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

Bel nods, sighing and suppressing the yawn that comes over him. "I would like that." Bel pictures sitting on a couch just like this, but in their own home instead of guests in another. There's a fire going, there's a sleeping cat in Bel's lap, and Nico is pressed right against Bel as he dozes. "Would you like a dog?" Bel asks upon imagining a sleeping Labrador on the rug.

Bel reaches for a soft blanket draped over the back of the couch, unfolding it with a quick flick of his wrist before febtly laying it across their laps.

"That would be nice," Bel says softly. His nose scrunched at the reminder of medicine. He's always hated medicine. When he was a boy, Mathilde had to practically wrangle him to get Bel to take cough syrup for his colds. Looking back, Bel definitely decides he needs to grant her a raise. "I guess I'll take it," he sighs. "Where did you put the mask?"

He shifts away from Nico to look behind them. The tables are void of any of their belongings, leaving the only real plausibility to be within the bathroom. Except… Bel is sleepy and doesn't want to stand.Its a good thing he has a fiance who would do anything for him. "Could you get it for me?" He looks up at Nico through his lashes.

"Thank you," Bel says as Nico returns, his head tipped over the headrest so he can watch Nico in all his half-nakedness approach. However, he can't decide if he actually means his thanks. "And it won't happen again, love." A sigh. "What happened to me was a result of twenty two years of buildup. It's going to take a hell of a lot to get me to that state again before I'm middle aged."

Bel sighs and takes the mask from Nico, snapping it around the bottom part of his face in a smooth movement. It clicks into place, pinching at Bel's jawbone. His nose scrunched uncomfortably. He takes the vial of pink tinted medicine and screws it into the socket towards the left side of his face. As soon as it locks in, Bels eyes narrow. "Tastes like bad lemons," he notes, voice raspy and a little warped through the mask.

"It's not… terrible. Just unpleasant. I'll be fine." With a huff, Bel falls over to drape himself over Nico's lap. If Bel had to put a better name to the taste, he'd say maybe diluted dish soap that's been left in the corner of the kitchen for far too long. He's positive he'll grow used to the taste. He'll have to, for however long he's going to be living with Nico is going to be another day of medicine. Bel knows the frightening protectiveness that Nico harbors and knows that if he doesn't willingly take it, it wil be forced upon him.

"Do we want to go to the town for breakfast, or do we want to stay in the palace and eat with my family?" He asks as he looks up to Nico. "I'm fine with whichever. The town probably has more options but the palace has very talented chefs."

"I don't think she quite specializes in that field." Treya is a master of chemical warfare. Her potions are meant to poison and hinder, hardly to help and barely anything as simple as flavor enhancing. "I might ask though," Bel adds, hoping Nico would be satisfied with that.

"And I should be good to head into town," Bel answers. "As long as we don't have to climb anything or walk too much." It's just a breakfast rendezvous, maybe a little shopping. Nothing should tax Bel. After that, they'll return to their lovely room and sit in front of the massive mirror for hours as they untangle his locs. Bel takes another few long breaths, the bitter taste luckily fading the more he takes it. The mask is uncomfortable. Maybe when he sees Loven or Sella, he'll ask if they have one that doesn't pinch the square of his jaw.

"That sounds good to me," Bel responds, leaning into the feeling of Nico's fingers in his hair. "After we dress, we can go to one little nook my mother took me to. It's the only place I can remember, but I just remember their lovely eggs. Perfect sunny side up, well spiced, a good side of hashbrowns." Bel's mouth waters just thinking about it and it reminds him of the unpleasant taste in his mouth. "I hope it's still there."

It's been a decade since Bel has last been to Blakkast. He went with his mother and siblings, saw his cousins, spent all his time marveling at the waterfalls. He'd love to do it all again, just this time with Nico. However, before Bel can get too much into his little dream, there's another knock at the door. Bel sits up. "I think it's Lynn."

Behind the door is Lynn, her eyes wide and her arms full with two garment bags. "Hi," she greets, breathless. "I uh– found some stuff and the seamstress did some uh… minor adjustments. It's not fancy gut if you want fancy you can go back and um. Fix it." She practically shoves the two bags into Nico's arms. "Just ring if you need anything else!" She looks to Nico and then cranes her head to see Bel peering over the back of the couch. "Bye!" And then she scuttles away. The guard puma watches her go with a bored look.

"Oh, be nice to her–" Bel chastises softly. "She's doing her job just fine. She's just a little jumpy, that's all." Back in Araniel, Bels always had to deal with his fair share of skittish staff. They hardly talked to bel when all he wanted was a conversation and never saw him as an equal–instead a far superior being yhat could smite them if anything were to go mildly wrong. Bel's always hated that, but it's simply their instinct around royalty.

Bel sighs at Nico's demand, just a small smile hidden beneath his mask. He unlaces the tie holding the sides together and allows the robe to fall down his shoulders and pool around his waist. He sticks his arms up to allow Nico to slide his shirt over his hair. The shirt fits as well as it could without having to go into a tailor. It's a dark gray color with a few teal accents, the colors of Blakkast. "Not bad," he muses. The material is very soft.

Bel laces the top of his newly acquired shirt, cinching it in a practiced manner. After he's done, he finally removes his mask and takes a long, deep breath. There are mirrors indents on the squares of his jaw from where the contraption had especially dug into his skin. As soon as he sees Sella, he must ask for a larger size. His first few breaths of air are much crisper, cleaner than he's noticed in weeks.

"Love–" Bel almost laughs. "I can put om my own trousers, thank you." Despite his words, Bel still steps into them and kisses Nico firmly when their faces meet. "Thank you," he says again, quietly. "For everything."

"No, love, you saved my life and introduced me to a new world. I thank you for everything." Another few kisses, hoping that they can smooth out Nico's frown. "And yes, we should get going. I hope I remember the back way out. The main entrance goes right by the dining hall and I know my cousins will be overjoyed to see me." He sighs, resting his head on Nico's collarbone. "I don't have the energy to deal with all eight of them right now. Maybe for lunch. After a nap." He smiles and pulls away, finding his boots sitting by the bathroom to slip on.

He pockets the key sitting on the entry-side table and looks back to Nico. "We all ready?"

"Silent and swift," Bel repeats with a small smile as he opens the door and leads Nico by the hand. They pass the puma resting on the top of the staircase, Bel making sure to stop and scratch her head before descending the stairs. After the first flight, they find themselves in a long hallway. It smells of food and there are young, chattering voices through a large arch in the hallway. Dining hall. There should be an exit near the kitchen… Easy to get food and goods in and out without dragging it through all of the castle. All to familiar with watching his steps within palace walls, Bel drags Nico past the opening, where the prince catches a brief glance of his cousins all around a large table. Loven sits at the head beside an empty chair, looking slightly out of place with her pale skin and scarlet hair.

Luckily, nobody seems to notice, and they continue to the kitchens. There are a couple chefs milling about, talking of the latest morning gossip in Blakkian. Bel notes every word but doesn't care enough about Hildred and Mason to bother staying to listen. He offers an apologetic smile as he weaves past them, muttering apologies in their native language until they reach the open door allowing the morning air into the kitchen.

"You alright?" Bel asks, noting Nico's relieved sigh when they're finally on the streets of Blakkast. Unlike Araniel, the palace here connects straight to the surrounding village–no walls, no moats, no awaiting death traps for any intruders. When Bel was little, he thought it absurd for the castle to blend so seamlessly with the town. Now Bel only wants the same for the kingdom awaiting for him. Oh, how nice it would be to wake up and immedietly find the morning market. He would fill his rooms with baubles and trinkets made my kind old women and wide-eyed children. He would stock up on countless spices and learn of brand new imported fruit. Yes. Yes, that would be very nice.

Bel squeezes Nico's hand a little tighter and begins to drag him through the crowd. Bare of anything to prove him royal, Bel mostly weaves through the population without trouble. There are a few bold shopkeepers who belt and brag of their goods, trying to get Bel to stop and look at them, but the prince is far too hungry for shopping. He has a mission. "I think it should be around this corner?" Bel furrows his brow and rounds the block. There it stands. It looks slightly different then Bel remembers, but he knows quite a bit can happen in a decade. The sign has been repainted and the cartoony egg looks a little sillier. The outdoor patio houses many guests, smiling and sipping their teas as they await their breakfast. The surrounding flowerbeds are full of indigo and white peonies. Bel smiles. "It's still here."

If Nico wasn't able to handle the Blakkian palace, Bel wonders if he'll ever be able to endure Araniel's. The walls are colder, the floors are bare, the throne room pulses with power that causes even Bel to grow nauseous. Blakkast has a full dining table, the children around them laughing freely and stretching across the table for an extra bread roll. Perhaps it could warm when Bel's father is gone, but he's never quite been hopeful. There's a reason Bel avoids the hallway in which they found his mother's corpse. It smells like soot and blood. The walls sometimes scream.

Shaking away his memories, Bel leads Nico towards the entrance. He can already smell the eggs and hash, making his stomach grumble the closer they get. The young hostess greets them with a smile before leading them towards a newly cleaned table in the center of the restaurant. Before Bel's able to take a seat, he hears someone yell his name. He straightens, searching the crowd until his eyes land on a tall sous chef with shoulder-length black hair and eyes darker than ebony. "Bel? My gods!" They drop their pans and scuttle through the open kitchen to the dining area.

It only takes a moment for Bel to recognize them as Madden, a friend he had made back when he was a boy. "Mads?" Bel answers, abandoning his chair in favor of hugging his friend. He switches almost immediately to Blakkian, knowing that Mads is hardly fluent in common. "It's been too long!"

"Well, a little hard to find anybody with the borders closed for the past decade," Mads snorts, bringing their hands up to ruffle at Bel's hair. They look behind the prince, seeing the blonde awaiting him at a chair. "I'll leave you to it, but we must hang out before you leave again. I have far too much to tell you." Mads smiles at Bel, then to Nico before ducking back to the kitchen for the morning rush.

Bel laughs disbelievingly, shaking his head as he takes a place across from Nico. "An old friend. We used to love coming here as kids. Who knew they would get a job here?"

"Me too–" Bel responds, leaning back in his chair to catch a glance into the kitchen. Mads is smiling wide, dimples in their tanned cheeks and glossy, curly hair pulled back into a bun. "Gods, what are the odds?" Bel finds his own smile growing. As much as he, erm, appreciates Nico's friends, he hardly considers them his own. They're harsh and tough and probably still think of Bel as some blubbering weak link that managed to seduce their rock solid leader. No, Bel needs people who know of spice racks and fine tailoring and the delicate art of book binding. Who needs a sword when Bel has plenty of pens to share?

An elderly man approaches their table with a notepad in his wrinkled hands. He asks for drink orders, and Bel just responds with their finest warm tea. After getting Nico's order, he nods and shuffles away. Bel turns his attention to the menu, noting how it's all written in Blakkast's sprawling script. "Do you need any translating?" Bel asks with a raised eyebrow. He's already decided on the dish he remembers so fondly from his childhood. While he ordered from the kids menu, his mother had asked for an Eggs Benedict with a side of rosemary hash. Bel wants the same.

Bel raises an eyebrow at Nico's hold on his hand, but doesn't say anything. He's sure the old man taking their order won't try to flirt with Bel, so it's highly unlikely they'll have a repeat of last time. Bel has to repress his shudder thinking about what had happened, how a beautiful night had turned sour so quickly. They're safe now, within the walls of Bel's mother's home. Nobody would dare touch them with Sella on the throne and with her army dutifully following behind her.

The prince smiles. "Yes, I'm sure they'll have pancakes if that's what you want." Just for safe measures, he scans the menu for the listed item. It's listed under the singular entrees and they come in stacks of three or five. "Ooh, they have about seven different types of syrup–" Bel has never personally been of a fan of the sticky sweetness, but the unexpected blackberry syrup piques his interest. The old man returns with their drinks, Bel's tea in a beautiful white china cup painted with delicate blue flowers. Nico's cups are entirely made of metal and frosted from the chill of the liquid. He could almost laugh at the stark difference, but then the man asks for their breakfast order and jolts Bel out of his mind. He asks for the eggs benedict, cooked well and with a small side of their savory bacon hash. The man nods, turning to Nico.