forum Opportunistic Omnivore: Scavenging the Remains of the Divine || OxO || Closed || 18+

Started March 15, 2023 by @ElderGod-kirky group

tune

When the assassin started liking them more, Caoimhe would find a way to wrangle him into being a stylist at least once. The braid being twisted into Sláine's hair was flawless already, even when just loose enough for easy removal. The eldest twin was just a little jealous that Eurion clearly liked Sláine better than him, but there were logical reasons for that—more time together, his twin was a lot better with being likable, and Aideen didn't help matters at all in the beginning. So, as much as he wanted to pout, he let it go and just made it his mission to get Eurion to like him too.

Aideen, on the other hand, wasn't too fond of the men bonding when she was playing upset with her lover. "I said we're ignoring him. Shush." She slapped a hand on Caoimhe's mouth, which only succeeded in making him bite playfully at her fingers and palm, but she expertly ignored it from experience. "Enlighten me: what are markerstones?"

Caoimhe licked her hand, which finally made her pull away from disgust, and explained. "I'm assuming the book he's been carrying around with him is my brother's, so he's already caught up to speed. Markerstones are basically ancient ass protective charms that depict and are said to be connected to the Old Gods, usually around sacred sites. That's where their name comes from—they mark the sites they protect."

"But being as old as they are," she mused, catching up to speed, "they're likely to be nothing but rubble, or at least broken in some way. And protection charms lose the magic they hold when they break." The prince nodded. "Okay. So, what? Are we going to try and override that and imbue them with magic again to get the Gods' attention? Or something else?"

"I don't know." The vagueness of the Old Gods had always got on his nerves, but now Eurion was in the predicament of actually having to explain to someone what their messages meant it made things all the worse, "When they came to me the other night I was just shown the markerstones, that's all. If I had any more information for you I'd say but I'm as lost as you both when it comes to what they want. It's why I figured the libraries might have some more information, maybe there's something there - history or legend or whatever the fuck - to get us on the right track."

Xuris, the one who made the most frequent appearances and the one who didn't have a fucking face, only ever communicated in images. Eurion had never heard them talk, whether that was because of the obvious reason or because they simply wanted to keep Eurion guessing, but they always started him on the right track, however confusing and terrifying they may be.

The assassin completed the braid that he was working on and began a second just above the first. That fear of them was creeping back to the forefront of his mind and the motion with his hands through the prince's hair was becoming more for him than it was for Sláine, however soothing it was for the prince.

Because Xuris was the one who had tortured him the most. Their presence had always been overwhelming even in the beginning when Eurion hadn't done anything to provoke or anger but it had only become worse as the years went by. Both emotional and physical. Xuris was most likely the most powerful out of all the surviving Old Gods. Probably why they didn't have a face because it wasn't needed when they were able to scare and torture without needing the added impact of a scowl. They were able to draw memories, create them, create scenarios designed for torture and Eurion had experienced it more times than he ever wanted and when it didn't help when they had the upper hand in whatever realm they resided in because the physical torture was just as bad. It was one of the reasons why he didn't ask questions unless necessary. Just in case he said the wrong thing and ended up back under Xuris' heavy palm.

Aideen hummed, thinking things over. It sounded like a complicated situation, and as the one who had been tasked with a vague mission, she couldn't begrudge Eurion for not having a sound answer. If her mother had been involved with the Old Gods somehow, in some way, then Aideen knew how little they were helpful by the cryptic messages and demands she had made to her daughter. Aideen knew next to nothing about them, just basic things that her mother had mumbled under her breath and the ever-present rule to find them. Find them to destroy them? Find them to scour through their skeletal bodies—at least, the ones that had died out—for some kind of magical relic? The shifter had no clue, so not knowing the details had been expected.

"Okay," she said with a single-shoulder shrug. "Then we start with the library and work from there."

Caoimhe idly ran his fingers up and down her neck, not quite a massage like Eurion had done for Sláine, but more a self-soothing process than intending to do much for her. It didn't sit right with him, now knowing that the Old Gods had supposedly died off when the Witches were created. He hadn't known the legends until the start of all this, not really caring about the legends, but Sláine and Aideen clearly did. The stories had to have come from some sort of historical basis. Did some die, and some remain? If so, then the remaining ones clearly had an issue with the Witches existing and being powerful enough to challenge their power.

If the twins were targets, did that mean they could challenge them? Was it a level playing field, or uneven? Who had the advantage? Was it power alone or the type of magic that made them threatening? Since his family was connected to the Middle, an entity all on its own separate from the Gods, were they a threat in that way? One foot in the Gods' domain, and one foot in the Middle's? He wanted answers to all these questions, but he knew that the older and more powerful one got, the less they were willing to give up answers. Even the High Witches that were basically as old as time but sociable enough to chat with the youngsters were cryptic and hoarders of knowledge.

Should they ask for some advice from the elder High Witches? "I think this is something delicate," Caoimhe said slowly, working through his racing thoughts, "and that we won't have all the answers at once. Rushing it might provide false leads and illusions to questions resolved."

Eurion hummed his agreement with the first prince, loosing a small breath through his nose as he continued to braid, letting muscle memory take over as he wove the hair in and out of the pattern and create the braid he was looking to finish, “As much as their messages are always-“ Disturbing? Tiring? Terrifying to the fucking bone? “Interesting, I hope they end up giving me something more soon, because all the cryptic shit is getting on my nerves.”

There was also the issue of tackling whether or not the Gods were aware that Eurion hadn’t actually killed the two princes. He knew that whenever they decided to make an appearance they would somewhere find out, there was no lying when it came to them because they would know someway or another. The thought of what was going to happen to him when they learnt he hadn’t gone through with it had him shifting uncomfortably.

Would they still expect him to kill them? Kill Sláind? There was no way in all the realms Eurion was going to kill him knowing they were probably mates. To think about losing him, even though they barely knew one another was devastating. If he had to suffer to keep Sláine safe, at this point he would do it a thousand times over. But then what would happen to them? To him? What would the Gods do? Pull him out of that realm and send him to another if they could? Kill him? It was a terrifying thought.

"From what I've learned," Caoimhe sighed, "anyone that reaches a certain point in life where they're considered ancient is bound by the rule to be a cryptic fuck. Even Witches do it, and it's fucking annoying when you want genuine mentoring. I asked for help, not a philosophical question."

Aideen patted him on the arm in mock sympathy. "You should've picked a different mentor, babe." The prince stuck his tongue out at her, unamused by her making fun of him, and the two devolved into minor bickering that switched into Caoimhe's native tongue. Eurion getting lost in his thoughts wasn't necessarily noticed by them, but it had an effect that had them giving him space and instead turning their energy towards each other. Namely, towards proving the other wrong.

In his dream state, Sláine called out softly to Eurion like he too was fearing the loss of the other. "Acushla," came the hushed whisper, too quiet for the others to hear. If he had been awake and privy to Eurion's thoughts, he would've fought against the idea of Eurion sacrificing himself. Dying wasn't on his bucket list, and he would've hated leaving Eurion behind without him when they both were so attached to one another, but the assassin didn't deserve to be punished over and over again for not fulfilling just one task. If it came down to Eurion getting hurt, or Sláine dying, his choice would be easy. But he also would know that Eurion wouldn't like that choice, just as he wouldn't like the assassin playing martyr.

The hushed name pulled Eurion out of his thoughts briefly. It was almost funny the the moment his thoughts had switched to the nervousness that was brought about whenever he thought out the Gods that Sláine decided was the time to sleep talk. At least the others hadn’t heard, it seemed, which was the good thing, because Eurion was sure the name that the prince used for him would invoke an onslaught of questions that he wasn’t ready to answer - or even had an answer for.

He did his best to steady his heart, those thoughts and returned to braiding as if nothing had happened, although his time he took longer, used his nails to massage a little more, if only to reassure Sláine that he was still there and he was okay. It was probably that bond that altered him, even in sleep, that Eurion was worrying. It wouldn’t surprise him, it was strong enough that he was sure it would alter the prince no matter what state he was in.

“The Gods have most likely always been cryptic long before I got involved with them,” He said eventually once he had gathered his thoughts, “It comes with the fact that they’re all powerful beings that created all of us, I suppose.” And it was entirely unfair that they would never give him a straight answer unless he had fucked up in some way or another.

Sláine settled with a soft sigh, seemingly happy with the reassurance, and didn't talk again. He wouldn't remember anything he's done while asleep. That was the good and bad thing about the fog Aideen puts over his mind to keep him asleep—it blocked him from retaining anything that happened between the time she cast it and when it was lifted. If Eurion asked him about it, he would have no clue, and likely be a little embarrassed that he called to the assassin in his sleep with the others around, no matter how quietly.

Caoimhe snorted. "Tell me about it. Have you heard of Hakmarrëse? One of the most powerful High Witches ever. Four arms, bleeds from her eyes and hands when she's casting magic, absolutely terrifying, whole nine yards." He waved all that away as if it wasn't relevant. "She's the mother of the vampires. Still calls them her babies even if the ones she created originally aren't around much anymore. But yeah, she's also cryptic as hell. Sláine and I ran into her a few times, and she spoke in riddles and incomplete sentences as if we'd understand her. I'm voting it's because she's old and batshit crazy."

Horrified, Aideen twisted and smacked him on the stomach this time. "You don't just say that." Every Witch that was taught the basic list of the "big shots" knew to never bad mouth them. "What if she knows you just called her crazy?"

"Then she'd pop on over here and agree with me." Caoimhe stuck his tongue out at Aideen, then pointedly ignored her sputtering to address Eurion even if he wasn't being looked at. "Cryptic is annoying, but I think between the four of us we can figure this all out one way or another."

Eurion lifted his gaze to the other prince as much as he wanted to keep his gaze on the one in his lap, "Four heads are better than one, although I'm not great at-" He gestured to the group vaguely, "Talking, so, I can't guarantee I'll be better at explaining what their messages are."

Because he'd never had to do that before. It had just been him up until this point and he had never had to think about talking through what the messages meant with anyone but his own brain. Even then he tended to never talk aloud it was better than nothing. All those years of solitude were going to be an issue. Maybe this was the time to change?

Eurion was quick to throw that thought away. They had a mission, a goal, and that was that. Whether or not they became friends along the way wasn't relevant. However the assassin changed over the course of their time together would come about in time, but for now, he didn't have to think about what it might entail- being stuck with three other people for an uncertain amount of time. Then there was him and Sláine's mating bond that neither of them were willing to admit out loud was, well, Eurion wasn't going to admit knowing for almost certain what it was, and that was another whole bridge he was going to have to cross.

As much as it was a relief to find Sláine, to finally have the other person he had been wishing to find for years in his arms, well, lap, what came with the knowledge was proving to be causing a lot more issues. Such as having a prince for a mate, the fact he was supposed to kill him and then all this bullshit with Aideen and the Old Gods. It was a lot for someone who had gone most of his life on his own.

"That's fine." Caoimhe leaned back against the tree and trapped Aideen against him with a full-body hug that acted more like a straight-jacket than a hug. She hissed at him, cursing him out for bringing down the wrath of such an elder, and he hugged her tighter to shush her while smiling softly at Eurion. "You've been all alone for how long now? We're not expecting you to be a communication master. If you do better talking to just one of us—like Sláine, for example—then that's fine, he can relay the information back to us. You have all this time to figure it out, it's no rush or a requirement to be fluent in the art of communication."

Aideen elbowed the prince once more, just to get her point across, and huffed. "Eighty-two years old, and he still has to have his brother talk for him when it requires finesse. Trust me, we won't be upset if you can't articulate things properly. Much." Caoimhe shot her a scalding look, and she smiled innocently. There might be times she'd want to pry the information out of him for whatever reason, if she was desperate. Sláine, on the other hand, she'd most definitely harass. He was used to it.

Caoimhe still wasn't letting up, so she swatted at his face and relented. "Fine. I'll just bug Sláine about anything he might know. Better?" The prince sighed and muttered a negative sentiment, but Aideen shook her head. "Princes. So prissy and pampered." She then pointed at Eurion. "Don't fall for a prince's wiles. They're so needy."

"Four years," the first prince stressed, "We have been princes for four years. That is nothing. We barely even qualify as royalty." Aideen mockingly mimed him.

“Four years is till four more than majority of the population. You’re more royal than any of us.” Considering the life of luxury the two were able to live in now they qualified far more than Eurion ever would, than most people ever would. Hell, everything from what they wore to how their weapons were made was more finely crafted than the best Eurion had. Caoimhe and Sláine may have only been princes for four years, but it was enough.

The assassin held back a sigh, finishing off his second braid. It was a reminder of how Eurion’s world was so different to their own. Four years was still a long time. A lot could happen in four years - kingdoms could fall, war and deception causing downfalls of kings believed to rule until old age. Even assassins changed in the course of four years.

“It doesn’t matter. Cryptic or not it’s going to be a fucking nightmare,” He mumbled before turning his attention to Aideen, his head tilting softly to one side as he asked, “Why do you want to find the Old Gods, anyway?” He asked.

Because all this bullshit was her idea. Eurion wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t been so interested in them, had somehow known who he worked for upon meeting with barely a conversation between them. He’d be dead otherwise, but that didn’t matter, since the guard was too intrigued with his overseers for some reason to keep him alive.

Given that, they probably shouldn't mention how Caoimhe had been put into consideration as the new king, then Sláine when the older brother made himself wildly unfit by his lack of knowledge on the history of their kingdom. The only reason they were made princes was because their parents had not wanted the title, citing themselves as too old to take up the roles, and their cousin had been made king for how easily manipulated he was initially. Now the nobles had a losing grasp on the ruling family, but they were trying to rip Azriel off the throne to put the twins back on entirely because of their deemed incompetence.

The twins weren't happy about their positions. It othered them from everyone, put them on a pedestal that they didn't feel they deserved, and every relationship they made had that underlying expectation that something will be expected from them, or that the other person would be too afraid to be themselves in front of someone with just a title.

Caoimhe went quiet, and Aideen picked up the conversation with Eurion's question. "My mother," she said simply, then elaborated. "I grew up with her sorta going insane on occasion, talking to herself with these cryptic mumblings I never understood. But two things she made very clear." She held up a finger, "Find the Phachao Keoa—the Old Gods," then held up a second one, "and that 'their messengers reek of bloody purity and flavorless spice.' I can't exactly tell you what that means, but it made sense when I met you. She drilled it into me while I was growing up, and up until she died."

“I don’t know whether I should be insulted or not at your mothers description of me, or that you found it to make sense.” Eurion let his fingers drag through Sláine’s curls, avoiding the braids above his ear but letting the red locks fall through his fingers and into his lap, “That’s a big ask of her, finding the Old Gods. Do you have any idea as to why?”

It would make things simpler if they be was aware of the reason they were supposed to be finding them. Simply randomly searching would be no good, and what would they do when they eventually did? Well, when Aideen eventually came face to face with them.

Coming face to face with the Gods in theory was easier than it was in practice. Eurion had learnt that the hard way. People always said that Gods were simply just beings with a power-complex, which not entirely false, but he’d met far too many people who thought they would have no issue talking or arguing with one of them simply because they didn’t care for the power they held. But when the time came it was widely different.

Power radiated from them, the Old Gods especially, making it difficult to stand up and say what you wanted when they were around in fear of fucking something up and ending on the wrong end of their hand. Eurion had been there too many times than he could count on both hands. If he was being honest with himself, he might have been a little worried for Aideen, for all of them, when it came to the end of the road.

Aideen shrugged, leaning back into Caoimhe's chest and forcefully folding his arms around her as she held his wrists. She acted nonchalant and talked about how she didn't care much for her dead family, having spent so much time outliving them, but there was still that part of her that missed them, and ached at the memory of them still alive.

"I don't know." She knew it wasn't the answer Eurion was looking for, but that was the real one. "All I know is remembering how she'd sometimes go insane, then back to normal, and making it a rule grilled into my head to find them. She never explained why." But there was speculation. Aideen knew how to take what little clues she had and try to piece things together. But this was a thousand piece puzzle with only three corners filled. She couldn't bullshit her way to a full picture.

But she could do her best. "I think she was scared of them," Aideen said, slowly articulating her thoughts. "I think she got involved with the Old Gods somehow, because she never talked about them outright more than the direct order to find them. If I asked questions, she skirted around the topic. Hell, she couldn't even answer me as to who they were. I didn't know the difference between some regular ass God and these old fuckers. I was a child. But she told stories that felt like fever dreams, and she was always so angry when I asked her for more detail."

Caoimhe hummed and said quietly, "Like she was afraid of you falling for them."

Eurion looked away, "They're not exactly beings people seek out, for good reason, too. Your mother must have had a damned good one if she wanted you to continue to find them." People didn't seek out the Old Gods. Hell, most thought they weren't even real, legends and tales that had been passed down over generations only to slowly be forgotten about by the vast majority.

He wouldn't have believed in them if they hadn't chosen him. If they hadn't arrived in his dreams and taken his mind to their realm and seen them with his own eyes. He'd learned some of the legends when he was a child but never fully understood or took any notice of what they truly meant, not until he had met them. Now he wished he still lived in that state of ignorant bliss. It would make his life all the easier if he had never become involved with them in the first place, never agreed to their terms and chosen to fight for them, kill for them.

"She should have been scared of them. Everyone should be scared of them." Beings that created the High Witches, Gods older than most of the world? Even just from the legends and stories it was obvious, they were beings not to be messed with. Not to provoke or anger or seek out in fear of what they may do. If you believed in them, in the stories, that was. Eurion had never been afraid of them until that first meeting, and it only became worse with time until he was terrified.

The thought of telling Aideen that she should give up and abandon her quest for the Old Gods crossed his mind. From what he had learned of her, however, Eurion thought better of it, knowing it wouldn't go down well. He was also wanting to avoid an argument and break that small olive branch he had given earlier.

Aideen waved her hands in frustration. "See, but that's the thing. She never looked for them. She kept telling me to, when I was just a child." Caoimhe shushed her, and she went back to holding his wrists. "The only reason we left our homeland was because the local Witches were being slaughtered, hung, and burned. We fled. She made no effort to find them, it was just trying to get to the safe haven away from humans."

It made no sense. Why was she so obsessed with the Old Gods, but actively avoiding them and pushing her obsession onto her kid? It felt important to Aideen, it had been one of the few rules she had growing up, so she refused to give up on it. But the why of the mission was a mystery.

"I know I dragged you into this," she said slowly, clearly hesitant and resistant to saying the words. But they had to be said, because things were civil at the moment and she had to half-ass some sort of apology for earlier. "It's not a jolly little trip for sightseeing, and you were just doing your job. It wasn't fair of me."

But if she hadn't, he wouldn't be tenderly petting Sláine's hair and comforting him while he slept. If she hadn't, Eurion would undoubtedly be dead, either by the hands of the Old Gods or a clean execution. She trusted her intuition over everything, and something told her that this, the four of them, were meant to be. Eurion was slowly fitting in with them, befriending the twins one step at a time, and rounding the trio out with another person from Aideen's underground world. She wouldn't apologize for that.

Eurion couldn’t help but arch his brow in response at the half apology. Considering how firm she had been with her words during yesterdays argument it caught the assassin off guard, staring at her in silence for a moment before he came up with the right response to what Aideen had said.

Because it wasn’t fine, dragging Eurion along on a mission that seemed impossible nearly in his mind. Saying the things she had said yesterday morning to all of them, but in the end, he supposed that he wouldn’t have met Sláine, would have killed him if Aideen hadn’t stopped him and that wouldn’t have been a whole different can of worms he would have had to face at some point. He would have none about the bond - or lack thereof, when he killed him, but now he couldn’t see himself without it.

“As long as by the end of all this it’s not all in vain,” Eurion shrugged, “It’ll be fine.” They weren’t friends, at least not yet, but if they were able to be civil with one another like they were now then maybe they had a chance of getting there. Right now Eurion was still mad at her, but at least they had a semi truce and that was enough. The princes weren’t terrible, Sláine was great, Caoimhe was becoming more likeable and it felt kind of… nice, to maybe have some friends, if that was what they were heading towards. If they didn’t all die along the way.

It was as much of an apology as Eurion was going to get from her, especially at the current point in their relationship. Aideen wasn't much for apologizing for things, with Caoimhe being the only exception most of the time. Even he had to pry some out of her sometimes, usually in the form of the kicked puppy eyes. And considering how stubborn and hard-headed Eurion could be, she didn't expect him to take the half-assed attempt and accept it. His response also surprised her, but she nodded all the same and left it at that. They could revisit this later if all things went to hell.

Time passed with occasional bouts of conversation. Eurion continued to play with and pet Sláine's hair, while Aideen and Caoimhe took the time to rest and snuggle, and the second prince remained cuddled into the assassin's lap, twitching and grunting now and then from the dreams he was stuck in. Aideen let him sleep for two hours, not willing to risk waiting any longer, and when the time came, she extracted herself from Caoimhe's grasp to undo the spell. The Witch knelt by Eurion and held her hands around the prince's head once more, her hands glowing, and removed the fog that had dragged him under and kept him there. Almost instantly, he took a deep breath and shifted, resurfacing. Without a word, she moved back to Caoimhe to begin getting ready to leave and talked quietly with him.

Sláine woke slowly. He groaned at the need to wake up, but blissfully didn't remember any of the dreams he had. Aideen's magic on his mind was a heavy one, but he was used to it at this point. It didn't make the grogginess any better to deal with or face. It took a minute for his eyes to flutter open, and thirty seconds for him to roll onto his back and squint up at the figure above him—his pillow. Just a few seconds for him to smile softly, sleepy, and murmur in a rough, sleep-ridden voice, "Hey, baby." Waking up to Eurion will never get old.

Eurion was already looking at Sláine when he woke, trying his best to hide the worry that shone in his eyes when Aideen lifted the spell. But that worry was quickly changed into one what had his cheeks burning and his eyes widening. Was the prince aware of what he was saying? Sure, Aideen and Caoimhe weren’t necessarily in ear shot unless they were trying really hard to hear Sláine’s sleep ridden words but it didn’t stop the assassin from panicking.

“Hello,” Was his first response, because he didn’t know what to say. Baby? No one had said that, not in the way Sláine had just done with that sleepy, soft smile and how he gazed up at him like that. It made his cheeks darken all the more and he was so glad that he was looking down and not at the other two, “Did you-“ He cleared his throat, “Did you get some rest?”

Obviously the answer would be yes, because as much as it had been nightmare filled at least he had had some sleep and would hopefully be feeling a little better. But Eurion didn’t know what else to say. The prince had him flustered easier than anyone he had ever met with just one single word and it made his heart leap- both from the fluttery feeling that arose at the name but also knowing that if they spoke too loud the others would hear and it would be Eurion taking the brunt of the questioning.

Oh, that reaction was beautiful. Sláine grinned up at Eurion, pride and affection glittering in his eyes. Eurion blushed prettier than anyone the prince had ever seen before, and so quickly at that. Was it the pet name, he wondered? Or the voice? Sláine knew he was attracted to the assassin's voice, so it was a possibility. But the quickness and deep coloring of Eurion's cheeks were too much to just ignore. It was the perfect way to wake up, even if he had been forced into sleep.

"Was that all it took?" he teased. He didn't care about the rest he got—Eurion knew that, and didn't really care either. But the assassin was flustered, and Sláine was so infatuated with this man, and he wanted to take every little sliver of time they could have together before the next stop. He reached out, lazily looking for one of the man's hands, and continued. "Baby? Do you like it when I call you that?" If so, he would start using it as frequently as possible.

Eurion was beyond adorable when this flustered, asking questions that had obvious answers and bright red in the face. Sláine had enough working thoughts to recognize the worry in the man's eyes, so he was sure to keep his voice down to avoid the other two hearing. Vaguely, he could hear them bickering over something random, so they had a low chance of even paying attention to him and the assassin. But Eurion worried, and though Sláine was too tired to care about being caught, he cared about Eurion.

Eurion opened his mouth to reply, closed it again, frowned - although it was more of a pout - and then took Sláine’s hand in one of his own when he noticed the other was reaching for it. It was entirely unfair for him to be teased that way because he was sure it was obvious that no one had ever treated him that way, with sweet, silky kindness and pet names and the way the prince continued on about it just had him flushing darker. It was obvious against his pale skin and there was nothing for him to blame it on considering where they were.

“Sláine…” Eurion mumbled. He lifted the leg that the prince wasn’t resting on up so he could perch his head in his other hand in a very poor attempt to hide the redness, “You- fuck you.” He really didn’t know what else to say.

He was sure if he asked about his rest again it would be ignored in favour of continuing to tease him about his blush and how quickly he became flustered at the simple name, so he didn’t bother. Eurion didn’t have many words at the moment because anything he said would come out broken and hushed and mumbled. The fact it had taken just one name to get him like this was unbelievable, but he wasn’t used to it, and especially when it came from Sláine it made his heart race all the more.

Sláine curled his fingers around Eurion's hand, happy now that he got to have some form of contact that wasn't just him using Eurion as a pillow. He wanted to laugh, and his humor shone in his eyes alongside the unabashed affection, but he also knew that Eurion only reacted so strongly to things that he had been denied during his life. Sláine teasing him that way was fun for the prince, and he thoroughly enjoyed flustering the assassin so easily with the simplest but most heartfelt things he could do, so there was no stopping him from doing it again and again for as long as he could. But he wasn't an ass. Too much, at least.

A tiny snort did slip through. "Not right now," he teased, then gave Eurion just a little bit of mercy. "Yes, baby, I did get some rest. I'm just tired now, is all. It'll pass eventually." Idly, his thumb rubbed against Eurion's hand where he had dropped them against his chest. "Thank you for putting up with me. I put you in a bad position."

When he was crashing, he had known it was a bad idea to go to Eurion for comfort. He knew that there would be suspicions and questions, and so many ways for the seemingly innocent act to backfire on them both. Their relationship was so new, so unknown when looking at the true depths, that they weren't at the right time to be divulging that sort of information to the others. But he had wanted Eurion in that moment, wanted his warmth and his presence, and it made it all the easier for him to fall asleep unguarded when he knew the man would be looking over him.

The name once again had the assassin’s eyes widening and he turned his head into his hand and shut his eyes just for a moment to compose himself just a touch, just to make sure he didn’t stutter to hell and back. Sláine was a menace for using the name again especially after his first reaction but Eurion should have known that the fucker would do something like that considering his nature. When his eyes had returned to their natural state, maybe squinted just slightly, he looked back to his prince, cheeks still flushed.

“I’m glad you got some rest,” He squeezed Sláine’s hand a touch, “It’s not putting up with you if I do these things willingly.”

Because he could have moved Sláine. Eurion could have asked Caoimhe to take his place and move away from him but he didn’t. He chose to stay, to remain as a pillow and give comfort. It ended up helping him, too, considering his idle braiding had helped him earlier from spiralling into a mess of worries and thoughts about the Gods that he was sure to return to later. Right now, though, Sláine was smiling up at him softly, Eurion was blushing madly and it felt like it was only the two of them in the whole world.

Once again, reality always seemed to still for a moment when it was just them, as much as Aideen and Caoimhe were only feet away, they felt worlds apart.

Sláine was having far too much fun with this. He just woke up, he could barely keep his eyes open—let alone function properly—but Eurion was being adorable and so reactive to Sláine's teasings that he couldn't help himself. Aideen and Caoimhe had noticed by now, and they spared the two fleeting glances before giving each other a look and turning the other way to keep themselves busy. They didn't know what was going on, and they didn't really want to find out right at that moment. They'd leave when they were ready and done doing… whatever it was they were doing.

"You look cute trying to look unbothered." So maybe Sláine wasn't quite done teasing his assassin. Eurion's squinted eyes only amused the prince even more when he noticed them, especially considering how wide they went every time he said the word 'baby.' The assassin was playing unruffled, pretending he hadn't reacted the way he did, when he had just needed a moment to compose himself. Not to mention the wild blush on his cheeks.

And maybe Sláine was a tad loopy from the deep, magically induced sleep.

He hummed and considered Eurion's statement. "True," he allowed, then tipped his head back a little in a small jerk, as if he were wanting a kiss. "But I know how much you worry over me, among everything else. You wouldn't have moved me even if you weren't willing." Because then the assassin would fuss over his comfort, if Sláine needed anything, or the inevitable reactions to him dreaming—because as much as he didn't remember them, he knew he dreamed.

It was tempting to give in to the want to kiss his prince when he tilted his head the way he did, but Eurion refrained. As much as they were holding hands he could blame it on Sláine wanting something to ground himself into the conscious world instead of the dreaming one. Totally not because they both simply wanted the touch. A kiss? That was harder to explain and definitely not worth the risk at the moment. Eurion was sure the other two had noticed whatever it was between them by now but he didn’t care because his prince had all his attention.

“I guess so.” Eurion would have worried. It was instinct to worry about his mate, especially when he was having nightmares and clearly uncomfortable. As much as he tired to hide the fact that he didn’t care about him, about any of them but especially Sláine, he was failing miserably.

Eurion moved the hand that his face was resting in, tracing the braids he had made softly with his fingertips, “I’m glad you got some rest. You needed it. You liked so tired and-“ He had worried, a lot, “I’m glad you’re okay now.”

It took a lot to not pout when he didn't get a kiss, even when he knew they couldn't, but Sláine couldn't help himself. It's been far too long since the last kiss they shared, and he wanted one—just one—to tide him over. But it wasn't the time or place for that. The bubble they shared still existed within a space that contained others. A little bit of the pout slipped through, along with a huffy sigh.

But then his face melted into soft affection and sadness, remorse taking the place of his pout. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't—it wasn't a lie, but I didn't want you to know. I was hoping I'd last until we got to our next stop." The prince turned towards the touch to the braids and dropped his gaze from Eurion's eyes. He couldn't face him. "I didn't like lying to you. I don't like making you worry either, though. I'm sorry."

Even if it had just been an oversimplification of the truth, Sláine still felt the sting when he thought about what he had told Eurion back in the inn. The assassin was worried about him, and he didn't want to stress him out even more, but in the end he still likely hurt the other with the untruth. The prince could only imagine how Eurion had felt when Aideen made the observation. He had felt the assassin's accusatory gaze on him. Anger was expected, and as much as he enjoyed the soft moment as he slowly woke up, he welcomed it because Eurion deserved to feel upset.