"I would burn the world for you" (OxO Closed)

Bel's careful, almost hesitant to slowly begin running his finger down a large slash across Nico's chest. His skin is rough, torn, and healed over more times than Bel can count, all of it stretched over strong muscle. Nico may be lean, but his figure is deceptive. Bel knows knows that the man can easily throw the prince's weight over his shoulder like it's nothing.

"They're… beautiful," he says softly, and not because of their appearance. They vary from mangled to jagged to crisp and purposeful–none of them appealing to look at. But Bel knows that their signs of Nico's strength. It's him surviving, living, staying alive another day for the good of his cause and his people. "And don't deny it or I just might try to drown you in this tub." He smiles and leans forward, kissing Nico's lips before moving to kiss his jaw and neck. "You're beautiful."

With one hand, he traces the lines of scars down Nico's chest, but with the other he gently caresses his jaw. He loves this, just being with Nico and being able to be in his presence. He's warm, with both the water and the close proximity of their bodies. Bel hums, nibbling softly right below Nico's ear. "Thank you, but we swore no more lies." He smiles. "Stop degrading yourself, love."

And Bel means it–Bel's no stranger to his own beauty. There's been plenty of comments made by diplomats that makes it nearly impossible to forget. Bel knows that he's pretty, but he knows that Nico is handsome. Very much so. Bel kisses his way back up to Nico's lips, spending extra time to savor the sweet contact.

Bel hums into the kiss and moves his arms to encircle Nico's neck. Gods, it had only been three days, but Bel had missed this. He had missed this before he even knew Nico. There was always a hidden yearning he harbored when he had been alone at the palace with nothing but the evasive servants and his father on the imposing throne. He played croquet and wondered what it would be like to play with another. He cooked candlelight meals at midnight for one, unable to reason why he felt so empty doing so.

And now it all makes sense. "I'm glad we can do this," he mumbles against Nico's lips. "I'm so glad you chose me."

The bleeding heart within Bel's chest does loop-de-loops at the words. He's entirely unexperienced with the whole idea of love, but that doesn't mean he's not sure this is it. Nico has fully helped Bel realize an entirely new side of himself. He's helped Bel through more than Nico could ever know–his father, his kingdom, the history, himself. Gods, where would he be if it weren't for that terrifying, fateful day four weeks prior.

"You're a sap," Bel says simply when Nico pulls away, though his smile is just as big. He finds himself closing his eyes and leaning into the other man's touch. There's a slight bit of commotion outside of the tent that startles Bel from his daze. "As much as I love your sappiness, I believe you have places to be and people who are waiting on you."

Bel laughs softly, sliding away from Nico so they can have their space to wash. He's reluctant to leave the contact but it's been a few days for them both and Bel would like to be relatively put-together for when he makes another public appearance in front of a crowd that despises him and his bloodline.

"Alright, if you insist." He studies the rack of soaps beside him. There isn't much. There's a few bars and a large vial with some clear-ish liquid inside of it. There could easily be more hiding in some cabinet somewhere. He pops the cork and takes a careful smell. "Is this a three-in-one?" Bel inquires, holding up the vial. "My gods, Nico, don't tell me you use a three-in-one to get clean?"

"I can't believe you," Bel shakes his head, though a laugh prevents him from being too serious. "Oh my gods, how has your hair not fallen out yet?" To prove his point, Bel sets down the vial and reaches forward to card his dampened hands through Nico's hair. "You should be calling that a miracle, sir." He laughs again and shakes his head. "I'll let this one slide, but honestly, when we arrive in Blakkast, I'm making sure that you know the difference between it all and understand their crucial separation."

Granted it's the only thing they have, Bel hands the vial over to Nico and grabs one of the bars for himself. He dunks it beneath the water and works it up to a proper lather before washing himself with it. He doesn't need his hair washed and he'd rather die than use bar soap or three-in-one to wash his face, so Bel is done very quickly. "I'm going to get dressed," he says, leaning forward to kiss Nico's nose before standing and stepping out of the tub.

Bel's wraps a towel around his waist and ducks out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, searching for something to properly wear. He finds just a casual tunic and dark slacks that would be at least semi-elevated. He is still a prince… Well, it's his best bet. Bel's drying himself off and putting on his daywear when the suit he bought back in the first village catches his eye–hanging up right in Nico's wardrobe beside his own clothes. Now that he's here and he knows of the magic lingering everywhere, Bel knows one of the kind shopkeepers had been a mage and trasported his suit all the way across the lands to Nico's bedroom. It's sweet. He's going to have to make them a card.

Bel's standing with his back to the door, shirtless, and still staring at the suit when Nico enters from behind.

"You don't think it's too fornal?" Bel asks, tilting his head as he stares at the suit. It's fine, well made and even better tailored. It's an expensive purchase, one that Bel still plans on paying Nico back for, in money or another form of currency. "I don't want others believing I'm stuck up and above them all?" With what he can see of Nico's closet, he doesn't have anything nearly as formal as Bel's blue suit.

It's funny how the new suit is considered casual for Bel's former life. There's no real gold in its fabric, no expensive drapery, no luxury brand to its label–yet Bel knows its too fine for this casual atmosphere. "Should I wait for Blakkast? From what I remember, my cousin dies have a knack for grand dinners."

Bels nose scrunches at Nico's words. "They already want to throw me into the river, I don't need to give them any more of a reason to." Taking a few steps forward, Bel shuts the door to the wardrobe and grabs his shirt from where he left it on the bed. "And I do appreciate your protectiveness–" Bel pulls his shirt over his head. "But I can handle a few looks, dirty or dirty. I'm not made of glass, remember." He smiles in what he hopes is a reassuring manner.

"I don't know exactly how formal she'll be though," Bel says as he sits beside Nico. "I saw her about a decade ago and that's when she was trying her damndest to please her father at every turn. He was a theatrical man." Sella would have to be around thirty now, five years older than Miran and eight older than Bel. "And I'm sure you'd look absolutely lovely in a fine suit," Bel leans in very close, just barely ghosting his lips over Nico's.

"I'll be fine," Bel reassures. He knows he will. When they get to Blakkast, Bel will reunite with family he hasn't seen in a decade. He'll be safe in a palace without having to worry about beasts or bandits ready to slit his throat. There will be a luxury bed and a fine dining hall and an entire library to get lost in. He's had a significant progression in his vocabulary since he was twelve, maybe he'll be able to read the top shelf books now.

"Not all suits are restrictive," Bel answers. "I'm sure the royal tailor will be able to fit you into something that'll be able to move well." He smiles and kisses Nico once and then twice. "I'd love to see you in a fine outfit."

Bel watches Nico pull away, and then studies exactly where he stashes his weapons away. One in the boot. Bel tried that once, trying to be like Miran, but it quickly got uncomfortable and he had to remove it instantly. It's odd that Nico should wear so many weapons when their camp has been deemed so safe. He'll ask later, maybe at lunch.

"As much as id love so watch you do paperwork over your shoulder, I have apology-birthday-favor brownies to make my sister. I need her on her good side when I ask for a sleeping tonic." Bel looks up at Nico, towering over him. He doesn't mind it like that. He feels safe instead of small. "If I ever need you, I'll certainly call."

Bel hums as he thinks, accepting the kiss. He wouldn't be too upset. He knows it's for his own protection. "Could it possibly be someone I've already been acquainted with?" The last thing Bel needs is a guard who doesn't know him. Kaillas, Cassian, Laurent, Braxton–one of them would be best. Bwl doesn't have to worry about them throwing him into a river.

"Do you take me for a housewife?" Bel smiles and stands to kiss Nico again and again. "Yes, I'll bring you lunch. Brownie and whatever else you'd like me to make." For having such a small appetite and disdain towards eating, Bel certainly loves to cook and bake. He had every birthday for the staff written down in his room and he would bake them a cake whenever the day would arrive. Once he reestablishes himself in Araniel, he fully intends to continue the tradition.

(sorry I'm so inactive today ajfhjsk we had a massive party with all 60 of my family members and I never got a minute of alone time)

"I'd prefer without the hovering," Bel admits. He's had enough hovering through his life. He'll without a doubt be with at least one of his sisters, so needing a conversation between him and a guard won't be necessary. Bel will get his social fill catching up with either Val or Treya. Miran will without a doubt try to barge in on the war meetings.

Bel pulls away with a teasing smile. "Hmm, I suppose I might have time for something." And Bel knows that Noco will eat absolutely anything Bel will bring. He could layer grass and leaves on a plate and call it salad and Noco would eat every bite. "Alright, goodbye, I'll see you at lunch." He squeezes Nico's biceps and them lets him leave the tent.

Now alone, Bel takes a moment to tidy up the tent, guessing where mostly everything goes, and then leaves into the clearing himself. The tent his siblings are staying is isn't too far. Miran is likely awake already, the oldest loving to rise with the sun.

(!! good luck moving asljd)

When Nico enters the war tent, Miran is already waiting in there. He stands in the corner, arms crossed and staring at the table in the center. The Crown Prince watches the blond king closely as he strides in. At first, Miran had been forbidden into the tent, but with a few heatedly-delivered points, he had been given access. If they're marching into Blakkast and then into Araniel, they're going to need a man who knows both rulers well and the kingdoms inside and out.

"You took your time," Miran notes, catching a small lovebite right behind his ear. The prince bites his tongue, quickly banishing all possible thoughts of his little brother and the king together in a very nauseating fashion.

Bel finds his siblings' tent and ducks inside of it. There's hardly any furniture–just two rooms off of the main one with simple beds and blankets set up in them both. Treya is sitting on a mat in the main room in front of a small mirror. She's messing with her hair, trying to get it into a reasonable style. Val is in one of the rooms sorting through her belongings. Bel doesn't have to read her mind to know that she's anxious without her weapons, without a knife or dart on her side.

"Good morning," Bel greets his sisters, moving to sit behind Treya so he can quickly braid her hair back. When they get to Blakkast, he'll have to help her put it in her favorite locs. "I assume Miran is having a ball arguing with soldiers and kings?"

Treya snorts and shakes her head. "He stormed out at dawn. I don't think he slept at all last night."

Miran fades himself into the background as he watches the men speak. There's nothing that directly effects him here, nothing involving either of his parents' kingdoms. It'll all come eventually, so the Crown Prince stands with his arms firmly crossed and he waits. He keeps his eyes off of the king–Nicandros making him very irritable for a multitude of reasons, and only about half of them involve Bel.

Once both of his sisters are ready, Bel finds the mess tent and then the kitchen attached to the back of it. Val and Treya had already had breakfast delivered to their tent, the small portions easily consumed in privacy. Bel hadn't eaten anything since the dinner the night before, but he's not hungry, so he doesn't worry about it. Back in Araniel, Val had been banned from the stove and Treya had been banned from the pantry. The older was never sure how to fully work it and she never asked for help regarding it, causing an unnecessary amount of kitchen fires. Treya enjoyed stealing a variety of different foods to dunk in various mixtures and cause various reactions.

So Bel is the designated chef out of the siblings because Miran has never had the time nor patience to learn. The kitchen, thank the gods, is empty as the trio enter. Val finds a nice stool and Treya sits upon a countertop as Bel begins to search through different cupboards to find the proper utensils and ingredients. He would obviously keep it to a minimum, using ingredients that would easily perish on the road. Something fresh, something simple, something that Nico will love.