A/N: Funtimes with Damien yay

Enjoy~

The lands of Uoi'nota were nothing special, at least, not to the dark elves. Nothing but a spiraling forest of strangler figs dancing over rocks and each other in gnarled, twisted messes of roots and branches. It was easy enough to draw energy from their standings, an elf unable to take but a single step without running into a branch. Uoi'nota's forests were enveloped in a constant cloak of darkness, heavy leaves kept secured to their branches by a steady stream of magic that the dark elves, the Olath, gave them in return for their own healing properties.

Damien had always found his home to be one of fascination, unable to ever claim the power of every single tree within his path. Most days were spent lazily lounging within the spiraling bark, cradled within the essence of what gave him such power. It was perhaps considered a humdrum existence, living outside the hustle and bustle of humans and the 'pureness' of their light counterparts within the lands of various Ssussun clans. For the Olath, it was a consideration that rang with truth. Shoved out of society and pressed down into the confines of Uoi'nota by the Drows of the past, his own kind had spread to their own sects within their forests. There was plenty enough to share, but that didn't particularly mean that one had to do so, and, more often than not, the option was omitted.

The motto of their clan was clear enough: 'Whol Uss' Ehmtu Wun isto Udos Naerden'; 'For One's Own in Night We Breathe'. That was the goal; To survive. Being cast out of the Drow clans had resulted in far too much anger, too many opportunities to use their dark magics against those who were supposed to be regarded as brethren. Trying to keep an allegiance alongside one another had lasted perhaps a fortnight before the decision was made for those whom still remained to spread out across the forests and stick to themselves.

The rules had been made simple: You got one warning. Were you in someone's claimed section of woods and they caught you, you were allotted one time of being informed to move along through, after that, your fate was left up to the elf whose authority you challenged. Damien certainly enjoyed that rule, often finding himself with a stubborn little bastard running about his lot, using them as practice to hone his skills. It was almost a shame how well he'd been able to craft his talents, word spreading through the few networks the Olath had to steer clear of him, that he was becoming far too dangerous. A boost to the ego and a desecration of his entertainment all at once; His greatest conundrum.

However, even he had to admit that simply doing away with his own kind was becoming rather...tiresome. There was no sport, there was little glory but procuring the unfortunate's lands. Damien yearned for more. There was just so much outside of Uoi'nota, so many kingdoms and desolate plains. An abundance of lush forests, raging waters, arid deserts and perilous tundras. It was all just waiting outside just for him to see, to breathe in the salted air of the seas, to take in the essence of different life throughout the world, to get his hands on the Drow.

Damien's lips curled up as he lied in a dipping branch, hand swaying underneath of him as he lent a touch of his magic to it, feeling it growing stronger under his pittance. So few notions over the years had kept his interest until he'd heard of what the Drow had done to his people so far in the past. Then it was nothing but a spark of curiosity at the youthful age of ten, wandering out of the allowances that his father had lied out for him and making his way through the night, traveling within the winds and finding himself on the outskirts of the ruins of Evergreen. He'd been so disappointed at finding nothing but a world of filthy humans. He knew about them already, he didn't care of their existence, it wasn't as though they posed any kind of threat. The Drow, however, did.

He'd lucked out, finding one as he snuck through the extirpated kingdom concealed under a cloak, a scarf wrapped around his mouth to hide his fangs which he'd yet to grow into at the time. He found himself wandering towards the outermost grounds, finding a group of humans teasing and tormenting a young Drow who'd wandered too far from their own sect of land. The little elf had been scared and furious all the same, Damien catching a vengeful gleam set deep in grey eyes. He'd watched, grinning under his concealment as the elf's hand began to glow purple, holding it towards the group of bullies. Roots from surrounding trees sprang from the ground, wrapping around the lot and ripping them back. Damien had nearly bounced in excitement, hearing the terrified shrieks and shivering to himself. It was a masterpiece.

He'd watched the Drow turn on her heel and walk away, breaking into a sudden run as her father came in search for her from beyond the forest, eyes gleaming with worry and relief as she ran into his arms. Damien could remember the happiness exuded from both parties as the man ran off to protect his daughter from possible consequences of attacking humans, staring after them for a good while and marveling at the uprooted mess now jutting from the ground. The humans had been dropped as her connection was taken farther away, scurrying back into the city with their pathetic tails between their legs, shouting that the 'evil' elves had assaulted them.

Damien chuckled at the fond memory, remembering just how much he'd wanted to jump from the shadows, remind them that there were actual evil elves, and they'd be fools to make a mistake between the two. Instead he'd vied to travel back home, ignoring the angry rants of his father and instead thinking of those roots, how easily they had been severed from the ground under the Drow's hand. He couldn't help but wonder just how many roots he himself could tear, and just what it would take to completely upend the legacy of the Drow, placing his own kind back into the limelight where they belonged.

"Eef I did not know you any better, I would z'hink you were daydreaming, Damien." A voice ladened with annoyance dripped up and settled on him like a musty cloud.

He looked down, finding himself staring at a mussed-up brunette with an impatient cock in his brow. He broke into a grin, "Well, well, Christophe. Long time no see."

The elf's lip twitched into a crooked smirk, arms crossed lazily. He shrugged dismissively. "What can I say? Z'here was much to do wiz my last mission. Many 'eads to find, you know 'ow eet eez."

"Hm," he mused, hitching an amused brow, "Indeed I do. And how were your fares?"

"Psch," he rolled his eyes, leaning against one of Damien's trees and kicking the heel of his boot into the ground, crushing down a small divot of dirt. "Z'here eez no reason I should 'ave gone z'here. Noz'hing but barren lands and but a 'andful of 'umans to take down. Got noz'hing but a few fucking coins," he spit off to the side and sighed.

"Well, I do hope you were well compensated," he chuckled at the frustration in the mercenary's tone.

Christophe shrugged, "Decently enough. Now, you 'ad somez'hing to keep me occupied?" he cocked his brow amusedly. "I do 'ope you remember z'hat my time eez valuable."

He broke into a wicked grin, swinging around and off his branch, gracefully swooping down in front of him like a stream of smoke from a doused candle. He'd always liked the elf before him, so very willing to do whatever got him paid in the end. He didn't play sides, and he didn't ask too many questions. He just did his job and found another assignment. It was definitely Damien's style. Christophe stared at him, not flinching from the devious gleam sparking through those red eyes or the way that Damien's body moved as though it were part of the wind itself. "Trust me, this is more than worth your valuable time," he purred.

"Oh?" he smirked, watching him expectantly. "You seem arrogant. We all know z'hat you are, but ze arrogant ones are ze worst to work for."

"How so?"

He brushed his hair back, "You z'hink z'hat you are infallible, and believe z'hat eet passes to me."

Damien snorted, "Trust me, I know that you're not nearly as powerful as myself. However, how would you like to be?" he purred.

Christophe looked at him skeptically, "And just 'ow do you plan to do z'hat?"

He shrugged casually, "How well do you know Larnion, Christophe?"

He blinked, "Fairly well. I 'ave been z'here a few times 'ere and z'here. 'ighly dangerous. 'ighly pricey to send me," he emphasized, raising his brows.

The noirette waved him off, "Yes, yes, you'll be paid. Now, what do you know of the royal family?"

"Ze Broflovskis?" he questioned, getting a nod. He smacked his lips, "King and queen, two sons, one of blood, one a 'uman adoption. Well liked, very respected. Z'hey 'ost ze most powerful Drow kingdom..." He paused, narrowing his eyes, "Why?"

"Okay, let me be more specific," Damien chuckled, sensing the impatience once more building in his muscled friend. "How much do you know of the elder son?"

Christophe looked up in thought, lips moving on their own as he worked through his extensive knowledge of the different kingdoms. "Name eez Kyle. 'e eez...eighteen," he started slowly. "Red 'air, very intelligent. Very sickly, or at least 'e used to be," he shrugged before his face fell into a frown. "I will not assassinate royalty," he reminded him sharply. "Too much risk."

"Come now," he purred, waving off the notion. "I wouldn't waste his pretty little head in such a horrid way." Christophe blinked at him and he chuckled, voice reverberating around the figs in a dark embrace. "No, no, quite the contrary. This isn't one of your bloodied missions. This is one of pure observation...At least for now," he quirked his brow.

"Observation," he repeated, tapping his finger against his arm. "Of Kyle?" He nodded, lips parting in a smile and his fangs gleaming like pearls in the low lighting. Damien flicked his hand up, revealing his portal showing Kyle sitting beside Stan reading a book, looking bored out of his mind and smacking his lips tiredly. "So you can already observe 'im," the mercenary scoffed. "Why would you need me?"

"Because I need you to be close to him," he drawled, eyes lingering over the way the sunlight danced so musically about ember curls from beyond the portal, wondering just how deeply light could penetrate into the thick nest. "Because you need to help me down the line."

"Wiz?" he questioned tiredly.

He flickered his eyes over to him for a moment and smirked, "A plan is already set into motion, my friend. And our Little Prince is the key to finishing them."

He looked at the frail redhead, "'ow? Ransom?" His dirty hazel eyes began to shimmer like a backwoods creek at the idea. "I mean...'e could 'ave quite a price."

"Hm, not quite," he said smoothly, huffing a laugh at Christophe's pout. "No, no ransom. But we are taking him."

This was too confusing for the brunette. He'd been involved in far too many jobs to even count anymore, but few of them seemed to hold any kind of intricacy. Kill this, steal that, watch them. His job had always been clear-cut and carried out as such. But now, watching Damien's keen mind whirring from behind those ruby orbs as he hungrily observed the young prince, Christophe felt the essence of bewilderment and interest building within him. "What are we taking 'im for?" he demanded.

A cruel smile crept onto his face, "I need myself a little royal Drow. I just got lucky that it's him that I can use."

"Why not one of ze oz'her royals from anoz'her kingdom?" he asked.

He brushed his bangs out of his eyes nonchalantly, "Because I need one who can handle The Stick," he replied simply.

"Oh no," he shook his head and hands. "I am not getting involved wiz z'hat mess, Damien. Ze Stick eez noz'hing but trouble."

"Well that's why I want it," he rolled his eyes. "But, my friend, think of the possibilities!" he said, excitement bubbling in his tone. "You help me, and I help you. If I harbor The Stick, then I harbor the power," he reminded him cockily. "With power comes riches, which I have no use for. The riches of the Drow will be your payment," his eyes gleamed deviously.

Christophe paused, looking down in thought. The offer was tempting. Almost too tempting. He'd never have to work again with that kind of currency. He could buy the fucking countries if he wanted to. And he wasn't a fool, with the power of The Stick, Damien could definitely make such a feat happen. This wasn't just the wild imaginations of a child they were talking about, this was a real grab at what very well could be their futures. He bit his lip. On the other hand...Working against royalty was a hell of a tall order. It was often hard enough sneaking about for mere peasants. Fixating on a prince? It'd be beyond difficult to evade any suspicion. Especially since Christophe happened to know one other vital piece of information about Kyle. "'is ranger," he started slowly. "'e eez constantly vigilant for ze prince's safety. 'e would catch onto me in a heartbeat."

Damien grinned slyly, pressing his fingertips together and looking to see said ranger stealing longing glances at the redhead beside of him, who was innocently unaware of the affection he was being given. "Yes, he is going to be a handful...which is why you're going to infiltrate their guard and earn his trust."

Christophe's eyes widened, "'ave you forgotten z'hat I am an Olath as well?" he hissed, pointing to his own protruding fangs.

"Yes, but you hide your claws, so we can hide your fangs as well," he said simply. "We get you in, you work a little magic that I give you to make the captain believe you are prepared and have him order our little ranger to 'train' you in our dear Little Prince's protection," he smirked. "You have just under six months, maybe even less time to get yourself to a point where the ranger will feel comfortable leaving you alone with him. From there you'll be given your next instruction."

He cocked his head, "Why so specific a time?"

"He is currently courting to marry and join Kupa Keep to Larnion," he replied.

His jaw dropped in the slightest. "A 'uman? Ze prince eez marrying a 'uman?"

"Scandalous, isn't it?" he chuckled cooly. "Their wedding is going to be within this next fall. We need to get him out of there before it happens," he directed. "The sooner the better."

Christophe bit his lip, "Why, exactly?"

"Let's just say the princess isn't quite what she seems," he smirked.

The brunette decided to leave that little tidbit at that. The princess wasn't his concern, the redhead casually leaning back in his chair and gnawing on his lip was. "Eez 'e ze only one z'hat can 'andle Ze Stick?" he questioned.

"Oh, not the only one," he waved dismissively. "Let's leave it at I have my own reasons for choosing him, hm?" he smiled.

"I 'ighly doubt 'e will willingly 'elp you, z'hough," he quirked his brow cockily. "Eef ze stories I've 'eard are true, 'e is far too kind."

He let out a genuine laugh that nearly startled the mercenary, not used to hearing such a foreign sound escape his lips. "Adorable that you think he gets a choice in the matter," he snorted. "Trust me, I have my methods. Little Prince won't know what to do but sit there prettily and let me do my work."

"You will 'ave ze entire army of Larnion after you," he warned. "Perhaps even all ze Drows. Ze Broflovskis are highly regarded, word of 'is disappearance will no doubt bring about z'heir allies."

He shrugged, "Not if we can keep the culprit a secret, hm? Perhaps another Great War will rage in his honor, the Drows believing that the humans took their oh-so-kind prince. The humans are always looking for an excuse to fight after all, especially Kupa Keep's fat sovereign," he rolled his eyes. "And while they battle and kill each other off, I handle the rest, and you get to sit comfortably for the rest of your life, Christophe," he purred. He watched the boy sighing and shifting his weight, resuming bouncing his worn boot against the dirt.

Christophe let out another long sigh through chapped lips, scratching through his dirtied brown hair. "Z'his has a lot of potential to spiral out of our control," he murmured.

"And just as much to make us unstoppable," he countered. "Come now, I thought you were brave," he taunted. "Don't tell me that Little Prince there has you cowering," he pointed at the slender boy in his vision, Christophe staring at the redhead intently.

He glanced over at Damien, looking his confident position up and down. Arrogant clients always had such a smug air about them, but Damien's seemed to exude down into the forest floor, slithering through and around roots to crawl into his own body. The power that he was offering, the promise of just what could be waiting only a few months down the road from him...

It was too good to pass up.

"Very well," he finally said exhaustively. "I accept. Please note, 'owever, z'hat should z'his plan of yours fall z'hrough, eef I go down, you're going wiz me," he warned.

Damien grinned wider, eyes dancing from the light of the portal beside him. "Oh, Christophe, you know me well enough by now, hm?" The brunette watched him skeptically as he let out a cold chuckle, eyes slivering back to Kyle letting out a long yawn, "I always get what's mine."

A/N: Not often I get Tophe involved in a story, he needs some time in here obvs.

Thanks for R&Ring!