Nico just smiled at his worries. "It is too formal but it looks wonderful on you." He slipped his feet into one of his boots, then the other. He laced the strings up. "And baby, I love you, but they already think that of you." And that was the truth. Something they promised to tell. "Wearing or not wearing your beautiful suit is not going to change that. Only time will. Once they get to know you it will get better." With his shoes tied, he stood and stepped behind Bel. "Wear whatever you want, wear nothing and I will still think you look handsome. Though if you do choose to walk around naked, I might have to gouge out some eyes for daring to look at you."
He smirked at the jest, thought he wasn't entirely faking it. Only Nico was allowed to see Bel in the nude. If anyone else did, well, there would be an issue to say the least. "I'm not sure how well I'll fare for a grand dinner. I don't think I've ever worn a nice suit in my life." He's never had the occasion to. He was always at war, always planning, always fighting. There was never anytime for anything nice. He dressed in his best leathers when they had the occasional wedding but that was it. It was nothing fancy or big.
Bels nose scrunches at Nico's words. "They already want to throw me into the river, I don't need to give them any more of a reason to." Taking a few steps forward, Bel shuts the door to the wardrobe and grabs his shirt from where he left it on the bed. "And I do appreciate your protectiveness–" Bel pulls his shirt over his head. "But I can handle a few looks, dirty or dirty. I'm not made of glass, remember." He smiles in what he hopes is a reassuring manner.
"I don't know exactly how formal she'll be though," Bel says as he sits beside Nico. "I saw her about a decade ago and that's when she was trying her damndest to please her father at every turn. He was a theatrical man." Sella would have to be around thirty now, five years older than Miran and eight older than Bel. "And I'm sure you'd look absolutely lovely in a fine suit," Bel leans in very close, just barely ghosting his lips over Nico's.
"I promise not to let them throw you in the river." Nico laughed, shaking his head. They wouldn't do that, no matter what their thoughts and feelings were. They respected Nicandros. And if he said the royals were with them, they wouldn't touch them. There was only so much he could do about the rumors and whispers. He couldn't force them to stay silent. It would just take time. "I know you're not but you still shouldn't have to deal with it. I am sorry. When we reach Blakkast you'll be surrounded by your family. I hope you'll be more comfortable."
He just rolled his eyes with a smile. "I'm not sure how much I'll like it. I don't like feeling restricted." He also didn't like not having a weapon on him. He knew weapons weren't exactly accepted when dressed in suits. He would have to find a way to conceal at least one. He had to be ready just in case.
"I'll be fine," Bel reassures. He knows he will. When they get to Blakkast, Bel will reunite with family he hasn't seen in a decade. He'll be safe in a palace without having to worry about beasts or bandits ready to slit his throat. There will be a luxury bed and a fine dining hall and an entire library to get lost in. He's had a significant progression in his vocabulary since he was twelve, maybe he'll be able to read the top shelf books now.
"Not all suits are restrictive," Bel answers. "I'm sure the royal tailor will be able to fit you into something that'll be able to move well." He smiles and kisses Nico once and then twice. "I'd love to see you in a fine outfit."
"I suppose I can bare it just for you." Nico clasped the back of Bel's head to pull him into a deep kiss. Finally, he pulled away and rose to grab a shirt. He pulled it over his head and tucked the shirt into his pants. He strapped his sword to his side and placed a couple knives in varies places on his body, hidden.
"Would you like to join me today? It'll be boring probably but it needs to get done. Or if you want to see your siblings or go cook in the kitchens you can." He stood in fron of Bel as he finished guttering ready. His blond hair fell in front of his face as he looked down at the prince. "And if you need me, just ask a guard and they'll take you to me
."
Bel watches Nico pull away, and then studies exactly where he stashes his weapons away. One in the boot. Bel tried that once, trying to be like Miran, but it quickly got uncomfortable and he had to remove it instantly. It's odd that Nico should wear so many weapons when their camp has been deemed so safe. He'll ask later, maybe at lunch.
"As much as id love so watch you do paperwork over your shoulder, I have apology-birthday-favor brownies to make my sister. I need her on her good side when I ask for a sleeping tonic." Bel looks up at Nico, towering over him. He doesn't mind it like that. He feels safe instead of small. "If I ever need you, I'll certainly call."
Nico reached out a hand and gripped Bel's chin. He bent his head to place a small kiss on his lips. "Good. Now, how likely are you to get upset if I place a guard on you?" While he highly doubted anyone would try anything, it was better to be safe than sorry. It would give him a peace of mind to know that Bel had protection in case the situation arose.
He dropped his hand to rest on his sword handle, the other one hanging by his side. "Remember to save me one of those brownies. And do you think you can bring me lunch? I likely won't be able to get away from the war tent this afternoon." Lunch was just an excuse for Bel to come see him. Nico would miss him terribly if he didn't see him until later in the evening.
Bel hums as he thinks, accepting the kiss. He wouldn't be too upset. He knows it's for his own protection. "Could it possibly be someone I've already been acquainted with?" The last thing Bel needs is a guard who doesn't know him. Kaillas, Cassian, Laurent, Braxton–one of them would be best. Bwl doesn't have to worry about them throwing him into a river.
"Do you take me for a housewife?" Bel smiles and stands to kiss Nico again and again. "Yes, I'll bring you lunch. Brownie and whatever else you'd like me to make." For having such a small appetite and disdain towards eating, Bel certainly loves to cook and bake. He had every birthday for the staff written down in his room and he would bake them a cake whenever the day would arrive. Once he reestablishes himself in Araniel, he fully intends to continue the tradition.
Nico nodded his head. He used his hands to brush through his hair and used a tie to tie it back. There wasn't enough time to have Bel braid it for him but that was alright. Later perhaps. Or at least tonight when they had the night to themselves. "I can ask Kaillas to watch you if you don't want someone hovering or I can put Braxton or Laurent with you. But if you get one eventually the other will show up." He just didn't know in what state those two were hot and cold.
Nico placed his hands on Bel's hips, smiling at kiss after kiss. He returned each one and even dipped his head for more. "Of course not, my love. But if you're already going to be cooking you can knock out two birds with one stone." Plus, Nico would miss him and wanted the excuse to see him. "Surpise me. I'll eat whatever you bring me." He squeezed Bel's hips. "Now I really have to go. I'll see you later alright? I love you."
(sorry I'm so inactive today ajfhjsk we had a massive party with all 60 of my family members and I never got a minute of alone time)
"I'd prefer without the hovering," Bel admits. He's had enough hovering through his life. He'll without a doubt be with at least one of his sisters, so needing a conversation between him and a guard won't be necessary. Bel will get his social fill catching up with either Val or Treya. Miran will without a doubt try to barge in on the war meetings.
Bel pulls away with a teasing smile. "Hmm, I suppose I might have time for something." And Bel knows that Noco will eat absolutely anything Bel will bring. He could layer grass and leaves on a plate and call it salad and Noco would eat every bite. "Alright, goodbye, I'll see you at lunch." He squeezes Nico's biceps and them lets him leave the tent.
Now alone, Bel takes a moment to tidy up the tent, guessing where mostly everything goes, and then leaves into the clearing himself. The tent his siblings are staying is isn't too far. Miran is likely awake already, the oldest loving to rise with the sun.
(Its okay! I worked all day so you're good. Might not be on a lot the next couple of days tho. I'm moving.)
Kaillas it was then. The assassin that was no doubtedly hanging around Nico's tent somewhere, waiting for him to come out. All it would take was saying his name and the man would appear. Nico smiled at Bel, kiss his cheek kne last time, before he turned and strode out if the tent. Despite his exhaustion and lack of sleep, he was happy. "Make sure you eat something fir breakfast!" He called out before ducking out if the tent.
Kaillas was already waiting for him outside, that eas dropper. Nico didn't even have time to open his mouth before Kaillas was speaking. "I'll watch him. I'm not a bodyguard though, u think my pay should increase."
Nico rolled his eyes. They both knew the man was joking. "I think I pay more than enough for the job you do. Stop trying to bleed me dry." The assassin grinned and patted his shoulder and then disappeared into the shadows. Not literally, Kaillas didn't have magic. He just knew how to blend into his surroundings. Nico walked over to the War tent where everyone was waiting for him already, and he knew this was going to be a long day.
(!! good luck moving asljd)
When Nico enters the war tent, Miran is already waiting in there. He stands in the corner, arms crossed and staring at the table in the center. The Crown Prince watches the blond king closely as he strides in. At first, Miran had been forbidden into the tent, but with a few heatedly-delivered points, he had been given access. If they're marching into Blakkast and then into Araniel, they're going to need a man who knows both rulers well and the kingdoms inside and out.
"You took your time," Miran notes, catching a small lovebite right behind his ear. The prince bites his tongue, quickly banishing all possible thoughts of his little brother and the king together in a very nauseating fashion.
Bel finds his siblings' tent and ducks inside of it. There's hardly any furniture–just two rooms off of the main one with simple beds and blankets set up in them both. Treya is sitting on a mat in the main room in front of a small mirror. She's messing with her hair, trying to get it into a reasonable style. Val is in one of the rooms sorting through her belongings. Bel doesn't have to read her mind to know that she's anxious without her weapons, without a knife or dart on her side.
"Good morning," Bel greets his sisters, moving to sit behind Treya so he can quickly braid her hair back. When they get to Blakkast, he'll have to help her put it in her favorite locs. "I assume Miran is having a ball arguing with soldiers and kings?"
Treya snorts and shakes her head. "He stormed out at dawn. I don't think he slept at all last night."
Nico stopped as he entered the tent, looking at Miran. Of course he was there. Why wouldn't he be? His lips quirked up in a smirk, shaking his head. "I haven't been home in weeks. Apologies for taking my time and enjoying myself this wonderful morning." He would have preferred to have spent more time in his tent, enjoying himself and Bel. But he had known if he had waited any longer he was risking someone bursting in and dragging him out.
He sat down in a chair at the head of the table, looking at maps spread out in front of him. He gestured for the rest of then to sit. His expression turned grim. He looked at Amrbose. "How's everything looming? Packing? Inventory?"
The man nodded, stepping forward to the table. "Packing has been going alright. Most people aren't happy of course, but they're going to be fine. We're running low on arrows but we should have enough blades to make up for it. We're drying the rest of our meats but I'm not sure if it's going to be enough."
Miran fades himself into the background as he watches the men speak. There's nothing that directly effects him here, nothing involving either of his parents' kingdoms. It'll all come eventually, so the Crown Prince stands with his arms firmly crossed and he waits. He keeps his eyes off of the king–Nicandros making him very irritable for a multitude of reasons, and only about half of them involve Bel.
Once both of his sisters are ready, Bel finds the mess tent and then the kitchen attached to the back of it. Val and Treya had already had breakfast delivered to their tent, the small portions easily consumed in privacy. Bel hadn't eaten anything since the dinner the night before, but he's not hungry, so he doesn't worry about it. Back in Araniel, Val had been banned from the stove and Treya had been banned from the pantry. The older was never sure how to fully work it and she never asked for help regarding it, causing an unnecessary amount of kitchen fires. Treya enjoyed stealing a variety of different foods to dunk in various mixtures and cause various reactions.
So Bel is the designated chef out of the siblings because Miran has never had the time nor patience to learn. The kitchen, thank the gods, is empty as the trio enter. Val finds a nice stool and Treya sits upon a countertop as Bel begins to search through different cupboards to find the proper utensils and ingredients. He would obviously keep it to a minimum, using ingredients that would easily perish on the road. Something fresh, something simple, something that Nico will love.
Nico listened as he was caught up on all of their inventory. It was a necessary thing. They needed to know how much stuff they were transporting. Nothing coukd get left behind. Nothing coukd be shown that they were even there. And there small handful of teleporting mages would need to know how much they were transporting. They could take so much so far. And over the years, they had accumulated more than enough things. They had all day today and all day tomorrow to pack. On the third day, the tents would be broke down and the rest of the company would be on their way. It would be slow. There were a couple hundred of them. Some children in the mix. They would try to put the children on horses or on the cart atta he'd sonthey wouldn't have to walk as much. But children were hard to keep entertained.
That ked the conversation to the next thing at hand. The route of Blakkast. Nico needed to know the exact route and the risk factor. There were a bunch of them and while most were trained warriors, not everyone was able to protect and fight. He needed to know if they were walking into beast or bandit infested lands. It would help him decide how many guards he needed on the outskirts of their party.
This was where Miran came in. He looked to the prince, waiting for his input.
"The route goes mainly through forest, but Blakkast is a mountainous terrain–" Miran steps forward, uncrossing his arms as he approaches the map lain out across the table. He points to the marker signifying their camp and then travels north east towards a printed mountain range. "The first three days will be the worst. I'm not sure what type of beasts lurk in the forests, but I'm sure we won't be alone." His crusades had never been in the direction of Blakkast. Thier alliance formed by his mother's marriage was too strong.
"I haven't heard reports of problematic bandits. Just the occasional thief without a party looking for a bracelet to pawn." He taps the map firmly, right where the mountains begin. "No beasts travel into the Blakian Peaks. The military there has trained a multitude of cougars, leopards and lynxes to defend the mountains." The last time Miran had been to Blakkast, he was only fifteen and marveled at the beauty of the cougars that the generals rode upon. He asked his mother for one fir his sixteenth birthday, but she was killed before the date. "If Sella accepts our request, we won't have to worry about little ones being picked off by enormous cats."
Nico nodded, looking at Ambrose. They would need every available man to be on guard. Just because their numbers were higher didn't mean they wouldn't be susceptible for an attack. Most notably the children. All able bodies 16 and over were taught at least the basics. It was up to them on whether or not tor purse a being a soldier. Those that didn't were usually relocated in a town dedicated to the Lisais cause. But a spouse or family member of a solider was welcome in their camp. It was how there were children.
"And what happens if she doesn't accept your request?" It was a valid question. Nico was uprooting his people's entire lives to move to a country that might not even accept them. Would they have to turn back? How would they proceed with this? He wanted to plan out every possible situation that could arise. He wasn't risking anyone's life if he could help it.
"She will," Miran says firmly, circling around thr table to get different angles of the map. "Sella's first decree as soon as her father died wad to terminate the alliance formed between Blakkast and Araniel. Sella's a smart woman, she's been on this earth five years longer than me and that's five years more of witnessed crimes. She knows what a pig my father is, but unfortunately for her, Araniel is Blakkast's only ally in this war."
After completing a full circle, Miran points to the mountains. "The demographic here is an isolated one. They had remained neutral on all efforts–that was until the war began to look for them and my grandparents quickly sold my mother away to Araniel. Shortly after my mother was killed–" He pauses to swallow the bitter taste in his throat. "Blakkast closed their borders, not wanting to put the royal family in danger of the same fate. I am unsure if Sella will open the borders for newcomers again or if she'll lock it down into an even stricter fortress. Either way, Blakkast is without allies and if she knows what's good for her, Sella will accept our help."
(Well officially in my new apartment.)
Nicandros listened as Miran spoke. He regarded the prince, nodding quietly to his words. While it was reassuring to know they were all but guaranteed access, he still would have liked to make a plan in case things didn't work out the way they should. He made a mental note to speak to Ambrose about it later. "Alright, so say Sella does let us in. How much can we rely on their help when they have no allies? There will be no one to back Blakkast up if things go wrong and Araniel invades. I think the first thing we need to do is figure out which other kingdoms support the king and which will support me. We won't be able to do this alone. Not even with the Lisais and Blakkast army. We will need more."
Nicandros looked down at the map, surveying the neighboring kingdoms. They would need help. They would need men and supplies. Mages as well. Anything was helpful. While there was a chance they could still win with just the Lisais and Blakkast, there would be mass casualties and that was something that Nicandros wanted to avoid. Even the death of the Araneil army. They were but men doing their job. They were given orders and they were to carry it out. They shouldn't be punished for that. Nicandros wanted this to be swift. A dragged out war would only cause more chaos and death and sorrow. His people had been through enough of that already.
(aksldfj yay! that's exciting)
"Blakkast is a mighty kingdom. Their allies may be few, but they are not without power." Miran pauses, unsure of how he should calculate his next words. "The royal family has magic in their blood." It's how Miran inherited his own abilities. His mother's magic had been weak, but her uncle had been rumored to be a great mage, one that served alongside the fallen kingdoms. "Most of their generals are skilled in that manner as well. There's a reason their kingdom hasn't been invaded in centuries."
Miran looks to the rest of the map, pointing to Irgeven in the West, Cobrass in the North, and Lumiere in the South, all of them equally placed from around the central kingdom of Araniel. "And these three countries are only bound to my own with marriage. Irgeven has remained neutral on the subject, but with Bel's betrothment, the Queen agreed to lend her inventions to Araniel. However, Bel is not in the kingdom where he's supposed to be. He's here and Queen Tacia just requires a bit of convincing to join our side. She agreed to marriage for an heir and only an heir. We could lend her a child and that's that." Miran shrugs, the idea clearly not serious. "The husbands of my sisters are… stupid men. All it would take would be a sweet word and we'd have their backing."
Miran finally stops his constant pacing. "My father is not a likeable man. It won't be hard to gather allies if we need."
Nicandros looked at Miran incredulously. Lend a child? "And how exactly will you lend out a child?" That sounded awful coming out of his mouth. He wanted to shudder at the thought. "Surely you will not give her Bel until they reproduce." Nicandrose would kill him if he tried. He would not allow Bel to be used by Miran or anyone else again. Bel was free to do as he pleased now. Ambrose shifted nervously next to him as he noticed Nico's rising anger.
Nico brought a hand up to his forehead, rubbing it. This was already giving him a headache and they had barely begun. He looked at the clock on the wall of the ten. It was only just past ten in the morning. Just a coyote more hours and he would get see Bel. He could get through this.
"Alright, so we can have allies easy. I think it's best to reach out to them now so we'll have a response when we reach Blakkast. We can't wait to send the hawks when we get there. We'll be loosing precious time. Draw up your letters after this meeting and send then out," he said to Miran. They only had three months. They couldn't waste any time.
"At ease, Nicandros," Miran drawls, narrowing his eyes at the king. He has to withhold his scoff. "Do you take me for a pimp? I would rather die a thousand painful deaths than sell my siblings." He tolls his eyes to take away from the slight heat of his voice. "There's a war. There's plenty of orphans in a war." Children don't have to be biological to be considered heirs. The King of Cobrass was adopted at the age of fourteen if Miran's memory serves correctly.
Of course Miran knows their time is limited. He's the one who set the deadline for the Solstice. "My sisters have much more persuasion over their stupid husbands. I'll speak to them later to draft their letters, but they'll be sent by nightfall."
Nicandros drummed his fingers on the wooden table. He suddenly remembered why he always volunteered to go out on missions if not just ti get away from this. Ambrose was better with these things. Nicandros was not a great strategist or the best warrior. Whole he would consider him better than the average person, he had generals and such to rely on for military strategy. They knew it better than he did. And Nicandros knew how to listen to his advisors and take their advice.
"We need mages," he finally said. "Magic will help us combat your father and his forces, and hopefully have the least amount of casualties. We need to find a way to encourage the mages of Araniel to join our cause and raise up against the king. What do you suggest?"
Miran laughs darkly, shaking his head. "All the Mages in Araniel have fled, been killed, or scared into silence. I know." His eyes get steely. "Over the past eight years, it's been my mission to get every person who could possibly wield magic out of the country's border and into the safety of the hidden tribes in the forest. For their safety and mine, we cut ties as soon as they were safe."
The Crown Prince stares at the map, at the red and silver marker that claims Aranian lands. "My father has developed many anti-magic measures. Poisons, gasses, traps–He's always expecting a mage infiltration." Miran goes quiet. He feels cold, the emotions getting the better control of him. He has to bite his lip–hard–just to distract himself from freezing his hands over. He knows his father wouldn't hesitate to behead him as soon as he made his powers known. "Our best bet would be a frontal attack with as many allies as possible, but then a small group will infiltrate from behind, killing my father while he's too busy sitting fat on his throne."
Nicandros listened to his words, lips pursing. He hadn't been expecting the anti-mage weapons. He should have but it had just never crossed his mind. "Would you be willing to speak with our weapons specialist about these different poisons and traps?" The woman lifted her head up at the end of the table as the weapons were mentioned. She like being experimental with her weapons.
"You know your father best. If you think it will work, I trust that. We'll speak more into detail when we have confirmed allies. Depending on who responds to us will determine who we proceed." Different kingdoms had different strengths. He would play to that
