(Hey guys! Here’s chapter 17 haha! I really hope you guys enjoy it! I’m sorry for these huge ass gaps between chapters, life is still kicking my ass. But I hope the kinda long and kinda plot filled chapter makes up for it? A HUGE thank you to @voice-addicted for her help editing and her ideas! She came up with a really big chunk of this chapter, and I couldn’t do this without her. <3 Enjoy guys!
-SxW)
Description: Lucien has a little sister but no one knows of her except her loving mother, cruel father and other older brothers and members of the hellish Autumn Court. Eleanor “Ella” Vanserra has grown up in the Autumn Court under the cruel hand of her father and High Lord Beron. Once a bright and happy young girl she’s become a shell of who she once was. When Lucien discovers this new family will he and the inner circle be able to rescue her from the cruel fate the Mother gave her.
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Okay, I’ll be honest this isn’t the best chapter. It’s pretty short compared to the others and a bit of a filler chapter. Nevertheless I hope you still like it!
Tagging: @highladyfxyre @high-lady-of-perranth @williamjem@photofeesh @escapingtheconstrictingboxes @thexscarletxwitchx @little-witchling-of-velaris@nerdperson524 @crazybookladythings @illyrianinterrasen@dreamingofradescapes @night-and-stars-eternal@theoptomisticwolfgirl @dayanna-hatter
Trigger Warning: Mental and physical abuse, one small mention of rape and potentially destructive thoughts.
Word Count: 2007
Sharing the RIGHT version. Layers, duh, Charlie.
Cassian & Nesta for @blackbeak!
(Hey guys! Here’s chapter 16 haha! FINALLY SOME DAMN PLOT [lowkey might have gotten tired of fluff] But I do have some ideas of where to take this story and that involves the meeting of a few certain High Lords and Ladies~ But It was definitely overdue for some proper plot and I may or may not be typing this during class. This chapter is extra long and frankly pretty funny, and we see a new side of Amara (it made me so happy writing it). I’m going to try and add more details as I go, as I’ve been focusing quite a bit on dialogue, but that’s more for the next chapter. Anyways, a huge thank you to @voice-addicted for all of her help editing as always! <3
I hope you guys enjoy~!
-SxW)
(So this is the first chapter of my post A Court of War and Ruin fanfic! I wanted to give an enormous thank you to @voice-addicted for all of their help with the chapter and the story itself! I probably would have never gotten the courage to write it without all of their encouragement and amazing ideas! <3
I hope you enjoy~!
-SxW)
It was a mistake.
She never meant for it to happen.
But the Cauldron was cruel, taunting her in its decision.
Even the Mother turned her back, refusing to grant her any mercy.
But she guessed it was her punishment.
Punishment for being a dreamer in the Court of Nightmares.
~
She was chosen for the trip to Velaris only because of who shared her bed.
She was a servant in the Court of Nightmares, and her lover was the nephew of the Steward, Keir. He was kind, despite his kin, and treated her well.
She didn’t mind being his lover, it kept her safe from some of the other tortures the female maids went through.
It was under his word, that Keir decided to bring the quiet servant girl.
“I know how much you wanted to go to Velaris, and explore the Rainbow.” His whisper was soft in her ear, as he drew her closer in his private chambers.
He held her waist and drew her closer to him, as his hands deftly worked on removing her uniform, a silent demand for repayment. Her uniform crumbled to the floor, her pale skin almost flawless in the pale light of the glow worms that lit up the ceiling. She stared up at him with bright blue eyes, that shimmered in the dim florescence.
His hungry gaze on her chest and hips made her quiver, and the tug to her hair was her signal to begin.
She was only too happy to comply.
~
Velaris, the City of Starlight, held no warmth for her.
When she arrived, trailing behind her lover in a thin black cloak, she could feel the coldness that radiated from the city.
She glanced up at the entrance, and slowly trailed behind the Court, taking in the city around her.
It was so beautiful.
She felt like it was glittering cold light all around her.
There was not a citizen on the streets however. And she was completely confused by it. Where was everyone? Wasn’t Velaris always described as a city filled to the brim with people, and merchants?
As they proceeded forward, she could see from the corner of her eyes, wings flaring and a red light blazing.
Cassian, Commander of the Illyrian armies.
She quickened her pace.
As they moved forward, she soon saw the reason of her coming to Velaris.
The Rainbow.
She started to move towards it, but angry muttering from Keir made her halt in her steps.
“That half-breed High Lord made sure that none of us could enter Velaris!” His angry muttering escalated into yelling.
“I’d be careful of how you speak of your High Lord, Keir.”
and with a powerful pulse of power that caused her to stagger back, her High Lord landed in front of the Court with his wings flared out. Rolls of Night blazed from him as he stared at Keir with an icy calm.
Keir stumbled a bit over his words, but the insult to his pride caused him to be unable to hold his tongue.
“H-High Lord! My court cannot find any lodgings or even an open shop in this city, and you expect us to stay quiet?!”
“You asked for entrance into Velaris itself. You did not ask for the shops, or the quarters. You got what you asked for Keir. Now do not make me sully my streets with your blood. It would be a mess for my citizens to clean”
Keir’s angry spluttering caused her to bite back a laugh. But now that she saw, there was a clean passage into the Rainbow. If what her High Lord said was right, then she wouldn’t be able to explore the shops but…just seeing it would be honor enough, wouldn’t it?
With a deep breath, and the cover of an escalating fight, she slipped away and into the Artist’s Quarter.
Modern Friend AU // Nessian
The One With The Girlfriend
The following weeks Nesta and Cassian hung out a lot. In the beginning Cassian believed it had been going somewhere but Nesta began to use his new least favorite word. Friend.
“You’re such a great friend,” she would say when he would surprise her with coffee in the morning.
“Why are you the best at being a friend?” she said after he help her pick out a new car and not being ripped off by car dealership people for being a female in her mid-twenties.
She would even just say it while they were watching a movie or driving to Feyre and Rhys place. Just a simple, “I am glad we’re friends.”
Cassian wasn’t completely sure Nesta was even doing it on purpose to continually kee him in the friend zone. She was just doing it because she was genuinely happy they were friends.
So it didn’t come to a surprise that at dinner when they were sitting in the living room waiting for Rhys and Feyre to pack them a doggy bag to take him she said it again. “You’re my best friend,” she annouces.
Granted, she did have almost a full bottle of wine and then proceeded to do shots with Mor so she was beyond tipsy. “Okay, Nes,” he replies, rolling his eyes. He wasn’t sure his pride would take another reminder that he was in the friend zone with the girl he’s liked the longest.
"I am being serious. 100% truthful,“ she exclaims, leaning towards him so he looks at her. "With my sister getting married and my other sister being married and having a baby I was feeling left behind. So I am glad I met you."
Cassian stares at her, he didn’t realize she had felt that way. "I am glad I met you too,” he finally says.
"I thought I was going to be forever alone,“ she mumbles her words slurring together as she leans back onto the sofa.
"What about when I find someone?” he asks jokingly. His eyes flicker to the kitchen door before returning to her face.
She turns to him. Her loopy expression gone and replaced with a stoic mask. “Aren’t I your someone?” she asks seriously, raising an eye quizzically.
The door opens and Nesta is distracted by the arrival of her doggy bag to even remember what she said but Cassian remembers.
"I am going on a business trip to a Europe,“ Cassian says, as he rolls the dough. He had made Nesta his homemade pizza a couple weeks ago and now she requests it every Friday.
"Really? What for?” Nesta yells from her seat in his living room. She was sprawled out on his sofa, her belongs surrounding her as she flipped through a magazine.
"Just a conference, ill only be gone a week but I won’t be able to make pizza next Friday,“ he replies.
"What am I supposed to do? Your pizza is the only meal I get that’s home cooked and not microwaved. How can you leave at such a time,” she exclaims dramatically.
"I am giving you a week notice. This will allow you to try a recipe for yourself. Maybe you’ll learn you don’t need me,“ he retorts jokingly. He finishes up the pizza and sticks it in the oven.
He barely hears her when she says, "I’ll always need you." He walks into the living room, rolling his eyes at the state of her, but smiles none the less because she just admitted she needed him. "You’re my best friend, Cas. Who else would I bother everyday?”
There’s that dreaded word again. Friend. Not even friend. Best friend. Which is worse then just being someone’s friend. His smile slipped momentarily. “I don’t think I remember signing up to be annoyed everyday so maybe going away will be good,” he says.
"Too late now,“ she shrugs.
Nesta paces her room, “I am going to do it tonight when he gets back. I’ve waited way too long,” she says into her phone.
“It’s about time, Nes,” Feyre retorts, “We’ve been all waiting for this to happen. Even Cassian has been waiting for you to get your act together.”
“I know-,” she pauses, when she hears some commotion in the hallway. “I think he just got back.”
“Go get your man,” her sister cheers, before hanging up and allowing Nesta to be consumed by her doubts.
“You got this,” she mutters to herself as she grabs the plate of cookies she made for him and exits her apartment. “Just knock on the door, Nes, it’s not the hard,” she whispers taking in a deep breath. She lifts her hand to knock but the door swings open.
“Nes, hey, what are you doing here?” he asks, stepping into the hallway and closing the door behind him.
She lifts the plate of cookies. “I thought I would check to see if you were back so I could give you these,” she says, “I also thought we could hang out and I could tell you everything you missed at mandatory Sunday night dinner.”
“Oh yeah, that would be great,” he says, looking back at the door before looking back at her. “But maybe tomorrow? I am a little jet lagged.”
“Oh,” Nesta replies disappointed, “Yeah, okay, tomorrow-”
She pauses when the door open and a pretty brunette pops her head. “Are you coming back to bed?” she asks.
Cassian looks between Nesta and the girl and mutters a quick, “I’ll be in a second, sweetheart.” The girl nods, glances over Nesta, before disappearing into the apartment again. “I was going to introduce everyone to her Sunday but that’s my…girlfriend.”
Summary: Senior Rowan Whitethorn is new to town. It doesn’t take him long to get use to a new school, make new friends, even join the local hockey team. But it also doesn’t take him long to meet sophomore and figure skater Aelin Galathynius. And it doesn’t take him long to realize one thing; he can’t stand her.
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——————–
These past couple weeks were the most confusing and heart-wrenching ones of Elide’s short life.
After skipping school the first couple days after she and Manon called it quits, Elide realized she couldn’t hide forever. From both school, and her Uncle. Because she couldn’t exactly stay home when she skipped, so she would spend her days hiding out around town. But there were only so many places she could hide in public.
When she finally did go back to school, she avoided Manon. Not because she was scared to actually run into her. But because she didn’t think she’d actually be able to handle it. Seeing Manon meant facing all the questions she still had yet to figure out. Questions she didn’t even know how to start answering.
Her whole life she thought she had to choose. Boys or girls. She never really took to boys when she was younger, mainly because a lot of the boys her age bullied her. Her first crush had been a girl. She was sweet and nice, and after her parents died, she had a person. A someone she cared about. And a never-ending fear of what that meant, when she realized that she liked girls, and that her uncle would never be okay with it. Over the years, she thought some boys cute, but she liked girls. She was sure of it. She had to choose, right?
That’s what Elide always believed. Until she finally kissed a boy. Until she kissed Lorcan. Until she realized she liked it.
CAN’T WAIT TO BINGE READ THIS AMAZING WORK!!! (MY OPINION IS TOTALLY NOT BIASED AT ALL)
Thank you everyone for waiting! Big revelations this chapter!!!
Tagging: @a-courtof-fangirls-and-fanfics @autumn03@rhysandpurred @crazybookladythings @readinggiraffe @devilsadvocate15 @marimarac @carolineherr15 @musiccbeach @illyrian-wingspans (let me know if you want to be tagged in future parts!)
Rowaelin Daughter x Feysand Son
Rhys and Azriel winnow the two Archeron sisters and Ember into a room the princess had never seen before. Glancing quickly out the window, it is clear that they are in the House of Wind. Ember has been in a bad mood ever since she received the letter, but as she takes a cursory glance around the large gallery, she can feel her anger being overcome with awe and curiosity. The High Lord and his spymaster quickly depart, leaving the three ladies to wander and explore.
“So what exactly had you wanted to see in here?” Nesta’s bored tone interrupts Ember from her wondrous inspection of the piece closest to her. She turns to find the eldest sister staring at her with a mockingly raised eyebrow. Ember straightens at the challenge.
“Many of Cadewyn’s pieces hang in his room and I desired to view more of his work. They truly are extraordinary, don’t you think?” She replies, forcing Nesta to match her level of tolerance if she doesn’t want to look more like an ass.
Nesta huffs. “Yes, of course they are.” She crosses her arms, glancing between her sister and the princess as if debating something. “Well, I have some emissary business to attend to. Elain should be able to show you around. Don’t wreck anything.”
I’m loving Elain in this :)
Modern Friend Au // Nessian
The One With The Heart to Heart
A/N: I don’t even know how to begin to thank you guys! All your comments and love mean so much to me and makes me want to write more! Also to those asking about a kiss…I want it to be perfect and Nesta throwing him out of her house after it would not be perfect.
The Day After the Late Night Baking “Date”:
Cassian will never admit it to anyone but he was standing at his door looking out his peephole for thirty minutes waiting for Nesta to emerge from her apartment. He’s about to give up when he hears the click of a doorknob and her door swing open. He waits a second before he opens his own door. “Oh hey,” he says causally, locking his door behind him while she did the same.
She makes a noise in acknowledgement before walking down the hallway, balancing a briefcase and two boxes in her grip. “Do you need help?” he asks, catching up with her and matching her pace.
“I am good,” she replies, still not bothering to look at him. He scratches the back of his neck racking his brain for conversation pieces.
“I am thinking friday I could make my homemade pizza and you could bake whatever you want to bake,” he says, as they reach the elevator. He presses the down button when he sees her struggling with it.
“Friday? I am busy Friday,” she mutters.
“It doesn’t have to be Friday,” he offers.
“I am going to be busy for awhile,” she says as the elevator door opens and she steps into and turns towards him. He can see the distance in her eyes as she stares right through him.
“Oh, well, I just realized I forgot my bag in my room so I’ll take the next one,” he replies with a slightly awkward wave as the doors close between them.
A Couple Months After The “Date”:
“I only signed up to be the best man so that I would be able to plan the bachelor party,” Cassian says, as he sits back in the cushioned chair. “I did not sign up to spend a day in a boutique wedding dress shopping.”
Feyre laughs from where she is in the dressing room. “Elain couldn’t come up from North Carolina because of the baby and Nesta had to work again,” she says.
“What about Mor?” he asks curiously.
“She went to that conference she was hyping up this weekend and Azerial just happened to be out of town on “business” too,” she replies, opening the door and coming out in a puffy white dress covered in feathers.
Cassian cringes when he sees the dress. “Unless the swan look is in fashion I give it a no,” he exclaims. She nods her head in agreement and disappears back into the dressing room. “So your sister had work on a Saturday?”
“What? Oh, Nesta, yeah their was a crisis with one of the books she was advertising or something so she had to go in last minute,” she says, coming back out of the dressing room in a short white dress.
“You look like I would find you on the corner of a street standing outside a strip club,” he says honestly. She laughs and closes the door behind her. “A crisis?”
“Yeah, that’s all she said. Why? You live across from her you can just walk over there and ask her yourself. Aren’t you two dating?” Feyre asks.
Cassian snorts, if ignoring each other was considered dating then they were practically married. “Not even close, I haven’t talked to her in…awhile,” he says, trying to think back to when he actually had a conversation with her.
“Thats a shame, I totally saw you two together,” she retorts, her voice distant as she struggles to put on the next dress.
So did I, he answers in his head as the door opens and she walks out wearing a sliming ankle length dress that had lace detailing on the bodice. “Wow, Fey,” he says, watching as she turns towards the mirror. “If you weren’t already marrying my best friend I would propose right now.”
“Sorry, I am late. I rushed here as fast as- wow. You look wow,” Nesta says, standing behind Cassian. Her eyes hadn’t left Feyre. “Is that the one your getting?”
“Yeah, I think so,” Feyre says, turning and smiling towards them. “All of a sudden it feels so real.” she laughs, wiping away the tears that were forming. “I should go take this off so I can buy it.”
“Did you fix the crisis?” Cassian asks, she turns towards him startled obviously not realizing he was sitting there. When she doesn’t answer right away he adds, “The one at your work?”
“Right, yes. It’s fixed, thank you,” she replies civil. The friendly tone she had used with Feyre just seconds ago gone from her voice.
They sat in silence while they waited for Feyre to change and then stood in silence behind Feyre while she paid. “I am going to have dinner with Rhys, I’ll see you at girls night tomorrow?”
Cassian watched as Nesta gave a curt nod. Feyre gave him a smile and thanked him for coming before disappearing to her car. He turned to say goodbye to Nesta but she was typing hurriedly on the phone.
“Everything okay?” he asks when she lets out a noise of frustration.
“Yeah, I am fine. My ride just bailed on me so I have to get an uber,” she says, continuing to type on her phone.
Cassian doesn’t wait for his mind to tell him not before he’s already offering to drive her home. He remembered Feyre mentioning how her engine had fried and she didn’t have enough time to look for a new car. She looks up surprised, which irritates him. When has he not been kind to her?
“I would appreciate that,” she responds, and he rolls his eyes at the formalities. The car ride is silent and awkward. He watches the road and she texts the whole ride. Neither of them bother with small talk. He pulls up to his designated spot in the garage and parks the car.
“Wait,” she says, as he goes to open the door. “I wanted to apologize for the way I’ve been acting.” He sits back in his seat and looks at her waiting for her to continue. “I’ve been a jerk to you and you don’t deserve that. I just didn’t want you think it was a date.”
He laughs at that, “Message received.” There’s a pause. “Why exactly did you not want it to be a date? You were the one who woke me up in the middle of the night needing “sugar”.”
She rolls her eyes and scoffs, “I did need sugar so I don’t know why you used that tone.” she pauses, and he can see the hesitation on her face. “I am sort of seeing someone.”
“Oh,” was all Cassian could muster.
“Yeah, he’s really nice. He’s known our family for awhile. He used to like Feyre but she’s getting married now so he missed his chance,” she says quickly.
“He missed his chance with one sister so he’s moving onto the next?” Cassian asks frowning.
“Well, no. I just- he’s inherit his father’s store so he has a stable career and he volunteers on the weekends at an animal shelter-,”
“Are you trying to convince me that he’s a good fit or yourself?” Cassian interrupts.
“I am not trying to convince you of anything. Feyre said your a good friend to talk to and I thought we were friends but I guess I was mistaken,” she says, stepping out of the car and slamming the door behind her. Cassian frowns as he watches her exit the parking garage.
“Nesta,” Cassian yells, following her out of the restaurant. It was a week before the wedding and they had all met up for dinner before things got crazy with the wedding. She pauses midstep and turns towards him. “Whats up with your eye?”
Nesta turns her face so he can’t see the black eye. A waiter had accidentally spilled water on Nesta while she was sitting at the table and it had washed away the make up she had used to cover it “I tripped,” she replies.
“You tripped? Then why is it covered by make up,” he asks, stepping closer to her. He’s relieved when she doesn’t take a step away from him.
“Because I didn’t want to have to explain to everyone how it happened,” she says, staring at something over his shoulder. He knew she was lying and he had his suspicions as to why.
“Nes,” he says, his voice just above a whisper. She turns to look at him, their faces inches apart. “You don’t have to lie to me. Tell me what happened. Did Tomas do this to you?”
She frowns at the mention of her boyfriends name and steps away from Cassian. “It’s not a big deal,” she replies.
He frowns and clenches his fist together. She didn’t say no. She didn’t say it wasn’t him. “Nesta, tell me where he is,” he says through his teeth.
She shakes her head, “No, it’s fine. He won’t do it again and if he does I’ll take care of it.”
“Are you kidding? He hit you and your going to give him a second chance?” Cassian asks bewildered as he stares down at Nesta intently. The once independent fierce girl was gone.
“Just stay out of it, Cassian,” she retorts, turning on her heel and leaving him behind.
Update to come.
Ah! Here is part 5! The story is going to start picking up soon, so be prepared ;)
Tagging: @a-courtof-fangirls-and-fanfics @autumn03 @rhysandpurred @crazybookladythings @readinggiraffe (let me know if you want to be tagged in future parts!)
If Ember didn’t already love Velaris, she absolutely adored it after she found out about the library. Mor had introduced it to her during their tour and Ember had barely ever left since. Sure, they had a pretty extensive collection in Terrasen, but many of their books had been burned by Uncle Dorian’s father decades ago. What was left is the smallest fraction of what had been. The library under the House of Wind, however, was seemingly endless.
Luckily, her hosts were pretty accommodating to her wish to spend as much time as possible with the newfound books, and when she had started her lessons with Feyre and Rhys a few days ago, they had agreed to work down here. Mor would come and get her at the end of the day to winnow her back to her quarters, a form of travel Ember was slowly getting used to.
Unfortunately, due to the beginning of her physical training with Cassian, diplomatic training with the High Lord and Lady, and her obsession with the library, Ember has not been able to go with Brexton to see the art gallery yet. It’s actually been pushed to the back of her mind. Either that or she’s avoiding it. For various reasons.
Her second night in Velaris, Ember slept in the actual bed, finding that the scent coating the blanket from the first night, was deeply ingrained into the bed as well. It wasn’t a far stretch to assume that the scent must belong to the owner of the room. Because of this revelation, Ember started to have mixed feelings about Cadewyn, for whenever she would walk into the room, her body would instinctively relax when she inhaled the scent. It all proved to be terribly confusing.
To add on to her bewilderment, during the first few leadership sessions, it seemed like Feyre and Rhys were tiptoeing around something. Although, it’s always difficult to judge someone’s actions after you’ve just met them, Ember has had plenty of practice with foreign diplomats and suitors that come to Terrasen to meet with her parents or ask to court her. She has learned the hard way how to judge new people and judge quickly before they do anything potentially damaging to the country or to her heart.
This inner turmoil and confusion is circling around in her head as she joins the whole host of Rhys’ Inner Circle for breakfast. Halfway through the meal, a letter is delivered for her from Terrasen. She recognizes her sister’s slightly sloppy handwriting immediately. Excusing herself from the table, Ember races to her room to read in peace. As always, Gusty’s letter is in frantic, hurried writing, to portray a sense of urgency to the message that Ember had yet to perfect as well as her little sister.
Annoyed did not even begin to cover his emotions. Today he teetered on a sharp blade between irate and guilt. This made him unpredictable and the last thing he wanted to do was train the princess. Any curiosity he had of the girl and her past vanished in the wake of last nights nightmares. They had been worse than recent memory, they had left him exceedingly raw.
He walked the girl past the courtyard, through the woods and into the forest to the temple ruins. Mala hadn’t failed him to date and the girl was a descendent of her beloved Brannon. He hoped that the temple would pull on her magic. Many only ever saw the warrior, not many saw the prince that he was, is. They forget that he would have had decades of training and schooling including history lessons. Mistward was not just any old fortress, it was an abandoned fortress that Brannon himself once called home. Abandoned, when Maeve moved inland five centuries ago.
“Do your worst.”
He look up and down her lithe human frame. His worst would kill the girl. The fake smile on her face raised his annoyance to anger, his patience was already holding on a string. Control. He needed control.
“Wipe that smarmy, lying smile off your face.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.”
Bravado, a mask that she wore well and had probably worn everyday during the past decade to survive, but in this moment he didn’t give a shit. So he wrapped his mask of icy coolness tighter. He had dealt with young spoiled royals before, she was no different.
“Here’s your first lesson, girl: cut the horseshit. I don’t feel like dealing with it, and I’m probably the only one who doesn’t give a damn about how angry and vicious and awful you are underneath.”
“I don’t think you particularly want to see how angry and vicious and awful I am underneath.”
He wanted to laugh in her face. He had spent the last two hundred years being lost in a pit of darkness spewing vicious angry rage at any person who came too close. Two hundred and three years to be exact. He should have cancelled training, but spitting at Aelin was better than the solitude.
“Go ahead and be nasty as nasty as you want, Princess, because I’ve been ten times as nasty for ten times longer than you have been alive.”
She dropped the act, good.
“Better. Now shift.”
“It’s not something I can control.”
He didn’t doubt her, control was not something she had. Something she had never been taught. Erilea would have had fae trainers, but it was reported that they were softer. The Galathynius household did not trust the fae from Wendlyn, he was amazed when he learned the Ashryver princess married the Terrassen prince.
“If I wanted excuses, I’d ask for them. Shift.”
“I hope you brought snacks, because we’re going to be here a long, long while if today’s lesson is dependent upon my shifting.”
“You’re really going to make me enjoy training you.”
“I’ve already participated in a dozen versions of the master-disciple training saga, so why don’t we cut that horseshit, too?”
Fair enough, truth, that is something they could both work with. He gave her lethal smile, “Shut your smart-ass mouth and shift.”
“No.”
Fine, if she had never been taught the control to shift, then fear or anger was the next path. She dodged the first move, but he had expected that, in two shift moves he had her pinned to the ground.
“Shift.”
“Nice try. You think you can trick me into shifting by pissing me off?”
A snarl erupted from his throat in response. Well it did seem like she had lived through at least a few master-disciple relations, enough that she readily realized his tactic.
“Here’s an idea: I’m as rich as hell. How about we pretend to do this training for a week or so, and then you tell Maeve I’m good and ready to enter her territory, and I’ll give you all the gods-damned gold you want.”
Without a second thought his canines were at her throat. Her scent was wild. Even in her human form his magic was attracted to the wildness and it was slowly slipping any control that he had. He wanted, no needed to know the level of power that she had.
Gold. He was not sure if it angered him or sadden him that this was a bargaining piece for her. Her people were starving, while she offered gold to a fae prince. Even if she took her up on her offer, it would be a punishment for him. Maeve had given him an order that was clear.
“Here’s an idea, I don’t know what the hell you’ve been doing for ten years, other than flouncing around and calling yourself an assassin. But I think you’re used to getting your way. I think you have no control over yourself. No control, and no discipline – not the kind that counts, deep down. You are a child, and a spoiled one at that. And, you are a coward.”
She flinched at the word coward, he could not help the nasty laugh.
“Don’t like that word?”
“Coward. You’re a coward who has run for ten years while innocent people were burned and butchered and enslaved. You left them when it was your duty to protect them. You left thousands to die at the hands of that murdering king, while you killed for money.”
Maeve’s words to him echoed through his iced heart. Well at least in that sense you are a matched pair. They had both failed, cowardice and pride, what a pair they were. He looked at her and knew that she had shut down.
“Aelin.”
Nothing.
“Elentiya.”
Nothing. Gods damn it, Her eyes had been dull, but now they were lifeless.
“Get up”
Something flickered.
“Get up”
It takes almost no effort to bring the girl to her feet.
“Pathetic. Spineless and pathetic.”
He wanted her gone and he would give her that chance.
“I had planned to wait until you had some handle on your power – planned to make you come at night, when the barrow-wights are really something to behold, but consider this a favor, as there are few that will dare come out in the day. Walk through the mounds – face the wights and make it to the other side of the field, Aelin, and we can go to Doranelle whenever you wish.”
She eyed my weapons.
“You can either wait to earn back your steel, or you can enter as you are now.”
“My bare hands are weapon enough.” I gave her a taunting grin and started our trek to the barrows.
“I leave you here,” and with a feral smile that had most running, “I’ll meet you on the other side of the field.”
He walked around the dead grass. The wind carried her voice, this is not real. Something was not right, maybe wights affected humans differently. His body still at the sound of her scream. Shit.
She was emerging from solid darkness. Petrified. There was someone in the shadows, not a barrow-wight, something worse, a monster that he did not recognize.
Holy gods. Shifting took power, and the amount of shifting she was doing meant she had a well that would rival Lorcan’s. Shit. He tried to carry her, but the continuous shifting between forms made it impossible. He dragged her to the safety of the forest. It took him only moments to circle back. The darkness was gone, just the wights and the treasures remained.
When he returned the shifting had ceased. A part of him wished she would have settled in her fae form. He tossed his knife as he waited for her to wake. He had almost lost control today. his body screamed at him to bite, to claim. He had not felt that urge in centuries and it unsettled him more that he cared to admit. She had lost control today and she had shifted from fear.
He sat and a rock waiting. He did not want to think, he did not want to hunt, he did not want to exist. Since the princess had come into his life, he felt a shift.
“No discipline, no control, and no courage.”
He needed her to know that she had not met the requirement of their bargain. Even though she made it to the other side, even though she came across a being that petrified her, she had not faced the wights.
“You failed, you made it to the other side of the field, but I said to face the wights – not throw a magical tantrum.”
If glares coul kill…
“I will kill you, how dare –”
“That was not a wight, Princess.”
He glanced back towards the trees until he returned his gaze. That thing should not have been there.
Then what in hell was it, you stupid bastard?
She could read his words and he could read hers. Not an unheard of connection, but rare all the same. He clenched his jaw. He did not want to think about what this meant. He already had too much to think about.
“I don’t know. We’ve had skinwalkers on the prowl for weeks, roaming down from the hills to search for human pelts, but this … this was something different. I have never encountered its like, not in these lands or any other. Thanks to having to drag you away, I don’t think I’ll learn anytime soon. It was gone when I circled back. Tell me what happened. I saw only darkness, and when you emerged, you were … different.”
She looked at her paled skin, the vomit and the soil. But that is not what he had meant when he said different. He could feel the magic surfacing with every shift, trying to protect her. She had power and she was petrified, not just of the creature and whatever it was doing to her, but to use that magic.
“No, and go to hell.”
I did not have time for this. “Other lives might depend on it.”
“I want to go back to the fortress, right now!”
She was running again, he had to find a way to get her to stop running. “You’re done when I say you’re done.”
“You can kill me or torture me or throw me off a cliff, but I am done for today. In that darkness, I saw things that no one should be able to see. It dragged me through my memories – and not the decent ones. Is that enough for you?”
In order for him to train her, she needed to trust him. When she said she was done, he needed to respect that boundary. Without a word he headed toward the fortress.
He had started his day on the edge between irate and guilt, but at some point it had shifted from a blade to a battering ram of anxiety. Until today he thought her a spoiled princess and even though a part of her still was, there was more to her story. His pride had never allowed him to think of how that eight year old girl survived the massacre of her family, let alone what she would have seen during the process. There was a creature close to the fortress that attacked by making one relive their worst memories, feeding off the pain and despair of its victims. He had a fortress full of demi-fae that the creature could feast off of. And he could silently communicate with the princess which for fae meant one of three things, really two because they were not mates. The girl either had another power or they were carranam.
Gods above if they were carranam, that meant her power would match his. A power to match his with absolutely no control. There was only one way to confirm his suspicion and right now was not the time. And if Maeve learned, he couldn’t think of that right now either.
In the numerous trips he had made over the years he had never stayed the night in Mistward, none of the bloodsworn had. He should not have been surprised that his trunks were already waiting in the room that Emrys had led him to. He had always liked the old male, a little sad that like most demi-fae he never settled, the world needed more like him. The gentle kind.
He had centuries until he faded, Mora’s line held true in both power and immortality. Considering the power he was born with, his immortality would match. What he once considered a blessing, this was now a curse. Alone, he was paying a steep price for glory, a price he deserved for leaving her side, for leaving their side.
The room was large, simply furnished and the best that Mistward had to offer. He knew what this place was, he had no grandeur delusions, knew that the others here looked at him as not one of their own. That feeling was well deserved, for the way his kind had treated the demi-fae. Many demi-fae had spent years here training before they were granted entrance to Doranelle. Gods above, he could be here for years training Aelin. He climbed into bed, wondering about the girl. Most pure-blooded fae with fire magic, had just embers. They were able to light candles, maybe start a fire. No one had seen the fire strength that Brannon had been rumored to have. He was to train the descendant of Brannon of the Wildfire. The fae blood had been diluted over generations, but here she was. He wondered if Mala would bless the girl, as she had once blessed Brannon. He fell asleep wondering why mixing the Galathynius lines and Ashryver lines would be volatile. He surged out of bed. He had never once heard her screams, the screams he dreamed of every night, were not a memory. No the screams were from the worst corners of his imagination, what he imagined her screams to have been. Blood curdling. Desperate. Hopeless. He had been away fighting not for a cause, no for glory. Stories of him were told by warriors, he was idolized by some. Glory, he left her side, allowed for her to be murdered all in the name of glory. He deserved this fate. The black well of darkness. He deserved to spend every second of his immortal life alone. He quickly dressed, it was almost dawn and he had a princess to take to the kitchens.
I’ve got a feeling these are about to become really interesting 😝
TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of non consensual sex
“From Lorcan’s expression, I take it you didn’t find Athril’s ring,” Fenrys said as he slid into the blood sworn’s typical booth at The Fire Drake, one of their favorite pubs. Lorcan snarled at him, but Fenrys only spared him a passing glance before turning to Kosmina. There was a tankard of ale in front of her, but she was nursing her flask instead. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen her without it somewhere on her person. Her hair was in the typical wily braids she used for battle, this time with two smaller braids by each ear, the rest plaited back from her face, which was wearing a mask of cruel amusement.
He considered Mina a friend in the same sense that Lorcan and Rowan were friends: through alcohol and bedding women (and men, in Mina’s case) and bloody victories. He’d never seen her without it, though; that mask of cruel indifference. Only Gavriel and Vaughan and occasionally Lorcan saw her without that mask. He knew it was a mask, though, knew her better than she’d probably be comfortable with.
“Oh yes,” she drawled. “We’re all quite put out by it.” She took a long draw from the flask. “There was nothing note worthy in Rune at all, unless you call skinwalkers note worthy.”
“Hardly,” he said as he grabbed her untouched ale.
She glanced at him. “I’m not done with that.”
He grinned, but slid it back to her. “Do you even drink regular ale, Mina?”
“I do when I’ve been in the thrilling company of Lorcan for too long,” she said, but he knew she did not mean it. If there were a person the bastard Commander could call a real friend, it was Kosmina Moreno. Ignoring Lorcan’s crude gesture in her direction, she asked, “Vaughan left, correct?”
Whitethorn had once told him that Mina and Vaughan had been as thick as thieves for as long as he could remember, though Fenrys didn’t know why Mina was so apt to befriend moody bastards who hated almost everyone. Vaughan was more morose in the sense that Lorcan was standoffish, but did it really matter? They were both still assholes. “Did you really think he’d be waiting around for you to come back, or is that REALLY all that he does?”
“Careful,” she purred.
“No, please, go on,” said Lorcan. “Antagonize her. Maybe she’ll do us all a favor and FINALLY mist your tongue and lips.”
Fenrys grinned at him. “Mina likes to look at me too much to mar my handsome face.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “I’ll still have Connall’s pretty face to gaze upon in my most dire hours.”
Lorcan’s smile turned nasty. “I wonder who Maeve would have to warm her bed if you were… permanently damaged.” A low blow. They both knew Maeve would simply use Connall.
Fenrys went lower. “Well, we certainly know it won’t be you.” It was a known fact among the blood sworn and some outside of their inner circle that Lorcan was in love with Maeve. Fenrys had no rutting clue why, but he DID know that Lorcan had once offered to bed their Queen, and she had laughed in his face. He’d learned that little tidbit from a drunk Vaughan decades ago, who had undoubtedly learned from Kosmina. And, since Mina’s alcohol tolerance was somehow higher than all of theirs and none of them had actually witnessed her drunk, she could not blame alcohol for spilling Lorcan’s secret.
She remained quiet during this exchange and as Lorcan’s eyes darkened, and Fenrys knew she would not interject until the subject had changed. She never partook in mocking him about his duties in Maeve’s bedroom, just as he never mocked her for her duties to whoever Maeve told her to bed. That was their silent understanding, their code; because they were the same. Maeve’s whores. Lorcan’s lips pulled back from his teeth, and he was obviously about to retort something scathing when Whitethorn stalked through the crowd, grabbed a chair someone had been about to sit in, and joined their table.
“Group therapy?” He asked, and Lorcan rolled his eyes.
“You’ve saved me,” said Mina. “Lorcan was about to leap over the table to strangle Fenrys. They would have spilled my ale.” As if to make a point, she finally took a gulp of it, chasing it with her flask.
Lorcan jerked his chin at his General. “When do you depart for Varese?”
“Not for two days,” Rowan said. Then to Mina, “I need you to winnow me there.” Winnowing- it was an incredible luxury, and the favorite of Mina’s powers among them all, though misting was quite nifty, too.
She did that casual one shoulder shrug again. “I am needed in Varese anyways.” Translation: Maeve was forcing her to fuck Galan one more time before the Prince went blockade running. A pause, and then, “Do try not to kill that princess.”
“Good riddance,” sneered Lorcan. “Shameful, abandoning her country to become an assassin.”
“Yes,” said Mina thoughtfully. “Almost as shameful as us not aiding Terrassen.” Lorcan’s head whipped to her, and Fenrys didn’t bother to hide his snicker. The Commander often forgot that though she did not publicly protest, Kosmina was no fan of their Queen.
“Careful,” said Lorcan, repeating her earlier word. She only smiled softly and took a slug of her flask.
Come to my bed. The words snaked through Fenrys’ brain, and he stiffened. Rowan and Lorcan were busy bantering back and forth, and even if they had noticed, they wouldn’t have cared. But Mina… their gazes met, and though the rest of her face was impassive, there was understanding in her violet eyes.
“I’m needed,” he said tightly, and she nodded. She did not ask if he wanted to be winnowed back, knew he would want to walk so he could delay Maeve as much as possible. He tossed a copper on the table for his drinks, nodded to the three remaining at the table, and wove through the crowd, a sour taste already in his mouth.
-
She is sixteen.
She’s also pretty sure Lorcan is TRYING to make her hate him with the brutal morning sessions before she’s off to learn battle plans and Wendlyn culture and what not, whatever the tutors decide she is most inept at for the day. What Lorcan does not understand is Mina can’t possibly hate him. He’s prickly, but he saved her life. Gavriel once told her that it had actually been him who had seen her fall from the sky, and if he hadn’t, then Gavriel wouldn’t have even found her and healed her. She’d be dead.
So no, she cannot hate Lorcan.
He walks next to her, scowl on his face, but she knows him well enough to know that it will dissipate into something an inkling softer as soon as they enter Maeve’s court room. Mina can understand why. Who could ever hate Maeve? Mina still wakes up screaming for her brothers or her mother or even her father. She still feels phantom pains every once in a while, in her back where two mighty wings should be. She still cannot look at the sky the same. Maybe she never will. But at least she has a place here, in this strange world.
Maeve is on her throne, pale legs crossed, the picture of elegance in her long black gown. Kosmina smiles just to see her before her eyes slide to Gavriel. He looks in pain. Has something happened?
The Queen first addresses Lorcan. “How is she fairing in training?”
“Her form is poor, Majesty,” answers Lorcan, but before she can bristle because she STILL doesn’t see how Fae fighting stances are so superior to Illyrian ones (even if she barely remembers the stances Cas taught her), he adds, “But she is improving greatly.” He’s never complimented her before.
Maeve seems to realize this as well, because her lips curl. “Come here, dear.” Mina does so eagerly, curtsying at the foot of the throne. She’s still surprised when Maeve brushes her hair from her face. She’s sweaty and grimy and there’s a little blood on her left temple, yet the Queen doesn’t seem to mind. “And how do you think it is going, my Mina?”
My Mina. Such a motherly thing to say to the girl without a mother. Mina beams. “I think it is fairing well, Your Majesty. Lorcan is a great teacher.” He rolls his eyes at her at that, but not maliciously.
“That’s good to hear,” Maeve says. “I’m sure you’ll be glad to hear that your afternoon lessons have been cancelled.”
HELL. YES. Still, she tries to school her reaction. “Thank you, my Queen. May I ask why?” She glances at Gavriel, who is averting his gaze. “Has something happened?”
“You need not worry. I’ve only a mission for you, since you’ve been so eager to repay me for my gratitude.”
Mina immediately perks up. “Anything.”
That pleases Maeve greatly. “I am having a guest from our neighboring kingdom. Prince Kristoff. He arrives tomorrow.” A pause. “Prince Kristoff has been very naughty. He took an amulet of great importance to me. I need you to get it back.”
Behind her, Lorcan stiffens, as if to protest that she is not ready, but Mina speaks before he can, anger already burning in her gut at this Prince. “Of course, Your Majesty. What do you need me to do?” Behead him? Challenge him to a duel for the amulet? Sneak into his room to assassinate him?
No such thing leaves Maeve’s mouth. “Prince Kristoff has a penchant for young Fae females. I need you to use that to get the amulet back.”
Her words sink in. “You… you want me to bed him?” Maeve nods. “But… but I’ve never…”
The Queen cocks her head. “Did you not just tell me you’d do anything, my Mina? Is this not anything?”
“No, of course I-”
“You do not want to misplace my generosity, do you?” Another lengthy pause. “You don’t want to disappoint me, do you?”
And that-that is what does it. Because she is young, and so naive, and disappointing Maeve in her mind is perhaps the worst thing she can do. “Never, Majesty,” she says fiercely. “C-consider it done.”
-
Kosmina shook off the memory, adding more spice to the stew she was making. It was some time in the early morning, and the cooks were long asleep- not that they would stop her even if they’d been in the kitchen. She’d been cooking for centuries and was more skilled than all of them. And this was for Fenrys, who would be done servicing the Queen hopefully soon.
Her mind bounced to another memory, of Kristoff, of his hands around her throat as he-
No. No. She shook it off, forcefully added more liquor to the meat she was sauteing in a pan.
She had been so young, back when she still loved Maeve. And she had thought… she had thought that it would be a one time thing. But since she had had so little control over her ability to change emotions at the time, she’d accidentally made Kristoff fall in love with her. No, he had not loved her. He did not know how to love. What she had twisted inside him had been a sick obsession. Maeve had used it to her advantage, sent Mina back again and again and again until she finally gave the order for her to take a sword and cut off his head. At the time, it had been empowering. Now, though, it was just a reminder of what she’d been forced to do.
Because the Queen had not stopped there. After Kristoff, it was another male, and another, and another, and then a female. At that point, Maeve used the same line that she had first used-“You wouldn’t want to disappoint me, would you, Mina?”- to get her to swear the blood oath. She’d promised that if there ever was a way for Mina to get back to her universe, she’d free her of the oath. Kosmina was no longer blind. She no longer thought her Queen a Saint. Maeve would never let her go.
Her fate had been sealed the moment she’d walked into the throne room with that amulet.
There was a shift behind her, and she glanced to the door, where Fenrys had appeared. His clothes were ruffled, a hatred in his eyes so deep it surpassed even hers, but it diminished as his nostrils flared at the smell of food. He grinned tiredly. “Mina stew.” ‘Mina stew’ was a favorite dish of hers among the Cadre- in fact, she was surprised Lorcan and Rowan and whoever else wasn’t off on missions weren’t already up here for their fill of it.
“I thought you could use it,” she told him. His nod was almost imperceptible as he took a seat at the table. “It will be ready in about five minutes.” She finished up quickly, sprinkling some salt into it and basil on top as a final touch before pouring two bowl’s worth and moving to the table to sit across from him.
She didn’t know what she had with Fenrys. They weren’t exactly friends- not in the way she was with Vaughan or Gavriel or Lorcan. But they had an understanding. “Where’s Connall?” she asked him.
His mouth tightened. “On a mission.” Which meant he was stuck here for now. They were never allowed to leave together.
“When does he return?”
He sneered. “When does Vaughan?” When she raised an eyebrow, he immediately snapped out of whatever state he was in and grimaced. “I apologize.”
“That’s alright,” she said, because it was. She understood more than anyone. Thus their understanding.
They didn’t speak for a while, but despite him snapping at her, it was not an uncomfortable silence. And when the feelings of agony and hatred and something else, something deeper, finally stopped crashing off of him into her in waves, she might have slumped just a little in relief.
Gods I want to rescue Mina and send her back to the inner circle.
Rowan POV during Heir of Fire
A/N: I know this is bad (the next part is already started and I love it). Really I hate Maeve, hated her from this chapter forward. I also firmly believe that Rowan has no love for his aunt. Although he blames himself for Lyria’s death, he also hates Maeve for her disapproval of the female he loves. I wrote this with one line in mind “That was the first time I lost control around you.” Although he does not bite her for another week, cool collected Rowan, shows a great deal of anger towards Celaena. But why?
- - - - - - -
Their travel to Mistward had been quiet. By the third day, the quietness of the girl slightly unsettled him. He reminded himself that the girl was not his concern. He only needed to deliver her to Maeve and then meet up with Gavriel. He was not certain where the fiery girl that had stuck her tongue out at just a hawk had gone. When she had stuck her tongue out he wanted to transform right then and there. If only to see her reaction, to see something other than the cold dullness in her eyes.
“I think I’d rather stay in the woods.”
That was the most ignorant thing she had said. Instead of correcting her ignorance, it was much easier for him to ignore her. He walked past the guards without a second thought, they had known who he was, and who was currently sitting in one of the offices within Mistward. He was sure they were all noting the human girl and the rumors would be flying about by morning.
She silently followed him to the office.
“Hello, Aelin Galathynius.”
He stood by the door. He held back a growl as the girl backed right into him. Too close.
In their proximity, he could see that the girl was barely controlling herself. He could see her hands shaking, but he was uncertain if the shaking was from fear or anger. It was almost as if the mention of her name had unleashed some monster that she needed to leash within her. Monster. That was something that he well understood.
“Aelin Galathynius is dead.” Of all the words he had expected her to say, those were not it. It was well known that the Galathynius line had died ten years ago, many believed that the little princess of wildfire was included. He was surprised in learning whom he was suppose to collect from Varese.
“I suppose with a proper bath, you’ll look a good deal like your mother.”
His attention was drawn back to his aunt and that damned owl. To this day he still had no idea if the owl was a fae or a pet. Considering that it had been with Maeve in all the years he had known her, he was leaning more towards a fae.
“Had I known who I would be meeting, I might have begged my escort for time to freshen up.”
There she is, the girl with an ember of fire that would stick her tongue out at a nameless hawk. Maeve looked at him. He had followed her orders, escort Aelin to Mistward as quickly as possible. She never said to make her presentable or to take a break a bath. And as well as he could read her, she read him.
“I’m afraid I must bear the blame for pressing the pace, though I suppose he could have bothered to at least find you a pool to bathe in along the way.”
In his defense there was a brook that she could have swam in.
“Prince Rowan is from my sister Mora’s bloodline. He is my nephew of sorts, and a member of my household. An extremely distant relation of yours; there is some ancient ancestry linking you.”
What he would give to see the look on her face, when she realized he was a prince. What a set of royals they were. He was not a prince in name, but a prince that held lands his uncle currently managed while he served Doranelle. He supposed in the three days of mutual silence he could have mentioned a little about himself, but he learned long ago that anonymity has its purpose. He could have told her of the life he once remembered. The years of training and missions that shaped the cold warrior he had become. How he was buried in 200 years worth of glacial ice. The world was easier to survive without feelings.
“You don’t say.”
“You must be wondering why I asked Prince Rowan to bring you here.”
He knew and Maeve probably knew that Aelin was biting her tongue.
“I’ve been waiting a long, long while to meet you. And as I do not leave these lands, I could not see you. Not with my eyes, at least. They broke my laws, you know. Your parents disobeyed my commands when they eloped. The bloodlines were to volatile to be mixed, but when your mother promised to let me see you after you were born. It would seem that in the eight years after your birth, she was always too busy to uphold her vow. But now you are here and a grown woman. My eyes across the sea have brought me strange, horrible stories of you. From your scars and steel, I wonder whether they are indeed true. Like the tale I heard over a year ago, that an assassin with Ashryver eyes was spotted by the horned Lord of the North in a wagon bound for –”
“Enough. I know my own history.”
Bound for where? Maeve had known the girl lived, why not bring her here sooner? He hated himself, why was he even curious, the girl was not his concern. Never would be. He sole purpose was his next mission, to continue to look for that unknown place he yearned for.
“I’m an assassin, yes.”
He could not help but snort, this girl, this 18 year old girl was not an assassin.
“”And your other talents? What has become of them?”
“Like everyone else on my continent, I haven’t been able to access them.”
“Show me.”
He waited. Wondering how deep the embers ran through her blood? He would not lie to himself, he was curious, if only because his magic pulled towards the embers within her blood.
“Your mother hid you from me for years, she and your father always had a remarkable talent for knowing when my eyes were searching for you. Such a rare gift – the ability to summon and manipulate flame. So few exist who possess more than an ember of it; fewer still who can master its wildness. And yet your mother wanted you to stifle your power - though she knew that I only wanted you to submit to it.”
That is why she wanted the girl, to see how strong the embers were. No Maeve was not merely curious, he knew what he had sworn himself to. Maeve collected power.
“Look at how that turned out for them.”
“And where were you ten years ago?”
He knew that anger, that loss.
“Why not -”
He could not help the growl that left his throat. It was not as Maeve had believed, it was not in defense of the girl cutting off his queen, no he knew where this was going. In order for Aelin to enter Doranelle she would have to train. Magic had been smothered in Erilea for the past decade. Any magical knowledge the girl had would be that of an eight year old, her control would have been limited if not stifled. Who better to train the girl, then the fae that bore the complete opposite power. He barely heard the exchange between them, he was stuck here to train the girl. He was certain of one thing, he did not like the girl. There was nothing sweet, nothing caring about the girl. The mention of his name brought his attention back to the conversation at hand.
“I wish for you to become who you were born to be. To become queen.”
At the mention of this girl being queen, something deep in him stirred … First Mala answering his prayers, then the Little Folk blessing and now Maeve.
This is so f'ing beautiful!! Can’t wait for more!
@daughterxofxnight I am so happy you enjoyed it, this one was a struggle. There is more to come, I’m enjoying digging a little deeper into Rowan.
Rowaelin Daughter x Feysand Son
Tags: @autumn03 @readinggiraffe @rhysandpurred @crazybookladythings (let me know if you want to be tagged in future parts)
Cade is dragged out of some of the most peaceful sleep he’s ever had by someone poking him on the cheek. He opens one eye groggily to find himself face to face with the subject of the dream he’d just been having. Turquoise eyes with a ring of gold around the pupil stare into his own and Cade almost falls off the bed in shock.
A young girl, just entering her teen years, with long silver hair and incredibly familiar eyes stands next to him.
He had thought he had recognized the eye in Aedion and Aelin earlier, but with them so close to his face, he knew they were the same ones he’d been painting for years, the ones everyone admired and complimented. No one had known where he had gotten the idea though, those dreams had been kept secret.
“Are you Cadewyn?” The girl asks, withdrawing her finger from his face once she realizes that he’s awake. He scrunches his eyes and sits up, feeling sleep logged and wondering how long he’s been out.
“Ah… yeah, and you’re Augustina?” He guesses, observing that she is probably about fifteen, and holds the posture he would expect from a princess.
The girl wrinkles her nose. “Don’t call me that. It’s Gusty,” A nice breeze swirled around Cade, making his eyes grow wide. “Like the wind?”
Cade sputters, not used to potent elemental power coming from someone other than his mother. “I see… how long have I been asleep?”
A fantastic chapter!
********************
“You.” Nesta was startled by a voice at the library doorway. “I knew I liked you.” With a coy grin Amren walked into the library.
“Amren,” Cassian snickered at her, “I thought you were still at Summer. What happened? Get sick of your boy toy alrea-“ He chocked on the rest of his sentence as Varian walked in behind Amren.
Varian raised an eyebrow at Cassian, almost daring him to finish that sentence. Instead, Cassian strode over to him and clasped arms with him. “No harm meant, Varian.”
As the two men continued talking, Amren made her way over to Nesta. “It’s about time you did something about Morrigan and her behavior towards you. Just watch out for whatever she might have in store for you after this.”
“I can take care of myself.” Nesta replied cooly.
“We’ll see about that, girl. You haven’t done a very good job of it for the past month, have you?”
Nesta’s gray-blue eyes sparked and narrowed in anger at Amren. How dare this little female blatantly call her out on her behavior this past month! “I wouldn’t expect you to understand. It’s not like you’ve been around here to help in any way, too busy with your…Varian.” Nesta blushed at almost having called him her boy toy like Cassian had.
Amren chuckled. “It’s good to see you still have that fire in you. You’re going to need it.”
Before Nesta could ask what she meant, Cassian and Varian joined them. “So what brings the two of you back to the Night Court, little monster?”
“Watch it, Cassian, or you’ll be missing your favorite dangling parts before you can put them to good use.” Although she was considerably shorter than he was, Amren still smirked down her nose at Cassian, who foolishly wasn’t backing down an inch.
Thankfully, Varian answered his question. “Amren brought me here so I could ask a favor of you. I’d like the opportunity for me and my men to train with you and the Illyrian army.”
By the look on his face, Cassian was clearly surprised by this request. Nesta was confused. “What do you mean, train? The war is over.”
“THIS war is over, but there is always another war, girl.” Ignoring Nesta’s bristling stare, Amren moved over to the couch and sat down. “It may be soon or it may be centuries in the future, but there is always someone fighting somewhere and inevitably we will have to get involved. It’s best to be prepared. Besides, what else are those men going to do with all that time on their hands every day?” Snorting, Amren waved her hand and a tray of fruit appeared on the end table. She picked up a strawberry while Varian plucked up a pair and sat down next to her.
Cassian nodded in agreement. “It’s best to keep training every day, no matter that it’s a time of peace now. Think of how much worse it would have been against Hybern if we hadn’t had trained warriors to fight him.” Nesta flinched at the reminder that her lack of training with her powers had nearly cost Cassian his life, and did cost thousands of warriors their lives. It had also killed her father. Her guilt resurfaced with a vengeance, and she wrapped her arms around herself tightly.
Turning to Varian, Cassian explained to him, “I’ll have to get permission from my High Lord and Lady. I’m assuming you have Tarquin’s approval to make this request?” At Varian’s nod, Cassian continued, “Then I’ll ask them when I see them in the morning.” Cassian picked up a bunch of grapes and began popping them into his mouth, chewing silently, already strategizing for the training that would take place.
Nesta’s heart was beginning to race. Another war? Would there be one again soon? Who would it be this time? Perhaps the human queens were even now gathering forces, forming plans for the destruction of Prythian. Vassa had said her fellow queens posed a threat. The Wall was gone, the Treaty was voided and there was still a lot of unknowns in the future between Prythian and the humans. Peace was still a fleeting hope, nothing solid. And who knew what other monsters lurked in these lands, or across the seas?
Nesta shivered and tightened her hold on her arms, gulping in air in quick little gasps as her mind spiraled into the darkness she’d been fighting off earlier, fighting off forever it now seemed. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t survive another war, she couldn’t watch as thousands fought and died and everyone she knew risked their lives again. They would depend on her for something and she would fail them, again, and this time someone else would die, maybe this time it would be someone she couldn’t live without, someone like-
Cassian’s grip on her shoulders tightened, he was standing right in front of her, she hadn’t even seem him move closer to her. “Nesta, it’s ok. Nothing is happening. We are still here, still in the library. I’m right here. I’m with you.” His soothing voice and calming words broke through her panic and he watched as her breathing slowed and evened out. Slowly her gray-blue eyes regained their focus and she locked her gaze onto his hazel eyes until she could breathe easily again. Embarrassed, she glanced over to the couch and found it empty.
“I told them we’d catch up with them at breakfast. They didn’t notice anything. At least, Varian didn’t. Who knows what Amren sees?” With a little smirk Cassian dropped his hands from her shoulders and the absence of their warmth made her shiver. “How about we go up to the roof and relax for a while before bed?” Only the lack of any innuendo in his voice convinced her to go along, so she nodded her head and followed him to the roof.
He held the door open for her as she followed him onto the rooftop. Making their way to the lounge chairs, Cassian sat on a swinging bench designed to accommodate his wings. Nesta sat next to him, and he rhythmically swung them back and forth, using one foot to push them to and fro. They remained silent as they listened to the sounds of Valaris, the quiet murmur of adult voices and the laughter of children on the evening air. Settling himself more comfortably in the swing he spread an arm across the back of the bench behind Nesta and closed his eyes, careful not to crowd her.
Looking up at his profile, Nesta studied the shape of his forehead, the curl of his hair around his jawline, the outline of his lips. She remembered being surprised at their softness when he kissed her on the battlefield. She wouldn’t have thought those lips could be so gentle. And warm. She remembered the blaze of heat she felt as his lips touched hers, so briefly. Too briefly. She shivered, and Cassian, feeling her tremble, opened his eyes and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to him. “There’s a bit of a chill up here tonight, isn’t there?”
Humming something noncommittal, Nesta snuggled in closer to Cassian’s warmth, feeling a thrill along her spine as his arm wrapped more tightly around her, holding her closer to his body. Tentatively, she laid her head on his shoulder as he started to rock them back and forth once more. Soon, his warmth and the gentle sway of the swing had her eyes drooping, and as she nestled in deeper against Cassian she thought she heard him murmur right before she fell asleep, “Sleep, Nesta. I’m not going to leave you.”
Another lovely chapter.
Summary: Senior Rowan Whitethorn is new to town. It doesn’t take him long to get use to a new school, make new friends, even join the local hockey team. But it also doesn’t take him long to meet sophomore and figure skater Aelin Galathynius. And it doesn’t take him long to realize one thing; he can’t stand her.
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Elide sat perched on the footsteps of the house. The morning sun beamed down on her, the sky a crystal blue. A light breeze picked up, blowing around her hair as she pulled her jacket tighter around her. They were only a week or so into October, and the wind definitely held that harsh, autumn bite. But today, it was chillier than normal. She’d definitely be warmer if she were to just wait inside. But being inside would mean a higher chance of seeing her uncle. And she wasn’t in the mood to start her day off by having a lovely chat with Uncle Vernon. Especially on game day.
After going through her normal, quiet routine of getting ready for school, Elide had made her way downstairs. She prayed to every god she knew that it would be one of those mornings where her uncle was passed out. Thankfully, her prayers were answered.
When she made it to the living room, she found Uncle Vernon asleep on the couch. A half empty bottle was clenched in his hand as he snored loudly. Not wanting to risk waking him and getting yelled at this early, Elide went outside. Which is how she found herself sitting on the front steps of her parents’ old home.
She didn’t remember them well, her parents. They died when she was young. She grew up with her Uncle, who was always a cold evil bastard. But when his business burned down years ago and he last basically everything, that’s when the drinking started and things got worse…
