(I'm gonna do a little time jump if you're alright with that.)
Nico only smiled at him in answer. He finished packing up their camping and riding of any evidence they had stayed there. This wasn't their first time or even their fiftieth. They knew how to stay hidden and cover their tracks. While there wasn't much they could do while mounted to the horses, camps were easy enough to erase. The horses they counted on the be waved away on wild horses. It had worked in their luck so far.
Once the camp was done, Nico met Bel by his horse. "After you," he said. He would offer hemp if needed but with Bel's hands no longer tied, he should be able to mount just fine. Nico wouldn't admit to the twing of disappointment he felt. He had been looking forward to having an excuse to touch Bel. But he needed to behave himself.
(alskdfj yeah just fine!)
Bel smiles at Nico's chivalry and quickly mounts the horse in a practiced fashion. He only realizes after he's mounted that Nico had offered a helping hand. Oh. Whoops. If Bel had noticed he would've surely accepted it. Only moments later the other man is behind him, making the back of Bel's neck heat up. "Do I get to know where we're going yet?" He asks. "At least a village." It's the second official day with the band of vagabonds, much better than their initial meeting with the ropes and crashed carriage, and far superior to the anxiety-ridden first day.
With the talk the night before and something unsaid between them, Bel at least hopes Nico will trust him like Bel trusts Nico. He hopes his handful of breakdowns haven't been for nothing.
Nico stilfed a laugh, the others not so much. He mounted the horse behind Bel, his arms snaking around him to grip the reigns. "Not just yet, Highness, we've still got a little ways to go. We're a little too close for comfort." He gave Bel a soft smile. "Tired of the road already?"
And they were off.
Time seemed to go by quickly. Night bled into day, day bled into night. The six of them rode through the woods, off the main roads. They stopped only when night had fallen to rest and were on the road at daybreak the next morning. The group traded stories with the prince to pass the time. All lighter stories of their travels. They did not share the dark and horror they had experienced. Not only would it give away Nicandros but there were some things better left unsaid.
The days were rather uneventful. Laurent said as much, making everyone else grown. And it was for that they would blame when it became eventful.
The sun hadn't even fully risen the sky when trouble came. They were minding their business, taking the path of bandits and thieves instead of the main road. One moment, everything was fine. The next, a group men jumped out if the trees and bushes, an ambush. Their weapons were raised an pointed. There looked to be twenty of them only six of Nico's men, five without Bel.
"We don't want any trouble," Nico called out, "Let us on our way and your men will be spared."
The bandits laughed. "Trouble is what we came for."
Throughout the days, Bel gradually becomes more comfortable around the men. He laughs alongside them beside the fire, he shares their rations, he listens raptly to all of their stories.
The night had grown slowly familiar, but Bel still doesn't trust any of the noises and shadows that lurk beneath it. Often times, he falls asleep next to the fire and only awakens when the sun begins to poke from the horizon. That was the morning before. Nico had woken him, Bel smiled, they mounted the horse and they were off.
Bel was only beginning to settle into the soft canter of the horse when it stops. His breath hitches, his heart leaps, his stomach plummets–they're surrounded. Surrounded by bandits. Bel quickly gages the area. Five against twenty, Bel hardly counting himself. He's skilled in a hunting bow, but he doubts his shaking hands will allow him to take another human's life. "Nico–" He says softly, grabbing the arm wrapped around him.
Nico pressed his hand against Bel's stomach, firm and comforting. He discretely slipped a dagger into Bel's hand with his other hand. "If anyone gets close to you, you gut them," he whispered. He would rather the chance either him or his men getting gutted than anything happen to Bel.
"Now friends, I think you should think this through. If you continue, you will be dead and we will have wasted an afternoon. I think it's in your best interest to turn around and walk away." Nico spoke out to the men surrounding them. Said men burst into laughter, throwing in words of "yeah right" and "There's more of us than you." Nico only looked at his men, nodded and they were off. In flash, they were off their horses and cutting through the men closest to them like an assassin in the night. Five were done, fifteen more to go. The bandit sobered up quickly, spurring into a fight. Nicandros unsheathed his sword, engaging in combat with three others.
Instinct took over. There was no room to think. Thinking would get him killed. he fought with all his might. An opponent fell leaving him with two others. Unbeknownst to him, there was a bandit dodging the fight and aiming for the prince on the horse.
Bel's heart stutters at the thought of taking a life–however, the thought of being on the other end of a blade is far more frightening. He grips the dagger hilt tightly. Before he can even process it, the five assassins are off their horses and dropping bandits like flies. His eyes widen at the bloodshed, freezing in place atop the still horse.
Frozen, Bel can't see the approaching bandit. With a cry, he's knocked off the saddle, hitting the ground right on his back. The bandit is atop of him, a knife in hand. Somewhere from deep within him, instinct takes over and Bel's stuck the knife into the shoulder of the bandit. He scrambles out from beneath him as the bandit cries in pain, but it didn't do anything to kill him–just angered him.
Bel curses and gets to his feet. His eyes landing on a spare bow on the back of a horse. Within seconds he's grabbed the bow and nocked and arrow and sent it straight into the heart of the bandit.
Hearing his cry, Nico whipped his head around to see Bel get knocked off of his horse. He was moving. Moving to Bel, moving to protect him. But he was stopped by two of the men. Swords swung. He ducked but not in time. A sword knicked his shoulder, slicing through skin and blood came rushing out. He barely felt it. His only drive was to get to Bel. He drove his sword into the man's chest and a knife in the eye of the other. Then he was turning to run back to Bel. Hopefully, it wasn't too late.
But Bel had a bow in his hands and the man was dead. Nico wanted to go to him but there were still men alive. He jumped back into the fray, pulling a man off of Laurent. The man who had spoken to him originally, likely the leader. He buried a knife in the bandit's belly. "They're coming for you," the man gurgled as blood welled in his mouth. "They're coming."
"Let them come." Nico slit his throat and then stood. Twenty bodies lay dead around them. The six of them stood tall, mayhaps a little injured. A few shallow cuts and bruises forming already. Nothing was broken, nothing was serious.
"You're arm," Braxton came to his side, taking a hold of Nico's bicep below the cut.
He waved him off. "I'm alright. Clear the way so we can get out of here. The blood will only draw attention." Ni co turned his head to Bel. As he began to take a step towards him, Braxton pulled him back. "You need stitching," Braxton lowered his voice.
"It will have to wait." Nico pulled his arm free of his grip and walked away. He was by Bel's side in an instant, gently pulling the bow out of his hands. The adrenaline was pumping through him, his arm nothing but a distant thought. Blood was beginning to drip down his arm and yet he didn't care about anything else other than the prince. "Are you hurt?"
As the bandit hits the ground, Bel only hears the roar of blood in his ears. The sound is slowly replaced by Bel's breathing, growing heavier and heavier by the moment. His vision clouds. His hands shake. Bel just killed a man. He killed a man.
It's only when Nico pulls the bow from his hand does he truly come back to reality. "Am I hurt?" He repeats. "N-No– I don't think so." As soon as he says it, a searing pain rips through his ribcage. He winces, bringing his hand to hold his side. He brings his hand away, noting how it's coated in blood. When knocked off his horse, the bandit must have sliced him. "Yes," Bel says quietly. "I am hurt, but–" He finds the red leaking from Nico's arm. "You're hurt too."
Nico looked down and saw only the blood thay was coming from Bel. He inhaled deeply, anger flooding him. He wanted to go and kill te man that did this all over again. Instead, he gently lifted Bel's short to look at the wound.
"I'm fine. Let's get you bandaged quick." With a whistle, his horse cane trotting over. He rummaged through the side pouch and pulled out some bandage. "Keep your shirt raised."
He was quick and gentle to bandage the prince. It wasn't the best job nor the cleanest. The wounds would need to be cleaned out but they didn't have time. Not with all the blood seeping into the ground. The scent would draw other animals and monster alike to them. Creatures that would kill them to if they caught them. So it would have to wait.
"I'm sorry, it's the best I can do for now. We'll take care of it better later. We'll find the closest village and tend to ourselves and our wounds there." Nico looked away. He couldn't bare to watch it. He had promised to protect Bel. His protection had gotten him nowhere but injured.
Bel is slow to respond, hesitantly keeping his shirt raised as Nico bandages the wound. It aches, the mix of pain and shock and remorse for it all leaving tears in his eyes. He worried for infection, but he knows it's not the time nor place to bring it up. The promise of an upcoming village at least brings some solace to the situation. It's been far too long since Bel has stayed in a bed and interacted with people other than the assassins.
"It's fine–" Bel says, letting his shirt drop as he wipes his eyes with the back of his sleeve. "I'll be fine–" He reaches forward, grabbing Nico's injured arm to inspect it. "But your arm." Mentally, he asses his dozens of hobbies, trying to figure out something that could help Nico. There's cooking, calligraphy, playing the mandolin, horseback, archery– Archery. The scene replays in his mind. The arrow, the bandit, the target, the death– Bel drops Nico's arm, his chest beginning to heave once more.
"Nico, I killed a man–" he whispers, tears beginning to seep from his eyes.
Nico shook his head. "I'm alright. Don't worry about me." Using the remained bandaged, he wrapped his arm tightly. It was even worse than Belicoril's but he could care less. He wasn't going to die from a little bit of blood loss. It could be taken care of later.
He looked up, noticing his panic. Nico grabbed his cheeks gently, smearing a bit of blood accidentally on his skin. He caressed his cheek with his thumb. "Hey, look at me Bel. Focus on me." He murmured. "I need you to stay calm right now. I know this is scary but I need to get you some place safe okay? When we're safe, you can scream and cry as much as you want, but you have to wait so I can get you safe."
Against better judgment, Nico pulled the prince into his arms. He held onto him tight, rubbing his back. "You did what you had to do. It was you or him. I'm proud of you."
Bel focuses on Nico, trying to still his heavy breathing. "Okay," he whispers. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry," He nods, exhaling shakily. Nico draws Bel into his arms and Bel collapses into it, returning it tightly. Bel doesn't voice what he's thinking. He could've had a family. He could've had a child to take care of. He could've, he could've, he could've–
"I don't want to stay here any longer," he says brokenly into Nico's ear. The sun is just barely making it's way through the sky, marking the dawn of the new day.
In the very dawn of the morning, four horses and three riders sprint through the palace wall. The guards, bribed with coin and a kiss, turn their heads from the action. The Crown Prince leads their tiny cavalry with a sword at his side. Behind him are his sisters, with rope darts and daggers and potions full of poison. The fourth horse, well-trained, rides empty but awaiting the fourth sibling.
Their father is blind to the mission. Miran was sure that his sisters would arrive from their secondary kingdoms, Cobrass and Lumiere, without alerting their father, nor the head of the guard–Cevineire. They prepared under the shadow of night and with rations baked by their beloved Mathilde.
With the fastest horses in the entire army and a goal in mind, they ride. They don't know where, but they're determined. They have a brother to rescue.
"Let's get you out of here." Nico didn't want to pull away but it was the only way to get him on the horse. Nico lifted Bel by his hips and gently placed him on the horse before mounting behind him. One arm wrapped about Bel's stomach and the other held the reigns.
Braxton approached him on horseback. "Eldra is an hours ride from here, maybe less. It's our best shot." Eldra was the initial village they meant to stop in along the way. There were may Lisias supporters and just haters of the king. They had always supported Nico and his people anytime they rode through. Of course, no one knew who Nico truly was, and those that did, didn't advertise it. They could get what they needed for low or no cost there.
"Let's go." Nico spurred the horse and they were off galloping. Due to fatigue and weeks of riding, they were slower than usual. The ride took a bit longer than it should have, maxing about the hour. They reached the stables on the outskirts of the village. The stable boys didn't question it as they rode in.
Bel opens his mouth to oppose being helped onto the horse, especially when Nico is far more injured than him, but he's already mounted on the saddle. Nico behind him has never felt more comfortable, more reassuring. Braxton approaches and gives a brief bit of intel, on a village known as Eldra not too far. The promise of a village has never sounded so sweet. Eldra. It sounds familiar, something Bel's likely seen on a map once or twice. Nothing large, nothing notable, nothing too close to the main Araniel Palace.
They ride, a quick journey. As the first buildings begin to come into sight, Bel's shoulders drop with relief. He's still sniffling, recovering from his earlier panic and current pain. It had been the first time Bel had ever been hit with an enemy's blade. Val and Miran had knocked him back on his ass multiple times during their brief sparring matches, but they had never been ruthless enough to draw blood.
"I hope there's soup," Bel notes softly, missing the luxury of a fine both of broth and noodles. If he ever sees Mathilde again, he's going to rightly embrace her meek frame and then kindly request an entire cauldron of her famous stew.
Nico could have laughed. Could have. He pressed his head close to Bel's, his lips brushing against his head. Almost a kiss. Almost. He leaned down to speak in his ear, "I'll buy you as much soup as you would like. I'll buy you anything you want."
His grip tightened around his abdomen, hugging him close. He was careful of the wound on Bel's stomach. Just the though had his own curling. He was angry but more with himself that he had ket this happen. How could he? He had failed and he had only known Bel for just a week. Nico wasn't like this. He didn't fail, not like this.
He swung down from the horse and helped Bel down as well. Laurent was already speaking to the stable owners and passing along a few coins. The others had gathered to Nico.
"We find lodgings and care for our wounds. The rest will come later. Braxton, get what we need. Meet us at the Maiden's Taveren. We'll rent out three rooms." Three rooms meant they would have to share. Three rooms was all he felt comfortable doing. He was taking business away from the tavern and it was safer to sleep in pairs.
The hand around his torso is reassuring, comforting, and entirely welcome. He tilts his head back into Nico's. The horses stop, the other men dismount to take care of the room assignments. Bel accepts Nico's help, hissing a little bit as his wound is agitated. He takes in as much as he can–the new people, the weather, the buildings–all to take away from the throbbing pain at his side. Perhaps he was cut deeper than he first thought.
Three rooms. Six men. Bel's not blind to know that he's going to be spending the night with one of the men. Nico. It only makes sense. Bel strokes the back of the horse. Perhaps he'll finally get a chance to relax and read, or even play his mandolin for the first time in a week. A week–that feels far too long and too short for it to be true.
"Lead the way," he says, the village completely foreign to Bel.
Nico placed a hand on Bel's back, guiding him. He walked in step with him, ready to protect him with his body. Nico was agitated now, on the tips of his toes. He was ready for a fight. His fingertips were twitching and the air began shifting around him in response. He stretched his hands and stilled them by his sides.
The Maiden's tavern was in the center of the square. Stalls were set up in the streets, people bustled around about their day. Vendors were calling out to try and entice others to shop. Commonfolk and nobles alike were buying at stalls, what they needed, what they wanted. No one paid their group any mind. And there, clear as day, was the Maiden's tavern. It was a three-story building with a decent clientele. People were coming and going from the tavern. The people going were stumbling a bit more than the people going in.
Nico ushered Bel into the tavern. He walked past the people and workers until he was right up to the bar. Good, Maia was working. She was the owner of the tavern and a Lasias contact. She fed them information of soldiers and courtiers alike that came through her tavern. Her information was never wrong and had led to many successful stings.
"Nico, is that you?" Maia exclaimed as she noticed him. "What a sorry state you're in. How many rooms do you need?"
"Just three."
"Just three? Are you sure?"
"I'm sure." Nico pulled out a pouch of coins and dipped his fingers in to take some out. "No, no, no. Don't you pay me Nico. I don't need your money. You have done more than enough for me," Maia protested. "Here are the keys. Please, go take a hot bath and patch yourselves up. Let me know if you would like for me to bring up some food for you later."
Maia knew they liked to have space and privacy as they entered their rooms and surveyed it. Nico had no plans to call on her, she was busy down there. They would go downstairs and eat when they had finished bandaging each other up. Nico handed out the keys to the others, each with heir own preference who they'd like to share a room with.
"You're with me Bel."
Bel watches the exchange between the barmaid and Nico, noting how familiar their interactions are. She must be a contact of the Lisais–someone Nico has worked with either currently or in the past. A sorry state is a polite way of putting it, with both Bel and Nico (perhaps the others) actively bleeding from poorly bandaged wounds. The tavern, though, looks plenty lively with mugs of beer and the smell of food. There's a bard in the corner, playing a merry tune on their lute.
Bel nods, following Nico to their assigned room. He steps in, noting the quaint charm. Natural morning light filters in through the singular window above the singular bed. Bel's blood momentarily runs cold. Sleeping beside Nico on the floor of the wilderness is one thing, but the thought of sleeping beneath the same sheets causes Bel's face to heat. He would offer to sleep on the floor, but he knows they both wouldn't want that.
"How cozy," Bel observes, taking the few steps and plopping down on the bed. It's nothing like his at the palace, but it's leagues better than grass and a bedroll.
Nio smiled softly at his words. "I know it's not what you're used to but it'll be better than sleeping on grass." He set his pack on the ground against the wall. "You cam have the bed, I'll take the floor. Bathroom is right through there," he pointed to another door, "go bathe. There's some antibacterial soap already in there. I want you to clean your would with it, alright?"
When Braxton returned, he would have a few other things to make sure it was truly cleaned out and a slave to soothe the pain and aid in healing. Hopefully it would only need bandaging and not stitching. Unlike his own wound that certainly needed stitching. Nico would do it himself after he had tended to Bel. That was his priority currently.
"In you go," Nico almost pushed Bel towards the bathroom. Not because the prince smelled or anything, but the thought of Bel being naked and just a door separating them was starting to cause some problems for him. A problem he didn't want to deal with right now. He had other things to worry about but his body seemed to disregard that. "Just hollar if you need anything. Towels are in the cabinet and I'll some new clothes for you when you're out."
The protest of "well, the bed's plenty big enough– dies on his tongue as Nico shuffles Bel into the bathroom, the door closing behind him. "Huh," he says aloud, slowly making his way to the mirror attached above the tub. The water is already warm and Bel has to wonder how it got that way so quickly. He checks his short dreadlocks in the mirror, testing to see if they're necessary to wash. He last washed them a day before he set out for Irgiven. It's been a week since then, but adding the elements and sweat into the equation, Bel figures it would be smart to shampoo.
Carefully, to not agitate his wound, Bel strips and folds the clothes neatly, setting them atop of the short cabinet. Sure enough, there are folded towels behind the small cabinet doors. They don't look nearly as soft nor clean as Bel's used to, but he knows that it'll have to do. It will all just have to do.
A hiss escapes his lips as he settles into the hot tub, already reaching for the vials and bars of soap provided. For such a small inn, they're certainly well-stocked with decent products. They may not smell like his favorite lemon and honey scented soaps, but the soft floral scent is still pleasant. Bel takes his time washing, wanting to savor the warm water as long as possible. It's only when it begins to grow cold does he pull the drain and stand. Like he expected, the towels are slightly scratchy as he wraps one around his lower half and uses another to dry his hair.
Once the door was shut, Nico all but collapsed down on the bed. He unlaced his boots and set them aside. He took several deep breaths and calculated thinking to get his own problem under control. He couldn't afford to behave like that. Bel was his captive. He couldn't…but he wanted to.
There was a small knock at the door and Nico opened it to reveal Braxton. There was a small bag in his hand, necessary products from the apothecary in the village. Bandages, antiseptic, salve, needle and thread. It was all there. In the other hand was a small stack of clothing. Ones that would better fit Bel and Nico. Clean, fresh clothing. "Do you want me to stitch you up?" Braxton offered.
Nico shook his head. "No I can do it. Go tend to yourself. We'll meet downstairs in a bit." His friend nodded then turned to the door across from him and stepped in. Nico closed the door and dropped the bag and clothing on the bed. He looked down at the bandaged wound on his arm. The bandage had long soaked through with blood. He grimaced. The adrenaline was wearing off and the pain was beginning to set it. It would only get worse as the day progressed.
When he no longer heard splashing from the bathroom, he lifted his head. He walked uo to the door and knocked gently. "I have some clothes for you. Leave the shirt off so I can take care of your wound."
In the mirror, Bel catches the long cut stretching across his ribcage. It's not too deep, but it's large, still slightly seeping from the cut. For a moment, he's mesmerized by it. Bel's only seen his own blood when accidentally pricking himself with a needle or catching a bloody nose when the seasons change. This was caused by another human, somebody after Bel's life.
The knock at the door slightly startles Bel. He clears his throat and quickly checks his reflection in the fogged mirror before getting to the door and opening it. Offering a close-lipped smile, he accepts the clothes before shutting the door again. The last he changed was in front of a group of men, and he intends on getting some privacy this time–even if he doesn't hate the idea of Nico seeing.
He makes quick work of the pants, noting how they gratefully semi-fit him this time around. No need for a belt to keep his pants up. Obeying Nico's instruction, he leaves the shirt off, his chest still just a little damp from the bath. He keeps a towel around his shoulder as he exits the bathroom. "I left the clothes in there–" He points to the bathroom. "Just folded atop the cupboard if you'd like them back."
Nico was very gentlemanly by keeping his gaze away from the door as Bel opened it to take the clothes from him. They were both men yes, but Bel was a prince and a person and he wanted to offer him privacy. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he waited for the door to open again.
He looked up as he heard it open. His eyes started at his feet, slowly making rheir way up, pausing for way to long on his bare waist and chest before looking at his face. He would deny it all day but he certainly wasn't focusing on his wound but everything else. He cleared his throat.
"Go sit on the bed so I can take a proper look." Nico waited until Bel was sat then kneeled before him. He placed the bag next to him looked at the wound. He grabbed some cloth and antiseptic first. He coated the cloth first. "This is going to sting a bit," he warned before pressing it to the open wound.
Bel follows the instructions and sits on the edge of the bed. He tilts his body, allowing his ribcage to be more accessible to Nico. He keeps his eyes to the ceiling, chin raised to hide the climbing blush. He braces himself, but not nearly enough as the cloth connects to his wound. He bites his lip–hard–to muffle the small cry of pain that escapes him.
Eventually, the pain dulls and Bel finally allows himself to breathe. He's very conscious of Nico's fingers on his abdomen, they're red hot with the cut, though instead of needles and ache, they're soft and comforting, even despite the callouses. The bandage is a welcome addition, finally giving the compression Bel needs around his waist.
"Thank you," Bel says eventually, allowing his head to drop and meet Nico's eyes. "Really, thank you for everything."
After the antiseptic, Nico quickly slathered on a small amount of salve. It would help numb the pain and aide in healing. He placed a trimmed gauze to the wound and used cloth bandages to secure it carefully around his waist. It was a much better job than it had been previously. "We'll change it daily to make sure there isn't an infection and to ket the wound have a little bit of breathing time." He placed everything to the side and stood up. "Get some rest or go downstairs and get some food. I'm going to go wash up."
Nico grabbed the bag and made sure everything was inside of it. His arm was burning in pain now, calling for him to tend to it. He barely kept his grimace off of his face. Taking hold of the clothes, he disappeared into the bathroom. He kept the door shut but not locked in case Bel needed anything from him.
He cut the bloody cloth off of his arm and quickly stripped. He got into the bath and washed himself. He made sure to scrub all of the dirt and blood off of his body, leaving his wound for last. The leaking, oozing wound. He let out a hiss of pain as he pressed the soapy rag to it, cleaning it. He forgot how much hat hurt.
Cleaned, he was out if the bath, dried off, and wearing just his trousers. Taking the antiseptic, he doused his wound, a groan slipping past his lips. Just because he was used to the pain didn't mean it didn't hurt any less.
