With the sunlight basking the room in a gentle golden glow, Eurion stirred awake. Slowly, and displeased about having to wake, his eyes opened. The groggy morning had him groaning, forgetting for a moment where he was and who he was with as he shit his eyes to help adjust to the newfound light.
It took him a moment before he realised what, and who was lying next to him, still sound asleep, and Eurion's eyes widened a fraction. He didn't dare move, not yet, and as much as he hated to admit it, it was comfortable having Sláine lying there next to him. Anyone who may have seemed them would probably call it cuddling, but the assassin would not entertain that thought as he became fully aware of his surroundings. Lying on the prince's shoulder, their legs grazing each other under the blanket of soft sheets that Sláine must have wrapped around them in the night. Had anyone been looking closely, they may have seen he slight red tint to his cheeks, if only at how absurd the situation was.
The memories from last night came flooding back to him. The dream, the Gods, how Sláine had comforted him and helped him and how he must have fallen asleep on the prince before he knew what he was doing or had any chance to protest and move away. But… the warmth and the feel of another body next to Eurion was too good to pass up, despite who it was lying next to him. He didn't want to move, or wake, the prince, not yet.
Sláine's mind drifted in and out of thought, not quite delving into dream but refusing to wake him now that he succumbed to sleep. It latched onto the comfort of another next to him, the way Eurion had looked dead asleep instead of terrified, or pissed off. The way his eternal scowl had softened a fraction. How quickly the lines between assassin and target had blurred in the face of a shared fear and the need for another. It swam in and out of thoughts about the Gods, as if they tried to invade his mind too, but they were quickly swept up and pushed away by others. Images of the past mingling with the present. The near future.
In his sleep, he twitched occasionally, nose scrunching up or muscles spasming. From his small movements, he got his curls all mussed up and in a mess, twisted around his horns and spread across his body. Images he wouldn't remember when woken darkened his mind to memories past, ones that would haunt him forever. This. This is why he didn't sleep. Sooner or later, he would be chased down by the hungry dog that was his life before now, and it would eat him alive in a heartbeat. It didn't take long for him to react in the waking world to the turn. The prince let out a sleepy little grunt and curled an arm tighter around Eurion, as if unconsciously seeking out the warmth of the assassin.
But with that move, Eurion was on his mind again, and Sláine settled. Even if drifting thoughts of what would happen once they left, what they would find, it was something else to think about. Slowly, consciousness crept up on him, but still taunted him, just out of reach.
How long had it been since Sláine had last slept? Eurion watched him and wondered. As much as last night the prince had teased him about 'taking care of him' he had looked tired. If he was awake all through the night, every night, how was he not a complete mess? Maybe he was just nocturnal and Eurion was thinking too far into it considering their lack of connection and that he didn't know the man, but it still left him wondering why he had been opposed. The obvious was that there was an assassin in his bed, which was partly the reason Eurion hadn't pushed- and for the fact that he didn't care, as he told himself- and someone had to watch him, but the way the prince moved in his sleep, twitched and hugging him closer, Eurion wondered whether the prince was also subject to nightmares, too.
With a very slow hand, and a very long inhale, Eurion moved one of his hands from where it lay between them, the only preventing thing between the two of them at this point, and placed it delicately on Sláine's chest. Partly to feel his heart beat, to subconsciously make sure he was okay even in sleep, the other, well, he didn't know why. A silent thank you for last night. The prince had been there for him, and maybe something subtle would be enough to show that he was grateful for him being there, however strange it may have been and how terribly the lines had blurred.
Eurion wouldn't bring it up, too ashamed of his fear and guilt to do so, but also because it was already going to be awkward between them when Sláine finally woke, and they were going to have to spend weeks, he guess, in the presence of one another and it would be very uncomfortable for them both if it was mentioned and things became difficult. This trip was going to be difficult enough, they didn't need whatever this thing was to make it harder.
The prince's heart was steady but rapid beneath Eurion's hand. The comfort his presence provided only did so much, but Sláine was no longer moving so much in his sleep as his mind latched onto other things to agonize over into oblivion. As it was, the assassin had yet to really witness the average night Sláine had, let alone the worst of it. And hopefully would never do so, but with them traveling together for however long they'd be traveling, it was bound to happen at some point. Either he would notice that the prince would doze off here and there during the day whenever he could, or Sláine would succumb to exhaustion and be on survival mode until he crashed, and ultimately got punished for it sometime during the night. There was no winning, and the prince was admittedly ashamed of it.
His twin knew about it to an extent, but didn't push him to do anything about it bavause he didn't think it was serious enough to do so. Aideen chalked it up to his travels, either when he visited old friends again under different contexts or went off on a mission with a small group of soldiers. It also wasn't an unfair assumption, because time zones were a bitch. But beyond their basic worries, they knew nothing. Caoimhe had his own problems to deal with, undoubtedly helped by Aideen, so Sláine didn't want to burden him any more than he needed to be. He was so happy now, even if still volatile at times. Aideen made him happy, helped him from the shadows of what came before everything they knew now. It was all so recent that everything changed, and everyone expected the twins to just… be okay. Act like the years before never had an effect on them. Act like there was never a time before the reign of their cousin. That's not how it worked.
Just as he was close to sinking back into sleep, a particular memory jolted him awake. His eyes stayed glued shut, but his body flinched and flew him into awakeness with a sharp inhale. Something felt off, and as he collected himself, he registered the body against his, the hand on his chest and head on his shoulder. The fact that he was actively holding this person. Fuck. He remembered last night. Sláine cracked open an eye to look at Eurion.
Eurion twisted his head, inclining it up when he felt the change in breathing. So the prince had finally woken and whether or not they were going to address their current situation had finally came. He swallowed, finally making eye contact with Sláine. He didn’t move, afraid that if he did the warmth of the prince wild fade far too quickly, “Good morning.”
His voice was quiet in the stillness of the early morning, only accompanied by the sounds of birds twittering away in the distance. He was at a loss on what else to say. Did they talk about last night? What had finally woken Sláine with a jolt? Talking was not his strong suit, but Eurion was going to have to get used to the idea and the practise of making active conversation, and not just talking about the Gods. He might go nuts if they spent the whole time simply deciphering what their messages meant and how to find them. Talking was hard enough, one topic for the entirety of the time they had together was even harder.
They should move, he should move. Being held and cuddled- the now no space between them wasn’t supposed to happen. Yet here they were, the assassin and the prince cuddled in bed together we if they’d spent a sweet night with one another and Eurion hadn’t been planning on killing him. But Eurion was still apart from his hand rising and falling with the rhythm of Sláine’s breathing and his head resting far too comfortable on his shoulder. Getting up now meant giving up the warmth and presence the prince had
provided. Getting up now meant facing what had occurred last night. It meant a lot of things, and, as much as he hated it, Eurion wasn’t ready to move yet.
Their eyes met, and neither of them moved. Eurion was peering up at Sláine from his spot on his shoulder, still pressed into the prince's side and still with his hand on his chest. And Sláine, in all shameful honesty, didn't dislike the view of immediately want for them to separate. This wasn't something they should've been doing, or encouraging. They were supposed to wake up, pretend nothing had happened between them at all, and go about their day as nothing more than strangers in a complicated moment of partnership that wouldn't last longer than a few weeks. The reluctancy on both of their ends to move was not supposed to happen. But Sláine's conflicted self only knew that he was comfortable, unopposed to the moment, and wanted to hold on for as long as possible.
As if reminded by the thought of holding, his fingers twitched where they rested around Eurion's side, but otherwise didn't move. Sláine nuzzled further into the pillow for something to distract him from the man looking up at him, but even losing half his vision to fluffy comfort did nothing to draw his attention from the cuddled up assassin. "Mornin'," he drawled, voice rough from not talking most of the night. He looked about ready to drop back into sleep, but he stayed awake, gaze not leaving Eurion's.
It was some sort of mental tango with himself and the assassin: would they, wouldn't they? The prince was comfortable and tired, and Eurion looked—he refused to think about how the assassin looked while against Sláine. But something kept him from rolling away and demanding they get up to go about their day. Maybe it was the urge to roll towards the assassin to hide away from the day and get some more sleep. Maybe it was the high comfort levels. Maybe it was the lingering memories of last night and the feeling that the bubble hadn't quite popped just yet. Either way, he didn't move at all, and knew that something had to be said before it got awkward. But he couldn't do anything but scan Eurion's face from below heavy lids and notice how dark the other's eyes were.
One thing did come to mind, though. Shamefully. Selfishly. "They won't be awake for a while." An invitation to keep being lazy.
Something about how they were laying like this, with Eurion pressed against Sláine, the prince's arm around him, how their bodies fit together… the thoughts had Eurion's cheeks turning slightly pinker, and at this distance? Probably noticeable, but Eurion hoped that as the prince had just woken up it would go unchecked. It was entirely insane what they were doing and how they were, but the way Slàine's fingers twitched around Eurion had him shifting ever so slightly into his hand, if only out of reflex to the movement.
At his quiet invitation to stay in bed, Eurion hummed, "That's… good." He mumbled. The comfort and the warmth, the gentleness of the prince's arms around him, how the prince looked at him? If anyone were to burst into the room and see them like this it would look entirely too much like lovers lounging around in the early morning, basking in each other's presence after a night well spent with each other.
The lines and waters between them both were getting blurrier the longer they stayed. They knew nothing of one another, strangers. But here they were wrapped in each other as if they had been long-time lovers, both of them refusing to move from their position either because they were both too scared to make a move, but from the looks, they both seemed to be giving each other, Eurion guessed it was because they liked it to some degree. The hand on Slàine's chest shifted a little, testing the waters to see whether or not he should remove his hand away, or wrap it further around for comfort.
Fuck me. So many bad choices were floating around Sláine's head that he didn't want to voice. This was his assassin. Would-be, anyway. He shouldn't be enamored by the way the man was looking up at him, or the slightest tinge of red in his cheeks, or even the small shift into his touch. He shouldn't be thinking about how they could lay like that for a little while longer because Caoimhe and Aideen had a horrible habit of distracting each other in the mornings, on top of his twin being a chronic over-sleeper. He shouldn't be, but he was. Eurion wasn't some stranger in a bar that he took home during the night for some fun. This was many lines being blurred for the sake of their mutual comfort.
And how long would it last? Would one of them come to their senses and declare to never mention it again? Did it begin and end at the prince's bed, a place they'd never meet again the moment they left to find the Old Gods? Sláine selfishly wanted to keep this little bubble of something for as long as possible, no matter how confusing. So when Eurion moving his hand over his chest some, he decided fuck it and took what he could get away with. If it ended this blip in what should be reality, so be it—even if he doubted it some by the face the assassin was making.
Shifting further into the other's space, the prince silently encouraged whatever it was that Eurion had in mind, and lifted his free hand from where it laid on the bed. He reached up for Eurion's face with a mixed look of several emotions, none of which he could pin down. His knuckles brushed the man's cheek as he ran a gentle thumb over the underside of the assassin's eye. "You look better." Rested. Soft. Not full of terror and hauntingly blank. The skin against his fingers was endearingly warm, but hesitation had him pulling away a fraction.
The touch had Eurion's heart leaping. He nearly laughed at himself at how ridiculous it was that he was nervous over this, but sneaking into the most heavily guarded palace on this side of the world, getting into the prince's chambers and killing them without being found out had not phased him at all. No, it was the softness, the gentleness and the intimacy of how close they were that had him nervous. His inexperience when it came to being physically close to someone had him nervous, because what did he do, what did he say? And this wasn't just a random man, this was the prince of all people. But here they were, sharing each other's air, leaning into each other and sharing their space with nothing but the covers and their clothes between them.
But the touch on his cheek had Eurion's cheeks warming some more, had the assassin leaning into Slàine's touch as if they had done this a thousand times over and this was their normal, and his own hand relaxing further around the prince's chest, not quite pulling him in further, but close enough - if it was mentioned he'd brush it off as simply wanting to be in a more comfortable position and not have a sore arm when they eventually got up even if that wasn't the case.
His eyes involuntarily fluttered shut - half to hide the look in his eyes, the other because he was scared of Sláine's reaction. He exhaled, "I have you to thank for that."
Had Sláine not been there with him last night, Eurion knew what would have happened instead. The night would have repeated like any other - the assassin staring blankly at the walls around him, afraid to move or talk or sleep. Flinching at any noise that was too loud or too close until he finally passed out from exhaustion and woke feeling less than well rested, if more terrified than he would have been the night before.
Sláine nearly pulled away completely, unsure why he even thought it was a good idea to touch Eurion's face like that. The position they were in was one thing, easily explained as being how they fell asleep and just haven't moved from it, but the touch to his face? Purposeful and blurring even more lines. But Eurion blushed some more and leaned in, and Sláine nearly wrapped the man into a full-body embrace. He restrained himself, though, and settled for cupping the man's cheek to properly hold his face. How long had it been since Eurion had been exposed to physical comfort, or any at all? The way he reacted to the little things, the look in his eyes, it was almost as if the prince was the only one to not treat him horribly.
The very thought had him swallowing it back. It wasn't something he was permitted to ask, especially not after last night. He could hold the assassin close and provide comfort, but he wouldn't pry into matters that weren't his to know. He huffed a small breath at the arm extending over his chest, and the thanks he was given, but otherwise didn't react. They were both toeing lines.
"Tha mo thiodhlac saor," Sláine said. His head dipped down until his nose brushed over strands of hair, closer than he should've dared—could've, when Eurion's eyes had been locked onto him—and he translated the phrase, the same one he had used last night. "'My gift is free.' Thanking me means you owe me, and you don't." He had done the bare minimum last night, but it was still something he would do a thousand times if he knew it would help and that the assassin would be okay. Really, last night had probably softened his heart to the man lying next to him—the one he was holding and not letting go of, the one that had admitted to trying to kill him and his brother. He now knew enough about why he did it to not be angry at him, not that he was before. Irritated? Maybe. But assassins weren't anything new, and the moment Eurion had realized his defeat, he didn't try anything. Sláine still wouldn't blame him if he did, not when the Gods were breathing down his neck so fiercely.
Eurion could feel the urge to argue- to push and say how, no matter what Sláine said about Eurion not owing him, the assassin felt like he did, he would always feel like the owed the prince for the display of kindness and generosity he had shown to him last night when others would have turned away. Whether that was because it would be a silent punishment for trying to attempt to kill him, or because they didn't care enough, usually it was the latter. For Eurion, everything came with a price. Everything good always had an underlying motive, something he had to do in return even if he didn't ask or want it. It was how the world around him operated.
But here with Sláine? With the prince telling him that Eurion owed nothing? He loosed a long breath, and any tension that he may still have been holding from the night before left his body. Maybe it was the final confirmation he needed to feel, not safe, no, but whole comfortable in his presence.
It had been too long since he had been held like this. He was tempted just ask Sláine to hold him tightly, even for a moment, just to feel it. To remember what it was like to be held by someone. The prince's hand was warm, and when his face was cupped he leaned further in before he could stop himself or tell himself this was a stupid idea. The line in the sands was no longer there. They had blurred last night but whatever may have been left between them had gone. If they chose to speak about this later, then they would, but if it was just this moment? Eurion was okay with that. Attachments weren't something that was common in his line of work, and after all, Sláine was a prince, they should have no connection at all. The twinge of disappointment he could address later if he so needed to.
"Not everyone would have done what you did," Eurion mumbled, "I'm thanking you regardless." He left it at that.
Before he could stop himself, Sláine let out an amused huff and muttered, "Stubborn." No matter the dynamic between the two and how it had obviously changed through the course of the night, Eruion was still reluctant to budge on certain things. Lying in the bed rather than the floor, taking a change of clothes, accepting that he didn't need to thank the prince for a simple act of kindness. He wondered what it would take to wear him down on this, just like how silence had worn him down on the others.
And as though he could read the assassin's thoughts—he could not—Sláine shifted them both a little by pulling Eurion closer, holding tighter to keep him secure, and adjusted himself so that they fit a little more comfortably with him facing the other a little better without dislodging him. At this point, the prince was warm and buzzing on a mystery high from being in such a way with the assassin, and he stopped thinking about the implications. They'd figure it out later, if ever. So he closed his eyes and gave in to the relaxation that washed over him, not realizing just how tense Eurion had been still until the man seemed to fully loosen up. A fantasy for just now. Real life could come later, when they'd have to reestablish their dynamic and tricky relationship.
Eurion's words still stuck with the prince, though. Not everyone would have done what you did. "Maybe not," he allowed, after a short stretch of silence. "But it… Neglect of visible cruelty is still cruelty, in my mind. I could see what they did." Both with the magic and with Eurion's fearful stare. The anger reared its head again, and he pushed it back once more with a few self-soothing taps to Eurion's side. Secret for a secret seemed fair, and he didn't want to bring up what happened last night for fear of Eurion withdrawing so soon. "I know the feeling."
Eurion sighed softly. At the shift in their position, it allowed him to bury himself in the prince's arms without thinking, his face now leaning against the other's chest and tucked away under in the mess of blankets and limbs that they were now wrapped up in. Tight, strong arms around him, legs together and his face pressed into Sláine's chest. Hiding away from the world, from the Gods, mainly. He knew that if the Gods so wished, Sláine wouldn't be able to stop them if they so wished to invade his mind again, but right now, he didn't care. The prince was a solid wall between him and the rest of the world, holding on to him tightly as if they had all the time in the world to cuddle and take in each other's presence and warmth.
For now, Eurion didn't care what happened after they finally got out of bed. If they would ever return to this state of quiet, soft comfort with no fear, or if they would never speak of it again. Realistically, they shouldn't. They shouldn't have even been in this spot with the assassin in the prince's arms like this. He shouldn't have been comfortable enough to even allow himself to be in this position. But that deep, hidden away want- need for someone, for something when the Gods violated his mind, and even in the moments when he didn't, flared up before Eurion could stop them.
He wanted to question as to why the prince knew the feeling, but speaking of sensitive topics so early in the morning, especially when they were comfortable like this, was bound to make this take five steps backwards. It shouldn't have been a bother to him if they did, but that feeling in his stomach told Eurion otherwise, despite trying to ignore it. His own arm settled a little more around Sláine, a silent plea to stay, even for another moment, for however long they could get away with before Caoimhe and Aideen eventually woke, "That wasn't even the half of it," The Gods could be harsher, he'd experienced it time and time again, "I-" Å pause, as if he was contemplating what he was about to say, "I appreciate you being there."
In all his life, Sláine never expected to think that a man taller than him, that had introduced himself with a solid scowl and an attitude, would be so cute when tucked up into his arms. He didn't even need to look to know that the sight of Eurion buried into his chest would make him melt and want to never give this up, if only to keep the man in this mood. Maybe they wouldn't be able to continue this particular activity when on the move, but the prince decided that he'd be more tactile with Eurion than he otherwise would've been, because a warmth bloomed in his chest and cheeks when the assassin held him back and used him to hide away from the world. If he could provide a sliver of the comfort they had now during their future time together, he'd make it count.
"Now you're learning," he said, a rumble of amusement in the words. Sláine curled around Eurion, sleep tugging at him once more now that he allowed himself to fully accept that he was cuddling with another person, and that it was soothing in a way. But he didn't want to fall back asleep, mostly because he didn't want to leave Eurion without him present, or because he was afraid of waking up once more without the assassin tucked away into his chest.
He idly stroked a thumb over Eurion's cheekbone, humming to himself as he tried to think of something. It wasn't working, though. He wanted to ask about Eurion, but that was too close to sensitive topics because he didn't know where things would land. Talking about himself was tricky too. Disgruntled, the prince got a little huffy and buried his face into Eurion's hair. "Talk to me. An dèan thu? Please? About anything." He wanted to keep listening to Eurion's voice. He wanted to know more about him, to properly know the man in his bed, and to be known by him, even if it was stupid little things. It was unfair to them both for him to know something so personal about Eurion, but virtually nothing about the prince was on the table besides his status and reluctance to part with the assassin in his arms.
Eurion breathed the prince in, humming quietly at his words as he spoke. He’d never thought he would ever have the opportunity to experience something so sweet and intimate with another person, not in adulthood. Any chance he had when it came to finding a connection with someone vanished the night he was Chosen. There may be some messengers out there who were lucky enough to find their person, but when your life was spent constantly on the move, never staying in one place longer than a week, a month if you were lucky, when death latched onto your soul and wrapped around you with no signs of letting go, it was difficult.
Difficult to find people if Eurion had truly wanted or tried to seek out connection. Difficult to stay knowing that every time he would have to leave, he’d return covered in blood and grime. Messenger of the Old Gods seemed to no longer ring true to him, he was Deaths messenger these days. He had prayed for a long while that the Gods had some other use for him bar simply being their weapon, but nothing ever changed, and so neither did Eurion. Desires were forgotten, and it wasn’t until Sláine - to feel the princes fingers over his cheek knowing his skin was warming at the touch, to how he was tucked into his body so nicely, had he remembered them. A century was a long time to go without touch such as this, he hoped it was the reason as to why his heart fluttered, and simply not because of who was doing so.
He didn’t quite know what to say when Sláine asked him to speak. He didn’t really have any talents apart from killing because he had never found time to do so. He had interests, sure, but he wondered if they would even be interesting to the prince, “There’s going to be an eclipse soon,” He eventually settled upon. Stars well, stars and planets, he knew, “The Fae are supposed to have a big festival to celebrate, to signal the new beginnings it brings. Starlight Celebration.”
"Really?" Sláine hadn't paid much attention. "I've never been to a Fae celebration, but I hear that they can go all out sometimes. Caoimhe and I have been talking of going to one sometime. In disguise, of course." There was no telling how the Fae would feel about two witch princes crashing their party. They might not care, but they might also be rather upset at them.
Now that he had a topic on his mind, the prince was awake and focused on Eurion. The blush had all of his attention, but he pretended that it didn't for both of their sakes. This… this meant nothing. The assassin had simply needed comfort the night before, and that extended into the morning when the both of them realized just how much they craved the warmth of another. Nothing more, nothing less. Sláine shouldn't be finding anything endearing about Eurion, or focusing on how the man's skin was so soft and warm beneath his touch, or how he could feel the man's breath on his chest through his shirt. He shouldn't be dreading the moment Caoimhe announced his wakefulness, which would trigger the need to separate and act like the complete strangers that they were. But they didn't feel like such strangers. Sláine had the overwhelming urge to protect the assassin from his patrons, to somehow sever the deal they had to get the Gods to leave him the fuck alone. He shouldn't be reacting so strongly to Eurion, but he was, and he couldn't help it.
Eclipse. Does he have an interest in the night sky? The prince sought out everything he knew about the topic, to provide something to talk about that wasn't solely reliant on Eurion. "Our people here have festivals too, but our traditions lie more around legends and storytelling than feasts and new beginnings. Lots of constellations and stars are centered around powerful people, like a remembrance of them. There's one constellation, the Great Hound. An ancient vampire mercenary that did many terrible things, until he was killed in battle, and he became the first hellhound. Servant of Death himself, called Cain for the nature of his sins." Sláine grinned a little, and dropped his voice to a conspiring whisper. "His daughter calls him Papa, and he's utterly devoted to his husbands. It's the cutest shit."
Eurion huffed a soft laugh, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips at Sláine’s words. Even if it was small, it was there, “That’s ridiculous.” He knew little of the witch traditions. He’d been around during a few festivals many years ago but wasn’t in the position to enjoy the festivities, if only because of work but partly due to the notion that he didn’t want to look stupid having no understanding of what was going on around him.
“Eclipses are one of the most important times for us, only followed by the winter and summer solstices.” He still remembered his first celebrations, how extraordinary and extravagant they were. Months of planning went into making sure everything was perfect. From the hanging lanterns that lined the streets and tree canopies, to the music and dancing, the vendors selling foods only found on those nights of the year. The Fae went all out. There was not a single child who didn’t know the stories behind his kind, the history behind why those times were so important to them. It was always a lucky year when an eclipse fell, bringing out three celestial celebrations compared to two. Some called it a lucky year, others just used it as an excuse to party and drink until they couldn’t remember their own name.
Eurion was one of the few who had only celebrated a couple times in his long life- another thing the Gods had taken from him before he could realise what was involved in the newfound position. Younger him hadn’t cared, but as the years went on and he found himself visiting his homelands during those times for a drink when he could and to watch the events, he started caring a little more.
“Skyfall often is on the same night, at least in the same week. When- supposedly- our ancestors fall from the sky to bless the new beginning the eclipse brings.” He’d never been during Skyfall, though Eurion prayed that eventually he’d have the opportunity. His parents had spoken of the beauty of the event- stars falling from the sky and dancing in a beautiful display of colour that was only heightened by the eclipse. Another buried dream of the assassin’s.
Ridiculous was the right word for it. When the twins had met the surly vampire, Kade had been wholely attentive of the small High Witch and spoke fondly of their Fae husband. It was a brief meeting, filled with Azriel huffing and puffing about how the witch had supposedly fucked his boyfriend. Sláine hadn't known what to do, as he had never seen his cousin so fired up over something, but Finn had only been amused by the situation, albeit a little defensive over the accusations. However the stories painted the vampire, Kade hadn't done anything to be a threat. Still, Sláine didn't want to cross the man.
As Eurion talked, the prince listened intently with a small smile dancing on his lips. An absurd thought popped into mind, and it jumped from his tongue without hesitation regardless of the implications it might have. "When is the eclipse? We should go to one of the festivals." It would be a break from the Gods for the assassin, and a connection to his Fae roots. But it would also be a source of fun for the witches, and an experience that likely none of them have had before. The twins loved nothing more than a good party to drink and dance at, and Aideen's only experiences with festivals and parties were the ones that Caoimhe attended.
He pictured Eurion at one such festival. Would he be dressed up for the occasion, or lurking in the shadows to avoid detection? Would he be coaxed to stay at the prince's side? Or maybe Sláine would want to stand back and watch him let loose on his own, comfortable with his people. Curiosity got the best of the prince, and so many scenarios passed through his mind; which meant that the idea of attending the festivals only solidified into his mind. Fuck the Gods. It would be nothing more than a pit stop, really. A small break, or even an excuse to find information hidden in the nooks of Fae lands. Excuses could be found anywhere if one looked hard enough—the twins were well versed in excuses for their shenanigans.
They'd of course have to mask themselves, and Aideen too. Twist their magic to make them look Fae to fit in. But the prince didn't mind it as much when the thought of fun came into play. And Eurion. Eurion having fun. Eurion not afraid, even if for a few hours at a time.
Eurion's eyes opened and he looked up at Sláine, "It's a week from tomorrow but-" Would it be a good idea to even go? With the Gods breathing down his neck, probably watching his every move, would they even have time? He remembered what the prince had said last night about time, how the assassin didn't need to worry about it anymore because they were on his turf and it would be okay but he still couldn't help but worry, and it showed, "They aren't patient and your guard friend also doesn't seem patient."
The Fae lands were a few days trek out from the palace, and it wasn't the easiest terrain to cross, probably why the Fae were so detached when it came to the rest of the kingdom- not that they cared, they were secluded people to begin with but when taking into account the new deal that had been made? Eurion didn't know if it was a good idea. As much as he would love to say yes. Yes to experiencing the festival, Skyfall, and being there with someone else who also sounded like they wanted to go, but he couldn't help but focus on what could go wrong. It was in his nature to access and weigh the outcomes. What happened if the Gods made themselves known during the festival? That would take away all the fun from the night and if they were drinking then he doubted there would be any help from Sláine like last night.
And the markerstones.. what about them? Eurion had seen no such thing in his homelands so it would be completely unhelpful to take a detour through under the guise of trying to find one of the stones. He guesses that the libraries of the Fae may hold some more information on the things, and the Old Gods, too. They had books that dated back centuries, there would be bound to be something there but either way, it was a long shot. They'd all become distracted by the festival events on top of that. Eurion knew he would, too wrapped up in the idea and being able to finally experience something as magical as the Eclipse and Skyfall but if he let his guard down too far chances were something bad was going to happen. It always did.
When he felt Eurion moving his head, Sláine lifted his own to make it easier to look at one another. He didn't like the eyes he was being given this time. They weren't filled with a seeming drunkenness of comfort, but tinged in fear and worry. The prince wanted to erase that look, just as he had erased the one from last night, but this time the origin had to be pinned onto him for bringing up something that would reasonably worry the assassin. He could see every thought crossing the man's mind, even if he didn't voice the entirety of them. What he did say was enough, though, and Sláine addressed them one at a time—the second one was easy enough. "Aideen can be made patient. She's as guilty of being a scoundrel as you are, and can be as patient as you if she needs to be." It's how she caught you, he didn't add, but the silent addition sparkled in his eyes. Humor might not be the best choice at the moment.
And as for the first worry, the prince shifted, sliding the hand on Eurion's face down until he caught the assassin's chin in his grasp and tilted his face up so he couldn't hide away. Of course, he refused to acknowledge how his thumb bumped against Eurion's bottom lip. "They chose you," he murmured. "They chose you for a reason. They send messages to you for a reason. You have done what they ask for. If they cut you down after all you've done for them for something as stupid as a slight delay, then that makes them cowards." Provoking the Gods? Perhaps not a good idea, but in his lifetime, he came to realize that challenging someone with an accusation such as cowardice tended to work in your favor, at least once. "Such powerful beings being so afraid of their sword defecting for a festival? Sounds like cowardice to me. If you were so easily replaceable, they'd have many more in the world fulfilling their dirty work."
The prince scanned Eurion's expression for a few seconds, tawny eyes full of galaxies that seemed to rumble with a silent storm. No matter his feelings on the Gods, though, his voice was soft and gentle as he spoke again. "But we don't have to go, if you don't want to." He'd never mention it to his brother or Aideen. They'd never have to know of this conversation. He'd respect Eurion's choice in the matter without hesitation or question.
You don’t know them like I do. Years spent under their watchful eyes, tormenting and using him for whatever they wished, taking out those they wanted and deemed necessary. Year after year with no break bar a few days when he physically was incapable of being used. Eurion felt less like a person the longer things went on and more like a tool. Sure, the Gods hadn’t replaced him yet, but they didn’t have a need, not while he was still willing and in peak performance. Not when he didn’t complain or ask for anything more than just one day off.
The change in Sláine’s hand, the slight touch to his lip had Eurion catching it in his teeth for a moment. Even if he wanted to turn his head away the prince’s hold on him prevented it. Rational thought told him to close his eyes, but something about those eyes, the way the prince was looking at him had his gaze fixed on him despite his better judgment.
“I never said I didn’t want to go.” He said, letting his gaze scan Sláine’s face- from his eyes, to his lips and nose and back again- because oh did he want to. He wouldn’t let the extent of how desperate he was to attend the festival, because over eagerness never ended well, but it showed enough to make it clear that he did, he really wanted to go, “Maybe… one night wouldn’t hurt?”
One night. Eurion would allow himself one night, just this once. If anything went wrong he wouldn’t let himself live it down, but for now, he would give himself that much. It was also difficult to say no to a prince, a prince that was looking at him softer than anyone had ever given Eurion and holding him in such a way that made him want to melt.
It wasn't hard to see that Eurion wanted to argue. His expression practically screamed it, and the prince had the mind to consider letting go and letting the topic die right there. He knew it was a risk to detour without real reason besides some time to relax. And he also knew that Eurion, ultimately, was the only one to truly know the extent of the Gods' wrath. Sláine could be wrong, and they wouldn't take the bait to his declaration of their cowardice. They might strike the assassin down the moment the group stepped a single foot off course, angry that they were being made to wait, and the prince might not be able to protect him in time.
Ask the Middle, his thoughts whispered, ask the drōg to bless him. Sláine batted those thoughts away.
He didn't think that Eurion would say yes, but he saw the moment the assassin was worn down by the slightest shift in expression. How the man looked him up and down and submitted to the prince's hold, and the bubbling eagerness starting to shine through. Sláine grinned as if he won some sort of prize. "One night it is." One night of revel before they set off properly to uncover the schemes of the Gods and the purpose Aideen must have connected to them. One night of drinking and food and Fae delights. His joy cracked for a split second, though, as his eyes left Eurion's.
Sláine felt the shift before it appeared. He moved to block the assassin just as an object flew through the wall, similarly to how the chicken had appeared in the dead of the night, and let go of his face to swat at it before it hit either one of them. It was a pillow, seen as it bounced harmlessly to the floor after the prince's counter. "I'm going to fucking kill him," Sláine muttered, just as laughter identical to his voice filtered through the walls. Relaxing back down to the mattress, he looked back to Eurion with a heavy sigh, the arm still around the assassin's waist holding him firmly in place. "Should've let you go through him."
Eurion was ready to tell Sláine to take that grin off his face because it really wasn't that big a deal, but then he was moving before he could speak and batting away a pillow the assassin hadn't seen coming. He hadn't felt the shift in the magic due to the fact that his own abilities weren't as strong, and the prince knew his brother so it was easier to expect what may have been coming before it arrived. He wouldn't lie and say that it hadn't shocked him, but he didn't show it, and if he did it had only been for a brief moment.
Even if he wanted to move he couldn't considering the prince still had him pressed firmly against his side. He really didn't want to move, but now that their peaceful bubble had been interrupted, they weren't going to have much time left to enjoy their cuddling, "Suppose that means we're going to have to get up now…" He mumbled. He ignored the comment Sláine made about letting Eurion go through him. It hadn't even been the twin that had stopped him from killing the brother, it had been the witch - Aideen, apparently- who had stopped him. Sláine had just rocked up at a later point.
Eurion didn't stop himself from feeling the twinge of disappointment that flooded his senses at the idea that he would have to move away from the prince. He wanted to ignore it. He wanted to pretend that he didn't want the warmth and comfort he provided, his hands around his waist and on his cheek and chin. It would be better for the both of them if they never spoke or touched or got this close again, but he wouldn't deny how good it felt to have been tucked into the prince's chest and knowing that someone was there to hold him, protect him, comfort him. Something about how they fit together was right, even if he didn't want to admit it.
Sláine made a noise of disgust at the thought of getting up. He always hated the process of mentally saying goodbye to his bed, his comfort zone, and resigning himself to inns and the earthen floor. But this time, he hated what it meant. Leaving Eurion, the quiet and cuddly Fae terrified of the Gods, and once again facing his assassin. The prince wouldn't be able to just grab onto the man whenever it seemed like Eurion needed it, or fold him into his arms in the dead of night. He wouldn't be able to have the privilege of being looked at the way the assassin had done so earlier. It was shitty, but such was life. Connections never lasted long in the grand scheme of things, no matter how much you wanted things to stay the same.
Still. One last indulgence. Maybe he would be able to get Eurion's mind off of the Gods for even just a short while.
The prince had a spark of mischief in his eyes right before he moved again—except this time, it was to roll on top of Eurion. He held himself up off of the man, of course, but his grin was back with a flash of his canines. "Bit of free advice: brace yourself now while you can. We're a bit of a handful." Probably why his cousin didn't care that they were leaving. A bit of quiet within the palace would do the king some good, especially with how the nobles weren't happy with him being the ruler rather than one of the twins. Sláine knew he was tolerable enough right now, if a bit excited for the festival and putting it on to distract Eurion, but he was self-aware enough to know that he got worse in the presence of his brother. And Aideen would make it her mission to piss off the assassin at least once a day.
Eurion huffed, now trapped between the bed and the prince. That would be the second time now within the last few hours that he’d been squished by a total stranger, at least this time it wasn’t on the floor- or by complete surprise, which made it tolerable. Considering it was also Sláine who was turning out to be a lot better to be around than he had thought, it was probably why he didn’t immediately push him off and flip them around. He was bigger, he could if he wanted to, and he was tempted if only to prove that he wasn’t a scared piece of shit that needed coddling, but he held off for the time being.
“I can already tell you’re all going to be insufferable.” Mainly Aideen. The way she had smiled and had that cocky look on her face yesterday told Eurion all he needed to know about the witch. She was going to be the pain in his ass the whole trip and it would take a good amount of patience and self control to not bite her ear off or cut her tongue out in the end. He doubted Caoimhe would appreciate if the assassin hurt his lover. He also figured that if he found out his brother and the assassin had been holding each other like long time lovers, that wouldn’t go down well, either.
Lifting his hands up he placed them on Sláine’s chest and pushed, flipping them back the other way until Eurion was on top and practically straddling the prince, “You especially.” The barest hint of a smile graced his lips to indicate he was joking, if only to try and return the playfulness the other had given him. As much as he wasn’t versed in all… this, he would still try for both their sakes rather than being a brute. To the other two well, Eurion hadn’t made it that far in deciding if the curtesy would extend to them. Probably not anytime soon.
