Nicandros watch the trembling prince. Part of him wanted to reassure the prince that no harm would come to him. He would not hurt him nor would his men. But, unfortunately, he could not. It could be a false promise.
He didn't enjoy hurting people. He didn't enjoy killing them either. Nicandros, however, was leader and he needed to get things done. Sometime that meant hurting people to save his own. And if there was no one else to do it, he would.
Nicandros pointed at three of his men. "Check his things. See if there's anything valuable or of use to us. And see if you can find more incognito clothes for our little prince."
He wanted Kaillas to remain by his side. Should the prince break free, Kaillas was the best chance if catching him if Nicandros could not. If the boy decided to make a move or draw a blade, Kaillas would spot it and stop the prince before he could cause injuries.
He binds the hands with the rope provided. It was tight enough there was no escape but not so much that it would be too uncomfortable. It would not cut off circulation. That was the most important thing.
Nico's eyes flickered up to the prince. "I'm Nico and these are my men. Laurent, Cassian, Braxton, and Kaillas." He pointed to each of them as he named them. "We're part of the Lisais our orders are to bring you back to our home. You are valuable to us."
That was as much as he was going to answer, at for now until they were in a more secure location. He wanted to convince Prince Belicoril of their side. Make him see reason and the prince join them willingly. But if that did not happen, well… Nicandros always did what he had too.
"Are you injured, Highness?"
Bel knows that the rest of his clothing bears similar to the outfit he currently wears. All of it is a dark shade of blue with gold accents. He and his siblings agreed when Treya was only four that they would color-coordinate themselves for fun. The oldest, Miran, took red and silver like their father. Valera wanted green and black. Treya was happy to choose yellow and white. Their favorite maids liked to call them a basket of paint for their choices, but it was only affectionate. Bel has never wished more for a simple black cotton cloak instead of the velvet navy one his seamstress insisted on making. It goes with your eyes! she had pleaded. Bel is no fool to know that his eyes were not anywhere near a shade of blue, but he was too kind to turn her down.
The rest of his chests are simply full of whatever supplies Bel could find that were able to fit in boxes: his favorite novels, essays, and research tomes; brushes and pens for ink and oils; plain parchment for his writing or sketching; needles with thread; steel skillets; a case of spices he had acquired from traders; a lyre, strings, and small wrench to tune; there's likely a hundred more.
The ropes being secured around his wrist bring Bel from his thoughts. The naming of his hobbies no longer a worthy distraction from the situation at hand. I could die. The thought is enough to make his heart lurch. Oh god, I could die right here and now–
"Pleasure to meet you, Nico," Bel says, though the thickness of his voice betrays the polite words. "As your men." He nods to the only remaining one standing somewhere behind the leader. The next question hailing from the leader does cause him to pause. "No–" He stills his breath. "No, I am not injured."
Nicandros nodded his head, looking over the prince for good measure. Shock could always hide the pain of am injury, he wanted to be absolutely sure that the prince was not harmed. He had no intentions to hurt him, at least not yet.
At the signal of Laurent, Nico stepped away, leaving Kaillas to watch over him. "There's not much here. No clothes to help him blend in. We'll have to loan him some. He'll fit yours or mine better than the others. The only other things packed away are just hobbies. Books and papers and quills. Not much value, unless you appreciate the arts."
Nicandros nodded. "Grab what you think we can get some coin on. There's a few villages we passed that could use it."
He walked back to the prince. He watched him for a moment, studied him. "Is there anything of yours you would like to bring with us? It can't be too big or heavy, the horses can only carry so much." Nico placed his hands on his hips. "We don't have much time. Find what you want. Then we need to leave."
He would grab a spare change of clothes when the made it back to their horses. They were tied by a stream, so that they could all wash themselves quickly and change if needed.
He only hoped that the prince had some stamina. They would be on horseback for majority of the journey home but there was no telling the future. Something could always happen forcing them to lose their horses.
He was always prepared for the worst.
When Nico steps away, leaving him in the care of Kaillas, Bel finds himself on shaky legs. He brings his bound hands up to his eyes to wipe at the tears. Valera would scold him for using a sleeve to scrub his face. Bel supposes these circumstances aren't ones where he's supposed to act like a royal. With no army nor palace, what is he really? A man in expensive clothes?
The vagabonds are going through his stuff. Normally, he might shout at them to be careful. Glass jars and delicate pressed leaves aren't sturdy objects. However, the men seem to show at least some decency, so Bel bites his tongue and leans up against the side of the carriage. Selling the items does weigh better in Bel's heart than destroying them. After all, if he doesn't benefit from possessing some fine cookware, at least somebody else will.
When asked if Bel would like to bring anything, he struggles to even recall what he had stored away in the crates. The men are kind enough not to kill him, and frankly, he's terrified by asking if he could take his favorite book of prose he could somehow upset them and then be on the receiving end of a cruel blade. "No," he chokes out at last. "I don't need anything."
His wrists feel agitated, the coarse rope irritating his skin. To take his mind off the feeling and to distract himself from the leader, Bel sweeps his eyes over the surroundings and takes them in. He had never been out of the kingdom before. It– It isn't nearly as frightening as Miran or his father made it out to be.
It was Kaillas who spoke this time. "You will not get this chance again. Grab what you want to keep. There is no judgment here. Everyone has their hobbies." Nico was thankful someone else was speaking to the prince. He couldn't very well make him feel welcomed if the others were treating him like a prisoner.
Well, he was prisoner, but he hoped he would become their friends.
Nico approached Braxton who caring for his injuries. It was a flesh wound. A good land at his arm but that meant he would be out fir any future fights until it began to heal. Nico would not endanger his injured man by forcing him to fight in a battle with a disadvantage.
He grabbed a punch of water to help clean the wound on Braxton's arm, taking over caring for the injury. They had nothing to wrap it with. Their steril cloth was back with their horses. So he took a knife to one of the prince's clothing and cut a strip. It would have to work until they returned to their horses. He wrapped the wound carefully before patting him on the back and standing.
"Last chance, Highness. We leave now. So if you want something, grab it. I won't listen to you complaing about us leaving behind your precious items when you had every opportunity to grab it. Where we're going, there won't be such luxuries as this."
They had spent too much time there, despite how little this road was used. Blood would draw attention of other predators lurking in the forest. Wolves and…others. He wouldn't risk it any longer.
He signaled to his men to wrap it up. They finished gathering the items and relieved lost arrows or knives. They were ready to go within minutes. All that was left was the prince.
There will be no judgement, they claim. Blame it on Bel's shock and fear, but he doesn't quite believe their words. Swallowing his pride, however, he points to the second crate that had been pried open. "The mandolin–" He would fetch it himself, but his wrists are bound and he doesn't quite trust his legs to carry him the short few steps. "Please," he adds because the last thing he needs is an angry rogue. "And the green novel. It's well-worn and has a garden etched into the cover."
A short rip catches his attention. Nico has one of his shirts in hand and is tearing it to ribbons. One of the men–Braxton, if Bel remembers correctly–is injured and the leader is tending to his wounds. Bel doesn't quite care that his shirt is being used as makeshift bandages, not when it shows that the leader at least cares for his squadron.
"How far away is…" he gestures vaguely. "Wherever we're going?" Now calm(er), Bel tries to truly take in his situation. They will kill you, part of him says. Not if I'm careful– the other half responds. If he values his head (which he very much does), Bel is going to have to be patient and work with his captors.
Kaillas only nodded silently and grabbed the two items for the prince. He was the quietess out of all of them. It's what helped make him a great assassin, how quiet he was. Sometimes it was unnerving. His stare could make his enemies squirm, babies cry. But now, it was calm, gentle. He was an assassin yes, but he did not harm more than necessary. His heart was not kind or gentle, but he had morals. He only provided a gentle smile before packing the Prince's things away.
Nicandros signaled for Kaillas to leave the two, another silent gesture. He approached the Prince. He was confident but not overbearing. He did not want to frighten him more than Belicoril already was. His lean figure helped ease intimidation.
Nicandros gave him a small smile. "I'm afraid I'm not privy to share that information. You are our prisoner. While you will be regarded with respect unless you lose it, I cannot tell you things that could endanger my men or home. All I can promise you is that as long as you behave, you will be treated fairly. I will not let any harm come to you." He held out his hand, gesturing for him to follow behind his men. "Our horses are tied by a stream. A short walk. Once we're there, we'll get some clothes for you to change into before we leave. Can't have you looking like that."
He shoved his hands into his pockets, assuming a relaxed deamor when every inch of his body was on guard. He was tense to the bone. He watching, waiting, looking for any sign of life.
Bel notes Kaillas's careful handling of his possessions with respect, returning the tight-lipped smile once he offers one. At least he won't be completely in a foreign place now. At least he'll have his mandolin and mother's book. However, his brief spout of gratefulness is interrupted when Nico finishes his handiwork with Braxton's wound. Tensing again when the leader approaches, Bel stills him with a steady stare. Though clearly frightened and still on the brink of a breakdown, he doesn't look away.
"That's understandable," Bel says quietly. He doesn't fight. Why would he? These men have swords and even though Bel also has one strapped to his belt, it's flimsy, mostly for show and the prince has no clue how to even hold it right! There was a reason Miran had endlessly ridiculed him while flaunting his own gleaming epee. (Will Miran be after him? Part of him wants to assure him his older brother is on the trail upon his trusty steed at the moment. Another quieter part of him almost wishes Miran won't bother.)
Bel's jaw sets when Nico addresses his looks. He knows it isn't a dig at his character, but it's still insulting to hear someone tell you to change. Regardless of what he feels in the moment, Bel bites his tongue and allows the leader to take the lead towards whatever camp they have by the river. He does a brief headcount. Five men. The chances of them bringing an extra horse are slim, leaving his options to either ride with another (how mortifying) or simply walk (arguably even more mortifying).
The men tell around the two almost immediately, guarding them. Nicandros didn't need the guard but it was safer this way traveling with the prince. For his safety and theirs.
Nocandros knew he was safe with his men guarding them but it didn't take the edge off. He was wound up, from the fight, from the anticipation. He needed to find a way to let it out. Sometimes he found it with another person, sometimes it was a drink. But none of that was happening. He would not put himself in a position of vulnerability like that.
As they approached the stream, Nico strode to his pack draped across his horse. He pulled out the cleanest clothes he had. There were no stains and no smell, though they were wrinkled. It would have to work. He approached the Prince.
"I'll take off the bindings to let you change but I hope you understand you will not be given privacy. Change quickly." He undid the bindings and handed him the clothes. He took a step back, watching. He kept his eyes a respectable height. They did not stray and did his best not to make the situation more uncomfortable.
Behind them, his men were washing away the blood best they could and filling up their water canteens. All of them were watching Nico with the prince. All of them on high alert in the prince made a break for it or charged at Nico.
Once the prince was changed, he redid the bindings, securing them without cutting the circulation. He placed Kaillas in charge was watching him while he washed the blood from his body best as he was able too.
Once they were all clean and water filled, they mounted their horses. All but Nico.
"Sorry, Highness, you'll be riding with me." Nicandros approached his horse and gestured for the prince to mount it first. He would have the prince in front of him as they rode. It was the safest and easiest way. "This is going to be a long trip. Might as well get comfortable."
The first thing Bel does when he's released from his bindings is rub at his wrists. The second thing is he blushes as furiously as his dark complexion will allow. Changing. No privacy. All in front of five men who could easily slaughter him right then and there. He holds the simple clothes in both hands. Stilling his breath and getting over himself, Bel brings one rattling hand to his neck to slip away the top two buttons of his overcoat.
The jacket hits the ground with a lifeless thud. He won't be needing it anymore. (Quite a shame. He rather liked the blue.) The white button-up beneath is simple enough, yet the golden embroidery along the collar and cuffs are far too luxurious for a simple man to have. Swallowing, Bel begins to undo the buttons. His face is hot, eyes averted to the ground as he slides off the shirt and allows it to join its predecessor in the dirt.
He feels five pairs of eyes on his fairly toned chest. He quickly dresses in the soft gay tunic that falls far too large over his medium frame. (His mind cycles through the men of the party trying to decipher who it could belong to. Almost as quickly as the thought arrives, Bel diminishes it. He doesn't need to know whose chest it had touched or who it smells like.) Now completely stripped of all his dignity, Bel slides off his fitted trousers for the shapeless drawstring ones. He at least hopes he can keep his black boots. They feel simple enough.
He doesn't meet Nico's eyes as he binds his wrists once more. The prince only looks up when Nico speaks of the horse he'll be riding. It's a fine stallion. He doubts it's purebred like every one in the castle's stable. Taking the hint, Bel grips the reigns uncomfortably with his bound hands and uses the stirrup to pull himself onto the stallion. Desperately he tries not to think about Nico's chest against his back for god knows how long. His stare never moves from the ground.
"You don't have to call me highness," Bel days quietly. After all, he can't be high and mighty while being kidnapped by some renegade group. What is a prince without his belongings and title? What is he to become without a kingdom? "Bel will suffice "
Nicandros clothes did not fit the prince in the slightest. It was to be expected. He was taller and more physically built than the prince was, even if he had a leaner figure. But ut would have to do for now. They were traveling incognito now. They would discuss their cover story when they stopped for the night. Likely sellswords. The details would be hashed out later.
"Apologies for the clothes, Highness. We'll buy you some better fitting ones when he pass through the next village." Nico did not say that that could be weeks away. While they were not on a time constraint as they were retrieving the prince, it was only a matter of time until news spread about his disappearance.
They needed to get the prince back to their home as quickly as possible. They would stop at one of their basses located within the boundaries of the kingdom first. Allow their horses to rest for a day or two. Perhaps take a crack at the prince. But if he did not budge, the prince would be blindfolded for the remainder of the journey. They could not risk him knowing their location, should he be let free or escape.
It was for the best.
Nicandros swung his leg over his horses and settled in the saddle behind the prince. Je was worried with his bound hands that he might fall should he ride behind. With the prince in front, he can easily catch him should he start to slide off.
His hands came around the prince, brushing along his side as they reached for the reigns. He titled his head so his lips brushed against his ear as he whispered. "Then Bel it is."
Then with a whistle, they were off, charging through the woods to get as much distance behind them as possible.
(okay okay I was thinking and what if Bel's siblings came after him? Like, not because the King ordered them to but because they genuinely want their brother back?? ohoho it would get messy real quick)
Bel doesn't say anything regarding the clothes. They're already kind enough to keep him alive, a complaint about ill-fitting clothes will not be the thing that sets off their repressed murderous tendencies. The question of exactly how far away the next village is lurks in his mind. How long will he be on this horse and in unfamiliar territo–
Shit. Nico settles in the saddle behind him and Bel's mind goes blank. Nico's chest is against his back and his arms are coming around his waist and– His heart skips and stutters and flips and drops all at once when the thief whispers his name into his ear. Why am I like this? His mind hisses. No, he does not– He does not feel this way for some… some rogue! No, he is- he is perfectly fine with his preference for women. It has to be the shock. Yes, the shock is causing his heart to do this out of fear rather than… anything else.
And then the horses are off, Bel biting his lip to hold back the semi-startled yelp. He wrings his hands together. The forest is… startlingly different than what his father and Miran had told him. While off on one of his quests, Miran had described it as a shadowy place with demons in every corner, waiting to unlock their devilish magic to slaughter innocents. His father had told him it's a place where the uncivilized and unjust go when civilization rejects them. It was with their combined efforts that caused Bel to form a fear of the dark, but he supposes it was for the best, no? Fear is a healthy thing, his father had said. Fear is what keeps you alive and in power.
(We could have some fun with that.)
Nicandros chuckled softly as he felt the prince tense against him. He supposed they had more conservative customs at the palace. In his little home hidden deep in the woods, such things did not matter. They could love who they wished, lay with whom they wanted. Nico himself found comfort in the arms of both men and women. It was bit shameful to them but apart of nature. And with other men, at least he did not have to risk an unwanted pregnancy.
They rode side by side. Braxton and Cassian at the front. Nicandros in the middle. And Luarent and Kaillas at the rear. It was the safest way to travel, especially with his cargo. Had they not had the prince, they would likely fallen into this formation anyhow. His men wanted to keep him same. And while Nico appreciated this, he didn't need it. He didn't like it. He didn't lime parading around as if he was royalty and his life was more important than the rest. It wasn't. If anything, their lives meant more than his own.
They rode well into the night. Nicandros sent a small pray to the gods for allowing this first night to go easy. There were no monsters praying un the dark, no search party sent out. Depending on what time Bel was supposed to arrive at the neighboring kingdom would depend on how much of a head start they had.
When the moon peaked in the sky and horses were trudging slower and slower, Nico finally called it. They found a spit in the woods to camp for the night. They wouldn't risk a fire, it was too dangerous. The smoke would attract people and creatures alike.
Nico slid off of the horse, then placed his hands on Bel's waist and helped him down. With bound hands, it would likely it would end in disaster should he try without assistance. He tied his horse to a tree and pulled his bed roll off of his horse. He would let the prince sleep on it. While Nico didn't particularly want to sleep on the hard ground, it was no bother.
"I know it's not a fetcher mattress but it's the best I've got." He said to Bel. Turning to his men that were setting, "Cas, take first watch. We'll each rotate. Kailass you're next, then me, and Laurent. Braxton, I want you to sleep and heal. Don't even argue with me."
Braxton was indeed already opening his mouth to argue but at the look on Nico's face, he decided otherwise.
Bel takes in the surroundings to the best of his ability. They aren't moving exceptionally fast, but Bel still struggles to catch all the sights. He recognizes a few different trees, hears familiar calls of birds, and manages to name the breeds of each of the five horses. Two of them are mixed, making it difficult but Bel eventually managed to come to a conclusion upon seeing the hoof shape and muzzle length.
He mostly does this all to distract himself from the setting sun. He prays that the dying light will remain, will somehow stain the sky a soft shade of orange for the entirety of the night. Unfortunately, nature does not meet Bel's demands and the sun disappears beneath the trees entirely. The sky moves from orange to pink to a violet, eventually leading straight into the dark indigo of the night. As if under a curse, all of Bel's senses go on high alert. Every crack of a twig in the bush causes his head to jerk, his eyes strain to make out shapes in the canopies, he swears he even smells death.
With the assistance of Nico, a blushing Bel dismounts the horse. He stands awkwardly next to the beast as Nico gives orders to his men, the five of them already unfurling bedrolls for the night. Oddly, he finds at least some comfort standing beside the horse. It nearly reminds him of his own favorite riding mare back home. She had a beautiful silver coat and intelligent eyes; Bel had named her Katya. Nico's horse could protect him from the demons in the shadows. Probably not, but it's nice to at least have a small line of defense between Bel's throat and whatever claws the shadows possess.
Nicandors strode back to the prince. "We can't risk a fire unless you wish to face dangerous far worse than us. We have some spare food you can eat. Not much. We'll have to go hunting soon so I hope you like meat."
No one in their party was vegan. To be honest, they couldn't quite afford it. While they did grow crops, it was few. There was no trade. Everything they had they grew, hunted, or stole for themselves. Never from the poor, only the rich. And they never took more than they needed.
Cassian had already taken up a spot against a tree, cleaning and sharpening his blade. The others were passing around the last of their rations, readying themselves for bed.
"I hope you understand, you will have to sleep with one of us tonight. You can take your pick, it's up to you. But you must be watched at all times." He picked at his hair. It was tangled. He needed to comb it. "I do apologize for this. This was not what we were expecting. But I want you to know it's not just to make sure you don't run away. We don't want anything to happen to you. It's safer to be by one of our sides."
He held out his hand, gesturing for the prince to join them at their little circle they made. It was almost as jd rhey could speak telepathically. They couldn't. The one that could remained at home. They each understood what was at stake. The each ybderstood the best thing for all of then was to convince the prince of their cause. It was the best way.
While upset that a fire won't be possible, Bel is at least grateful a lack of fire means a lack of bloodthirsty animals. "Understandable," he says, voice slightly hoarse from how long he hadn't been speaking. The idea of meat sounds purely godsent. "Meat is no issue." He used to go hunting with Miran and Val. Bel was usually the one to bring home game, granted he was the one with the bow while his siblings bore swords and rope darts.
However the idea of having to sleep next to one of them serves a much larger issue. "That's fine," he lies straight through his teeth. God, he hasn't shared a bed with someone since… since ever, and now he's about to with a stranger that could very much kill him in the middle of the night. (Something in Bel's chest flutters at the thought of being close, but the other part of Bel–the much more rational part of Bel–bashes that romantic part of him with a sledgehammer. He's a prisoner, goddamnit, and all these men are ones who will simply use him for ransom or information.)
Bel follows Nico's hand to the circle, sitting down somewhere in the space between Kaillas and Laurant. An empty space remains to his right, if Nico so chooses to take it. Bel's eyes search the five men's faces to the best of his ability in the low light. He notes their scars and battle-weary eyes. He has to wonder how they got to this position. They aren't nearly as cruel as his tutors made them out to be. After all, they have treated him with respect and he still has all the blood in his body.
Nicandros placed his bed roll next to the prince. "You can have it, my bed roll. I've slept with worse. You, however, I think will need it more than I." He had a pack he could use as a pillow and a cloak to use as a blanket. It would have to do. He had slept in worse.
He was passed some smoked meat and offered some of it to the prince. It wasn't anything near the fine delicacies they must have at the palace, but it was what they had and they would share their rations. They would have to make time tomorrow to hunt. Rabbit, deer, whatever they could get. None of them were too picky about the meat as long as it filled their bellies.
It was Laurent who started the conversation. "So, where were you heading too, Highness, before we intercepted you. They kept it pretty locked up, didn't even know it was you we were coming to get." Nico gave him a look to be careful with the information he spread. The archer only smiled.
Nicandros pulled his hair out of the half up style ut had been placed in, letting his blonde hair loose and it fell around his shoulders, framing his face. It made him look younger, almost. More a man than some heartless killer. Something he was not but had to play he was.
"Oh," Bel says softly when the bedroll is placed beside him. It was… kind. Whenever his brother and father told him bedtime stories of getting brutally kidnapped, it usually ended in starvation and torture, not respect and decency. "Thank you." He takes the rations offered with a polite nod and carefully brings it to his mouth with bound wrists. It's awkward but manageable. The food, naturally, isn't what he's used to. He's used to fine delicacies and lavish flavors from across the globe. This jerky could certainly use some spices, but alas, Bel chose to leave them behind with the majority of his belongings.
He waits until he's done swallowing before looking up to Laurent. "Irgeven, the kingdom over." He brings his knees to his chest and loops his arms around them. It's getting colder. Thankful to finally have some semblance of a conversation, he continues. "My father sold me off for an arranged marriage. I thought I would be safe granted he already did the same for my sisters, but apparently he'd rather have me gone." Now Bel doesn't think his father hates him. He doesn't think his father truly hates anyone… It's just he has an agenda. The king has responsibilities and a kingdom to uphold. He doesn't have time to entertain Bel's selfish desire to educate himself. "That or somehow the alliance between Irgeven and Araniel is wavering." He spares the briefest of glances to Nico at his right, but quickly returns his stare to the center of the circle.
Nicandros leaned back on his hands, legs crossed in front of him. He resembled an action of relaxation when he wasn't anything but. He wasn't sure how much sleep he was going to get. He was wound up tight. There was no release of this tension. And he needed to sleep. He needed to be at his best. It was one thing when each of them could protect one's self. But now they had a prince, bound, and at a disadvantage. It would be up to them to protect him.
Laurent only grimaced. He understood being used for political game. He had such problems with his own family before he had run away. "I am sorry. Your father's a cunt. No one should be used like that." Laurent grabbed a flask out of his bag, a wide grin on his face. "Want some? It's ale. Not the good kind but beggars can't be choosers."
Nico sighed. He had told him not to bring it bit he knew they wouldn't listen. They had self control, at least when on a mission such as this. They would not out themselves in a posiin of vulnerability. They knew Nico would have their head if they put anyone at risk. Literally.
He did not play when it came to the safety of his people.
"It tastes like horse piss." Cass chimed in from his lookout spot, "But you'll be dumb if you don't take it. Trust me. If anything, it'll at least help you sleep."
And perhaps loosen the tongue.
They would be careful with how much they pried. They didn't want to risk shutting the prince down before they were even able to get any information out of him.
"He isn't…" Bel starts but quickly trails off. He isn't that bad? No, his father truly is someone he loathes. But his father was also the one to present him opportunities and lavish expenses. It was an odd tradeoff. A fear of the dark in exchange for some nice pens. A tendency to flinch at fast movements for a lesson in an ancient language. When offered the drink he blinks before shaking his head. "No, thank you." He truly detests the smell of alcohol. It always preceded bad memories. "I don't drink."
Cassian's input slightly startles Bel, the man's voice coming from the dark and unexpected. "I'm sure I'll sleep fine," Bel confirms, though he knows it's nothing but a blatant lie. The only way he could truly sleep was with a lantern at the side of the bed or a lit candle in a sconce. He might nod off, but surly the smallest noise will be enough to startle him awake. In the morning he could nod off on the horse. Nothing he hasn't done before and he'll be caged in by Nico's strong arms.
"More for us," Cassian said yet made no move to take the flask. Despite his carefree attitude, he took his job seriously. He wouldn't endanger his job as lookout with even a sip of liquor.
Nicandros, however, did take the flask and took a sip before passing it around. Kaillas was the only other to deny it. Kaillas only drank wine. Expensive wine. And seeing how they didn't come across that often, Kaillas was the most sober out of the group.
It was rare that Nico let himself drink enough to dull the senses. It was usually only a glass or a pint if he drank. Sometime had to have happened for him to truly drink, and only in the safety of his home. He would not risk getting drunk in a tavern where anyone could pick him off. He was all that his people had. He needed to be careful with his life so that he may save theirs.
Nicandros touched the prince's shoulder briefly. "If you change your mind, feel free to ask. Despite the binds, you are more our guest than a prisoner. We need you as leverage, of course, but that doesn't mean you should be treated badly."
Belicoril was behaving awfully well for his situation. Nico was wary, waiting for him to break, if he broke. What he would do? He expected a prince to freak out, fight back. He hadn't done any of that yet. It was making Nicandors nervous.
Bel watches the flask rotation with expecting eyes, as if one of them would berate Bel to stop being a coward and down some ale. It doesn't come and Will can't help but be surprised. These men are treating him with more respect than the royal guard ever did, which is clearly saying something because his is bound and trapped between men who could surly snap his neck in an instant.
"Alright," Bel says softly when Nico touches his shoulder. He prays the lightless sky is enough to hide the flush on his cheeks. "I appreciate the offer." A guest? A guest? Pardon him for being at least a little skeptical of the concept. While they treat him with respect, he was still forcibly removed from his carriage and tied at the wrists. Regardless of his feelings on the matter, Bel bites his tongue. He's grown very used to doing so.
Horrifyingly, Bel finds himself stifling a yawn. It's ironic. Bel knows he won't get a wink of sleep eith his surroundings but his body still demands it. Oh what fun.
Nicandros noticed Bel become tired. He could see it in his figure. That should have been expected given the day the young prince had. He wasn't likely used to this. Besides the kidnapping, being out in the forest like this, sleeping under the stars.
He got up briefly to grab his pack and pull out his cloak. He settled his pack, his makeshift pillow for the time being, on the ground. He clasped his cloak around him and pulled it around him. He laid down on his pack. It was relatively close to Bel. There was maybe a couple inches of space but it was for the best. Couldn't have him running. He turned to the others.
"I'm going to sleep, I suggest the rest of you do the same. We leave at dawn."
Perhaps this would save Bel the embarrassment of wanting to sleep already when surrounded by strangers. "Try to sleep," he said softly to their captive, "we have a long journey ahead of us. We won't reach our destination until at least next full moon, if not later. You're going to need your rest."
Part of him was worried about the prince falling asleep while riding. While Nicandros wouldn't let him fall, it would be worrisome. If they were attacked, Nico would be at a disadvantage and it would risk both of their lives.
Bel simply nods and shifts to sit on the pad instead of the floor. He does feel guilty that he took Nico's bedroll from him, but he won't voice that. He wraps his arms around himself and sets lays his head down on the top of the bedroll. Turning his back towards Nico, Bel's eyes begin to search the surrounding area. The men around him all begin to curl up in their rolls, all except the watchman from his perch in the trees. Tall grasses, burly bushes, weeping trees, flowers that look like eyes– Bel shuts his eyes tight, feeling his shoulders tense with it.
There are not things watching you from the shadows. There are no monsters that want your head- Bel digs his fingernails into the palms of his hands. You are fine. You are fine. You are– A twig snaps and Bel sits right up. Clouds roll over the moon. He can't see the stars. He can't see anything. His chest begins to heave. His eyes cloud with tears. His hands are shaking all over again. Miran told him to stay in the light. His father threatened to throw him in a lightless room if he misbehaved. Val always replaces the oil in his lamp. Treya always stole it when she particularly wanted to harm him.
It's dark. Is all he can think. It's too dark.
