"Really?" Sláine hadn't paid much attention. "I've never been to a Fae celebration, but I hear that they can go all out sometimes. Caoimhe and I have been talking of going to one sometime. In disguise, of course." There was no telling how the Fae would feel about two witch princes crashing their party. They might not care, but they might also be rather upset at them.
Now that he had a topic on his mind, the prince was awake and focused on Eurion. The blush had all of his attention, but he pretended that it didn't for both of their sakes. This… this meant nothing. The assassin had simply needed comfort the night before, and that extended into the morning when the both of them realized just how much they craved the warmth of another. Nothing more, nothing less. Sláine shouldn't be finding anything endearing about Eurion, or focusing on how the man's skin was so soft and warm beneath his touch, or how he could feel the man's breath on his chest through his shirt. He shouldn't be dreading the moment Caoimhe announced his wakefulness, which would trigger the need to separate and act like the complete strangers that they were. But they didn't feel like such strangers. Sláine had the overwhelming urge to protect the assassin from his patrons, to somehow sever the deal they had to get the Gods to leave him the fuck alone. He shouldn't be reacting so strongly to Eurion, but he was, and he couldn't help it.
Eclipse. Does he have an interest in the night sky? The prince sought out everything he knew about the topic, to provide something to talk about that wasn't solely reliant on Eurion. "Our people here have festivals too, but our traditions lie more around legends and storytelling than feasts and new beginnings. Lots of constellations and stars are centered around powerful people, like a remembrance of them. There's one constellation, the Great Hound. An ancient vampire mercenary that did many terrible things, until he was killed in battle, and he became the first hellhound. Servant of Death himself, called Cain for the nature of his sins." Sláine grinned a little, and dropped his voice to a conspiring whisper. "His daughter calls him Papa, and he's utterly devoted to his husbands. It's the cutest shit."
Eurion huffed a soft laugh, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips at Sláine’s words. Even if it was small, it was there, “That’s ridiculous.” He knew little of the witch traditions. He’d been around during a few festivals many years ago but wasn’t in the position to enjoy the festivities, if only because of work but partly due to the notion that he didn’t want to look stupid having no understanding of what was going on around him.
“Eclipses are one of the most important times for us, only followed by the winter and summer solstices.” He still remembered his first celebrations, how extraordinary and extravagant they were. Months of planning went into making sure everything was perfect. From the hanging lanterns that lined the streets and tree canopies, to the music and dancing, the vendors selling foods only found on those nights of the year. The Fae went all out. There was not a single child who didn’t know the stories behind his kind, the history behind why those times were so important to them. It was always a lucky year when an eclipse fell, bringing out three celestial celebrations compared to two. Some called it a lucky year, others just used it as an excuse to party and drink until they couldn’t remember their own name.
Eurion was one of the few who had only celebrated a couple times in his long life- another thing the Gods had taken from him before he could realise what was involved in the newfound position. Younger him hadn’t cared, but as the years went on and he found himself visiting his homelands during those times for a drink when he could and to watch the events, he started caring a little more.
“Skyfall often is on the same night, at least in the same week. When- supposedly- our ancestors fall from the sky to bless the new beginning the eclipse brings.” He’d never been during Skyfall, though Eurion prayed that eventually he’d have the opportunity. His parents had spoken of the beauty of the event- stars falling from the sky and dancing in a beautiful display of colour that was only heightened by the eclipse. Another buried dream of the assassin’s.
Ridiculous was the right word for it. When the twins had met the surly vampire, Kade had been wholely attentive of the small High Witch and spoke fondly of their Fae husband. It was a brief meeting, filled with Azriel huffing and puffing about how the witch had supposedly fucked his boyfriend. Sláine hadn't known what to do, as he had never seen his cousin so fired up over something, but Finn had only been amused by the situation, albeit a little defensive over the accusations. However the stories painted the vampire, Kade hadn't done anything to be a threat. Still, Sláine didn't want to cross the man.
As Eurion talked, the prince listened intently with a small smile dancing on his lips. An absurd thought popped into mind, and it jumped from his tongue without hesitation regardless of the implications it might have. "When is the eclipse? We should go to one of the festivals." It would be a break from the Gods for the assassin, and a connection to his Fae roots. But it would also be a source of fun for the witches, and an experience that likely none of them have had before. The twins loved nothing more than a good party to drink and dance at, and Aideen's only experiences with festivals and parties were the ones that Caoimhe attended.
He pictured Eurion at one such festival. Would he be dressed up for the occasion, or lurking in the shadows to avoid detection? Would he be coaxed to stay at the prince's side? Or maybe Sláine would want to stand back and watch him let loose on his own, comfortable with his people. Curiosity got the best of the prince, and so many scenarios passed through his mind; which meant that the idea of attending the festivals only solidified into his mind. Fuck the Gods. It would be nothing more than a pit stop, really. A small break, or even an excuse to find information hidden in the nooks of Fae lands. Excuses could be found anywhere if one looked hard enough—the twins were well versed in excuses for their shenanigans.
They'd of course have to mask themselves, and Aideen too. Twist their magic to make them look Fae to fit in. But the prince didn't mind it as much when the thought of fun came into play. And Eurion. Eurion having fun. Eurion not afraid, even if for a few hours at a time.
Eurion's eyes opened and he looked up at Sláine, "It's a week from tomorrow but-" Would it be a good idea to even go? With the Gods breathing down his neck, probably watching his every move, would they even have time? He remembered what the prince had said last night about time, how the assassin didn't need to worry about it anymore because they were on his turf and it would be okay but he still couldn't help but worry, and it showed, "They aren't patient and your guard friend also doesn't seem patient."
The Fae lands were a few days trek out from the palace, and it wasn't the easiest terrain to cross, probably why the Fae were so detached when it came to the rest of the kingdom- not that they cared, they were secluded people to begin with but when taking into account the new deal that had been made? Eurion didn't know if it was a good idea. As much as he would love to say yes. Yes to experiencing the festival, Skyfall, and being there with someone else who also sounded like they wanted to go, but he couldn't help but focus on what could go wrong. It was in his nature to access and weigh the outcomes. What happened if the Gods made themselves known during the festival? That would take away all the fun from the night and if they were drinking then he doubted there would be any help from Sláine like last night.
And the markerstones.. what about them? Eurion had seen no such thing in his homelands so it would be completely unhelpful to take a detour through under the guise of trying to find one of the stones. He guesses that the libraries of the Fae may hold some more information on the things, and the Old Gods, too. They had books that dated back centuries, there would be bound to be something there but either way, it was a long shot. They'd all become distracted by the festival events on top of that. Eurion knew he would, too wrapped up in the idea and being able to finally experience something as magical as the Eclipse and Skyfall but if he let his guard down too far chances were something bad was going to happen. It always did.
When he felt Eurion moving his head, Sláine lifted his own to make it easier to look at one another. He didn't like the eyes he was being given this time. They weren't filled with a seeming drunkenness of comfort, but tinged in fear and worry. The prince wanted to erase that look, just as he had erased the one from last night, but this time the origin had to be pinned onto him for bringing up something that would reasonably worry the assassin. He could see every thought crossing the man's mind, even if he didn't voice the entirety of them. What he did say was enough, though, and Sláine addressed them one at a time—the second one was easy enough. "Aideen can be made patient. She's as guilty of being a scoundrel as you are, and can be as patient as you if she needs to be." It's how she caught you, he didn't add, but the silent addition sparkled in his eyes. Humor might not be the best choice at the moment.
And as for the first worry, the prince shifted, sliding the hand on Eurion's face down until he caught the assassin's chin in his grasp and tilted his face up so he couldn't hide away. Of course, he refused to acknowledge how his thumb bumped against Eurion's bottom lip. "They chose you," he murmured. "They chose you for a reason. They send messages to you for a reason. You have done what they ask for. If they cut you down after all you've done for them for something as stupid as a slight delay, then that makes them cowards." Provoking the Gods? Perhaps not a good idea, but in his lifetime, he came to realize that challenging someone with an accusation such as cowardice tended to work in your favor, at least once. "Such powerful beings being so afraid of their sword defecting for a festival? Sounds like cowardice to me. If you were so easily replaceable, they'd have many more in the world fulfilling their dirty work."
The prince scanned Eurion's expression for a few seconds, tawny eyes full of galaxies that seemed to rumble with a silent storm. No matter his feelings on the Gods, though, his voice was soft and gentle as he spoke again. "But we don't have to go, if you don't want to." He'd never mention it to his brother or Aideen. They'd never have to know of this conversation. He'd respect Eurion's choice in the matter without hesitation or question.
You don’t know them like I do. Years spent under their watchful eyes, tormenting and using him for whatever they wished, taking out those they wanted and deemed necessary. Year after year with no break bar a few days when he physically was incapable of being used. Eurion felt less like a person the longer things went on and more like a tool. Sure, the Gods hadn’t replaced him yet, but they didn’t have a need, not while he was still willing and in peak performance. Not when he didn’t complain or ask for anything more than just one day off.
The change in Sláine’s hand, the slight touch to his lip had Eurion catching it in his teeth for a moment. Even if he wanted to turn his head away the prince’s hold on him prevented it. Rational thought told him to close his eyes, but something about those eyes, the way the prince was looking at him had his gaze fixed on him despite his better judgment.
“I never said I didn’t want to go.” He said, letting his gaze scan Sláine’s face- from his eyes, to his lips and nose and back again- because oh did he want to. He wouldn’t let the extent of how desperate he was to attend the festival, because over eagerness never ended well, but it showed enough to make it clear that he did, he really wanted to go, “Maybe… one night wouldn’t hurt?”
One night. Eurion would allow himself one night, just this once. If anything went wrong he wouldn’t let himself live it down, but for now, he would give himself that much. It was also difficult to say no to a prince, a prince that was looking at him softer than anyone had ever given Eurion and holding him in such a way that made him want to melt.
It wasn't hard to see that Eurion wanted to argue. His expression practically screamed it, and the prince had the mind to consider letting go and letting the topic die right there. He knew it was a risk to detour without real reason besides some time to relax. And he also knew that Eurion, ultimately, was the only one to truly know the extent of the Gods' wrath. Sláine could be wrong, and they wouldn't take the bait to his declaration of their cowardice. They might strike the assassin down the moment the group stepped a single foot off course, angry that they were being made to wait, and the prince might not be able to protect him in time.
Ask the Middle, his thoughts whispered, ask the drōg to bless him. Sláine batted those thoughts away.
He didn't think that Eurion would say yes, but he saw the moment the assassin was worn down by the slightest shift in expression. How the man looked him up and down and submitted to the prince's hold, and the bubbling eagerness starting to shine through. Sláine grinned as if he won some sort of prize. "One night it is." One night of revel before they set off properly to uncover the schemes of the Gods and the purpose Aideen must have connected to them. One night of drinking and food and Fae delights. His joy cracked for a split second, though, as his eyes left Eurion's.
Sláine felt the shift before it appeared. He moved to block the assassin just as an object flew through the wall, similarly to how the chicken had appeared in the dead of the night, and let go of his face to swat at it before it hit either one of them. It was a pillow, seen as it bounced harmlessly to the floor after the prince's counter. "I'm going to fucking kill him," Sláine muttered, just as laughter identical to his voice filtered through the walls. Relaxing back down to the mattress, he looked back to Eurion with a heavy sigh, the arm still around the assassin's waist holding him firmly in place. "Should've let you go through him."
Eurion was ready to tell Sláine to take that grin off his face because it really wasn't that big a deal, but then he was moving before he could speak and batting away a pillow the assassin hadn't seen coming. He hadn't felt the shift in the magic due to the fact that his own abilities weren't as strong, and the prince knew his brother so it was easier to expect what may have been coming before it arrived. He wouldn't lie and say that it hadn't shocked him, but he didn't show it, and if he did it had only been for a brief moment.
Even if he wanted to move he couldn't considering the prince still had him pressed firmly against his side. He really didn't want to move, but now that their peaceful bubble had been interrupted, they weren't going to have much time left to enjoy their cuddling, "Suppose that means we're going to have to get up now…" He mumbled. He ignored the comment Sláine made about letting Eurion go through him. It hadn't even been the twin that had stopped him from killing the brother, it had been the witch - Aideen, apparently- who had stopped him. Sláine had just rocked up at a later point.
Eurion didn't stop himself from feeling the twinge of disappointment that flooded his senses at the idea that he would have to move away from the prince. He wanted to ignore it. He wanted to pretend that he didn't want the warmth and comfort he provided, his hands around his waist and on his cheek and chin. It would be better for the both of them if they never spoke or touched or got this close again, but he wouldn't deny how good it felt to have been tucked into the prince's chest and knowing that someone was there to hold him, protect him, comfort him. Something about how they fit together was right, even if he didn't want to admit it.
Sláine made a noise of disgust at the thought of getting up. He always hated the process of mentally saying goodbye to his bed, his comfort zone, and resigning himself to inns and the earthen floor. But this time, he hated what it meant. Leaving Eurion, the quiet and cuddly Fae terrified of the Gods, and once again facing his assassin. The prince wouldn't be able to just grab onto the man whenever it seemed like Eurion needed it, or fold him into his arms in the dead of night. He wouldn't be able to have the privilege of being looked at the way the assassin had done so earlier. It was shitty, but such was life. Connections never lasted long in the grand scheme of things, no matter how much you wanted things to stay the same.
Still. One last indulgence. Maybe he would be able to get Eurion's mind off of the Gods for even just a short while.
The prince had a spark of mischief in his eyes right before he moved again—except this time, it was to roll on top of Eurion. He held himself up off of the man, of course, but his grin was back with a flash of his canines. "Bit of free advice: brace yourself now while you can. We're a bit of a handful." Probably why his cousin didn't care that they were leaving. A bit of quiet within the palace would do the king some good, especially with how the nobles weren't happy with him being the ruler rather than one of the twins. Sláine knew he was tolerable enough right now, if a bit excited for the festival and putting it on to distract Eurion, but he was self-aware enough to know that he got worse in the presence of his brother. And Aideen would make it her mission to piss off the assassin at least once a day.
Eurion huffed, now trapped between the bed and the prince. That would be the second time now within the last few hours that he’d been squished by a total stranger, at least this time it wasn’t on the floor- or by complete surprise, which made it tolerable. Considering it was also Sláine who was turning out to be a lot better to be around than he had thought, it was probably why he didn’t immediately push him off and flip them around. He was bigger, he could if he wanted to, and he was tempted if only to prove that he wasn’t a scared piece of shit that needed coddling, but he held off for the time being.
“I can already tell you’re all going to be insufferable.” Mainly Aideen. The way she had smiled and had that cocky look on her face yesterday told Eurion all he needed to know about the witch. She was going to be the pain in his ass the whole trip and it would take a good amount of patience and self control to not bite her ear off or cut her tongue out in the end. He doubted Caoimhe would appreciate if the assassin hurt his lover. He also figured that if he found out his brother and the assassin had been holding each other like long time lovers, that wouldn’t go down well, either.
Lifting his hands up he placed them on Sláine’s chest and pushed, flipping them back the other way until Eurion was on top and practically straddling the prince, “You especially.” The barest hint of a smile graced his lips to indicate he was joking, if only to try and return the playfulness the other had given him. As much as he wasn’t versed in all… this, he would still try for both their sakes rather than being a brute. To the other two well, Eurion hadn’t made it that far in deciding if the curtesy would extend to them. Probably not anytime soon.
Oh. Sláine was delighted. Had he been given the time, he was going to get off so that they could start getting dressed and ready to leave. Eurion's statement about them being insufferable just made the prince snicker, unable to defend himself and unwilling to defend the other two. He knew it, just as everyone else did. There was no denying how easy it was to recognize how insufferable the twins could be. Adding Aideen to the mix had only amped up the antics even more, thought Caoimhe tended to be a frequent target of his guard and was more occupied by fending her off than his usual terrorizing.
But then hands on his chest distracted him, and he was flipped with ease. Eurion stared down at him, saying something—but he was smiling. Sláine blinked up at the assassin as he tried to peel his gaze off of the man's lips. His own smile was broken up by him biting the corner of his lip, as if he could somehow suppress it that way. "Oh really?" he challenged, finally able to look up and meet Eurion's eyes. His arms lazily rested above his head, wrists crossed, as he let the assassin keep him trapped beneath him. "What makes you say that? I'm innocent."
Maybe… maybe he could steal this Eurion away for himself. Maybe he could wrangle it into some way that he could have the assassin to himself, and they could go back to this. The comfort. The seeming familiarity between them. The assassin that would curl up into his chest. Maybe he could keep bringing it back, even if he knew it would ultimately kill him to part ways afterwards. Eurion wouldn't want to keep up contact once the whole thing was over, and they didn't need each other anymore. But Sláine was never one to coddle himself, and maybe that was a bad thing, because he set himself up for pain. He'd take it, though, just to steal away moments like this.
Eurion snorted, and he let himself grow the smile as he rolled his eyes at the prince, “Innocent maybe in most things, still guilty of being an ass though.”
How long had it been, if ever, that he had allowed himself to actually smile and laugh with another person? But not smiling in the way that he did when something awful was about to go down due to his actions, or when he planted seeds in the heads of men that came into the taverns he stayed at on the road until they broke out into a fight and he got to watch. No, a genuine smile caused by another person. And a laugh, too, of all things. It surprised the assassin more than anything, he’s forgotten what it had sounded like to his own ears. But here his was, straddling one of the most beloved princes, one of the men he had come to kill and leave his room a mess of blood and limbs to prove to his patrons that the deed had been done. Instead, he had spent half the night in his arms, and now the morning the exact same way.
Baffled was an understatement, but he was far from disliking it, even if when they left this room they’d go back to pretending nothing ever happened. The moment would stick with him despite what he might have told himself in other cases. Even if for the rest of the journey they never spent another moment like this, only speaking of the path ahead, whether or not they did actually attend the festival like they had said, at least for now, Eurion felt like he was normal.
Whether it was a prince now lying underneath him and giving him a look that Eurion did not want to think about right now due to the implications of it all, it was a sliver of what a normal life may have been like had he decided to decline the Gods. But in a way, if he had, he never would have been in this position with Sláine, so he supposed it wasn’t all bad in the end.
"An ass?" Sláine was having far too much fun for it being the morning. The prince arched his body as if meaning to buck the assassin off of him, but didn't, just dramatically huffed and dropped back to the mattress. He couldn't even muster up a false look of offense, his grin bullying itself into place and refusing to budge. "You wound me; I've been nothing but a gentleman."
He liked this. He liked Eurion laughing and smiling as he teased the prince, straddling him as if uncaring of the position they were in. Weren't they supposed to be getting up to start getting ready to leave? He'd forgotten already, and quite frankly didn't care to remember. The last time Sláine had felt this comfortable and happy with a person, it had been ages ago, and it was a fleeting moment of his life. One little thing destroyed it; gone, like dust in the wind. The prince wanted Eurion to stay just a little longer, to be a slightly larger impact in his life, but he knew that was wishful thinking. They had such different lives that it was hard to see them ever overlapping long enough to matter.
But for now, he'd enjoy it. He'd tease and comfort and give the assassin the joy of a festival while he could, and enjoy it to the fullest.
And maybe the looks he was giving made things difficult for them both, but he was a man that tended to want nothing, until something came along. He couldn't help himself. The prince had no idea what exactly he wanted with the assassin, but he did know he liked this, and that's what he wanted to keep. Selfish. He was beyond selfish for it. Eurion was his own person, with his own wants, and didn't have the obligation to cater to Sláine's wants. The prince really had no right to be doing anything that would complicate things or put pressure onto the man. Fuck, had he been doing that all along?
"You didn't actually have a choice, Your Highness," Not entirely wrong. When it had come down to who and where Eurion had had to stay after they had agreed to the little plan he and Aideen had made, Sláine wasn't given many options. They had all known, really, that when it came down to who had to watch the assassin it would have been him, but what they hadn't accounted for was how the two had shifted in dynamic so fast when fear had presented itself to him.
But, the prince had a choice in how he had helped and treated him last night. He had no obligation, no contract that said he had to help. He could have left Eurion in the state he had been in. Sláine chose to give him the tea. He chose to sit by him. He chose to hold him, and the assassin had let him. Eurion had let the prince comfort and hold and touch in places no one had held him or felt his skin since his mother, probably. No one had wrapped him in an embrace for the evening, had been playful and teasing and grinning at him as if they were friends, good friends, or maybe something else.
Yet here they were, with the assassin sitting comfortably on the prince's lap, hands pressed firmly against his chest and they were both looking at each other as if they had been like this for years on end. Gods, Eurion was smiling for the first time in years due to someone else- a real ass smile that had bloomed. It almost looked out of place considering his usual, almost permanent frown, but no, not with Sláine. The moment they separated from the bed it would be strange again, and they would have Aideen and Caoimhe around and even Eurion didn't know what to do from there- what he wanted, or needed, from the prince. How they were going to navigate this new difference between them that had grown in an instant, "Besides, I highly doubt you're such a gentleman, as you claim, you have to prove it before you earn that title." Eurion's voice was silky and soft and far too casual and playful for an assassin, but he didn't care, not anymore, not right now.
The prince had never really liked titles, a big reason why Aideen hardly used them with the twins unless it was to be snarky. But his eyes scrunched up in amusement when Eurion did it. Your Highness. He had called him such the night before, when telling him his name. Maybe it was the fact that the assassin tossed it out there carelessly, heedless of the weight behind such a title. He certainly didn't hold that same respect at the moment, comfortably seated on Sláine's lap and holding him down. And the prince shouldn't have enjoyed it as much as he was.
Among those within the palace, it was no secret that the royal family was rather forgiving with people considered to be "scum" or lower class, undeserving of the time of the royals and high society. One of the many complaints the noble families had about Azriel, how he "allowed" the tomfoolery to persist. But they hadn't touched on assassins, that was for sure. They were old news, just yet another thing to deal with and move on from, but they weren't people that they regularly took to bed. Even Sláine making him the tea, giving him the prince's bed, all the forms of comfort he provided that ultimately led to this moment would be frowned upon. But he didn't care. The prince was someone that believed in the stories of perfect matches. Perfect friends, perfect lovers, perfect family—not necessarily blood related. The kinds of connections that just clicked. Eurion had shown up to kill him, but was now smiling and laughing and calling him an ass. There had to be something to be said of that.
The prince tossed his head back in mock offense, horns digging into his arms and the pillow, and chin jutted defiantly. His ever-lasting grin didn't help him, but he chose to ignore it in favor of his little tantrum. "Is that a challenge? You dare question my title as a gentleman?" he asked, and as his eyes danced with mirth, he did nothing to fight against the hold Eurion had on him. A prince, submitting to an assassin that had him pinned down. Ridiculous, but very real. "I can be good." Can be, keywords. The laughter dancing across his expression said otherwise, even if it brightened the golden freckles sparkled across his skin.
"I do, I do dare." Amusement was written on Eurion's face as clear as day, a very, very rare expression that graced its presence only in the few moments that he found himself in between jobs, and even then, it wasn't because of something like this. The teasing and playfulness he had with the prince and the fact that he was actively engaging and enjoying it was strange, but Eurion liked it more than he should have. It was what kept him sitting in Sláine's lap when they should be getting up and ready, and had him smiling and warming in the cheeks.
Considering the other two were most likely preparing for the day ahead- packing, possibly- and the assassin and the prince were still in bed, teasing one another, Eurion knew that he should get off Sláine. But his better judgement was failing him, as it had continued to do so the last few hours when it came down to it. The prince had him in a way no other person had ever tried or dared in his entire life, and the fact that Eurion was actually enjoying it was a whole different story. So, until Sláine kicked him off or his twin made himself known to them again, it only felt right that he stayed where he was, making himself comfortable on the prince's lap with little intent to move as of yet. Five minutes, surely, they could allow for that.
Eurion couldn't help the way Sláine had a part of him that he had forgotten about rising to the surface. It shouldn't feel right to be in such a way with him, knowing their positions to one another, knowing Eurion was going to try and kill him last night and knowing they were nothing but strangers. It shouldn't, but it did, "You're going to have to prove it otherwise I'll never believe you."
Sláine scoffed, rolling his eyes at Eurion and his words. "After all I've given you? A bed fit for royalty to sleep in, my precious tea, a nice place to sit—I could have you tried for treason for this slander." Gods, Eurion looked stunning with pink-warm cheeks and a smile softening his features. Happy. The assassin looked happy, or at least amused enough to be close to it, and it made Sláine's heart soar. The sight alone had his chest aflutter and conflicting feelings taking up a war, but the most prominent was how infectious and addictive Eurion's joy was. The prince would happily overdose on it if it meant keeping the man that way.
They can wait a little longer. Sláine didn't know when he'd be able to have Eurion all to himself again, and a growing part of him demanded he side of the assassin to himself. Anytime they stopped in inns, he'd selflessly volunteer to share a room with Eurion, and perhaps sneak in some time after dark, when his brother and Aideen settled down to sleep. It wouldn't be the same, he knew, but it was something, and he was eager. Perhaps eager wasn't the right word, though. He didn't want to leave this particular moment, but he was looking forward to whisking the assassin away in secret corners and behind doors. Just for a little, so that he could have something for himself.
His fingers from where he had trapped his hands beneath his own horns, as if showing that he was innocent and behaving. "What would you have me do?" Then the prince decided against behaving and freed his wrists in order to settle his hands on Eurion's knees; as if having the assassin literally in his lap and leaning on his chest wasn't contact enough. "If I'm not gentlemanly enough for you, what shall I do to prove myself? Your wish is my command."
“You should have had me tried for trying to kill you, but slander is where you draw the line?” Eurion laughed, the sound ringing through the chambers as his face crinkled with the motion. Totally and utterly insane this whole situation was. Sláine was totally fine with the idea that Eurion had tired to come and kill him and hadn’t mentioned anything about that, but no, it was treason for slandering the prince.
When his hands settled on his knees, the warmth that had bloomed in his cheek darkened, although he ignored it out of fear it was only going to get worse from there. It was all new to Eurion, and he wasn’t quite sure where to start with it all. He’d never been afraid of being embarrassed, but when it came to Sláine, something about him and how they were now had him wanting to try, to not make a fool of himself in case whatever this was go south. His heart was leaping and he was blushing and sitting in the prince’s lap with him looking up at him like, well, he liked it. The thought made things all the worse in his cheeks, and he tried his best to shake the thoughts away. But it was difficult when it was hard to look away from Sláine - from his eyes to his lips, how soft his skin looked and felt and how he was now holding his knees.
Eurion moved his hands down Sláine’s chest, settling them gently, if almost slightly unsure, on top of his hands. He didn’t quite know what to say, he wasn’t exactly an expert in how to be a gentleman, in fact, he was pretty much the opposite, really. So, all the could really do was shrug, knowing he didn’t exactly have an answer, “Well… I suppose you’ve been fine enough…”
"No harm done," the prince assured, positively enraptured with a laughing Eurion at this point. "I'm still here, aren't I? Now you're stuck finding out why we should be killed. But spreading lies just ruins my precious reputation, and I've worked so hard to build it into what it is." He bore his canines in a playful little snarl, snapping his teeth for an extra flourish. "Can't have anyone finding out I'm a scoundrel."
All things considered, the prince honestly hadn't meant to fluster Eurion with his move. It had been a natural movement for him, a shift in his position to be more comfortable, and he preferred he be holding something rather than having his limbs lying limp. But it took no time to have red blooming over the assassin's cheeks, darkening by each second the man didn't speak. He'd gone quiet, and Sláine had seen the Fae get lost in his thoughts often enough to recognize the shift. He regretted it immediately, as it took the unfiltered mirth away from his expression with only scraps left behind—still better than before, but not as brilliant as it just was—and he nearly pulled away to keep the touch between them on the assassin's terms. But then he felt the hands on his chest sliding down, and he froze for a moment. Waiting. Giving Eurion the space to do what he wanted without being influenced or pressured. Soon enough, hands settled on top of his. His skin warmed from the touch.
Sláine cocked his head and eyed the blushing assassin, who was now oddly subdued with his response. "Have I done something?" he asked, checking in with Eurion. Lines could be toed to a point. He didn't want to cross any. Eurion might have responded physically, but that didn't mean anything if his mind was elsewhere.
Eurion was quick to shake his head, maybe even too quick, “No! No, no Gods no.” His hands have Sláine’s a squeeze to signal that he was okay, though he didn’t quite relax them, fingers still securely around the others. Just something else to add to the redness. He was enjoying all this, the pink in his cheeks was only due to the fact that it had been a long time since he had been in the position, and with the prince of all people- that definitely didn’t help how he was feeling.
He wasn’t going to admit that, however, maybe not even to himself at this point. All he knew was that this was nice, it was nice and he liked it. He liked how their hands and bodies fit together, how he felt comfortable in the prince’s lap and it felt far too good for what it should be and who they were. It was mainly that thought that had him thinking that maybe they should stop, but his gaze was too fixed to the prince, his body was still and relaxed and comfortable how it was, and he didn’t want to move. Had they not have to get up and ready he would have- probably- asked to stay like this for the whole day and almost beg for Sláine to forget his princely duties for the day if only to fool around and keep living in this bubble for as long as they could and forget the world outside existed.
“Just thinking about how if you’re such a scoundrel then I must be way worse, and you’re stuck with me just as much as I am with you.” But the idea of being stuck together was definitely helping Eurion come to terms with this whole deal.
Sláine didn't want to admit how relieved he was that he hadn't crossed any boundaries unknowingly. Anyone he'd talk to would say he was mad for worrying about the boundaries of an assassin, given their situation. Even Eurion teased him for not caring about being a target of his. But it was hard to think about that when he had the warmth of another hovering over him, or the hands on his squeezing in reassurance, or the weight of someone comfortably on top of him as if made to be there. And that right there set him off on a silent reel of images, many involving Eurion deciding he was the best option for a place to sit while they stopped.
The prince had to look up and away from the assassin. Indecent. He was so incredibly indecent. He flipped his hands, then tangled their fingers together the best they could with their position and squeezed back, but had to remove Eurion from his vision before he got any more ideas. Because, yes, okay, the assassin sent to kill him was gorgeous in the tall, dark, and rough way. But he was also cute, and blushing, and staying planted right where he was despite the deal they had backed him into. Sláine wasn't sorry about the deal, because it meant he had gotten this chance that he wouldn't have had if Eurion ended up on the other end of a sword, but he knew it probably had a sour taste to Eurion. The fact that he was still sitting there said something.
He couldn't resist smiling as Eurion continued, though. "Okay, fine, we're equally stuck with each other." Sláine counted to three, then looked to the assassin again, and his smile twisted upwards even more without his permission. "That just means you've agreed to putting up with this royal ass, as you've so kindly called me, for the foreseeable future. You'll regret it soon enough; I'm a rather pampered and needy prince, of course. I require attention at all times."
“You’re going to have to get used to not having attention all the time, Your Highness, it’s earned, not given where we’re going.” Of course, Eurion knew that if the prince just looked at him the way he had been that he would fold, a thought that, as much as he was opposed to it, especially considering he was an assassin, couldn’t help but liking the more he thought about it.
Because Sláine was bringing out the side of him that no one had seen, and he had coaxed it out of Eurion as if it was easy as clicking his fingers and flipping a switch. Like it wasn’t this big deal that his assassin was far too comfortable on his lap, and was happy there, and definitely did not want to move. How Eurion was thinking about what it would feel like to have Sláine’s hands on his skin in this position, around his waist or hands or legs and it was not helping him try and put distance between them.
After all this was over they would most likely never see each other again, and the thought would have had Eurion frowning had he not been so focused on Sláine and his hands and eyes and how right this all felt. But they were going to have weeks, at minimum, possibly even months considering how shifty the Gods were and the side tracked ideas of festivals, too. Which allowed enough time to figure it out. They had no obligation to think on it now but instead to just enjoy it and tease and play before Caoimhe and Aideen came crashing in and asking what the fuck they’d been doing instead of getting ready.
"Hmm, I have my ways," Sláine hummed, winking up at the assassin with his signature look of mischief. He was sure enough in whatever this was that he'd only have to give Eurion the puppy eyes, or even something as simple as a touch to his hand, to get the assassin's attention. Besides, if his brother and Aideen were annoying enough, Eurion would more than likely default to the prince he was comfortable with, even if it was just a simple act of moving to be side-by-side.
He idly played with Eurion's hands, tracing the lines of his palms and curling their fingers together, as he thought to himself. In the silence, he heard a muffled thump against a wall and his brother's voice shouting, "You dead?" Sláine rolled his eyes and called out his currently still alive state of being, which his twin seemed to take well enough and didn't respond again. Unfortunately, though, it got the prince thinking about their current task and what they needed to do. It pained him to separate from Eurion when it felt like they had no time together. They quite literally had all night, then all morning, to themselves. He shouldn't be so disappointed that their time had to be put on pause. Eurion looked so comfortable perched on the prince's lap that he felt bad even considering making him move. But reality always called them back to face her, and as much as he wanted to deny their responsibilities, they had to come back to the ground.
With a dramatic sigh, Sláine tapped a pinky against Eurion's thigh without breaking his hold on the man's hands. "I think that's our cue," he said, though it was more of a whine than anything. His hands snaked further around Eurion's to hold his wrists. "Got at least a day's travel ahead of us. Hopefully we find an inn along the way." His eyes were mournful as they looked up at Eurion, but the grip he had on him was resistant. The prince didn't want to, and this was as close to a tantrum as Eurion had gotten to witness.
Eurion huffed a little, though he supposed that it was always going to come back. They had had their time, and it had been lovely, and by the grip Sláine had on him, he could tell that he was just as resistant as he was. But, they had a job to do, as always, and all good things had to come to an end eventually. At least this time Eurion didn’t have to disappear back into the shadows, he could stay with the prince, even if they couldn’t hold and touch they way they had been doing now, it was better than nothing, he supposed.
“They’ll be an inn at the end of the day, you don’t have to worry about that, Sláine.” The prince’s name rolled off his tongue before he could even think about it or use his proper title. But just as when the prince said his name it sounded familiar and right, so did his. His words were a promise more than anything else. They would find an inn even if they had to walk an extra few miles to find one.
The mournful gaze Sláine was giving him made it so much harder to move, but their bubble had finally popped, and Eurion, reluctantly, made a move off the prince’s lap even if it was far too comfortable and lovely to be sitting there. His wrists still locked in the others grip made it hard to move far, and the absence of warmth that flooded through him had the assassin feeling cold again despite how warm his cheeks were in comparison to the rest of his body.
Hearing his name falling from the lips of his assassin shouldn't have made his chest feel like it was caving in from the rapid thumping of his heart. Sláine bit his lip as his smile threatened to bloom into a ridiculously pleased grin, but his reaction still sparkled in his eyes. "I'm holding you to that," he murmured, then let Eurion's hands slip through his grasp so the assassin could get up without being subjected to a pouty royal. The statement had felt like a promise, and he so desperately wished that it would hold true and fulfilled. He already missed having Eurion in his space; the air around him felt almost empty.
The prince took the newfound freedom to stretch out his body, now that he didn't have a man bigger than him pinning him down. Any minor aches or stiff joints sorted themselves out, with a few grunts of satisfaction from Sláine. But he couldn't keep himself away from Eurion for long. His gaze fell onto the man, and it snagged on the clothes the assassin had donned for the night. They were close enough in size that, despite the height and build difference, everything evened out to make his clothes fit nicely on the Fae.
"You're free to raid my wardrobe for anything you might want to borrow for the trip. Or even keep, I don't care." Amusement leaked into his tone no matter how innocent he tried to make himself out to be. "Because I'm that much of a gentleman." If those two hellions questioned him, he'd say it was because he wanted to keep their guide properly clothed with fresh garments. It wasn't as if he couldn't have new ones made if he was really hard-pressed for the ones Eurion might take, if any at all.
Eurion snorted a laugh, looking over his shoulder at the prince from where he was headed to change back into his clothes from yesterday, “Oh shut the fuck up before I throw them at you.” There was no malicious intent in his voice, just playful giddiness as he hid his smile by turning away. He stripped himself of the shirt, muscles and tattoos rippling at the movement as he undressed.
He probably would take Sláine’s offer of raiding the wardrobe, only because his clothes were much nicer than his own. They’d have to make a stop at the inn he’d payed for just to get his shit. He wasn’t going to leave it all here, not when it would definitely get stolen and he had some valuables in there. Along side a couple extra daggers and knives he hasn’t brought along. He reminded himself that he needed to get Aideen to give those back. He had no doubt they would be needing them at some point along the way, especially when dealing with the Gods and all the other creatures that roamed around.
“I might take a couple but I’ll need to grab my gear from the inn on our way out.” Eurion said without looking to Sláine. On top of the princes clothes being nice and comfortable, they smelt like him, too, and after being in his bed and arms, he’d rather not let that go, either. But, for the sake of travelling, he’d need his own gear on, at least for a while, just to make sure everything was in order and he had all of his stuff accounted for.
Was it bad that Sláine wanted to trace those tattoos and lines of muscle? Probably. The prince rolled over onto his stomach and hugged a pillow to his chest so he could bury the bottom half of his face in it. He had all eyes on the shifting lines of ink, and all ears for the assassin's laugh. "Ooo, profanity in the presence of the crown and threat of violence. You're really tallying up those offenses."
But as much as he wanted to watch and admire the strength of the man that had just been in his bed, and however much he joked about being a gentleman, Sláine wasn't about to subject Eurion to lack of privacy while changing. With a small huff of contempt, the prince rolled back over and off of the bed, keeping his back to the assassin to be polite and not creepy. The clothes he pulled out and tossed to the side for later were well-worn but sturdy travel clothes. Fitted brown leather trousers and black knee-high boots with thick soles, with a billowy light tan button-up shirt. Next to get tossed was a thick belt that would cover most of his stomach, the shirt meant to be cinched underneath. A decorative sheet of tan fabric hung from the middle of the belt and would fall between his legs down to his knees, black embroidery thick along the edges. And lastly, he snagged a coat that matched the black and tan theme, but this time it was all black with tan embroidery and decorative swirls at the cuffs. They all joined the pile on the bed so that he could grab them while he got undressed.
As Sláine got to work undressing as well, shrugging off his shirt to replace it with the button-up, he hummed in acknowledgement of Eurion's words. "Of course." He rolled up his sleeves and fastened them to his elbows, then glanced back over to his assassin. "I had already assumed that would be our first stop; wouldn't want to deprive you of your things. Ah—If Aideen doesn't give you back what she stole before we make it to the markets, best be quick before she finds a seller willing to pay. She's sneaky like that."
"If you have a problem with my offences you should do something about it then." A soft challenge, even though they didn't need any other distractions. They had spent enough time lazing around this morning. Eurion didn't want to call it wasting time because it wasn't, but it was a distraction when they needed to get ready. They had long days ahead of them, especially if they wanted to make it into the Fae lands for the festival, among raiding the library for some more books that might help them when it came to figuring out what the Gods wanted the markerstones for.
His own clothes probably needed to be replaced at this point. The brown leather that wrapped around his elbows and needed for extra support had been worn down enough that it didn't really do anything or add any extra protection that they may have done in the beginning. Brown, tight trousers with far too many pockets, his shirt to match. The only parts of the clothes that looked relatively new or in better condition were his blue cape that he wore to hide his face, the thing having shitty patch jobs in the fabric from where Eurion had tried his best to fix it, and his boots. To him, the two most important things had to be kept up. The boots for practicality, the cape for more sentimental reasons. Most of his clothes were in the same condition. Worn down, probably had a few patch jobs that he had fixed over the years but hadn't taken much care for and should have been replaced a long while ago. A small reminder of who he was, especially now that he was out of the prince's clothing and back into his own.
At Sláine's words about Aideen, he turned around a little with his usual frown, "If she sells them you're buying them back." Half of those daggers had been gifted to him- some from the Gods throughout the years, some from old friends, his parents before they passed, the others had been ones he had brought himself, letting himself buy something nice. They shouldn't have been sentimental, but they were.
Eurion's soft challenge caught the prince's attention. No, just not caught—stolen. Sláine paused in the middle of dressing when a litany of ideas bombarded his mind. None of them he'd do, of course, mostly because of time. Biting his lip, face warming some, the prince quickly turned away and finished getting dressed. The coat was left on the bed for later. "Maybe. We'll see."
The belt around his waist wasn't all decoration and looks. Sláine hooked his swords through the belt loops of his trousers like normal, but then he opened a locked chest with a key that appeared in his palm, and inside was a collection of smaller weapons meant for hiding. He grabbed a matching set of obsidian throwing knives, which blended in with his black waist belt as he went through the process of sliding them into hidden sheathes. The edges were sharp enough that the prince, used to handling weapons, was careful with them as he handled each one. The last one he pulled out didn't get put away, but rather got the blade wrapped in its own little leather cover and set off to the side. Sláine closed the chest, locked it, and magicked the key away once more before standing and heading over to Eurion, protected knife in hand.
Up close to the assassin, Sláine was suddenly overly aware of the height difference. It wasn't much, but Eurion was tall enough that the prince had to look up. He ignored whatever feelings were fluttering about his chest, and the fact that his face stubbornly held onto the heat in his cheeks and across his nose, and held out the knife with a soft smile. "Consider it done," he assured. "That's unfortunately the hazards you run into when hiring thieves off the streets. Technically, the knights took her in before we got her, but she's still got sticky fingers and an eye for value. I'll make sure you get your things back, though."
Eurion nearly smirked, and as much as he suppressed the action, it did flicker across his lips for a brief moment before it disappeared once more. It wasn’t hard to notice the redness in Sláine’s face, just as Eurion’s had looked only a short while earlier, but it made it easier when he now wasn’t cuddled up or sitting on top of the prince. No, he was at full height, and as much as he loved being held the way Sláine had done, it did feel nice to have a bit of an advantage now they were standing. He couldn’t help but find it slightly funny that he had to tilt his head down to look at him, but he didn’t mention it, though humour danced in his eyes even if his face didn’t show it.
“I refuse to walk around with you three without my weapons.” Especially when they would be fully armed. It didn’t help that their magic was stronger than his, so even without his daggers and knives and bow he prayed was still secure in the inn, it wasn’t exactly a fair fight if things turned sour within the group. He was, however, a little hesitant when taking the knife from Sláine, only because it felt strange to be doing so. He weighed it in his hands, feeling the handle and the blade carefully as he had done so with every other weapon he had ever held. Expertly made, and gorgeous.
Eurion didn’t say anything else as he made sure he had all his things, and the book, before heading for the door. He wasn’t going to waste anymore time in case Aideen had done something sneaky with his shit and he wasn’t going to put it past her from now the prince spoke about the guard. He felt bare without them, and was only becoming far too aware of the absence of the weights around his waist and legs at the lack of metal he carried.
