Vasill's Rightful King

his breathing was completely out of whack, his eyes slightly wide as they entered his chambers even though he knew what he was walking in on. only now it seemed much more bloodier than it had when he left and rushed to his parents chambers. luka had stabbed the man so many times he didn’t even think he could guess the number of times he punctured him – as if that wasn’t enough to kill him, he slit his throat too. “i’m trying,” he inhaled sharply, letting it out slowly. putting effort into calming himself down, clearly. his father seemed so calm, collected. it was rather odd.

off luka went after a stiff bob of his head, gathering cloths and a bucket of water that would surely need changed several times  to clean the giant puddle of blood in his room. “people can’t know about this.” he eventually spoke up, voice small, unsure. “you aren’t - you aren’t going to put me away for this, are you?” there were times he questioned whether his parents loved him enough - which was probably his own fault for being so disinterested in many things such as his royal duties. he wasn’t as close with them as he had been a few years ago when he was much younger. but was the king the type of man to throw his own son in the dungeons to rot?

By the time the boy arrived back, Grey had went and retrieved one of his axes. He approached the body when he got back and rolled it over with his foot, grimacing at the sight. His son had really done quite the number. He was swelling with pride. At the question, he lifted his head to give his son a good look over, quirking his brow. “Put you away?” He repeated. “Son, this is nothing to worry about. These things happen,” he claimed. “It’s happened to me and of course it’ll happen to you kids. Daddy is going to take care of it, though.”

Walking the halls. Eryk began his search, stopping only to ask they had seen their king. How hard could it be to find him? He wasn’t anywhere Eryk would normally run into the man. Groaning Eryk sighed, finally coming to the Library doors. Noises coming from the other side. Of course the crown prince should had guessed.

Simply swinging open the doors, Eryk made his way in acting innocently as he spotted his old man, some whore straddling his lap. “I hate to save your partner from having his balls chopped off and added to the collection. However I wish to speak with you.” His words were emotionless.The way he felt he had to be around his father.

Grey was caught up in the moment, not even hearing the door to the library swing open. He had very little care about being caught in the middle of any of his acts. Word had gotten around the castle and Vasill of his actions and the consequences that were brought down on those he was caught with. Yet, every once in awhile, he still found a pretty little thing pressed against him, whispering dirty nothings in his ear.

The words must have brought the young man back to reality because with a squeak of embarrassment, he was up, clothes fixed and hurrying out the door past Grey’s son.

Grey’s eyes narrowed towards his oldest and fingers impatiently began drumming against the arm of his chair. “What do you need, Eryk? I was busy.”

“So about that task you wanted me to do?”

Grey eyed the young mage, definitely taking note of the blush. He always knew the young man harbored a crush on him. It wasn’t a rumor around the castle, but he could tell. Whether the other didn’t approach him out of fear for his husband taking his manhood or because he didn’t want to truly get involved with the man -- he didn’t know. But, that blush had him thinking that enough was enough.

A king without his guards, that wasn’t safe. He either thought he didn’t need them or he was more than capable of handling himself. “Earth, more or less what I specialize in. Making Vasill the perfect home for me.”

“My scent is familiar but my first name is not common enough?” Grey asked, clearly amused by the mage, eyes still trained on the small golem working for the young man. “Grey Slynt,” he introduced himself finally after moments of silence. He was in awe of the man’s powers, it wasn’t something he could help. “Vasill is very... attuned to the ground. I feel we have the best weather as well.”

“I’m aware they need a target. I’ve heard plenty word of one kingdom being against another and one being blamed for some dragon crisis,” Grey admitted. Dragons were the least of their worries. Dragons could be tamed, they could be shot down. Giants weren’t so simple. He kept that to himself, though. “A humble guider? I doubt that.”

Grey chuckled as the other pounced atop him. His arms quickly wrapping around his husband’s waist to keep him steady and prevent him from leaving him. If he had it his way, Gil would never be away from his side. They both had duties that kept them busy, though, so that’d have to wait til Eryk took over the crown. 

“—-Strip if you must,” he replied with an airy ease to his tone, “You know perfectly well I’d be the last to complain.” With a simple shrug of his shoulders, Mako sat up in the large bed, pulling the sheets from his topless form and sighing. “I’m well aware of the meeting. Half the reason I came here was to find some peace to collect my thoughts in,” he explained.

However at the other’s request to catch up, a grin worked it’s way onto Mako’s face. “Is that so?” His head canted to one side as that smile twisted, turning wry and almost playful. “Well as you can see I’m very busy today, but I suppose I could find some time to squeeze into my schedule so that we can catch up.”

“And, all that I ask for helping acquire that kingdom is that you put it somewhere with mild weather,” Grey claimed with a grin. He was quick to follow through when he was given permission to strip. He was not shy in anyway with anyone, but more so specifically with his fellow kings. They’d all seen each other bare as the day they were born, so walking around with no robe or shirt was nothing. 

Once the shirt was dropped carelessly to the floor, he walked around the corner to finally spot the man sitting on his bed, offering him a smile at the words. Busy. “Oh, yes, you seem absolutely swamped with work. How ever will I deal with not being the center of attention?” he joked with the man, not even bothering to ask as he moved to climb into the bed, plopping down on his back next to the bed and letting out a sigh of relief and relaxation. It had been a long trip, after all.

“Have you been to the other land yet? Metia?”

“You needn’t worry about offending me. I’m not in anyway thin-skinned. I would, however, watch your mouth around the other kings of Essen. They are not as... laid back as I am,” Grey admitted softly. He lifted his glass to take a sip of the mead he’d been given, swishing it around in his mouth for a moment as he listened to the young man’s words, considering them and the taste of the beverage at once. “I cannot see them coming to Essen anytime soon. Most fear we are cannibals and they will be eaten as soon as they step past the wall,” he explained. “You have a point, but you will come to learn that I have little concern for right and wrong.”

Grey chuckled softly, not further commenting on the reckless part. He definitely was being a ‘little snot’ about it. He wouldn’t admit that aloud, but it kind of tickled him pink to annoy the other kings and queens with his shenanigans. He turned back to face Sigmis. “Not nearly as beautiful as you or Gil,” he told the other.

Grey hardly seemed to deflate at the scold. He was used to it. Sigmis had to scold him... probably ten times a day. And, that was definitely a good day. “A war? Who said I am proposing war?” he asked the man with a quirked brow. He had thought about it, but he wouldn’t actually say it aloud until he was sure they could take the lands. “Reckless? Sigmis, you wound me. I’m never reckless,” he lied as he turned to look around. “Their men aren’t as beautiful as ours.”

luka wrung his hands together nervously, his green hues flicking wildly between his father and mother - hoping that he wouldn’t stir awake too. he didn’t want everyone to know but he wasn’t sure why exactly, of all people, he went to his father. he just knew in his gut that he would know what to do, how to treat this situation. “what?” he breathed out, eyes widening even more than they already were before shaking his head quickly. “n-no.” he would never–why would he ever kill his twin? that’d be killing a part of himself.

the gentleman in waiting should have saw his demise coming, he was a filthy spy anyhow. no one could fool him though, luka was very bright and analytical. “h-he’s in my chambers i don’t - i don’t know what to do i-i can’t think straight.” he whispered out. which was strange for him, it was an odd sensation to experience. he almost always knew what to do, but here he was running to dear dad for help.

Grey had moved to the edge of his bed and used the time to wipe his eyes. Clearly, unaffected by his son’s admission and the way he was acting. He turned to look over his shoulder, making sure that his husband was still asleep. He didn’t need Gil waking up or finding out about this. Even though, not much could be kept from the man for too long. He stood from the bed and used a hand to guide his blood-covered son out of the room and towards his chambers down the hall. 

When they arrived to his chambers, Grey pushed the door open to get a look at the scene, scanning it for a moment before he turned back to Luka. “You need to breath and compose yourself,” he ordered the young prince. “Go grab a bucket of water and cloths. If a maid or guard asks you what you’re doing, tell them you haven’t a clue what it’s for and that I asked for it,” he ordered him. 

”Kneeling at the beasts stomach a hand pressed to the ground, from his finger tips rock started rising and swirling. His hand stopped about knee high when the rocks came together and a small golem was formed. Leaning in he blowed along the small golem giving it life. “Gather the claws ad fangs for me, try to make it clean as possible.” Standing up he positioned so he was facing towards the man. “Orion Howl it’s a pleasure to meet you—-”?

Grey watched as the small golem got to work, amazed by the power. No matter how many mages he would encounter in his life, their powers would never cease to put him in a state of awe. Such power at their fingertips with little effort after their training was complete at the institute. He wasn’t envious, though. He would take brute strength over most anything. It was still impressive.

“King Slynt of Vasill,” he introduce himself without taking his eyes off the golem. “An Earth mage?” He wondered curiously. “Or, do you dabble with life of inanimate objects?”

J’argo then planted the staff solidly on the ground before looking up to the other, “Go ahead and get a good grip,” he offered, nodding to the wooden staff, “And try to keep a clear mind alright?” Once either of them were ready, J’argo closed his eyes and prepared to cast the spell, only to shoot his eyes open at the last second. “Sweet Metia,” he exclaimed turning to face the other for a second, “I don’t even think I introduced myself or asked for your name.” He shook his head, “Apologies, I’m J’argo Ibarra. Court mage at your service.”

As Grey moved to take hold as the mage ordered, he was immediately stopped by the exclaim, his hand shooting back as if it were on fire. He stared at the young man in confusion, wondering what could have possibly hit him to get a reaction such as that. His lips twitched into a smile before he began laughing at the words. Introductions. So proper. Sigmis would have loved the man before him.

He stood to his full height and tilted over to give the man a respectful bow. “Grey Slynt, King of Vasill. It is a pleasure.”

He certainly didn’t need a mage to wreck it all. Mages already were feared.

The flattering remark was chased out of his head and he exchanged a sheepish smile with the king. “Initially, yes, since I only knew what was normal. After much teaching, magic is my normalcy. If that makes sense?”

Grey turned to look over the mage, offering him a smile. Dorian had been at his side for too many years to count. He trusted the man as much as he trusted himself, as much as the other kings of Essen. “It makes sense, I suppose. Again, I don’t know much about magic. You’d probably have an easier understanding from one of the Luns,” he suggested. 

“Savage, barbaric... all words I’ve had used against me,” Grey admitted with little concern with how the other could take that. They weren’t cannibals -- they seemed to be more civilized than Metia. But, he wasn’t here to argue for their side. Just observe. “I do not need them to be inviting to me. A few of my people would like to migrate here. I only need to make sure it would be safe for them to do so. I could care very little what the foolish kings of this land think of me and how open arms they are towards me.”