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

Started March 15, 2023 by @ElderGod-kirky group

tune

Eurion couldn't help the soft blush that spread across his cheeks at the spirit's words. Boy toy. Sláine wasn't his boy toy, they weren't even boyfriends, partners whatever it was because none of that had been established. They had in fact had no time at all for that and instead, they had been thrown into an entirely different situation that had the two of them currently on non-speaking terms. It didn't help that he was thinking about the inn, how Eurion had pushed Sláine against the door, used his height and build to his advantage to keep the other there until he was telling him how he was feeling. The feeling had his stomach twisting in a delightful way.

Gods, it felt like he had a crush all over again. Like he was back to being a teenager and found someone his age attractive and didn't know how to function when they looked his way. It was funny, embarrassing, really, that he was so much older and still feeling the same way. It shouldn't have been a surprise. Sláine was his mate after all, but he hadn't expected to feel shy when talking or thinking about the other. Their bond twisted, glowing as they both thought about the same event, the feelings attached to them and how Eurion was currently turning a light shade of pink. There were so many fluttery feelings around that he didn't know what to do with them or where to place them, instead, he unconsciously sent them down the bond to his mate, "It's nice to meet you properly, Solise. I'm Eurion. Thanks for the comfort." As much as Cara was a small one and he had always been willing to snuggle with her, the spirit was bigger, softer, and considering her connection to Sláine, he felt in some way connected to her, too.

Cara brushed through her hair with her fingers, humming softly at the prince's words as Adelphia tuned out of the conversation, her own thoughts twisting to Eurion and knowing that she should check up on him soon. Also to avoid the embarrassment of whatever Cara was going to reveal about how terrible she had been when it came to wanting the shifter's attention and love.

"I wanted nothing to do with Addie, I'm guessing Eurion was since he's such an ass sometimes," She snorted, "Either way, I ended up getting into a fight and breaking my leg, she was the one that fixed me up. Not exactly the best way to meet but I have a feeling that it would have been the same with you and Euri? He is an assassin and you don't just meet prince's out of nowhere. Still can't believe he's mated to a prince."

Solise's snicker echoed through Eurion's mind, and she outwardly trilled into his ear while nudging his cheek. After the years of looking after Sláine, even witnessing a brief moment between the two when she had first arrived in their realm, she knew the tell of pink cheeks. "Anytime," she promised, dutifully leaving the Fae to his own spiraling thoughts and fluttery emotions instead of nosing her way into their private life more than she needed to. "It is nice to meet you as well, though I'm afraid I will have to leave you to the care of your friends soon." Sláine was sufficiently distracted enough from the event and his separation from Eurion, but he still required comfort. Aideen watched the spirit and assassin curiously, and after realizing she wasn't going to be included anytime soon, got up to join Caoimhe in the kitchen.

The incoming wave of feeling caught Sláine off guard, but they washed over him and his heart. He folded his arms over his pulled-up knees and buried his face up to his nose in them, just in time for the light dusting of pink to bloom over his cheeks. If they truly were going to be okay down the line, if the prince dared to hope that Eurion would lose that fear of him, what other memories would they create to reminisce about? His very soul was aflutter with a lightness he hadn't experienced in a long time when he thought about a short moment in time, all because of Eurion. He was warm all over thinking about every tiny moment he had with the assassin, and the feelings from the bond were hoarded close to his heart. Maybe they would be okay again. One day. He dared to hope, if only to save himself from being miserable the entire time.

In return, to let his assassin know he was thinking about him too, Sláine tentatively sent his own complicated feelings down the bond. He wanted to go over there himself, to fall into Eurion's side and hold him close. His very being craved to be in his assassin's space, for his lips to touch the other's skin in an invisible claim. Fuck, he still had some lingering bruises left on his chest from when Eurion had decided to mark his claim over the prince. Just that thought alone sent his mind spinning into thoughts and feelings he didn't want to face, not when he struggled to stay put, to talk to Cara like he wasn't dying inside at his inability to be with Eurion. When had he gotten so attached? So invested in a relationship that wasn't even an official relationship? It had taken hold of him so quickly, yet gradually, that Sláine couldn't place the moment he had started craving Eurion's touch and presence until he couldn't have it any longer.

To Cara, he tried acting like he wasn't going crazy internally—though the prince refused to lift his head or unbury his face. "Trust me, I don't think he can believe it either." Sláine considered the pros and cons of elaborating, then went with it anyway. "We met when he was trying to kill me and my brother. Aideen got to him first, and I was put in charge of watching him for the night."

Eurion sighed softly. The thought of the spirit leaving wasn't nice but he guessed he shouldn't complain. Solise wasn't his spirit guide. Hell, he didn't even have one. It was only because she was connected to Sláine and had been so loving towards him that he didn't want her to go. Eurion could only silently hope that he would be able to spend more time with her at some point. How long had she been around for? Since the inn, he guessed, considering his shadows had noted her presence softly in the background while he had been tangled with his prince in the bed. He didn't want to think about how much she may have seen of the two together at that moment, and his mind racing, his cheeks darkened, when he remembered what they had done.

It was only pronounced more when he felt Sláine send his own feelings back down the bond. He hadn't realised he had sent his own towards his prince but he must have. Eurion wondered what the other was thinking about. Currently, his own mind was turned towards their shared moment of indecency which he hoped hadn't been in the presence of the spirit. The touches, the kisses, how Sláine had looked and sounded, it all just accumulated into one big mass of emotions that were being sent racing down to his prince. As much as he couldn't face the other, he hoped that it would be just enough to let him know that he was still thinking about him, still craving him, as much as his fear of his magic was pressing into the back of his mind, "Suppose you should check on Sláine, then." He mumbled, trying his best to ignore how red he was.

Cara snorted again. She didn't comment on the fact that Sláine didn't make eye contact with her and had his face pressed into his arms. She also had a feeling that if she did then Adelphia was going to slap her on the head for making the other feel uncomfortable for some reason or another. Either way, she hummed and continued, "That's not surprising. That man always has some high-ranking person on his hit list. I remember when he took out one of the Fae nobles and ended up having to escape through a sewer. You did not want to be in a room with him for at least a day afterwards. Thank Gods you hadn't known him then."

Solise snickered as she slid from her perch on Eurion's shoulders. The assassin sounded disappointed, but also strangled, as if his thoughts had taken quite a turn. She supposed that Sláine was being assaulted by those thoughts right now and would be in need of her comfort in these trying times, and Eurion maybe needed some time alone. "Enjoy your peace," she chimed in a singsong tone, then leaped off of the assassin's lap and trotted across the floor and beneath the curtain to get to Sláine. On her trip over, she noted Aideen and Caoimhe softly conversing, and a quick tilt of her ear revealed they were discussing what had happened the night before—specifically, Sláine's mental well-being. Neither one believed he was okay, no matter how much of a front he put up. The spirit sighed, then jumped into her prince's lap the moment she got close enough.

Sláine wasted no time in scooping up Solise and burying his face into her soft fur and feathers. Eurion would be the death of him. Right when he was talking to his best friends, no less? He couldn't have waited to torture the prince until later? Sláine's tortured groan was thankfully muffled by Solise's body, but his mind was racing with so many thoughts and feelings that he couldn't differentiate between his own and Eurion's. Is this what it's like to have a mate? Being subject to the best possible feelings at the worst possible time? Because of his assassin, his thoughts plummeted to the very inn Eurion was thinking of. What they had done, how amazing he had felt in that moment, the thrill he had coursing through him at the dominating switch that had flicked on in his assassin.

They then changed to hypotheticals, instances of this very thing happening but with other thoughts, more intense thoughts. What exactly could be sent down the bond intentionally? What all would Eurion experiment with him? Fuck. Sláine hugged Solise closer and curled up as much as he could with her in his lap. His mind was a thousand miles away, barely paying attention to Cara as she talked, but he tried to keep up for the sake of saving face. "I—why shouldn't have I known him then?" he asked, confused and wading through an onslaught of so many things crowding within his mind. Fucking Eurion. No. No, no thinking that. Damn Eurion.

Eurion hummed softly to Solise as she left, leaving him alone in the mess of pillows he had found himself in. Now that she was gone he was able to sink further back, shifting slightly uncomfortable with the pain from his chest. Adelphia’s healing had helped with the speeding of the process and the wound itself wasn’t as bad as it had been yesterday. Considering he was also alive that was always a positive, he supposed. The pillows were soft, allowing him to rest his head gently back and close his eyes. The problem was, however, the fact that every time he closed his eyes he saw Sláine.

Not that it was an issue, because he loved thinking about Sláine but his train of thought was less than innocent. With the memories of the inn, knowing that Sláine was thinking of the same or at least similar from the feelings that were being sent down the bond, it made things both worse and so much better. It got him thinking about what else he could get away with, where else he would be able to tease the prince. Maybe he could send those thoughts his way… Eurion figured he may as well try it, just to fuck with his prince, just to further the fact that he was thinking about him. Because his mind was already there, picturing Sláine on his back, his hands in his hair, letting Eurion make him up again just as he had done in the inn. Kissing down his chest and lower until he had his mouth right where he wanted him and knew Sláine would make the best sounds and reactions. It had the assassin groaning at the thought, of what it was going to be like when he was finally able to have his prince. Skyfall, they had said, and if anything he was determined to make sure he still held that promise. He sent all those feelings and thoughts down the bond, picturing what Sláine was looking like not, how red he might be.

Cars was oblivious to what Sláine was going through because she was too busy rambling about her best friend. Adelphia, however, was not, and she looked smug but didn’t comment or say anything, simply letting her partner talk, “Oh he was such a dick. Like, way worse than he is now. I mean, he’s an ass these days but when we first met him he was as stubborn as a mule and hated pretty much everyone. I could not picture him being with anyone, mate or otherwise back then. At that point I don’t think he cared as much as he did now so, that’s the difference, things would have been a lot harder on the two of you.”

It felt like ages ago that Sláine was desperate to know if Eurion still wanted to be with him. He still questioned it to some capacity, because he was not without his magic, and it was that big factor that had terrified the assassin. But now, with Cara babbling away and Adelphia looking far too smug for his liking in his peripheral, Sláine was desperate to not know anything about what Eurion was thinking about when it came to him and their relationship.

The prince swallowed back his groans and tried so hard to curl up and disappear, or have a hole swallow him up so that he could die in peace rather than suffer under the hand of his mate while surrounded by two witches that were not only strangers to Sláine, but Eurion's best friends. The feelings he could deal with, albeit not for very long. But Eurion had decided to apparently experiment with the nature of their bond, and Sláine couldn't escape the thoughts and images invading his mind. The assassin forcing Sláine on his back, kissing and biting his way down the prince's body, until he reached a point where he was making him writhe and moan and beg for more. Fuck, he wouldn't survive like this, not when Eurion seemed so damn horny and intent on torturing Sláine. But he couldn't stop himself from thinking about it, imagining all the possibilities of where that scenario would lead. How Eurion would simultaneously take his time tearing Sláine apart, bit by bit, but also devour him whole. Sláine pictured his assassin holding him down, whispering filthy commands, and himself submitting to it all with panting breath and legs spread. He's submit to anything Eurion wanted of him, he'd go down on his knees for no one but his assassin. Prince be damned. He was Eurion's first and foremost, and at the moment, he could think of nothing else but the most private and least innocent aspects of that claim.

Sláine was burning up right then and there, and hiding could only do so much. Solise did her best to provide a comfort, but even she could only do so much when the prince was faced with the overwhelming onslaught of his mate's lust. "Perhaps you should leave," she offered softly, just to Sláine. Maybe he should. Excuse himself from the conversation, feign being tired after an overwhelming night and early morning. Adelphia would know, of course, that it was a lie, but what else could he do? Eurion wasn't letting up.

"Maybe," Sláine bit out, only able to get one word through without giving himself away too much. Not that it mattered, Cara seemed too intent on rambling to care if he responded to her.

The reaction that Eurion felt from his mate only had the assassin smirking softly to himself. Sex didn’t involve magic, and it was easy to think about when there wasn’t any of that seeping into his thoughts. Easy to think about what it would be like to completely make Sláine unravel beneath him. Gods, it was making him go insane. A part of him was tempted to go out there and just grab him, pull him behind the curtain and see what he could get away with. For him, it made things so much better knowing there would be other people around. As much as Sláine had made it clear on the first day, and Caoimhe, too, that they had no want to walk in on the other, the assassin couldn’t find it any less than fucking hot to picture Sláine trying to keep quiet, letting Eurion do what he wanted to him, telling him all the things he wanted to do, all those praises and demeaning words right into his ear, letting him use him. He sent all those thoughts and wants right down the bond. Sent them through as a promise for Skyfall. He didn’t want to face his prince right now, but if he could test the waters, test his own limits through their bond then he would.

Aideen had been successful in smacking his sense back into him. Sure, the magic was an issue, but the more he let his thoughts stay with his prince, with both the innocent and definitely those that were far too sinful for someone who was injured, Eurion’s fear was lessening. The fear that Sláine would hurt him, the memory that the Gods had shown him, that event, it was slipping into the background and overcome by the mass of over emotions that he was feeling. He was a horny bastard but those wants of needing to be held were there, as much as they were being suppressed for the time being. Solise had been the comfort he had needed an hour ago, Sláine was who he needed now, in more ways than one.

It was torture for Eurion just as much. Because every time he felt Sláine’s own feelings being sent back it just made him want more. Want to push and see what he could get away with. Want to call for him and hold him and, probably fuck him, too, considering the state of his mind, as much as Adelphia would kill him herself for doing something so reckless. ‘Healing takes priority’ as she always said, but currently Eurion’s priority was messing with Sláine and needing him.

Cara continued to ramble although not for much longer, because it was Adelphia that placed a hand on her girlfriends head to get her to shush, “You’ve had a big day, Sláine, maybe you should take a nap for a few hours.” Both to save him from the embarrassment that he was currently feeling because it was damned obvious to the healer, especially with his strained words and the fact he was pressing his face into the spirit, and for his own well being. She wasn’t going to sit by when she knew that Eurion was torturing him and the prince hadn’t slept as much as he should have the night before.

Sláine had never been so thankful for someone being so perceptive before, even if it was beyond embarrassing that Adelphia knew exactly what she was talking about, and it was not, in fact, just a normal nap. The prince would take the opening, though, no longer feeling like it'd be rude to get up and leave in the middle of a conversation. "You're right," he agreed, letting go of Solise to rub at his eyes while internally screaming. "It's been an eventful few hours." The prince bowed his head towards the healer, then pushed himself to his feet while trying to not look like he was in a rush, even if he was absolutely going as fast as possible. Solise hopped from his arms onto the counter to bug Aideen and Caoimhe, definitely not going back to Eurion, and Sláine made a getaway to a guest room for his nap.

Door closed, he was finally free to let out a trembling breath and press himself against the wall. Paranoia had him wrapping his magic around the room to seal it, preventing any sound from coming through to avoid the others from hearing anything that Eurion might torture out of him. "Fuck," he whispered, and somehow he made it over to the bed while his mind was spinning and the assassin assaulted him with waves of thoughts and feelings that threatened to make him buckle and crumble to the floor. Instead, Sláine rolled onto the mattress and covered his eyes with his arms, face tilted up to the ceiling. He was going mad. Only just now learning of the bond, and Eurion was already abusing its connection between them. Promises and fantasies of the assassin pinning Sláine down, fucking him right in front of the others and forcing him to be quiet to avoid getting caught. Exhibition had never been on the top of his list of things he enjoyed, but with the lust pouring through the bond from Eurion, the prince had no choice but to feel a thrill at just the thought of it.

"You can't just need me like that," Sláine whined, squirming on the bed as his hands opened and closed into fists, "but not do anything about it." Not in the way that really mattered. Logically, he knew why it wouldn't happen and didn't fault Eurion for finding a loophole around his fear, but it didn't stop his quickly deteriorating composure from complaining. It wasn't fair that he could feel every ounce of need Eurion held for him, even through the fantasies and promises, but not have his assassin right by him to fulfill that need. The best Sláine could do was send thoughts of his own. Him by his assassin, curled into his side and holding him tight. Scraping his teeth over Eurion's neck and declaring himself belonging to the man. Dragging his touch everywhere he could reach. Moaning right into Eurion's ear just how the assassin liked it.

He sent his own need down the bond, the itch in his limbs to relieve himself of Eurion's torment now that he had the privacy of a room and a couple hours of freedom in a sound-proofed room. But he didn't. Not yet. He thought about it, let Eurion know he was thinking about it, but he didn't give in just yet. Sláine wanted to experiment with how long he could hold out. How far his mate would go when this house had others in it, when he was injured, in pain, and still not quite ready to see the prince in person. What was his plan? Did he even have one, beyond driving Sláine insane? If that was it, he had succeeded tenfold.

Eurion didn't exactly have a plan when it came to what or why he was sending all those thoughts and feelings Sláine's way. It had only started because his prince had begun to think about it, and the Solise conveying it back to him which had his own thoughts drifting to places that had been a distraction. The assassin hadn't been aware that it was possible to send things through their connection, only realising it when he had properly felt his prince returning whatever he had been sending. Now it was just experimentation. It made it all the easier when he could feel Sláine's complaints as much as he couldn't hear them, could feel what his prince was feeling, sending that need back at him. Unfair, really, and Eurion was more than aware that he should stop because it was a bad idea to test the lengths of both his teasing and their bond when they were in a rocky place. But he had never been good at listening to his gut and that insistent burning and yearning he had for the prince just furthered the want to fuck with the other in more ways than one.

It was why he pushed back harder, more intensely than he had been. Sláine wasn't helping matters for him, either, especially when his prince was sending thoughts of him moaning right into his ear. It had Eurion biting down on his lip. A weakness of his, he had always known, only heightened and made worse by the fact that he was desperate to draw more of those sounds out of his prince. Back at the inn, it had been great, but he couldn't help but imagine what his prince would be like when they didn't have to worry about being quiet. When Eurion was able to make Sláine properly scream his name and beg for him, and he sent all of that, all that want for how badly he craved to make Sláine unravel under him, right back.

Gods, he hadn't craved someone as bad as his prince for such a long time. Hadn't needed someone the way he needed Sláine. The intensity that he felt when it came to wanting to mark and claim and take Sláine as his own was unlike any other, and it sucked that he was currently both two injured and still afraid of his mate's magic, to get close. Because if he was able, if he was able to get past that fear - and be able to move without being in pain - he would have taken the man in that spare room without question. Had him in so many ways Sláine wouldn't even want anyone else. That possessiveness was also sent back to his mate, with the scenario of Eurion forcing his prince's head down as he took him, leaning over his back as he reminded him who, exactly, he belonged to.

Sláine's initial thoughts of Eurion had been innocent. Mostly. He had been thinking about being pressed against that door, sure, and the feelings it has conjured were only natural to remember—but Solise had been the entire instigator by twisting it into something entirely unholy. He couldn't even begin to imagine why she would do that, so he didn't even think to blame her, but now he was suspended in a conflicted state of need and confusion. Sláine needed Eurion there. He needed him above him, behind him, making good on that possessiveness that only heightened the raging lust that his assassin had conjured. He needed Eurion now, to make sure they were still okay, that this just wasn't the man being horny and needing an outlet. But even if it was, even if they weren't okay and it truly was just an outlet for a man with carnal needs, Sláine was happy to be the subject of them in the private space of the room.

The prince arched back into the mattress, and finally couldn't stop himself from reaching down, palm putting sweet pressure where he needed it. But it still wasn't enough. He craved every image Eurion sent him. He bit his lip against a groan at the thought of Eurion taking him in every way imagined. The prince knew that his assassin had a weakness, had a certain obsession with making Sláine beg and make as many noises as he could. So, a little embarrassed that this wasn't an inn or his own place even though he had soundproofed the room, he let out quiet moans as he palmed himself. Sent the echo of them down the bond, recounting everything he heard from himself to Eurion as both payback and a reciprocation.

Because as conflicted as he was at the moment, as much as he wanted Eurion to charge through the room and climb on top of him—or even lay beneath the prince and make Sláine do all the work—he was enjoying himself. It was pure torture, all the thoughts and feelings invading his mind and senses, but he fucking loved it. He wanted Eurion to know that, to know what he was doing to the prince. So he sent his assassin every spark of sensation he brought up within himself, and every fantasy that went racing through his mind. And, just to play with him even more, he specifically thought of Eurion bending him over a desk, the door unlocked, and the threat of their companions walking in while Sláine was unable to be quiet. Eurion whispering filthy degradations in the prince's ear about getting them caught, which only made Sláine moan even more. The prince himself bit his lip and pressed even harder, body arching up and moans slipping through.

Oh Gods what had they started? What had Solise, started was the real question and what had Eurion got himself into? It was neither the time nor the place and the assassin didn't have the luxury of the soundproofing that Sláine had given himself, couldn't give him back those groans that he was so beautifully giving him. If his prince wasn't going to be the death of him literally, then he would be figuratively. He was going to lose his mind. All the conflicted feelings melted away and his mind was focused solely on his prince, on those sounds he was sending him, and that fucking image of Eurion bending him over the desk and just how badly they both needed each other. He wasn't using Sláine as an outlet, he was a dick but never would he use the man simply for sex because he was his mate and that lust for him went deeper than purely just wanting to fuck him. Maybe that was why everything felt more intense.

It was why Eurion couldn't help but move his own hand- slowly, because he didn't want to hurt himself further because that would be a real downer on the whole situation again- he couldn't help but touch, to curse softly to himself and reciprocate those same feelings back towards his mate on the other end of that bond. Gods he was tempted to yell to Adelphia, to get the witch to help him up and into that room. It was a bad idea and she would never allow it and Eurion didn't know if he could cope at the moment but he was tempted. He was so tempted and every ounce of that temptation and want just went pouring down to his prince without a second thought, especially when he was feeling good and it was because of Sláine. Every good feeling, wonderful feeling he had experienced over the last few days had been because of his prince. Gods be damned, magic be damned he could talk about it with Sláine at another point it didn't matter because they were mates and Sláine was his person and that wasn't going to change.

Eurion thought back to that scenario, to that desk, and he sent his own thoughts on it back. Sent the images of him having one hand on Sláine's hip, the other around his neck and letting his back arch away from him. Letting Eurion bite at his neck, tease him for letting him fuck him so openly and knowing that the others could walk in at any point, about how he wouldn't stop if they did. Gods, he could picture the embarrassment on Sláine's face. If his brother were to walk in on Eurion fucking him, filling him and not stopping if he did. How smug Eurion would be, the bruises and the grip he would have on Sláine, how his's princes eyes would widen and he'd beg him to stop but he wouldn't. The assassin palmed himself harder.

On the other end of the bond, behind a door and safely concealed from the rest of the people, Sláine laughed. It was dipped in a pleased moan, but he still laughed. Eurion was too easy to crumble, a simple man with easily identifiable weaknesses. And Sláine was having fun with him. He was having so much fun messing with Eurion, even when the torture only continued for him. He could feel the moment his mate broke down and started to touch himself as well, only separated by a curtain and forced to be quiet if he didn't want to be caught all alone. Sláine had a feeling Eurion would only want to be under the pressure of being caught, of being seen, when the prince was in the picture.

More confident now that he got Eurion all worked up, Sláine got more vocal, just how his assassin liked it. He closed his eyes and reveled in the image Eurion sent back, of them being caught and not stopping. It wouldn't be the first time, unfortunately, that Caoimhe caught Sláine in the middle of getting fucked. But it was so different when it was Eurion being the one to having him bent over, him being the one to be marking the prince up and staking an obvious claim on him by not being afraid to keep going. Sláine would tell him to stop, to save him the embarrassment, but deep down he knew he wouldn't want that. Being caught be damned, he'd be even more upset at the prospect of Eurion stopping. Or, he considered, would he even be coherent enough to be embarrassed? Would Eurion send him over the edge of spacial awareness, to the point he could think of nothing else but his mate? Sláine bit his lip against a moan and slipped his hand beneath the hem of his pants.

Another image crossed his mind, one that he was more than happy to share with his torturous assassin. Eurion—possessive, needy Eurion—would absolutely stake his claim on the prince in a public scene. Sláine rocked his hips at just the thought. Someone would be looking at him for too long, with too dark eyes, and Eurion would notice. He'd pull Sláine into his lap with a hand between the prince's legs, and keep it there. Everyone would know, and Sláine would have no choice but to accept it, to fall to that possessive gesture even if it drove him mad. His hands would shake from the sensation, even if he tried so hard to play it off. Eurion would mark him up right there. They'd know.

Sláine moaned as if Eurion were right next to him. He sent his need and wishes down the bond, but also his amusement at the situation. They couldn't be together, but they were in a sense. This was as far as they could go at the moment, and he was more than willing to make it known that he desperately wished he had the assassin right next to him, making good on the thoughts and feelings being sent down the bond. His need didn't go down in the slightest—if anything, it only went up with each passing second—and he made that Eurion's problem to deal with just because the other had started it first.

The amusement that he sent from Sláine had the assassin stifling a soft chuckle because he was certain that either one of his friends would hear and come and check. He did not want Adelphia, especially didn't want Cara, walking behind that curtain and seeing what he was doing. Adelphia would chastise him for being so stupid, and Cara would just be jealous that someone else was getting his attention when Eurion could have been spending it with her. It was why he made sure to keep a hand over his mouth, to stifle any sounds that he made. Hearing Sláine down the bond was different to how it had been in the inn, and it was agony to not be able to get up and go to him, to hear those sounds in person once again and make Sláine louder, make him beg and scream just for him.

The possessive scenario that his prince sent back only spurred him on more, made him want to see what Sláine would allow him to do in the presence of other people. He wondered what other royals or nobles would make of him if they saw the prince submitting to someone like Eurion, how his prince would react. Simply palming the prince in front of a stranger was one thing, making sure his claim to the man was known, but what if it was in front of people that Sláine already knew? Eurion sent the images of his prince sitting comfortably in his lap back to him, only this time, it was in numerous locations, in a meeting, his cousin's throne, perhaps, touching him and palming him in front of others without shame as everyone knew that the prince was taken. He could only picture Sláine's head falling backwards onto his shoulder, trying to softly tell Eurion to stop because it wasn't decent and wasn't the time nor the place but he would only go harder, press harder, ask Sláine to tell him that again while the others watched him crumble under the touches of an assassin.

How many places would he be able to have his prince in the palace? Where would he be able to have Sláine on his knees for him, in places that were both too public or ones where someone would hear even behind closed and locked doors? What would they think of the youngest prince being so complaint for a stranger, or someone who worked with matters that had blood spilling over his hands? Eurion couldn't help but wonder, sending his lust and need for the other in waves that he couldn't stop because the thoughts and touches felt too good.

Maybe one day he would take the prince on that throne, Eurion couldn't stop the thought before it came to him, the image of fucking Sláine there, having him unravel in a place they were definitely not supposed to be, let alone Eurion.

The more Eurion expressed his matching need to be with the prince, the more Sláine's magic reminded him of a solution. It wouldn't work, not only because it wasn't the same, but because it was his magic. It would terrify Eurion, the thing between them would be ruined, and he'd lose his mate once again because of something so stupid. For once, he wished he wasn't so quick to turn to his magic, that it wasn't there to whisper solutions to problems that were made easy with the presence of his magic. Maybe then Eurion wouldn't be terrified of him.

Thinking like that, though, would do him no good. Not right then. So to distract himself, Sláine let Eurion's thoughts wash over him. He freely moaned and reveled in them, pressing his palm down in a mimic to his assassin's thoughts and propositions. Fuck, Sláine hadn't thought of Eurion holding him like that, making him submit like that, in front of people he knew. In front of a board of nobles, his cousin. The prince whispered as he pressed the heel of his palm down, imagining Eurion doing the same with every little noise and complaint Sláine made. He'd only punish him further if he acknowledged the action. If Sláine so much as breathed wrong, his possessive assassin would press harder in retaliation. He'd want the prince to make noise, to be heard, just for the embarrassment that he'd face in front of all the people.

Would he fuck him even harder afterwards? Sláine would be wired and practically begging for release—would Eurion's possessiveness get the better of him and he'd fuck the begging prince into total submission, declare him the only one allowed to hear Sláine like that? His thoughts when on a spiral after that, images of them getting caught in all the places Eurion imagined, including the king's throne, just for the assassin to take him even more brutally later on as a reminder that Sláine was his. They might have been seen, but Sláine's moans belonged to Eurion, his whimpers and begging all belonged to his mate. And the prince would take it without issue, maybe because he wouldn't be able to speak at all. His thoughts went back to the throne. Of him desperately riding Eurion to hurry things along before someone walked in. How the thrill of the fear would take hold and only spur him on more.

Sláine writhed on the bed, hips desperately pressing up into his hand as he wanted so much more. He couldn't, not right now, but he needed it so damn bad. The prince was teasing himself, really, by only palming himself in tune with the images being sent back and forth between the bond. He wanted something different, someone different, and he couldn't stop the slip of a moan from his tongue. "Eurion, please," Sláine whimpered. He couldn't figure out if he was asking for the assassin himself, or a relief from the torture. He couldn't have the first, and as much as he complained, he didn't want the second. Relief would be more torture. At least this way, he had Eurion in some capacity with him.

How thrilling it would be to have his prince riding him in a place meant only for the king? To have an assassin, of all people, on the throne itself and the kingdom's prince on his lap completely submitting to someone who had not a single drop of royal lineage in him, no ounce of innocence and definitely had no right sitting in such a place. It made Eurion's core burn, especially when the image of having Sláine on his knees for him in front of the seat came to him. Gods, if anyone saw. Their prince, kneeling, with his mouth around Eurion and the assassin's hands in his hair urging him on, keeping him there. He could only picture Sláine's blushing face and widening eyes as he looked up at Eurion, as the assassin told him someone was watching but refusing to let his prince come up for air, to speak or stop, just keep going.

Sláine was his and he was his prince's and that wasn't going to change. No one would ever see Sláine like that if Eurion could help it, no one but him. The thought of it only brought up more of that possessive anger, that desire to claim and take Sláine where others were fully aware that he wasn't to be touched or even looked at in a way that Eurion didn't like. One wrong move and it would be over for whoever it was because Eurion wasn't about to let someone else eye his prince like that. Imagine him in the ways that Eurion was. The only time or place would be if he deemed it okay, and even then it was more to prove that Sláine belong to him. When Eurion was touching him and making him softly beg for him, to either stop or go somewhere more private.

He could only picture his prince clawing at his back after such an incident, desperate and needy as Eurion fucked him and reminded him who he belonged to. There was no way that he would be anything less than rough and demanding if those times ever arose. He would get Sláine to that point where all he could think about was him, the pleasure and how damned good Eurion was making him feel, how he wouldn't even think about anyone else. Especially not when he would have his marks all over his body, when they were left in places that were visible and obvious, and Eurion would have his own in return, how his back would be full of claw marks and his neck of bites.

Eurion couldn't help the very soft curse that left his lips. Fuck, if things weren't so complicated, if that witch hadn't decided to try and kill his mate they wouldn't be in this position and he would be with Sláine right now making good on everything that they were sending to one another. The assassin let out a shaky breath, those images sending to Sláine along with the soft thoughts to keep touching. Urging him to keep going, for him, be good, keep going, so pretty.

Sláine quickly unraveled, his mind only honing in on Eurion and steadily losing grip on this game they were playing with one another. Eurion had sufficiently won, with the prince obeying his soft demands through the bond and only able to submit to the images and fantasies his assassin was sending him. He wanted nothing more than to have his mate right there with him, and it pained him that he couldn't have that one thing. What would Eurion do if he was there? How would he decide to debauch the prince right then and there, when Adelphia undoubtably knew what was happening, and their friends—and brother—were right outside? Sláine moaned, both from the pleasure and the frustration he held, and lost his grip on reality. Which, subconsciously, is where his magic decided to take its turn.

His hand became Eurion's, and the assassin was hovering above him, whispering those urging words and praises. Telling Sláine to be good for him, to keep taking it. At some point, his clothing was discarded as his body ran hotter and hotter. A hand then settled on his inner thigh and lovingly caressed his skin, sliding over his body in a revered worship as Eurion's lips pressed over his stomach, his chest, his neck. One against his temple. Sláine tipped his head back as far as he could, panting, staring up at the ceiling that was hazier than normal, the bubble of warped reality distorting it just a little. He recognized that, knew what was happening, and took advantage of it.

Phantom Eurion turned the prince onto his front, gripped his hair and held him down as he leaned over his body. Sláine bit down to muffle what noises he was making, still paranoid and needing something to unleash the tension. More kisses down the column of his back, with teeth teasing at the raised markings along his spine. More marks to match the fading ones on the prince's front. The phantom Eurion kept Sláine wound up, kept touching him, even as he dug his fingers into Sláine's hips and thighs, bruised him in places no one would know about, left red lines as Eurion dragged him backwards into the assassin's body. There was so much more that Sláine could alter, a completely different scenario that he could enact upon himself, and he teased at that idea with the feeling of his assassin's naked body over his. The dirty promises being whispered into his ear, each one mirroring the images that the real Eurion had sent down the bond.

And all of this, every sensation, the feeling of them being together and Eurion doing all of this to the prince at the present moment, was sent down the bond. No different from the fantasies, no magic being used on Eurion himself, but the sensations were more intense as if Sláine really felt it, with a teasing suggestion that there could be more. If this were real, would Eurion fuck him into the mattress with no care for setting? Would he hold him down and tell him that this was all his fault, that he was now getting exactly what he wanted? Or would he go slow, tortuously slow, to draw it out even more after all of this? Sláine groaned and buried his face further into the covers at the thoughts crossing his mind, and his own idea was quickly backfiring, as his desperation for his mate only grew with the knowledge that it wasn't real. But anything to tease Eurion, to get him back just a little, while the prince's psyche and composure quickly crumbled to dust.

Fuck. Eurion hadn’t realised that Sláine had the ability to do that, to conjure up a phantom version of the assassin and use that to help the situation. It felt stupid to be slightly jealous over what was essentially just a version of him, especially when it wasn’t real. But the fact that Eurion himself wasn’t there with Sláine, wasn’t the one touching and caressing his prince, bending him over and whispering all those praises and filthy thoughts right into his ear was frustrating. The good thing was, however, was that Eurion found himself not being afraid of the magic that his prince was using on himself. Maybe it was the situation, maybe it was because he wasn’t using it on Eurion himself, he didn’t know, but he didn’t feel afraid.

Those feelings were pushed aside at the overwhelming sensations that he was creating in himself and feeling the same from Sláine taking their place. His own hand moved but it wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted his prince, wanted to be in him and around him and taking him properly as his own and marking him up properly. Wanted to be the one pushing Sláine’s head into the mattress, bending him over and making sure his hips were high, bruising and marking him and completely unraveling his prince beneath him. Eurion knew, that no matter how he felt about Sláine’s magic, he wouldn’t, couldn’t live without him. Nothing would be the same, no one would drive him as crazy as Sláine. Magic be damned he could overcome fear- he hoped -but Sláine was his mate and nothing, not even his own stupid fear, was going to keep him away.

It was why Eurion’s own hand moved harder, faster. The intensity that he felt from Sláine made it easy to keep going. Gods if he was there. He had no intention of going slow. Eurion wanted Sláine to be begging for it, wanted him desperate and needy and clawing for him and only him. As much as it would pain the assassin to go slow, especially when he was just as desperate, the images of him taking his time with Sláine were sent to him. How his hand would move between his thighs and stop when the other got close, when he wasn’t being loud enough for his liking. How Eurion would go so Gods damned slow just to draw it out and tease for as long as he could until his prince couldn’t handle it. Then he would make sure Sláine was properly fucked. Holding his hands over his head with one of his own, the other on his hips keeping them open, how he would look so good taking it for him.

Skyfall couldn’t come fast enough. Eurion wanted to fuck Sláine into oblivion and take him to a point of ecstasy, until there was nothing else in the world but the two of them. Until there was just that bond between them, like fire reaching towards the other, pulling them and keeping them entangled in one another’s body. Eurion didn’t know whether he would be able to live without his mate, no matter what happened with his magic. There was no way he would give Sláine up, not for anyone, and the thought of someone else having the prince this way just heightened all that possessive energy he held, making his own hand move faster.

Another quick laugh slipped through Sláine's moans, Eurion's jealousy making its way down the bond. At least there was no trace of fear, even if the assassin seemed jealous of a phantom, which was still a projection of him. So possessive, and hardly any better than Cara in the jealousy category. It got Sláine thinking of other ways he could use this aspect of his magic to keep bringing out that deep-rooted possessiveness, to make Eurion jealous of himself in times that he wasn't there to touch and fuck the prince as imagined. But that was for another time, another place, when their relationship was not as complicated.

Right now, though the prince thought Eurion's jealous streak was amusing, Sláine was panting heavily and moaning into the mouthful of fabric straining against his canines. Image after image raced to the forefront of his mind, until all he could see and feel was the ghost of Eurion's fantasies leaning over his body and bringing him to a height of pleasure that still wasn't quite enough to be satisfactory. He could imagine and manipulate his personal reality all he wanted, his body could pulse with the idea of what he wanted, but it wasn't real. It wasn't real, and Sláine didn't have Eurion with him, so he could only bring himself to that peak on his own even if it didn't feel right. The phantom Eurion increased his pace, urging and pushing Sláine to that edge, and the prince gripped the fabric of the covers in a desperate fist as his moans broke around attempts to get in air. He couldn't fight against the thoughts pouring through the bond, nor the sensations coming from Eurion, and it was all too much.

Sláine entire body shuddered as he fell over the edge, his back arching up as his mouth hung open on a silent moan and he pressed his forehead against the bed. The release washed over him, not quite relief as he still had the assault from Eurion and the bond, and it wasn't quite as good as when he had his assassin with him, but it was good enough for the moment. He wasn't squirming or desperate, burning with a lust he couldn't control. And he basked in that suspended bliss as he caught his breath.

Then his magic dropped, and that bliss plummeted along with it. The prince suddenly felt cold all over, and his body was trembling from suspended tension and something else. Sláine rolled away from where he had just been and curled up onto his side, grabbing a pillow to hug to his chest and bury his face. There was a pressure building, but he held it back, because he didn't want to go through that again. It wasn't the time to feel this way, he had felt so amazing just seconds ago—he still did, but more emotions warred for importance. Sláine was all too aware of the absence in the bed. How he was alone, and it had all been an exchange of mental images and a sharing of sensations. The prince wanted Eurion. The high didn't feel right otherwise.

Eurion felt as Sláine tipped himself over the edge and the bliss that followed, how good it felt even if it wasn't quite right for either of them. It wouldn't feel right doing this sort of thing on his own anymore, not when he had had a taste of Sláine and kept craving more, wanting and needing more of his prince no matter how complicated his feelings on things were in the present moment. It was unfair that he couldn't be with the other when he finished just as he had in the inn. See Sláine's blissed-out state, foggy-eyed and red-cheeked and panting just for him, squirming under his body in an attempt to get away from the sensations of it all. Eurion wanted the other badly, to be there to talk him down from the high with soft praises and whisper of how good he had been, how beautiful he looked.

It wasn't long after that when the assassin reached his own climax, slipping over his hand with a muffled groan. He didn't have the luxury that his prince had with the soundproofing and he certainly, as much as he loved his friends, didn't want either of them to walk in on him in this state. Gods that would be an embarrassment, especially when Adelphia would likely hit him over the head for doing something like that in his injured state. Definitely hadn't been the time or the place but Eurion didn't care. In some capacity, he was helping himself remember that Sláine and his magic were safe. Even though there were plenty of other scenarios that they could have used to do so, at least this one had felt good for them both, no matter how far apart they were from one another. But just like Sláine, it would never feel as good as when he was with the other.

When the shock waves of it all finally subsided and Eurion's head cleared a little more, instead of sending all those overwhelming thoughts and sensations that had them both craving touches that were less than innocent, he sent some he hoped would provide comfort. Warming, but not in the way the others had been. Soft and gentle, almost like an apology, for being an idiot, for having that fear that held him back from being face to face with him. In some way, he felt as if he had used Sláine, even if that hadn't been his intention. Guilt, maybe, but he held that feeling back.

Eurion felt as Sláine tipped himself over the edge and the bliss that followed, how good it felt even if it wasn't quite right for either of them. It wouldn't feel right doing this sort of thing on his own anymore, not when he had had a taste of Sláine and kept craving more, wanting and needing more of his prince no matter how complicated his feelings on things were in the present moment. It was unfair that he couldn't be with the other when he finished just as he had in the inn. See Sláine's blissed-out state, foggy-eyed and red-cheeked and panting just for him, squirming under his body in an attempt to get away from the sensations of it all. Eurion wanted the other badly, to be there to talk him down from the high with soft praises and whisper of how good he had been, how beautiful he looked.

It wasn't long after that when the assassin reached his own climax, slipping over his hand with a muffled groan. He didn't have the luxury that his prince had with the soundproofing and he certainly, as much as he loved his friends, didn't want either of them to walk in on him in this state. Gods that would be an embarrassment, especially when Adelphia would likely hit him over the head for doing something like that in his injured state. Definitely hadn't been the time or the place but Eurion didn't care. In some capacity, he was helping himself remember that Sláine and his magic were safe. Even though there were plenty of other scenarios that they could have used to do so, at least this one had felt good for them both, no matter how far apart they were from one another. But just like Sláine, it would never feel as good as when he was with the other.

When the shock waves of it all finally subsided and Eurion's head cleared a little more, instead of sending all those overwhelming thoughts and sensations that had them both craving touches that were less than innocent, he sent some he hoped would provide comfort. Warming, but not in the way the others had been. Soft and gentle, almost like an apology, for being an idiot, for having that fear that held him back from being face to face with him. In some way, he felt as if he had used Sláine, even if that hadn't been his intention. Guilt, maybe, but he held that feeling back.

The overwhelming drop in his emotions, the lack of having Eurion there to kiss and touch and hold him—Sláine held it all close to his chest to avoid burdening his assassin with it. The warm and soft feelings helped some, calmed his racing heart and made him feel just a little better about the situation, but it wouldn't change the fact that the man himself wasn't there. Sláine shimmied beneath the blankets and hugged the pillow tight, face buried up to his nose, and dutifully ignored the single tear that slipped through. He didn't regret any of it. It had felt so good to know that Eurion at least thought of him like that, but the bed was empty and he couldn't go and tuck himself away into his assassin's side like he wanted to without possibly triggering Eurion's fear. Reality caught up to the prince, and it burned at his throat.

So Sláine hoarded every little sensation and memory exchanged, hugged the soft apologetic feelings tight to his heart, and hoped that he'd have it again someday. The prince didn't allow Eurion to feel any of this, only his returned pulse of innocent affection, as he whispered to the empty room, "I miss you."

Eventually, Sláine did fall asleep and get more much needed rest. Aideen and Caoimhe entertained themselves with chatting with Adelphia and Cara, with Solise wandering about and pointedly leaving Eurion to himself just in case the two mates decided to extend their shared bonding time. When time came that the healer deemed Eurion fit for travel, the spirit left to wake the sleeping prince, and the other two started gathering their things to get ready to leave once more. They were all glad that the assassin would be okay, Aideen with her own motives and the twins caring more about the man himself than his usefulness. But restlessness had befallen at least two of them, and they were equally glad to be ready to leave. Caoimhe and Sláine especially appreciated no longer taking up space in the witches' home.

Sláine dressed himself and thoroughly cleaned the guest room with a whirlwind of contained magic, face burning even when alone. He refused to make it known what he and Eurion had experimented with, and he as more than a little ashamed of his drop right after. It felt ridiculous, nearly pitiful, and he desperately hoped Eurion hadn't felt an ounce of it despite the prince's determination to hide it all while it had happened. Solise sat, unhelpful as always, on a dresser and made fun of him for sleeping the day away in a chipper voice he knew all too well.

"Go bother someone else," he grumbled, as he fixed the sheets and bedding. Solise cackled and hopped down, then trotted across the floor to track down the assassin and see if she could get more cuddles in from him. Maybe then someone would appreciate her.

With his magic still mostly out for the count, Eurion hadn't had the ability to clean himself up with magic. He was glad for the already existing bandages around his middle to somewhat clean himself off, and Adelphia had ended up changing them for him regardless so, it worked out. The assassin didn't want to leave so soon and was already preparing for the complaining that he was going to hear from Cara once he was out in the open. He hadn't visited for a while and only a day or so wasn't enough for the shifter. It wasn't enough for him, either, especially when he had had no time to catch up with the two witches.

He had taken longer than usual to get ready because rushing things sent sparks of pain shooting through his chest. Eurion was to be careful, Adelphia had instructed, and definitely could not do anything reckless that would result in further injury. The healer had been very clear in the orders she had given the two twins, Caoimhe, really, because Aideen didn't seem inclined to help Eurion with his healing and she had a feeling Sláine wasn't going to be in the right place to do so, either. No heavy lifting or straining unless absolutely necessary, taking breaks more frequently than they might have liked so he could catch his breath - even though the assassin insisted he would be okay - and to make sure he was applying the balm that she had given Eurion to his chest at least once a day. Eurion didn't need a caretaker but he was silently grateful that at least someone was listening and looked like they wanted to help, or cared about his well-being.

But Cara was not taking it well and had sat in the corner frowning and pouting the entire time the group was preparing to leave. It was ridiculous and she wanted him to stay another day, at least one more day. The grumpy shifter especially wasn't happy when Eurion had picked Solise up and placed the spirit around his shoulders when she came to bother him.

The assassin couldn't help but chuckle softly at the look on his friend's face, "Don't be like that Cara, Solise isn't replacing you."

"But you're still leaving us," Cara whined, "I haven't had any time with you this is entirely unfair and you know better than this." She stood, and the woman looked more like a child than anything with her arms crossed and having to incline her head upwards at the man.

Once the room was made, the prince joined the rest of the group to get his things in order. Sláine listened to every word Adelphia said, even if he knew he wouldn't be the one looking over Eurion's health and healing process. He might watch from afar and alert his brother to do something, but he himself wouldn't be doing anything of the sort. Not when he was now avoiding the assassin, standing as far away as possible and trying not to look his way. Sláine didn't want to conjure that flinch again, didn't want to be a cause for fear once more. So he stayed off to the side, listened intently, and silently made sure all his stuff was packed. Caoimhe, for his part, was just as invested in keeping Eurion alive and functioning, and reassured the healer that he would keep an eye out and bully Eurion into using the balm when instructed. Aideen waved a dismissive hand. hardly even paying attention to a single word.

Solise made herself comfortable on Eurion's shoulders, tail idly swaying where it hung down the man's side. Her gaze landed on the jealous shifter, and she chirruped in what could've been in sympathy or a subtle gloat. Not that it mattered, because either way the group was leaving, and Solise was going with them while Cara had the unfortunate luck of not.

Caoimhe overheard the conversation, though, and leaned back to insert himself into it. "We don't have to leave this second, if you want to get some friend time in." He hadn't witnessed Cara's jealousy, so he didn't know just how deep it ran, and that no matter how long they visited, she wouldn't be happy. Solise tried silently telling the twin that with just a look, but he was blissfully unaware and simply wanted to help the two friends spend a little more time together. It was a little unfair that they had only been there long enough for Eurion to heal enough for travel, and he didn't even get to hang out with his friends.

Aideen rolled her eyes at her partner trying to delay them even further, but said nothing. Sláine listened and watched from afar, intrigued about the interaction. He couldn't help but feel a small flutter in his chest at the ease in which his assassin had picked up Solise and found a place for her. Like he was already comfortable enough with the spirit to have a spot just for her whenever she wanted attention, instead of being unsure of what to do or hesitant to interact. Logically, he knew it didn't necessarily mean anything about them, as Solise was still her own entity, but Sláine couldn't help but think it had something to do with them being connected, and her presence reminded Eurion of the prince. Stupid, but it gave him just a little bit of comfort to think about.

Eurion ignored Caiomhe. Cara was never going to be happy with how long they stayed around, whether it was an hour, a day or a week it wouldn't be enough, in her mind, and they had delayed long enough. If they wanted to make it to Skyfall within the closest timeframe they could manage they couldn't stay any longer. As much as the assassin wanted to stay, to catch up with the couple and let them know what had been happening in his life, know everything that had been happening in theirs, they couldn't risk it. He had done his best to hide his disappointment and having to leave so soon, but it showed in the soft sigh that Eurion released.

Instead, Eurion knelt down, being careful of Solise and his chest. Here, Cara and he were practically at eye level. She was still pouting and the assassin couldn't help the soft, sympathetic smile that he gave her. The expression would have looked unusual on the man considering all he did most of the time was frown, but for the witches it was normal, and it was the look he gave every time he had to leave them. The shifter wrapped her arms around Eurion's middle and the assassin placed his chin atop her head in a hug that seemed to swallow her whole, "I'll come and visit soon, I promise." Eurion didn't want to go, and he squeezed her tight to let her know. This was always the worst part, for both of them. Having had only a few friends up until the two witches he had formed a deep attachment and in his line of work that was dangerous. He never knew when or even if he would ever get to see them again every time he had to leave. It was probably why Cara was always mad that he didn't visit often and always had to leave, no matter how long he stayed.

Because if anything happened to him Eurion wouldn't be able to let the witches know and the Gods sure as hell wouldn't. They would be left in the dark wondering about what happened to their friend until they had to eventually conclude the worst. It was why the hug lasted longer than any of the others, longer than the ones he had currently shared with Sláine. No matter if he promised to come back it was never a guarantee, and Eurion always felt that sharp pang of guilt in his heart.

Cara stopped herself from squeezing too hard. She didn't want to hurt Eurion more no matter how badly she wanted the man to stay, "You better, otherwise, I'll come annoy you in hell." Her voice was muffled from where it was pressed into Eurion's chest, but she didn't care, and neither did Eurion, who pressed his own face into her hair.

Solise balanced herself on Eurion's shoulders as he knelt down, then as the moment got a little personal, reconsidered her placement all together. She didn't think she should be intruding on such a moment, but considering how Eurion had placed her there immediately and didn't encourage her to leave, she stayed put. But the moment had her looking back at her witch, at his reaction to the interaction. She wasn't disappointed.

Sláine had inched forward some more, his bag packed and ready to go, but he leaned into Caoimhe's back when he caught the gentle interaction between the two friends. The prince felt like he was dying, like his heart would burst from the sheer cuteness and gentleness between Eurion and Cara, and he forced his twin to bear his weight as he internally screamed. He had known that his assassin could be soft and affectionate, had been on the receiving end of it a couple of times, but it was entirely different watching from afar and seeing it happen to someone so close to Eurion, someone who risked never seeing their friend again every time he left. Sláine was on the verge of melting right then and there, his heart was so full of warmth and affection.

The prince smacked his brother's shoulder lightly, to get Caoimhe's attention, and hissed at him in Gaelic when the disgruntled man turned. "We are making sure he comes back to them." It was a demand, and Caoimhe knew that, but the eldest brother couldn't help but find it funny how intensely his twin was feeling about the matter.

Still, he humored Sláine and spoke in Gaelic as well. "Of course we are. I can't have him dying when you'd dig your own grave right next to him." Sláine bore his teeth into an irritated snarl, even if his cheeks bloomed red. Caoimhe snickered and shrugged his brother off. "Don't use me as your hiding place. He's not even looking at you."

Sláine pouted but dutifully moved over, and his eyes latched right back into Eurion. His assassin. His mate. Cara and Adelphia's friend who had no real promises of coming back alive. They were going to come back, if only to give them a reunion they deserved, where Eurion wasn't dying, and they actually had time to spend the visit together. He wanted to give them that much for all they've done for him and the others. Eurion, too, deserved to have his friends.

It got worse with time, the leaving. Part of it was Eurion’s own fault because he was fully aware he didn’t visit often enough, but the other part was just how busy he always was. A day wasn’t enough and he never had more than that as the years went on. If he had the time he would stay longer, visit more often, but the Gods kept him so damned busy or he was too far away to even considering popping by for a visit that it didn’t happen as much as any of them would like. They were his best friends. Up until now they were his only friends. He had never had to consider what it would be like if he wound up dead because he had no one who cared. But he did now. It was the entire reason why he was more careful than he used to be, took longer with jobs and trying not to be so reckless so his friends wouldn’t be left in the dark.

The shadows and the dark were his domain, and Cara and Adelphia had no reason to be there. Not now, not ever, in any sense of the word and Eurion wasn’t about to let them step as much as foot into his world. Cara wouldn’t be able to bare it and as much as Adelphia was strong and would be for her partner, would crumble from the inside if they ever found out he died. The healer put up the front, but Eurion knew what she was like underneath, knew neither of them would cope if he didn’t come back. Eurion didn’t think he would cope, either, never seeing them again, if things were different.

All the promises he made to the two of them, they meant nothing, they all were aware they held no weight but the words were an acknowledgement of the love that he held. Because he would always try and come back, no matter what, he would try and it would be enough. Eurion loved the two women and to think he would one day be a source of such pain had him holding Cara tighter.

The assassin didn’t want to let go, didn’t want to say goodbye but the others were waiting. Eurion pressed the softest kiss to the top of Cara’s head, moving her away so he could press their foreheads together as he spoke, “I’ll come back, dovey, I always do.” Their noses bumped together and Eurion stood, moving to the healer who seemed to have broken her mask of uncaring to one that almost rivalled Cara’s - soft, worried. The assassin did the same with Adelphia, a hug, a soft kiss and pressed their foreheads together in a silent conversation between them. They didn’t need words to convey what they were thinking.

Finally, even though time was moving too fast for Eurion to comprehend, he pulled away, “Let’s go.” He didn’t look at any of them as he walked through that door. One look back and he would crumble and beg to stay another hour.

Sláine's heart went out to Eurion and his friends, understanding on some level how difficult it was to leave people you loved and not know if you'd come back. The prince couldn't count how many times he had left some place without the promise of ever returning—how many times the staff heaved a collective sigh when the twins returned safely after months of being gone on some battlefield or attempt at alliance. Sláine couldn't picture what it would be like to leave the only two friends he had, over and over again, when at the mercy of vengeful Gods that had no care for their assassin's life.

Whatever happened, Sláine was bringing Eurion back to Cara and Adelphia free of his shackles, so he could freely visit them whenever he wanted, however long Cara deemed it necessary. He made that promise to himself, silently, as he watched his assassin interact with the women and felt his heart burst and melt at the same time. Eurion was so sweet, even if he tried to act like he wasn't. He was sweet, and kind, and cared so deeply about the little things he had in his life. Cara, Adelphia—maybe even Sláine, one day. And the prince would hand over anything in the world, sacrifice himself to any God he needed to, just to keep the man happy and free to make good on that care and love he often hid so well.

Caoimhe, eyeing his twin and fleetingly glancing between Sláine and Eurion, decided to be the one to step in for his brother because the stubborn ass refused to move, even as Eurion started to leave. The eldest twin slung an arm around the assassin's shoulders, uncaring about the indignant noise Solise made as she was dislodged and forced to fly. "Cridhe furasta, my friend. You will see them again soon enough. I believe even the Gods could not withstand the fury your little dove would hold if you were kept away for too long." Behind them, Aideen dragged Sláine by the horn out the door and scolded him for dallying. Caoimhe ignored them in favor of patting Eurion on the shoulder and giving Solise her perch back. "My brother, too."

Solise whipped her tail at Caoimhe's face, unhappy with him, and butted her head against Eurion's chin in a soft move of comfort. She had no words to offer, none that she knew would make the situation less painful for the assassin. She held the knowledge of Sláine's determination to give Eurion back to the witches, but she kept it to herself. It wouldn't do anything to help, not when Caoimhe had already said the same thing essentially.

Eurion was less than happy at the switch between Solise and Caoimhe's arm. He knew the motion was in good faith and the offer of reassurance but the spirit had been doing more for him than the prince way, and was glad to have her back moments later. The assassin couldn't help but reach up with his free hand to scratch behind her eyes, running his fingers over the soft fur that he found there. Was it always going to be this way when it came to anything remotely connected with Sláine? To feel attached and connected to those that were linked to his prince? Maybe it was just because he was a High Witch, he didn't know. He doubted that it would be like that if his mate had been Fae but he could only guess. There was no way for him to know now, but he didn't mind, it was one of those answers that he was okay with leaving in the dark,

"I appreciate the sentiment." Was all Eurion could bring himself to say. He didn't know what else to say on the matter. He did appreciate Caoimhe's words and as much as he tried to let them bring him a little hope that he would, in fact, make it back to his friends, he knew all too well that nothing was set in stone, especially with the Gods. Their hold on him, their magic, seemed to be getting stronger. The way they used it against him. How they had been able to manipulate a scenario that Eurion hadn't even seen was something that they hadn't done before and he was more terrified of that prospect than anything else. More than Sláine's magic.

Because if they were becoming stronger what else would they be able to do to him, to their realm? If the magic they possessed was increasing in strength and they were able to manipulate parts of life that they either hadn't done before or had once again regained that ability? Eurion didn't know what they would be able to do, what they would want to do next. Especially if they wanted to pass through from their realm into the assassins. He needed to work out what they wanted and figure things out before it got worse. He didn't want to see anything bad happen to the twins, even Aideen, because he wasn't able to understand enough, quick enough or be good enough to even do so.

"If we want to make it to Dalthia for the beginning of Skyfall we're going to have to hurry to make up time." Regular breaks be damned, he would be fine. His main priority was getting to his home lands without any more interruptions.

Caoimhe was a little disappointed, especially when it was clear that Solise was more welcome than him, but he didn't let himself take it too personally. Eurion had just left his best friends, with no knowledge of if he'd ever return to them, and he was still recovering from a near-fatal attack. So the prince hung back a little to give Eurion space, though made sure to stay close because he wasn't about to leave the man all alone—especially when Sláine was dead-set on avoiding him.

That being said, he knew if Sláine saw him allowing the assassin to push himself beyond his limits, he'd end up skinned alive. Caoimhe sighed and ran a hand through his hair to pull it up into a high ponytail, which uncovered the shaved sides of his head. At the same time, his horns and teeth disappeared with a quick mask. "We can hurry, but you are using that balm and taking at least five-minute breaks if you need it. I'm not getting flayed because you're stubborn." It should be obvious who would be doing the flaying, given the group dynamics, but he didn't specify either way. "It won't hurt us for time that much. You dropping dead will."

Solise cooed and leaned into Eurion's scratches and pets, happy to receive them and to be back on her favorite perch. Then the spirit rubbed up against the assassin as best as she could from her precarious position. She recognized Eurion's need for comfort and his growing worry, seeing it in the familiar creases of his forehead and eyes that Sláine often got when stressing over something. Barely noticeable, unless you were as close as she was to the face. Eurion having his mate with him would do wonders with his anxiety, she thought, but unfortunately their situation was complicated. So she did her best to radiate what she could of the prince's aura, the little scraps she shared with him, to give Eurion a little bit of peace of mind and comfort. The Gods would always be beings to contest with, lurking in the backs of their minds as they continued to become more powerful. Solise couldn't take them out of the picture, as much as she wished she could. Her best was all she could offer.

"I know my limits, I'll take breaks when I need them." Eurion knew, deep down, that he probably would push through the pain as long as he was able to do so. He already felt guilty for causing them to delay while he recovered enough to keep going and he did not want to keep that theme going for the entire trip to Dalthia. A part of him was aware that Sláine may be able to sense when his tolerance was thinning through the bond but he wasn't concerned with that. If he ended up catching his mate giving him a glare that told him to slow down then he would. Until it was noticeable, Eurion would go as far as he could without stopping. No more delays, no more injuries, they had to make it to Dalthia and they would do it by the skin of his teeth if Eurion had any say in the matter.

The assassin was grateful for Solise being a comfort on his shoulders. The spirit nudging at his chin and cheek was helping his mind level out slightly, but not enough to stop the bulk of his worry from disappearing. That would only go away if he could get things sorted with Sláine. Eurion prayed that the rest of the trip wasn't going to be immensely awkward and that maybe they would have time to be together and check in. He wanted to talk, as much as the prospect of facing his mate in a time when he was still unsure of what he would even say, but Eurion as Caoimhe had said, was stubborn. Even more so when it came to the man he was fated to be with. If he couldn't get past his prince's magic then it would all be for nothing and he may as well just have rejected the bond in its entirety. But he didn't want that, he didn't want to leave him and hoped that he would be able to fix things.

"I'm not going to drop dead and you're not going to be flayed so don't worry." It was a bit hypocritical of him, to tell Caoimhe not to worry when he was, in fact, worrying about multiple things at once. But he wasn't going to let that show, not now, not for a long time, if he could help it.