Glimpsing at Cas' smile had Hylas looking away, quietly surprised at his show of patience. A part of him had been expecting an eyeroll or shrug. Moments passed by in comfortable silence, the only sounds of insects and crackling logs between them as Hylas stirred the soup and Cas watched the fire. As it simmered, the savoury aroma of their meal billowed in curls of thick steam. Throwing the final ingredients of mushrooms and herbs, Hylas turned to Cas. "It's…ready," He said, trying to hide his excitement and already forgetting their past conversation, "Go get a few bowls from the chest. Spoons. Don't forget those." With a final stir, he lifted the soup onto the counter to cool and darted off to drag the frail table and chairs closer together. He chewed his lip in thought, looking over the room in flickering glances and trying to understand what was missing. Hunger drove his impatience and a gentle frown crossed his expression. "Oh, Hylas softly gasped, darting around the dividing wall to snatch the last of the wrapped Stelre loaf and place in on their wobbly dining table. He would've never forgiven himself if he had soup with Stelre waiting uneaten. Slowly, he took a burning candle from its home on a shelf and carried it to the table, cupping his hand to shield it from the wind. "Finally."
The smell that filled the room made Cas' mouth water. All the herbs and vegetables mixed together to produce a soup that he knew tasted even better than the smell. Nodding, Cas was quick to head over to the chest Hylas had referred to, rummaging through to find the dusted filled bowls. He was surprised there weren't any dead insects lying at the bottom He blew away the dust, wiping away any that referred to budge before scooping up the two spoons lying in the chest. The smell of the food, even the sight of the large pot, had his stomach aching to get a mouthful, "It smells so good." He commented, placing the bowls and spoons in their perspective places on the unstable table. He couldn't wait to get a mouthful of the delicious soup. The hot steam fogged up the dirty glass windows surrounding them, heating up the room further with the work on the fire. Toasty, comforting, in a way, too. He took a seat across from Hylas, making sure not to knock either the candles or the pot of soup. He breathed in deeply, savouring the smell that dinner possessed before it was soon to be devoured by the two of them, both equally as hungry to dig into their meal.
Hylas sighed, running his hands through his hair before settling down on the creaky chair across from the prince. "Thyrr Atlea, meet Cas. Cas, meet Thyrr Atlea," He said with a soft chuckle, smiling as his gaze flickered from the prince to their bowls of soup, "Not the dizzying delicacies of the royal halls. Just comforting, I'd say." The warm bowl of soup, however plain-looking and common, felt wonderous in his hands. Wavy curls of long atel-sprout mushrooms, cuts of beef, softened root vegetables and shaved earthnuts swam in a rich, salty broth. It was a dish he could actually remember from his childhood. He could remember the three books and cushion that raised him up to the table's height, and how he still reached for his food with careful, extended arms; small, shaky hands balancing the journeys of spoonfuls. He could remember the time he burnt his tongue when the soup hadn't cooled enough; how he'd cried and how his mother had given him a spoon of sugar to soothe the burn. That pain and delight was a golden mist of memory now, and he knew he had break away from its warm embrace. Realizing the foolish smile on his face, he came to his senses and recentered his attention on his meal. "Oh. Um. Let's eat." He broke off a thick corner of the Stelre loaf and handed it to Cas, doing the same for himself.
"Might not look as good as the food at the palace, but it smells better than anything there." Cas took the chunk of bread gladly, tearing off a small piece to dip into the broth. He wasn't lying, either. The grand tables filled with fresh fruits and cakes five layers high decorated with the sweetest berries and candies didn't even compare to how good the soup smelled. Homemade cooking that came from a place of gratitude always tasted better. Cas had always preferred his mothers cooking to the cooks his father paid. On the rare occasion, the family went away when he was a child, Cas recalled the nights filled with helping his mother chop vegetables and stir whatever was cooking in the pot. The way he stood on a stool before the counter while his brothers and father cooked the meat, Cas helping his mother with the bread, vegetables and soups. Times before he grew up. Those moments became few and far between as the years went on. Work keeping the family away during the day with no time, nor energy for anyone to cook for the evening, and after the war… Cas hoped that if he survived the next, maybe he would be lucky enough to start a family of his own and make the same memories. The food did indeed taste better than it smelt, and Cad couldn't keep himself from digging in to the delicious soup.
Hylas hummed, smiling as he ate and imagined the wonders of a royal dining table; how dangling chandeliers of crystal and firelight might turn steaming platters of roast and cloud-soft white cakes a harsh golden. A soft realization dawned on Hylas as he watched the prince eat and speak. In all his past replies, the prince couldn't seem to make connections to things outside of his royal life; the war, his family, and his responsibilities as the heir. There was always an immediate comparison that ended in a wistful disappointment of varying undertones. "Do you like it at the palace?" Hylas asked without thinking, his smile dropping as he scrambled to recover his words, silently grateful that he hadn't included 'even' in his question. That would be a sure way to stir him up. "—I mean…The meals. But you don't have to answer that, I was, I was just curious and—" He shrugged, burying his focus in the warm curve of his bowl, eating to do something with his hands. Most of his excuse was the truth. Hylas was painfully curious when it came to the green-eyed stranger in his kitchen, and he did want to hear more about his life. It seemed an impossible world to him. Full stomachs, plush beds, not a day of pain, and any means of comfort and service one could wish for; all there just waiting for him, in every single moment of every single day. Hylas liked to think he was beyond jealousy, and unknowingly, he was. He was at a point where any thought of painless existence in the future was a void of blackness or a sharp, sparkling image of full colour. But both fantasies always ended with ache. "I told you I always imagine it as a perfect thing. Servants fanning you and feeding you grapes; I joked of something like that," He shrugged, daring to slip out his innocent observation, "So I…find it of interest how you like to find the faults in luxury. Being a prince and all."
Cas damn near went red at the question. In fact, he felt heat rise to his cheeks and in a very poor attempt to hide it, reached up to scratch at his nose, "I- no I- of course I like the palace and the meals," He swallowed, trying to form a coherent sentence. He had everything anyone could ever dream of. He didn't have to worry about when his next meal was, whether or not he would have a roof over his head for the evening. His life was perfect. At least to anyone else but him. Cas knew he was selfish for wishing for a quiet life, for wanting anything else other than royal life. He had no reason to complain, to seem so disappointed with the life he was granted, "I suppose it just seems… superficial, at times. When everything is done for you or you don't experience those candid moment with friends or family," He shrugged, taking another bite of bread, "It's hard to not find the faults." Cas craved to relive the moments when he was young and there was no pressure on any of his brothers to hold up to the expectations of royalty. To spend the days in the sun laughing without needing to present a certain way. As they grew older, those moments were few and far between, and then they were taken from him in a blink of an eye. Royal life called them away, and then the war, "I have no right to complain," He continued, "And I know that. But.. everything becomes so complicated, and to have your dream life be taken from you, to have responsibilities thrown on you with no preparation, it's hard to not compare what life could have been like, what you wanted it to be like and knowing you can't have it. I love what I do, but at the same time…" He trailed off, shaking his head, "Sorry." For the long winded answer and for whining about life when, compared to Hylas' Cas' was perfect.
Hylas watched the prince with careful curiosity, noting how his gaze bounced around as he spoke. There was a flow to his words and mannerisms— a kind of memorized expression of thoughts that wasn't at all like that of a speech— but rather, a summarized telling of something hidden and laced with sentimental frustration. He wanted to rid himself of the feeling; the frustration, whatever it was. Hylas received the words with a soft nod, almost smiling with the quiet knowledge of the prince's royal disdain. "You haven't…wronged me by filling the silence. Or speaking truthfully," He breathed, looking down as he gently stirred his Thyrr Atlea. Saying that Cas pleased him with his talking would have been too…bold, but Hylas imagined and quietly hoped that his light tone had carried the feeling. "Maybe I understand. You have the world at your fingertips, but no time for the world." Everything, but not a moment for something. Hylas had seen the world, but at what cost? The lives of others, and the sanity of himself. "In any case, if an assassin can have the freedom to hate what he does, so can a prince." With thoughts of Cas' simmering frustration towards his duties, Hylas chewed a thoughtful bite of bread. Ballrooms swelling with sound and colour, sharp voices echoing in proclamation, blurred vision, disordered desks and beds still made, whispers and handshakes and endless thoughts spiralling into endless nights.
Cas' shoulders seemed to drop slightly, relief maybe, from being able to voice his pent up frustrations and hidden feelings, or maybe from knowing that he was being heard, and not in the way he was used to, and liked it, "Yes, you're quite right." Never any time for anything and yet too much empty time and space to fill. Busy and surrounded by everyone and still feeling bored and alone, "Difference is, you can chose to stop at anytime, I cannot." Who would then take the throne? Rule over Eirus, govern in a way that people liked, have the best interests of the people at heart and not just rule for the money or the power it brought? Cas wouldn't hand over the title, not until he died. As much as he longed to get away from it all, to have nothing to worry about on behalf of thousands, he could not denounce his title. The kingdom would be throne into chaos, his father would certainly not approve and in his old age, couldn't have another heir. None of the royal court were fit to rule. From long, meaningless conversations with them all, none truly grasped the weight being king held, most just thought of money and social status, not the people they would rule. It left a dry taste in his mouth to think that someone like that would rule and ruin his beloved kingdom. Those feelings would never be voiced. Not even to his father nor his most trusted friends. No one could know he had thought about leaving. Running. You'd be running away.
Hylas surprised himself with the breathy scoff that escaped him. The prince's words proved his theory. As it stood, the prince was unable to hold a thought without comparing it to something brighter or bleaker. No matter what Hylas told him about himself, Cas would always try to find a way to stitch his own awe or disappointment into the discussion. This time, he had mistaken Hylas' work as something he could give up; nothing like the terrible task of sitting plump and pampered after a hard, exhausting day of talking and smiling, no. Hylas tried not to frown, knowing that the prince knew nothing of what being an assassin was like, and that patience is what normal folk hailed for. Me? Choose to stop? Oh, so simple. Just like that! He put down his spoon, leaning back in the chair with a muffled creak while his gaze; lowered and unfocused seemed to burn into Cas. "I want you to think hard about what you just said," Hylas told him, letting his quiet words settle in the warm silence. His claim— that Hylas' life as an assassin was something escapable —hurt him in a way he couldn't explain. It seemed to imply that every day, he chose this life, over and over, and that if he had something— the willpower, a decent set of morals, or even the time of day, he could find it in himself to stop the killing. Did he think that Hylas enjoyed this? Hylas thought the prince's empathy came from a place of early understanding. All the tiptoeing and careful, kind words had meant something to him; reassuring Hylas that someone, Cas, could see the extremity of his position. "I want you to understand how you're wrong…" He said, unblinking, "But…I don't…owe you an exhibition or an explanation." What good what it do to tell him about the unimaginable; the unspeakable horrors of bringing death to doorsteps? Deep within Hylas' mind was a throbbing frustration so condensed and contained that to even whisper over the valley of his work memories was to strike up a fractal of pain and paranoia. "So. Just…think about what you said."
Cas stopped eating. His heart raced and he wondered if Hylas could hear it. He hadn't thought, hadn't realised the weight of his comment, and now in the tense silence as he reflected back on the stupid, ignorant comment, he did, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek. He knew nothing of what Hylas' life was like, so blindly assumed he could just stop after all these years. A dumb thought of one who knew nothing of the hardships of life, who had had everything handed to him on a silver platter his entire life and was ungrateful. He hadn't had to do or live through what Hylas had done, what he did. Sure, war was terrible, but different to the life the assassin staring so hard into his soul did. The twitch of the frown, the weight that Hylas' eyes held, had Cas holding his spoon just a fraction tighter. The look in his eye, that.. disappointment, sorrow and something deeper than that, had Cas choosing his next words carefully. He had no intention of making an enemy out of Hylas this early in the game, not when he had fed, clothed and offered sanctuary. The striking realisation that Hylas could change his mind at any moment hit him harder than a tone of bricks. Cas wouldn't even make it five steps if he decided to kill him here and now, "I-" He swallowed, looking from the bowl to the heavy gaze Hylas held as he spoke gently and cautiously, "I'm sorry. I know nothing of what your life is like and assumed wrongly. Terribly so." He took a small, steadying breath, "I can't begin to imagine what you've been through, Hylas, and for that, and my words of ignorance, I am sorry." The assassin was a man of many talents, many faces, and many hidden emotions. So many secrets hidden under the surface. Cas might have been a prince, but he was nothing of the sort now. Hylas had no right to forgive him, but Cas hoped that eventually he could.
A series of strange, cloudy emotions passed through Hylas, almost like a ghost had walked into him. "Oh–" He breathed, looking up with quiet surprise. Cas apologized. An honest wave of tension broke and filled the air with a new feeling; something he had never experienced. His gaze flickered up in confusion. Hylas hadn't expected a reply so humble and sincere. At best, he had anticipated silence, a passive "Of course," or a scoffed "Noted." Or perhaps even a challenging rebuttal questioning Hylas' claim before considering it. Politics was a ruthless field, and Hylas knew that to be a good leader, Cas had to— and surely was, sharp with a comeback. But hearing his softened words of apology smacked his projections to the ground, and charged that space with a strange awe. "I didn't mean—" He started, sitting up, "I wasn't…accusing you or anything, I just— I'm sure you understand. I don't know if I wasn't too severe, myself." Had he been too harsh with his past mutterings? Perhaps his tone had let on more pain than he would've been comfortable with consciously sharing, and Cas had felt so ashamed that he had felt actually regretful. Hylas didn't have the words to thank him, forgive him, and apologize himself, but he managed a frown and a smile as he considered the messiness of their whole conversation, and tiredly rubbed his face in mental exhaustion. "I'm sorry," He sighed, "It's the talking. Or maybe just the day that's wearing on me. I don't know." A breathless chuckle left him, and with another sigh, he shook his head and returned to his lukewarm soup, smile gone. "We can forget about it…if you like."
"You have no reason to apologise," Cas replied, the barest hint of a sincere smile gracing his face. He'd been in the wrong and could acknowledge that. Even if Hylas was an assassin, he deserved the same respect anyone else would have if put in the same situation, "It was my fault." The day had been long and draining for both of them. A nights rest would do them both a world of good before tomorrow, "Conversation is hard when you're not used to it, I understand." A subtle way to change the topic and a quiet acknowledgement to put the words behind them. There was sure to be difficult words shared between them at some point, it was never going to be perfect, especially between a prince and his assassin. All Cas could do was try and understand Hylas' views, respect boundaries and acknowledge faults on both their parts. Nothing was going to be easy in the days to come. Words would be spoken that no one didn't truly mean and said out of desperation. Right now, they were both tired and stressed. The future would hold days of restless nights that Cas didn't look forward to. There was no need to make an enemy out of Hylas. Picking up the last piece of his bread, he offered it to the man sitting across the table from him, another silent apology and an offering of peace. He didn't say anything more, not wanting to force Hylas into speaking after expressing his tiredness from the conversation. He'd let him set the line, at least for now, especially for now. Maybe they both needed a little but of quiet understanding tonight before the long day ahead tomorrow.
Hylas glanced at the bread and then to Cas. Sincerity. In his words, in his expression, Hylas could sense the softened regret and thoughtful sentiment breaking through. He opened his mouth to speak, helplessly looking for words to communicate the strange understanding he had reached. A moment of consideration passed, and with a soft sigh, Hylas took the morsel of bread from him and ate it, shaking his head with a lowered gaze. Unbelievable, He thought. A corner of his mouth fought to curl into a smile. Unbelievable how he does that. Thoughtless, empty-headed and charming. For a few silent minutes, they sat in the shadowy candlelight of the room, with Hylas stealing quiet looks of of curiosity and wordless wonder. It all felt so ridiculous, now. Everything said between them had been rebounding shocks of boldness, kindness, and severity. How long have we been awake? How foolish have I been? With their stomachs full and the night growing long, Hylas felt a comfortable drowsiness pushing down the air around them. It was almost a drunken feeling— warm and satisfying without the incoherency of sight and sound. With his head half turning to the chest behind him, Hylas wondered if there was a bottle of wine hidden somewhere. No. Not tonight. —Of course. Not tonight. Not…ever? Hmm. A blush rushed to his cheeks when he realized how foolish he must have looked, sitting and smiling in silence for that long before he abruptly stood up. "Oh– uh. It's late, I suppose," He said with a bashful laugh, turning away and running a hand through his hair as he tried to wake himself up, "We should get some rest. There's uh…a spare bed at the end of the hall. And um, some extra furs in one of the chests." He could feel himself tiredly rambling, wanting to stay alert but dying a little every time he thought of how the warm light curved with Cas' smile when they met eyes over their short dinner, "—The nights aren't cold in…in Valthea. Well, there's a breeze but…that'll hardly be a problem. So…um."
It felt nice to simply just… sit, with Hylas in the newfound silence, to enjoy the last of their meal with a mutual understanding. So different to what Cas was used to but he preferred it, greatly, to the bustling of home. Even if he missed his father, nothing could beat a quiet dinner. The gentle wind that brushed through the small living space rustled Hylas' hair in a way that Cas couldn't ignore, his gaze lingering maybe a fraction longer than it should have. The meal was delicious, leaving Cas ready for a good nights rest. Hylas standing abruptly caught him off guard but he nodded as the other spoke, standing a moment later and pushing his chair under the table once he was done. Might be unnecessary but manners Cas.. "I'm sure the breeze will be nice with the warm night but i’ll find the fur if I need it, thank you.” He once again offered a smile. Thank you for giving me a place to stay, for the parchment, for wanting to help, for not killing me. Picking up a nearby candle from the side, he blocked the flame from the gentle wind, nodding to the doorway, “Shall we? I might get lost in this place if you don’t show me where the room is.” A soft chuckle. He could probably find his way, but a part of him wanted to spent a fraction more time with the assassin. Whether to maybe find out a little about him, or simply because he enjoyed his company. Either way it didn’t matter to Cas. They were both equally as tired, and in need of a nice rest.
"Uh. Yes. I'll show you the way," Hylas nodded, stacking their bowls and thoughtlessly discarding them on the square countertop. In a brief dash around the room, he blew out the candles one by one, until the only star in the inky midnight of the room was the candle in Cas' hand. The sight of the prince's face— almost smiling, painted with a layer of gold and sharp black —struck Hylas like a bite of poison, flooding his veins with a strange, wonderful dread. He cut through the dark towards him, marching right into the table with a wince and an awkward laugh as he walked it off. The soft pain had shaken him out of his momentary transfixion, but as he neared Cas, the same ghostly reverence stirred in his stomach. The sharper edges of his features— all so sharp —pierced the darkness to bathe in the warmth of his lonely candlelight, curving spilled-ink shadows over him and turning his once emerald eyes to a sweet olive hue. This close, Hylas could feel the wavering heat of the flame as it flickered in the shifting air. One inhale, a soft exhale. The little light bent and arched, echoes of its dance playing across Cas' illuminated face. He'd never been so comfortable near someone, holding a gaze with weary ease as the warm Valthean night crept in. "It's just, um…down this way," Hylas said, tearing his gaze from the prince as he pushed open the door, stepping into the hall and holding the door open for him.
The soft smile stayed on Cas' face as he bobbed his head in thanks, moving through the door and making sure not to knock the candle so they could see the path. Hylas looked different in the dark, softer. Maybe it was the tiredness, or maybe he simply felt relaxed enough to drop the frown. The gentle light from the moon danced across the courtyard, casting a pale glow over the assassin which, combined with the soft burnt orange light, had Cas admiring the man quietly, noting the creases under his eyes, the long lashes, the softness of his lips. Cas looked down at the ground to stop the growing thoughts and admirations. He followed behind Hylas through the hall, quietly watching how his shoulders moved as he walked. He didn't seem as.. heavy, compared to before. His steps were lighter, he walked with such precision, meticulously placed steps, but now, there seemed to be less stress than earlier in the day. Being so close to Hylas grew a strange feeling in his chest, a comforting, strange feeling that he hadn't felt in a long time. Even with his past history, standing behind him as they walked tiredly to bed, he knew nothing bad was going to happen tonight. When they arrived at the room, Cas peered through the door before he headed in, placing the candle on the small, worn chair that was situated next to the bed. It lit up the room just enough that he could still see Hylas and his gentle, tired features, "Thank you again, for you know… the meal and the clothes and everything else." He shrugged softly. He meant it, truly. They might have started off on the wrong foot but maybe this wouldn't be an awful stay.
"Oh. Of course. Yes," Hylas replied, nodding as he tried to recall if that was the right way to accept thanks. Yeah, that's probably right. Another silence formed between them as they stared at each other for a moment, and with a sigh, Hylas nodded and took a step towards the door. "Uh— the chest with the furs is under the bed. The sheets might be a little dusty, but the straw mattress is surprisingly comfortable, so…" The muffled sound of insects buzzed outside, and as they stood perfectly still, there were the rolling breaths of wind through the tallgrass whispering through the walls. "Goodnight," Hylas breathed, holding Cas' gaze before slowly slipping back into the hall. The air rushed into his lungs, filling him with an impossible feeling of lightness and relief. The day was over. The prince was alive and well. No one could hurt them. "Gods," Hylas sighed, dragging himself up to another corner of the square-ring hall without the worry of walking into something. He knew this place well enough to venture blindly through the halls, knowing how many steps it took to reach the other bedroom. With only the sleep on his mind, he stumbled into the room, delirious with exhaustion. His hands knew to retrieve the stitched rabbitskin blanket, and his feet knew to shuffle towards the bed. But his mind couldn't steer away from thoughts of Cas and their next steps. Tomorrow…the letter! Hmm…. And break…fast… Morningtime. So much to…fucking do….hmm. Have to wake, and don't forget— what is it? Images and ideas in his mind became a slurry of twisted colours, and could hardly pull the thick fur over himself before slipping off the edge and falling into a heavy rest.
"Goodnight," Cas replied, watching Hylas leave before he turned to the bed. He gently blew out the candle, letting the shadows take over the room. Sleep came nearly as soon as Cas flopped down on the bed. His eyes seemed to have a mind of their own, closing before he could even have a chance to fight to stay awake for even five more minutes. Thoughts of tomorrow's endeavours had no chance to swarm his brain before sleep took over, pulling him into a dreamless slumber he so desperately needed. The night seemed too short. The warmth of the Valthean climate stayed steady through the dark, starry night. By the time morning came, the sun shining through the small window in the bedroom, Cas wanted to stay there for the whole day. Dawn brought the morning bird song, the sweet sounds of the morning and a bright day ahead, one that would be filled with letters and political decrees and words of the incoming war. Cas groaned as the light hit his face, rolling onto his stomach to block the bright light streaming down into his eyes and preventing him from a nice lie-in. Five more minutes, then he'd get up and start work. In the early morning haze, he wondered if Hylas had slept well, thoughts drifting back to last nights meal and conversation and subtle shared looks. He yawned, running a tired hand through the mess of hair that resembled more of a birds nest than anything. Groaning, Cas knew that an extra morsel of sleep wouldn't come now he was awake, instead rolling over and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Wonder if Hylas is up… He thought, standing and stretching out his sore joints.
At the simmering break of dawn, Hylas found himself gasping for breath before his eyes could force themselves open. Another terror had him at his throat, stuffing his lungs with a liquid that cut him with every desperate exhale before he could tear himself from that strange world of blood and shadows. In leaving one dark world, he returned to another. Panting in the new darkness of the little room, Hylas sat up and tried to blink in the sparse light of the rising sun. It was always so hard to tell if he was still dreaming, but after so many years of nightmares, Hylas knew that if nothing happened in under sixty seconds of observation, then he couldn't still be dreaming. The soul was a mysterious thing, and every Valthean knew that the night venture through the mind towards the river of inner knowledge was a feverish, efficient journey. Not a moment would be wasted in the fleeting narrative of dreams, and so the absence of apparitions, impossible beauty, or danger could be known as reality. After his minute, Hylas looked to the filthy window of the cramped room, and spied the illuminated crown of clouds whispering to announce the rise of a new day. Dawn broke early this time of year, and doing a quick calculation, Hylas figured he'd snagged a good five hours. Feeling pleased with himself, he sat up and almost smiled, though in feeling the numb buzzing of a heavy ache in his bones, he let out a gruff sigh and dragged himself out of bed. There would be no attempt at falling asleep again, and he draped the rabbitskin blanket over his shoulders as he slipped on his shoes. Might as well get some work done before His Highness howls for breakfast. "Right," He quietly scoffed, remembering the rest of the story behind his reason for being there. Kidnapping, ugh regret, war approachinng, hurry must tell the world, yes yes yes. Breakfast. He shuffled down the hall with his blanket dusting the floor like a cape, stepping into the joined living-kitchen room with a new, sore supply of energy. He got to work unpacking, dragging out the rest of the hidden chests and filling the few shelves with tools, weapons and equipment. In the bookcase of one far corner of the room, he carefully placed a worn, leather-bound book down, staring at it for a long moment. Next to a few other volumes, it blended into the blackened wood of the bookcase. Unnoticeable? The protective layer cover of black leather had long since wrinkled into a faded grey, with scratches, wrinkles, holes, and burn marks scarring its once-glossy skin. The pages had fattened the look of it up; with some torn, folded, burned, and water-damaged after years of elemental exposure. It's important. I need to bring it with me. If something comes up while i'm out there— for gods knows how long, I'll need it. Hylas stared and then left it there, looking at it once more before returning to clean up last night's mess.
The soft pitter-patter of Cas walking through the broken down monastery was drowned out by the sounds of the early morning. The way the light danced through the broken glass and vines encompassing the windows and pillars holding the place together. Cas was quietly amazed at how the place had stayed standing all these years and not fallen to pieces. In its prime, he was sure the place would have been even more beautiful than the remnants that were left. He wondered if maybe one day Hylas had planes of building the place back up. Highly unlikely, but the amount of love he held for the place Cas wouldn't be surprised if he retired up here. Tucked away, a secret sanctuary. The stone was cold under his bare feet, but from the warm morning air, he didn't mind it. The sun was warm on his cheeks as he ventured through the place and as the prince drew closer, he could hear the soft clinking of cutlery and bowls, Hylas cleaning up from last night. In an attempt to look at least a little presentable, he shook his head to clear out and try and neaten his hair just a fraction, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt before rounding the corner to the living quarters. The sight of Hylas with the blanket draped over his shoulders like a toddler had Cas trying not to laugh, a smile rising to his face. The greatest assassin in the world, the one who had kidnapped and nearly killed him, didn't look so threatening anymore. Leaning against the door frame, for a moment he just watched as he cleaned up, trying to suppress the smile growing on his features, "Need any help there?" He asked after another short moment. Hylas had cooked, Cas knew he should be the one cleaning. It was the least he could do after what Hylas had done for him. There wasn't much to clean up, but the broken bowls and bent spoons still needed to be washed before breakfast.
Hylas flinched at the voice behind him, turning and rapidly shifting his demeanour into something less terrified as he registered the presence of the prince. "Oh. Hello," He roughly whispered, clearing his throat as he relaxed the hand closest to his dagger. He hardly had time to think of answering "Yes" or "No" before his gaze focused on Cas' sunny features, his eyes already alive and sparkling so early in the morning; brown hair turning golden and rusty with the fiery tips of sunlight catching the roughened tips. He swallowed, nodding as he considered his own appearance self-consciously. Straight from sleep, the prince seemed effortless in his unkempt beauty, where Hylas knew that his own face would be equally worn and dull, and his hair, a dark bird's nest. With a long sigh, Hylas smiled and leaned back on the counter, rubbing his eyes as he half-turned to their dining table. "Would you be opposed to…washing a few dishes?" He asked, softly raising an eyebrow. Probability told him that there'd be no way a prince would do such a thing, or even know how to, but considering some of the skills and the observed willingness in Cas, Hylas was curious to see the real thing. "And maybe…start a fire for the stove?" The soft curve of a smile mirrored the prince's as they looked at each other, until finally Hylas nodded and shrugged the blanket off onto a chair. At the door, he turned back and nodded at the jug and basin at the counter. A sink, of sorts. "Going to fill a pail of water for some porridge and tea. I'll bring back some fruit from the courtyard. Don't reckon you've tasted blood plums before."
"Not at all," Cas moved away from the entrance, heading towards the other, "I'm happy to do so." He might be a prince, but he was always willing to help. He also didn't just want to sit around and do nothing otherwise his thoughts would turn to the letter. I don't want to think about that right now. He needed something to distract himself for now, as well as wanting to help out around the place, "Nope, they sound great though." The sweet nectar of the plums sounded delicious. Cas wanted five right that second, the early morning hunger rising as he moved to grab the dishes from the creaky old table. Or maybe the fruit cut up with the porridge Hylas spoke about, his stomach practically grumbled at the thought of it. Shaking his head of thoughts of a warm breakfast and Hylas' cooking, Cas started on the dishes, quietly humming away to himself as he did so. It had been a while since he'd done labour around the house, but then again, he'd been wrapped up in politics and new trade agreements for months with no end in sight, and his father opposed to a prince doing the cleaning. He loved his father, truly, but maybe he was a tad old fashioned at times. It was nice to so something for someone else, especially after what Hylas had done for him last night. If he could return the favour at least a little then he would. Strange to think he'd been planning on killing me a mere three days ago. Seemed so long ago now, being tied up to the little cot and begging Hylas to let him live. He sighed to himself, drifting his thoughts back to yesterday night. The shared dinner, the quiet conversation and how Hylas' dark eyes monitored every small movement made around them. Gods those eyes could kill him just as easily as his hand could.
A prince….cleaning! Hylas smiled to himself, shaking his head as he took the rusty bucket outside and taking in a long breath of the cool, misty air dissolving into thick sunbeams shooting from the clouds. On his way back from the well, he crossed into the courtyard and looked high for ripe blood plums. The ones down low were too young: orange and bright red through their ghostly white skin. He had to look out for ones close to the size of his fist, and a deep enough colour of red that if one held it high, only a little light would pierce through the bloody globes of sweetness. They grew over the Valthean fields like a ravaging wildfire, digging their arthritic roots into the rich soil across every region. They were the only fruit of the land unbothered by disease and most animals, and the people had come to know them as a gift from the Gods. Hylas, young and starving in the wild certainly did. Soon, Hylas was filling his frail pockets with heavy Valthean plums and heading back in with their water. With a sigh, he propped the bucket on the counter and searched for a pot to boil their porridge. "How's that fire going?" He asked, returning with an armful of ingredients. He was never one to waste time when food was in question; years of hunting under burning daylight had taught him to rush such moments; as they were always a means to an end. It didn't occur to him to savour the process and take his time, because what good what that do? He'd stay hungry and vulnerable for longer, and he'd have less time for more important tasks like finding shelter or covering his tracks. But now that he had nowhere to be and no threat to escape from, Hylas felt the inclination to spare himself some time to think, and since he had company, speak. "Did you sleep well?" He asked, hoping that was a question people normally brought up. Hylas measured a few spoonfuls of grain into the pot, sighing as he noticed the sleepy rise of birdsong starting up outside. A heavy caw circling above the safehouse told him that his raven was near, eager for some breadcrumbs and attention.
By the time Hylas had returned, Cas had finished washing up and was gently coaxing the fire into a steady flame. He glanced over his shoulder when he heard the other return, nodding and humming a yes in response to his first question, "Yes, yes I did, thank you." It might not have been the feather mattress he was used to, but the straw bed was more than comfortable, and after the previous night on the ground, Cas was just grateful to sleep on anything but rocks, "Did you?" Small talk, not the most thrilling of conversation but after last night, Cas wasn't going to push Hylas into a conversation if he didn't wish. He had something to do, it was enough to keep his thoughts from wandering to any impending battles and political talks with long, long nights of work, so he was happy with a simple morning. Cas wondered if Hylas had left to go down to the river again. Maybe it was just a once-off thing from the day before, but he was still curious as to the real reason as to why he had left in the middle of the night. Fill up the water my ass. He knew, at least he hoped, Hylas wasn't up to anything that would compromise the plan. An elaborate scheme to keep him alive for as long as possible, learn what his plans would be and send it off to Zaros. An impressive plan if it was true, but after last night, he doubted it was true. Cas knew there were many secrets about Hylas he would never know, but the longer he spent with the man the more his curiosity to learn more about him grew, the more he wished to learn about his past, what went on in that intricate mind of his behind those gorgeous eyes. Cas turned his thoughts back to the fire, making sure it was still crackling away quietly while Hylas prepped breakfast.
"I did, I think," He said with a quiet sense of pride, it had been weeks since he'd gotten that much sleep, and months since he'd slept through the night. Hylas had avoided the conflict of the last morning relating to his oversleeping and Cas' suspicion, but last night's sleep didn't guarantee anything except an extra bit of energy for the day's work. Though his body was tired and his eyes rested on violet shadows, his mind was sharp as anything and in good humour. "I woke a moment before dawn, so maybe a whole five hours straight." He nodded satisfactorily to himself, watching the pot come to a close simmer before searching for a few cubes of sugar to throw in. A few leaves of sweet herbs remained from their last meal, and with a shrug, he threw them in. "Have you got an itinerary for the day?" He asked, filling a cast-iron kettle with water and their blood plums' leaves and broken stems. It was the simplest tea to make, and if boiled for the perfect amount of time, it brought up a flavour richer than the blood plums themselves. Hylas gave the bubbling porridge a stir before grabbing two blood plums. He turned, stepping into a long beam of sunlight to throw one to Cas before greedily sinking his teeth into his own share. The clear, white skin was smooth and almost bitter, while the dark red inner flesh was tender and sweet. He chewed thoughtfully, sighing as he stared off for a moment. "I've got to…Hmm," Another bite, and red nectar spilled over his lips, bloodying his face and hand in the split-second before he found a clean rag, "Chop some firewood…do some wild harvesting. Perhaps catch something in the woods. Sharpen some knives and, of course…" Hylas smiled, his red mouth soft and sweet with satisfaction, "I've got to make sure you don't get yourself killed."
Cas caught the plum with both hands, reflexes not as sharp as Hylas this early in the morning. He inspected the plum over as if it were about to bite him before taking a bite, the juice erupting over his hands as it did so, letting the delicious nectar spill into his mouth and soothe the aching hunger growing inside of him. Not sweetness of the inside combed with the gentle tang of the biter skin was like heaven in his hands. Cas was destructed for a good second before he replied to Hylas, a gentle snort and a quiet chuckle at his last comment, "Me? Get myself killed? Now I might be an idiot but I'm not that stupid." Out here in the middle of nowhere, the worst damage he could do to himself was trip over a log or a loose stone in the courtyard and twist his ankle. He made no mention of the amount of sleep, to be far he guessed he managed the same. Not a long sleep, but a deep sleep nonetheless. Cas knew though he wouldn't be getting out much into the lovely Valthean countryside. He half-turned his head to the desk with the ink and parchment, trying not to let his face crinkle with distaste at having to actually write the letter. What did one even say on an issue such as this? 'Father, I'm sorry for disappearing from my birthday a few days ago but I was kidnapped by The Raven who had a change of heart and instead of killing me, let me go free. Coming home soon! Oh, and by the way, a war is coming - we need to gather allies and move to fight. Love you, Capsian. (he also has magic and probably the witches on his side and has most likely taken the north already).' "The main thing I'll be doing is trying to get that letter written." Cas turned back to the plum. It seemed an impossible task, a heavy task, and one he was on a time constraint for. The longer it took to write, the less time they had to plan, and the trip home would take a good day or more through the hills and forests of Valthea. Sneaking back into the castle without being noticed by any of Zaros' men was an even greater task. He'd have to put some thought into that later, too.
As Hylas waited for the sweet porridge to thicken, he took a few meandering steps around the room. Distracted, he watched a lazy river of dust floating in piercing sunbeams, eating his plum with an absentminded reverence as slow curl of a smile crossed his face, ready to challenge the prince's claim. "Oh, but what if you are?" He teased, struggling to hide a growing grin as he wandered around the room, "What if…you go hungry and wolf down a bush of poisonous berries?" There had been a few close calls in Hylas' past where a bloomed thicket of berries stood untouched by animals in a clearing, and he'd taken it as a gift from the gods. The hungry child had hardly chewed a mouthful of the sour fruit before a burning constriction snaked around his windpipe and threatened to squeeze. Thankfully, nothing had been swallowed, and by the third unfortunate incident, he had learned how to properly identify the species. Hylas nodded to himself, remembering the acid nectar burning as it spilled down his throat. The sweet mouthful of fruit in his mouth seemed treacherous for a moment and so he finished his plum quickly, throwing the stone pit in the vague direction of an open window. "Or, you might be walking along the river before falling, tragically into a rocky rapid." Hylas felt his smile twitch at the playful suggestion, and tried hard to keep his own memories of pain from draining his running joke. That memory was taken from the only time a river had betrayed him. Though, to most Valtheans, Alvalha's Vein was not a river at all. It looked like one, sure enough, but beneath the smooth surface were the clawing hands of underworld spirits, tempting souls to savour its cool waters before crushing them in a ruthless, invisible current. "—I'd have to jump in and get all wet to save you." Hylas sighed, his expression softening for a moment before meeting Cas' gaze with a thoughtless smile. "And…what if another assassin comes sauntering by while I'm not looking, and you decide to go with him?"
Cas laughed, "I'll throw this pit at you don't tempt me." He sat down in the rickety chair from last night, grinning as he pulled a knee to his chest, "Such a gentleman, coming to my rescue like that how charming." He threw Hylas a playful wink. He sure as hell had charmed him at the ball before he'd found out who he was. Hylas might be lacking in the social skills department in some areas, but at the ball, he had been a completely different person. He could turn the charm on when he wanted, he just didn't know it yet, "I think you're just trying to get rid of me. I'm not that insufferable am I?" Cas knew he might have been a little.. pretentious, at the start, but surely he wasn't that bad, right? They were just joking around, from the gorgeous smile on Hylas' face, he knew he wasn't serious, but Hylas was a while mystery and more, he could be telling the truth under that stupid beautiful smile. Cas propped his head on his knee, slightly tilting it to one side as he watched Hylas pace as they waited for breakfast. He quietly savoured the moment, knowing that they wouldn't get many like this once they were back at the castle. They? We? Hylas wouldn't come back with him.. would he? Maybe he would. Cas hoped he would. The thought surprised him slightly. They make a surprisingly good team but an assassin willing to travel to the heart of the kingdom with a king who wanted him dead for kidnapping his son? It was an outlandish thought to think Hylas might come if he even wanted to come. Cas doubted he wished to get involved with anything more than necessary. Maybe he would though. He sighed dramatically, "Maybe I might just wander off to my death if you don't want me here."
Hylas joined the prince's laughter with his own bashful chuckling, trying to hide his smile as he turned back to the stove and thought of Cas' smile behind him. An what about that wink, my. In truth, he was suspicious of Cas' returned warmth, questioning how the prince, a near victim of his could knowingly smile and joke with him. His mind answered with a soft conspiracy of lowering his guard and gaining his trust before enacting a plan of vengeance and justice. If that was the case, it didn't stop Hylas from enjoying the honeyed laughter stitched into the voice behind him. "Insufferable?" Hylas echoed, stirring the bubbling breakfast before throwing in a pinch of powdered mint. Smiling, he paused and looked up in mock consideration, "Well, let's see. I've known you for…what, three days? And so far you've insisted on an explanation of my plan, dragged me across the border on foot, expressed your urge to kill me— though that one's a little more understandable —and drained a month's worth of savings on a…trip through town." He peered devilishly over his shoulder, his smile half-hidden but still reaching his eyes. "What do you think, princey? Maybe just a little insufferable? Just a bit?" The prince's pouty declaration was amusing. With a few breathy laughs, Hylas was frowning sarcastically and shaking his head. "And I see what you're doing— trying to get me to say I want you here to prove a little point." A dramatic sigh, a stifled chuckle, "Well guess what? The Gods want you here." Hylas had been so stuck on the prince and his thoughtless humour that he hadn't registered how the porridge was thick and fragrant on the stove. "Oh. Bowls," He whispered, forgetting their conversation and quickly shuffling the pot off the flat furnace, "Where are the bowls?"
Cas leaned back in the chair, using the table to balance himself, "Okay well I mean… half of that is my fault but you didn't have to spend so much in town," He countered, swinging on the chair. Hylas didn't have to buy the extra sword, nor did he have to buy so much parchment and ink for him, that was in him. And he had been the one to kidnap him and nearly kill him before so expressing his own wish to do so was fair. Not that he would do it, Cas didn't stand a chance up against Hylas even if he wanted to, "And here I was thinking you liked me." Placing all four chair legs back on the ground, Cas moved to grab the clean bowls from the basin, "Maybe I will run off with another assassin." He placed the bowls on the table, the warm morning air having dried them and the spoons off just enough that it wouldn't impact breakfast. There was no one around for miles, Cas doubted the townsfolk ventured this far and even so, most likely knew well enough to not go looking for the mysterious stranger who passed through their little village every once and a while clocked in black and bloodied. Screw the Gods. They seemed to have it out for both of them these days. Two wars in one lifetime, and another cursed to kill until he died. Whatever plan they had, he wasn't enjoying living on the path that they had him going down. A life of endless meetings and declarations and dull conversations and wars to prevent. No time for a moment of peace. That's if he even survived the war that was coming, a bigger war than any the continent had seen in a millennium. Ravaging the continent like a swarm, killing whoever got in the way, and Cas would be in the heart of it.
