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

Started March 15, 2023 by @ElderGod-kirky group

tune

Eurion resisted the urge to fight the prince on the fact that he would be fine without the painkillers, even if he knew that wasn’t the case. But he took a couple regardless because he did need them. It would make things easier in the long run if he wasn’t worried about moving too fast or twisting the wrong way and pulling on the wound. Either way, he swallowed a couple and slung his bag around to place the remaining few away safely in case they needed them again.

He figured they would, but tried not to dwell on the thought of any of them getting injured again. The chances were high but now wasn’t the time to be thinking about that. Not when the brothers were talking about witch hunters.

“We don’t need any more trouble along the way.” He said over his shoulder.

That includes arguments between the group, too. Eurion didn’t look at Aideen, but the woman had started yesterdays dilema between them with her strong opinions and lack of social awareness. He was hoping it wouldn’t happen again today but somehow he figured it would.

His mind was focused on other things, like making it to their next resting point without trouble, without arguments or night stalkers or anything of the sort and the brothers talking about witch hunters was a bad omen in his mind. They didn’t need any bad luck, but Eurion was a bad luck charm and nothing ever went his way.

Aideen ignored Eurion's barb, only because Caoimhe had spoken with her about the incident and explained that she was definitely in the wrong. She didn't like it, especially with how the twins had pulled rank on her and she still thought herself to be right, but she kept her trap shut and did exactly what she was told to do—leave Eurion alone. Caoimhe was friendly to the assassin, warming up to the other's presence and cold attitude, but didn't make an active effort to engage Eurion in conversations when it was clear that the man wasn't in the mood for such a thing.

Sláine also kept his distance, however much it hurt to stay away. It was made easy by his twin hanging off of him for most of the trip and excitedly chattering about this and that. It distracted him from the pull he had towards the assassin leading the way, and lifted his mood as the hours went by. Aideen popped in here and there, but was quieter than usual. She spent most of her time scanning the grounds around them, more on edge from the incident in the woods and her gut feeling. Though there was no direct indication that there were any witch hunters around, she didn't want to write the possibility off, no matter how much the group didn't want a bad omen reigning down bad luck.

That was how she caught the exact moment Sláine hit his crash, even when his brother was so close.

"No, no," Caoimhe was saying, insistent that he was right, "because if we can get an army trained in battle alongside beasties, then that's an extra edge we can have."

Sláine was slow to respond, which could've been chalked up to thinking, but his gaze was unfocused and fixated on nothing, with tense lines pulling at the corners. The sun was arching just over the peak of noon. He hadn't made it as far as he wanted, but he was pushing through. "But that would mean extra time to raise and train the beasts, not to mention bonding time. Maybe a small division… but an army is excessive and too reliant on time and resources that aren't viable during a time of war."

Caoimhe frowned and started arguing back, but Aideen cut them off and stopped walking. "We're stopping here for a break. Sláine's crashing." The prince couldn't even muster up the energy to deny it. Now that she had pointed it out, Caoimhe was lifting off of him and noticing the signs, and Sláine was sure that Eurion would notice too.

Eurion had spent most of the walk quiet, barely even joining in the conversation unless there was a direct need for him to do so. It was weird having travelling companions. To be able to hear conversation behind him and not just the quiet of the world around him, the softness and breathing of the earth but someone physically there. Nice, but weird, and he didn't think he would ever really be used to that, no matter how long he ended up travelling with the trio.

When Aideen said they were stopping, Eurion was ready to turn around and argue because they didn't have time to waste out here, but when he heard the reason, his scowl turned more into a worried frown, although he did, for the sake of both him and Sláine, try and hide just how worried he actually was. He had noticed this morning but had hoped the prince wouldn't have lied about just how much sleep he had gotten. Clearly, he was wrong, and as much as he him and the prince had a connection, it didn't stop the twang of disappointment and the thought to once again put his walls up, even around Sláine.

Right now, though, the other was crashing and needed rest, "Let's move off the path." Eurion led the group away from the open road, a little off the path so they weren't out in the open but not deep enough into the woods that they would be in danger. The little clearing would be good enough for now, and Eurion kept a close eye on the prince as they got situated in the clearing, making sure Sláine wasn't going to trip and fall or faint before he properly had the chance to lie down and rest.

Aideen grabbed Sláine and practically dragged him along with them as they exited the pathway, even as the prince complained and insisted he could walk just fine. There was a sinking feeling in his chest unrelated to his exhaustion, and he knew it had to do with whatever Eurion could be thinking about the situation and the question from earlier. As they settled down, in a fit of defiance against the guard and a desperate need for comfort that was more unconscious than anything, he moved over to Eurion.

Caoimhe watched his brother nearly collapse right then and there into the assassin's side, mouth open to warn his twin that it might not be a good idea. But Sláine was already hooking his chin on Eurion's shoulder for support and his eyes were heavy-lidded, now clearly on the verge of falling asleep. So, instead, he quietly asked, "How much?"

Sláine knew what was being asked of him, so he gave the same answer he gave Eurion before. "Some."

"Liar." Aideen sat next to the older prince and hooked an arm over her knee. Her stare was challenging, uncaring that Sláine was fully exposing his exhaustion. "Try again."

But he didn't know how else to answer. How did he explain that the only fit of sleep he got the night before was fleeting and constantly interrupted by himself so that he could avoid sinking into dreams, and the last time he had slept was for an hour or so with Eurion in his arms, and nightmares circling his mind? His eyes shut against his will as he mumbled, "…a few hours over the past two days." If the other two didn't hear it, Eurion would, and he could tell them. Sláine was quickly getting dragged down now that he was no longer moving and had the assassin's scent and warmth right next to him.

Motherfucker. Eurion had every mind to scold Sláine, for both lying and not resting when he should have been. But right now he was sure that whatever he said would go mostly unnoticed and registered considering how the prince was falling asleep on his shoulder. As they sat, as Eurion leaned against the nearest tree for support and watched as Sláine rested his head in his lap, he tried his hardest to remain as still as possible.

He should move, and use something else that wasn't his leg for a pillow because it was going to cause more harm than good in the long wrong with the questions he would have to face. It was all well and good that Sláine was resting but did he have to use him? Of course, logically, Eurion could tell that the prince didn't care as he was crashing, and the assassin wouldn't lie and say he didn't like knowing that he was a source of comfort for him, but it did have his heart racing, as much as his face remained as unmoving as stone.

"A few hours is not enough over multiple days," Eurion sighed, resting his hand very softly and very carefully on Sláine's back. He'd blame the touch simply on support, but really it was because he wanted to provide as much comfort as he could, no matter how he felt about being lied to. His other stayed holding onto his bow, just in case he had to defend and protect his prince while he slept, "We'll just have to make up the lost time over the next few days."

If they woke early, didn't stop until late they would still be able to stick to the desired time frame, but he doubted they would. As long as they made it to Dalthia before the festival, then it wouldn't be an issue.

"He won't sleep for long." Caoimhe was eyeing the two of them, but his concern mostly lied on his twin for the time being. He could question whatever that was later. Sláine was completely out within seconds of getting comfortable, and he doubted that his brother had heard a single word the assassin had said. Caoimhe sighed and leaned against a nearby tree, with Aideen curling up under his arm in a space that she fit perfectly. "Two hours tops, maybe three if we're lucky."

Aideen hummed and got comfortable. "It's normal," she explained to Eurion. She would've kept going, but it felt more like a situation that the prince had to talk about rather than her, especially from yesterday's fiasco.

With a sigh and a mixed expression fixated on his face, Caoimhe elaborated. "He does this. Can't sleep for a while, then takes quick naps during the day. When he crashes like this," he added with a gesture to the passed out prince, "it's usually when it's bad. I just… I don't know the full extent of it. He doesn't like talking about it." Which he understood why. Caoimhe knew it was a residual effect from Seiger, but he had never really been allowed to know what the old king had put his twin through to make him develop a sleep disorder. Sometimes he woke up with severe nightmares from several times in his past, but Sláine would go forever without even attempting to get a full night's sleep.

"Surely you've noticed something," he said, looking over at Eurion after staring at his brother for some time. Caoimhe gestured vaguely in their direction. "Clearly he's comfortable enough with you for some reason, and you've been in the same room overnight as him. Has he said or done anything?" Caoimhe's concern for his brother overruled his confusion and skepticism over their relationship. He could interrogate the assassin after seeing if there was anything about his baby brother he had missed. Though, he was deeply interested in the cause for Sláine to make his potential assassin a pillow, when he could've laid on the ground or even the two that were his family.

Eurion tried to not let his gaze linger on Sláine for too long. His heart didn’t stop racing, especially with the look that Caoimhe was giving them both. He could tell that something was up but he was lucky that he didn’t question the two of them. Well, him, because Sláine had passed out so fast once he had been comfortable that he was sure he heard none of what was being said. At least he was sleeping, Eurion was glad of that. It didn’t stop his worry and he knew he would continue to worry about it for a good long while.

When he looked to Caoimhe his gaze was as if everything was normal, despite what was going on inside his chest, “No, he hasn’t said anything.” He replied. Because he hadn’t. The prince had pretended like everything was fine, has said the first night he had been going to watch Eurion - which had been the smart idea at the time - and had only fallen asleep afterwards for a couple hours after the visit from the Old Gods, “Just said he had ‘some’ sleep last night.”

Some had been barely anything. Eurion could only presume it was less than an hour or so from just how fast he had crashed. His worry increased at thought. As much as he was angry at the other for lying to him, he didn’t let it show, and he would talk to Sláine later when they were in private and away from the other two to have that talk.

“Nightmares, I think,” He continued, “The first night he did, well, I believe he did.” The way he had woken up with such a jump, how Sláine’s breathing had picked up and Eurion had felt his heart rate increase, there was no way it wasn’t. Even if he hadn’t been told directly Eurion knew all too well what it was like, so it was obvious and as clear as the sun rising.

Nightmares. Of course. But how bad did they have to be for him to have such a horrid relationship with sleep? There had to be something else going on, but it would seem Eurion didn't know any more than Caoimhe did, minus the assumption of nightmares. What had Seiger done to his brother when he wasn't looking? The prince swore under his breath, and Aideen squeezed his thigh in silent comfort. It wasn't going to be a mystery solved just like that, but it was still frustrating how secretive Sláine could be about things regarding himself.

But speaking of secrets and Caoimhe not looking—if he couldn't figure out why his brother wasn't sleeping as he should, then Caoimhe could target the next best thing. He watched, amused and concerned, as Sláine cuddled closer into Eurion's space, as if seeking out the other's warmth. Then Caoimhe's gaze flicked up, and he didn't know if he should play concerned big brother, let himself find humor in the situation, or start interrogating the assassin they had dragged into this mess. All three modes conflicted with each other, and ultimately stayed at war.

Folding his arms over his chest, the prince arched a brow at Eurion. "Should I be concerned or thankful that you're not stabbing my baby brother for invading your space?" He then jerked a chin at them. "Since when did this happen?" 'This' could mean anything between mutual trust to exactly what was going on, and Caoimhe was interested in seeing what sort of explanation Eurion would go for when faced with the vague wording of the question. Aideen's stare was less amused and more calculating. Even as she was curled up into the prince's side and buried away, her eyes were hard and stern.

Trusting Sláine to handle himself while sharing a room with the assassin was one thing; that, they could easily accept. But this was different from a truce. Either the prince had collapsed into the nearest person without any regard for who it was or his safety—or he truly trusted in Eurion to not hurt him while he was in such a vulnerable state. And neither Caoimhe nor Aideen knew what to feel about either one, but especially the latter.

Eurion held the princes stare, because if he looked away he was sure that if he looked away that would raise more questions as to why he was unable to hold his gaze. If there was nothing going on then there would be nothing stopping him from holding that stern, calculating gaze.

Eurion huffed a sigh through his nose. He may as well tell at least some what of the truth about what happened on the first night if Sláine hadn’t told them everything, “Look, the Old Gods aren’t exactly gentle when it comes to how they relay their messages,” A small shrug, “Sláine was there and it makes it easy to be okay with someone when they help you recover from that kind of invasion.”

He left it at that because he didn’t particularly talk about the incident, how bad it got when the Gods took his mind and conscious into their hands and manipulated it however they wanted. Either way, Sláine had been there, Sláine had helped and that was the truth. He could also say he was just repaying the favour for the prince helping him by, therefore, being a pillow for the other now that he needed it. Favour for a favour, debt for a debt, and totally not because there was something deeper doing on that they didn’t know about.

Aideen cocked her head in intrigue, while Caoimhe's gaze softened some. "My brother's always secretly had a soft heart." When in battle or on a mission, he could be detached and ruthless if need be, but Sláine had always found the ones in need to help, no matter what he was doing. As surprising as it was to hear that Eurion suffered something from the Gods enough that Sláine stepped in, he wasn't all that surprised to hear that his brother had in fact stepped in. "I won't ask, because I can tell you don't want to talk about it," he ignored Aideen's elbow in his side, "but are you okay now?"

It made sense, to return comfort with comfort, but there still wasn't exactly something adding up. Eurion hadn't been the one to offer himself as a person to lean on—it was Sláine that had chosen him and his lap to lay on. A simple exchange of repayment would've been a good excuse for it had they communicated beforehand about it. But they didn't. So Sláine's level of comfort with the assassin was still on the table to discuss. He didn't just rely on anyone, and it was a questionable decision at best to pick the one person who had tried to kill him as the one to watch over him.

Of course, Eurion still had his bow in hand, as if ready to defend when need be. Perhaps the assassin wasn't as keen on killing the twins now. When he thought about it, Eurion had teased Sláine alongside Caoimhe the day before. Perhaps the two had formed a sort of friendship in the time they've spent sharing a room. If Sláine never slept much, then he'd have plenty of time to talk with Eurion. Caoimhe's head spun with possibilities, and as much as they all made sense, there was just one thing that always poked a hole into them, and he couldn't put his finger on what was going on—and Eurion's blank expression did nothing to give anything away. It was frustrating, and Caoimhe hoped that the assassin cracked at some point, gave away just something for the prince to add to the puzzle.

In response to Caoimhe's question, all Eurion could really do was shrug. Truth be told he wasn't okay, but lying to both himself and others was what he was good at, so even he had managed to convince himself that he was fine enough, at least for now. The Gods had always been intense, more so when he got older, and it always heightened when they wanted something desperately. Generally, it wasn't too bad, well, not bad enough to warrant more than a day or night of semi-recovery, but there were always those days, those times, when things got out of hand. Eurion had a feeling that one of those moments would arrive sooner rather than later considering the intensity of the previous visit, but he could never know for sure.

"I've had a day to recover. I'm okay. What about you two?" He was mainly referring to yesterday's incident. Caoimhe had said they hadn't used the painkillers since their injuries hadn't been significant enough for them to need it, but, he figured he may as well ask. If they were going to be stuck with each other when Sláine was out of the picture, Eurion was going to have to learn how to make conversation as much as it pained him on the inside.

Even though the assassin's face remained a mask of unwavering coldness and lack of emotion, his actions, however small, were the giveaway that something was up between both him and the prince. Sure, he could say it was a debt being repaid, or them trying to be friends after talking for two nights with lack of sleep for them both, but Eurion wasn't thinking about that. Not when Sláine's loose strands of hair that had fallen out of the bun he had made in the morning were falling on his leg, and Eurion couldn't help but twist the strand around his finger, just to touch. It was mainly hidden by the others head, thank the Gods, but he was sure it would be noticed eventually, when he even noticed he was doing it himself.

Aideen decided to join in the conversation, though she didn't remove herself from her prince's side. If Sláine was going to be comfortable and take a nap, she was going to be at least comfortable as well. Caoimhe uncrossed his arms and slung one over her shoulder to wrap around her waist, keeping her secure—a cute gesture, if he also wasn't afraid of the woman getting up to harass Eurion. "Minor cuts and bruises, nothing we're not used to." Caoimhe nodded in agreement. "I'm guessing you've already been mother henned by Sláine with your injury?" she asked, though from how the prince had fussed to get the bandage on the assassin when it first happened, she had a feeling she already knew the answer to that question.

So far, neither one had noticed Eurion playing with Sláine's hair, even if Caoimhe was trying to piece things together on his own. The sleeping prince didn't even so much as twitch from the feeling. Giving up for now, because it was starting to hurt his head trying to figure it out, Caoimhe waved his hand in a lazy dismissal. "Sláine mother hens. Of course he did. I swear, he's the godfather of so many kids because he fusses over them when he can't find at least one parent."

Aideen rolled her eyes. "That's children. When's the last time he forced you to take care of a wound the moment you could?"

"57th birthday," Caoimhe supplied cheerfully. "I broke a fountain and gave myself a gnarly gash down my side. Except I didn't feel it because I was high in adrenaline, and just plain high. Sláine held me down until the healer arrived to stitch me together. Other than that, I've been quite capable of handling myself, thank you." He stuck his tongue out at Aideen, who rolled her eyes again, and turned back to Eurion with a little grin that might've been sympathetic. "If he keeps hovering and shit and it bothers you, just let us know. We'll knock some sense into him. I get that he gets concerned when people are hurt, but sometimes I think he tries to help the people that don't want help and it frustrates them both. Plus, with you two being roommates and all, it's bound to happen."

Eurion probably needed someone to tell him to take care of his wounds but he wasn’t going to admit it. The time Ren had saved his life from Seiger’s men and the injuries they had inflicted was a clear indication since the assassin had been inclined to simply lie there and take it until he bled out but the bastard and stitched him back together whether he liked it or not. He also wasn’t going to admit to slightly liking the idea of someone taking care of him. After having no one for so long it was a change that he hadn’t expected to liking. Maybe that was just because it was Sláine, though.

“If it gets too annoying we’ll sort it, but cheers.” Eurion doubted if he told Sláine to leave his wounds alone that he would. The prince had made it clear that he wasn’t going to relent this morning and had kept a careful eye on him until he had seen Eurion doing as he was told.

Another small fact that he didn’t care to share. All those secrets between them. Nothing out of the ordinary for him, but Eurion could only wonder if it was the same with the prince. Having no siblings left him wondering about what it may be like to have a brother, and in turn someone who acted as both friend and younger sister. Did Sláine tell them most about his life or kept it a secret? Especially now they were older what was it like now? A conversation for another time, for now, his attention was directed towards the two awake companions.

In favour of turning the conversation away from him, Eurion cleared his throat, “So… how long have you two been…” He gestured to their position.

That was good enough an answer from Eurion that Caoimhe was expecting, so he took it without argument and studied the man a little more. There wasn't anything inherently suspicious, but there was a pulling at his gut that said there was something going on. Too much ease between the two. At this point in their lives, even when not holding the title of princes, assassins were so commonplace that it wasn't all that much of a shock for them to befriend one that got stuck with them. But Sláine was sleeping on said assassin. Pure exhaustion couldn't explain that completely.

It was his returned attention that caught the idle twirling of the prince's hair, and Caoimhe felt a little flutter of triumph, then something else. A bit of protectiveness, a bit of renewed suspicion, and a bit of warmth because maybe that meant Sláine at least had someone else besides the two of them in some capacity. He nearly pointed it out, but Aideen had jumped on the assassin's attempt at diverting the topic elsewhere.

"Not long after meeting," she said. In her hands was one of Caoimhe's rings, and he did a double take at the theft before checking his hand to see that it was, in fact, missing an adornment. The guard had a smug smirk on her lips at both the story and his reaction. "Of course, that was mostly because we had no choice but to be around each other all the time. I saved his ass from an assassin—sloppier than you, it was a pure accident I caught that novice—and the king decided he was tired of his cousin constantly getting himself into trouble. So I was promoted from the knights to personal guard, and he felt instantly in love with me."

"I hated you with a fiery passion," Caoimhe corrected. "You were a pain in my ass and pissed Sláine off more times than I could count on both hands. Not to mention all the thieving you did, you little shit. Still do." Aideen snickered and tried out each of her fingers to find which one she could put the stolen ring on. The prince watched her for a moment, then looked back to Eurion. "About a year or so. Got together maybe a couple of months after she was appointed. Mostly because of the hurtle of how often we got on each other's nerves."

Aideen held out her hand and admired the ring now situated on her thumb, glittering even in the shade of the trees. "I'm just too hot to resist. And you're fun to mess with."

Only a year or so. Eurion thought it had been longer from how the two acted around one another. Of course, they had known each other for a while, which was different, but still, the assassin had thought the two had been affectionate towards one another for a lot longer. He really shouldn’t be too surprised, not when he thought about him and Sláine.

They had known each other for a few days and were already acted like a couple. Sharing rooms, cuddling, kissing, more and now here Eurion was, twirling Sláine’s hair around his finger with one hand and spinning his bow idly with the other. Whether or not Caoimhe had realised or noticed, the assassin didn’t know because he was too focused on Aideen, for once, and the stolen ring that she was now wearing.

Thieves will always be thieves. No one of their nature changed, at least not for good or forever. Just as Eurion would always be a killer, no matter how long he went without doing so, he would also have the title attached to his soul, just as Aideen would always have hers. At least she had a different name in associated with who she was now, Eurion doubted he would ever have that luxury, no matter what happened between him and Sláine.

Still, it meant they weren’t talking about him, and that was good, “How’d you manage to go from hating one another to being together?” Maybe it was because Eurion had little experience with relationships but regardless, no amount of proclaimed ‘hotness’ Aideen may have should stop someone from hating them.

"Hate fucking," Aideen said instantly.

Caoimhe rolled his eyes as she snickered to herself, and flicked her throat right where a deep bite mark was, just for added punishment. "It was more a mixture of forced proximity and a mutual understanding of one another on some levels." Aideen hummed and nodded, though did grab the hand around her waist to start playing with the rings and bracelets he wore. It was a comfortable and habitual act, one that said it's happened regularly enough that Caoimhe held open his hand for her as she traced the jewelry and the lines of his hand and wrist.

The prince, besides that small act, focused on Eurion and didn't otherwise acknowledge his lover's touch. "However much we butted heads, and she dragged me around because I didn't want to tend to certain obligations, there were things that we saw eye-to-eye on. General mischief, messing with visiting nobles who were assholes to my cousin because they're not—" he tossed up air quotes with his free hand, "—'fit to rule their own life, let alone rule a kingdom.' Which is bullshit. Azi suffered through so much shit growing up; it's not his fault their mother was an abusive cunt and a half." Aideen rubbed a spiral into his palm, and Caoimhe calmed down with a sigh. "Sorry. Besides that, I saw it as a challenge to get her to like me, and in the end, it just took letting down guards while in private to connect."

Aideen nodded and smiled a little at the memory. "When we stopped making it our mission to hate each other, it just clicked." Then she grinned over at Eurion and gestured to the sleeping prince in the assassin's lap. "Why so curious? Looking for pointers?"

Eurion supposed that made sense. Everyone was different and it wasn’t a surprise that they ended up this way, if only because they had to be together all the time. Walls were hard to break, he was an expert at building them up and never letting them down again. Well, had been, until Sláine.

And the moment Aideen asked about why he was so curious his hand stilled from where it was twirling the deep red curl and he did his best to not tense. Eurion wasn’t looking for pointers, he didn’t need pointers because the connection that the two of them had was different. Eurion had gone into the mission intending on killing them but had left with a bond that was deeper than just wanting a quick fuck or some entertainment. Sláine was his and he was Sláine’s. Not just in the sense that partners felt that way about their lovers, how Aideen and Caoimhe may feel about each other, but they were made for one another. How the fit together physically and spiritually, so different and yet one in the same.

Because now the thought that Eurion had gone into that palace intending to kill Sláine filled him with dread. If Aideen hadn’t stopped him then… he didn’t want to even think about it, not right now, and not when Aideen was grinning at him like she was.

“Just trying to make conversation,” Was his reply, because he was, and he wasn’t exactly good at it, “Isn’t that what people do when they have to be around each other?”

Almost as if sensing Eurion's distress, Sláine let out a sleepy little noise and nuzzled into the assassin's leg, and his body curled up a little more. He was too far deep into his sleep to know what was going on, but the instant reaction could've fooled anyone into thinking he was conscious. His brother, on the other hand, simply cocked his head and stored that small tidbit away for later. He'd get to the bottom of these two, but not right now. Eurion's response to Aideen's teasing was neutral and smooth—if Caoimhe had been asked the same question while hiding a romance with Aideen, he wouldn't have been as cool and unruffled.

Aideen held her hands up in surrender, still grinning even as she fixed a look of innocence on her face, then dropped them back into her lap and went back to idly tracing Caoimhe's hand. "Fair enough, fair enough," she relented, "Just curious, is all." Eurion did have a point, now that they no longer had Sláine padding the conversation between the two and acting as buffer with Caoimhe, they were forced to make conversation while they waited and rested.

She tilted her head and thought a bit, then decided to give a bit of more in-depth background into how exactly they met. "I was born in another country, where the people weren't fond of witches and magic. My family fled for the legendary shelter of Draíochta Síoraí, but ultimately didn't make it the entire way; I was the only one to make it past the gates. From there, I grew up on the streets. Thieving comes with the territory, as does general mayhem and violence." The guard shrugged and traced a vein up Caoimhe's arm, her voice still holding an airy and flippant tone to it. "Got into a tiff with some knights, but they thought it was entertaining rather than offensive, so they took me under their wing, unofficially adopted me, and I got dragged into knighthood. By the time I got the fancy title, the kingdom had shifted its power from one king to the rightful one, and these two numskulls got crowned First and Second Prince."

"And then she stumbled upon a would-be assassin," Caoimhe sighed heavily, "and lo-and-behold, she's not nearly as well-behaved as I was led to believe. Still find it wildly offensive that I'm in need of a guard."

When the conversation shifted, Eurion didn’t resume his idle twirling for a few moments, especially when Sláine effectively cuddled into his leg further. But it didn’t take long until he returned to the action, to soothe both him and Sláine, it seemed. The twirling was soft, and soon he was massaging the prince’s neck here and there to try and relieve any tension the other might be holding while he slept.

It was an effort to not pull Sláine closer, to adjust so Eurion was sure he was comfortable and okay, to run his fingers through his hair while they spoke. It all seemed a natural thing to do and it was almost impossible to resist the urge to do so. But for the sake of them both, and the assassin’s racing heart, he didn’t. A blessing that he had learned how to mask his features into a cool, natural state of calm- or displeasure, especially with his near permanent frown.

It wasn’t a surprise that Aideen had gotten into a fight with the knights of Draíochta Síoraí, and the corner of his mouth twitched very briefly at the mention of it, and Caoimhe’s comment about how he didn’t need a guard, “Had you not have had Aideen stationed it would have taken longer for you both to get to this point,” He motioned with the tip of his bow to their position, the cuddling, “Take it as a blessing, I suppose,” A small shrug as he surveyed the area, “You wouldn’t be in this mess trying to reach the Old Gods, however, so maybe not an entirely good blessing.”

Even in his sleep, Sláine relaxed under Eurion's soothing touch. It was a subtle thing, not enough for the other two to notice, but Eurion would be able to feel the steadied breathing and lessened tension the more Eurion massaged. With anyone else, there wouldn't have been a reaction from the prince given how unaware of the world he was in his current state. But Eurion wasn't just anyone—he could calm Sláine with just a soft touch, steady him simply by being within his sight. Even in sleep, the prince was incredibly responsive to the assassin.

Thankfully for Eurion, though, Aideen had only been teasing with the insinuation, and Caoimhe chose to let it go for the time being until he could get actual evidence that something else was going on. He still couldn't tell how he felt about any of the possibilities, but a big portion was screaming, 'You have no room to judge,' so he was also hesitant to figure out just how he felt.

Aideen pointed to Eurion in approval, then twisted her head up to look at the prince, who curled his nose. "Yes! See? See? I am a blessing. It's not anyone's fault that you're shit at self-preservation, but you are damn lucky that trait got you stuck with me. He said it himself."

The prince flicked her again, this time earning a displeased hiss. "We are not forgetting the fact that you are also the reason we got dragged here, but I'd rather not get into that again with you." Aideen pouted, and Caoimhe ignored her. Time for his own conversation skills. "So, any family to pass on the legacy of the great servant of the Gods, survivor and champion of the High Witch trials? Surely someone of your prestige has managed to snag a wife, maybe even kids." He tilted his head and added, "Or husband. Partner. I don't judge."

Eurion nearly laughed, and the only give away for any amusement was a slight glimmer in his dark eyes. There was no honour or greatness in what he did, at least not to Eurion. Sure, he was a messenger of the Old Gods, believed to be long gone and that fact alone might have earned him at least some respect. But no, he was an assassin. He killed, murdered, and there was no honour behind that.

“Definitely no wife.” Fuck no on that front. He’d never liked women, had always thought something might have been wrong with him, especially in his younger years, but realised that there was nothing wrong with him and that was fine. It had only taken a couple decades to get to that realisation, and some very awkward moments to figure it out, too, “Definitely no kids. When you kill for a living, it’s not exactly the best occupation for a blooming love life. I don’t think whoever I end up with, my mate, would be so inclined to stay, anyway.”

That possibility had always been a no, at least until Sláine. That instant connection, the pulling and burning to one another, it was different than anything he had ever experienced. The prince had to be his mate, there was no other explanation for such a connection but until he was certain, he wouldn’t say it, not even to him.

Although the complications that came with that realisation were many. Sure, Aideen and Caoimhe were okay and worked out fine, but Aideen had practically redeemed herself when she became a knight, then a guard, but Eurion? His list was long, the blood on his hands wouldn’t fade no matter what he did and so why would Sláine want to stay, no matter their connection?

The prince's lips twitched in humor at the reaction to Eurion potentially having a wife. It was similar to how Sláine acted when proposed a potential suitor, or even given the nudge to start opening up to the idea. It made the assassin all the more likeable to him, that familiarity making it easier and easier to get along with Eurion while they traveled.

But, that humor faded into confusion and curiosity. "Really? What makes you think that?" Sure, Eurion could be a bit temperamental when pushed too far, as Aideen had demonstrated beautifully that first ten minutes of walking, and he seemingly had a permanent scowl on his face no matter what, but he wasn't horrible. He could joke around, was quick on his feet, and Sláine could stand him two nights in a row. Plus, he seemed protective enough, or at least willing to humor the needs of others given his current standing as a royal pillow. Caoimhe couldn't see any reason why someone wouldn't want to be with him.

Aideen had made it abundantly clear at the start of their relationship that she would always be a criminal, always have that identity with her, no matter what armor she donned or what title she bore. She would always been that thief in the streets snatching gold from pockets. Her targets simply upgraded in the amount of gold they wore on them, and she had a prince to have her back. And Caoimhe had never seen a problem with that. She was who she was, and many people took issue with her unorthodox nature, but he loved her all the same. He had fallen for her in the midst of jewelry thefts and threats to cut his throat out if he didn't do what he was told, and soft-spoken admissions of fears and hidden thoughts she kept from the rest of the world. She was Aideen first, and her identities second. Eurion should have faith in his mate's ability to view him the same.

Unless. It visibly clicked in the prince's mind, but his confusion only deepened. "Ah. It's the assassin thing, isn't it? Tell me," Caoimhe leaned forward and gestured to his scythe, which was leaning against the tree on his other side. "what's the difference between an assassin, and a soldier?"

Any flicker of humor was quick to leave the assassin’s eyes at the question, “Theoretically, nothing.” Because really the only difference was who was commissioning the kill. One was from a royal, or at least someone who was viewed as good and had enough power to command an army, a group of soldiers. Assassins? Private. Done of their own accord, but done for the money, mostly. There wasn’t honour in that. It also led to his next question.

“Do you enjoy killing, Your Highness?” Eurion asked. Had Sláine not have been leaning on him, he would have leaned forwards, but he couldn’t. To keep himself calm he kept massaging his prince, for both their sakes, “Every time you do, do you gain a high from watching the fear of the person on the other end of your scythe? From watching them bleed out, beg for their lives? Take your time with it if only to make yourself feel more powerful, because you like it?”

In the end, that was the difference. Eurion enjoyed killing. He loved the fear, the high, the control of it all. It was why he sort out other missions while waiting for the Gods to relay their next message. Why he did it deliberately. Whether or not the Gods were giving him orders or a random man in an inn, the only difference then was the treatment of Eurion himself. He was scared of the Gods, yes, petrified of them, but the fact that he enjoyed what he did had nothing to do with them.

“How do you think someone would react if they learnt that the answer to all those things was yes? That it didn’t matter who was telling you to kill because you’d do it anyway. That you couldn’t stop not because of who was in control, but because it’s fun?”

The prince listened to Eurion, expression unchanging but engaged and unwavering, unflinching, to the man's confessions. Not even a slight cringe or a flutter of an eye. Eurion had all of Caoimhe's attention, and it was heavy. But the moment the assassin laid out his case, made an assumption that would set them apart, a slow grin stretched across the prince's lips. He lounged back against the tree, legs sprawling lazily so he could rest his arms on his knees, and tilted his head. "That's a better answer than I've ever heard before, I'll give you that."

Aideen was watching with hawk eyes, excited to see what was about to go down. To act as instigator, and bearing a shared sort of pride, she gestured to her mouth. "You've seen their teeth, yeah?" A rhetorical question, one that she didn't allow time to answer. "Men have lost their throats to them."

There was a glimmer of something like malice in the prince's eyes, and excitement, but his voice was even as he continued. "That's the difference between me and my brother. Sláine can turn off his empathy if need be. I've seen him tear through people with no hesitation. But he never chose that path, and I would in a heartbeat if we were given a redo. That adrenaline on a battlefield, the feeling of someone's life in your hands? Nothing like it." Caoimhe angled his head the other way, as if scrutinizing Eurion from where he sat. "Overpowering someone in the same position as you, just a body in the way, is something that'll never get old. And scythes aren't as pretty as an arrow or a knife, or even a sword."

Taking someone by surprise was something Caoimhe loved to do, especially when he could go right for the jugular. The nobles called Azriel feral, but Caoimhe was moreso. Maybe it was the burning rage of his ancestors in his blood from the injustice of the family's brief downfall. Or maybe it was just him, bred to fight and kill and be the last man standing. Sláine never wanted to go to war, but Caoimhe had been at his back reigning terror on anyone that dared get near.

And big brother mode was slipping in as he pointed to Eurion, sternness slipping in. "Make yourself the bad guy all you want. There are men out there that would wilt under your true feelings on the matter. But there are men like us built for the blood on our hands," and faces. "If not us, then who would take up that sin? Let the holy and righteous call us monsters; we're just keeping the balance between them and the damned. If someone has a problem with that, then they are not worth your attention or affection."

Eurion took a moment to think through what the other was saying, and as much as his expression remained stone cold, a glimmer of respect made its way into his gaze. They didn’t get redos, he wanted to argue, that Caoimhe had made his choice, and so had Sláine, and nothing would change that. Sure, the first prince may say he enjoyed it, but the way Eurion felt when he was killing, torturing, he doubted anyone but an assassin would know. It wasn’t a battlefield, it was personal, more so, he presumed. He’d been wrong before and he may be wrong again, but that wasn’t the point.

They didn’t know each other. Eurion wasn’t a good person, he was, in fact, a bad one, it was almost rooted in who he was at this point. He was older, more experienced, had plenty of opportunities to stop and change but he didn’t because he liked it. Loved it.

But who would go home to someone knowing they had spent their day torturing, slowly and painfully because in their mind it was fun? That was where he worried when it came to whatever it was between him and Sláine. Like Caoimhe had said, the second prince hadn’t chosen that path, as much as he may have partaken in some way or another years ago. Would Sláine be able to stay or want to stay, knowing that? It was a bridge they’d cross at another time, for now, he was asleep and had no clue of Eurion’s true feelings towards his occupation.

“You’re not wrong,” Eurion admitted, he’d give the prince that much, “But in a hundred and twenty five years, I have not met someone who would willing go home to someone knowing they had spent the day murdering,” He shrugged, “And if I have a mate,” He tried not to look at the Sláine, “There’s a chance they would feel the same. Regardless, I’m never in one place long enough to meet someone properly, so, I doubt it would ever happen, anyway.”

Caoimhe pointed again at Eurion, those this time it was more like a jab into the air. "I like you," he announced. The prince, it would seem, wasn't having the assassin's crisis over his occupation versus his love life. "I have seen too many people do horrible things while putting on innocent smiles and dressing in white robes. In my book, the worst people out there are the ones that get away with what they do because they present themselves as 'good.' There is no good, and there is no bad. There's just the liars, and the ones that don't hide who they are." Caoimhe tapped his heart. "You could hold a knife to my chest and tell me all the things I bet you wish you could do, and I'd still trust you over a priest with their hand behind their back."

Maybe it was a product of growing up seeing nobles, or maybe it was from all the places the twins had seen where the people who got hurt the worst were victims of people they thought would never hurt them. Maybe it was all the children who had to run because their parents couldn't accept that they were different—magically, or personally. Or maybe it was all the times negotiations had gone haywire in a split second, all because Sláine said one thing that the person didn't want to hear; all nice and considerate, then holding a blade to Sláine's throat and demanding retribution.

Aideen crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head back to look up at the canopy above them. "If whoever you end up with is worth their salt, then they would understand that it's a part of you they cannot change. The best sorts of villains are the ones capable of love." She then smiled a little and huffed a small laugh. "I just ask that maybe you don't resort to biting your enemies—it's a bit of a hazard, and I've stopped trusting where his mouth has been." Caoimhe rolled his eyes at that and shot Eurion a 'you see this shit?' look.

"Oh, and," the prince finally registered Eurion's final statement and narrowed his eyes a little in accusation, "I call bullshit on not finding someone."

Eurion was ready to comment on Aideen’s statement but then Caoimhe was giving him a look and calling bullshit and for the second time during their conversation, the assassin felt his heart begin to race, “Why do you call bullshit? I have no reason to lie about my love life.”

But he did. Because what him and Sláine had was a secret for the time being. They didn’t know what it was, their connection, as much as Eurion had his theories he were beginning to believe for truth, but until they knew for certain they were going to keep it hidden, for both their sakes. If Caoimhe realised his twin were mated to the assassin that had tried to kill them, that their relationship had changed so drastically over the course of a few days, Eurion was worried that the conversation wasn’t going to end well. Another reason to remain alone was to avoid the hard, inevitable talk that would ensure with whoever he may have ended up with in another life, but it made things worse when he was both assassin and stranger.

He couldn’t help but feel conflicted. Sure, the first prince was fine with who his own lover was - thief at heart - but their relationship had developed normally, slowly, over the course of months. Not in a few days to get to the point him and Sláine were at. Did witches have mates? Was Caoimhe aware of the bond and what it entailed more so than simply being fated for someone? Another downside to his lack of knowledge when it came to how the witches functioned.

When all you did was kill them, there wasn’t a need to understand their love lives, how they picked and chose who they ended up with in the end. Eurion hadn’t had a need to understand how any of the magical beings functioned when it came to love because there was never a need. Not until now, not until Sláine.

As much as his suspicions circled around the exact dynamic around Sláine and the assassin, Caoimhe wasn't thinking about them right at that moment. He was in big brother mode, and Eurion talking down about himself wasn't flying in the prince's book, no matter their age gap or relationship.

"I don't care if you're lying to me or not, but now I'm a little curious as to if you are." If anything, that re-sparked his interest in just what was going on between the two, but he pushed it aside for now. "I'm just saying that it's bullshit you won't find someone because of how often you're on the move. That doesn't mean anything if someone catches your fancy, or you catch theirs. I refuse to believe that you never had the time to take interest in someone. No one moves around that quickly." He should know. The princes had secured several flings over the years of travel between countries and realities. There was always just the right person, at just the right time.

Caoimhe then added as an afterthought, waving up and down to encompass all of Eurion. "And we all know there's plenty of people into the whole tall, dark, and handsome kinds. You've even got the dash of mysterious and brooding. The perfect wet dream for those lot."

Snickering, Aideen silently concurred. Eurion was attractive, even with his scowly face. She, too, noticed the treatment of the younger prince. How gentle he was with the way he massaged Sláine's neck, the idle twirling of his hair—the assassin could be soft with others if he wanted to be. That, in her book, was a deadly combination. If they hadn't been at each other's throats so easily, and if she didn't have a man already, she would've found him attractive enough to consider pursuing. Caoimhe had entrapped her with how sweet he could be when he wasn't being batshit insane or purposefully riling her up. Eurion should have no problem pulling people in for a taste.

"Maybe I just haven't wanted to, then," Another shrug from the assassin, "I tried when I was younger to find my mate but never found him. At that point, I gave up and resorted to just one-night stands when I needed something." It felt wrong being with anyone that wasn't who he was destined for. Sure, he didn't know the full extent of what it entailed or how connection and bond worked, but regardless, it was an ingrained part of his being. Every Fae was the same. It was part of their soul whether they liked it or not. They could fuck and be with people they were attracted to, but the moment they found their person it was all over.

That was what it was like for Eurion. What it was like when he found Sláine. No one had burned through him the way the prince did. With just the most innocent touches he could calm his heart, just being around him, five feet apart, wasn't enough. He wanted to hold, touch, and care for the prince in ways he had never intended to care for anyone. They were supposed to be nothing to one another. They were still strangers, in a sense, but Eurion felt as if he had known Sláine for years. The way the prince was able to just soothe and draw out and break walls that hadn't lowered for years, weave his way in between and somehow nestle his way into Eurion's soul in a matter of hours wasn't normal and had never happened with anyone else. It would never happen again.

But, with the thought of Fae mates, it brought him to his next question, "Do witches have mates?" He asked, daring a small glance at Sláine, "Or similar? How does it work or do you just… find someone like humans do?"

Because as much as Eurion was semi-aware of how that bond felt for him, it was strange that his person wasn't Fae. It was rare and maybe that was why he never found Sláine when he had been actively looking because he had been looking in the wrong place. Had been looking for someone like him and not a witch- High Witch.

That was an understandable point, but that also rendered Eurion's previous argument moot when he had initially stated he couldn't find someone. Couldn't, and not wanting to, were two very different things. And Caoimhe geared himself up to argue back, enjoying this banter just a little now that he had someone else to go back and forth with. Sláine was fun, but they had been doing it for years, and at some point, it became predictable with certain conversations. Aideen just liked to see what pissed him off the most without really caring about the conversation. But Eurion was new, which made it fun.

But then Eurion sneakily switched the topic around, and Aideen piped in so that the prince could redirect his prepared script gracefully. It was a topic that she could easily answer without pissing the assassin off. "Simple answer is no—witches don't have mates. Not like the Fae do, at least, which brings me to the more complicated answer."

Aideen spread her hands and weighed them back and forth, like a scale. "Less powerful witches tend to act more like humans, finding partners easily and not really sticking with the same ones if things fall apart. But more powerful ones, especially High Witches where they live a lot longer, are more selective with their partners. Some never find one. They say they can feel it in the aura of the person if they are bonded, essentially. The most compatible. Magics connect and compliment, and they are more likely to stick to a single partner for the rest of their life." She glanced up to Caoimhe, who was pouting a little, and hooked a thumb at him. "That being said, there's also instances of long-time partners having agreements where they can go out every once in a while and sleep with someone else, just to spice things up. It can get mundane for some people to only stick to one person for what feels like eternity."

Caoimhe nodded. That's what his parents did sometimes. "In simple terms—yes and no. It's more likely for High Witches to have special bonds with their partners that almost feel predestined, but nothing is set in stone. And, obviously, not all feel the way Fae do with the aversion to sleeping with people that isn't their person."