It's late afternoon--of the next day--when Den finally leaves the hot spring. Ian Reos, thankfully, is not dead--though he's almost there, and the sound of his stomach rumbling is so annoying that Den finally relents and gives him a piece of bread.

Thanks to having asked Yveira where Lord Wyon's estate is located, it takes Den only a few seconds to get there with his charge. The exchange is almost as short, for which Den is grateful, and not ten minutes later he's left Reos in Wyon's dungeon and is falling through a portal back to the cabin, Kracian coins weighing down his purse.

The smell of Katrine's cooking is the first thing he notices when he lands in the living room. The next is Eilon, sitting with his feet propped up and a mug of tea between his palms--an improvement from his previous bedridden state.

Eilon looks up at Den, and Den looks down at Eilon, Eilon says, "I don't think I've ever known you to take so long on a job."

Den says, "I need a drink."

Eilon smirks. "I thought you swore off drinking?"

"I'm un-swearing," Den mutters, flopping onto the couch beside his friend.

"What happened to you?"

Den sighs, not sure what to make of it in the aftermath. "I ran into your sister again," he says, his tone neutral. He knows the words themselves will tell Eilon everything he needs to know.

As expected, the boy blinks at him and then holds up two fingers, looking a little stunned. "First thing--you ran into my sister again? Second thing..." he pauses and Den simply waits, knowing Eilon will figure it out. He figures everything out. "You got her pregnant the first time?"

Den nods once. "Apparently."

"How?"

"That was my question." Den frowns. "She never really answered it."

Eilon pinches the bridge of his nose. "And of course, you gave her no way to contact us the first time."

"I've since remedied that," Den points out. "Trust me, I'm kicking myself too."

"I certainly hope so!"

Den shoots him a glare. "I don't need your lecturing, Eilon."

"This is not me lecturing. Trust me, you'll know when I start lecturing."

"How about you just not lecture, and I'll never have to know?"

Eilon rolls his eyes. "Just please promise me you won't get Kat pregnant. Please."

Den snorts. "I think if she was going to get pregnant, it would have happened a long time ago. Or did you miss the point when--"

"I don't need to hear it," Eilon says, holding up a hand. "I heard it way too much."

Den rolls his eyes. He doesn't see why Eilon is still so worked up about something that ended only two months after it began.

After a moment, the boy sighs. "You didn't get Yveira pregnant again did you? Mr. I Can't Keep My Hands Off The Women Who Matter To My Best Friend."

Den arches a brow. "That's a very long and ridiculous title," he points out, kicking at one of Eilon's legs.

"One you deserve, bastard," the boy says, kicking him back.

Den snorts again, but there's thoughtfulness to the sound. "I don't think I did? I honestly don't know. It shouldn't have happened the first time. Though in my defense, if I did... this time isn't my fault. Actually, the first time wasn't either."

"Oh? She forced you into her bed now, did she?" Eilon arches a brow, and Den nods seriously.

"Yes. Yes she did."

"I wasn't aware any woman had that kind of power over you, Den. Is there something you would like to tell me? You're not infatuated with my sister, are you?" There's a wry smile on his face.

"She's a demon," Den says emphatically.

"What has she done?" Eilon asks with a little laugh. Den shudders, remembering the feel of her hands on his ears--which are now safely ensconced in their guards again. He'll be figuring out how to imbue them with some sort of staying power, so they don't come off at the first opportunity.

"What hasn't she done?" He mutters, crossing his arms.

Eilon laughs. "I'm glad I actually know this woman, or else I would have needed to meet the one who actually makes you a petulant child." He pokes Den's cheek, and Den swats him away with a growl and a wry grin.

"I'm not petulant, Eilon."

"Tell yourself what you must, Den. If it makes you feel better."

Den rolls his eyes and lets his head fall onto the back of the couch. He says, "I'm going to meet him. My son." He doesn't bother to keep the quiet wonder from his voice.

"Aww," Eilon says, and pinches Den's cheek. Den glares at him.

"You're as bad as she is!"

"We are related," Eilon points out. A slight pause, and then he says, "Wait... you didn't...." his face lights up and Den groans. "Aww. You imagined she was me, didn't you? Den, I'm honored."

Den's mouth lifts into a smirk. "Of course not. Yveira is a much better lover than you, boy."

"That's only because you haven't let me love you... yet."

"Try never," Den says, snorting again. "You're not my type."

"No, obviously you'd prefer me short... and more deranged."

"Yes," Den agrees seriously. "You're also lacking that pixie vibe. And your hair." Den wrinkles his nose. "What's wrong with your hair, Eilon?"

The boy scoffs. "Not everyone can be a pale ghost, for your information. Some like to live in the shadows."

Den arches a brow. "You're contradicting yourself, boy. Ghosts can't leave the shadows."

"Yet here you are, sitting in the light."

"Here I am..." Den agrees, thoughtfully. "Though, I think I'm starting to disappear... you must not be interesting enough to hold my attention."

"Uh huh, sure, keep telling yourself that. It's exactly why the one job I couldn't join you on, you end up finding my sister."

"It wasn't on purpose," Den scoffs.

"No, sure it wasn't. Just admit it Den, you always want one of us around." He pinches Den's cheek again with a bright smile. "You've grown attached. Aww. It's so cute. I've always wanted a pet."

Den smirks, turning his face to snap at Eilon's hand. His fangs close over the boy's fingers and he bites down harder than is necessary.

"If you wanted to taste me that badly, all you had to do was ask," Eilon says, arching a brow.

Den licks the blood from Eilon's fingers.

"Kinky, but I have better places for you to lick, old man," the boy says.

"Not in the house," Katrine says, walking into the room with a tray of pies. Den chuckles and releases Eilon's fingers--which the boy promptly wipes on Den's chest. Den arches a brow but doesn't comment.

Eilon continues to pet Den's chest. Den smirks, folding his arms behind his head.

Katrine kicks their feet off the table, then sets the tray down. "How you two still go after women is beyond me. You should just marry each other."

Den wrinkles his nose. "Him? Doing housework? He'd ruin all my clothes."

"That's why we have you, obviously. You're the prettier one, so obviously you're the trophy wife," Eilon says, playing with a strand of Den's too-long hair.

Den arches a brow. "Excuse me, which one of us actually has a job?"

"Kat," Eilon says, nodding. "Most of the time we are just leeching off her and her bakery."

Den scoffs. "That may be true of you, but I for one pay my rent every month."

"Aww, how nice of you."

Katrine shakes her head and goes back to the kitchen, apparently having given up on the two of them. Den smacks Eilon's head.

"You scared her away." He reaches for a pie, sinking his teeth into it.

"She'll be back," Eilon says with a laugh. "She always comes back." He also takes a pie, and Den pokes his forehead.

"Good, because her pies taste better than you."

"You haven't tasted the best parts of me, though," Eilon says with a wink, biting into his own pie.

"I don't need to," Den says flippantly. "I've seen the expressions of women who have."

"Oh, you mean the one you have every time you think of that girl you met at the palace?" Eilon challenges.

Den scowls. Which reminds him that he didn't ask Yveira how Estara has been doing. He meant to, but it didn't exactly come up what with one thing and another.

"I have no idea what you mean," he says--a total lie. Den is fully aware that he still has a crush on Estara. He's been working to get rid of it, really.

"No idea," Eilon says, chuckling. "I'm surprised you didn't ask Yveira about her, not that I can see that playing out well. My sister can get quite possessive."

"Just so," Den agrees. "I didn't think it wise to ask under the circumstances."

"Hmm. yeah, always best to avoid asking about other women to women you got pregnant."

Den knows Eilon is being sarcastic, but it's true, so he simply nods and reaches for another pie. "Exactly."

Silence falls as they work their way through Katrine's pies--both with their feet on the table again.

"What's the boy's name?" Eilon asks, as he's licking the crumbs from his fingers.

Den smiles faintly. "Urijah Calden Mi'antiae De'nerian, apparently," he says, his tone dry.

Eilon's eyes spark with the same amusement Den feels. "Very obviously a name chosen by Yveira, except for the 'Urijah' bit. She had help with that."

Den chuckles. "They call him 'Ri', it seems."

Eilon nods, thoughtfully. "He must have some kind of fire ability."

"Oh?" Den sets the empty platter down, looking at his friend with interest. The boy grins.

"Urijah means fire. So either he has an ability, or a fiery temper. Perhaps even both."

Den chuckles. "Or neither. Names don't always match the person they belong to."

"You've met Yveira, right? You think she'd have named her child something that doesn't have meaning?"

Den shrugs. "Gods-Fae abilities don't manifest until the hundredth year, so if she named him that because he has a fire power, it's not from me."

"Perhaps she hoped he'd have a fire power then," Eilon says wryly. "You should have heard how many times she petitioned to change Yesmine's name."

Den chuckles. "I bet that didn't go over well."

"Oh no. She and Helena fought for days."

Den would've liked to have seen that. He would've liked to have met his best friend's wife and daughter, too. He leans his head on Eilon's shoulder.

"Will you come with me? To meet Ri."

Eilon arches a brow at him, halfway between amused and something Den can't quite read. "You want me to impose on your first meeting with your son?"

"He's your nephew," Den points out. Then adds, "And I'm terrified."

Eilon laughs a little, patting Den's head. "Fine, fine. I'll protect you from your terrifying son."

Den rolls his eyes. "You know that's not what I meant," he says dryly.

"It isn't?" Eilon asks innocently, pretending to be confused. Den rolls his eyes again, sitting up straight.

"In all seriousness," he says, looking at his friend of ten thousand years. The only friend he's ever had, really--aside from Flira, but that was so short and so long ago that Den doesn't think it really counts. "I'm trying not to overthink this, but..." he spreads his hands helplessly. "What if he doesn't like me? Or if he's mad at me for not being there? What do I... do?"

While it's true that Den is several hundred thousand years older than Eilon, he has no idea what to do and no one else to turn to for advice.

"Firstly," Eilon says, sitting up with a shake of his head, "I like you, which is an impossibility in and of itself, considering you were hired to kill me and all that. So there is no way that kid won't. And if he doesn't, he's a fool, and Yveira is wrong about who his father is. Secondly, Yveira would have made it very clear to him just who you are and why you can't be there. She doesn't hold grudges, especially not with people she tricked into bed. And since she was amicable with you when you saw her again, I think it's safe to say that she's told him a bunch of good things about you. I'd be afraid that the kid is an obsessed fan if I were you. Stop worrying."

Den takes a deep breath. "All right," he says.

Eilon clasps Den's shoulder comfortingly with a reassuring smile. "It'll be fine."

"And now you're being cheesy," Den tells him.

"I'm always cheesy," the boy counters with a bright smile.

Den shakes his head, but he's forced to agree. The mask Eilon constantly wears is indeed cheesy--for good reason. Den goes along with it because he knows it's what the boy needs--and also because it's amusing.

"Sure," Den says, clicking his tongue. Then he lets himself fall forward so he's laying on Eilon's lap. "We'll leave soon," he says, as the boy starts stroking his hair.

"Take as long as you need."

Den smacks his friend's stomach. "Stop being condescending. That's my job."

"Whatever you say, my little muffin."

Den smirks, eyes closed, and forms a heart above his chest with his fingers.