A/N: Thanks for the alerts, favs, and author alerts! They make me smile and buckle down on chapters. Shout out to the ever-amazing Reizbar-Ookami, 'cause she needs luv... :) Wrote this listening to a couple of songs. Words marked with one of these (*) is a way to tell you to look down at the Ending AN for info. Bear with me and my nonsense. As always enjoy the voyage, ladies and gents!
DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Ninth Legion (That dubious honor belongs to the now defunct Roman Empire), The Eagle, or the awesomesause that is Harry Potter. All I own... Wait, I own my Muses! Ha!
WARNING: There is yaoi (boyXboy), so if you DO NOT LIKE, then DO NOT READ! Smut in this chapter for those of you who were waiting for it. If not, just skip it, people; I write these for me AND you. Oh, and lots of cursing.
-Ryder
P.S. READ ME FIRST! Harry will be refered to as Cian (dark one in Gaelic) in later chapters. Harry is too casual and Hadrian (of which Harry could be a possible nickname) is far too Roman for the part he plays.
P.P.S. READ ME SECOND! Long chapter is long. Hope it makes sense!
CMECMECMECMECMECME
Marcus watched with distant steel eyes as Cian stripped down to his woolen breeches and slathered blue clay upon himself. He didn't see why his Mage had to defile his soft skin to fit in with the Seal hunters... Esca's hand on his shoulder had him pulling his newly "acquired" broadsword from his back and taking his whet stone from his hip bag slung haphazardly over his chest. He sharpened the sword until the blade gleamed in the dusk.
"You're a great one for sharpening, mute one." A grizzled warrior pointed out as he oiled the blade and wiped it down.
"Hmph, you're a fine one to talk." He propped out his knee before him, wincing as the scar stretched beyond it's normal capability.
"What caused it?"
"Chariot spike."
"Which side?"
"Does it matter? I ended up an outcast either way, old warrior." He huffed, putting away his cleaning materials.
"Not really. Your healer any good?"
"Yes." He smiled softly, rubbing his knee, stretching the skin as he moved it back and forth.
"She must be beautiful." Marcus scowled at the thought of sleeping with anyone but Cian. "I jest."
"You'd do well to keep your thoughts away from my healer." He sheathed the claymore, standing with the scowl still on his face.
"Possessive; you've been apart too long."
"Not enough time together." Marcus threw back as a parting shot.
Fleeing a mere three hours later, he thanked Cian for healing his knee faster than normal.
"What did you do?" He asked harshly in Latin, relieved to be speaking his mothertongue once more.
"Oh, stunned them all with magic and stole the Eagle standard. Nothing big."
"Nothing big? NOTHINGBIG! You've set them after us!" Esca snarled, clearly still in the Briton tongue.
"Why am I still able to understand you?" Marcus asked, pulling Necromance close to Cornix, neck to neck.
"Spells. Those cast with my staff have more power than those without it."
"Ah. I didn't question it earlier due to being in their-Duck!" A blue-ended blur shot directly where Cian's head had been a scant moment earlier. "We have to move faster!"
"My horse is tiring." Esca said after they picked up the pace. "We've got two choices; leave the horses, plural, or just leave mine and I'll join Cian on Cornix." Cian looked to be mulling it over and maneuvered Cornix next to the white geldling.
"We're leaving Alba. He's more easily recognized. It's how they've been tracking us. Cornix is faster than your horses, but ol' Necromance can keep up due to her Arabian blood stock. Get on." Esca crouched on Alba's saddle and jumped, landing on Cornix with some difficulty. "Alba, divert." Cian's eyes glowed as he commanded the geldling to split off from their group, which reared and took off as though scalded by fire, normally brown eyes burning an eltritch gold that streamed out behind it. "They're catching up."
-PoV-
Esca was normally quite happy to travel; especially if it meant more time with his new-found lovers. Now? Now all he wanted to do was sleep and he couldn't even do that. Cian took guard as they ate their meal in dead silence, huddling about the tiny fire for warmth. Marcus was next and Cian curled up underneath the furs with him, cold to the touch. He rubbed his Mage's limbs, allowing them to warm up and gain color again.
"Mmphgrph." Cian muttered as he buried his face into Esca's shoulder, warming his nose as he cuddled close. "Cold."
"Aye, it is. Poor Marcus looks like an icicle."
"Stupid Seal... Having their enchanment breakers, chasing us 'cross the countryside so I can't even get a decent bearing..." Esca sighed, holding the lithe body close, and murmuring sweet nothings into the thick black hair as he rubbed up and down Cian's back. Their Mage was asleep within seconds, the deep breaths the only give-away he could think of as Cian slept on.
The next morning saw them back into Guern's territory and sliding from one hiding space to another. The yelps of the Seal hunt dogs had diminished and stopped the nearer the boarder they got. Hard traveling left them gritty, sore, and tired beyond belief but they were so close to crossing the Wall...
The Seal caught up with them as they rested; eliciting a string of curses both Latin and Gaelic to come from Cian's mouth, half of them colorful and physically impossible.
"You thrice-bedamned, tree-fucking, cazzo-sucking bastards need to take a hike and fuck yourself into submission!" The green whip was back as well as the staff whirling in an unfamiliar pattern, speeding up until it was a black and green blur that whined at high pitch. They fought dirty; Cian most of all, dancing with deadly grace through the macabre battle as if it were a daily occurrence, moving in a way that made for a very strange battle style. The deserters of the Ninth showed up halfway through the battle, throwing themselves with Roman abandon onto the Seal warriors. Cian was locked in battle with the Seal Prince, teeth bared in a heavy snarl as the oaken club met the black bog staff, both of them connecting with a resounding crack. Neither man gave quarter as Cian began to glow and radiate power.
"Witchcraft!"
"Aye, an' what's there ta say I can't? There's no rules for battle, now is there?" With that barbed quip, Cian pulled back and met the Seal Prince again, only the club cracked in half and burst into flames. Their Mage ground his staff into the ground and pulled out a short sword to combat the large skinning knife that was suddenly headed for him. Esca lost Cian as a Seal tribesman attacked him head-on, causing him to jump back and shoot an arrow point-blank into the warrior's face. The battle raged on, blood spattering his tunic as he waltzed through the bloody masquarade with disquieting ease.
-PoV-
Cian leaned against his staff, poking at the bandaged scratch on his cheek. The battle was long over; the dead had been respectfully brought back to the Clan and buried properly.
"Leave it alone, little Mage." Esca sighed as they stared out at the setting sun.
"It's the pair of you who should be relaxing." He replied mildly, green eyes soft and loving as Marcus draped over him.
"When you are not, my healer?"
"I am perfectly fine, you idiota. It is you who needs rest." Marcus chuckled, lifting him up into his arms and walking back to their tent, settling him down and spooning his back. Esca curled up against his front and he was lulled to sleep.
-Circa 141 A.D. Londinium-
His boots made no sound as they strode along the marble right up to where the triumvirate's son sat, making plans for provision caravans. Marcus had the Eagle standard, held high for all to see by an intricately carved staff; Cian was rather proud of that little bit of magic. He and Esca flanked Marcus as he strode right up to the desk.
"I have the Eagle." All of the officers and government officials stopped talking.
"How? How did-three?- three men get what an entire legion lost?"
"With a bit of help from our very own Mage." He leaned on his staff, adopting a bored look as he let his eyes wander across the overly complex ceiling molds.
"Mage? You accomplished this with witchcraft?"
"Only a little, Triumvirate. The Seal people are rather vicious when something is stolen from them, you know." Cian answered, still not deigning to pay the man any attention. "Must we stay, luv?" The governor's eyes widened at his drawled accent, making the warding sign over his heart.
"No. We've delivered the standard."
"Could we perhaps-"
"Get someone else to do it." Esca snarked, wrapping an arm around Marcus's shoulder, while Marcus was content wrapping an arm around his waist. They burst into laughter as they collected the horses and started on a new adventure.
-PoV-
Marcus sighed as the bandages were pulled away from his knee for the last time.
"There. That's all that magic can heal, leannan." Cian murmured as he kissed the scar. Esca followed suit, pressing a light kiss to it as he sat in their tent, the flap open to let in the sunshine.
EndingA/N: Whew. Another chapter is done! I am the master of late, lame chapters and understatement! Feed my ego. I keep reading Transformer fics... Damn Darkeyes17 for being so good of a writer. Maybe a new Transformer fic? Eh, why can't IMAKEUPMYMIND?