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The young prince couldn't help but wonder if his princess wife was already starting to inherit from him that trademark cheekiness Oliver had been infamous for around the kingdom. For definitely at this very moment, Yassia was meeting his comments with cheeky retorts of her own. Not that he was complaining. He liked this carefree and humorous side of her. He just have to keep telling himself that he needed to get used to it. More often than not, Yassia would always catch him unaware, pulling the rug from under his feet with clever quips of her own that came out of nowhere. "Oh, you'll see. I'll be quite the outstanding student you'll want to reward me with showers and showers of kisses instead," he replied with a wink.

To be with her like this, every waking moment of his life from here onwards, was too much a dream come true that there were times Oliver had to pinch himself to see if it was truly real. All his life being the rebel prince, the black sheep of the family, never had he ever dreamed to be blessed with the love of this extraordinary woman lying here with him. Her eyes showing nothing but complete trust and joy, giving him nothing less than all of herself and her love to him. Sometimes, he couldn't deny that there is a hint of fear in his heart that Yassia might be taken away from him in a blink of an eye as some sort of punishment for playing around, for not caring one bit about his responsibilities as a son of Mercia back in the days. He had repented for those transgressions, and he hoped that would be more than enough to atone for his sins.

That is why in precious moments such as this, Oliver would never ever hold back. He would never let a moment pass without letting Yassia know just how much she meant to him, how special and important she is in his life, how much he needed her, how much he loved her. In his every kiss and every touch, his every move and every breath, Oliver wanted her to always know he was all hers and hers alone.

---

"We can, if I say it so," Oliver replied with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he leaned his head down to plant a long and tender kiss on her shoulder which was veiled with nothing but a thin shimmer of sweat against her soft skin. If he were to have it his way, he'd much rather stay inside the tent with Yassia than go out there. They were still in their honeymoon phase to be exact, and Oliver still couldn't get enough of his beloved wife. He doubt he ever would. But of course, the young prince knew his duties all too well to be dilly-dallying about. He will have the rest of his life with Yassia, no reason to be selfish now.

After taking Yassia's lips in one more lingering kiss, Oliver then pushed himself up and off the bed to prepare himself to meet the new day waiting for them outside the tent. "Come, my love. Let's not deprive our dear friends any longer of the chance to tease us again about being besotted newlyweds," he said as he reached a hand out to Yassia, who looked heartstoppingly beautiful still all flushed from their early morning lovemaking. Oliver's heart skipped a beat looking at her, knowing he was the reason for that wonderful glow in her eyes and her smile. He knew he probably looked more like a smitten kitten than anything himself.

A heartfelt little laugh issued from Oliver when Yassia told him what her foreign words meant. "You are the sleepyhead. Look at you ready to fall back to sleep again," he playfully retorted back, although he already committed the sentence to memory for use next time. He really appreciated all these little bits of conversations in Ailanthan, and hoped that soon enough he would be able to sustain it longer. Slowly but surely, yes, that was the way to go. "How long did it take your mother to learn the Ailanthan tongue?" Oliver couldn't help but wonder. From Yassia's stories of her family, her mother had been well-loved by her people even if she was not a native. Oliver could only hope he could measure up to that. The last thing he wanted was for Yassia's people to love her and yet hate him. He knew he would do his best to warm himself up to the Ailanthans and vice versa.

The gentle smile on her face and the trust and love clearly reflected in her sleepy eyes told Oliver more than enough and gave him all the strength he needed to go on everyday and do what must be done. He knew that they were both drawing strength from each other, and nothing could be more beautiful and inspiring than that. And then of course, they have the teasing that always never fails to lighten up whatever somber mood they were in. Oliver was determined to not only have love but also a healthy dose of laughter in his family. He knew full well that the ability to look at life with optimism and humor can take them a long way. And besides, life is too short to spend it brooding and skulking.

He gave Yassia a smug little smirk as she tried to worm herself out of the reward that he was asking. And then of course, Oliver knew better when he felt her hands around his neck and pulled him to her for a long, lingering and truly wonderful kiss. Oliver didn't want to pull back. More than anything, he loved the feel of Yassia's lips on his. All those time since they have parted ways in the Forest of Balor, since meeting in Camelot again, Oliver had only wished to kiss her again. Never in his wildest dreams then had he expected to be given what he has now -- a lifetime of kisses with Yassia, a lifetime of love. When their lips parted for air, Oliver rested his forehead on hers as a mischievous little grin curved up the corner of his lips. "Rewarding enough?" Now it was his turn to tease. "Ahh my love, you don't tease your husband like that in the morning, and not expect him to want more, you know," he said as he pulled Yassia closer to him, his hand snaking under the sheets and around the small of her back. Then with a sly little grin, he leaned his head in and planted a slow passionate kiss down the dainty curve of her throat.

The prince watched the subtle play of emotions on her sweet face as she slept, the crease of her forehead and the movement under her eyelids as if she was dreaming. And somehow, Oliver felt that it didn't seem to be quite a good one. He resisted waking her up just as her face relaxed into a soft and calm one, and couldn't help but wonder what it was from her subsconscious that was trying to sneak up through her dreams this time. He wouldn't be surprised to know if it had anything to do with Ailantha and her treacherous uncle. These past few days, as the plans to leave for Yassia's kingdom were being put in place, the princess has been having dreams as of late about her beloved home, both good and bad. How Oliver wanted to wipe those bad ones away and just replace them with good new ones.

When her eyes fluttered open, he waited for her to get acclimated to her surroundings before he would swoop in. Oh how, he wanted to "swoop" in right there and then. The sight of Yassia waking up every morning was a glorious sight he would try as much not to miss. Sometimes Yassia would beat him to it though. Waking up ahead of him, and doing the gazing herself. Somehow, it had become a playful game to them every morning. A playful yet loving one. And Oliver would like to think he was winning it, though for sure, Yassia would debate otherwise.

"Bon dia, el meu amor," he whispered softly back, smiling fondly, practicing what little Ailanthan language he had learned these past few weeks with her. His arms automatically snaked around her waist as Yassia snuggled closer, and leaned in to plant a kiss on the tip of her nose. Then he moved gently down to take her lips into his in a sweet and loving early morning kiss. "I slept like a baby," he replied as he lay his head back on the pillow beside hers, lying on his side to watch her. Outside, he could already hear their camp slowly coming to life, getting ready for breakfast and another day of traveling. "But I don't think you did. Want to tell me about it?" They were in no hurry. Camelot was now less than a day's ride, and he knew once they get there, they'd have at least a couple of days to restock their provisions...and of course, to bid their friends goodbye.

Trust Yassia to call him out again for continuing to kneel before her even after she had said yes to his proposal. Trust her to always make him know that they were equals. Oliver admired her greatly for that. Though he had been brought up with a strong father ruling over the family as he does over the entire kingdom, his mother had always been a prominent and significant fixture beside him. Although not starkly clear and evident to many, Lord Bayard does seek the counsel of his beloved wife with matters that both concern the kingdom of Mercia as well as their little brood of four. But Oliver, the mischievous kid that he could be, couldn't help but squeeze in a little joke.

He couldn't resist it. Yassia did have the tendency to take things very seriously at times. Though she does have streaks of naughtiness about her, Oliver will have to make her do better. After all, the second prince of Mercia was not called the Rebel Prince for nothing. "Oh, but I do worship you, el meu amor. I worship the ground you walk on, the objects your fingers touch, the creatures your eyes lay upon. I am not worthy. Oh to me, you are--umm...perfecte!" he replied, adding a rather poetic lilt to the words as he spoke them, but then chuckling as he stumbled on the last word as he tried to remember "perfect" in her tongue. And still he didn't move. Oliver just knelt there for a good few seconds, looking up at her like an adoring, lovesick admirer.

Then of course, knowing he can never really resist his beloved's sweet plea or simply the look on her beautiful face, he slowly stood up. Without a word, he cupped her cheeks in the palm of his hands and brought his lips to capture hers in another deep and heartfelt kiss just as the sun continued to spread its rays over the horizon, over the land, waking all of Mercia up to this glorious morning.

When they pulled back, he then brought the hand with the ring before them, and saw how the rays of the sun struck the huge blue diamond that adorned it. He shifted her finger so the light could bounce off the stone and saw hues of green reflecting off of it. "This was my mother's engagement ring. It is an old Strathmore heirloom, centuries old. I hope you like old things," he added with his trademark grin. It may not be as grandiose as the diamond-studded engagement ring that Edmund had had fashioned for Yassia, but it spoke of generations and generations of love in the Strathmore family. He hoped Yassia appreciated that, and he had a feeling she would. "Can you see the hints of green there? Your green," he couldn't help but express. Reflecting Mercian blue and Ailanthan green, the ring itself was already a marriage of the colors of the two kingdoms. Though he earlier regretted Edmund's decision not to use this ring for his proposal, Oliver was happy it turned out that way now. Yes, things really do happen for a reason, and all of them had already been written in the stars.

Oliver then turned Yassia so she could watch the steadily rising sun before them and stood a little bit behind her. He wrapped his hands around her and pulled her close willing her to rest her head against his chest. With a relieved and happy sigh, he watched the serene yet breathtaking scene before them, the symbol of a new day, the symbol of the love they had once again found in each other. "I look forward to more mornings like this with you, Lady Strathmore," he expressed with a smile as he planted a gentle and loving kiss on her temple. "I love you."

Somewhere at the back of his head, a very small voice was telling Oliver this wasn't right. Something about the way this was happening was not supposed to happen at all. But another voice, louder the first one, was drowning that small voice. This is the right thing to do, it practically shouted over the other one's whisper. This is how it ought to happen. Don't let it go. What was Oliver to do? He had always been a slave of his own thoughts. And right now, his emotions are agreeing with them. The small voice tried its best to be heard, tried to tell Oliver to think of the promise he once made, the promise to be a good and responsible son of Mercia, the promise he made to Yassia, concerning Edmund and the kingdom--

And then he felt her hand playing with his hair, and it drove the loud voice crazy and ecstatic. The small voice didn't stand a chance. The excited shouting and the rapid beating of his heart were much too loud for Oliver to ignore now. He was already trapped in her eyes, and her hands only removed any chance for him to escape. When she whispered, it only fueled the burning fire that was already raging inside him, eager and impatient to escape.

Oliver felt her grip tighten around his neck, and it was all the push he needed to jump off the edge, throwing all caution to the wind. He closed the rest of the small distance between their faces, and his lips touched hers in a kiss that poured all of the bottled up feelings inside him. It was passionate yet sweet at the same time. Gentle yet fiery. Ever since that kiss by the river, Oliver had told himself never to succumb to such temptation ever again. But who was he kidding? Every night, he dreamed of that kiss, of the kiss before that, and of more kisses to come. And somehow, this kiss right here, this was a dream come true.

Deepening the kiss, his arms snaked around her waist as Oliver pulled Yassia closer. He wanted to feel her against him, to be near her as much as possible. The small voice was gone now. The loud voice had totally taken over, rejoicing in its triumph, pushing and encouraging Oliver on. And somehow, the loud voice wasn't annoying or irritating at all. Interestingly, it assured Oliver that, yes, this was the right thing to do in this situation, and that he need not worry because, yes, something good will come out of this.

The predicament Oliver was in would have been terribly funny had it not been horribly embarrassing and scary. It was embarrassing because he had just realized how easily he had given in to the thought of pranksters destroying their hunt all for the sake of trouble, how he had easily given in to the emotions of catching the scalawags and making them pay without even much of a thought to knowing more or why. It was scary because he had assumed Yassia to be any strong man and had practically tackled her to the ground with as much force and impact. He could have easily hurt her. She could have broken some bones or hit her head against a rock. Oliver would never forgive himself for harming her like that...all because of a foiled hunt.

Still, he just lay there, practically sprawled on top of her, his face barely inches away from hers. Frozen, he could feel all wits leaving him. He was completely clueless on how to handle this situation. Yassia, it seems, always have this uncanny habit of popping up unceremoniously in his day. Not that he didn't welcome it (he welcomed it very much!), Oliver only wished he would be better prepared for it. As always, she manages to catch him unaware. And as always, he couldn't easily recover from them.

"Quite a bad surprise, huh? Once again it's the wrong prey."

Oliver found himself starting to nod, his mind actually still blank, still reeling from the rather unexpected turn of events. But then he fully grasped what it was she was saying, and he shook his head and managed a small shy chuckle. "A surprise, yes," he found himself whispering back. It wasn't bad at all really, and he knew he had not caught the wrong prey. She was the perfect prey, a prey any man would only be so lucky to catch and earn him the envy of all the other men. With that thought, he took a deep breath to steady himself. It was a mistake though, for instantly he was assaulted by a scent that was distinctly Yassia, sweet and foreign, and yet there was the scent of the forest all about her as well. It was a scent that Oliver knew he couldn't resist. She smelled of the forest, her hair, her skin, her cloak. She smelled of the very thing that keeps Oliver alive and alert.

He took another breath, just to take in the scent again, and this time, he found his mind slowly calming down, settling. "I'm sorry, I thought..." What did he thought exactly? Would he be able to tell Yassia about his embarrassing fumble without so much as blushing red. "I didn't mean to tackle you so hard like that. I should have just called out, but I was afraid..." Afraid of what? Afraid he'd lose the pursuit. Slowly but surely, Oliver was starting to realize now why he simply couldn't give up on the chase, why he desperately wanted to catch his prankster. His prankster was none other than Yassia, and it was no surprise he was so drawn to her, even without knowing it was her. "Are you alright?" he finally asked, gently and full of sincere concern, as his hand automatically reached up to pluck out a leaf from her hair. Unknowingly, his hand moved down her cheeks and he basked in the softness of her skin again his fingertips. Then his eyes met hers, and Oliver was ensnared.

It didn't take a long while for Oliver to follow the trail of this particular prankster. Like Oliver, Arrow practically knew the forests of Mercia inside out and was navigating the rough roads like he owned it. With lightning speed, both horse and prince expertly dodged low lying branches, leapt over fallen logs, and stomped on muddy puddles as if it was a normal thing for them to do everyday. And soon enough, Oliver spied dark green cloak atop a horse billowing against the wind and running frantically away from them. He didn't have to second-guess himself as to who it might be. It was definitely one of the troublemakers who foiled their hunting plans for the day. With that thought, Oliver dug his heels into Arrow's side and spurred the horse onwards. There was no way the prankster was getting away from him now.

Arrow started gaining speed as he covered more road than the horse ahead of him did. Little by little, the horse, who knew he was definitely on a chase, was just as determined as its rider to overtake the one before them. Arrow seemed to be enjoying it herself. Indeed, it has been awhile since the young prince had taken her on a thrilling chase like this. And this was not to chase a measly rabbit or deer. This was a horse-and-rider chase. The best of its kind. When they reached the rather large fallen log that cut their path, Arrow gracefully leaped over it as if it was the easiest thing to do and continued on with the chase.

The hooded rider ahead was now only an arm's length away, and Oliver readied himself, leaning to the side. Oh, he was going to make this man pay. He had to admit that while the rider seemed to be in control of his mount, the horse was just not as superb in form as Arrow was. Although, he couldn't shake the nagging fact that the horse looked eeriely familiar. A few heartbeats later, Arrow and the other horse was finally neck and neck. Oliver guided Arrow closer to the other horse, and then without much thought, he let go of his own reins and jumped, launching himself at the man on the other horse. The strong impact of the jump brought both of them tumbling off the horse and onto the ground with a crash.

Oliver himself rolled a few ways off towards the nearby bushes, but he immediately scrambled towards the other figure on the ground grabbing on its cloak. "You coward!" he spat out as he pinned the person on the ground, digging his knees on both of his sides, trapping the other underneath him. He pulled at the man's shoulders and scrambled to grab the cloak that was now covering his face, Oliver himself getting ready to punch should he fight back. The man was trying to squirm out, and Oliver tried his best to pin him down. "What do you want? Messing with our hunting!" he spat again, a tad more angrily this time. But all fight suddenly flew out of him and the young prince was in for surprise of his life when he pulled the cloak away and saw a face, just a few inches away from his, that he didn't expect to see.

"Yassia?"



ooc: maybe just a couple more. but you can always post with Jeffrey and Caitrin still trying to find them when Oliver hadn't returned to that fork on the road yet.