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

Started March 15, 2023 by @ElderGod-kirky group

tune

Eurion was quick to tuck all his weapons back into their respective places, almost breathing a sigh of relief at the added weight. He made sure they were all accounted for and kept the extra from Sláine tucked into the make shift belt wrapped around his middle. Not exactly the best placement, and it would take a while to get used to the new feeling and weight of the knife, but if he was uncomfortable it didn’t show.

When Sláine addressed him, he looked up from where he was crouched and tucking one of his final daggers into the inside of his boot, “Horses will only take us so far, so, unless you’re fond of the things then I wouldn’t bother.”

The terrain into the Fae lands was a journey that even Eurion didn’t like, and only ever made if he had to. He applauded the Fae for the meticulous design and decision to settle in one of the hardest places to get to, but getting in and out was a pain in the ass, even for him. As a child he wouldn’t have even dared ventured further than the forests surrounding the main settlement. The trees as tall as Gods that canopied across the city were gorgeous, and voided the prefect cover for a hide away, but housed far too many beasts for his liking. The added rocky and touch terrain didn’t help.

They’d been a time where in his early days of leaving and returning to the city he had taken a horse on a return trip, but ended up having to let the beast free and walking the rest of the way. The trip was hard enough on foot, adding a horse into the mix meant slowing down, finding alternate roots that weren’t difficult to cross, and there weren’t many, if any, of those into his homelands. Secluded bastards the Fae were. Eurion knew that the princes and the guard were talented, he could tell, but even he doubted how quickly they would be able to cross the terrain considering he didn’t even like it.

Caoimhe grabbed his scythe and strapped it to his back, his own traveling gear slung over a shoulder. "Walking it is, then. I don't think the stable hands would be too pleased with us abandoning their pride and joys for a jaunt into the Fae lands." He flashed his twin a toothy grin and rolled his shoulders. "Just like old times, eh? Gonna bitch about the rain this time?"

Sláine angled his head with a small smirk on his face. "I think I'll stick to pushing you into a river."

It didn't take long for the two to get into a heated bickering match, which in turn made it incomprehensible the moment their accents flipped from pretty and fluid to thick and slurring, syllables blending into one another until they overlapped. Aideen rubbed a thumb between her eyes and gave them a moment, before walking between the two, grabbing a horn from each, and yanking them down. The twins hissed in identical outrage, their heads and bodies bent down uncomfortably to avoid a struggle. Aideen looked unsympathetic to their plight.

"Now who's delaying?" she mocked Caoimhe, then shoved them both away. "Speaking of conspicuousness, you two need to mask."

Sláine had instantly skirted around her towards Eurion once he was released, rubbing his horns where she had grabbed him. He frowned towards her and narrowed his eyes. "Why?" Masking was an uncomfortable, but handy ability his family had. They could warp the reality of a person's appearance, make them look less witch-like and blend in more easily if need be. But the problem was that it was just a perception of reality that was being changed, so to them, they could still feel the things they were hiding, in a sense. It felt as though someone was taking that part of them and smashing it down out of sight, but still there. After a while, aches would form in those spots if they didn't let up the mask.

Aideen gestured to Caoimhe's horns, where he was keeping his head angled upwards to avoid getting grabbed again. "Do you really think we won't catch the attention of people when we've got two horned giants strutting about? Teeth, too, if you want to go for good measure."

Eurion, now standing with his arms crossed, watched the three interact and probably would have chuckled had he not been in thought while doing so. He would admit, it was slightly humorous to see how Aideen treated the princes. He wondered how long she’d been in their lives for if they’d reached this level of friendship between all of them. Not anyone would just be able to grab the princes by their horns, but Aideen wasn’t exactly a normal person to begin with, so.

The assassin shifted on his feet when Sláine stood by him, if only to be slightly closer however the way he moved looked more like he was simply readjusting his stance than wanting to be close to the prince, “If it’s that much of an issue I can meet you on the outskirts of the city.” He looked between the two princes. He doubted they’d agree, mainly Caoimhe and Aideen, in case Eurion decided to make a run for it. But he wasn’t a coward, and it didn’t back out of deals after they’d been made no matter how things went, the reason why he was still working for the Gods after all these years even after all their torment.

Either way, as much as Aideen wanted to find them, the message that they had sent Eurion last night weighed on his mind. If he had wanted to make a run for it, he couldn’t, because the Gods had spoken and now there really was no backing out. He knew what they’d do if he didn’t obey, and he would try and avoid that at all costs, which meant sticking with the newfound trio and figuring out what the fuck was going on. He was more afraid of what they’d do then he let on, even to Sláine, “I’ll just grab my shit and meet you- that why you don’t have to mask.” And they wouldn’t have to do so for a while before they made it to the Fae realm.

Sláine's attention was mostly on Aideen, and the tenderness he was still massaging, but Eurion shifting ever so discreetly towards him took up just enough of his mind's eye that he focused on it. So things were still salvageable. The moody assassin wasn't completely back, he still had some semblance of a connection left to the prince. Sláine shouldn't have been so worried about such a little thing, something as simple as a shift in stance, but subtlety was an assassin's entire world. He couldn't help but read into the move. And as Aideen gave the man her eerie undivided attention, the prince had no choice but to seek out the small things.

The guard pointed a finger at Eurion, and somehow she managed to make the act itself argumentative. Anyone would think it was because of the very reason Eurion thought she'd argue, but it turned out to be something else entirely. "No, because that's not the issue here."

The prince's sigh was heavy, and he resigned himself to a mildly uncomfortable trip. "She means for the entire thing. If we're spotted at any point, these," Sláine gestured to his horns, and finally let them be by crossing his arms, "would be a dead giveaway that something is up."

Caoimhe pouted where he stood, and Aideen comforted him by being in his bubble—a trait both brothers apparently shared. She pointed over to the twin when he finally understood her reasoning. "Exactly. And, if there are any other witch hunters out there, then you two are glaring targets. I don't give a shit about our own territory, these two mingle all the time. It's outside our walls that has me worried. Mutations are the number one signal that a witch is powerful. The more abnormal, the more magic. The more magic, the bigger the prize if you take 'em down." She waved a hand around her face, indicating her odd eyes and colorful hair. "I'm harder to notice unless you have a thing against colored hair."

Her job was to protect the first prince, but sometimes she extended that to the twin. If someone like Eurion was being sent out to specifically kill High Witches, then there was a high chance of witch hunters on the prowl. Either prompted by the Gods, or emboldened by the work done by Eurion. They had always been a nasty plague to witches, and a big reason that most people moved to Draíochta Síoraí. She refused to let her best friends and princes get caught up in them for something as stupid as horns—the only thing they were good for anyway was manhandling.

Eurion’s eyes narrowed for a moment at the guard, but she had a point. Being less than knowledgeable when it came to magic and witchcraft was going to be his downfall one day and probably bite him in the butt on this trip on more than one occasion

As much as he knew the Gods wouldn’t send anyone else after the princes, that didn’t mean there were others out there who weren’t looking for a catch like them, and if it was one thing he knew, it was assassins. There were plenty out there even if they didn’t make themselves known. Most suck to certain territories and so they didn’t cross paths, others only had a certain type of person or mission they under took, none were stupid enough to go after royalty in their own homes- unlike Eurion- but they were there.

The Fae were also not welcoming to outsiders, and the horns were a dead give away. It would be a problem for the festival, especially if they were going to go and drink because, as much as figured the princes were able to control their magic, it was sure to get hard after some strong booze, “We’ll just have to make sure we stop at an inn most nights so you don’t have to keep the changes on all the time.”

Eurion let his gaze swap between Aideen to Sláine. His promises from earlier about finding an inn shone ever so subtly when he looked at the prince, but was gone the moment he turned away as if nothing had happened. His cold demeanour may have returned, and his scowl was hard to loose, but even his dark eyes could show the slightest change, if only for a second, “We should get going.”

Aideen had expected a bigger fight, perhaps a bit of pushback on her caution. Plenty of the younger knights tended to question her authority on things and called her overly cautious. Had they been there, they would've scoffed at her concern over the princes being spotted and made a target. But Eurion didn't argue with her. He looked contemplative, like he was considering her reasoning and putting it into perspective. She gave him begrudging points for that, but still wouldn't keep him completely off the hook for his earlier stunt.

Sláine ducked his head a little when the inn was mentioned, catching the assassin's quick look and knowing instantly what he was hinting towards. But his brother was none the wiser as he heaved a dramatic sigh. "Aye, we should." His gaze cut over to his guard, and she stuck her tongue out because she knew what was coming. "See? At least someone has some respect for our torture. Bugger hasn't even known us for more than a few hours."

Aideen shrugged him off with a sly smile, and just adjusted her cloak where it wrapped around her shoulders. The brothers exchanged identical grimaces and cast their magic out. A shimmering and slightly translucent layer of magic settled around their horns and jaws, and the sight of their horns slowly blurred out of sight until they were no longer visible. If one looked extremely closely, they could see the light catching on something, but otherwise it was as if nothing was there. When Sláine opened his mouth to poke his tongue at his lower canines, they has shrunk to a normal size, and the gap they typically filled between the top teeth was replaced by another tooth. He caught himself in the mirror and scrunched his face in annoyance. Caoimhe whined about the discomfort to Aideen, and she dutifully cooed at him for a few seconds.

The lovers exited the room first, and Sláine cast Eurion a mixed expression. "Let's go. What inn did you have a room in?"

Eurion didn't look at Sláine when he replied, his eyes were fixed on the end of the hall and his voice was flat as it had been the night before. In all honesty, he didn't actually know the way out of the castle since he'd climbed in through the window, and everything was different on the inside. He'd lost his bearings pretty easily, and so, he didn't rush ahead of the prince, he kept maybe just one step behind as he let the other lead them through the maze of halls.

"The Wolf's Shed." It was a small place, tucked away on a side street that looked far too sketchy for its own good, but maybe that was why he liked the place. Whenever he visited, or came to work, it was usually the place he stayed at. The owner knew him by name, the regulars by his alias, and they were the closest he had ever come to having real friends. Of course, he didn't see them often enough to remain friends, but whenever he stopped by they always had a room and let him brood in his usual corner with no questions asked. It also helped that, on the occasional times when he had a couple of extra coins to spare, had given the gold out as if it hadn't been earned by killing someone.

Not that the people there cared, they were mostly criminals, albeit low levels ones. Thieves, con men, the lot. Eurion fit right in with the crowd when his presence was known to the people there, and it was why he kept going back. Probably not the smartest thing to do, considering his line of work, but it was one of those subtle things that he did in order to keep his sanity after all these years.

The assassin flipped his cape over his head, although he didn't cover his lower half as he usually would, keeping the fabric hanging loose over his head but covering his ears, and the shadows the fabric cast over his face helped when it came to hiding, but not when it came to making him look any less threatening, "Near the outskirts of the city."

The palace was built with safety in mind, which meant that it was purposefully built to be winding and confusing, with multiple ways to get to some places and only one strict way to get to others. Seeing as the princes grew up there, they had non problem navigating the hallways, though they stuck to the places that had the least amount of foot traffic to avoid questions.

"Oh, I know it." Sláine resisted the urge to duck through any of the doorways they had to go through on their way out of the palace. His scalp still had a phantom weight on his head, with just the slightest bit of pressure against his skin where the base of his horns would be. As they walked, the prince tied up half his hair into a messy bun at the base of his skull, with the rest remaining loose. Wispy strands fell down his face, joining the chunks that fell immediately out of the bun. Caoimhe didn't do anything with his hair, but once they were on their way, he would likely put it into a braid.

Sláine knowing the inn didn't necessarily mean he was a regular. He had stopped by a few times, but despite having a decently known thief at his side, as Aideen had hit the ground thieving the moment she made it to the city, his presence wasn't ever well received. He didn't blame any of the people there, as they were criminals and he was one of the symbols for the authority they went against, so he didn't swing by very frequently.

The further the small party went, the more the scent of food filtered through the air. Sláine perked up just as Caoimhe shot a mischievous smirk over his shoulder. In the distance, behind a door that swung both ways, they could hear a man shouting in Gaelic, though his accent didn't match the princes'. Pots and pans clattered about, water splashed, and the rapid thunk of a knife cut through the still morning air. The kitchens were always up and about, attuned to the many people living in the palace and their habits of eating at random intervals. The four of them would be stopping there to grab a bite, but also because it had a direct exit to the city that was convenient for them.

The smell of good food reminded Eurion just how hungry he was. Having only eaten little before he had set out last night and was becoming painfully aware of the lack of food in his system, as well as the quiet gurgling that his body was making that only alerted him more to the feeling. He had planned on having a meal back at the inn, he'd even asked they save him some food for when he returned. He had a feeling that they would be less than pleased that they had left food out overnight only for the assassin to disappear and not return. It wasn't like him to ask and then fuck off, especially not without his things but either way, the calibre of people who visited and worked there wasn't exactly the best.

Although his face showed nothing but annoyance, Eurion was internally gawking at the decorative nature of the palace. He felt extremely out of place with all the jewels and gold adorning ribbons and places that definitely did not need the extra touch, the paintings that had no doubt taken months to perfect that hung on the walls. How old was the furniture that lined the halls? It was grand, far too beautiful for an assassin.

He didn't belong in his world, he never would. As much as his time with Sláine overnight and in the morning had been a beautiful bubble that he had wished lasted longer, walking through the palace, seeing how the princes were so accustomed to the layout, the rules, it put a degree of separation between him and Sláine.

Out in his world, none of this mattered. The only thing that did was whether or not you could chug a pint the fastest out of all the people at the bar and how unscathed you came out of a fight. The inn Eurion had grown accustomed to certainly put it into perspective since it was on the lower end of hospitality all things considered. A subtle reminder of his place in all this. Yes, Eurion was a messenger for the Gods, chosen to do 'great things' but he was a killer with or without the Gods around, and it didn't phase him who he killed, how much they begged or whatever life they may have had before he came long. That wasn't going to change overnight.

Aideen shoved her way through the doors with far too much flair than necessary, but there was a chorus of friendly jeers and cheers from the kitchen staff. Sláine snagged Eurion's sleeve to pull him over just as a bushel of legumes was thrown in their direction, then weaved on through the hustle and bustle to bother one of the female cooks. She was shorter than him, and stout, with a face steamed red from the cooking food and an apron permanently stained from a career in cooking. She swatted at the prince when he came up behind her, and he only grinned and swooped down to plant a kiss to the side of her head. Caoimhe danced around stealing food from other cooks, and got playfully jabbed in the side from one of the scurrying servants holding platters and utensils for the cooks.

The cook Sláine was harassing batted at him with a spoon to get him out of her space. "You boys will be the death of me, I swear. Go on, get your fill. I don't want to see you come back even thinner." She frowned down at Sláine's stomach and tsked. "You just got back, and you're still too thin. I don't like it. Eat, for my sanity."

The prince grinned and kissed her temple once more while reaching for a bread roll. "Yes, Mama. I'll do my best to keep myself fed enough to your standards."

Mama huffed and poured containers of stew, adding a fourth when she spotted Eurion. "If you were my kid, you'd always be fed instead of constantly out and about. I thought these trips ended when Seiger was overthrown. Is your cousin responsible for this?"

Caoimhe swooped in to snag some more bread rolls, and tossed two at Aideen, who handed one to Eurion. "His Majesty has nothing to do with this. What's wrong with a little outing?"

Another cook barked a laugh from the freezer, and the young man popped his head out to hook an arm over the door and raise a skeptical brow at the older twin. "Outing? You lot are dressed for dirt." When he spotted Eurion amongst the chaos of the kitchen, he didn't think anything of it and gestured around with a flick of his fingers, addressing them all. "Have your fill. We'll make sure to make less while you're gone. Probably half." Aideen snorted a laugh when Caoimhe protested at the accusation and started her own raid, albeit a bit more mild compared to the princes. They easily slipped through people and helped with aiding the cooks when close enough.

Eurion wasn't used to just being able to take whatever it was that he wanted, well, not without fear of getting caught, that was, and either way, usually he had to hunt for his own food when on the road if an inn wasn't close enough. The bustle of the kitchen was probably more overwhelming than it should have been.

He was the most conservative out of the lot when it came to taking some of the food that was being prepared. He even felt a little bad considering that half of the stuff was just being prepared and the group had swooped in and taken more than was necessary. Well, the princes had, at least, and Eurion didn't doubt this was a regular occurrence in the palace.

Either way, he didn't have enough hands to be able to hold more than a few pieces of fruit since the others were taken up by the small handful of clothes he'd taken from Sláine, and the book that he now had tucked under his arm for better protection. Since he didn't have his bag on him it was difficult to take more than that, and he was too stubborn to ask for help anyone else, even Sláine. Not that it mattered entirely, he still had a few bits and pieces back at the inn from his journey into the city. One could never be too conservative when it came to how much they ate on the road, especially when there wasn't an abundance of food to start with. Might have been what started the assassin skipping meals but the habit was fading as he got older- mostly.

Little did Eurion know, Sláine had grabbed a small bit of extra for the assassin and tucked it all into the food sack inside his travel bag. The princes did their rounds teasing and getting teased by the kitchen staff, which was their way of sending the brothers off whenever they left for an undetermined amount of time. No one asked questions or batted an eye at the extra person, trusting in the two—and Aideen, no matter her newness to the royal retinue. She bid Mama farewell once she tucked some food into her bag, rounded the twins up, and urged Eurion to follow as they got herded towards the exit.

Because the kitchen needed direct access to the city for deliveries, it was the quickest way to leave, and was relatively hidden to protect said deliveries from desperate thieves and miscreants. Sláine and Caoimhe hung back as the guard marched her way forward, and the younger prince hesitated a little longer to stay near Eurion. To the others, it might've been an act to keep an eye on the assassin, but he had purely personal reasons for silently volunteering himself to Eurion's side.

"Wolf's Shed," he said, and Aideen glanced back at him. Sláine tilted his head towards Eurion. "We're headed to the Wolf's Shed to get his things, and then we go. I imagine you know the place."

The smile the guard flashed was half a grimace, half amusement. "That I do. I can't tell if they'll be interested in seeing me again, or just as likely to toss me out as they will you two. Maybe they'll be too curious to get the gossip on the kingdom's newest royal twins. I'm sure I have plenty of stories to feed them."

Sláine crossed his arms and let a smile curl at his lips. "Make sure to include my brother's biting kink."

"Oh, fuck you," Caoimhe snarled. Aideen cackled and poked him in the throat, right where she still bore one of his bites. Once she started in on all the gossip she could spread about him, Sláine snickered to himself at a job well done. It was easy to get those two distracted with one another; the moment you got them bickering, they would harass each other endlessly. And, as he was unable to help himself, the prince glanced up at Eurion.

"I don't think they could give two shits about gossip." Euroin added, letting his gaze flick from Aideen to Sláine when he felt the other looking at him.

He had no doubt that Ren, the owner, the man who had a scowl just as permanent as Eurion's, could care less about the royals. He had always been the first to bitch about whatever new law was put into place that he even had the slightest disagreement with. Politics. The assassin tried not to make a face of disgust at the thought. Boring and far too complicated for him. Fae politics were one thing, Witch politics were another.

It was a relief to be out of the kitchen, and Eurion let his shoulders drop ever so slightly now that the business of the kitchens were behind them. The streets were a different thing. He knew them inside and out just as he could recognize which knife was which depending on weight. It was where he worked best and could blend in without fear of someone saying something to him. With his stature and race, it was easy to tell he wasn't a regular around these streets, but he had mastered the art of blending in enough that it didn't matter as much these days.

Although, it didn't help when you were walking along the cobbled roads with two princes and their personal guard.

"Shh, let me have my fun." Sláine didn't care if the owner or the people at the inn wanted gossip, or what was said about him in general. Plenty had gone around during his lifetime, and being in the public eye as long as he had wore one down when it came to keeping secrets or avoiding scrutiny. Scandals, rumors, blatant but whisper-worthy lies, even private encounters were bound to be found out about and spread like wildfire.

The more he thought about it, the more curious he got about Eurion. When had he stumbled upon Draíochta Síoraí? What era of rule? After his cousin came into power, which was just a few years ago, or before then? "Question," he said out of the blue. The prince couldn't keep his thoughts to himself. "Who was king when you first got here, Azriel—or, I guess the people know him as Anndrais—or Seiger?"

Sláine hoped it was the former. Azriel was young, and got stuck with the short stick and had to clean up years worth of political and legislative messes laid down by the previous ruler, so his influence on the kingdom was very little besides his reputation as King of Beasts. But he was a gentle soul beneath his reputation, and the nobles trying to scorn his name and rip him off the throne for being unable to be easily controlled and manipulated. Seiger… the prince's eyes shuttered at just the thought of that man. For the sake of the assassin beside him, he hoped Seiger had been just a name. A passing bunch of syllables with just a ghost of a presence. The trouble Eurion would've run into would've been far worse had it been him on the throne.