind me.

I sprinted up the steps and pushed open the door.

Inside flames danced over everything. Heat burned my face, and the billow of smoke that flooded out when I threw open the door almost blinded me.

Coughing, I looked around as best I could, before flames destroyed my vision. Even in the inferno the cabin had become, I could tell there was no one present. No bodies.

I staggered away from the burning doorway, tripping down the last few steps and falling into the snow.

Zakhar dismounted and rushed to my side. "Ao, what were you—"

"They're gone," I said. "They're not there."

I should not have left the little prince.

It was then that I saw all the hoof prints scattered in the snow. Too many for just Makabe. "They've been taken."

My head snapped up, searching for more clues. A fallen item, a drop of blood. Anything.

I found one such clue atop a mound of snow someone had built beside the cabin steps, with the intention of attracting attention to the small item placed on top. It was the rat, from Zakhar's chess set, the one that he had carved that day in the hide.

No... not a rat. The hand that had put it there had seen a mouse.

"And what a bold little mouse it is," Captain Duan said, as he pinned me against the wall of the fortress.

I knew who had taken the prince. And why. The wooden mouse was an invitation.

"It's the Daquan. I'm sure of it." I picked up the rat and slipped it into my pocket. As I did I noticed then the sprinkle of sand around the rat figurine. Sand, for Changsha. "He's taken Sanli back to Changsha fortress... we have to go after them." I did not tell Zakhar that I suspected it was me the Daquan wanted, and the prince had become the bait.

"Ao... we don't even know if they are still alive," Zakhar's voice was gentle. "The Daquan wanted Sanli dead. This fire was started hours ago... what if it's too late?"

"It's not too late!" I snapped. "We need to leave for the fortress immediately." I stood.

Zakhar grabbed my sleeve. "What do you intend to do? Walk into a fortress filled with armed soldiers?"

I did not say anything. My mind was already clicking away, working out a strategy to get the prince back...

"Ao..." Zakhar said softly.  "What would you do if I asked you to leave with me?"

"What?" I asked, confused, only half hearing him.

"Leave with me. Forget about this. About the prince. Do not risk yourself. That is Kageyama's job."

"And yours," I said sharply. "Do you really mean to just abandon them?"

Zakhar said nothing.

I shook his hand from my sleeve. "Fine. Leave. I will go after them on my own." I turned to mount In'yii, who was sidling farther and farther from the flames.

"Wait." Zakhar's sigh was tired. Final.

"I will come with you of course..." he said. "Let me see if there is anything that can be salvaged."

Zakhar stood from the snow and crunched around the side of the burning cabin. He soon returned with a length of rope and the axe that had been propped against the woodpile, its handle burnt. The only things left.

We mounted up without speaking, and turned our horses after the trail of hoof prints leading away from the cabin, south. Toward Changsha.

As we rode my hand curled around the rat in my pocket. It was all that was left of Zakhar's chess set. And our time here.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Look at this gorgeous Ao by RiaNorton ! Ao is wearing the goldfish robe from the banquet scene in chapter 24! I want that robe... Ao's hair is down, so this must be after Qingxi stole all her hairpins.
Thank you so much RiaNorton !