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Eaton panted from the oppressive heat of the forge and the effort of running the grindstone as he examined the sword in front of him. He eyed it with pride as he triple-checked every detail, from the intricate polished hilt, to the etching at the base of the blade, and down the razor-straight fuller. Everything had to be precise. As his eyes ran along the edge of the blade, Eaton could not help but notice Master Ferris, staring at him from his seat against the far wall, waiting for him to complete the final touches. The bull's muzzle was coated with gray, giving away his age, but Eaton knew from experience that age did not touch the blacksmith's strength or stamina when it came to the forge. As a wolf, Eaton was less broad in the shoulders as Master Ferris, but over his time at the forge, his muscles developed to easily rival the bull's.

He locked eyes with the Master and nodded. The old bull got up and walked toward Eaton as he held the sword out for inspection. After taking the sword from him, Master Ferris studied the ribboned steel. It was the first time Eaton had made a sword of this sort, and the first time he was given full reign of the forging process, with Master Ferris assuming the role of the striker.

The bull hummed approvingly. "You've definitely learned much, Prince Eaton. I am surprised you chose to use ukku steel. Not a very common process."

Eaton shrugged. "I figured for my final project, I'd make it something truly unique." Eaton got the crucible process for ukku from a traveling blacksmith that came from the east. He had managed to bribe the young marmot to give him the secretive techniques. Although it was harder to produce than standard steel, it created not only a gorgeous pattern to the steel but also added durability and a long-lasting edge.

"It definitely is that. What is your reasoning for the polished steel hilt instead of gold, and no use of inlay or gems?"

"No offense, Master, but I'm not a fan of the gaudy ceremonial swords. Also, I figured keeping the hilt and etching simple would bring out the patterning in the steel."

The bull chuckled. "No offense taken. I wouldn't say I'm a huge fan of the gilt and gems either, but when you're a blacksmith, you make what your customers want. In the Palace, that means gilded hilts, gems, and dainty blades. This definitely fits you better as the 'Blacksmith Prince.'"

Eaton cringed at the title. He gained the nickname after he became mesmerized by the smiths at the palace, and practically begged Master Ferris to take him on as his apprentice, despite his father's disapproval and the bull's insistence that a smithing apprenticeship was no place for a prince. Many of the more haughty lords used the title to mock him.

"I mean it as a complement, your highness. Most royalty are averse to getting their hands dirty, in a sense, and here you've survived the hardships of an apprentice and have earned your place as a master blacksmith on your own, with your two paws."

Eaton's ears perked up, and his eyes gleamed. "You mean...?"

"Yes. This work show's a master's skill and - dare I say it - may even surpass my own. You are my apprentice no longer." The bull smiled at him.

The wolf couldn't keep his tail from wagging. He'd worked as Master Ferris' apprentice for over a decade, waiting for those very words to come out of the bull's mouth. His chest swelled with the pride and accomplishment that never came with his station as son of the King. It was the pride that came with achieving something meaningful by one's own sweat and determination.

"Thank you, Master Ferris."

"No need to call me 'Master' anymore. Just Ferris is fine." The bull angled the hilt of the sword toward Eaton, and the wolf took the sword from his former master, slipping it into the empty sheath at his side. "You know you never had to call me 'Master' to begin with, right?" He chuckled.

"It didn't feel right." Eaton replied, his ears going back in slight embarrassment. "I didn't want to be treated differently than any other apprentice. You'd earned the title, and at least while I was here at the forge, you were the master."

Ferris nodded. "Too bad you won't get the title. A prince rather outweighs a master blacksmith. I am proud of you, though, as I'm sure your brother will be when he hears of it."

Eaton noticed the bull left out mentioning his father, who would probably just be annoyed that Eaton 'wasted his time' learning. "I never earned being a prince. It feels good to actually achieve something of my own merit, and not heredity. I couldn't have succeeded without your tutelage, though."

The bull guffawed. "You flatter me too much, your highness."

Ferris looked as if he were about to say more, when a small leporine servant came through the small entryway. "Prince Eaton." He said. "The King requests your audience."

Eaton nodded. "I'll be right there." He replied to the rabbit. Turning to Ferris, he shook the bull's hand and thanked him again. "Let me know if you need any help down here, and I'll come."

"Ha, I'm sure the King would have a fit if I summoned you here directly, but if you've some free time, I won't turn away a helping paw. Go. I won't be party to keeping the King waiting." The bull shooed Eaton with a smile before sheathing the newly created sword and setting it on one of the many weapons racks in the room.

Eaton doffed his leather apron and followed the young rabbit out of the forge and started up the stairs, his elated feeling giving a bounce to his step and a wag to his tail. He couldn't wait to tell his brother, who was the only person aside from Master Ferris to encourage his blacksmithing. The good feeling followed him as he reached the landing to the main hall, and continued as he walked the length of the great room. The gray stone walls were always imposing to him when he was a pup, and even accounting for the sheer size of the room and the multitudinous tapestries adorning the walls, it always gave him a sense of austerity and importance. He nodded to a number of lords and ladies he passed in the hall, many of whom he didn't know -- that was always Aeryn's expertise, and followed the rabbit in front of him.

The rabbit turned down the hallway at the doors to the throne room, instead stopping at the small door that led to the King's sitting room, where he held his more informal meetings. Upon entering, he noticed his brother Aeryn sitting in one of the plush chairs, who looked up at Eaton.

"I hope I haven't been keeping you waiting, brother." Eaton smiled at the smaller white wolf. After all of his blacksmith training, he was quite a bit larger than his older brother, who instead wore a slight paunch most likely caused by the rich foods afforded to the royal family.

"Not at all. As you can see, he hasn't decided to show up yet." Aeryn rolled his eyes. "What's with all the smiling?"

"When has he ever shown up immediately after his summons?" Eaton sat in one of the chairs, facing his brother.

"He summoned me almost half an hour ago."

"Really?" Eaton's eyes widened. "I just got the summons a few minutes past. I left the forge and came right up."

Aeryn nodded slowly. "Ah, that's why, then. That rabbit probably ran around the entire palace looking for you."

Eaton rolled his eyes. "Well they should know to look for me in the forge when I don't have lessons or meetings."

"You'd think they'd expect it by now, but you remember what father said. 'The forge is no place for a prince'." He chuckled.

"Ugh, not you too. I get enough heat from Darris. In fact, he probably heard about my summons, and is pulling his fur out waiting for me to come up and change. I'm sure he'll have a bald spot by the time I get back to my chambers. 'Your highness, it's not proper!'" Eaton mimicked the high-pitched voice of his mouse valet.

Aeryn laughed. "Maybe if you gave in sometimes, he wouldn't be such a nervous wreck. So, did you finish something? That why you're all smiles?"

Eaton nodded. "That I did. Made a sword for myself."

"Don't you already have four?"

"Well, yeah, but this one's better. Plus, Master Ferris deemed it worthy."

Aeryn leaned forward in his chair. "Worthy? Of what?"

Eaton smiled even wider. "He said it was worthy of a master blacksmith. I'm no longer an apprentice."

Aeryn's eyes lit up. "That's wonderful! Congratulations! Of course, now you know you'll never get rid of the 'Blacksmith Prince' name."

"Yeah, I guess I'll have to get used to it." Eaton shrugged. "Honestly, it holds less weight as an insult now that I've completed my apprenticeship."

Aeryn nodded. "I'm really proud of you, Eaton. I could never do something like that. I'd probably give up after the first failed door hinge."

"Well, you're the smart one, anyway. I couldn't keep track of half of the political lessons we had. Hell, I could barely keep track of all the military strategies, and I'm supposed to be the one leading the army when you take the throne."

Aeryn chuckled. "You'll have advisors for all of that, anyway. Plus, I never really had a choice with the politics. I was studying every minute you were at the forge when we were younger, you know that."

"Yeah, but it was still a lot. I don't know how you keep it all together."

Aeryn chuckled, but was abruptly cut off by the large double doors leading from the throne room opening, revealing their father flanked by two of the King's Guard. Eaton and his brother rose to bow to the aged wolf.

"Gareth, Kennick, leave me with my sons." Their father dismissed his guards, also wolves, as he walked through the doorway. "Sit, sit." He gestured at Eaton and Aeryn as they were still bowed. Still, they waited until the King was seated in his own large chair, the one in this room reserved only for him. Since the sitting room was more informal, it wasn't a throne, but it was still a more impressive chair than the rest, carved intricately on the dark wood, while the other chairs stayed simple.

After they were seated, Eaton couldn't help but notice the grimace that flashed across his father's face when he glanced at the rough shirt and trousers he wore, soiled by the soot of working the forge. Maybe he should have stopped by his chambers, if only for a change of clothes. He wasn't sure, however, which would have been taken worse by his father -- the soiled clothes, or Eaton's tardiness if he stopped to change. He would just have to chalk it up on the list of filial disappointments. Even so, he didn't mention it or the forge.

"I wanted to meet with you in private about this," the King began, "before I make my official announcement. In a fortnight, I will be abdicating the throne and passing it to you, Aeryn."

He let the words wash over the wide-eyed pair. He had always expected his father to sit on the throne until he died. It wasn't unheard of for a King to 'retire,' but it was uncommon. His father may have been advanced in age, but he was far from frail, and wasn't ill that Eaton knew of. He knew it wasn't his place to ask, so he waited until his brother broke the silence.

"Why?" Aeryn asked once he was able to muster his voice. Even so, it cracked from the sheer shock that was painted across his face, ears back and tail stone still.

"I know it's not very common to accelerate succession without great cause, and even though I am not ill, I believe I do have a cause for it." He sighed. "For one, I grow tired of rule. I do not find it good for the humours. I know that's not exactly a great reason for this, but it did help my decision along. As you know, we have long been at odds with the Tassarians. We have reached somewhat of a stalemate with them in recent times, but the tension and fighting is still there. I believe, along with many of my advisors, that we need some fresh blood on the throne," he looked at Aeryn first as he spoke, then glanced over to look at Eaton, "and in command."

"But, father," Aeryn leaned forward in his chair, "would it not be easier to just bring Eaton and me onto the councils? There's no need to leave the throne to get new tactics."

Their father nodded. "Easier, yes, but as effective? I do not believe so. I have been on the throne many decades, and the Tassarians know the manner in which I rule. They expect my methods in both diplomacy and battle. Of course, we are not in an open war with them, so it's more on the diplomacy side of things. I believe that once they hear of the change in rulership, they will grow wary of what you will do. In this, they will not expect anything from you, and perhaps you may gain a foothold in some way. See this for what it really is -- a tactic. Despite my feelings for rule, I would hold the throne until I died if needed, but I will do anything for the safety and peace of our people. These constant skirmishes and raids are destroying our border towns, and making swaths of land nigh uninhabitable for people who care about their lives. If this continues, not only will there be a great loss of life, but we will see the borders of our kingdom shrink until it arrives at the palace walls."

Aeryn stayed silent, nodding slowly as he visibly processed the plan. It somewhat made sense to Eaton, but he was never the best mind when it came to diplomacy tactics. About all he had a mind for other than the forge was warfare, and even then, he had only been instructed in the methods of warfare, never actually experiencing battle or even command of a force.

"But... " Eaton struggled to ask the question, fearful of the answer. "If Aeryn takes the throne, then I would take the reins of Royal Marshal. I-I don't know if I'm ready for that. I haven't even taken leadership of a small band, yet."

His father nodded. "Yes, I know. Fortunately the appointment of the Marshal does not need to happen immediately after the Coronation of your brother. That leads me to the second order of business. Eaton, I have arranged on the morrow for your transport to the garrison at Rivers' Fork." Eaton's ears went back and he felt like his eyes were going to pop out of his skull. "As you know, it is our most active garrison with the raids, and the Red Band is currently running the show there. I have arranged for you to shadow Captain Jacobson while you are there. You will, of course, be the acting General in rank, but this is a learning opportunity, so Captain Jacobson will retain command of the troops. He is the best field captain of any Kerothan army, in my opinion, and will be an excellent instructor for you. As far as missing your brother's coronation, that will be unfortunate, but we are on somewhat of an accelerated timeline to get you ready to command."

Eaton swallowed. He couldn't even formulate words in his mind. Tomorrow? He didn't feel ready. He knew this was supposed to be his training, but he still felt he was about to be thrust into combat. It wasn't a feeling, though, that was exactly what was happening. He'd never fought with anything other than practice swords before. He dared not admit it, but he was scared. His father must have seen it in his expression.

"Don't worry, son. I have complete faith in you on this. You won't be doing much actual fighting unless there is a great need for it, and even so, I have seen you in the training rooms. You are much more trained than most of the soldiers that will be doing the actual fighting."

"But--" Eaton croaked.

"This is not up for discussion. Like I said, I have faith in your abilities. If it's about the forge and your... 'Training,'" his voice gave away his disdain for Eaton's blacksmithing, "You knew you would have to give it up someday. I said before, the forge is no place for a prince."

"No." Eaton shook his head. "Master Ferris deemed me a Master. My apprenticeship is done."

His father harrumphed. "Good. That foolishness is over, then. Apprenticeship, for a prince. Honestly it's ridiculous. So if it's not that, what's the problem?"

"It's, just..." Eaton couldn't tell his father -- who had shown his prowess on the battlefield more than once early in his rule -- that he was frightened of the entire prospect. "It's just so sudden. It... Took me off guard." It wasn't a lie, really. "How long will I be there?"

The old wolf nodded. "I know it's sudden. I didn't give you much time to prepare, but I did send word to Darris about the trip. He will take care of the packing. You'll be there for however long it takes to learn the art of command. Captain Jacobson will be the deciding party on that." He paused. "If I were to guess, since the fighting is intermittent, maybe a year or so. Now, I'm sure you will want to say your farewells. You can feel free to talk about going to the garrison, but please keep the abdication to yourself. I wouldn't want speculation to run rampant around the palace before I'm able to make the official announcement. I will speak to your brother some more, but you are free to start making your arrangements."

Eaton nodded and stood, bowing respectfully to his father before heading out of the small door to the main hall. Two more guards were posted at this door as well -- a bear and a raccoon. They didn't spare him a glance as he closed the door and leaned against it, trying to wrap his mind around the reality of the situation. Tomorrow, he'd be gone. In a few days -- or longer, as he wasn't exactly sure how long the ride to Rivers' Fork was -- he'd be at the border, far away from everything he'd known. For a year. Or longer. It wasn't just the prospect of fighting that overwhelmed him, but also the idea of being alone in a new place. He'd known travelers and merchants, self-possessed and sure, but he had trouble thinking of himself that way. He knew he would have to learn command someday, but he naïvely assumed it would be from the palace itself, with the war council.

Eaton sighed as he pushed himself from the door and started aimlessly walking down the great hall. Once he thought about it, he had the lesser burden. In two weeks, Aeryn would be king. Eaton wouldn't even have to lead an army, just observe. His brother would be saddled with leading the whole Kingdom. He measured his breathing, calming himself. He could do this. His father believed in him. He knew his brother did, as always. He felt a bit better as he continued down the hall.

He found himself on the stairway down to the forge without thinking. It was the one place in the palace he spent the most time, and the old bull was the first person to come to his mind when he thought about saying farewells. He ran his paws down the stone wall, feeling the familiar coolness they held. He swung open the large outer door, letting it close before walking to the smaller door to the forge itself. The double doors helped to keep the smell of soot and smoke from the forge itself out of the palace. When he entered, he looked around as if seeing the room for the first time. There was nothing fancy about the room, but it felt almost like more of a home than the rest of the palace. Master Ferris was handling something small on the workbench. Probably a door hinge. The bull looked up at Eaton as he entered.

"Back already, Highness?" Ferris smiled.

Eaton weakly smiled back as he made his way to the far wall of the forge. It wasn't a wall, per se, but a ledge where the fourth wall would be. It was open to the air for further ventilation, and looked out to one of the vast gardens on the grounds. He leaned against the ledge, turning to face the bull.

"I'm... I'm leaving tomorrow. Possibly for a long time."

"Ah, well." Ferris kept the smile on his face. "I knew I wouldn't be able to keep you here forever. Where are you heading to?"

"Rivers' Fork. The garrison there." Eaton replied.

"Hmm." The bull nodded, visibly mulling over the words. "So you're finally getting a command, then."

Eaton nodded. The old bull may have been a simple blacksmith -- if a blacksmith that catered solely to the palace could be called simple -- but he was not unknowledgeable. "It's not really command, though. It's more of... Training, really. I'll be learning command from the Captain there."

"Ah. Who's stationed there now?"

"The Red Band."

"Ah!" The bull smiled, approaching Eaton and slapping a heavy paw on his shoulder. "Well, you know they're the finest fighting force in the Kingdom. No better company to learn from, I'd figure. You'll do well, Your Highness. If you learn command half as well as you did smithing, you'll be one of the best commanders in no time."

"I wish I shared your confidence. Between you and my brother, I doubt I'll amount to half of your expectations." Eaton smiled weakly.

"Nonsense!" The bull laughed. He walked toward the workbench where he was working before and picked up a small round piece of metal. Only then did Eaton see it was a buckle. He walked back and handed the piece to him. "Here, you actually came just in time."

Eaton looked over the buckle. It was made of a simple polished steel, but the most prominent feature of the buckle was the darkened image of an anvil that took up the majority of the metal. It was a simple thing, really, with light filigree around the edge, but it was elegant in its simplicity and craftsmanship.

"I made it to go with your sword. I just need to attach it to the belt. I know you prefer simple, so I made it to match the designs of the hilt." He tapped the image of the anvil, dark against the bright polished steel. "The inlay is iron. It's actually a piece of the old iron anvil you began your training on."

Eaton couldn't help the stinging feeling in his eyes as he passed his thumb over the image. He remembered when he first started, Master Ferris had him practice on the old anvil when he thought Eaton wasn't truly serious about smithing. Before too long, Eaton had warped the anvil, rendering it useless. After that, the bull let him work on the large steel anvil, and started to take him seriously. The buckle was a reminder of the hard work he'd put into learning the craft, and the old bull that became a second father to him. At the moment, he couldn't think of anything else he'd rather have to remind him of his time in the forge. Overwhelmed, he gathered the large bull in a tight embrace.

Ferris returned the embrace, patting Eaton on the back. "You've made me proud here. I know you don't like the title, but you are the Blacksmith Prince, and you should wear that with pride. It distinguishes you."

Eaton nodded as he released the bull. "I will. Thank you, Master Ferris."

"Bah! I told you, you don't need to call me Master."

"Well," Eaton chuckled, "if being a blacksmith distinguishes me, then you should be distinguished as the Master who trained the Blacksmith Prince. No other smith has that distinction, so you should wear that with pride."

"Trust me, I do." Master Ferris took the buckle from Eaton and made his way back to the workbench. The bull grabbed a strip of leather that seemed to be already fashioned into a sword belt, and started working with it, back turned to Eaton. "So, will you need me to make you any armor?"

"No, no." Eaton sighed. "I don't think anything so heavy will be needed. We're not at an open war, so I doubt there's much of a chance of a true battle. My hauberk and chausses should be enough. Probably won't even need those, anyway. I'm supposed to be commanding, not fighting."

"Hmph, well don't blame me if you're not prepared for everything." Eaton could hear the mirth in the bull's voice, and knew he wasn't just being overly cautious.

"Anyway," Eaton smiled, even though the bull couldn't see him. "I'm sure there's a smithy there. I should be able to make something better myself, right?" Ferris stopped his working and leveled a deadpan look at Eaton, who couldn't help but laugh.

"Ungrateful pup." The old bull grumbled and shook his head. "I expect you to come back with a full set of plate, then." Eaton smiled as Ferris turned back to hammer the grommets on the belt. "I almost regret making this for you."

Eaton chuckled as the bull approached him with the finished belt. It was, again, a simple thing, which suited him fine. He much preferred quality over flair, but he couldn't help but continue his teasing of his former master. "What, no embossing?"

Ferris rolled his eyes. "Take it to the girdler if you want it fancy."

Eaton took the proffered belt, affixing it to his waist and adjusting it to fit snugly. He walked to the weapons rack and took the scabbarded sword he finished just that day. He slipped it through the loop and turned to face the bull, lifting his arms. "Well?"

"I'd say it fits you, but you honestly look ridiculous wearing that nice sword with those rags." Ferris gestured to the stained shirt Eaton had yet to change out of.

"And you're one to talk?" Eaton looked up and down at the bull's similarly stained clothing.

"I'm not wearing a dress sword." He pointed out, chuckling.

Eaton smiled again at the bull. "Levity aside, I really appreciate this, and I appreciate you taking the time to train me."

"It was my pleasure, Your Highness. I will miss you while you are gone." Ferris approached him again, and embraced him once more. "You will do well, I know it. When you come back, I'll have you make me something like that sword."

"I'll gladly make anything you want. Farewell, Ferris." Eaton felt the sting of the send-off in his eyes, only able to keep from shedding a tear through sheer force of will.

"Farewell, Your Highness." The bull bowed, placing his paw over his heart -- an uncharacteristically rare display of respect from his former master.

Eaton's mood became dour after leaving the forge. He made his way to his chambers, sword and belt in paw. He didn't want to soil the new leather by wearing it against his smithing attire. He knew Master Ferris would be the most difficult farewell next to his brother, and it hit him hard. The bull was like a father to him -- definitely more accessible than his actual father, at least -- and he knew Ferris viewed him as not only his prince and apprentice, but also as a son. The bull had never had children, and was often as protective of Eaton as a parent would be for a child. He'd never told Eaton this, of course, but he could tell. He finally reached the door to his room, knocking him out of his reverie, and opened the door to immediately be greeted with the sight of a harried mouse trying to pack clothes with both care and speed.

"Prince Eaton! I got word of our trip tomorrow. I'll get everything packed--" The mouse's eyes bulged as he saw Eaton. "Your Highness! You're filthy! Come, I'll have a bath drawn for you." He dropped the tunic he was handling, rushing to the door to the private baths without giving Eaton any chance to get a word in edgewise.

Eaton couldn't help but chuckle at the frantic mouse. He figured Darris was lucky to have a gray coat, or else he would have gone gray by now just attending Eaton. Not that he thought himself a difficult person to serve, but the mouse was a master at fussing over everything. He walked to the myriad of trunks laid out for packing and set his sword and belt on top of one. He'd probably wear it during the journey to Rivers' Fork, but he wanted to put it somewhere it wouldn't be forgotten.

He started to unlace his shirt when the short mouse burst back into the room, running up to Eaton and pushing his paws away to help him undress. Eaton rolled his eyes. That was one of the more annoying things about having a valet. Sure, the help choosing outfits was helpful, but he could undress himself for the gods' sakes.

"Tsk! Don't tell me you saw His Highness like this." Darris said as he pulled the shirt over Eaton's head.

"Well I didn't want to keep him waiting. Besides, he didn't say anything about it."

"To you, maybe, but I will never hear the end of this. It's... It's just not proper for a prince to be gallivanting around the palace looking like a beggar!" He sounded scandalized as he started to loosen Eaton's trousers. "Your bath should be ready shortly. I told the attendants not to dawdle at the cistern. I'll get these to the laundress... Or perhaps burned. You won't need these rags while you're commanding."

Eaton let the mouse's frantic words wash over him unheard as he was undressed. Every time he came back from the forge, Darris threaten to burn his smithing clothes, but he never did. Perhaps this time he would, since he was right -- he wouldn't need them on their trip. Plus, they wouldn't get laundered before they left anyway unless he told the laundress to move them to the top of the list, and he wouldn't do that for a simple shirt and trousers. Once Eaton was stark naked, Darris corralled him to the baths, where the tub was still only half filled with steaming water.

"Forgive me, Highness. It seems the attendants aren't as fast as I'd hoped. Do you mind waiting for them while I continue packing?"

Eaton nodded, smiling. "Not a problem, Darris, thank you. I have enough sense to be able to get in my own bath."

"Hmph, well don't blame me for questioning your senses while you walk around the palace like a destitute gypsy." The mouse leveled another oh-so-disapproving stare at him before turning and heading back to the room to pack.

Eaton had no delusions that the mouse would ever calm down. Darris was only a few years older than him, placed in his service as soon as Eaton was old enough to rate his own valet, but he knew the mouse would put himself in an early grave with all of his worrying, and no matter what Eaton said or did, nothing changed in the many years of his service. He had to chuckle at the mouse's thought that the bath attendants could fill the large -- overly large, to be honest -- private tub by the time he finished undressing. He took a seat in one of the wooden chairs the attendants usually sat in while he waited for them to finish filling the tub.

No sooner had he sat down than the young hare and deer arrive through the servant's entrance with large buckets filled to the brim with steaming water. They dipped their heads when they saw Eaton sitting in the chair before dumping the buckets' contents into the tub. Noticing the tub was now full enough for him to submerge himself, Eaton stood and headed toward the copper basin.

"Apologies, Highness." The hare spoke, eyes aimed at the ground. "We did not mean to keep you waiting."

Eaton waved away his apology. "No worries. I was not waiting long, and I know you went as fast as you could. I'm not in much of a rush, despite Darris' urgings." He looked over to where the deer was getting a brush and a chunk of soap to take over to the tub. "I don't need help to wash tonight. I just want to relax. You can leave that on the stand by the tub, and I'll see to it myself."

The deer acquiesced, bowing as he placed the items on the short stand next to the tub. Eaton didn't particularly enjoy being bathed by someone else, anyway. It always felt too... Intimate. Especially for a servant. He could suffer the brushing Darrin put him through -- he couldn't reach the fur on his back -- but he didn't need the help bathing himself.

"You can leave the room, please. I just want some time alone. I'll call you if I need anything."

"Yes, Your Highness." The pair said in unison, bowing before heading out the servant's door, leaving him in relative peace.

Eaton slipped into the water slowly, hissing when he felt the hot water start to soak through his fur bit by bit. He suppressed a moan when the almost painfully hot water slipped over his sheath -- that was the worst part, in his opinion -- and finally slid the rest of the way down. He let the bath warm him as he leaned back, the water level right below his chest. He couldn't help but release a weary sigh as he settled and closed his eyes. He silently wondered if this was to be his last real warm water bath for a year when he was startled by a door opening.

"I said I don't need any help." He said, annoyed by the intrusion.

"Well I don't think I'd help if you'd ask, anyway." Eaton spun to see that the door had actually been the one to his chambers, not the servant's entrance. Standing there was a thick-built fox, tail swaying as he looked at Eaton.

"Geoff," Eaton sighed, "you startled me."

The fox chuckled. "I ran into Aeryn in the halls and he told me you were leaving tomorrow. No goodbyes for me?" He asked in mock-offense.

Eaton rolled his eyes. "Well if we're going to talk, at least come around to the other side where I don't have to crane my neck to look at you." As a response, Geoff started to unlace his simple shirt and pull it over his head. "I don't think I'm up for that kind of goodbye tonight." Eaton turned away from the fox -- not that he wouldn't enjoy watching Geoff undress, but his neck was starting to hurt.

"Don't worry, I just find it awkward talking to someone in a bath without being in one myself. I know that monstrosity of a tub has plenty of room for two. Plus, I had to promise Darris I wouldn't do anything 'untoward' before he even let me in here." He chuckled.

"He probably thought that would include getting in the tub with me at all." Eaton pointed out as the fox made his way to the other end of the tub. He couldn't help but get a long look at his childhood friend's sheath -- thick like the rest of him -- as he walked past, invoking his own sheath to swell unbidden.

"Well," Geoff winced as he started to step into the water. "I'm just going off of his previous definition of 'untoward.' If he wants to change it, he should let me know." He winked.

"And what was his previous definition, pray tell?"

"Ah, that was the time he caught us with you bent over the bed." Geoff chuckled.

Eaton rolled his eyes. "Gods, I think I remember that. I swear, that mouse is going to kill himself over worry one of these days. I'm not even the promiscuous one when it comes to Aeryn and me."

The fox finally eased himself all the way in the tub, causing some water to splash over the rim of the basin. "Ah, well, Aeryn already has a son. He can enjoy all the men he wants to, now. If gossip is to be believed, that's exactly what he's doing, too." He chuckled again. "I still wish I could have seen the King's reaction when he found out both his sons preferred the company of males."

"I think I blocked it out of my memory. I remember it wasn't pretty. Nothing like your father." If he remembered right, the old fox had no reaction to catching them in the act -- they weren't very careful about not getting caught in the beginning. Since then, Geoff had been not only a great friend to Eaton, but also a great outlet for releasing tension. They weren't a couple by any means, but they did enjoy each other's 'company' quite often.

Geoff shrugged. "It was just me, though, and I'm the second son. I've got no responsibility to produce heirs. Plus, I have the sneaking suspicion he plays the field, so to speak."

Eaton laughed. "At his age, I'm surprised he can even perform."

The fox shuddered across from him. "Let's move on to something other than my father's... bits. Aeryn told me you were leaving tomorrow for a while, but he didn't say where to. Oh, and congratulations on your smithing." He smiled.

Eaton told the fox about the coming trip, and how long he'd be there. He didn't think about it before, but he'd most likely have to revert back to his paw on lonely nights, without the fox there. Perhaps some of the soldiers would be interested, but Eaton had actually never laid with anyone other than Geoff. At this point, he wouldn't even know how to initiate something like that, as it had grown comfortable and easy over the years with the fox. Maybe he'd ask Aeryn before he left, but it wasn't even close to his main worries about the trip.

"So," Geoff started after Eaton explained everything, "you scared?"

Eaton nodded. "A little bit. I've never really been out of the palace for an extended period of time."

"You've been on the royal retreats, right?"

"Well, yeah, but my father was always there, and they were never longer than a couple years. I'm looking at being away for a year or longer."

Geoff nodded. "I guess I'm just more used to being different places for periods of time. Between the palace and our lands..."

"But your father hasn't lived outside of the palace for years since he joined the war council." Eaton pointed out. "And you've been here the whole time, too."

"True. I like the palace better, and the city." The fox smiled easily.

Eaton was silent for a moment. "I'm also worried about the fighting, honestly. Sounds cowardly, but I'm still nervous about it."

Geoff's ears flicked back as he raised an eyebrow. "There a lot of fighting with the Tassarians?" Eaton nodded. "Wasn't your brother's marriage supposed to stop all of that?"

Eaton shrugged. "I think that was the main reason for them getting married, but it wasn't certain. She's only the niece of one of the lords there. It wasn't a concrete union, and I think my father knew it wasn't likely to actually solve anything. I think he was just grabbing for anything."

Geoff growled softly. "So he marries his son off to a foreigner, even though he knows it's not going to help things." The fox's dislike for arranged marriage aside, once he thought about it, Eaton could see where he was coming from. Of course, Aeryn would have had to marry a female anyway, but it could have at least been someone more congenial to the idea.

"I'm not going to question him. It's not my place. Nor yours." Eaton shook his head. "I'm just glad I'm not in line to be King. Those kind of decisions... I don't know if I could make them."

The fox cocked his head to the side. "Really? You know, you're going to be faced with hard decisions as Marshal, too. Except instead of deciding who marries whom, you'll be deciding who dies."

"I know, but with war it's... I don't know. It's easier to see the end goal. It's win or lose. With politics it's muddied. I like things to be simple."

"I don't know if it's as simple as you think when you're the one making decisions." He sighed. "You know, I'm really going to miss you when you're gone."

"I will, too. You're really the only friend I have here. And, well... in more ways than one."

"Hmm. Well you'll have your pick when you get to the garrison. Didn't you know most mercenaries enjoy males?" Geoff smirked. "Not the regular soldiers, necessarily, but who would choose a life of traveling with men all the time if they didn't at least enjoy them some?"

"You forget that it's not only men-at-arms in the bands. Cooks, laundresses, et cetera. There's always a number of women that tag along with the bands."

"I guess." The fox shrugged. "I'm sure there are some interested guys, though. I'm still getting the short end of the stick. If there was another guy as fun as you in the palace, I'd already know of them. I'm thinking I might have to talk to Aeryn to have any fun."

Eaton laughed. "I thought you weren't attracted to him."

"Well, you two could be twins if he was more muscular. He's not all bad, I just like my guys a bit better built, is all. And I know he'll go for it if I wanted to." Geoff smiled suggestively.

"Don't flatter yourself. He'd go for anything with a cock, and you know it." Eaton splashed at the fox, who started giggling.

"Speaking of cocks, we should clean ours before the water gets cold." Eaton rolled his eyes at the fox's boorishness, but he relented, grabbing the soap and brush from the stand and starting to lather himself.

They ended up cleaning themselves fairly quickly, as the water had started to grow tepid during their conversation. They helped each other with cleaning their backs, among other parts, racing against the cooling bath. Even with the speedy cleaning, the sun had started to go down while they were toweling off. Eaton wasn't in a hurry to get dry, since he wasn't planning on going outside his chambers anymore anyway, so the two parted with an extended hug. Geoff, of course, initiated the embrace before getting dressed, but even though they were both naked and visibly aroused, the fox dressed and left the evening chaste.

When he got back to his chambers, all of the open trunks from before were closed. Darris must have finished the packing while they were still in the bath. The young mouse insisted on brushing him immediately, so all Eaton could do was humor him. He had to admit, the grooming felt good, and helped him relax. After the mouse finally finished with him, Eaton felt he was going to fall asleep while standing. He dismissed Darris for the night, and laid down in the bed.

Even though he was tired, sleep didn't come at first. He knew that the moment he woke up, he'd be getting ready to leave for Rivers' Fork. He was still nervous about it, but he decided he should take a page from Geoff's book and worry less about what could happen. Of course, Eaton doubted that the fox didn't worry, but he at least didn't let it show or affect him in any way. Plus, he definitely didn't want to turn out like Darris, worrying about anything and everything. Leave it to that fox to ease his worries from a simple conversation and farewell. He wondered if he'd be able to find someone at the garrison who was so easy to talk with, and who could ease his nerves like Geoff. He hoped he could.