At Sláine’s words Eurion was reminded that he had been lied to, that his mate had actively and willing lied to his face. He was a hypocrite for getting upset when he knew he would have done the same in a similar situation, but he couldn’t fathom the thought of lying to him, not now that he had spoken more with Aideen and Caoimhe about mates, now that the thought was solidified and that bond glowed at the realisation.
“I don’t like lying, Sláine. We’re-“ Mates. Eurion paused, sighed, and used his free hand to draw his princes gaze back to meet his eyes, “We’re connected, you and I. I am going to worry about you regardless and you lying doesn’t make that any better. It hurts.”
He understood why the prince had done so, but it still didn’t stop him from feeling upset about the matter as much as he felt guilty for doing so, “All I ask for is honesty, and I promise to give you the same.” Eurion would try, for Sláine, for whatever the fuck they had going on to see if they would make it work - mates or no - because at least then he could say he tried, at the end of the day. But they couldn’t do that if they weren’t on the same page.
When Eurion tilted his face to make him look up at him, Sláine slid his eyes off to the side for a brief moment. He hated making Eurion upset like that. Bracing himself for the anger had done nothing to ward away the disappointment in himself for hurting his assassin, and the sinking feeling in his chest that gripped at his heart.
But looking away also felt cowardly, so he forced himself to meet Eurion's gaze once more, though it was difficult to hold it. "I know," he said, voice just barely a whisper. "It could've been worse, but—I know. I'm sorry." Sláine lifted Eurion's hand and touched the back of it to the prince's lips. "I'll try; I'll do better." Because he couldn't promise no white lies. Sláine had gone most of his life diminishing the things that would make people worry until it was blatantly obvious he wasn't okay. It hurt like a bitch to see Eurion like this, looking at Sláine like this, so he never wanted to invoke this conversation again. But he couldn't predict the future.
"I promise," he said, and sealed it with a fleeting kiss before dropping their hands back to his chest. His heart was pounding. Fuck, it wasn't even a proper argument and he was still nervous and afraid, like a little kid being scolded and waiting to be put into timeout.
"As do I." By now Eurion's blush had faded. He didn't like having this conversation just as much as Sláine, but it was necessary. Having avoided difficult talks for most of his life, having no one to worry about or anyone to worry about him, they were both in the same predicament when it came to whether or not they would be honest with one another about their states. As long as they both tried, then they would be okay, Eurion knew that much.
The assassin moved his hand slightly, letting his fingers spread out across his prince's chest. His expression softened, doing his best to convey that he wasn't angry at Sláine. He was hurt, yes, but it would pass and they would be able to forget about it unless something like this happened again. All Eurion hoped for was that they would be able to talk- that Sláine would be honest next time instead of trying to hide it from him. But, he understood why he did, and so he couldn't be too upset with him, "Breathe, Sláine," It was more of an order than anything else, "It's okay."
He was the one person that Eurion didn't want to feel like they had to be scared of, that he would yell or shout. He was aware he had a short fuse, as shown with Aideen yesterday, but the thought of hurting Sláine was enough to wrangle whatever temper he had and shut it down. It wasn't the way you spoke to a partner, and as much as nothing was set in stone, they may as well be.
Sláine did as ordered on instinct, even if it wasn't fear that was driving his racing heart and emotions. The prince wrapped his fingers around Eurion's wrist and curled onto his side, facing Eurion's body and careful of the braids in his hair. "I don't like feeling you hurt and knowing it was me," he said. Because he felt it. Somehow, he could sense Eurion's hurt, just as he had sensed it when Aideen made them stop. It wasn't something he didn't necessarily want, but he hated knowing that he was the cause and that it could've been easily avoided.
And… maybe he was a little afraid of Eurion being angry. As sure as Sláine was in their relationship, he knew that Eurion could be a little insecure. He also knew that this entire thing was complicated, and had so many things that could make it even more difficult. What if Eurion got upset with Sláine one day and decided it wasn't worth all the shit? That, even despite the obvious bond between them, he didn't want to deal with being in a relationship with a prince? It had happened before, minus the bond.
But he wasn't afraid of Eurion's anger—his temper. The prince didn't fear being yelled at for nothing or for something relatively small. The assassin disliked lying, especially from the person he was connected with; that was understandable, and he knew he'd deserve the anger if he did it again and lied about something even worse. He curled up as close as possible to Eurion and peered up at him, making a point to breathe again. "It's just—I guess you're not the only one that worries over things. But I'm okay." His free hand rested on his assassin's leg, and he gently squeezed. "Still. I felt bad the second I said it. I'm sure it won't happen again."
Eurion was so tempted to pull Sláine up into his lap fully, have him seated there so he could wrap the prince in his arms and hug and hold him and tell him that, as much as he was hurt from the lying, he understood. But he couldn’t, and it fucking sucked. Not being able to comfort the way that he wanted. Not being able to kiss and hold more than the bare minimum to avoid the list of questions he was sure the other two already had from growing. The downside to their bond. They couldn’t have found it at both the best and worst possible time.
If it hadn’t sparked on instinct and initial meeting- impossible, Eurion knew- then they wouldn’t be in this mess. He wouldn’t have cared whether or not the prince lied about how much sleep he got, wouldn’t feel hurt that he had kept it from him despite his obvious concern and worry. They wouldn’t have to take small touches and hide their hands as much as possible with their bodies away from Caoimhe and Aideen. It would be simpler, so much easier to stay unbothered by all of it.
“I understand,” Cane Eurion’s soft response. Strange how his tone could shift so easily when it came to his prince, “You don’t have to explain.” The apology and simple conversation was enough. Eurion was aware of the fact they both worried, clearly more than they wanted and definitely more than they let on. Whether or not it was going to be more of an issue would be discovered in time, but for now, they would be okay.
Sláine had similar wants that he resisted. Just from the soft tone his assassin used on him and no one else and the look in his eyes, the prince wanted to crawl into Eurion's lap and stay there—warm, comfortable, and surrounded by everything Eurion. Sláine wanted to kiss and hug and breathe the man in to keep his heart calm and happy, to pretend like the world wasn't moving and they weren't important enough to need to do anything but be together.
They couldn't, though. The most Sláine could do was perch himself as far onto Eurion's lap as he could dare and hold his hand and give him promises. "I… can talk about it, if you want to know. Not right now, but later." Maybe at another time. Because right now, he didn't want to sour the idea of finding another inn and having his assassin fully to himself once more. The prince sighed and pouted up at Eurion once more—they could discuss their mutual worries later. "I can't wait to have you properly again. I don't like needing to set extra limits on what we can do."
Maybe, maybe, if he was feeling rebellious and needy enough, he could sneak a quick but desperate kiss when Aideen and Caoimhe had their backs turned—and that thought was crystal clear in the way he looked up at the man. Eurion would undoubtably flush and fuss at him that they needed to be careful, but Sláine missed him. It sucked tumbling so fast and so hard for this man, and not being able to express that whenever he wanted, just because it wasn't a normal thing to do. It felt natural to him, and he assumed it was natural to Eurion as well, perhaps even more-so. The connection wasn't a witch thing, that much the prince knew. But it didn't matter to him, because it pulled him in the right direction and gave him someone incredible—someone that he currently couldn't express that to.
Eurion squeezed Sláine's hand, offering a small, half smile that was clearly creased with worry despite how much he tried to hide it, "Later. Maybe we can talk about it later." Right now wasn't the time, tonight may also not be the time. It would be a shame to line the best part of their days with a conversation that would make them both upset and they didn't need that at the moment. They both needed something to look forward to. Eurion missed Sláine just as much. That burning and yearning for the other man only grew the longer they were in one another's presence and it was entirely unfair that they weren't able to indulge in each other how they wanted. As much as sneaking around was his entire life, Eurion didn't want to do that with his prince.
"I feel the same. It's why we should keep moving if you're feeling okay enough to do so." The longer they waited around the longer it would take to reach their next checkpoint. It was going to be another long walk and they would have to make up some time by travelling further into the night to hopefully regain at least a little of the time they had lost.
They couldn't afford any more problems. They would miss Skyfall, at least the beginning of the festivities if they kept waiting and having to stop, dealing with issues and dangers that weren't supposed to be real. Eurion wanted as much time with his prince as he could get, but right now they had delayed far too long for his liking. It was a struggle to think about having to pull away from Sláine so soon, especially when it felt like forever since he had been able to hold at least some part of him. Now they were going to have to go back to pretending, at least somewhat, that nothing was going on with the two of them.
Sláine sighed, severely disliking that subtle nudge to get up so that they could go. Caoimhe and Aideen undoubtably had their shit ready and were just waiting for him and Eurion to get a move-on, and they were running out of daylight. Logic didn't mesh well with what he wanted, though, and he wanted more time to be within this bubble with his assassin that still looked so worried. "I know. I'm feeling okay, but I'm not okay with leaving." But he would. Now that he was paying attention, his bones weren't too fond of him sleeping stationary on the ground, even with Eurion's thigh as a pillow. As much as he was used to it, that didn't stop his body from protesting the discomfort.
With a quick kiss to Eurion's hand, and giving up on his dreams of sneaking a real one behind their companions' backs, the prince rolled back over and extracted himself from his assassin's warmth and comfort. It took some fighting sudden dizziness from moving too quickly, and a whispered reminder to himself to go slow, but he eventually made it to his feet with minimal issue. Caoimhe watched from afar, having noticed his brother moving and deeming it safe to look that way.
They didn't know what to make of the situation. There were definitely thoughts, and ones that they shared among each other, but what they thought they knew about Eurion didn't add up to how he was treating Sláine, and they definitely weren't used to the prince so unguarded with another person in such a short amount of time. After a moment of hesitation, Aideen grabbed her stuff and resumed acting like nothing was amiss, going over to Eurion to pat him on the shoulder. "Sorry about him. Sláine gets a little cuddly when he's tired." Sláine bore his teeth in a silent snarl.
Eurion held back the comment that he was more than fine with the cuddling, as well as resisting the urge to place and hand on Sláine's lower back to keep him steady and secure. Instead, he opted to ignore he comment, picking his back up over his shoulder with a slight wince from his wound and making sure his bow was secure in his other hand, "We need to get going. We've lost enough time as it is and if we don't want to make camp in the middle of nowhere, we should get moving."
It was mainly because Eurion wanted some private time with Sláine more than actually getting to a safe place, but it worked out as being a positive thing either way. The woods closer to Dalthia became more dangerous the longer they travelled. Even the assassin wasn't fond of staying out in the open around these parts because he had had one too many bad run ins along the way.
He hoped it wasn't a bad omen, but considering his shit luck it wouldn't surprise him if that was the reason for all the crap that went down. Hopefully with the other three, whatever bad luck he may have could be counteracted by them but he doubted it. Logically it should just all be coincidence but Eurion never thought it was, especially when it came to who was watching over his every move.
Aideen hummed and clapped her hands, getting the twins' attention. "Alright, you heard the man; let's get going. If he falls behind, we're taking turns dragging Sláine's ass along. We're losing daylight, and I'd like to keep the thought of sleeping in a bed tonight." The younger prince didn't even waste breath arguing with her about his ability to keep up with them. If he did fall back, he had a feeling Eurion would be there to keep him steady and help him keep pace. An innocent touch, nothing out of the ordinary—especially when Aideen made him everyone's problem.
Caoimhe gathered his things, then Aideen's as well without a word when she rounded to him and handed over her bag. The witch wasted no time before shifting into a magpie and flying off to scout ahead, and Caoimhe went up to his brother and Eurion, gently shooing Sláine out of the clearing and towards the road. "Dee's going to fly ahead a bit. Stretch her wings and be useful," he said, mostly for Eurion's benefit.
Sláine rested his forehead against his twin's shoulder for a moment, a silent 'good morning' that was received with a gentle head pat. The braids Eurion had put in the prince's hair stayed, as he didn't want to take them out and ruin his assassin's hard work. It didn't need to be pointed out for him to know it had been Eurion's work. No one else had been close enough, to do it, and Aideen couldn't braid worth a shit, so that left only one person. After the brothers had their silent exchange, they separated and Sláine put himself reasonably placed between the two of them, though just a little closer to Eurion because he couldn't deny that pull.
"Probably a good idea," Eurion said in response to Caoimhe, "It would be nice to know if any danger decides to make an appearance again."
It was becoming a nuisance to have to resist grabbing Sláine's hand, hold his waist and make sure he was steady, whisper soft things in his ear as they walked to keep them both entertained and to get them to keep walking to make it to their next stop. It was going to be a long few hours, he knew that much.
The day dragged on, with the three men making soft conversation between them as they walked, both Eurion and Caoimhe making sure Sláine was okay here and there, offering to provide support if they thought the prince was going to falter but everything was okay. Aideen popped in and out, scouting ahead and returning to stir up drama and tease all of them which Eurion did not approve of when the area they were travelling through was prone to aggressive witches and witch hunters alike.
As much as he wasn't fond of Sláine masking his features because the horns and teeth were, quite frankly, becoming some of the most beautiful parts about him to the assassin. Well that and everything else about the prince. But it was a shame they had to mask them, although it was probably a good thing where they were currently, and Eurion couldn't help but be on edge as the sun began to set and they still hadn't made it to a safe place.
To keep their magic more exercised, as the masking wasn't quite cutting it, the twins played several rounds of catch. It was innocent, simple magic, but stimulating enough that it kept the metaphorical muscles of their magic warm and loose. They tossed anything between pebbles to odd sticks to the odd lost object off the side of the road. They'd throw them into the air in any direction, and it would pop up at random, the other needing to trace its path and catch it in time. Aideen judged them, but it helped Sláine wake up a little easier, and his magic thrummed happily.
He chucked the head of a mushroom off to the side, Caoimhe held out a hand and caught it all the way on the opposite direction. Just as the prince was gearing up to throw it back, Aideen came fluttering back and shifted back, oddly quiet. Both princes paused and looked to her. "What is it?" Caoimhe asked when she didn't volunteer to fill the silence.
"I don't know," she said. "It could be nothing. But there's an old camp a few miles up. Coals are cold and mostly ash, and the grass isn't flattened by any means. No sign of death or life." Which wasn't entirely a good thing. It could mean they were walking into something sketchy that got the last person, or there was still someone there, lurking. "I couldn't sense anything." No witch aura, at least. But depending on how powerful, they might be blocking it. The guard was stressed, unsure of what to do. But there wasn't really any other way they could go besides towards it, if they didn't want to get lost within the trees.
Eurion’s ears twitched. Nothing. No sound, no distant chirp of a bird or rustling among the under growth. Deadly silence. He should have known that whatever bad omen seemed to be following him, whichever one of his overseers had decided to make his life even worse than it currently was would let something like this happen. He swore softly in his mother tongue, slowly and very carefully drawing his bow in case anything decided to pop out.
Silently, he motioned for the group to keep walking. They didn’t exactly have a choice when it came down to it, they all knew that if there was anyone there they were going to have to face it. It was the only way, and Eurion wasn’t going to risk loosing everyone in the woods, not in the dark, definitely not with a tired Sláine.
They walked for another five minutes in silence with nothing making themselves known until finally, there was a crackle. It could have been nothing at first, just a snap of a twig but then it grew and grew and there was a flame hovering just out of sight. Eurion stilled, they all did, and then he shot the arrow he had had in his bow. It burnt and turned to ash when it got close to the same.
“Look who it is,” The voice called from the distance, taking a few step forwards into the light of their fire and in view of the group, “The little princey’s, their guard and-“ They paused, “A Fae of all people.” They laughed, “Really you- you three are unbelievable befriending Fae out here. If you didn’t have enough to worry about you gotta watch your back with him.”
The witches went on full alert at the voice. Aideen shifted and fluttered away to a better position for sneak attacks, while Caoimhe grabbed his scythe and held it at the ready, Sláine taking up position at his back with his hands hovering by his swords. Those flames might not be ideal for melee—he'd have to rely on his magic.
"And yet I see a coward hiding in the night," Caoimhe crooned, dropping the mask to snarl at the person. "Witch."
Sláine dropped his as well and kept his eyes on Eurion, even as he called back, "What do you want?"
Because this was obviously a targeted attack. They knew who the princes were even without the telltale signs, who Aideen was. And they wouldn't be hiding in the trees in the dead of night to have a fun little chat. Witches fighting witches wasn't uncommon by any means, they were just as prone to hubris as any other being, so they made no assumption that this was a friendly social call and went straight for defense mode.
Getting riled up by the attitude towards Eurion would do him no good, even if Sláine wanted to shoot back that his Fae was a whole lot more trustworthy than them right at that moment. But losing his temper this early on would backfire, and it would distract from the real problem: get out as soon as possible. His magic curled invisible fingers around Eurion's wrists and forearms like bracers, lending strength and hoping to comfort for mostly his own sake.
Eurion’s own magic twisted around his hands and his bow, just like it had done with the night stalkers. Only this was a witch, a person with magic that was opposite to his and no matter how strong Eurion thought he was, he didn’t know whether it was a good idea to use his own magic in this instance and leave it to the others. He didn’t speak, he kept his mouth in a tight lipped frown. But his arrow hadn’t done shit, hadn’t even got close to making its mark. He could already feel his shadows wanting to squirm away.
“Coward?” The witch slipped out further into the light, a smirk plastered across their face, “I’m not a coward, Caoimhe, no no no.” They chuckled, letting their fire grow and shrink, “As for what I want well, I’ve come for you two,” They motioned to the princes, “You both make a pretty good prize and your heads would do perfectly.” That grin just grew even more.
Eurion couldn’t help but feel his nerves grow. Somehow they had known that they would be there, that the princes would be out and with Aideen. Targeted, had they been on their way to the palace to get the princes themselves? Was this all a coincidence? He didn’t know, but he was worried for all of them at this point. Worried that his prince and his family would end up on the wrong end of that fire, worried that something would happen to him and he wouldn’t be able to help Sláine.
The witch took a few more steps forward until they were in full view, only a few feet away. Still keeping their distance but at least now they were in full view, especially with their fire highlighting their hard features and sadistic grin.
At the witch getting closer, Caoimhe held out his scythe in warning to stay back, his face hard and thoroughly pissed off at this point. A witchhunter, but one of their own. Looking for a quick payday, or were they a frequent hunter of their own kind? Did they join with hunters after convincing them they were a good investment? It was rare, but witchhunters sometimes did hire witches because they were adept at killing others. Either way, the prince wasn't having it and he narrowed his eyes at them. "Come any closer and it'll be your head on a pike. Not nearly as pretty, but hey, compromises have to be made."
Sláine elbowed his brother's back, silently scolding him for provoking the person who just said they're here to kill them. But with those flames… he was more worried about Eurion than them. His assassin's shadows would be rendered useless against the flames, and he'd be vulnerable. His arrow hadn't done anything to even so much as startle them. And fire wasn't something you messed with, however simple an affinity it was. Destruction followed fire, and fire fed on weakness and recklessness.
He resisted the urge to yank Eurion over to him and into his chest, but he did curl his magic around Eurion's ear, then dip his head down to whisper to himself. "Do not do anything stupid. If you see light coming at you, back off." The words slipped through a tiny pocket and transfered to Eurion's ear, sounding as if the prince was right by him. Telling the assassin to back away entirely would likely get him a dirty look and maybe a scolding after the fact, so he didn't. But Sláine didn't trust this to be an easy fight when they risked getting close and being farther away.
Up above, Aideen watched, waiting for the right moment to flutter down and attack just as she had done with Eurion—this time with her sword.
The witch tutted, their fire curling around their arms and hands. It grew with every second they spoke, crackling and flickering just begging to be released upon the group. As they scanned the three men, they noted the very subtle crease of worry on the assassin, how Sláine seemed to be positioning his body in a way that was protective of him as much as the witch couldn’t hear what the prince said. Weakness always showed if one was patient enough, stalled enough, because it gave them an advantage knowing that the Fae meant something to the younger prince.
“Who said I was coming any closer?” The witch’s head tilted to the side and the flames erupted from his hands, encircling the trio in a ring of fire that burned hotter than it should have, flickered and tried to lick at their feet.
In the back of his mind, Eurion felt his shadows squeal, the ones around his hands and bow were quick to disappear and vanish back into their respective places. He tried not to stumble as he did his best to move as close to the middle of the circle as he could, needing to get away as much as possible but he couldn’t help but falter slightly.
The witch turned their attention up towards the sky, “Now, where’s your little birdie lover, Caoimhe?” They tried to scan the area but saw no sign of the shifter, instead focusing back towards the ring of flame.
Caoimhe jerked back with a curse, but took that moment to let out a quick whistle. Several things happened at once. Sláine lunged for Eurion to drag him away from the flames and keep him steady. Caoimhe drove his scythe into the ground and used it as a channel for his magic. It surged through in a pulse to counter the heat of the flames, battling the magic to change it. And while the witch had that, Aideen dove out of the trees and shifted midair to have her sword at the ready, her body braced for impact.
Besides Aideen, who was going for harm at the least, it was a collective defense to set the scales back into their favor when they were quite literally surrounded, and one of them was out of commission. Sláine made himself vulnerable by going for his obvious weakness, but he refused to have Eurion falling into the fire.
"Motherfucker," Sláine hissed, and looked for something that could help to keep the witch unbalanced. The ground around Caoimhe's scythe had broken up both from the impact and the surge of magic, rock and dirt rolling loose. He didn't let himself debate too hard and swept his hand in its direction. His magic picked up everything it could, and just like their game of catch, sent them all in different directions to have them redirect and go right back at the witch. Distract, distract, distract, until they had a game plan.
The witch snarled. One against four- well, three - wasn't exactly the best outcome when it came to whether or not they were actually going to get the prince's heads or not. But they were certainly going to try. With the rocks loose and heading towards them, Aideen falling from the sky with her sword at the ready, there wasn't much they could do bar encase themselves in a ball of flame. Any rock or rubble that hit the outside burnt and turned to ash just as Eurion's arrow had done and if Aideen wanted some serious burns she was headed in the right direction.
Caoimhe's magic lessened the heat of the circle of flame around them, and with the witch distracted it slowly diminished into a scattering of embers that pricked up whenever they moved as if still trying to keep them contained. All the focus, however, was on that defensive shield of flame and so it was easy for the three to quickly escape the entrapment that had been made.
But it was never easy, never simple, and Eurion could feel the heat from the witch's flames even from a distance. He could hear and feel how the shadows in the trees scurried to get away, feel the ones that weren't quick enough and were lost to the light with nothing but a few sparks killing them. He was defenceless because he couldn't get close to attack without risking something dangerous and couldn't use his magic, and the assassin couldn't help the panic that set in his eyes at the realisation.
When the ball of flame finally softened it was clear the witch was having fun with the fight. They launched a stream of fire towards Aideen and one at Caoimhe with both their hands, but from the way their gaze shifted towards Sláine, towards Eurion? The assassin knew that they were waiting for an opportunity.
Aideen screeched as the heat seared her skin, even when she didn't touch the flames. She quickly shifted and caught the updraft of the fire to get as far away as possible, and hovered up above to reorient herself. She should've expected that, but had hoped she could take the opportunity presented by Caoimhe to take the witch by surprise. Apparently not. Her skin throbbed from the heat of the fire, and she tried backing away to save herself from it, but it seemed like a never-ending hell. Caoimhe, though, didn't let himself be proud of dousing the fire of the ring because he saw and felt the defensive fire and was readying himself for another lash. It was never easy, because it wouldn't take long to get stabbed in the back if they ran.
And he was right.
"Fuck!" Caoimhe threw up a shield to protect himself, and Aideen dove out of the flames' way in the nick of time, though some of her feathers were smoking from being singed. They were too busy protecting themselves to focus on Eurion and Sláine, which put the younger prince and assassin in the witch's direct line of view.
Sláine threw up a shield as well, just in case, but his focus was split between that and protecting Eurion. It wasn't as strong as he needed it to be. This was bad. Eurion was panicking, he was panicking because Eurion was panicking, and the witch looked ready to tear them apart as they attacked the other two as if they were nothing more than flies by their ears. "Eurion," Sláine called, trying to get the assassin's attention off of the dying shadows. "Stay calm for me, acushla."
Not even Sláine could calm Eurion’s panic. As much as his bow was drawn it was useless to even think about trying to attack when it was flame against shadow. And fuck were the ones around him loud, screaming from the heat of the witch and there was nothing that Eurion could do to try and help them.
The witch, when they finally took their attention away from Aideen and Caoimhe and leaving a wall of fire in their wake to prevent the older twin from making any sneak attacks when they weren’t looking, aimed at Sláine. They shot one, then two balls of fire to the ground to throw the prince, to have him stumble and drop the shield that wouldn’t have done anything in the first place, and the aimed for the third blow to his chest.
Time stilled and Eurion didn’t think or care as he lunged in front of his prince, pushing him back until he was out of the direct like of attack.
Then the fire hit him.
Direct to his chest, the fire burned. The ringing in his ears was louder than anything else, louder than his own scream. The shadows, his shadows… he couldn’t feel them, there was none of that insisting whispering that was always there, that soft comfort they provided, the way they wrapped around his heart and soul. The loss of them hurt more than the physical blow. He couldn’t feel them. Couldn’t sense any of them. It was a silence that ripped through him louder than the loss.
Eurion fell to his knees, the fire disappearing because it had done what the witch had intended it to do. Aimed to kill.
They were all gone. Every single one that Eurion had ever felt, that connection, he couldn’t find them. The magical loss combined with the physical attack had him screaming and screaming until his lungs burned with the force of it, till he was gasping for whatever air he could drag into them as he clawed at that hole that was left in his chest as if it was somehow going to bring them back. The assassin was dying and he didn’t care about that because his magic had been taken from him as if it were nothing and he didn’t know what to do but scream and sob.
No. No no no no no.
The fire had targeted Sláine. It had pushed at him and his shield, aimed for his chest. He shouldn't be hearing Eurion's screams. He shouldn't be seeing his assassin on the ground screaming himself hoarse and sobbing, clawing at his chest where he had been hit with the searing flames. For a fleeting second, everything slowed down. Sláine couldn't hear anything but Eurion's agony, couldn't see anything but him dying. For just a moment, he refused to believe his own reality.
But then everything came back all at once. Caoimhe let out a ferocious war cry from the other side of the flames. Aideen found another place to hover, and her prince jumped over to her to get out of the fiery blockade. They called out to each other, checking in and fighting for a plan because this was going downhill far too quickly. But Sláine wasn't paying attention to them. He heard it all, cataloged it, but nothing mattered more than his assassin. He knew he was dying, but he refused to believe it.
Sláine unfroze and dropped to the ground by Eurion, suppressing the heat of the fire, removing it from existence with half a thought because Eurion was dying. "Why would you do that?" he asked, his voice breaking. The words were harsh, more of a hiss than a question, but it was fear and anger mixing together to a degree he had never felt before. Ignoring the lingering embers clinging to Eurion's clothes, he pulled his assassin into a desperate embrace to try and keep him there with him. To comfort him in his pain even as he was afraid for him. He wanted to stay more, to verbally comfort him, but he choked on Eurion's screams.
Everything burned.
Eurion didn’t know whether or not it was his soul that was on fire or if it was physical. Air wasn’t getting into his lung fast enough, especially with his cries of agony preventing him from doing so. Distantly he heard Sláine speak but the words didn’t register and his throat burned from his own screams but at least his prince was alive. At least Sláine hasn’t been hurt by the flame. At least he had taken the entire attack.
The fire had been hotter than any other he had ever experienced. It felt as if it had cleaved his soul in two and taken the one thing the assassin thought he would always have. Logically he knew that they weren’t gone forever, he hoped, but right now there was no logic. There was just searing pain and emptiness and Eurion didn’t know what to do with himself except sob and claw at himself to try and bring his shadows back.
Nothing was registering, Sláine pulling him into an embrace was barely registering because he was too focused on the loss to say or do anything else. For someone who was usually so cold, the assassin was burning.
The witch looked smug as they watched the two, their flame crackling at their finger tips ready for another blow the moment that it was necessary, “Someone shouldn’t have got in the way.” They said, examining their fire as if Eurion wasn’t dying in front of them, “Sweet, that he saved your life, Your Highness, too bad he won’t be alive to do it again.”
The prince froze. He didn't need to see the witch to hear how smug they sounded, the delight in their voice that they managed to do such harm, and gloat about how they're going to go after him again now that Eurion was out of the picture. That smug bastard had the gall to be proud while Eurion was dying. He could feel the bond between them slipping away; he was losing his grasp on it, and his assassin in turn. Sláine went numb. Something within him slid out of place, shifted to the side and altered something within him. His eyes slowly lifted to the witch, and the galaxies within them flared like hot embers.
"Caoimhe," he called, voice level and calm, "Aideen. Stay by Eurion." The prince, as they moved to where they were instructed, looked to be a mixture of afraid and eager. Aideen picked afraid.
Sláine didn't care as he stood back up and started walking towards the witch. With each step, whorls of magic twisted around him. They grew from his footsteps, twisted around his body and latched onto the surrounding earth. It was audible, like the screams of the wind even if not a single leaf was disturbed. Closer and closer, he prowled for the witch with no care for the flames. No, his magic pressed against them, batted each dancing flick away before it could get close to him. The prince bared his teeth at the other. "That will be your last mistake." They were Sláine's now. His to destroy. His to erase from the world.
His anger fueled his magic, let it carve into the earth like earthworms. The world changed. Cracks formed within the earth—and within them, endless black nothingness. He would tear apart the world, warp it until it was just him and the witch—until they were no longer. The cracks circled around them until it was just the two of them on one section, and the others farther away. His magic felt his intention—erase—and hungrily circled the witch in the form of ghoulish felines, snapping their jaws and drooling ghostly acid.
Eurion wanted to beg Sláine to stay, to reach for his prince and tell him not to move because their bond was fading just as the assassin was and he didn't want to lose his touch. It was currently the only thing grounding him into some form of reality. Every breath he took ached, every time he dug into his being to try and grasp onto something, just one shadow, however small, he returned with nothing. He was too weak to keep trying, too weak to understand most of what was going on around them. But he felt the ground crack, could hear the anger in his prince's voice as he spoke and separated them.
The witch eyed Sláine, narrowing their gaze at the prince and then quickly shifting them to the cracks in the ground, to the felines that had him entrapped. A flicker of fear passed through their eyes. The prince had just… batted their flames away as if they were nothing. Something had shifted within him, the power that Sláine was using against them wasn't supposed to be happening. They hadn't expected it. When they went for the prince for the first time they had known the Fae would do something reckless to defend him. It was clear that the two had a bond from the way they had protected one another in their circle of flame but now they were beginning to regret it. The Fae was dying and that was what they wanted but whatever bond the prince and the Fae had went deeper than they had expected and now Sláine was looking at them like they were nothing but prey.
"Go on then. Do your worst." It was a bad idea to provoke but if they were going to go down they weren't going to simply give in in defeat. Their own fire encircled their hands and arms, flickering into the form of a shield and a sword but they knew deep down that it was useless.
Back with the others, Eurion was still clutching at his chest. He didn't care how he looked, voice hoarse and face stained with tears. He didn't care what Caoimhe and Aideen may think of him at the moment because nothing mattered but the loss that was ripping through him over and over again. It was then that a near pure, snow-white dove circled above, the only indication that anything was amiss, that it wasn't just a dove, was the specks of soft pink scattered throughout its features. Then it was descending, chirping as loud as it could to the figure that was hurrying through the trees towards the three of them.
