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Chapter Text

A cruel laugh echoes, bouncing off the walls. The wolf flinches as more blood splatters on his pristine white fur. Then the laughter stops.

The man smirks at the girl and says softly: "Rest well. I'll be back, then we'll see what truly makes the fire bringer burn."

The wolf snarls, and the man says tauntingly: "Sit. Stay there. Good little doggy." He then walks off.

Slowly, the girl lifts her eyes to the wolf's. The wolf blinks thrice: Are you ok? The girl blinked once. Yes. The wolf frowns, but the girl sat up slowly, and he saw that her eyes, once filled with despair, contained a glimmer, a glimmer of wildfire. She lifted her finger, and dipped it into her wound, wincing slightly. She then starts sketching symbols onto the altar. A bright light filled the room, and it was in that moment that Fenrys realised, Queen Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius was back and ready to take on the world.

Chapter Text

--Feyre--

I grunt lightly and try to spin my blade in a new manoeuvre. Instead of successfully beheading my opponent, I fall to the floor.

Cassian walks towards me and hauls me up, saying 'You should not try that when your opponent literally has a sword at your neck.' I grumble, muttering something about Cassian being a horrible teacher.

Suddenly, Rhys says down the mating bond ~Horrible teacher? Really? I would have thought Cassian would be decent?~

I roll my eyes and amend sweetly ~Don't worry, he's not as bad as you. You made me copy down those ridiculous sentences.~

'And yet, in spite of all your complaining, you can read perfectly now.' came a voice behind me.

Cassian sighs and walks off, muttering that he was going to train with Azriel. I walk towards Rhys, and he cups my cheek, about to give me a kiss, when suddenly, there is a thump from behind, and a human girl and a wolf fall from the sky. The girl is unconscious and bloody, but the wolf shoots up, protecting the girl.

Rhys immediately mutters: "We've got to get rid of that wolf." The wolf pounces on Rhysand, and a bright light flashes. But instead of a wolf, there is a beautiful man standing there.

Beautiful? Really? A wolf man tries to kill me and your first thought is that he's beautiful?

I snicker and walk forward to try to help, but the night court's already got their blades pointing at his neck. He snarls but I ignore him and walk towards the girl. She was bloody, yes, and seriously injured, but with her golden hair and delicate features, she was gorgeous. What was up today, with beautiful strangers falling from the sky.

As soon as I raise my hand to the girl, the wolf man immediately says: "Please! Don't hurt her. I'll do anything, just don't hurt her." I raise my brow, confused.

Rhys is immediately by my side, and I shoot to him ~Calm him down. I'm going to try to heal her.~

He nods and started talking to him. I move towards the girl, and a glow envelops my hands.

--Fenrys--

A man rushes forward and gives the order to stand down. They retreat, but none of them sheaths their swords.

He beckons me over and says: "Relax. Feyre, my mate, is trying to heal her."

I sigh with relief and say: "Thank you" He nods, and calls the others over.

One of them hisses: "Rhysand. How can we trust him."

They look me over and I say to the man, Rhysand: "Sorry about the whole trying to kill you thing. It's been a while. My name's Fenrys."

He nods again and says: "It's ok. My name is Rhysand, High Lord of the night court. He points at some of them and say: "That's Mor, my cousin and third in command, also known as Morrigan. Cassian, general of my armies, and that's Azriel, shadowsinger."

I nod mutely and walk to Aelin. I kneel down at her side, and help Feyre turn her over. Her shift is removed and her scars are on full display. I ignore the gasps, tears falling slowly down my cheek. The blond one, Mor, grips my arm and says, "We'll need to get a proper healer. Let's go." I notice that everyone is walking to the house. I bend down, grab Aelin's hand, and melt into the shadows.

Rhysand

I can't believe it. Fenrys can winnow. Me and Feyre winnowed soon after, but somehow, he managed to find the healer's room. I walk in, masking my surprise, a mask snapping into place. I know Feyre is doing the same too. I nod to Madja, who is busy working on the girl. Her wounds look horrible, and I shudder when I think of her scars. Fenrys hadn't seemed surprised, but he had flinched nonetheless. Madja finishes and slips off.

I plop next to him on the couch and ask: "How old is she?"

I can see him calculating how much to tell me, but he slumps and said flatly "19."

I tighten my arm around Feyre and whisper: "How did she get all those scars?"

He shakes his head and says: "Her story is hers and hers alone to tell." I nod, but try to slip inside his mind. His shields are strong, I can't do much. ~I can't get in.~ I hiss down the bond.

~I know.~ She replies.

I lean over to the girl, about to try to wake her up, but suddenly, her eyes snap open. I stare at her turquoise eyes, ringed with the most brilliant gold, and I gasp.

I bow down and whisper: "Your majesty."

Chapter Text

--Aelin--

As soon as I open my eyes all I can see is a white ceiling. I wonder where I am. I think of Rowan, of Aedion, of Lysandra, of my court, and my gut clenches.

Then a voice shakes me from my thoughts. "Your majesty." I bolt up, and the first thing I can see is Fenrys, who immediately blocks my line of sight. I ignore his concern, and slip past him. Just behind him is a man kneeling down, his gaze averted to the floor. I breath in his scent, he smells like citrus and the sea.

The scent awakens something from my memories, and I whisper: "Rhysand."

I stumble backwards, shaking my head. I collapse onto the bed, murmuring: "No. No. It can't be."

This has to be one of Maeve's illusions, it has to. Fenrys moves and places a hand on my shoulder. I fill with rage. How dare she taunt me with those I've lost, those I've loved. I lift my head, and let out a blood curdling scream.

--Feyre--

Fire erupts. Red and orange hues dance along the ceiling and the walls, encasing the room. I throw up a shield for me, Rhys and Fenrys. Still, the room burns, but then, the night court arrive. Amren throws up some shields, and they take in the scene. Amren turns deathly pale, and she rushes to the girl, murmuring quiet words. Everyone stares in confusion as the fire is drawn back towards the girl, slipping inside her.

Amren points to Fenrys and says: "Everyone except for him and Rhys. Out."

We start to protest, but Rhys points a finger to the door. We exit without another word.

Aelin

I stare desperately at the figure, still kneeling next to me. She lifts her hood, and I take in every detail. Her short black hair, her silver eyes, her upturned nose. So different, yet irresistibly familiar.

I say softly: "Hello, Aela."

She lifts her head up and whispers: "My queen"

I can tell Fenrys is confused, but I beckon Rhysand forward.

He bows low and repeats breathlessly: "Your majesty."

I look at him, and whisper: "I thought you guys were dead"

He smiles gently and says: "I survived"

"So did I." says Aela

A confused Fenrys cuts in and says: "Rest, Aelin. We'll introduce ourselves. You'll be safe. Rest."

I nod and close my eyes, slipping into oblivion.

--Amren/Aela--

Rhysand says: "Amren, why did she call you Aela? Also, this is Fenrys. He came with the queen."

I nod to him, but he just growls and says "How do you two know my queen?"

I sigh and say: "Shut up! We'll take turns. My name is Aela, cousin of Queen Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, sister of Prince Aedion Ashryver. Questions?"

Fenrys shouts: "Liar! Aedion never had a sister."

Rhysand cuts in before I can answer: "Look, stop arguing. This is clearly not working. Let's just wait for Aelin to wake up, and she can catch us all up. In the meantime, Fenrys, why don't you tell us about Aelin."

Fenrys stalks towards Rhysand, and says quietly: "I've said it once and I'll say it again. Her story is hers and hers alone to tell. Do not push me. And don't you dare try creeping into my mind again, I was trained to block attacks from your kind."

He spits the last words, and I glance at Rhysand, half expecting him to start a fight. But he nods respectfully, and slumps into his seat.

--Feyre--

It has been two hours now, Rhys still hasn't came out. He's blocked his mind from me, and I can't help but feel worried. Azriel and Cassian are long gone, they had decided to check on the Illyrian troops. Mor sits next to me, worried and confused. Then the door swings open, and out comes Fenrys, his eyes darting around the room, probably searching for threats. I roll my eyes, typical Fae male behaviour. But behind him, Amren and Rhys are carrying the girl between them, their eyes just as wary. Rhys doesn't even look towards me, solely focused on getting the girl to the couch. As soon as she sits down, Cassian and Azriel appears. They frown slightly, but they sit down when told.

The girl waves her arm at Rhysand, and he says: "Everyone, this is Queen Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.

Fenrys cuts in, saying: "Queen Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius. She's mated and married."

I ask: "Mated? How? She's human."

Rhysand shakes his head and says: "She's A Demi Fae"

We all stare, confused, but suddenly, Cassian splutters: "Wait. Whitethorn. Rowan Whitethorn. As in the most powerful full blooded Fae across the worlds? And he's mated to a Demi Fae?" He snorted disbelievingly.

Fenrys snarls: "Don't you dare insult my queen."

He takes a breath and opens his mouth, undoubtedly about to launch into a long winded story, but suddenly, Aelin raises an arm. He stops immediately, glancing at her in concern. She whispers something to Rhysand, and he murmurs: "The full truth? Everything?" She nods and closes her eyes.

He turned to us and said: "Lower your shields."

I oblige, squeezing my eyes shut, and a vision fills my head. A young Aelin, beloved by her parents. Her playing with a boy and girl with identical golden hair and blue eyes. Then the girl, Aela, showing odd power. Aelin and the boy Aedion saying goodbye to Aela as she was sent off to another world to control her power. Amren, I realised was Aela.

Then her meeting Rhys, a distant cousin of hers. The way they interacted was enough to tell me that they loved each other like siblings. The mutual respect between them made me see why Rhys had reacted the way he did. I realised that Aedion wasn't in the scene, probably because he missed Aela. They were young, so young. Too young.

But the memories continue, showing her waking up, feeling blood, her parents dead beside her. Her being sent to a slave camp, her meeting her mate, her fighting a war. Then her being captured, being tortured. Then the memories stop. I frown. There was an odd age gap between her finding her parents dead and her being sent to the slave camp. I open my eyes, about to ask her about it, but what I see stops me.

Mor is on the verge of crying, it has to have affected her the most. Cassian and Azriel are trembling with rage, Fenrys has a hand on the queens shoulder, and Amren, or Aela and Rhys are staring at the floor. The queen herself sits deathly still, the memories too much to bear.

I stand up, about to speak, but then a bright light fills the room, blinding us all.

Chapter Text

--Feyre--

A group bursts out of the portal, swords drawn. The night court also draws their swords, but before a full fight can begin, Aelin stands up.

She says: "Stand down." We ignore her, but the strange group obeys, sheathing their swords. A fae male bursts out of formation and runs to Aelin. To our surprise, he envelopes her in a hug, and kisses her. Then the group runs towards her, and all of them embrace Aelin, some laughing, some crying, some hugging.

She turns to us and a ghost of a smile dances on her lips. She sketches a bow and says: "Night court, meet the court of Terrasen."

We all stand in shock as she introduces them one by one, most of them cracking a joke or threatening us. She smiles and says: "Rhysand, Feyre, Azriel, Morrigan, Cassian. Thank you for your hospitality." How did she know our names? I was floored. She gave us a wink and said: "Once memories are shared, however horrifying they might be, it's a good idea to put those shields back up. You never know if there is an unexpected daemati lurking in your midsts."

With that, her court roars with laughter, but I notice Rowan had walked over to Aelin. The two of them aren't laughing, and Rowan has an arm on her back. An act, I realise. The jokes, the winks, all of it an act. Not for herself, but for the sake of her court. I say as much to Rhysand through the bond, and he replies I know.

I notice that Amren was staring at Aedion, then I remember. Aedion was her brother. awkward Aelin caught Aedion's eye and beckoned him forward.

"Aedion," she called out "there's someone I'd like you to meet." He raises a brow suspiciously but walks to Aelin anyways. Aelin gestures to Amren, who lifts her hood.

She smiles and said: "Hello brother."

"Aela." he gasps.

He embraces her and they started crying, tears pouring down their faces. I see Aelin pat them on the back, then slip off. I glance at Rhys, who in turn squeezes my hand.

Aelin walks to him, and he told her "You guys can use the rooms on the third floor."

She nodded in thanks and mutters: "Excuse me."

She then strides towards her court. I saw that Rowan and Fenrys were glaring at each other, and I smirk.

This should be interesting ~I shoot down the bond~.

He doesn't reply, just smirks back.

She walks forward and says: "Goddamn it you two, I nearly die, and when I come back from the dead you two are in a pissing contest. Cut it out. Stop with the territorial male bullshit please. It's giving me a headache."

I gape at her attitude, but she's not done yet. She assigns rooms then stares at the two of them, saying with a sigh: "If you don't stop with this I will personally gut you and I will feed your remains to Abraxos and give your blood to Manon to drink. Just stop with the whole male territorial bullshit thing. It's annoying, and I'm already in a pissy mood."

The night court stares in shock, sure, we made threats, but not to that level of viciousness. As Fenrys trudges upstairs, Rowan raises a brow. She just smirks slightly, clearly they were talking through the whole mate bond thing.

I turn to Mor and ask: "Is this how we look when me and Rhys talk?"

She screeches: "YES! Finally you get how weird is it." I open my mouth to retaliate, but then Aelin turns to me, her mate at her side, a wicked gleam in her eye.

"Do y'all have a training room?"

Chapter Text

--Aelin--

I glance at their shocked faces, reigning in my laughter. They blink a few times and eventually, Aela says: "Aelin, maybe you should get some rest. The rest of your court is resting, you should too."

Aedion laughs and says to Aela: "She's changed a lot from that pampered little princess. She hardly ever rests. I'm not sure if she even sleeps. Let her train. We should go talk."

Cassian ignores them and says to me: "It's good you want to train. I've seen your memories. Your magic is powerful, but you need to know how to fight without it."

I can sense Rowan beside me, trying not to laugh, but I school my face into a mask of neutrality and shrug. "Sure, I'd love to."

Aedion grins and says: "On second thought, I'd rather watch this."

"So would I." says Aela

I scowl and roll my eyes. Azriel has flown off, and Rhysand goes to the kitchen with Mor, but Feyre decides to come with us.

--Feyre--

When we reach the training room Cassian and Aelin decide to spar. She's dressed in a black suit, and I'm worried, it seems Rowan and Aedion know something we don't. Aelin walks to the weapons and selects a blade. Cassian nods in approval and heads to the ring, armed with a similar blade. He shows her how to defend, and she takes it all in. Her form is odd, she might get knocked of balance quite fast. After a good thirty minutes, Cassian tells her he's going on the offensive, and she has to defend. She nods uncertainly, but next to me, Rowan and Aedion are smirking. Concerned, I tell Rhys to come. Unsurprisingly, Mor, Azriel, and Aelin's court also come. I quickly fill them in, and strangely, her entire court is grinning like cheshire cats. Before I can think too much about it, Cassian begins.

He lunges for her right but she sidesteps him. She blocks his strike, and she ducks, parrying with surprising ease. He stops and says: "That was pretty good." Before he can finish, she moves towards him, going on the offensive. She twirls and jabs her sword at his stomach, giving him a nasty gash. I watch on at the display and gapes as Cassian stabs his blade, his Fae abilities already healing the gash. They they start doing their swordplay, swords clashing, and I gasp as she suddenly jumps and vaults over Cassian, landing with a roll. She then flicks her arm and a dagger flies out, he ducks, but Aelin sprints towards him and tackles him to the floor. Not a single scratch on her, she points one blade at his throat and another between his legs.He yields instantly.

"No fair!" he cries, thoroughly bloodied "I didn't know we were fighting."

She shrugs lightly, hauls him up, and says: "I gave you plenty of time to get used to it. I could have killed you 27 moves ago by the way. You need to protect your left side more."

Aelin's court is laughing, tears pouring down their faces, clearly they've seen their queen do this before. I stagger forward, and say: "Who are you?"

She takes a deep breath and says: "Queen Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius of Terrasen, also known as Adarlan's Assasin, The King's Champion, Heir of Mala, Witch Slayer, Heir of Brannon, Aelin of the Wildfire, Aelin Light-bringer, the queen of flame and shadow, the queen who was promised, Celaena Sardothien, Lilian Gordaina, Dianna Brackyn, Elentiya, and Nameless." She then looks around at her court and says: "Have I missed anything?"

Damn, that's a long list of titles. Rhysand says

I nod in reply, but then Rowan says "What about Fire-breathing b*tch-queen?"

The night court gasps. Did he just insult his mate? We stare as her court bursts into laughter. When they calm down, she smiles and says: "Oh, how could I forget that. Classic." She continues "When we return, remind me to add that to my list of official titles."

This time everyone laughs. This queen was a handful, but she was also so, so funny. Then the queen stops laughing.

"Rowan," she says, her voice dangerously low. "If you guys are here, who the hell is fighting Erawan.

"Actually, he's dead." he said, beaming.

"What?" she gave a gasp of delight "How?"

He then shifts uncomfortably and mutters: "Dorian, uh, used the keys to - "

She springs forward, knife at the ready, but her entire court holds her back, struggling. She glares at them and they let go.

She snarls at Rowan and says: "Explain."

Aedion steps forward and says: "He's fine Aelin. Manon's with him. He lost his magic, but for some reason, he's still alive."

Aelin sighs and says: "Thank the gods."

"Uh, what?" asks Rhysand

Aelin waves her arm and says: "Later, I need to wash Cassian's blood off me."

I giggle, but Cassian frowns in displeasure. Rhysand says: "Why not now?"

She rolls her eyes at him and sighs: "Look it's a long story, and it's a story I do not have the energy to tell, so, LATER. And anyways, you would do well to practice patience, you're just as impatient as ever!"

He grumbles, but agrees to wait until dinner.

With that, we disperse off to our rooms, agreeing to meet for dinner in Velaris.

Chapter Text

--Rowan--

After Aelin's hilarious fight with Cassian, we decide to head upstairs for some sleep. Well, Aelin sleeps. The second she's inside the room, she falls onto the bed. I take a bath, then fall down next to her. After tossing and turning for a good ten minutes, I give up, and instead stare. I stare at the angel next to me, her golden hair reflecting the sunlight. Her hair frames her face, drawing attention to her sunken cheeks. I reach out and arm and gently touch her cheek. She's been hurt in so many ways.

'But she's here.' I remind myself silently 'She's here and she's real. My fireheart is here.' I let a tear slip down my cheek. The first I've shed since she was taken. Since she was tortured. I start sobbing, this was all my fault. I wasn't there to protect her. She awakens at the sound, her eyes snapping open.

She looks at me, her eyes filled with sorrow, and whispers softly: "It wasn't your fault."

I shake my head, unable to speak. My mate, my perfect mate was captured, and it was my fault. It was all my damn fault. I should have been there, I should have never let her go into that witch mirror in the first place. I keep shaking my head, and I sit up. I swing my legs to the edge of the bed and cover my face with my hands.

She jumps over in front of me and tilts my head up, forcing me to look at her. She snarls at me and says fiercely: "Listen to me. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't yours, it wasn't Lysandra's, it wasn't Manon's, it wasn't Elide's, it wasn't Lorcan's."

I look at her and realise that for the entire time I've been here I hadn't looked at her once. I've glanced at her, but I've never really looked at her. And in those blazing eyes of hers, there was guilt. Overwhelming guilt. I say quietly: "It wasn't yours either."

Now it's her turn to look away. I lift her up and she sits next to me, not saying anything. I shift closer to her, and she leans her head on my shoulder. I prod her gently and ask: "Aelin?"

She bites her lip and says hesitantly: "It was my fault. I fell into her trap. I should have been there. I should've have been there to forge the lock, to fight alongside my people. I should've. I left thousands of people defenceless, they believed my fire would have saved them. And it didn't." She wipes a tear off her cheek.

"How many died Rowan?" She asks, her voice cracking. "How many died because I wasn't there to save them?"

Her body starts heaving, tears streaming down her face.

I say softly: "Fireheart, don't cry. You were prepared to do the ultimate sacrifice for them, you were prepared to die for them. It wasn't your fault. It was Maeve's." "And mine." I add silently.

She just shakes her head, her tears unending. So I cradle her close and rock her gently, even as tears pour down my own face. I whisper soundless words of comfort, but I know they do little to ease her pain.

So we sit there, two motionless figures, and let the waterworks begin.

Chapter Text

--Aela/Amren--

I stare tentatively at the two figures. Aelin is slumped against Rowan, both of them shaking uncontrollably. I take a small step, unsure what to do. I thought I was being quiet, but Aelin turns to me, wiping off her tears. She smiles softly, her eyes weary. She slips out of Rowan's grip, and walks towards me. Rowan just sits there, looking tenderly at Aelin.

She reaches me, and I say: "Hey."

But she doesn't bother replying. Instead, she embraces me, and slowly, hesitantly, I put my arms around her. But then behind us comes a snort.

Aedion and Rhysand are outside, and Aedion says: "Consider yourself lucky you got such a warm welcome. When I saw Aelin, she told me she was ready to accept my thanks for her spectacular rescue. Then she called me a hulking brute."

She just lifts her head in the air and says haughtily: "I stand by what I said."

Then she grins, the action so lovely and familiar I have to stop myself from hugging her again.

Rhysand just shakes his head disbelievingly: "You've changed Aelin."

She shrugs lightly and replies: "So have you." She gave a low whistle. "High lord of the night court. Impressive."

Rowan comes up behind Aelin and asks: "But not as impressive as you?"

Aelin smiles, and she says: "Exactly. Thank you for not making me say it."

We all burst out laughing, and Aelin asks: "Now, what are you idiots here for?"

Rhysand hesitantly says: "We were just wondering if you wanted to go for lunch. And we could catch up. Since we haven't seen each other in such a long time."

Aelin readily agrees, but Rowan mumbles something about not wanting to spend time with idiots. She whacks him on his arm, despite calling us the exact same thing moments before.

He raises a judgemental eyebrow, but she chooses to ignore him and says: "Don't mind him. He treats everyone like that. I'm pretty sure he punched me within the first few hours of meeting me."

He sighs with a long suffering expression and mutters sarcastically: "Because you're just so likable."

We all giggle, but Aelin rolls her eyes, telling us to meet her downstairs in ten minutes.

--Aelin--

As soon as the others leave, Rowan is beside me. He squeezes my arm gently.

Are you alright?

I nod. I clear my throat and murmur: "I'm going to take a bath."

He doesn't say anything and I turn back to him, silently questioning.

Did she die? She wasn't there when I came here.

He shakes his head, knowing who I was talking about.

But she will. And so will Cairn.

I nod again, swallowing and heading to the bathroom.

------Time Skip-------

--Aedion--

We all wait downstairs, me and Aela murmuring softly. I can't believe it. After so many years. She's back. I can't help the smile that tugs on my lips. She catches the smile and grins back. Her grin is identical to Graviel's, and my chest tightens. It's only a matter of time before Graviel realises he had sired not one but two children. I shake my head slightly. I turn to Aela, about to tell her, when Aelin suddenly winnows in.

"Shit." she says dizzily

The three of us stare, mouths agape. She glances at us and smirks.

"How did you do that?" I demand.

She flashes us a grin and says: "I ran into Feyre. She asked if I could winnow. I told her no, and she seemed surprised. Apparently all powerful fae can winnow. So I decided to give it a shot."

She laughs at our stunned faces, but Rhysand recovers quickly and congratulates her. Then we head off. I fully expect her to run to the front, she adores shopping, but she hangs back and whispers: "My scars are here."

I look at her, confused, why wouldn't her scars be here?

She sees my silent question and murmurs: "After Cairn did what he did, they would heal me before he began again. All my scars were gone. And now they're back."

I'm about to ask her more, but she then darts forward to them, brightly chirping something. I shake my head, I know the part she plays, and the only thing I can do is hope that one day it will be real. They laugh, the two of them looking upon Aelin fondly. We find a restaurant, and we sit down.

--Rhysand--

Sitting down in Rita's, I still can't believe Aelin is really here. I remember meeting her all those years ago. I was five years older than her, and I thought her nothing more than a spoiled petulant princess. Then I heard the rumours, the rumours of a child-queen with incredible powers. Slowly, we warmed to each other. She gained my respect, and I know I gained her and Aedion's. Aedion was still missing his sister terribly, and so I had kept out off his way.

I look over at the rest of the group, who were animatedly chatting about the fight with Cassian.

Curious, I ask: "Where did you learn to fight like that? I showed them all your memories. There was nothing of you learning to fight."

Aelin gives a small smile: "Tired or not, if would have been a mistake to let you see everything."

I shake my head in confusion: "But I searched every bit of your mind!"

Aelin grins, but it doesn't quite meet her eyes. "A glamour." Then she hesitates. "If you guys want to see it, I could drop the glamour."

An invitation, one that she was offering tentatively. I knew why she was hesitating, it was a big deal of trust she was placing in us. I accept, but to make her feel more comfortable, I offer to share mine too. Amren too offers, and so does Aedion. I can see her gratefulness, and slowly, I give them my memories.

Amren doesn't look too surprised, Aedion is visibly shaken, but Aelin, Aelin is just frowning.

"How old are you?" she questions, her tone carefully neutral

"537." I reply. "Why?" Then it hits me. "You're only 19."

Her face devoid of any shock, she calmly turns to Amren, repeating her question, and Amren replies: "498."

She takes in the information, then says to Aedion: "Time must work different here."

Aedion nods in understanding and finishes: "And that's why you got your scars back."

She nods, then turns to us, ignoring the question in my eyes.

She says: "Rhys, I'm projecting the essential memories into a chamber. Show them. I'm withholding some that are unnecessary."

Whilst wondering why she doesn't project them herself, I incline my head. I understand why she wasn't eager to show all of them. I don't want your pity, was what she meant.

I move closer to her, and she murmurs: "Is there a way you can show them without me actually witnessing them? Some are too much."

And there was my answer.

I swallow, these were going to be horrifying, I just know it. But I do my task, and when I'm done, all of us has turned a few shades greener.

Amren opens her mouth, probably to say some words of comfort, but I don't bother. No one could understand what she'd been through, and so no one could ease her pain completely. Her mate likely helped, but not much. I look up, and it is indeed a queen which stares at me, her gaze unwavering. Her face softens at the concern which I'm sure is showing in my eyes, and she gives me a tight but reassuring smile.

As the food comes, Aedion and Amren shows us their memories. Aedion's are mostly battles, but Amren's are more interesting, they show her coming into Prythian and training under a sorcerer, then her joining my court. It's so strange. I've never seen this side of Amren before. This loving, caring, kind side. She snarls at me, reminding me that her other side is still active, and I realise I've been staring at her. I mumble an apology, and hastily look away as Aelin chuckles.

We're all attacking into the food when I realise Aelin is eating a bit of salad and a teeny piece of chicken. I watch as she swallows the food, chewing slowly, then downs a glass of water.

She notices my attention and offers me a brief smile, explaining: "If I eat too much after I haven't eaten for a while, I tend to hurl my guts up."

I know the words she avoided. starved She doesn't want pity, and so I return her smile, but I would be lying if I say it wasn't forced. She was so young, and she'd already been through so much. We eat in silence, then Aedion starts telling us some stories of Aelin when she was a child. There was a lot of cursing and threats from Aelin, but I could tell she didn't mind.

After that, the mood lightens considerably, and we see some of our friends in town, Mor and Feyre shopping for dresses, and to my eternal surprise, most of her court is there, with the exception of a few of the cadre. Here, Aelin greets her friends more personally, wrapping her arms around Lysandra, cursing at Lorcan, smiling at Elide, poking fun at Fenrys, and lastly, she greets the newcomers, Manon and Dorian. They had just arrived from Terrasen, she greets Dorian with a friendly hug, and against my better judgement, she challenges Manon to a fight.

I gulp as I remember this was the Manon Aelin had creatively threatened Rowan and Fenrys with. She looks horrifying, with her iron teeth and nails. Amren is introduced around (as Aela), and most of Aelin's court welcome her with open arms, except for Lorcan, who mutters something about too many self righteous females in their court.

All the girls turn on him at once, he curses before sprinting off. The girls run after him, but Aelin stays behind. I smile at them a little wistfully, they reminded me of my court. Cassian and Aedion were mighty warriors, and Lorcan and Azriel were pretty similar, except Lorcan cursed a lot more. Elain and Elide were pretty much identical, and Aelin reminded me of myself. Cocky, powerful, and for some reason, we were both super chill with self sacrifice. Weird. Aelin noticed me standing there, and she pulled me into the throng, introducing me.

Slowly, the group disperses, and I'm left there standing with Aelin. I offer to fly her to the manor, but she shakes her head and starts walking.

We walk for a while, then Aelin whispers: "I really thought you were dead, I really did. I mourned you, I - I-"

Her voice breaks off, and I whisper: "I thought you were dead too, but it doesn't matter, we're here now, ok? You're my sister, and I love you more than anything in the world."

Chapter Text

--Rhysand--

I can see Aelin is shaken by my words, but she recovers quickly.

I open my arms, but she shakes her head and murmurs: "Later. Where no one can see us. Can we go somewhere to discuss this privately? "

I nod in response, I guess I hadn't realised how it would look to the civilians, seeing their high lord randomly hugging a stranger. So I bring her to an abandoned Illyrian war camp. It's raging cold, but she seems unaffected as she walks through the camp, the wind viciously whipping her face. She flips fallen bench over, and sits down.

I gape: "How are you not blue in the face now? You're wearing nothing except for that knife filled suit of yours."

She chuckles lightly, a vibrant, colourful sound, and replies: "I live in Terrasen remember? We're trained to fight in the snow."

Noticing me shivering, she creates a bonfire. It burns and crackles merrily, a light in the darkness. We both sit there quietly, her mulling over something in her head.

To break the silence, I say "For the first order of business, I would like a hug from my beloved sister."

She snorts at my tone and promptly kicks me in the leg.

"Half-sister." She reminds me, but hugs me anyways.

I breathe in her scent, jasmine, lemon verbena, and crackling embers. Feminine, elegant, and utterly wild.

She looks at me, and a soft smile grazes her lips.

"I've missed you." she says.

"Well, I haven't." I reply sassily.

All siblings have bonds, but with two siblings as powerful as me and Aelin, our bond is incredibly special. We can communicate through small actions. We get a faint inkling of what the other is talking about, and the rest is open to interpretation. Not as detailed as a mating bond, but detailed enough to tell me her sigh is saying something along the lines of 'The very heartfelt greeting you gave me would say otherwise. Your majesty?'

She snorts lightly. Her face, although set in a smile, is still contemplative, and I nudge her gently.

She tilts her head and mutters: "I don't know how to tell them."

I sigh, telling Feyre was going to be a challenge.

"Well, we could always do it during dinner." I propose.

She nods in agreement and says: "The only question is if we want to tell anyone beforehand."

I raise my eyebrows in silent question.

She gives a faint shrug: "I don't know about Feyre, but I have a feeling Rowan would be a little pissed if I don't tell him first. But then again, everyone in my court would be pissed as hell I didn't tell them as soon as I knew."

I grin, mildly amused, and reply: "Same with the Inner Circle. Also, do we want to tell them at the start or end of dinner? It might feel better for us to tell them at the start, but it might make the rest of the dinner awkward."

She continues with a grim smile: "And if we tell them at the end they will be even more pissed at the fact that we sat through that whole dinner without telling them, but we can escape if the need arises."

She thinks on it for a while, then says: "Well, I think it would be better if we get it out of the way and tell them at the start. And if they're mad we could always ignore them and stuff ourselves with food."

I dip my head, I can see she's trying to make light of the situation, and I'm thankful for that.

We continue sitting in silence, and I say: "I think we should tell them all at the same time. It'll be easier to just say it once."

She inclines her head, but doesn't reply. I sigh heavily, and she pokes my shoulder, saying comfortingly: "Relax. Look, we've both been to hell and back, we'll manage our courts. Somehow."

I feel a tinge of love in her words, and I'm just glad that she's here with me.

After a bit more of planning, we both head back to the House of Wind to prepare for dinner.

--Rowan--

An hour after her court returns, Aelin barges into our shared room. The sound wakes me immediately, and I bolt upright.

"Where were you?" I demand

She tries to give me a smile, but it falters.

"I was with Rhysand." she says soothingly "I was ok. He brought me to see an abandoned Illyrian war camp."

I know she isn't telling me everything, but I go along with this, asking her what it was like, and so on. Her replies are carefully crafted, they don't tell me much.

Slowly, quietly, I ask to see her back. She flinches but peels off her suit. I glance at her back, it was in horrible condition. There wasn't an inch of bare skin, and tattoo I once inked there had disappeared. I stand, speechless. She walks away and sits down.

Her voice hoarse, she says: "The new scars that you see are from the last session. After he finished, the healers would heal me, and he would begin again."

She pauses here, eyes shut tightly.

I hate how she says those words. Her tone so devoid of emotion, her eyes so unfeeling. But I don't hate it, and I don't fear it. It's part of an unspoken pact between us, and there isn't a part of her I don't love with all my heart, but I wish she never had to go through what she did. I wish that sitting before me was a sassy, smirking, assassin, not a queen with a spirit so close to being broken forever.

Her voice, just as blank as before, pulls me out of my thoughts: "My scars from my days as Celaena were gone, but when I came here, they appeared again. I think it's because there's a time difference."

With that, she slipped off to the bathroom. It was already dark outside, and she needed to prepare for the dinner. She comes out a while later, dressed in a sleeveless green dress with jeweled silver straps. Below her waist, the material flows freely, pooling at her feet. Hanging from her earlobes are silver earrings adorned with emeralds, twin to the silver emerald necklace around her neck. As I watch, she slips on some silver heels and braids her hair back loosely. She looks stunning, and catching my eye, she gives me a smirk.

I didn't bother dressing up, but for once, she doesn't seem to mind. She just calmly arms herself with daggers, holding Goldryn at her side.

She takes my arm, and we head to the kitchen.

Everyone is already here, all of them are chatting amiably. The girls are dressed up like Aelin, but the boys hadn't bothered. I chuckle softly, and glance at Aelin. She's smiling at them, but it's more forced than anything. She looks over to the other side of the room, where Rhysand and Feyre are chatting. Feyre is excited, but Rhysand looks distant and stiff. Aelin catches Rhysand's eye and tilts her head to the direction of the door.

She smiles at us and murmurs: "Excuse me." and slips out.

Rhysand follows a heartbeat later, strolling casually out, nodding politely at me. Feyre looks just as confused as me, but turns to Mor and starts talking. I sit down and find that Cassian is beside me. He starts talking to me and Fenrys about fighting stances, and I nod politely as he speaks, wondering what Aelin and Rhysand are doing.

--Feyre--

I wonder where Rhys went. He seemed kinda strange when we were talking, and suddenly, a minute after Aelin arrives, he goes away. Speaking of the queen, she had really dressed up! She looked fantastic, and from the not-so-subtle looks he was giving her I know Rowan thought so too. It's hard to believe that the injured girl that dropped from the sky this morning turned into this badass lady in just a few hours. It was, however, likely an act. Her scars were horrifying, what had she seen, what had she done? I turn to her court, expecting her to be there, but she had disappeared. I have a feeling her and Rhys's disappearance are related. I try talking to Rhys through the bond, but his mental shields are up and he ignores me. I'm about to get up to go and look for him, but Mor suddenly appears and starts chatting brightly. I don't want to seem rude, so I stay.

--Rhysand--

Outside, Aelin is pacing nervously.

"Relax." I say "Remember what you said to me? We'll take it day by day."

She nods, but still looks terrified.

She looks to me and says: "I'll handle the Terrasen bit, then you do the Prythian bit, then I'll do the pregnancy, and you can do the second pregnancy. Then I'll do the escape and the second Terrasen bit and the events until the portal. Then we can alternate after that."

I grab her by the shoulders and say: "Aelin, we'll be ok. I completely forgot what you said, but let's just alternate. You go first, then tell as much as you can without breaking down, then I'll go."

She nods again, and I offer her a smile. She returns it, and together, we walk into the room, Aelin kicking open the door.

Everyone looks up at the loud slam, and me and Aelin sweep in and walk to the front of the room. Everybody is confused, especially Feyre and Rowan.

At the exact same time, we let out a chuckle at their faces. The sound is identical. Aelin nudges me subtly, and I know what she's silently telling me: Mom's laugh.

I smile ever so slightly in reply.

I clear my throat and say: "All right guys, we have something to say. Listen up."

Most of them stop talking, but I can see Cassian is still shovelling bread into his mouth.

Aelin's lip curls in displeasure, and she gives a snarl so brutal that I shudder.

He looks up, sees Aelin's vicious face, and mumbles an apology.

I gesture to Aelin, and she begins: "About 20 years ago......."

Chapter Text

--Aelin--

I take a deep breath, and begin: "About 20 years ago, there was a young woman named Evalin from Erilea. She was close friends with an expert on Wyrdmarks, an Eyllwe princess. Evalin was curious about this ancient runic language, so she started learning how to wield them.

One day, she attempted to use a mark to communicate with her grandmother, Mab, one of the three fae sister queens. Unfortunately, she messed up and accidentally opened up a portal to Prythian, which was where she ended up."

From here, Rhys cut in: "Evalin discovered she had Illyrian blood. She quickly learnt to use her wings, and she developed a love of flying. After a while however, she stumbled into an Illyrian war camp. She spun a story of belonging to a low class Illyrian family, and told them she hadn't had her first bleeding yet. So they allowed her to stay and work as a seamstress. To stop her bleeding from coming, she starved herself and gathered illegal herbs.

Sadly, this didn't prevent her body's natural course. A male in the camp told the camp lord, and she tried to flee, but she was so malnourished she was easily stopped. Just as her wings were about to be clipped, the High Lord of the night court appeared. He felt a mating bond click into place between them, and to prevent her wings from being clipped, she lied and said she felt the bond too. He took her back to the night court and married her."

"Wait," interrupts Mor "is this story about your mom?"

Fenrys says to me: "Wasn't your mom's name Evalin?"

Rhys just raises a hand and says: "Questions later please."

I nod to him my thanks and continues: "Evalin found out she was pregnant with a child from her marriage with Rhoe, the king of Terrasen. Afraid of what the high lord would do to her unborn child, she told him the child was his. When the baby was born, Evalin named her Aelin, meaning 'of the moon', in honour of Aelin's great grandmother, Mab, also known as Deanna, goddess of the moon. A few years later, Evalin bore another child, naming him Rhysand.

Evalin loved Rhysand, but after 5 years, she wanted Aelin to meet her real father. So at the next high lord meeting, she sought out the high lord of the spring court, who took pity on her and agreed to help Evalin and her daughter fake their deaths. Before the plan was set in place, she made Rhysand dresses to give to his future mate.

Under the pretense that they were visiting Rhysand, Evalin purposefully brought Aelin to the wrong Illyrian war camp. There, the high lord of the spring court pretended to murder them, when actually, Evalin and Aelin took a portal home. The high lord managed to find heads that looked like them and sent them to the nearest camp. He also somehow found wings and kept them as proof that he had murdered them."

Here, I pause. The room is looking at me expectantly, but I can't bring myself to talk about what happens next.

Rhys knows what I'm feeling and says smoothly: "Finally back in Terrasen, everyone was confused at the five year old girl the queen was saying was the heir to the throne. So she did something horrible. After telling Rhoe everything, she placed a memory spell on everyone, making them think that they had all watched Aelin grow up. She made every detail count, and even went as far as to tell them that during the birth, she had stopped breathing and Rhoe was the only thing that saved her.

Aelin grew to be friends with Aedion and Aela, living in blissful ignorance. Now, you already know that Aela was sent away from looking at Aelin's memories, but what you don't know is the portal never properly closed. Rhysand accidentally got sucked into Erilea, and upon his arrival, Evalin took it upon herself to alter his memories. When he met Aelin, he thought she was just a bratty little princess, and she thought him to be nothing more than an idiot. Then one day, he stole chocolates for her, and they slowly gained each other's respect.

They both thought there was something familiar about the other, but they didn't say anything. Luckily, with both of them being daematis, they were able to figure it out."

Sensing he's about to tear up, I say: "We were scared that the high lord would harm our mother, so we swore an oath that as long as he lived, we would never tell anyone."

Rhysand

There was silence. Complete and utter silence.

Then Aela says quietly: "You two are brother and sister?"

We both nod in response.

Cassian looks at me and says angrily: "Your dad has been dead for a while. Why didn't you tell me about Evalin? Why didn't you tell Az? She treated us like her children!"

"Because she's Aelin's mother too goddamnit!" I scream back "She's Aelin's mom, and it's as much her story to tell as mine!"

"Oh of course!" Cassian shouts "What does it matter? She's dead anyways! It doesn't matter how she died. As long as she's in her grave, then it's ok!"

Next to me, Aelin starts silently crying.

Cassian freezes. He tries to apologize, but Aelin slips off.

Rowan tries to go after her, but Lysandra stops him and runs after her with Aela and Fenrys.

"What the hell?" Rowan shouts at Cassian. "I've just gotten her to start talking about her parents deaths! Do you know how hard its been for her? Do you even care?"

I quickly interject: "Woah, Rowan, calm down. Look Cassian, Azriel, I'm sorry for not telling you guys. It just always seemed like the story was Aelin's, and it didn't feel right to tell without her there. Plus, it was always so painful that she left me here, I didn't think I could do it without Aelin."

Turning to her court, I add: "I'm sure it was also painful for Aelin to talk about it, don't be too harsh on her."

Lorcan snarls, points at Cassian, and says: "I don't have a problem with my queen. I do, however, have a problem with him."

Cassian doesn't say anything and just starts eating.

Rowan growls and says: "I don't feel like eating. I'm going to train."

He walks off, Aedion, Lorcan, and Graviel following close behind.

Manon cackles and says: "Well that went wonderfully. Now, excuse me. I'm going to see Rowan kill some idiots."

She promptly walks out, and Amren grins, a truly terrifying sight.

Dorian winces and says: "I'm going to make sure no killing happens."

He too leaves. Elide is the only one from their court still here.

She gives us a polite, half-hearted smile and says: "I think I'll take my leave now. Enjoy your dinner."

She quickly leaves, and I'm left with the inner circle.

Mor turns to me, and asks with raised eyebrows: "You stole chocolate for her?"

With that, everyone bursts out laughing.

I nod, chuckling: "It's true. I saw her nursemaid telling her to stop eating chocolates and her being royally pissed, and I stole some chocolate from the kitchen."

Feyre snorts and says: "Well, now we know what to bribe her with."

I glance at Cassian, he hasn't said anything, and Azriel is more silent than usual.

I turn to them and say: "I truly am sorry. I know what she was to you guys."

Azriel replies: "It's ok. I was just thinking about the girl. What she's been through. How can she still laugh?"

The words hit us hard, not one of us had ever been through what she had. Except maybe Azriel.

Cassian clears his throat and says: "I'm sorry about earlier. I was really mad and I didn't mean the things I said."

I nod, the room's atmosphere is tense now, quite the opposite of what it usually is.

We eat in silence, none of us quite want to talk.

Just as we are finishing, Feyre murmurs: "I'm not feeling quite well. I'm a little light headed. I think I'll head up first."

I glance at her in worry, but she says down the bond ~Overbearing Fae bastard~

I chuckle lightly and reply ~Ok, ok. I'll leave you alone.~

She smiles gratefully and heads off.

--Cassian--

Just as I'm about to leave, Aelin bursts in the room, everyone else following at her heels. I'm about to apologize, but what I see in her eyes stops me.

Fear.

Pure, undiluted fear.

She breathes heavily and says: "We've got a problem."

Chapter Text

--Rhysand--

I look at Aelin for a moment, she looks so terrified.

Cassian is the first to recover, asking harshly: "What is it?"

Panting, she replies: "I can't explain it. I felt the Valg, but it was incredibly powerful. It was, it was like Erawan."

The name itself strikes fear in my gut. Aelin is leaning on Rowan, panic clouding her features.

Mor asks: "But I thought you guys killed him?"

Aedion speaks up, his face rather pale.

"Uh, a few weeks ago, Dorian, Rowan and I had this little theory that the gods might not have been entirely truthful and might not killed Erawan, and um"

Aelin levels a lethal stare at him, and he's practically shaking in fright. Aelin growls, the sound low and deadly. I can tell Amren is delighted at this ferocious side of her cousin, she's enjoying the show with a smirk.

"A little theory. Give me one reason why I shouldn't be pinning you to that wall with a knife between your legs right now."

Aedion winces, withering under her gaze.

Rowan leans forward and murmurs something to Aelin, and she whirls to him and says: "Oh yes! Thank you for that little reminder. Let me amend my previous statement."

She clears her throat, plasters a smile to face and says, her voice honey sweet: "Give me one reason, one teeny little reason why I shouldn't gut you," she points at Aedion "castrate you," she points at Rowan, "and pin you to the wall with a blade at your neck," she points to Dorian "for not telling me this little theory of yours."

The three of them gulp in unison, and Lysandra says: "You shouldn't do any of those things, although I would love to see you gut Aedion, because this is exactly how we feel when you choose to reveal your horrifying war-changing plans at the worst time possible."

A few others mutter their agreement, and Aelin sighs and sheathes her blades, muttering: "Fair enough."

She plops onto a chair and waves her arm, waiting for an explanation.

Dorian steps forward, and says: "It all began when I started wondering why I was still alive and had my powers even though I closed the lock. I spoke with Aedion and Rowan, and we thought there was something fishy, so we did a little digging. We then realised that all of the valg armies disappeared, which was odd, because they could live without Erawan. Long story short, we used Damaris and contacted Elena, and she told us that the gods merely sent Erawen to a different world as my power wasn't strong enough. And that's why we're here."

Aelin sighs and lets out such a foul string of curses that even Cassian looks shocked.

"Always some drama with those idiots." she mutters.

I blink at her and ask: "Uh, are you talking about the gods? Like your grandmother the gods?"

She sighs and says: "Yes! Obviously! Their all idiots. Especially Deanna. She's such a b*tch."

She turns to her court and says: "Alright, we need to figure out Erawan's plan. We can't do shit until we figure it out so all of you sit your asses down and use your f*cking heads."

There's a silence and then the scraping of chairs, along with a few murmurs of: "She's in a pissy mood."

Once everyone is seated, she asks: "Ideas?"

Cassian speaks up: "Maybe he's trying to get one of the courts to ally with him?"

I can see Aelin nodding at me, an invitation to take charge.

I incline my head in thanks and say: "Yes. We should have a high lord meeting. We can schedule it for tomorrow afternoon."

I can see the cadre is silently taking in information, their minds whirring.

I'm proven right when Fenrys says: "Is there a court with fire magic? Fire is Valg's weakness, so it would make sense for Erawan to try to get them on his side. Also, where's Feyre? Shouldn't she be here?"

I reply: "Feyre isn't feeling well, she's in her room. As for your earlier question, the autumn court are fire wielders. The high lord, Beron, is vile enough to be a Valg."

There are a few light chuckles at that, but Aelin stiffens, her face paling.

"What?" Amren demands, noticing the change.

Her voice low, Aelin says: "When Erawan took control of a body, he would do it over a small period of time. It would start with the person feeling dizzy or light headed, and whilst they were feeling vulnerable, he would break in."

"So?" Mor asks "Get to the point!"

Aelin turns to me and continues: "What if he wasn't looking to gain allies first? What if he was looking for someone powerful to take control of, someone with the powers of the seven courts?"

Feyre.

Chapter Text

--Rhysand--

No. This can't be. I stare at Aelin in horror, even as the night court rushes out. I slump into a chair. Deep down, I know it's too late. The mating bond is gone. It didn't snap, it just faded. I distinctly remember, Mor, Azriel and Cassian crying, but I can't hear them. Fear unlike anything I've ever encountered fills me, and I can't do anything except sit there. Slowly, they trickle out the room, heading to the living room. Aelin is the last to head out, she turns her head over her shoulder. She moves gracefully towards me and my heart clenches, thinking of how much Feyre had longed for that immortal elegance.

Reaching me, she places a gentle hand on my shoulder. I shudder and start crying. She places her arms around me and I lean into her embrace, glad for the comfort.

After what seems like an eternity, she pulls away and says: "Be strong. For her."

She looks up and I notice Rowan is standing at the door. She shoots him a loving smile, and I realise he's been in my position before. Except with him he knew she was heading into torture for sure. All I can do is hope that my mate isn't suffering.

She walks out, gesturing at Rowan to follow her, but he turns back and shoots me a look. A look filled with determination and understanding, not a shred of pity. I meet his eyes, mine showing nothing but grim resolve. He nods in approval and briskly walks off, trailing behind Aelin.

--Aela/Amren--

Aelin walks out of the dining room, Rowan close behind. A while later, Rhys appears, his face calm, the devastation gone. I can tell Aelin and Rowan had something to do with it, they had lingered for a reason. I give them a grateful smile, and Aelin gives a tight nod, her attention on Rhys.

Speaking of Rhys, he's saying: "Alright, the high lord meeting should be scheduled tomorrow evening, I'll send the messages later. We can stay the night there and update them on the current situation."

Elide speaks up thoughtfully: "How do we know if Feyre is actually possessed by Erawan? Maybe we're reading too much into the whole Valg thing. She might have been taken by a court, maybe the spring court?"

"That's true." Aelin says "We don't know for sure, but the meeting should go on anyways because the Valg presence was really strong, so they should know about the potential threat. Plus, if Feyre was taken by a court we can find out then."

We all muble our agreement, there isn't much else to discuss.

Suddenly, there is a rumble of power.

Rowan immediately roars: "SHIELDS!"

We all snap up our shields, and then there is a flash of white light.

Aelin has shifted. If possible, she looks more beautiful, her golden hair gleaming, the gold in her eyes blazing wildly. She's encased in a pillar of flame. She burns strong and bright, and after a few minutes, when her fire dies down, I cautiously lower my shield. WIth that much of fire, the house should have been burnt, but there's nothing except the neat ring of burn marks around her feet.

Her eyes are shut, and I can hear Rowan gently whisper: "Aelin?"

Her eyes open, and her turquoise eyes, once ringed with gold, are now ringed with silver. Aelin's glorious embers have returned, but this time, they have turned white.

"Deanna." Manon snarls

Rowan growls: "Get out of her body."

Aelin, or Deanna, tilts her head and gives a small laugh.

Aedion demands: "What do you want b*tch?"

Then she says: "My, my, no need to be so rude. I am, after all, your beloved great grandmother, am I not, Aedion?"

Aedion growls in return.

She lets out a small chuckle and says:

"When two worlds collide,

and promises are cast aside,

the Dark shall reign,

and forever remain.

Unless the books are combined,

where the answers are yours to find.

This will be the sacrifice,

Nameless is the price."

Then Aelin collapses, unconscious, but still surrounded by the oddly white fire. I rush forward to help, but Rowan says: "No! The moon fire is so cold it will burn you. We have to wait."

I can see the pain in his eyes, and I quietly comply.

Once the fire is gone, Rowan runs towards her, gently lifting her onto the couch.

The night court is looking on in surprise, Cassian asks: "What the hell was that?"

Aedion replies, shaking with fury: "That was Deanna."

A voice comes: "An absolute b*tch and unfortunately my dearest great grandmother. She possessed me."

I turn in surprise. Aelin is up and her usual sassy self already.

The surprise must have shown because she grins and says: "I collapsed because there was too much magic. I'm nowhere near a burnout."

Rhys glances at her and says: "Well, if you're ok, then let's discuss what Deanna said."

Aelin asks: "What did she say? I couldn't hear anything."

I repeat the poem back to her and she mutters a few curses that made Rhys flinch.

She sighs and says: "Nameless is the price. What did I say? Always some drama. Right then, uh 'When two worlds collide' I'm assuming they mean Prythian and Erilea and us meeting, so that's happened"

"Promises are cast aside" Dorian muses "Well, I guess the gods broke their promise to us for not taking Erawan. They never specified the person had to be really powerful."

"And 'the Dark shall reign'." adds Lorcan "Probably referring to Erawan."

"Or your sweet Aunt Maeve." jokes Fenrys

With that, Aelin pales.

"Oh no." I say "The last time you looked like that was when Feyre was taken. Spit it out. What did you realise?"

"Wait," she says. She turns to the cadre and asks: "When you swore your oaths to Maeve, what did her blood taste like?"

Rowan frowns at her strange question but replies: "Like power."

Graviel added: "Ancient too. Why?"

She doesn't say anything, just shakes her head, her eyes flashing with pain. Fenrys turns to Aelin and blinks four times.

She smiles slightly and says: "When I was with her, I managed to cut her once. The blood flowed black, like a Valg, but when I blinked it flowed red and smelled coppery."

Cassian cuts in, his face oddly grave: "If your aunt was a daemati, then she should be able to manipulate you into thinking the blood was red and smelled like copper."

Mor says: "If Maeve is Valg, we'll deal with her. Right now, let's just focus on getting our High Lady back."

Aelin nods almost absent mindedly.

She says: "And forever remain." She sighs

I say: "Unless the book are combined, where the answers are yours to find, this will be the sacrifice, nameless is the price."

An uneasy glance is passed around Aelin's court, and Rhys asked: "What is it?"

Aelin opens her mouth to reply, but I whisper: "Nameless. The mark of the bastard born, the mark of brannon. Your mark. You are nameless."

She dips her head wearily, her eyes tired.

Graviel interjects thoughtfully: What about Feyre? From what you've been telling us, the courts don't respect her much. She hasn't made a name for herself. Isn't she, in a way, also nameless?"

There is a silence as the truth sinks in.

She says: "Look, it doesn't matter. Maybe the gods were wrong. They were wrong about me having to forge the lock, they're probably wrong about this."

Aedion asks: "And if they're right?"

She swallows tightly and says: "I was gonna die forging the lock anyways. We can't forge the lock now, the Wyrdkeys are gone, so we might as well try combining the books Deanna talked about."

Mor asks solemnly: "Even if you have to die?"

Aelin nods: "Yes. I was born with my death prophesied, and I was saved by Elena all those years ago, just so I could die now. I have accepted my fate long ago, and I would rather my death over that of your High Lady."

Mor replies: "Then you forever have my respect."

She bows, low. Azriel follows, and so does Cassian.

Aelin snorts and says: "Alright, that's enough you idiots. If I wanted to mop the floor with you guys like I did with Cassian it would be when we're sparring. Right now, let's focus on the books this prophecy is talking about."

Rowan grips her arm tightly, and an unspoken message passes between them. She snarls, and he snarls back. They continue this mute match, territorialism in their respective gazes.

Finally, he shouts: "I don't care! We just lost you Aelin. We can't lose you again. We need you!"

She screams back: "No you don't! If Erawan dies then you don't need me!"

Then she turns towards us. She hastily excuses herself and slips off, Fenrys close behind. Rowan sighs and walks off in the opposite direction.

Fenrys returns and says: "Her majesty asked me to piss off. Word of advice Cassian, don't taunt her too much when you spar with her tomorrow. Also, Graviel, Lorcan, Aedion, the queen wants to spar with us at seven tomorrow morning. Get some ice packs ready and wear flame proof clothing. Also Manon, Aelin wants round two. No swords. Her daggers, your teeth and nails."

He walks off briskly.

Dorian says: "We'll talk about the books tomorrow after breakfast. By the way Rhysand, Aelin's probably in the library."

He walks to his room with Manon.

Aedion groans and says: "C'mon Lys, let's go. I better get in as much sleep as I can. I'll be so sore tomorrow I won't be able to sleep."

Graviel walks off too.

Elide is left behind and says: "I pity them."

Cassian asks: "Why? Also, who's going first? I want to watch Lorcan against Aelin."

Elide giggles and says: "Don't be stupid. They're all going against Aelin at once. How else is she going to work her mood off?"

She's about to walk off when Rhys asks: "Wait, does this happen often?"

She shrugs and says: "It happens when she's pissed. So yeah, pretty often. Usually it's a one on one with Manon or one of the cadre. Sometimes when she's really pissed she'll add in Aedion. If no one is free, she'll round up as many warriors as possible and fight with them. Usually only about 20 of them dares. Also, the last time she was this pissed she fought with 60 soldiers, then Rowan, then Lorcan, and even then she had to go to a mountain and explode some magic. Then she came back and cursed at everyone. So Cassian, good luck tomorrow. I'll remind her to try to not stab or burn any vital organs."

Cassian, thinking she's joking, says: "Oh, tell her that it's perfectly fine. She can stab or burn anything. I don't really care"

Elide smiled delightedly and said: "She'd love that! I'll tell her tomorrow."

A deep chuckle came from behind. Dorian was standing there.

He said smilingly: "It wasn't a joke you know. You should be happy Elide hasn't told Aelin yet. But for real, if you don't mind getting seriously injured, please go first. I passed by Aedion and Lys discussing how to get knocked out the fastest. Gavriel and Fenrys are figuring out how to carry more blades and Lorcan is practicing. And Lorcan's been practicing for like five hundred years."

Mor asked: "They're that terrified?"

Dorian nods: "Aelin fights the best. On a normal day, she, Lorcan are Rowan are evenly matched. But when she's pissed, everyone knows she's gonna win. They aren't gonna go down without a fight though, so you'll be in for some entertainment."

Elide adds: "Gods, the way she fights. It's a thing of beauty really. She makes it look like a dance, all her movements are smooth and graceful, almost feline. You just have to see it for yourself, nothing will ever describe it. The cadre are excellent fighters in their own right, but Aelin will always triumph over them."

"But wasn't she just tortured for months?" I question.

She replies grimly: "Exactly. She probably has a lot of residual anger, and she never allows herself to lose, so it'll be a bloodbath"

With that, the pair walk off, chatting amicably.

I can see Rhys gulping. Tomorrow would be an interesting day.

________________________________________________________________________________

Hey guys! Hope you are enjoying this fanfic. Can you believe how many things happened in a day? Like way too much. And we just started into the plot. And there's one more chapter before Aelin sleeps. Great.

Also, I know Aelin's fighting skills are a little exaggerated, but I'm a sucker for all powerful female main characters.

Quick question, can someone clarify if Deanna and Mab are the same person? For the purposes of this story they are, but in the actual series is Aelin and Deanna related?

Anyways, big shoutout to @ecstatic572 for voting, commenting, and adding this story to your reading list! Your support is wonderful.

Please vote and comment.

64528ng 💛 💛

Chapter Text

--Rhysand--

After Elide and Dorian leave, I decide to head to the library. I leave Mor, Azriel and Amren teasing Cassian, they're sure Aelin's gonna win. When I reach the library, I see Aelin wandering around the shelves, her fingers gently caressing the dusty spines. I smile fondly, remembering her doing the exact same thing when we were little. Wanting to surprise her, I blend into the shadows. I barely move two steps when a dagger comes flying at my head. I duck, but I know the dagger was too slow for her to actually have put in effort into the throw.

Her tone bored, she says: "Show yourself. Before I actually try."

I come out and she asks sympathetically: "How are you? You ok with Feyre and all that?"

I nod but don't reply, not wanting her pity.

She picks up on the message and asks: "What do you want?"

Frowning slightly at her harsh tone, I reply: "I want to know why you are so okay with dying. I lost you for 15 years Ae. Now I might lose Feyre, and I don't want to lose you again."

She sighs: "Look Rhysie. It's like I said to Mor, if someone dies, it's gonna be me."

She sits down on an armchair and begins reading a book. I sit next to her and take her book.

"Why," I ask "Why do you want to die?"

She shrugs and says: "For the reasons I just told you. Now give me my book and lay off me. I know your plans all involve you dying, so why are you so pissed if I take a page out of your book?"

I snarl and say: "Because these people are my family, and I'm willing to protect them with my life!"

She snatches her book back and says:"Well, there you go. There's my answer. Now GO! Until I fight I really don't want to see anyone else."

I say back: "Tell me why and I'll go! Or are you just a coward?"

She flinches at the word and says: "Please Rhys. Just go."

I snarl again and say: "Tell me why and I'll go, coward."

That's all it takes.

She loses it and shouts: "Fine! You want to know why? It's because I've had enough! I spent my life cowering in the shadows while my people, my friends, they fought and they died. They sacrificed so much. Too much. They gave things no one should have to give. They gave those things because I am a coward! She died to spur me into action, she died when I should have."

She falls to her knees, shaking violently.

"So because of that I will not sit by and let anyone else die. I will not have their blood on my hands. I will not allow anyone else to die for me, to die because of me!"

She falls quiet, tears streaming down her face. I stand awkwardly, I should've known it was personal for her when she flinched..

I crouch down, murmuring: "It wasn't your fault Ae. I didn't mean what I said. You aren't a coward. You gave so much too. Hell, your body is proof of that."

She just shakes her head. Right then, Rowan storms in. He glances at the scene and shoots a murderous glance at my direction.

He kneels down beside her and hugs her before saying with surprising tenderness: "It wasn't your fault Aelin. It wasn't."

I blink. The words roll so smoothly off his tongue, like he's said them many times. Too many times.

He wordlessly cradles her head, rocking her gently all the while staring furiously at me. I read the message in his eyes: If she wasn't crying I would kill you right now. After her crying ceases, he lifts her up and they walk to their room.

--Rowan--

What the hell. What the f*cking hell. That idiot called Aelin a coward. If I wasn't so worried about Aelin I would've flayed that bastard alive. I glance at Aelin. She's leaning against me, her arms wrapped around me. I press a kiss to her head and her lips tug up ever so slightly.

I pinch her lightly and whisper: "You aren't a coward. If you were, Nehemiah and Elena would have chosen Dorian instead."

Her eyes fill with sorrow at the mention of Nehemiah, and I mentally kick myself in the ass.

I ask: "Are you still pissed?"

She shakes her head.

"Are you still going to spar tomorrow?"

She nods tightly.

She fakes a smirk and says: "I've still gotta train."

I nod silently in reply.

We keep walking in silence, then as we pass a corner, I realise too late that the candles aren't lit. In the darkness, Aelin crumples into a mess. She lets out a scream.

Everyone comes rushing out of their rooms. Aela runs to Aelin, but she can't do anything. I try my hardest, but she's still curled in a ball on the floor.

I notice Rhysand is concentrating hard, and I say "No!" just as Aelin stops screaming.

She starts whimpering, backing away.

"No," she whispers "Maeve, don't."

Then she shouts: "You will never find the keys!"

My heart breaks.

I whirl to Rhysand and ask: "What did you do?"

He looks at me desperately and says: "I tried getting into her mind. To tell her it's real."

Mor asks: "Seriously Rhys? After Maeve? Come on."

I turn back to Aelin to find that Fenrys and Azriel are already there. They are each holding her hands. I watch as Fenrys blinks 5 times (this is real, you are awake), then 4 times (I am here, I am here with you). I watch as Azriel murmurs soft words, his shadows darting around Aelin. I watch as she gets up slowly, and embraces the two of them, murmuring: "Thank you."

She looks up, tries her best to smile at us, then walks off. I nod my thanks to all of them, then go after her.

When I catch up with her I ask her a silent question: Do you want to talk about it?

She shakes her head, then flops onto the bed. I take a bath, then lie down next to her.

Throughout the entire night, she screams and cries periodically. I rub my hand on her back, comforting her, even as tears slip down my own face.

Tears for everything she's endured, and for what is yet to come.

Tears for my fireheart.

Chapter Text

--Cassian--

I wake up to hear the clang of metal. I run downstairs to see Aelin sparring with Lorcan, Fenrys, Graviel and Aedion. I watch as she backs up slowly to the side of the ring. Aedion comes the closest, and she moves. She kicks Aedion in the gut, and at the same time, she uses the blunt side of her sword to knock him unconscious. She moves so quickly it's like she's winnowing. She starts fighting with Lorcan, their blades clashing. She ducks and throws her sword to her left hand, attacking his undefended right side. She uses her free hand to create daggers and shields of fire, the dagger which she uses to attack Fenrys, whilst using the shields to protect herself from Lorcan's frequent attacks. Graviel tries going behind her, but as she has her back to the side of the ring, she manages to grab another sword and starts fighting Gavriel and Lorcan at the same time. While still keeping the fire daggers attacking Fenrys.

Her complexion is pale and there are bags under her eyes, and the light in her eyes has faded. I glance to Rowan, he's looking at her worriedly. We all heard the screaming last night, but Rhys told us not to interfere. I watch as she surrounds herself with flame and starts attacking. A sword lodges itself in Graviel's shoulder, then another in his thigh, and another in his stomach. He quickly surrenders.

Fenrys throws the last of his daggers into the pillar of flame surrounding her, and it goes through her arm. She rips it out, muttering a string of curses. She looks at the scar twisting up her arm, I recognise it being from bone extraction. Her eyes fill with rage, but the anger is leashed, her eyes glazing over. Her flames die down and she stares at the two of them, her face emotionless, slipping into the killing calm. Fenrys takes one look at her, another at her sprinting toward him, twin blades in hands, and immediately surrenders, but Lorcan does no such thing. He runs towards her, and arming herself with throwing knives, she begins.

She dashes towards him and goes on the offensive. Stab, parry, duck, stab. She flips over him with ease, and stepping out of the back tuck, she continues attacking, her fae form already healing her arm. She has the advantage here, she can fight equally well with both hands. She knocks his blades to the ground and drops hers too, silently mocking him. As she starts going on the offensive, punching mercilessly, he refuses to surrender, and finally, one blow to the temple, he's knocked unconscious.

She pokes the wound in her arm, it looks nasty, but she deems it acceptable and calls Manon to the ring.

Rowan objects immediately. He darts forward and tugs her out of the ring. He looks at Fenrys, pleading in his eyes.

Fenrys immediately says: "Cassian, why don't you come for a match?"

I nod my acceptance and step forward, palming a sword.

--Mor--

I glance worriedly at Aelin. After what she'd said last night she had forever earned my respect, and I know the rest of us felt the same too. Her and Rowan are in a silent match again, and I can tell she's angry that she isn't fighting. Her cheeks are sunken in, and I can't help but think of the screams from last night. Me, Cassian, Azriel, Rhys, and Amren were worried about her and were about to run in, but Elide warned us that Aelin would likely hurt all of us on accident.

Amren's reading a book right now, occasionally glancing up at Aelin. I watch as Aelin walks over to her and starts up a conversation.

Their chatter carries in the wind, I can hear Aelin saying: "Hey. What are you reading?"

Aela replies: "I'm trying to find something to to help Erawan get out of Feyre."

Aelin asks: "Can I help?"

Amren says bluntly: "I would have to teach you a whole new language."

Unfazed, Aelin replies lightly: "Well, maybe I know this language."

Amren sighs and says: "No, you won't. Barely anyone speaks it anymore. Now quit pestering me. You're just as annoying as when we were kids."

Aelin places a hand on her heart in mock indignation, exclaiming: "I seem to recall you being absolutely infatuated by me. Besides, Ik ken mear talen dan jo miskien tinke. ('I know more languages than you might think' in the Eyllwe language)"

Amren chuckles and says: "I suppose you have learnt some stuff."

Amren tosses her a book.

Cassian and Fenrys are just finishing up their fight. I turn just in time to see Cassian and Fenrys clash swords, whilst their eyes are locked, Cassian sends a red dagger flying for Fenrys thigh. A dirty play, but it works. Fenrys rips the dagger out, but whilst he's wincing Cassian's already tackled him to the floor. Fenrys surrenders, and Cassian starts gloating.

Upon noticing the ring is free, Aelin runs into it. She looks around for Manon, but Manon, Dorian, Elide, Lysandra, Aedion and Azriel have already went for breakfast.

Rhys walks to Aelin and says: "Stop fighting. You barely got any sleep last night, and you can't be too tired, we have the high lord meeting later."

She shoots him a glare and scans the room. Her lips form a grin and she gives a sharp whistle at Rowan. He sees her and refuses.

She just shrugs and says: "Fine then. Cassian! Fancy a round?"

Cassian nods, a devilish gleam in his eye. This fight is going to be long and bloody.

Rowan sighs and says: "I'll do it if you promise you'll eat breakfast immediately afterwards."

She nods.

He gives her a suspicious look and she groans and says: "I swear on my future throne that when one of us surrenders I'll eat breakfast."

This pleases him and he says: "MInimal magic. All weapons allowed. Unconsciousness is immediate surrender."

She agrees and kicks Cassian out of the ring.

They draw their swords and face each other, circling carefully.

Aelin lunges, and I expect him to move, but he doesn't, and she sends him crashing down, a blade at his throat.

The surprise on her face is evident, but Rowan merely says: "I surrender."

He pushes her off him and says: "Breakfast. You swore on your throne."

"But that's not fair!"

"Too bad princess. I didn't swear anything. You agreed to the terms."

Aelin snarls, but true to her word, she puts her weapons down and stalks to the kitchen, muttering filthy curses under her breath.

Chapter Text

--Aelin--

I walk into the house, cursing under my breath. I sit down, grabbing a waffle.

Cassian asks: "Did Rowan beat you?"

I snort and reply: "Obviously not. He made me swear that after the match I would eat breakfast. Then he lost on purpose."

Rowan comes in and smirks: "What's really got her imperial majesty so upset is that I outsmarted her."

I swear thoroughly, and Cassian winces.

I spot a movement in the shadows and I say flatly: "Azriel, you can come out now."

He steps out and blinks at me in astonishment.

I smile and say: "I'd be a piss poor assassin if I couldn't see you. What did you find out?"

The room falls silent, everybody looking at him expectantly.

He clears his throat and says: "I was just observing Aelin. For the high lord meeting, perhaps she should dial it down a bit?"

My court snorts in unison.

Aedion says: "Good luck on that. I'm pretty sure the Lords of Terrasen pissed themselves when they met her. And that's when I spent a week telling her to dial it down."

They return to eating their breakfast, but I say to Azriel: "As much as I would love to, I'm physically incapable of that. And if I was any less then what I am, the misogynistic idiots would flay me alive. But I would like to learn about them."

Rhys says: "That's a good idea. I'll teach you after breakfast."

Aela shakes her head and says: "Actually, I need you to bring me to the library. Your priestesses and I aren't on good terms."

Rhys groans and says: "Naturally. Azriel, I need you to help me do some spying, and Cassian, I assume you'll be fighting, so Mor, do you think you could handle it?"

Mor agrees swiftly, and we head up to Rhys' personal library, Rowan, Dorian, Lys, and Elide following.

Most of the others go out to spar, but Gavriel and Aedion head to talk.

Aedion mouths: "Aela"

Ah. Graviel's daughter. That would be an interesting conversation.

Mor's looking at me, confused, and I murmur: "Graviel's Aela's unknown father."

She blinks a few times, but eventually just sighs and says: "Why am I not surprised that there's more drama?"

I chuckle lightly, and sitting down in the library, I begin to learn.

Mor

After thinking for a moment, I say: "There are seven courts in Pythian. They are split into seasonal and solar courts. The solar courts are the Dawn court, ruled by Thesan, Day court, ruled by Hellion, and the Night court, ruled by Rhys and Feyre. The seasonal courts are the Spring Court, ruled by Tamlin, Summer court, ruled by Tarquin, Winter court, ruled by Viviane and Kallias, and the Autumn court, ruled by Beron."

Aelin is smiling at this, and although I respect her deeply, I'm a little suspicious.

Lysandra asks: "Only two high ladies? Viviane and Feyre?"

She's surprisingly sharp! I nod in reply.

Aelin says: "Beron was the one with the power of fire right? The one with the magic against Valg? The one that's vile and dumb enough to be a Valg?"

I choke on a laugh and say: "Yes to all of that. Actually, here are the powers of the high lords. Thesan has healing powers, Hellion has golden-white healing powers and the ability to break through magical wards and enchantments."

Rowan nods, saying: "Healing powers also help rid a body of the Valg. Think of Valg like parasites, they can be healed."

I continue on: "Rhys is a daemati, he can manipulate darkness, he can fly, he can winnow, and he can mist. Basically, he can turn our enemies into mist."

Dorian gives a low whistle.

"Tamlin can shapeshift, Tarquin can manipulate water, Kallias can manipulate ice, and Feyre can do everything."

Elide asks: "What terms are you guys on? Any rivals, any allies?"

Surprised by the shrewdness of the question, I reply: "We're on decent terms with all of them except Beron and Tamlin. We have no need for Tamlin, but Beron would be pretty damn useful."

Aelin smiles at that, even whilst the rest of her court is frowning.

Aelin asks: "Beron's a jerk yeah, but why are you guys and Tamlin on bad terms?"

As quickly as possible, I explain everything.

Aelin seems unfazed, she just smirks and says: "Tamlin the Tool."

We burst into laughter, but Aelin's eyes are still thoughtful.

------------At the same time-------------

--Aedion--

I clear my throat and say: "So, Aela is your daughter."

Graviel nods and says hoarsely: "Listen Aedion, I'm sorry, I never meant to-"

"Nope!" I cut him off

I sigh and say "Listen, Aela never held Mom's death against you. Even though it's against my better judgement, if she wants to get to know you, then I'll stay out of the way. I just wanted to warn you, if you hurt her in anyways whatsoever, I'll get Aelin to melt your bones. And once you thoroughly burned I'll give everyone free reign to your body. Manon would want your blood, and I'm sure Lysandra would be glad too-"

"Ok, I get the picture. Thank you."

I nod curtly, but before heading out, I let the emotions bubble up a bit and say: "Mom did truly love you. I always thought one of the reasons why she never told me about you was to protect you. And I'm glad I never got the chance to kill you, because I'm happy you're alive."

I look back as I leave, and I swear I can see tears welling in his eyes.

------------Time skip to that evening------------

--Third Person P.O.V--

As Aelin gracefully sweeps down the stairs, Aedion snorts.

"Took you long enough."

She just laughs softly. She's wearing an elegant black dress and black heels. Her hair cascades down her back with a simple silver crown on her head. The crown has a few emeralds on it, matching her wedding ring. A silent homage to Terrasen. She has no jewellery, and no weapons except for Goldryn at her side.

Mor asks: "Would you like a thigh sheath to hide a dagger?"

She chuckles and lifts her skirt slightly. Her long, slender legs are covered in daggers. She smiles and pulls off her overcoat, where there are throwing knives attached.

Aela walks in, wearing a simple white dress.

She smiles at Aelin and walks forward to give her a hug.

"God! You're a living armoury. You look beautiful by the way. Simple, but gorgeous."

Aelin just teases: "Tell me something I don't know. Aela, I heard you like to drink blood."

Aela just grins and says: "How else could I keep those idiots from finding out about me? They were utterly terrified!"

The girls double over in laughter.

Rhysand clears his throat and tries for a smile: "Your boss is here you know."

Aela says: "About that, when Erawan is dead, I'm going back to Terrasen to serve my queen."

Aelin steps forward and says: "I'm sorry, but Aela needs to return to Erilea and claim her rightful place in my court. She's a lady of Terrasen, and deserves to be treated as so."

Cassian sputters: "But she has no land!"

Aedion intervenes and says: "Actually, we found a bit of unmarked land. We have claimed it for Terrasen, and it was going to go to Lys and me, but I would like my sister to have it."

Aela smiles at her brother.

"I'm sorry guys, but Terrasen is my home."

Rhysand nods and says: "We'll discuss this later. Right now, let's go to the meeting. We're going to be late."

They winnow to the Dawn court.

Aelin gasps: "It's beautiful."

When they reach the meeting room, Rhysand says: "Alright, let's go."

They all burst into the room. Everyone is there already, and they are all staring. Aelin flashes a ferocious grin.

They all take their seats and Rhysand says: "Everyone this is-"

"No need Rhysand." coos Aelin "I would much rather Beron introduces me."

Everyone turns to Beron, but he snarls and says: "Who the hell are you?"

Aelin chuckles, the sound low and amused.

She smirks and says: "Honestly Ber Ber, don't you remember me? Or has old age made you lose your memory?"

Beron pales and growls: "You."

Chapter Text

--Third Person P.O.V--

Beron lunges across the table to Aelin, but she places Goldryn at his neck before he comes within touchable distance. His guards point their blades at her, but she just whispers in his ear.

He barks: "Stand down!"

He growls and says: "Let go of me."

She just replies: "Swear it."

He looks at her blankly.

She sighs and says: "Gods you're just as stupid as ever aren't you? Swear that you won't hurt me, my court, the night court, the day court, the dawn court, the winter court, or the summer court. You can kill the spring court if you want. I'm not a big fan of Tamlin the tool or that b*tch fraud of a priestess Ianthe."

There are a few laughs at this, but Aelin's face remains deadly serious.

Beron swears it and she lets him go.

She beams and says: "There, that wasn't so hard, was it? Now, why don't you greet your old friend properly?"

He just snarls and says: "You b*tch."

The cadre growls and removes their swords from their sheaths.

Aelin says: "Such theatrics."

They still don't sheath their swords.

She says lightly: "Stand down."

They refuse to obey.

Her voice hardens and she says: "I said stand down. That is a direct order from your blood sworn queen*. I will not be pleased if I have to repeat myself. Is that clear?"

(*Note: Fenrys took the blood oath for helping Aelin in Maeve's clutches and Lorcan took the blood oath so that he would definitely be loyal to Aelin in the war. They took the oath a few hours earlier)

They sheath their swords and bow, murmuring: "Yes your majesty."

She turns to Beron and says: "Next time you call me that I won't bother restraining them."

She turns to the high lords and with a short bow, says: "My name is Queen Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius of Terrasen. But I would wager a guess that most of you know me as the Heir of Mala fire bringer."

Nearly all the high lords bow down at her.

Rhysand looks around and asks: "How do you guys know her?"

None of them speak, trembling as they stare at the floor.

Aelin smiles and says: "Helion darling, answer him."

With a shaking voice, Helion says: "Mala firebringer created this world. It is a secret passed from high lord to high lord, you and Tamlin wouldn't know as your fathers didn't get a chance to tell you. If this woman is who she says she is, she is the queen of this world, and we are her subjects."

Aelin says: "That is correct. Now, rise."

She saunters over to a chair, and with the help of the night court, they explain what happened to the unusually meek High Lords.

At one point, Tamlin called her a little girl, and in a few seconds, she had a blade at his neck and was whispering: "Please say that again. You have no idea how much I've been wanting to try out this blade."

No one disrespected her after that.

Until.........

Eris demands: "How do we know you are the heir of Mala firebringer?"

She just laughs and says: "My dear Eris. How you underestimate me."

With half a thought, she sets herself on fire. She waves an arm and a column of fire surrounds everyone from the autumn court.

As the flames flicker wildly against her black dress, she asks sweetly: "Would you like more proof?"

There is a mumbled no, but Aelin just says in a singsong voice: "I can't hear you!"

There is a louder: "NO!", and she smiles and removes the column.

"Right then," she says smilingly "That's enough for today. Thesan, why don't you get some quarters ready for us."

He nods hastily, calling a servant in. She suddenly raises a hand and beckons the servant forward. She runs towards him and tackles him. She snaps her fingers and Lorcan walks forward and restrains the man. Aelin picks up his gloved hands and tugs off the glove. On his finger is a black ring.

Oblivious to the staring High Lords, she asks: "What is your name?"

The man replies in a deep gravelly voice: "You human tongues cannot pronounce our names."

She just snorts and says: "Yes, I've heard that before. Elide, the ring please."

Elide darts forward and hands her a ring.

Holding up the ring up to the light, she looks at the man and says: "Athril's ring. It can rid a body of Valg. Imagine what would happen if I placed it on your finger."

The man, or rather Valg, starts struggling against Lorcan to no avail.

A human voice cries out: "It is an honour to serve His Darkness!"

She looks at the Valg distastefully and says: "Alright, I've had enough. Lorcan do you want it or..."

Lorcan smoothly replies: "I would love to, but perhaps you ought to give them a display of your unique talents."

She grins, the look sending chills down Rhysand's spine.

She looks at him, pleased, and says: "I knew there was a reason I kept you around."

Using her bare hands, she rips the Valg's head off his shoulders.

Everyone flinches, but Aelin merely looks down at her clothes and says: "Damn it! I was trying so hard to not get any blood on this."

She turns to Thesan and says: "Is there someplace I might discuss privately with my court?"

Thesan nods and replies: "Yes, of course, your majesty."

She smiles at him and says: "Just call me Aelin. Thank you."

He gestures at a servant to lead the way.

As she's heading out, Tamlin sneers at Rhysand: "You gonna be her whore too?"

Aelin freezes. She circles back, motioning her court to stay put.

She smiles sweetly at Tamlin and says: "Repeat that please."

Ianthe simpers: "He was just asking Rhysand if he was going to be your whore. It was merely a curious question Aelin, based on Rhysand's history. Please don't punish us!"

She chuckles and says: "Oh, of course, I won't! The answer to that question, by the way, is no, as Rhys here, is my brother! I might not care much for rules, but I will not commit incest. As my brother, he rules over you two. Also, Ianthe, you and that tool shall address me as her majesty. Only those who are better than pieces of shit can call me Aelin."

She turns to the door, but before she leaves, she turns to Rhysand, a mischievous gleam in her eye: "Brother dear, feel free to bestow any fitting punishment. After that, come join me and my court. Aela, my dear cousin, come. We have much to catch up on. "

Amren gets up, stifling her laughter at the perplexed faces of the high lords.

She turns to them and says: "You all know me as Amren. My real name is Aela Ashryver, Lady of Terrasen, more specifically, Lady of the Isle of Stars, which by the way, Aelin, is what I want my land to be called."

Aelin says: "Of course. Now, let us go have a chat."

She offers an arm to Aela, and as the two women glide away, Terrasen's court at their heels, crowns of fire flicker to life on their heads.

Chapter Text

--Rowan--

Head down, I sigh as I follow Aelin and Aela. I know that what happened back there wasn't really a mask. Celaena Sardothein was just another part of her, a part that I know she sorely missed. She missed not having a care in the world, she missed the crazy, fearless assassin. She'll never admit it now, but I know the words she said to me in Mistward rang true.

'The crown ... my crown is just another set of shackles.'

So true, yet so not. The crown gave her many things, but it also took so much. Sure, it gave her a court, a kingdom. But it took her freedom, her wild side.

I look up and admire the gorgeous crowns on their heads, so similar to the ones that used to crown me and Aelin's. But yet so different. Ours were strong and had a variety of reds and oranges, whilst theirs were gentle, blue and playful. We reach a sitting room and Aelin nods her head at the servant, in thanks and a silent dismissal.

We sprawl on the comfy couches, but before I can speak, Aela says: "Put up a shield of hardened air. Or fire. Eavesdroppers are more common than you might think."

Aelin puts up a shield of fire and smirks in my direction, a silent challenge. I grin and place a secondary shield of air.

Aedion grumbles: "It would be really nice to be included in these plans you know."

Aelin croons: "But your faces are so wonderful when I reveal them. You looked like goldfishes."

I snarl half-heartedly.

She continues: "And anyway if you guys paid more attention, you would have caught on. I didn't have much time to plan, it was all very messy. I wasn't exactly being subtle either."

Aela just laughs and smiles at Aelin delightedly.

She says: "How did you find out that Mala created this world?"

Aelin just shrugs and replies: "When I came, my fire felt more..... alive. It seemed like I was in sync with this world. I asked to learn about the high lords to find out more. I did some research after that and took a wild guess during the meeting. It was a stroke of luck that I knew Beron."

Upon seeing our faces, she giggles like a child.

She smirks and says: "Before you guys ask whatever you want to, let's let them in."

She points to her left, and sure enough, Rhysand and the night court is standing there, examining the shield. Simultaneously, Aelin and I let down a small portion of the shield.

They all rush in, and we close the shield behind them before talking.

Mor runs and hugs Aelin, squealing: "It worked!"

Aelin smiles and says: "I told you, my plans are flawless."

The two women break apart, and Lysandra asks: "You knew?"

Mor snorts: "She hasn't exactly been subtle."

Aelin just laughs and says: "What did I tell you? Their faces. Hilarious right?"

Mor agrees and replies: "It's the most emotion I've ever seen Az show."

At Azriel's scowl, she amends: "Until right now."

The two of them send innocent smiles at Azriel before bursting into fits of laughter.

Everybody is glaring at them now, and before they get maimed, I say: "Sit. Explain. Why did you tell Mor?"

She replies easily: "Because she's the only one who was smart enough to catch on."

I sigh and say: "Right. I've had enough. Rhys, take over."

He obliges and says: "How did you know that Mala created this world? It's supposed to be a High Lord secret! Also, how do you know Beron? What did you tell him that caused his guards to stand down? Also, they want you to properly introduce your court."

His expression changes, gratefulness shadowing his features.

He says quietly: "And um, thanks for dealing with Tamlin. I couldn't have handled it. Not after...."

Feyre. He trails off, swallowing tightly.

She shoots him a gentle smile and says in an unusually soft tone: "No problem."

Her tone turning cocky, she says: "You and my court are very like-minded. They also questioned me about Mala. But anyways, quick recap, I had some suspicions, so I did some research, and I took a wild guess."

A few snorts. Cassian just chuckles, shaking his head disbelievingly.

She continues brightly: "As for Beron," she gives a small smirk "let's just say we had a friendly encounter when I was the King's Champion."

Dorian says: "Wonderful, but it still doesn't explain why he tried to kill you."

She smiles and replies: "A whole bunch of stuff happened, but he was basically a magic wielder and the king sent me to kill him. I helped him fake his death, but before doing so I noticed some rather unsatisfactory things about him."

Her lip curls in disgust.

"He kept slaves. So before quote-unquote killing him, I took it upon myself to free his slaves. He was very pissed and tried to kill me. And he turned even more pissed when I told him to flee and that I would fake his death. So I did some digging around. Found out his top lieutenant was a rapist and used him to show Beron exactly what would happen if he didn't run. So he came to Prythian, owing me a life debt."

All of us fall silent. Her eyes are vicious from reliving the memory. Even Manon and Lorcan look wary. Elide attempts a weak smile, but it falters.

Hesitantly, Aedion asks: "What did you say to Beron?"

She turns to him, her eyes terrifying.

He visibly gulps, and she replies: "I just reminded him what happened to his lieutenant."

Her voice is as sharp as any dagger, but still, Cassian asks: "What exactly happened to his lieutenant?"

She smiles and says: "Beron, despite my warnings hosted a ball, inviting many Adarlan nobles. His lieutenant was there, drinking, having fun. Having so much fun that he didn't realise the blonde-haired girl he pushed into a closet was armed to the teeth. A few moments later, the power was cut. Not a minute later, the power returned, and right there, hanging from the chandeliers, was his top lieutenant. Skinned alive and hanging from his guts."

"Good."

I glance at Mor in surprise.

She grits her teeth and repeats in a hard voice: "Good. At least now they know not to touch a woman without permission."

Aelin gives a grim nod, the anger gone from her eyes, replaced by worry and sorrow.

She gives us all a small smile and says: "If that's all we'll put down the shields. The High Lords outside are very intrigued by our little story."

She points behind me, and I turn and see the High Lords staring interestedly at us. When Aelin gives them a little wave however, they look away hastily.

She smirks and says: "Let's properly introduce ourselves."

I lower the shields and I wait for her to do the same.

She just smiles and calls out: "High Lords, High Ladies! Why don't you guys come in?"

The wall of flame is paper-thin, thin enough for them to hear her, but not thick enough for them to pass without getting hurt. They stare at her like she's crazy, but she just smiles.

A look of understanding flashes across Thesan's face and he slowly walks through the flames. It hits me. She took the heat away! The amount of control she had was amazing, but it made sense, given the fact that as she said earlier, she was more in sync with this world.

She nods in approval to Thesan and points at a seat. He sits down, and murmurs spread among the lords. One by one, they walk in, gasping in admiration and awe.

Tamlin just says with an unimpressed look: "So your flames don't actually burn. What a useless gift."

He sticks his hand into the flame with a snort, and I can see rage flashing across her eyes.

I silently beg ~Please, don't -~

Suddenly, there is a yelp.

~Yup, you already did it. Wonderful.~

Tamlin's hand is charred and he's howling in pain.

Aelin just sighs and says: "Don't be a baby. It's nothing more than a singe. The flames don't burn because I don't want them to. Test me again, and I'll actually punish you."

Ianthe simpers: "Aelin - "

Aedion snarls: "You will address her as Your Majesty."

Ianthe continues: "Sorry. Your Majesty, pray tell, what were you talking about?"

She fluttered her eyelashes.

Lysandra growls and says: "None of your business."

Aelin says: "Agreed. I called for the High Lords and Ladies, what are you doing here?"

Ianthe replies: "Why I am a High Lady! Tamlin and I wed, and as his wife, I'm High Lady, isn't that right Tamlin sweetheart?"

Everyone recoils at that.

Tamlin just gives her a sultry smile and says in a disgustingly sweet voice: "Of course my love."

Aelin snorts and says: "Really? Ianthe, Tamlin the tool looks like a sweetheart to you? And Tamlin, that slut priestess looks like someone you would call 'my love'? Gods, I would love to see what you guys call the Valg! They're angels compared to you idiots."

She burst into laughter while everyone follows suit. Tamlin snarls but Ianthe just turns red.

Aelin is wiping tears from her eyes as she says: "By the way Ianthe, you aren't a high lady. One, you're not smart enough to be one. Two, you're too ugly to be one. Three, high ladies can't be whores. Four, high ladies can't be frauds."

She stops her listing and says: "Would you like me to continue? If so, by all means, stay and I'll carry on with pointing all your flaws in a very unflattering way. Oh, here's an example. Five,-"

"Ok, ok, I get it!" Ianthe springs up from her seat, tears in her eyes.

She sniffles delicately and Tamlin rises, an arm around her.

He says quietly: "Ianthe darling, don't cry. Sweetie, you're still a High Lady, she can't take that away from you."

Thesan speaks up cheekily: "Actually, she can. As our queen, she can strip us of any or all titles."

Aelin beams at him and says: "You know, I like you."

He grins and says: "The feeling is mutual, queen."

Tamlin growls and hugs Ianthe tighter.

He says: "This is enough! I will not stand by and watch you hurl insults at me and my beloved wife!"

Aelin just snorts and says: "Well, then don't. Leave. No one's stopping you. You're the weakest of the High Lords, you're probably not even powerful enough to be one. Hell, I bet Lys is stronger than you. Scratch that, I bet Elide is. No, you know what, Elide is definitely stronger than you."

Tamlin is shaking with rage now, but before he can do anything, Aelin says lightly: "I hereby strip Tamlin and Ianthe of all their titles and powers."

Tamlin growls, but it's too late. He and Ianthe are ordinary Fae. No special powers. Grinning from ear to ear, Thesan sends sentries to escort him out.

Aelin nods and says: "Lucien! Could you please explain to the Spring Court this change in leadership? Ask them to vote for a new High Lord or Lady, someone they deem worthy. In a few weeks, please ask them to come to me, and I'll bestow the powers onto him or her. Assuming the High Lords are ok with this?"

She glances around at them, they seem shocked to have been taken into consideration. With the exception of Beron, they all agree readily, and Lucien heads off.

We all recline in our seats, and Aelin begins the introductions: "It has come to my attention I never properly introduced my court, so here. My husband and mate, King-consort Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius. Aedion Ashryver, my cousin and second in command. Lysandra, my third in command, Lady of Caraverre. Elide Lochan, Lady of Perranth. And the cadre."

Fenrys hisses: "Seriously? I was with you for two months and still, you refuse to introduce us properly. You-"

"Alright, alright, introduce yourselves then."

Pointing at Manon and Dorian, she says: "I assume you two want to introduce yourselves too"

They nod, but Dorian gestures at the Cadre to go first.

Fenrys smiles and says: "Fenrys Moonbeam, blood sworn warrior to Her Majesty the Queen."

"Graviel, warrior to Her Majesty the Queen."

"Lorcan Salvaterre, most powerful Demi Fae, blood sworn warrior to Her Majesty the Queen."

Manon says: "Manon Crochan Blackbeak, queen of witches."

"Dorian Havilliard, King of Adarlan.

Tarquin asks: "Powers?"

Aelin replies: "I have fire, Rowan has ice and wind, Lysandra is a shapeshifter, Fenrys can winnow, Elide is blessed by Annieth, Goddess of wisdom, Lorcan has the powers of Hellas, the death god, Dorian has raw magic, and Manon's powers are her usual terrifying personality. And her iron teeth and nails."

On cue, the iron teeth and nails come out, and the High Lords all recoil in shock and fear.

Kallias questions: "Raw magic?"

Dorian replies: "It basically means that I have all types of magic. I can shapeshift, use wind, ice, fire, anything really. It's not as strong as Aelin's, but I have a considerable amount."

The High Lords and Ladies are staring at Dorian now, newfound awe and respect in their eyes.

Aelin claps her hands and says: "As much as I know you all are enjoying ogling Dorian, I would like to take a rest. Thesan, if you could please arrange some quarters for us?"

Thesan agrees but asks: "Aelin, not to be rude, but before we head to our rooms, is there anything from your discussion that we ought to know?"

If anyone else had asked this I was pretty sure Aelin would have burned them alive.

But Thesan has a tone of respectfulness, so Aelin replies calmly: "No, not much. We were just discussing what happened to Beron's top lieutenant. A story that I recently reminded him of."

She flashes Beron a smile, and I mentally facepalm. We were so close to finishing this conversation in a civil manner.

Intrigued, Helion asks: "What exactly happened to his lieutenant?"

Aelin sighs and says: "Why do you guys keep asking me the same questions? I don't think I'm up to answering."

She smiles slyly and says: "But I'm sure Beron here would love to tell you all about it. Speak up Beron."

He shouts: "She skinned him alive and hung him onto a chandelier by his guts! During a ball! My guests were mortified!"

Aelin just lets out a feminine giggle and says happily: "Wonderful! If you would like the full story I'm sure my court would love to provide you with sufficient details. And if you're interested in how, exactly I did it in under a minute I would be more than thrilled to give you a demonstration if we happen to encounter Tamlin or Ianthe. But right now, I'm exhausted."

She gracefully rises and follows a servant to the rooms.

I smile at the stunned high lords and say: "Don't mess with her. In her hands, death would be a mercy."

I turn to see her standing at the doorway, a delighted smile dancing on her lips at my implied threat. I sweep towards her and taking her arm, we follow the servant, leaving behind a smirking court and a whole bunch of petrified High Lords.

Chapter Text

--Rhysand---

I smile as I look around at the petrified high lords. It was hilarious to see these all-mighty hundreds of years old fae being practically flayed alive by a nineteen-year-old girl. A nineteen-year-old girl, I remember with no small amount of pride, who was my sister. I glance at Amren, and sure enough, her eyes show nothing but pride for Aelin.

I say brightly: "All right then, my court and I shall head to our quarters."

Terrasen's court also makes to get up, but Kallias asks: "What did she do to his top lieutenant?"

Her court exhales a sharp breath. I see them glance uneasily at each other, wondering how much to reveal.

Eventually, Aedion simply gives a version of what she said, cutting out a few details: "She found out he was a rapist. My queen doesn't care much for them. She waited until a ball, until he got drunk, then caught his attention. He pushed her into a closet, not realising she was heavily armed. A few moments later the power went out, and not a minute later it returned. But when the light came back, the only thing they saw was Beron's top lieutenant skinned alive and hanging from a chandelier.

Without another word, they get up and briskly walk-off, Elide subtly giggling at the high lords and lady's shocked faces.

I smile politely at them before walking out with my court. Mor and Amren are laughing their heads off, and I feel a pit in my stomach as I remember what Amren said earlier. Throughout the years, I had grown to care deeply for her, and I had loved her sarcastic, terrifying personality. Yet it wasn't real. It was just to stop us from finding out more about her. I would like to think that her kind, loving personality would've come out even if Aelin didn't come, but I know she probably would never have trusted us enough.

When we reach the rooms we make to split up, but I ask them to come to my room once they've rested. They agree, and I head into my room. The bed was large. Far too large. It was like the universe was screaming at me 'You lost your mate! It's all your fault!'

I get why Aelin put up the act. It was easier than showing yourself in all your vulnerability. She had it up for the sake of her court, I had it up for mine. I glance at the clock, they would probably sleep for another hour or so, maybe it was time to pay my sister a visit.

--Aelin--

I glance at Rowan slumbering peacefully beside me. I know he was exhausted, and so was I, but I couldn't help thinking about the poem. 'Darkness shall reign and forever remain.'

"Unless the books are combined, where the answers are yours to find."

I look at Rowan in surprise.

He gives me a wry smile and says: "Stop thinking about it. Right now, let's help Rhys get Feyre back. She's a turning point in the war. If she's on our side, we'll win."

I sigh and say: "But what if the sacrifice is to get Feyre back?"

"Then we'll find another way."

I spin to find Rhys leaning against the doorway. I smile and beckon him in.

He sits on the bed and says: "I want Feyre back more than anyone. But I meant what I said Ae. I lost you for 15 years and you're crazy if I think I'll let you sacrifice yourself."

I say: "Fine. But let's try to figure out what these books are."

Rhysand replies: "We'll have another High Lord meeting tomorrow. We'll discuss it then. I was actually hoping I could talk to you in private."

I raise my eyebrows at that. He's looking at Rowan nervously, and I remember what happened the last time we were alone together.

I reply with a forced lightness: "Sure. Let's go to your room."

I give Rowan a reassuring smile before walking off with Rhysand.

--Rhysand--

I didn't actually think Aelin would be so ok with sacrificing herself. I thought that she was maybe saying it to reassure her court.

I watch as Aelin tensely perches on the edge of the bed. She doesn't say anything, she just stares at me mutely.

I clear my throat and say: "How are you?"

She frowns at me and replies: "I ought to be asking you that. But, I'm fine. I want to know about you. You hold up a decent mask. Everyone believed you. Except me."

I ask her softly: "Don't you do the same?"

She glances at me, and for a brief moment, I can see a glimpse of emotion in her eyes. Sorrow, guilt, worry.

In a gentle voice, I say: "Ae. You're nineteen. No one expects you to hold so many burdens. I'm your brother. I want to carry these burdens with you, and I can't do that unless you share them with me."

Her voice wobbly, she says: "Rhysie. You just lost your mate. You have your burdens too. I can't add so much more to the weight."

"I don't hold the weight of worlds on my shoulders. You do. You lost your mate too. You lost your court, your family. No one had ever been through what you have, and no one is stronger than you."

She looks up at me and whispers: "If I share, you have to too."

I nod.

"I can't do it. Everyone looks at me like I just dropped from Heaven. They think I'm going to be their saviour, that I'm going to lead them all to victory. But what if I don't? What if I make the wrong choices and fail everyone I love? Did you know I was close, so close to breaking? When I used the Wyrdmarks to escape, I messed up a symbol. I wasn't trying to portal out. I was trying to kill myself.

And the whole time, a twisted part of me was silently hoping, wishing, that Dorian would replace me. I hoped that he would take my place and forge the lock."

She looks at me, self-loathing in her eyes, and continues: "What sort of person does that make me? I was willing to let another sacrifice their life for me. I was so selfish, I was a coward, an idiot!"

She starts crying in earnest now, and I say quietly: "It was all my fault. If I had just taken better care of her I could have saved her. But I didn't. I failed my mate. It doesn't matter what I've done for her in the past. I failed her now, and that's all that matters."

I start breaking down in sobs, and eventually, we're both just clinging to each other and sobbing, tears falling on shoulders.

--Mor--

Laughing about the High Lords, we make our way to Rhys's room. At the door, we see Aelin slip out. She looks at us, her eyes tired. Without saying a word, she heads back in.

She comes back and says: "Give him a minute."

We blink in confusion, but she's already darting off. A while later, Rhys comes out. He swings the door open, not saying a word.

His eyes are red, and his shoulder is strangely wet.

I ask: "What were you and Aelin doing here?"

He ignores me and says: "I called you guys here to discuss Amren leaving."

Amren says: "Aela. My name is Aela."

He says: "Sorry. I just wanted to tell you that I'm really going to miss you. And I wanted to thank you. For everything you've done, for me and for Feyre.

--Aela--

I glance at Rhys in shock. He just said Feyre's name!

Concealing my shock, I nod and say: "I'm sorry we didn't become closer. You knew me, just not the true me. And I'll miss you guys too."

Cassian gasps: "Did I just hear the oh-so scary Amren admit to missing us?"

I shove him and say: "Idiot."

Before he can retaliate, a knock suddenly sounds. We all whirl to the door, and Fenrys is standing there.

He bows and says: "Lady Ashryver. Gavriel and Lord Ashryver are requesting your presence."

I splutter: "Aedion?"

He nods and says: "Yes miss."

I stare, unsure at this strangely formal behaviour. At that moment, Fenrys howls.

He cackles and says: "Oh your face! Priceless. As if I would ever speak that way. So pompous. Don't worry, you'll never have to talk to anyone like that too. Aelin will curse as much as she likes, just act like yourself and they'll think you're an angel."

Behind me, Cassian snorts and says: "I wish I could swear as much as I wanted"

I grin and say: "Let's go."

Fenrys leads me to Aedion's room.

He beams at me and says: "I'll go tell the queen the news. You'll be a great addition to our court Aela."

I smile in reply. I knock and go in. Gavriel and Aedion are sitting down. Aedion is tense, whilst Gavriel looks nervous.

"Yes?" I question

Gavriel motions for me to sit.

He clears his throat and says quietly: "I am your father."

I look at Aedion in shock. He nods in confirmation.

I awkwardly say: "So. You're my dad."

He nods, his eyes pleading me to say something.

So I continue: "You left my mom."

He blinks. Not the reaction he was expecting then.

I close my eyes tightly and say: "Are you in my Queen's court?"

He answers uncertainly: "Yes."

"Bloodsworn?"

"No."

I nod and say: "Okay."

I look up at him and say: "You made my mom happy. She loved you and she believed you loved her."

He says hoarsely: "I did."

My face softens at that statement, and I continue: "You serve my Queen with loyalty, even though you aren't blood sworn to her. From what I can gather, you are a decent male, and that is more than I could have hoped for in an unknown father. I am not sure if I want to accept this relationship between us, but I want to get to know you before I make a judgement. Please allow me time to figure this out."

A low whistle comes from behind. Aelin is standing there, an impressed look on her face.

She says: "You really are the opposite of Aedion. Smart, cool, calculating."

She smiles at me, her eyes filled with pride.

I grin at the praise, but I will my face to harden as I turn back to Graviel.

"Are you okay with the terms?"

He nods mutely.

I beam.

"Perfect! I'll see you around."

Chapter Text

--Aelin--

I can't believe it. Aela........ was wonderful. She was perfect, exactly as I remembered. Smart, loving, and a hell of a fighter from what I've been told. Having her join my court would be amazing.

Leading her out the door, I say: "I meant what I said you know. You were wonderful there."

She blushed and says: "Was I? I mean sure, it's a good tactic for politics, but it might have been a tad too cold."

I give her a comforting smile and say: "Well, he deserves it. And anyway, what you said was perfectly fair. It was actually really nice that you thought it through and didn't just reject him."

She returns my smile and walks quietly next to me.

Suddenly, she asks: "Where's Aedion? And Rowan?"

I laugh at her alarmed tone and say: "They're having a chat with the night court. The two of us are going to go get dressed up and scare the shit of everyone."

She chuckles, the sound so familiar that it brings me right back.

~Flashback~

Aela twirls elegantly around the room. I follow suit, spinning gracefully next to her, the music guiding our movements. Suddenly, the music stops. Aela freezes, but I bang into her, causing us both to fall to the ground. We laugh and Mom comes forward and lifts us both up, sighing.

Aedion sprints in, shouting triumphantly: "I'm done with practice!"

Then he looks at us. Our hair in buns, our dresses, Mom glaring at him and hastily mumbles apologies.

I turn to Mom and beg: "Can I go? Please? Aedion said he would teach me swordplay."

She sighs delicately and says: "Sweetheart, swordplay isn't for princesses."

Aela chirps in: "But wouldn't it be useful for Aelin to know how to defend herself?"

I send her a grateful smile and Mom says: "Aedion! Come here."

She points to the floor and says: "If you can waltz with Aedion for ten seconds perfectly I'll let you go."

I frown and say: "But he's all gross and sweaty."

Mom finally relents and says: "Fine. But you have to try harder next class, alright?"

I agree and sprint off, Aedion and Aela following. We spend an hour fighting, laughing, and talking.

~~~

A voice comes: "Aelin? Aelin?"

I blink and see Aela looking at me, concern on her face. I smile and say: "Sorry. Just zoned out a bit."

She nods uncertainly and follows me into the room.

I dig around the closets and pull out a gorgeous dress. It's white, with a few accents of blue. It looks stunning, and I turn to find Aela looking at me worriedly.

I plaster a smile on my face and say: "What are you going to wear?"

She shrugs, points to her tunic, and says: "Just this."

I cry out: "Oh, no you aren't."

I toss her the white dress and say: "You'll look great with that."

I continue searching the closets and I pull out a shimmery red dress. It has a few folds of gold, and it looks like a flame.

Aela beams and says: "You'll look amazing in that."

I grin and say: "Like a fire breathing b*tch queen."

--Rowan--

I send an amused glance to the High Lords. They're all staring at the door nervously, waiting for Aelin. Everyone else is here except for her, even Aela. Everyone in our court looks wonderful, and I know for a fact that it was because Aelin had personally told them to 'dress the hell up or else she would scoop out their eyeballs.

After a while, Aelin finally walks in. My jaw drops, she looks stunning, and she's mine. Well, not mine. I'd hate to see the man that tries to own that queen. She looks like a literal flame, her dress accentuating her curves.

I frown. She usually wears more flowy dresses, but knowing Aelin, she had her reasons. This tight dress would be easier to move in, to fight in, to jump in. Oh gods, she went rooftop jumping, didn't she?

With that insufferable swagger, she sits down in a chair, smiling menacingly at each of them.

Lucien is the first to speak, he says: "Um, Aelin, the Spring court has chosen a new High Lord."

She nods and asks: "Do they like the new idea?"

He replies nervously: "Yes. Not many of them liked Tamlin, but they feared he would be replaced by someone worse. So yes, they're very happy about the new idea. They have chosen a man who they think is worthy."

"Did anyone vote for any women?"

"Yes, quite a few."

Aelin beams at this and says: "Good. What do you think of the man Lucien?"

He blinks in surprise but says: "He is a good man. I think he will lead them very well."

She smiles, pleased, and says: "Splendid. Thank you, Lucien."

She turns to Thesan and says smilingly: "I took a little trip to your city."

Knowing Aelin, that smile was as likely fake as it was real.

Thesan picked up on it and says nervously: "And?"

Her mouth breaks into the wider, more pleasant smile of a queen and says: "It was amazing. You're a great ruler, and the citizens love you. You've done a wonderful job. I went to one of the villages, it was beautiful. The red, odd-patterned roofs, the sparkling streams, absolutely fantastic."

He smiles at the unexpected praise and says: "How did you notice the strange pattern of the red roofs?"

She tosses him a grin, back to the assassin, and says: "I was jumping around the top of the buildings. Pretty hard not to notice."

He frowns and says: "The gaps between them are huge. You must be mistaken."

She snorts and says: "I'm not. They are pretty big though, I nearly scraped my knee."

She shrugs and starts eating.

The rest of the High Lords stare at her blankly.

Eventually, she sighs and says: "Look, if you don't believe me I'll show you right now. Just stop staring at me like a stalker."

She kicks the chair backwards and runs to a window, jumping off.

There are a few screams, but what they see silences them. She's grinning like a maniac, leaping from roof to roof, her long dress glinting in the moonlight. She laughs, the sound high and pure, and after a while, she comes back.

For the first time since I've seen her here, she looks alive. Her cheeks are flushed with colour, and on her lips dances a wicked grin. Her eyes are filled with joy, sparkling brightly.

Her court notices her change too. They all look happy, but their eyes betray them, showing worry.

She smiles brightly at us and says: "All that jumping made me lose my appetite. I think I'll head to the room now. Can we have another meeting tomorrow morning after breakfast? I would like to discuss the prophecy."

I snort. There was no way in hell these people were going to contradict her. Not if they valued certain parts of their body. Unsurprisingly, they agreed.

As she turned to leave, Beron called out: "I would like to spar with you tomorrow morning. No magic. To avenge my lieutenant."

A wicked smile spreads across her face.

She cocks her head to the side, the movement purely feline, and purrs: "Why of course. 8 o'clock. The invitation extends to everyone else."

Chapter Text

--Third Person P.O.V--

Beron growls, the sound low and deadly.

"You will pay." he hisses

Aelin chuckles lightly and raises a brow tauntingly. He lunges towards her, and she sidesteps easily, a mischievous twinkle lighting up her eyes.

The High Lords watch in amusement and fear as Beron attempts to decapitate her. Giggling like a child, she flips him off. The High Lords try to reign in their laughter, but Aelin's court has no such qualms. They laugh uproariously, doubling over in laughter.

Rowan isn't fazed at the prospect of his mate taking on a pissed High Lord, he merely reclines in a chair, sipping on a glass of juice, his lips tugged upwards, feeling entertained.

Beron is furiously trying to maim her, but she keeps darting away with annoying ease. After a while, her face turns bored. Her eyes light up as she suddenly leaps gracefully towards Beron. Her movements as precise as a ballerina, she lands blow after blow on Beron. She retreats, her posture cocky.

He bares his teeth and runs towards her, whipping out a knife. She meets him head-on, disarming him. She laughs, the sound echoing around the wind. She starts engaging him in combat, and in a few controlled moves, she has him on the floor. She picks up his knife and skillfully places it at his throat.

He croaks out: "I yield."

She grins and jumps out of the ring. The High Lords sigh, it wasn't as interesting as they had hoped.

She read their faces and says: "If you wanted a more interesting match, you should have given me a better opponent. Beron was nothing more than a warm-up."

At this, Beron turns bright red.

Aela says: "Well then, shall we see the true might of Her Majesty?"

Aelin's eyes light up with pleasure and she drawls: "We shall. Conditions?"

"One weapon each, no magic. There's no use destroying this place."

The smile that exchanges between them cause a few to shiver, and Rowan leans forward in his seat, interested. The two women leap into the ring, landing without a sound.

They angle their swords with expert precision, and Thesan calls out nervously: "BEGIN!"

They run forward simultaneously and meet in a hurricane of fists and metal. They move as fast as light, their movements a blur. Everyone's eyes move furiously as they try to keep up with the fight. Suddenly, they break apart. Aela's hand has a nasty gash. Aelin grins and charges forward once more. She twists and kicks Aela in the gut, sending her flying. Aela yelps in pain, but lands on her feet. She moves into a defensive position, but Aelin slowly circles her. Eventually, Aela attempts to disarm Aelin.

Her first and last mistake. Aelin neatly knocks the blade from her weakened hand. She points her sword at Aela's neck, and she yields, knowing Aelin's other hand would be there to knock her out if she so much as twitched.

Aelin releases her and pats her on the back, saying: "That was really good!"

Aela admits reluctantly: "You're a lot better than I thought."

Aelin nods thoughtfully and says: "When we return to Terrasen I want you training with Fenrys. You'll hold your own against him, and he'll learn a move or two from you too."

Aela agrees and Fenrys comes bounding up, snuggling next to her.

They head into the dining room, where the rest of Aelin's court is already there. They start drowning the waffles with syrup, stuffing their mouths with food. Some light chatter is exchanged, though most of them are still wary of Aelin's court.

There is a noticeable absence at a spot on the table, Beron had fled after his embarrassing defeat. A few giggles and mutters are exchanged, but other than that, breakfast went off without a hitch.

----High Lord Meeting----

After sending Rowan off to do some reconnaissance, Aelin sighs and says: "Today, we have come to discuss how to stop the Dark from reigning. I suppose you have all thought on it?"

Kallias quips: "Unless the books are combined, where the answers are yours to find. This will be the sacrifice, Nameless is the price."

She gives a weak smile and says: "I'll take that as a yes. We have suspicions on who Nameless is, but it doesn't matter until we find and combine the books. Aela, what did you find out about the books?"

Aela replies: "I couldn't find much, but I think that it's probably a powerful book from each of our worlds. In Prythian, that would be the Book of Breathings."

Aedion snorts disbelievingly: "Of Breathings? What, is it alive or something?"

Aelin whacks his head and says: "I apologize for his blatant stupidity. In Erilea, it would be The Walking Dead. I could try to open a portal home, but I would need some books on Wyrdmarks."

Aela thinks on it for a moment and offers: "I might have a few."

Rhysand adds: "The library in Velaris would probably have some."

Aelin gives a pleasant smile and says: "Good. I'll probably have it done in about a week, and once Aela finds some answers, we'll have a high lord meeting to discuss them."

Aela says: "It should take me at the most two weeks, but that might change."

Hellion says: "Nameless is the price."

Noticing the flinches that Aelin's court displays, he asks: "Could you please share your suspicions on the identity of Nameless just so we are all on the same page?"

Aela exhales heavily and says: "We think it might be either Aelin or Feyre."

Thesan frowns and demands: "The reasoning?"

Aela replies cooly: "Aelin bears the mark of Brannon, her ancestor, the mark of the nameless. Feyre hasn't gained the respect of Prythian, she hasn't made a name for herself. She is also nameless."

Hellion muses: "But which is Nameless?"

Tarquin says flatly: "Isn't it obvious? If our suspicions are correct Erawan has possessed Feyre. We kill Feyre, we kill Erawan. We kill Erawan, we win this War. What is the use of sacrificing our queen?"

Murmurs of agreement echo throughout the room.

Rhysand growls and says: "NO! She is my mate! I am not letting you kill her!"

Aelin says: "Nor am I. If you truly respected me as your queen you would follow my orders. And I order you to not touch Feyre, Erawan possessing her or not."

No one meets her gaze. Rowan flies in and lands next to her, shifting in a flash. His face is furious, clearly having heard Tarquin's suggestion.

As he glares at them all she hisses: "Is this clear or not?"

The high lords mumble their agreement.

Rowan says grimly: "Good. Because an army of 5000 Valg is heading for the Dawn court right now. And leading them is Erawan."

Rowan hesitates then adds: "Along with Maeve."

Chapter Text

--Third Person P.O.V--

Rhysand starts shaking, whispering: "Feyre."

He crumples to the floor in a heap. Aelin is immediately there by his side.

She says softly: "We won't hurt her. But we will kill that goddamn army. We will kill Erawan for all he has done. But to kill them we need you. Please, Rhys. I can't face her on my own. I need you with me to kill her. To kill Maeve."

Rhysand looks up at Aelin, her eyes are filled with love and fear. She gets up and extends a slender hand towards him. He hesitantly grabs it. She smiles and Aela envelops him in a reassuring hug. Aelin turns to her court, her face expressionless, and issues a single command.

"Plan it."

Rowan nods quickly and turns to the High Lords. Aelin sits down on a chair, closing her eyes.

After the planning is done, Tarquin turns to Aelin.

"Uh, Aelin?"

Her eyes snap open. There is nothing remotely mortal in her face, and Tarquin takes a step back in fear. She blinks and her features soften, the fire gone from her eyes.

She asks: "What's the plan?"

Rowan replies: "You take the first shot. Scatter the Valg. We'll pick off the rest. For Feyre, we have to capture her. Minimal injuries, please. As for Maeve, we'll have to take her together. Wait until most of the Valg is gone before approaching. Wait until they're closer before taking the shot."

Aelin nods in reply. Next to her, Aela is furiously flipping through a book. Aelin places a gentle hand on her cousin's shoulder, and Aela looks up.

"What does this say?" She demands

Aelin frowns before replying: "Sought book. Place of books. Place of uh star and light"

Aela beams and says: "That's it! The sought book is the Walking dead, the place of books is a library and the place of star and light is Velaris! The Walking Dead is in the library of Velaris. One of us has to go now. They're attacking way faster than expected."

Kallias says: "Isn't the walking dead supposed to be in Erilea?"

Aelin chuckles and says: "Perhaps, but it has always shown up in the most unexpected of places. The only question is who should go?"

Elide pipes up: "I could go. I wouldn't be much use on the battlefield, with my leg and all."

They all agree, and Rhysand winnows away with Elide, returning shortly.

At the front of the palace, Rowan gently squeezes her hand. Aelin has turned deathly pale.

She raises her shaking hands and pours her magic into the world. The high lords look on in astonishment.

Hellion falls to his knees and whispers: "The true might of Mala-fire bringer."

The Valg fall, and where the white-hot flames don't burn them, Rowan's icy magic freezes them. The two of them stand tall together, the Heir of Fire and the Prince of Wind and Ice.

Dorian helps from his position next to Rowan, determination etched on his features.

Eventually, when the Valg forces have been extinguished, Maeve saunters up, Erawan at her side. Erawan lifts his hand, and the seven elements appear, darting around everyone.

Erawan drawls to Rhysand: "You poor, poor, thing. It's so tough to be away from your mate. Rowan would know, wouldn't he?"

Rowan snarls but doesn't make a move.

In Feyre's voice, Erawan says: "Rhys. Come with me. I'm your mate. You love me. Aelin is lying to you. She's nothing more than a liar. I found out that she's the one who killed your real mother and sister. Rhys darling, please, help me."

Erawan/Feyre extends a hand, so similar to Aelin's. Aelin turns Rhys so he's looking at her.

She shakes him and says: "Rhys. That isn't Feyre. That's Erawan. He's possessing her. Rhysie, if we work together we can save her. Then you can be with the real Feyre. The one you fell in love with. The one who was kind and selfless."

Azriel places a hand on Rhysand's shoulder and says quietly: "The one who was brave and sweet."

Mor continues: "The one who was your equal, the one never destined for a life of child-rearing and parties."

Cassian places a hand on Rhys's other shoulder and carry's on: "The one who was a warrior in every way."

Aelin finishes: "And most importantly, the one who loved you so, so much."

Rhysand looks at Erawan/Feyre's outstretched hand.

He says cooly: "I'm sorry, but I reject your offer."

Aelin immediately encircles Feyre in a column of fire, Beron holding it there.

She turns to Maeve, ready, but she's already gone.

Aedion grumbles: "She must have sensed defeat."

Aelin nods quietly, focusing on holding the flame cage up.

Rowan senses her distress and says quickly: "We should place Erawan in a cell with lots of guards. Which is the most powerful court?"

Thesan replies: "Night court."

Rhysand croaks out: "No. The temptation would be too strong."

There are a few nods in reply.

Thesan asks worriedly: "Your majesty?"

Aelin manages a weak smile and says: "I'm okay. Um, how about the Dawn court then? The respective courts can go and protect their territory if need be, but in the unlikely event of him escaping, we need as much power as possible, so the High Lords should stay."

They nod politely, respecting her decision.

Tarquin clears his throat and says: "I'm afraid I have to go your majesty. My court's defences aren't the strongest."

Aelin says thoughtfully: "What if I send my court there? They're all great fighters, but we need magic here."

Tarquin smiles gratefully and says: "Yes, that would be wonderful actually."

Aelin quickly says: "Alright. My court, go to the Summer court. Rowan, Dorian, Manon, I want you guys here."

They quickly complete her orders.

Once Erawan is locked up, Aelin attempts a smile and bid them all goodnight.

--Rowan--

Facing Maeve was absolutely horrible. I know for Aelin especially. She tried so hard to keep up that facade, but it was crumbling down. It's what's been happening. The mask comes down, she cries, the mask goes up. I hate seeing her like this. So vulnerable and scared.

She makes to go to the bathroom but I pull her onto the bed.

I say softly: "Are you ok?"

She nods but her eyes are glimmering with tears. I envelop her in a hug, squeezing tightly.

She holds herself together for a minute before breaking down. She starts crying, her entire body trembling.

After a while, she pulls away. I kiss her cheek gently, the salt of her tears on my lips.

I rub the remainder of her tears off her face and ask again: "Are you ok?"

She says quietly: "Seeing Maeve made me feel weak. One would've thought I'd moved past it, but seeing her, it just brought me right back."

I stifle the tears that are threatening to erupt.

She continues, not noticing my expression: "It's just, I haven't felt this bad in ages. I thought I was healing from it, getting over it, but I wasn't. Yesterday, when I was jumping around, it was the first time I've felt like me since I was in Mistward. In the coffin, all I could think about was the kingdom, the Wyrdgate.

Rowan, I can't remember a single time where I thought I might not make it out and I felt sad. Rowan, I felt nothing! I realised I didn't really care if I lived or died, and I'm scared. I'm scared Rowan, because what does that make me?"

" A soulless monster?" she demands, her voice cracking

I grab her hands and say fiercely: "Listen to me Aelin. You are not a monster. You're the most beautiful person to ever walk this planet. And I don't mean on the outside. You have a heart that is so, so pure, you know how I know? I know, because that is why your court respects you. I know, because that is the reason why you are so damn, willing, to do anything, anything for the ones you love. It's the reason why I love you."

And so the girl sat there, looking at her one true love. Looking, and loving oh so fiercely, loving with her heart of pure, burning, fire.

Chapter Text

Rhysand rolls around on his bed. He bolts up, sweating buckets. All he can think about is Feyre. His mate, his equal, locked up with a demon inside her. Scratch that. The king of demons. Getting up, he walks to the balcony, the gentle night breeze kissing his face. Suddenly, there is movement. A dark silhouette comes dropping from above him. Before he can use the powers to soften the fall, the figure rolls skilfully on impact, absorbing the flow. The figure expertly hides in the shadows, weaving around the buildings like an assassin. Aelin.

Oh, of course, it was Aelin. His dearly beloved, angel of a sister Aelin. Who had been through so damn much, only to come back stronger, more loving. Nearly giving him a heart attack, she drops right in front of him.

She asks quietly: "Couldn't sleep?"

He nods and says: "Looks like you couldn't either."

She gives a humourless chuckle before turning away from the balcony and saying vaguely: "Nightmares. You?"

He replies: "Same."

She dips her head and gives him a small smile, a mutual understanding between them.

He asks in a brighter tone: "How did you learn how to move like that? You're like a shadow!"

She laughed, and with her eyes twinkling, she said: "Rhys I've been training to be an assassin since I was eight! I would've picked up a few skills don't ya think?"

He nods sheepishly and says: "I suppose so."

Placing her hands on the balcony railing, Aelin asks: "Do you think Mom would've been proud of me? If she could've seen what I've become?"

Rhys replies softly: "Aelin, even as kids I looked up to you. And now, with all this crazy shit the fates put onto you, you're still braver and kinder than ever. So yes, if Mom was here, you would be her pride and joy."

She smiles contentedly.

They stand there silently until Rhysand asks Aelin a question: "How did you get all your scars?"

She swallows tightly and says: "Which one?"

He picks her right hand up, turning it over. There is a thick scar, starting at her palm, disappearing underneath her black suit.

He points at it and replies: "That one."

She smiles grimly at the memory, and fingers tracing the scar, she answers: "When I was training, Arobynn Hamel, my master, realised I wasn't quite as skilled at swordplay with my left hand as I was with my right. He told me I had until the next day to break my right hand, or he would do it for me. That night, I slammed my hand on the heaviest door we had in the Keep. It was awful because he refused to let the healers set it until a few months in. They had to re-break it and splint it again. It took about a year to heal, and it was painful as hell, but it worked. My left hand is just as good as, if not better at swordplay than my right hand."

His voice hollow, Rhysand asks: "How old were you?"

"About twelve I think."

She finally turns towards him, looking at him. He's trembling with rage and shame. Shame because he wasn't there to protect her. Shame that he had let his sister go through so much that thinking of the horrible memory made her smile, even if it was a grim smile.

Pointing to her shoulder, he asks: "And that scar there?"

She blinks in surprise: "How did you know?"

"When I first saw you. It didn't look like it healed properly. Can I see it?"

After a moment's hesitation, she tugs the suit, exposing her shoulder.

He frowns: "It didn't close up."

She replies emotionlessly: "I got shot by a poisoned arrow during training. Arobynn refused to heal me until I identified what kind of poison it was. It took me around fifteen minutes, by that time the healers could barely save me, let alone close the wound. After that, he brought in the poison experts from the Bogdano Jungle."

Curious, he asks: "I thought only he taught you?"

She snorts and replies: "Gods no. I saw him a few times every week, and that was more than enough. I usually trained with other students, Ben, Arobynn's second in command, or I trained by myself. Arobynn sent me to the Silent Assassins of the Red Desert once, mind you, I nearly died there. And I think he once brought in the fighting masters from the rice fields of the southern continent."

Finally taking notice of his seething face, she says gently: "Don't worry about it. What's done is done. And anyway, half these scars I deserved. Look."

She points to a small scar running down the inside of her forearm.

"A man in a tavern sliced me open with a broken beer bottle after I cheated him in a round of cards and tried to steal his money."

Rhysand snorts lightly.

"What? You don't believe me?"

"No, I just never realised you were that bad at cards."

At this she laughs quietly, saying: "Aedion had the exact same reaction."

She continues, pointing to the necklace of scars around her neck: "I got these when I tried to kill Baba Yellowlegs, a witch. Or when she tried to kill me. I can't really remember."

Rhysand stands in thought for a moment, then says: "Wasn't this when you were in Rifthold?"

She nods and says: "They were all wondering what happened to her."

Alarmed, he asks: "Didn't they see the corpse?"

She shakes her head triumphantly and says: "I cut off her head, then cut her corpse into little bits, then shoved it all into the oven of her wagon."

He wrinkles his nose in disgust and says: "Really wish you could have chosen a less disgusting way, but great job sis. Also, does Rowan know you're here?"

At that moment, Rowan came flying in.

Aelin mutters with a scowl: "Speak of the devil."

Rowan sighs at her childishness and says: "Aela found a way to get rid of Erawan. Come on!"

_________________________________________________________________________

Chapter Text

Aelin flies into the room. All of the High Lords are gathered, a few of them scowling at her. She rolls her eyes and sits down.

Seeing her court back, she blinks in surprise: "Aedion? What are you guys doing back from the Summer Court?"

Tarquin said: "I asked them to return. They are incredibly powerful, and might very well win us this war."

She nods her acceptance before turning to Aela.

Looking at Aela's pale face, she asks gently: "Aela?"

Aela snaps out of her daze.

She says quietly: "I found a spell to take Erawan out of Feyre and kill him. It is old, dangerous magic. It transfers Erawan into another host. If the host is strong enough Erawan will die and the host will live. If Erawan is stronger than the host, the magic will kill Erawan in exchange for the soul of the host."

Gasps ring around the room.

Ignoring them, she questions: "Is this our only hope?"

Aela nods dejectedly, muttering: "Unfortunately."

Aelin straightens, eyes filled with grim resolve.

She says: "I'll do it."

Shouts of protests emerge immediately.

She raises a hand, snapping: "Quiet. We'll take a vote since you all keep questioning my decisions."

Tarquin interrupts: "Why should we risk the life of our queen just to save a High Lady? We ought to just kill her."

The night court starts shouting protests, and everyone else yells back. Aelin leans back in her chair, an amused smile caressing her face at the emerging drama. She lets out a sharp whistle and everyone falls silent.

She sighs: "As much as I love hearing the oh so esteemed high lords of Prythian argue and squabble pettily like little children, I suggest we get back to the matter at hand. Aela?"

Aela says swiftly: "According to the prophecy, all our answers are in the book, so I'm assuming that the spell will help us win."

Mor questions: "What about Maeve? The spell will deal with Erawan, but what about Maeve?"

Aela shrugs and says: "I can continue trying to decipher the book if you think that'll help."

Aelin nods and murmurs her thanks. She stares into the distance, a thoughtful look on her face.

Rowan nudges her slightly and she shakes her head. She looks around and gives a few of them an apologetic smile.

She says: "Aela if you can keep looking through the book, that would be wonderful. Right now, I think we ought to pay a visit to dear old Erawan."

---------------- Line Break -----------------

Aelin shifts nervously next to Rowan. He gives her a brief, reassuring smile, but she just frowns back.

She follows Thesan, striding purposefully down the narrow, winding stairs. Eventually, after countless twists and turns, they reach Erawan.

He drawls lazily: "Ah. Aelin, my dear. I was wondering when I would be graced with her majesty's presence. Should I start bowing and scraping?"

She plops onto a chair, a sinking feeling in her stomach.

One last time she promises herself, For one last time, you have to wear the mask of Celaena Sardothein. Then you can leave her behind.

It was a lie. It was a lie and she knew it. Celaena is and always will be a part of her. She would never forget the day she took her first kill, the way that man's eyes had held shock and fear until they glazed over, lifeless and cold. The way his lips had been pressed into a thin line as he shifted through his papers, unaware of the dagger flying towards his heart. The way the blood had gushed out, the coppery liquid flying out of the fatal wound.

And she would always remember his face. Handsome, young, full of promise. She had taken that away from him. She had taken that away from so many others, so many others with families, friends, lovers. And every time, every damn time she closed her eyes and heard the soft hum of metal as she drew her dagger, her knife, her blade, she would see their faces. Every one of them. And she would continue to do so until she exhaled her last breath.

As she spirals down a never-ending depth of depression, Erawan pulls her out of her thoughts.

"What's wrong majesty? Having a bad day? Cat got your tongue?"

She let out an amused chuckle: "No, but if you'd like to start bowing and scraping, it would certainly make my day better."

He snarls at her.

"Now, down to business." she asks curiously: "Why are you working with Maeve? She is Fae. An evil b*tch Fae, yes, but still fae."

He grins wickedly and says: "Maeve is my sister in law, and she will end you."

She tuts mockingly and says: "Now, now, don't get your Valg undies in a twist. Let's play nice for a while and have a civilised conversation. According to you, we are, after all, family, now aren't we? If I am to believe you, you would be the brother in law of my great-great-aunt. It makes sense Maeve is married to a Valg king, mind you. She's certainly vile enough, much higher than the Fae standards."

A devilish smirk spreads across his face: "So you don't know."

"Really? What don't I know?"

He gives her a feral grin: "Your great aunt isn't quite family."

She snorts in reply: "Bullshit."

"You're stupider than you look, Aelin Galathynius."

She taunts: "Or maybe your poor, shrivelled up mind is just confused."

She adds in a faux worried tone: "If that's the case, don't worry about it. It's just an honest mistake, really, it could happen to anybody. In fact, it could happen to anybody who was even a fraction of your age, so to make it this old and not be on your deathbed using a straw to eat is a great accomplishment already. Also, I'm quite worried for you dear uncle. I mean, trying to take over the world at this age, the long term health effects could be quite damaging. Don't take it personally, but if you really want to continue, though I'd highly suggest not to, be a dear and don't overexert yourself too much."

Rowan stares at her with a WTF expression on his face until it hits him.

~Smart~ he realises ~Smart to try and get him to confirm Maeve is Valg. If he takes the bait-~

Erawan spat: "Listen close, darling niece."

~He took it.~

He hissed venomously: "Your dearest Aunt Maeve, she's Valg. She's a Valg queen, who by the way, misses you very much as her little plaything. She opened a portal to this world, and she ripped her way into the minds of everyone to think that there had been three sisters all along. She's a Valg queen, posing as a Fae queen."

He finishes with a triumphant expression on his face, but slumps immediately, realising what he'd just said.

Aelin smiles and says: "Thank you for confirming my suspicions. Now, I think we should all go have a rest, we've been up since three in the morning, it's about twelve now.

Outside the dungeons, Aelin whispers softly to Aela: "Meet me in the gardens 10 minutes before lunch. I want to talk."

---Aela's P.O.V---

I nervously made my way to the cement bench in the middle of the gardens. Aelin was sitting on it, her figure forcibly relaxed, head leaning backwards, eyes closed.

I sit down softly next to her and ask: "Yes?"

Without opening her eyes, she says: "The spell, do you need to prepare anything in advance?"

I answer cautiously: "No, I'll just need the blood of Erawan and the host."

She nods and replies: "Aela, I would like you to perform the spell tonight. I shall host Erawan."

Chapter Text

--Aela's P.O.V--

I stare at her, stunned beyond belief.

I immediately say: "No. I refuse to."

She doesn't look at me twice and just says: "It's an order from your Queen."

I reply just as calmly: "Well then I shall not follow it."

She snaps sharply: "Look, Aela, I'm doing it. Either I'll do it with or without you. If you cared about my safety, you would help me to make sure nothing goes wrong."

I stare at her helplessly, I know she meant it.

I protest: "But Aelin, we can't defeat Maeve without you! She's a Valg Queen!"

She turns on me, her gaze depressing.

She says sombrely: "You think I don't know that? We couldn't deal with Maeve alone, we couldn't deal with Erawan alone. So many casualties Aela. And all that sacrifice? It did nothing to weaken him. How are we supposed to take them both? At least if I do this, only one life will be lost. And he'll be dead."

I shake my head and say feebly: "You don't know there were that many casualties."

Wrong thing to say.

She snarls and shouts: "You want proof? Go find Aedion. Tell him to show you the papers. The death rates, the ones who lived, the ones who were injured beyond repair. And if you still think that there weren't that many casualties, you can come back and I won't do it."

Her voice shaky, she continues: " What if they all die Aela? I can't allow that to happen. So many of them, so many, not when I can stop it."

Trying to comfort her, I say: "Aelin, it wasn't your fault. They died for something they believed in."

She just starts crying and demands: "Then what about the people I killed? The ones whose life I ended?"

I reply gently: "Leave the past behind. Don't dwell on it. Remember what Elena said? You were meant to go to the keep so that you could learn what was needed to save your country, to save the world. You were dealt such a wicked, impossible hand, and you made the best of it. And that's all you can do."

At my words, she starts to tear up even more.

I scoop her into a hug, arms wrapped tightly against her. She cries and cries as I idly stroke her hair.

She had such beautiful golden locks, once so similar to my own. That is until I came here and changed my appearance completely, opting for black over blonde, and for silver eyes over the traditional Ashryver turquoise and gold.

I chant in my head: "The fairest eyes from legends old, of brightest blue ringed with gold."

How on Prythian Aelin had recognised me was beyond me. Probably through our Fae senses.

I look down at her trembling figure and whisper softly: "So, Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius, get the hell up, and continue making the best of it. Or else I swear to the gods I will kick your ass when you die."

She slowly detaches herself from him and I shoot her an encouraging smile. She returns it weakly through her tears, but it's more genuine than any of the others she had sported here.

She says quietly: "I'm still gonna do it you know."

I sigh wearily.

"Aelin......"

She says hotly: "Look, you can't stop me, so -"

I cut in pleadingly: "Just promise me you'll survive. Do that for me cuz. Please. Make it through."

Her face softens and she says shakily: "I promise."

I make my face impassive and say: "Good. Tonight, dungeon, you and me."

"Swear on my life that you won't tell anyone and that you won't try to sabotage our meeting. In the old language."

I try to reason with her: "Aelin, a sacred oath just to -"

She just says: "Swear it."

I close my eyes tightly and say (Italics is the old language when swearing oaths): "I, Aela Ashryver, swear on the life of my future Queen Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius that I will not sabotage our meeting tonight nor will I disclose any information of our meeting to anyone in any way shape or form."

She nods curtly and gets up, swiftly heading elsewhere. I rub my face tiredly and walk slowly to my bed.

--Rowan's P.O.V.--

I look up as she slips into the room.

I cast a questioning gaze towards her and she says: "Just talked about some tactics to take Maeve down."

I ask, my voice hopeful: "And?"

She shook her head despondently: "Nothing."

I sigh and pull her into an embrace.

I murmur into her hair: "We'll figure something out. We can take them both. Without using that spell."

She just shakes her head depressingly and says gently: "Get some sleep. I'm going to give the new High Lord of the Spring Court his powers later."

I stare at her blankly.

She shrugs casually and says: "Who knows when we'll have free time again? Might as well do it now."

I nod suspiciously. She just sighs and shoves me down before lying down next to me. I turn to her and watch as her features relax and her breathing evens.

I run a thumb over her cheek, whispering softly: "I love you Fireheart."

At the same time.............

Aela's P.O.V

As I make to leave the garden, Rhysand stops me.

He asks me worriedly: "Is Aelin ok? You guys looked stressed."

I plaster on a smile and say: "Fine."

He says hurriedly: "Um, could we meet tonight?"

I narrow my eyes at him.

"Why?"

He says quietly: "I want to host Erawan. I can't choose between Feyre and Aelin. I love them both."

I mentally slap the two idiots. Seriously, like, is it a gene issue? Cos this family has some weird-ass suicidal tendencies. Like this is a big problem, they should go to a therapist or something. And of course, I'm stuck in the middle of it. Like WHY???

I'm about to tell him about Aelin, but I pause. Stupid oath. Now I have to fake protest and make up an excuse.

I guess he took my pause as uncertainty cos he's saying: "Look, please Aela, I have to do this."

I sigh. Great, time for the acting.

I snap: "No! Rhysand are you out of your mind? Especially with what we just learnt! Maeve is a Valg Queen, you idiot. How could you leave Aelin to deal with that alone? She just got you Rhys. I don't think she particularly wants to lose you."

He rubs his face at this, uncertain now. Huh, my acting's pretty good. Or maybe his suicidal thoughts aren't as strong as hers.

He says blankly: "If she does it she'll lose all of us. If I do it she'll lose me, and that's all. So I'm doing it."

Dam (A/N Comment if y'all get it) Rhysand and his insufferably logical logic.

Still, we argue back and forth.

It goes on for an hour until I finally relent and say: "Fine. But I need to prep the ingredients. I can't do it tonight."

He looks at me at my tone. Obviously, he expected some guilt. That's the problem, I don't feel any guilt for agreeing to basically kill him! Because I'm gonna kill his sister! And I'm not gonna kill him! So I let that bring guilt to my eyes. Guilt for lying, guilt for agreeing.........

Once I'm sure enough guilt has blossomed on my face and he looks away, satisfied, I let a tear roll down my cheek.

He turns to me and says: "C'mon, let's go see Tamlint's replacement."

____________________________

Chapter Text

--Third P.O.V. --

On the podium, the dark-haired, fair-skinned man kneels down nervously in front of the Heir of Mala.

Even if she doesn't have a crown of fire dancing upon her head, her very presence demands respect, the power rolling off her in waves as she prepares to perform the ancient ritual.

Next to her, her cousin stands, frowning at the primitive book. The golden-haired woman huffs and moves over to her. She flicks the yellowed pages swiftly, and Aela promptly whacks her arm. The two begin to quietly bicker, and after much groaning and grumbling, they eventually find the correct page.

Aelin mutters a quick apology to the man, shooing Aela off the makeshift stage. She smiles deceptively sweetly at him, but he doesn't relax, cautious and on his guard.

She bends down under the guise of adjusting her dress, and dropping her voice to a low whisper, she says viciously: "If you even think of harming your court, death would be the least of your worries. Clear?"

Most of the high lords expect him to start trembling, bowing and scraping, but he doesn't so much as flinch. She straightens and stares at him, her expression neutral. She doesn't make a move, waiting. Slowly, steadily, he lifts his gaze to meet hers.

She stares into his green eyes, not a trace of fear in them. A perfect leader.

"Crystal."

His voice is firm, yet polite. A touch of nervousness, yes, but well hidden. Tucking a lock of hair behind her delicately pointed ears, she starts to nod.

"Good," she says approvingly "A fine leader you'll make. Elijah Carson, are you ready to become the High Lord of the Spring court?"

He nods his assent confidently.

She smiles down at him, a true smile, before she begins to chant.

Her power quadruples in size as the ancient words slip out her mouth effortlessly. As her power expands, a ball of pure power is formed in her hands. She stops her chanting and the High Lords sigh in relief. The power they had felt pouring into the world was magnificent, beautiful, yet absolutely terrifying.

Upon closer inspection, the seemingly yellow ball of power was beautiful. There were light accents of green, and the ball radiated warmth, releasing the scent of flowers. The ball embodied the spring court perfectly, at least the spring court before Tamlin's rule.

Many of them saw the former high lord of the spring court as a menace, a wicked Fae. But Thesan knew better. He saw Tamlin's father as a man fiercely devoted to protecting his court, a man who had given so much to ensure the joy of his citizens. The demeanour he kept up was terrifying, yes, Thesan knew that. But it was all for his people, much like what Rhysand had done for Velaris. Except Rhysand had a chance to show his true self, something that he never got a chance to do.

Carrying the ball of power carefully in her arms, she asks: "Elijah Carson. Do you swear on your life, your bloodline, your soul, that you will never forsake the Spring Court?"

"I do."

"Do you swear that you will place the life of every citizen of your court before that of your own and protect them to the best of your ability?"

"I do."

"Do you swear that you will forever be loyal to your court, Prythian, and that every decision you make will be for the safety of your people?"

"I do."

She pauses before saying softly: "Do you swear that you will use this power for the greater good and that you will never take advantage of your power and position in Prythian?"

"I do."

She grins widely before thrusting the ball of power at his chest.

"Then all hail Lord Elijah Carson, High Lord of the Spring Court!"

The High Lords shift uncomfortably, they aren't big fans of bowing. Luckily, Rhysand swiftly bends down, his court following suit. After a few glares and death threats veiled under the pretence of innocently twirling a dagger between her fingers, all the High Lords and their court are bowing.

Elijah stares in awe of everyone bowing, causing Aelin to give him a low chuckle, saying: "Enjoy it."

She gracefully makes her way off the podium. She stands in front of her court before giving him a smirk. She then proceeds to glide into a shallow curtsey.

Elijah snorts disbelievingly, trying to contain his giggles as Aelin quietly slips off, leaving behind a bunch of confused and still bowing High Lords.

Elijah might not have been sure if he was ready for this High Lord stuff, but one thing was for certain:

He really liked this queen.

At night.......

A gleeful cackle echoes through the dungeon.

"You really think that spell will stop me? I will crush you, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius."

She snarls and snaps: "Whitethorn. It's Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius."

She turns to Aela: "Cuz, I'm so sorry."

Aela sniffles and says: "Don't be an idiot. I'm just sad we never got to spend more time together. I know Mor would've loved you, you are half cousins."

Aelin swallows tightly.

She envelops Aela in a hug, whispering softly: "I love you 'la."

In those moments, Aela felt her heart melt. Her little cuz, all grown up.

She puts her arms around her, whispering back: "Love you too 'lin."

Aelin breaks off first.

She wipes her tears off and says firmly: "Ok. I'm ready. Let's do this."

_________________________________

Chapter Text

Aela lifts the blanket off the tray she brought down. Underneath is a beautiful ceramic mortar and pestle. Next to it is a gorgeous dagger. It has a plain white hilt, but the blade itself is a work of art. It's polished finely, and the blade has a wickedly sharp edge.

Aelin absentmindedly runs a finger across the Wyrdmarks decorating it, admiring the work.

She says quietly: "It's beautiful."

Aela nods and replies in an equally quiet voice: "The Wyrdmarks are supposed to help the magic. I also put in a healing mark over there, just for good measure."

Aelin smiles weakly and murmurs: "Thank you."

Aela bites her lip uncertainly and doesn't reply. Instead, she opens one of the vials on the tray and sniffs it.

Under her breath, she mutters: "Salamander blood."

She carefully tips the bottle, causing the crimson liquid to come gushing out.

She pauses for a moment, thinking back to the book.

Thinking hard, she murmurs: "So salamander blood, then essence of dittany, dandelion root, unicorn hair, armadillo bile, powdered root of Asphodel, and some doxy eggs."

After brewing the mixture, Aela turns to Aelin. Aelin mutely extends her hand, and Aela grabs the dagger.

She asks hoarsely: "Are you sure?"

Aelin tilts her head and glances at the shaft of sunlight pouring in from the window.

Aela continues: "Dawn's breaking. If you want to do it we have to do it now."

Aelin nods firmly, not a trace of hesitation in her eyes. Aela sighs but slices her palm open anyways.

She allows three drops of the blood to be poured into the mortar, then she does the same to Erawan.

After sketching a Wyrdmark on Aelin's arm, Aela asks: "I assume you know what to do?"

Aelin tries for a cocky smirk, but Aela says: "Don't. Just let this be real."

Aelin nods: "Ok. Please tell them all I'm sorry. Tell Manon that she'll be a wonderful ruler and that she shouldn't kill too many men now. Tell her I'm sorry we never got a proper rematch. Tell Dorian that he'll be a great king for Adarlan too and that I'm sorry I couldn't be there to see his coronation. Tell Elide that she's grown to be a splendid woman, and I know that her mom would be proud of her. Tell the cadre that I'll never stop calling them that and they better help in the war. Tell Lys that I'm will forever be thankful that I was her friend and that Terrasen will always honour her as a hero.

Tell Aedion that he should remember we're still in a war and that he needs to get his act together and win it. Tell Rhys that I'm sorry that I'm leaving him and that I'm happy we got to spend a few days together. Tell Rowan that I love him, and I'm sorry that I broke my promise."

She starts crying now, but she still ploughs on.

"Tell him that I want him to move on and that I hope he finds happiness one day. And tell the three of those idiotic overprotective fae males that if they sit around crying all day I will wake up and kick their asses, then go back again. And if Aedion doesn't treat Lys right I will help her plan his murder."

In spite of herself, Aela laughs through her tears.

Aelin stumbles towards her and whispers: "I'm sorry. I'm glad I got you back."

Before Aela can say anything, Aelin walks swiftly toward Erawan and connects their cuts.

She smiles and whispers: "I love you guys."

She lets out an ear-piercing scream and both her and Erawan collapse onto the floor.

Suddenly, there is a shout: "Aelin, no!"

Aela stands there, frozen, while Rowan sprints towards her and cradles her head in his arms. Eventually, everyone is in the small dungeon.

Rhys takes in the scene and growls: "Aela explain."

Her voice cracking, she says: "Aelin came to me and ordered me to do the spell."

A silence follows her words, broken by Rowan's sobs. Aedion walks over and kneels down next to Aelin, the rest of her court following.

Rhysand demands: "When?"

Her head hung low, she whispers: "Just before I talked to you."

He snarls and screams: "So you lied to me! You lied to my face! Now my sister is going to die and it's all your fault!"

She lifts her eyes to meet his and growls defiantly: "You do not get to pin that on me. She forced me to swear on the old language that I would not say anything, and don't you think that it broke my heart to do that to her? I grew up with her, I loved her, I was there with her. So don't you dare pin that on me."

Just as Rhysand is about to yell back, Elide screams: "ENOUGH!"

"Enough. Stop yelling. Aelin could possibly die, and you two are acting like children. Just STOP IT!"

She turns to Aela and asks: "Did she say anything?"

Aela sniffles and replies: "Yeah. She said to tell you all that she's sorry, and, and that-"

Thesan offers: "Rhysand could just show us the memories. From the beginning."

Aela nods and looks pleadingly to Rhysand.

He snaps: "Fine. But don't expect me to be gentle about it."

Rhysand glares, sending out a coil of magic and shoving into her mind.

The memories play out in everyone's head, and Aela bites her lip so hard that it draws blood.

Most of them are crying, and Mor asks hoarsely: "When will Feyre wake up?"

"Anytime now. She should be fine, she didn't go through any pain during the ritual. It went to Aelin."

Rhysand nods numbly and crouches down by Feyre. Carefully, the two Fae males gather their mates into their arms, picking them up bridal style.

--Rhysand's P.O.V.--

I pick up my mate carefully, trying not to cry. I look at her tall and slender frame, taking in her features. Her pale skin, her gorgeous golden brown locks. I shift my gaze onto her lidded eyes, she looks so contented and at peace, like she's asleep.

Suddenly, I'm staring into the stunning upturned blue-grey eyes of my mate.

"Feyre."

Chapter Text

"Feyre."

Rhysand starts crying into her, overcome with emotion. The courts flock around the High Lady, most of them happy, a few of them upset at the cost of her revival.

Feyre reaches out a slender finger and wipes away her mate's tears.

Mor immediately rushes over and starts fussing over her.

"Are you okay?" She demands

Feyre laughs brightly at her friend.

"I'm fine."

Cassian too makes his way over, asking worriedly: "What happened?"

Feyre's smile becomes frozen in place, her eyes glazing over.

Rhysand shakes her gently: "Feyre. Feyre!"

She snaps out of it, immediately stumbling backwards.

"Oh god." she whispers, horrified "Oh god, what have I done?"

She backs against the cold dungeon wall, sliding down, body trembling. Tears cascading down her face, she shakes her head repeatedly, muttering the word "no" over and over.

Rhysand shuffles forward, enveloping her in an awkward hug. She starts sobbing into his shoulder, mumbling incoherent words.

Hellion steps forward and says softly: "Maybe we should get her upstairs, into a bath and some clothes, then we can talk?"

He gestures to his right, where a party were making their way out of the dungeons.

Rowan is at the front, carrying his queen, and behind him trails the group from Erilea, their eyes all red and puffy. As they pass Rhysand, a few of the females offer him small smiles, while the males stare ahead, sporting identical stoic expressions paired with eyes filled with devastation and unimaginable grief.

As the group makes their way out of the dungeon, Aela hesitates a moment, torn between her old and new court. After a seconds hesitation, however, she darts forward to her brother's side, where she's greeted with a cold stare.

Flinching, she hangs backwards, guilt clear in her features. To her surprise, Lysandra stays backwards as well, grabbing her hand, tugging her forwards. Aela hangs her head in shame but walks out of the dungeon as well.

The High Lords follow soon after, a few of them acknowledging their happiness for Rhysand before running after their true queen, leaving the Night Court behind.

Mor hisses: "They just want power. Idiots."

Cassian nods his agreement vehemently: "I get the reaction from her court and all but the High Lords are really just a bunch of power-hungry b*tches."

Ignoring the two of them, Rhysand carefully loops his hands under Feyre, picking her up.

--Rowan's P.O.V.--

As I make my way out of the dungeon, I try not to burst into tears immediately. Aelin, oh Aelin you stupid idiot. I bring her to our room, laying her down on the bed. Absentmindedly, I stroke her golden hair as my body shakes with my sobs. Next to me, Aedion is also shaking, crying silently, Lysandra standing next to him, trying to offer him comfort whilst still breaking down herself.

I cry even more as I remember what she said: "If Aedion doesn't treat Lys right I will help her plan his murder."

But that wasn't all she had said.

"And tell the three of those idiotic overprotective fae males that if they sit around crying all day I will wake up and kick their asses, then go back again."

Even that close to her death Aelin still had that spark in her, that spark of wildfire with a touch of insanity.

As her words are repeated into my head, her voice brings back memories.....

...................................................

"I missed you only with an ocean between us. But if death was separating us... I would find you."

...................................................

"To whatever end?"

"To whatever end, Fireheart."

...................................................

"I don't know what to do."

"You fight. We fight. Until we can't anymore. We fight."

...................................................

"You make me want to live, Rowan. Not survive; not exist. Live."

...................................................

"I claim you too, Aelin Galathynius."

...................................................

"Let's go rattle the stars."

...................................................

"I love you. There is no limit to what I can give to you, no time I need. Even when this world is forgotten whisper of dust between the stars, I will love you."

...................................................

"I see you. I see every part of you. And I am not afraid."

...................................................

I come out of my memories, sobs wracking my body. In front of me, Aelin is screaming, the pain in the sound so raw, so terrible, it made my heart shatter a thousand times over. She starts thrashing wildly, her body going through a fit of spasms, her breathing hurried and uneven.

But I could do nothing but sit there. Next to my love, my mate, my one joy and happiness, and pray that she would get through it.

Slowly, after what seems to be an eternity, she stops hyperventilating, her tense muscles relaxing, her features relaxing, her breaths evening out. I reach out and intertwine our fingers together, squeezing her sweaty palms.

I dip a cloth into the bucket beside me with a small splash. I gently place it on her forehead, pushing her golden hair out of the way. Suddenly, Aedion appears next to me.

He asks wearily: "How is she?"

I swallow tightly before answering: "She's as okay as she'll be. She's burning up, and occasionally she'll trash violently, but other than that she's fine."

He comments: "Y'know, she looks peaceful. Serene and.... happy. Or as happy as she can look, especially with her burning up."

I nod in agreement, it had been a while since I had seen her so contented. She actually looked lovely and could pass off as asleep, save for the demon episodes (which we had taken to calling them) and her flushed red cheeks.

I say as much to Aedion, who immediately dunks his hand into the water.

With a sigh, he says: "I'll see about getting some colder water."

I dip my head in acknowledgement and thanks, but he isn't done yet.

"I'll also go talk to Ae- her and see if her demon episodes are normal."

There is a slight bitterness to his words, and I force myself to look at him, croaking out a: "Thank you."

Despite the situation, he smiles and says: "She's my cousin. Don't thank me, just kick her ass for me when she wakes up."

Our eyes meet, pine green meeting the famed Ashryver eyes.

Grief.

Kindness.

Love.

These emotions flash in his eyes, similar to Aelin's, though I highly doubt she showed anyone that side of her. It took me weeks to see it, and even then I was pretty sure I never truly saw it all. And now whenever I did look at her, I saw a solid wall, blocking all and any emotions out.

I hated it.

I hated that she kept things from me, hated that I couldn't help her, hated that those eyes were all it took to make me feel this way.

So I tear my eyes away from his, offering him a nod instead.

--Aela's P.O.V.--

There it is again.

Her screams.

Her horrifying, heart-wrenching screams.

I sigh and slump backwards. Since the screams first started I've been pouring over the books, but I can't find anything.

Suddenly, a knock sounds.

Slightly irritated, I call out, an edge to my voice: "Come in!"

The door opens slightly and a blond head pops in.

Swiftly masking my shock, I say: "Aedion? Can I help you?"

Ignoring my words, he says sharply: "We need to talk."

Chapter Text

--Aela's P.O.V.--

Without another word, he turns on his heel and walks away briskly. Blinking in surprise, I stack a few books and shuffle my notes before quickly getting up and following. After a few minutes, I catch up to him.

He ignores me and continues walking, eventually arriving at a deserted corridor.

Getting straight to the point, he asks: "What's up with her demon episodes? And why is she burning up?"

I sigh and sit down on a nearby bench, rubbing my face in annoyance.

"I've been trying to figure it out since they started. From what I've read, I'm assuming that Erawan is attacking her mind, which is what's causing the demon episodes. And the burning up is a repercussion of said demon episodes."

He demands: "Didn't she go through this in Mistward? She beat them! Why is she like this now?"

I say quietly: "That's what I thought. But those Valg show her her memories. Erawan's manipulating her mind. He's warping her memories, like what Maeve did."

As a look of horror and realisation comes onto his face, he snaps: "But she wanted Aelin's mind intact. Erawan doesn't care! He'll destroy her! How could you help her to do that?"

I reach out a hand but he walks away.

Trying not to let my hurt show, I say: "Aedion, please, I had no choice. She told me she would do it with or without me! If she did it wrongly- she- she would've died immediately!"

My tone turning angry, I say: "Don't you think I feel awful? I just wanted to give her a fighting chance! If you want to hate me for it, go ahead."

I stand up and growl: "But just so you know, I would rather I do what I did than send her to her death. At least now she might live."

--Aedion P.O.V.--

I stare at her, absolutely floored.

Lysandra comes up next to me and snaps: "What the hell Aedion? Look, I get that you're upset the Aelin's putting herself in danger time and time again, but you do not get to take it out on us. If you actually opened your eyes, you would see that we feel bad enough.

Look at her Aedion. She's crying, she's upset, and you can see nothing but guilt in her face. She feels bad enough, so stop blaming her. Stop blaming us.

We were trying to help her Aedion, I was trying to make what she would do easier, and Aela, Aela was trying to make sure that she actually had a chance to live.

I get that you still kinda blame me, and frankly, I don't care anymore. But she's your sister goddamn it, so stop it! Get your act together, or so help me god I will kill you."

I swallow, taking her words to heart, but I don't say anything. She shakes her head in disbelief and scoffs.

She makes to walk off, but I stop her, saying quietly: "I'm sorry. I, I, just"

She cuts in, her face softening: "Later. Right now, go find your sister."

"No, I want to tell you that-"

With a soft smile on her face, she interrupts me, saying: "I know. And I've forgiven you. Just go talk to your sister."

I return her smile and turn, about to walk off. Suddenly, I stop and circle back.

And I kiss her.

Blushing furiously, I runoff.

-----------------------------

I find Aela in the gardens, sitting on a fountain, crying her eyes out.

I walk towards her, about to give her a hug, but before I do so, she lifts her bent head, hearing the sound of my feet crunching on the grass.

Upon seeing me, she quickly and discreetly (kinda not really) wiped her tears away. She lifted her eyes to meet my gaze, and her face hardens, lips twisting into a harsh scowl.

She snaps: "What do you want? I stand by what I said."

I shift awkwardly on my feet and says sheepishly: "I know, I just came here to apologize."

Her mouth hangs open like a goldfish, and she gives a quick "Oh." before shifting and making space for me on the bench.

I sit down next to her. Unsure of what to say, I opened and closed my mouth a few times. She doesn't seem to mind, she just sits there, leaning on me, swinging her legs idly in the wind. Like she used to do when we were kids.

She says into the silence: "This is where she told me what she wanted me to do."

I twisted my head to look at her in confusion.

She quickly clarifies: "Aelin I mean. She told me to meet her here."

Suddenly, I blurt out: "I'm sorry."

She raises an eyebrow but keeps quiet.

Hurriedly, I continue: "I blamed you when I really blamed myself."

She places a comforting arm around me, and my voice shaking, I explain: "I was never there for her. Not when her parents were killed, not when Arobynn forced her to kill, not when she was sent to Endovier, not when those she cared about were killed. I guess I just hoped that once we were back in each other's lives, I could be there for her. But no. She keeps putting herself into these life or death situations, and I can't help her."

I sniffle and rub a tear off my cheek.

"So I guess what I'm saying is, I was just angry that I wasn't capable enough to protect her, and I took it out on you. I'm sorry."

She murmurs softly: "Oh, Aedion."

She envelops me into a hug, and she whispers: "Aedion, I get it. I hate it too, that this was the life my baby cuz had to live and that I wasn't there to protect her. But that's the kind of person she is. She'll do anything for us, and we can't do much about it. All we can do is make sure she lives and that she'll get her happily ever after."

I sob into her shoulder, asking: "But why? Yes, she cares about us, but why does she keep wanting to sacrifice herself? Hasn't she done enough?"

Aela pulls back and says quietly: "Because she wants to pay. The first time she killed a man, she vomited, and she was sick for days. She feels like with all the death she caused, if anyone dies it should be her. She feels guilt Aedion. She thinks that she has not only abandoned her kingdom, but she has also killed so many others. She thinks that if anyone should go through death and suffering, it should be her.

Why do you think she collects all those scars Aedion? It's her own way of showing that she's suffering, paying back all those years of pain she's caused for others. But she's been through so much, too much, and in her eyes, it still isn't enough.

Because she'll never think it's enough."

--------------------------------------------------

Chapter Text

--Aedion P.O.V.--

I look at her, shock clearly written on my face.

I whisper: "I never knew she felt like that."

She lets out a dry laugh and says: "She's done an excellent job hiding it."

I frown at her.

"How do you know then?"

Her face takes on a sheepish expression and she mutters quietly: "It's a sorceress thing. When she showed the memories I kinda subconsciously saw the memories she hid. I managed to stop it after a while, so I didn't see everything."

She shudders involuntarily.

"But it was more than enough."

The fond smile melts right off my face. Aelin, oh Aelin. Why do you have to hide everything from us?

I awkwardly put an arm around Aela, squeezing her shoulders tightly.

She chuckles and says: "Thanks for apologising. You know, I did feel awful."

"It's okay. I was more pissed at myself than I was at you."

Tearing up slightly, I continue: "Anyway, I'm pretty sure Aelin would've kicked my ass if she knew how I treated you."

Her face takes on a forlorn expression, and she says with forced amusement: "Yup. Uh, I'm gonna go now. I'll see if we can somehow improve her demon episodes. Maybe you can go and see Lysandra or something?"

Fighting the blush rising to my cheeks, I mutter: "I'll just go get some cold water for Aelin."

She nods with a quick "Yeah, of course." and walks off, a steadily forced indifference on her face.

Sighing, I lug the bucket of water into Aelin's room. Rowan is in the exact same position he was in, slouching in a chair, his hand gripping her's tightly.

I walk up to them, the water slish-sloshing against the metal walls of the bucket. With a small thump, I set the bucket down beside him. He gives me a grateful nod and dunks the was cloth into the bucket, not bothered at all by the freezing cold of the water.

He lifts the cloth up and wrings it swiftly, placing it on her sweaty forehead. All of a sudden, she starts flailing around wildly.

With a panicked look in his eyes, he leaps into action, pinning her arms to the sides.

Once she calms down, he lets go and pulls away her blanket.

I recoil at the amount of blood staining her torso, and highly alarmed, I demand: "What the hell happened?"

He doesn't reply and instead removes the front of her shirt. He dips a sponge into the water and slowly and methodically wipes off the blood in a few loving swipes. He closes his eyes and places his hands an inch away from her bruised and bloody stomach, frowning hard.

A gentle green glow (A/N This is not accurate) envelops his hands, allowing his magic to be poured onto her wounds.

Slowly, the skin stitched together, eventually leaving no trace of the wound behind save for a few lines of tissue.

Finally, he leaned back, relaxing ever so slightly.

He explains: "She's been hurting herself. Scratching herself up. It's the fifth time I've had to do that."

I frown in response.

"Well, are you okay? It seems like it's taking up a lot of power."

He says tiredly: "It's not. It's just I thought we would get attacked a lot more with Aelin comatose. I've been digging into my magic since we found her, I'm almost at the bottom now. It just takes up a lot of energy to control it and make sure I don't hurt her, especially with my emotions going haywire."

I nod and say with a sigh: "Look, Rowan, I hate to say this but, you need to get up. Have a meal, go to sleep. Tomorrow morning, we need to plan what we're gonna do, and we can't do that whilst you're in this state. I know it sucks, okay, but this is what Aelin would've wanted us to do.

Aelin did this so we would have a chance at saving this world, and if we keep moping around Rowan, there won't be a world for Aelin to wake up to. Because we'll all be dead. And that would crush her.

So, please. You can't do anything for her right now, but at least make sure that when she wakes up, her world will still live."

He nods wearily and gets up.

There is a soft knock on the door, and Elide comes in.

She gives them a weak smile and says: "I'll take care of Aelin, prince. Go and rest. You'll need your energy for what's to come."

He nods again, and with a grim face, he leans down and presses a tender kiss to her cheek. She visibly relaxes, her stiff joints loosening up slightly.

He sends a loving smile to his queen, and with a soft murmur of "Take care of her", he turns on his heel and strides out the door.

----------------------------------------------

Chapter Text

--Rhysand P.O.V--

Paying my bickering court no attention, I carry Feyre up the stone steps, finding an odd comfort in the steady thumps of my shoes against the cool dungeon floor. Up and up the spiral staircase I go, my court following close behind. 

Eventually, we reach the room. A small, contented smile lights up my face as I look down and see my mate in my arms. I bring her into the bathroom, shutting the door with a small click.

I hear Cassian say suggestively: "I bet I know what's going on in there."

There is an awkward silence. Suddenly,

SLAP

"Ow," Cassian whines "That hurt Mor."

She hisses back: "Well, don't talk about them like that."

I chuckle quietly to myself. 

I shake awake the nearly unconscious Feyre, and I whisper in her ear: "Darling, can you stand up? I'll get the bath running."

She nods weakly and I help her to her feet.

Suddenly, she starts whimpering, muttering: "No, no!"

I try to touch her, but she backs away in fear. Suddenly, she lets out a scream and falls down.

She starts sobbing, and I crouch down beside her, trying to help. She just buries her face in her hands and starts trembling.

The door opens, and Mor rushes in, asking frantically: "Are you okay? We heard a scream, and-"

She takes in the scene and mutters: "By the Cauldron."

She too crouches down on Feyre's other side, trying her best to comfort the High Lady of the Night court.

Eventually, after what seems to be an eternity, Cassian comes forward and says in an unnaturally solemn and gentle tone: "Rhys, let's just get her onto the bed."

I nod through my tears and whisper: "Mor, can you-"

She cuts me off, saying softly: "Of course."

She brings Feyre to the bed, tucking her gently up in the blankets.

I perch on the side of the bed and say quietly: "This is all my fault. I should've gone up with her, I should've done something, anything!"

Cassian says in a bitter tone: "It's not your fault. It's that Queen's. She brought her problems from her world."

Mor looks at me before adding: "We know she's your sister and all Rhys, but this really is her fault. She brought us her problems, and I know she said she rather she dies over Feyre, but Feyre's the one suffering right now, isn't she?"

A soft snarl comes from the doorway. We turn in surprise to see Aela standing there, positively livid.

Mor asks spitefully: "Why are you here? Finally remember you have a High Lady?"

Aela gives us a low, warning growl. She advances, a murderous expression on her face.

She snaps: "I don't have a High Lady."

Mor lets out a low, humourless laugh and replies: "Oh yes, I forgot. It seems like being in Second in command wasn't enough for you. You wanna chase after some lying bitch queen? Go ahead. Just know, all this is her fault, and don't you there come crawling back to us once you see her for what she is. A monster."

Cassian murmurs softly: "Mor, enough."

Ignoring Cassian, Aela growls: "Don't you dare insult my Queen. None of this is her fault. Open your eyes, Mor. Feyre, suffering?"

A mocking scoff.

"Don't make me laugh. Compared to Aelin, Feyre has been through nothing. Feyre had a poor childhood, boohoo. Aelin's parents were murdered, she was found half-dead on the frozen banks of a river. In fact, if not for a dead Queen, my cousin wouldn't be alive. She was sent to a slave camp, and in case you forgot, she was tortured for two months by a deranged, psychotic Valg Queen. I guarantee you, anything Feyre has been through, Aelin has. And so while her so-called brother allows you to fling insults at her, I do not."

I stand up and snarl in warning, even whilst shame fills my mind.

She sucks in a deep breath and says through barely restrained anger: "I do not mean to insult Feyre. She has gone through more than anyone should, but so has Aelin. I just think you would do well to stop your second in command from insulting your sister."

I nod briefly at her and sit down. 

She glares at Mor before saying: "Anyway, I came here to tell Rhysand that Aelin is-"

Mor asks in a faux worried tone: "Crying over a stubbed toe? Big deal."

Tears in her eyes, she thrusts a hand towards Feyre, screaming: "She's going through her worse memories!"

Aela advances and shouts: "Aelin is thrashing around wildly! Hyperventilating! Hurting herself! Screaming bloody murder! Having a Valg King rip into her mind! Oh, but Feyre is going through her worse memories! Aelin's only going through a warped and twisted version of her worse memories! That's nothing compared to what Feyre is going through!"

She turns around and heads for the doorway, only turning back to snap at me: "You can come see Aelin if you want. No one else is allowed to see her, only the visitors from Terrasen. Too many unfamiliar presences might make her react negatively, Rowan doesn't want to take any chances."

She pauses, as if in thought, before continuing harshly: "Maybe you shouldn't come. You're acting nothing like the brother Aelin told me you were. He would have defended her." 

I hang my head in shame as she storms off.

I lift my gaze to see them staring at Feyre worriedly, a faintly ashamed expression on Mor's face.

Before I can say anything, Azriel says: "That was uncalled for."

Cassian mumbles a quick apology towards me while Mor's head dips even lower, guilt clouding her features.

Azriel turns to me and asks: "Are you going to see Aelin?"

I shrug, the movement helpless and despondent.

Suddenly, there is a polite knock on the door.

I turn once more, expecting to see Aela. To my surprise, Dorian is standing there.

He gives me a sheepish: "Hey."

I tilt my head to the side, questioning him.

He hastily explains: "I just came to see how Feyre was doing. I've been uh, possessed, I guess is the word you would use. I've been possessed by a Valg prince."

I can see Cassian staring at him with a newfound curiosity, and I ask a short, curt question.

"So?"

He seems taken aback by the bluntness in my words, but he answers: "I know what it feels like."

His tone turns raw, vulnerable.

He whispers: "When it was in me, I did horrible, disgusting things. I killed, I tortured, I learned to feed on fear. I learned to love it. I hated it so much. I hated it so much, that for a while, I hated Aelin for not killing me."

His voice cracks, but he continues in a relatively steady tone: "I just wanted to say that that feeling revulsion, that hatred and disgust I felt for myself, it didn't go away. Hell, there's probably a part of me that will always feel that way. And I might be wrong, but this is probably what Feyre's feeling right now, just on a whole new level. So don't push her too much right now."

Next to me, Mor's nodding gratefully in thanks, saying: "Thanks. It clears some stuff up."

His once nervous, tentative face breaks into a smile and he replies: "No problem."

He turns to leave, but I ask, my voice thick with emotion: "Do you know why Feyre is scared of me right now? Every time I try to touch her, she backs away."

He circles right back, the smile sliding off his face.

Oh no.

Chapter Text

Dorian walks slowly towards Rhysand, head bent.

He says quietly: "It's not something I like to talk about, but to get me to bend to its will, it used a picture of a loved one."

He lets out a watery and forced chuckle.

"The stuff they made me do was bad enough, but when the demon took the form of her and started giving me orders, that was when I really broke. That was when I started hoping for death. That was when I stopped fighting.

And even afterwards, when her death plagued my dreams, I was afraid of her."

He tilted his head, expression showing nothing but disbelief.

"I was afraid of the woman I loved."

He kept his head down, the tension in the air thick and palpable.

Suddenly, Azriel speaks up: "I'm sorry. Not just for that, but everything you've been through."

Dorian shakes his head, even whilst a small smile lights up his face.

"Nothing I've been through will ever compare to what Aelin's been through."

Trying to push away the guilt that nibbled at her bit by bit, Mor says: "Not true, Aelin had a happy childhood. From what we've heard, you were raised by a demon and a whole bunch of palace courtiers."

He cocks his head, staring at her in disbelief.

"Aelin's parents were murdered when she was eight. She was given the choice between killing people or being killed. Her training wasn't pretty either. And even before her parents died, she lived in fear.

Y'know, she once told me that she hated it. Her power I mean. She told me that she feared and hated it, even as a kid. For a while, she hated it all. She hated herself, her parents, her future crown. She said that every day it felt like she would make one wrong move and those she loved would be killed.

Haven't you ever wondered why that facade she put up was so strong? So impenetrable? Because that's what she's been doing since she was a child. I guess some days it just was easier to put on a mask, and let that sass fool everyone into thinking she was perfectly alright instead of showing how vulnerable and afraid she really was."

An awkward silence fell on the room, the enormity of what she'd accused the young queen of smacking Mor right in the face.

Seemingly oblivious to her shame, Dorian continued: "And after Maeve, it just got worse. She doesn't talk about it, and it's driving us crazy. We went to help, but we can't.

She tries to hide it, but whatever Maeve did to her, it broke something in her. Once we find out what, oh that b*tch is gonna pay. Nobody shows it that much, but we do all really care about her. Especially Rowan. You should've seen how he cried when Maeve took her. It was the most devastating thing I had ever seen."

He stands up, nodding at them as a farewell.

He finishes: "Aelin means something different to each of us. She's a friend, a wife, a source of swagger and annoyance. But to many of us, she represents a better world. Where rulers are just and fair, and where there's no oppression, poverty, or corruption."

Mor asks, her voice small and guilt-ridden: "Why are you telling us this?"

He turns to her, giving her a small smile: "Because I thought you should know that for almost all of us, Aelin is the reason we fight. It's the reason we hope for a better tomorrow. "

His smile turns cold, vicious.

"And if you insult her, you should get ready to fight a losing War, cause Aela's not the only one that's gonna be pissed. You even say anything remotely insulting about her to anyone, good luck fighting Maeve on your own. Because we stay loyal to her, she's our family, and family stick together."

Clap, clap, clap.

They spin to the doorway for what seemed like the tenth time, and once again, they were surprised to see Aedion there.

He shoots the prince a lazy smile, but there's something in it so heartfelt and genuine that Dorian returns it.

Aedion drawls: "Lovely speech. Did they give you lessons?"

He smirks at Dorian's embarrassed face, but the second he turns to the Night Court his face transforms into something harsh and vicious, every bit the warrior they made him out to be.

He snarls: "Lovely speech yes, and also very very accurate. If I had my way we would've left the moment we found Aelin. But because you're her brother and she cares about you, I stayed. Our relationship, especially with Aelin out of commission right now, is very, very, precarious. So do not test us."

Dorian steps up next to Aedion, his calm and calculative face every bit as terrifying as Aedion's glare.

His tone even, Dorian adds: "Unless you want to see exactly why the cadre, as Aelin calls them, is feared across the lands. We have Lorcan, blessed by the God of Death Hellas himself. Rowan, one of the most powerful Fae to ever walk these lands."

Aedion grins, loving the shit-scared faces of the Night Court.

He continues for Dorian, cutting in smoothly: "If the famed cadre isn't really up to your alley, perhaps you would prefer to deal with Manon and wyvern Abraxos, the White Demon, the Last Crochan Queen and her trusty steed."

"Maybe you would prefer to have fun with Lysandra. Full shapeshifter, fair warning, her favourite form is a ghost leopard, and yes, she has been known to rip into men with nothing but her teeth. We've been trying our best to help her keep her bloodthirsty cravings under wraps."

And so they continue, the pair of them threatening the Night Court, who at that point was so frozen with fear that they're just sitting there and watching them.

Eventually, once they're done, Aedion says: "By the way, we're having a meeting tomorrow. Have a meal, go to sleep, take a bath, do whatever. Just be ready tomorrow."

Chapter Text

--Dorian P.O.V.--

Exiting the room smoothly, both Aedion and I stride confidently down the corridor leading to our rooms, every bit the general and the king we were raised to be.

Just as we come to his room, we stop. A perfect, sudden halt. We turn to look at each other, both of our expressions flat and emotionless.

Then we start laughing.

Through his laughter, Aedion wheezes: "Their faces.................."

I nod, unable to speak. Slowly, our riotous laughter calms, turning into chortling, then the occasional snicker.

Sobering up, I say grimly: "At least now they won't insult Aelin."

He immediately stops his giggling and says viciously: "You have no idea how much I wanted to rip their faces off. Aela told me what they said, I was gonna tear them a new one, but thank you for doing that for me. Love your tactic."

I shrug and say: "It wasn't really a tactic. I just went to tell them how they could help Feyre, and that idiot decided to insult Aelin."

He smiles and replies: "It doesn't really matter. You still stood up for her. I'm happy that she had people like you looking out for her when I didn't."

At the end of the sentence, his tone turns shameful, guilty.

He adds: "Y'know, it'll always be my deepest shame. That she was alive all that time, and I wasn't there for her."

I snort and say: "Well if it makes you feel any better I highly doubt I was the one looking out for her. I'm pretty sure that she saved my life."

He chuckles lightly, the tension between us relieved.

Suddenly, a voice interrupts.

Lysandra's standing there, asking: "Bonding?"

I grin and say: "Yeah. Well, we were doing a bonding activity of sorts. Right Aedion?"

I nudge him, then turn to him, awaiting his answer.

I then notice Aedion's blushing impossibly red, stuttering: "I - uh - I'm - yeah."

Lysandra tilts her head, a satisfied smirk on her face.

She croons: "Cat got your tongue?"

He just blushes deeper, embarrassment lining his face.

I stare at Aedion's very un-Aedion like behaviour, and Lysandra shoots me a completely innocent grin.

She says: "Well, sorry to cut your guy time short, but I gotta borrow Aedion for a while."

Guessing what she wanted to do, I snicker slightly and reply: "Yeah, sure. Have fun lovebirds!"

I walk away wolf-whistling, ignoring Aedion's strangled squawks.

--Aedion's P.O.V.--

I turn to Lysandra, who grins wickedly as she pushes me into a chair.

She gracefully moves into the armchair opposite me, a smug look on her face. She props her elbows onto her lap, then places her head into her hands, studying me.

I shift uncomfortably under her steady gaze, and after a while, she relaxes and asks: "So, how was your talk with Aela?"

Surprised by her question, I answer shakily: "Uh, it went pretty good. She isn't mad at me anymore."

She scoffs at my shocked expression and says with a scowl: "What? Did you expect me to start undressing after what you pulled?"

I stutter: "No! Of course not! I'm sorry if uh I overstepped my boundaries and I-"

She cut me off: "Yeah, you did overstep your boundaries. But I'm willing to overlook that, so tell me what you were going to say."

I nod gratefully and say: "I wanted to say that I'm sorry for how I treated you all those months. I know it wasn't your fault Aelin was captured, it was Maeve's, and Lorcan's, to some extent, so if I was pissed at anyone it should be at them. But they weren't there, and I was upset that you allowed Aelin to form such a crazy plan that I took out my anger on you, even if most of it was undeserved. I really, truly am sorry."

She stares at me with an unreadable expression, but her face breaks out into a lovely smile and she says: "I forgive you. In hindsight, I did know that if everything went to plan, you would find out, and you would be pissed."

She pauses for a moment, a sorrowful look on her face. I fight the urge to hug and comfort her and wait for her to continue.

"I'm sorry for being so petty, I guess to some extent I knew that your anger towards me wasn't really rightfully deserved, and I was just angry that you were still furious at me after I tried to talk to you."

I whisper quietly: "I'm sorry for being such a jerk."

She smiles prettily and says: "As I said, I forgive you. For anything and everything you've done."

I finally cave in to the urge and hug her tightly. She stiffens a little, but she relaxes into it slowly.

I mumble into her shoulder: "Thank you."

She places her arms around me in answer.

Eventually, I pull away, not wanting to cause her discomfort. To my surprise, instead of relief shining in her eyes, there's a flicker of disappointment.

It disappears as quickly as it came, and I dismiss it, thinking of it nothing more than wishful thinking.

But..... she did kiss me back just now. I shut down the shred of hope before it can fully form, not wanting it to turn into something more.

We start chatting casually until a peaceful, serene, silence falls.

Abruptly, I blurt out: "I love you."

A startled expression appears on her face, and before she can say anything, I continue swiftly: "I'm sorry if you don't feel the same way, but I've felt this way a long time, and I'm just realising it now. I just wanted to tell you now, in case we don't survive whatever happens soon. I just know I would hate it if either of us died and I didn't tell you how I really felt."

I stop rambling and look at her. She's blushing deeply, but not saying anything.

Assuming the blush is from her embarrassment, I say: "Oh gods, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. It's okay if you don't feel the same way, I'm fine with us just being friends, just forget it. I'm so sorry."

She stands up and says softly: "Aedion, you don't need to be sorry."

"Why?"

Without saying a word, she pulls me up into a gentle kiss. I melt into it, placing my arms around her waist, her threading her fingers through my hair in response.

After several, blissful, seconds, she pulls away and breathes: "Because I love you too."

Chapter Text

--Aedion's P.O.V.--

"Really?"

She snorts and says: "No, I absolutely hate you."

I pout playfully and she gives me a shove. She leans in for another kiss, but right before our lips meet, a hurried banging comes from the door.

I groan and call out: "Come in!"

The door flies open revealing a terrified and frantic Elide.

"What happened?" I demand, shooting up immediately.

"It's Aelin. It's bad Aedion. Oh God, it's so bad."

I stare at her, frozen with horror, but next to me, Lysandra springs into action.

She runs out the door, prompting me to do the same.

Lysandra shifts into a ghost leopard, and Elide hops onto her back, the two of them moving swiftly.

Eventually, we reach the room. Rowan is there, panting wildly, pure undiluted fear in his eyes. He's holding her arms pinned to the side, trying to stop her from moving.

I look and realise with horror that three deep slashes were present on her stomach. The edges were tinged with a bit of blue, the veins popping up around them. The blood was gushing out, the crimson liquid filling the room with a coppery scent that made me sick to my stomach.

I snap at Rowan: "Heal her!"

Next to me, Elide carefully slides off Lysandra's back, taking care to land on her good foot. She grabs a piece of gauze and applies gentle pressure on her wounds, trying to staunch the bleeding.

Placing a bit of salve on the wound, she explains: "He can't. When he tries, the magic just reflects off. There's like a shield or a coating around her."

Lysandra asks: "Are his hands..... blistering?"

Elide nods: "She's burning him, he's coating his hands with a thick shield of air, but it's taking a lot of energy to bypass the shield. Too much energy to be a good sign."

I growl viciously: "Erawan."

After giving Aelin a quick once over to make sure she's mostly fine, I turn to Lysandra and say: "Alright, we need a healer. A non-magical one, just to make sure her wounds aren't infected or anything. She'll also need stitches. Find Aela, see if she knows what's happening."

Rowan adds urgently: "Get Dorian. I don't know how much longer I can keep this up."

Lysandra shifts into a cheetah, but Elide asks timidly: "What about Rhysand? He's her brother."

I run my hands over my face and say: "Fine. But get him last."

Lysandra nods and sprints away.

Not long after, Aela arrives.

I demand: "Well?"

She says in a calm and composed voice: "I need to see her, then I need to do some research."

--Aela's P.O.V.--

Trying my best to keep calm, I manoeuvre my way past Aedion and walk towards Aelin.

A strange shimmer is coating her and identifying the type of shield used, I say softly: "Move aside Prince."

He shakes his head, straining his magic.

"Only Dorian would be strong enough."

I repeat firmly: "Move aside Rowan. You're on the verge of a burnout."

He snaps: "You're not powerful enough!"

His voice is hysterical, close to insane.

Keeping my voice emotionless and flat, I reply: "Need I remind you, Whitethorn, that as an Ashryver, Deanna's blood runs through my veins?"

"You're very distantly related to her."

He groans, the toll of forcing his power through the shield taking its effect on him.

I sigh and direct my power in thin, focused streaks, guiding them to twirl around her wrists, creating intricate bracelets of pure magic binding her hands to her sides, unseeable to all except me.

As if sensing what I did, he lets go of her slowly, awe filling his face.

"How?"

I shoot him a small smile, wrapping even more magic around her pale wrists and punning her to the bed.

"I was trained by Deanna herself, studying the ancient art of magic. Magic is powerful, but in the hands of an amateur, it is nothing. Deanna used to run an institute, the most accomplished magicians trained there. You have gotten admirably far in your magic on your own, but there you would be considered a mere fledgeling. I was Deanna's protégé, she named me her heir. You and your court outshine me by far in the amount of magic you possess Rowan, but you lack the skills needed to wield it properly. Even a peasant's amount of magic would be enough to rule the entire universe if mastered completely. But there are a few who have a decent understanding and control over their magic, and even fewer that are willing to teach. I was lucky to have found Deanna."

I gesture to Aelin and say: "This shield is a form of ancient magic. Very old, forgotten by most, and nearly invulnerable, making it very useful to protect those weaker in battle. Magic can be used for good and bad, and magic always has a weakness. Magic is balance. Thus is the way of the universe."

He nods attentively, then asks with hope lining his voice: "Could you heal her?"

I shake my head despondently: "To penetrate this shield, you need incredibly thin strands of magic. You only managed to go through the shield because of the amount of magic you have. To get to the level where I had such precise control on my magic took me four hundred and twenty-three years, and then another fifty to get it consistent. But this doesn't work with all magics. Healing magic is different, you need to blanket the entire wound in a layer of magic at once, and because this wound is so large it'll be impossible."

He slumps in disappointment, but I'm not finished: "Luckily, the Night court has an excellent non-magical healer, Madja. I told Lys to go straight to Rhys, Madja should be arriving soon."

Aedion deadpans: "That is if that idiot Rhysand has any sense."

I nod, scowling murderously when I remember what they said about Aelin. I turn to Aelin, letting out a sigh of relief when I see that the bleeding has somewhat stopped.

Rowan tilts his head and asks curiously: "Why are you guys so pissed at Rhysand?"

I whirl back to him, saying in surprise: "Oh. You didn't know."

I quickly fill him in on what they accused Aelin of doing. Aedion adds his story, leaving me feeling utterly horrified and bloodthirsty when I heard what else they'd said about Aelin.

Upon seeing my face, he says with a small smile: "I hope that your very violent urges will be erased when you hear what Dorian and I did."

He proceeds to tell us in great detail what he and Dorian threatened the pathetic excuse of a court with, which causes a highly amused smile to appear on my face.

Rowan has been staying stoic and unreadable the entire time, but when Aedion finishes, he hisses: "I'm gonna f*cking kill those bastards."

A few beats of silence.

"Is my sister okay? I brought Madja!"

Well, they're f*cked.

Chapter Text

Rhysand comes sprinting in, followed by Madja, Azriel, Cassian, and Mor, the latter who had a slightly shameful look on her face.

Madja glances at the tense expressions before darting to Aelin's side, swiftly examining and treating the wound.

Rowan roars: "HOW DARE YOU? HOW DARE YOU FLING SUCH ACCUSATIONS IN HER FACE? AFTER SHE HAS RISKED EVERYTHING?"

Mor swallows the rising guilt and retorts back defiantly: "Yes, but you would do well to remember both these enemies were from your world."

Aedion jumps in, letting out a dry laugh: "Yes, and that's the only reasons my queen has ordered us to stay. Originally, I thought it was because Rhysand was her brother, but the way he treated her has clearly shown us otherwise."

I voice out quietly from a corner: "Aedion, his mate isn't doing well either. You saw how that affected Rowan. Lay off him."

I turn to Mor, my eyes taking on a cold look.

"And you're wrong Mor. I did some research. Turns out, the Valg came from this planet. After Maeve left Orcus, he went to search for her, eventually getting stranded on a deserted planet. Mantyx was consumed by grief, turning into what we know as the King of Hybern."

Mor flushes slightly with embarrassment, before stating: "That changes nothing."

Dorian growls: "That changes everything. We have nothing but brought you the war that truly belonged to you. We shall take Aelin and make preparations to leave."

Cassian protests: "But Rhys is Aelin's brother!"

Manon steps up to Dorian's side and points to Aelin, saying: "She took care of Erawan. That's more than we owe you."

Mor scans the harsh faces of our court, searching for a chink in the unforgiving armour we put up. Her eyes linger on mine, shame and guilt flashing on her face.

Lysandra says coldly: "You guys should go. Start preparing for a War."

Elide agrees, telling Rowan: "Rowan, can you please go and prepare the portal? Someone needs to tell the High Lords we're leaving."

"No."

Fenrys strides up to Rowan and growls: "No? Rowan we need to go. We can find Yrene, she could help Aelin!"

"No." he repeats flatly "Despite how Rhysand's treated her, she still considers him family, and she never turns her back on family. Besides, I think Aela feels the same."

Everyone swivels towards me, and with a sigh, I say: "Look, guys, if you want to leave, sure, I won't stop you. But I'm staying. They were my family for hundreds of years, and I think I owe them that much."

Aedion eventually nods, and slinging an arm around me, he says: "Fine, I'll stay. For Aelin and for you."

I smile at him in thanks, and one by one, each of the court agrees, some of them with a glare or with a menacing snarl.

Slowly, they all trickle out of the room, leaving Madja, Elide, Rowan, Aedion, and I behind.

Rowan lifts an arm and gently caresses Aelin's cheek. Tears stream down his face, and Aedion sighs, and squeezes her arm.

Elide says softly: "Why don't you guys get some breakfast?"

She glances up and checks the clock, saying: "We have two hours before the meeting, and you two haven't eaten anything."

Rowan nods, kissing Aelin's forehead tenderly before wearily walking away.

Aedion slumps into Rowan's previously vacated chair, not making a move to go out the door.

"Aedion," I begin "you need rest. You haven't eaten or slept. I'll stay with Madja and Elide."

He looks up at me, exhaustion etched on his features.

"Nor have you."

"Even if that's the case, which it's not, I don't look like a walking corpse. You need to sleep. For all your talk to Rowan about resting you haven't gotten a wink of sleep. Go. I need to stay here, my magic's holding Aelin down."

"Aela," he begins patronisingly

"Sleep." I say "I took a nap earlier, and I had a very early breakfast. Go Aedion."

Finally, he gives up, accepting his defeat and making his way out of the room.

--Third Person P.O.V.--

"Alright," Theron begins, looking around the room "As Aelin is currently unavailable, I shall be leading this meeting."

The High Lord rakes his gaze over his fellow colleagues, and aside from a few mutters of dissent, they remained silent.

A satisfied smile gracing his face, he continues: "Firstly, how is the Queen doing?"

He glances at Rowan, but it's Elide who answers.

"She's still unconscious, and her condition has worsened. Erawan is attacking her mind, which is manifesting in a physical response. At first, we healed her, but Erawan shielded her, making it impossible for us to heal her with magic. Madja's been treating her, and Aela's magic has been stopping her from causing herself more harm."

Elijah, the new High Lord of the Spring Court, asks worriedly: "What are the chances of her waking up?"

Aela sighs, but answers: "It's incredibly unlikely as of right now. Her mind is still weak from her time with Maeve, so unless she suddenly has a boost of power right now, it is likely she won't make it."

A sombre mood fills the room, and Rhysand, with his head bowed down, can't help but feel guilt that to save his mate, he took another's away. Tears were pouring down Rowan's face, but still, he lifted it, his expression unreadable.

Theron flashes a sympathetic look in Rowan's direction, but it was received with nothing but a curt nod.

Nevertheless, Theron asks Rhysand: "We do not have good chances of winning this War. Has Feyre revealed anything that may help us?"

Mor shakes her head, saying: "Feyre is.... not in a good place right now. Whenever we go near her, she starts whimpering, shouting."

Not bothering to hide his disdain for the Night Court, Lorcan scowls and says: "So we have nothing."

Rhysand gives a short nod, wondering what on Prythian Lorcan was trying to imply.

Lorcan sneers: "So we should have just killed Feyre. Aelin would be better suited to taking down Maeve, not some...."

He trails off, waiting until his eyes linger on Mor's before spitting out: "invalid."

Cassian jumps at Lorcan, but he's stopped by a blade at his neck.

Lorcan casts a cold gaze at him and snarls: "Don't you dare."

Fenrys speaks up: "Enough. Look, we've all been through wars. Maybe in the long term, Aelin made the right choice, but we won't live to see that day. We all know that right now if we killed Feyre and we still had Aelin we would have better chances of winning."

Ignoring the growls erupting from the Night Court, Beron adds: "Plus she's been digging into that well of hers's for ages now."

Rowan turns a startled expression towards him, asking: "What?"

Beron shrugs, slightly intimidated by the Fae prince.

"We both have fire magic, we're very in tune with each others magic. At first, I thought she was just that powerful, but the magic was too close to the surface, plus it kept increasing day by day. Guessing by how much she has I'll say she's been harnessing her power for a bit more than two months.

Aedion whispers: "For Maeve's killing blow."

The whisper carries throughout the room, echoing and bouncing off the walls.

Slowly, murmurs begin to arise. All the courts were starting to think that Feyre should have been sacrificed instead. Even Cassian.

Noticing the change in his attitude, Mor hisses: "Cassian! Get your head on straight!"

Cassian says placatingly: "Look, as much as I don't want it to be true they're right. We gave away our biggest weapon in return for Feyre, who, as much as I hate to say it, is pretty much useless right now. We've fought enough battles to know what we did wasn't the best move tactically."

Mor yells: "SO? CASSIAN THIS IS OUR HIGH LADY WE'RE TALKING ABOUT! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WOULD-"

"Enough." Theron's calm yet commanding voice cuts across Mor.

Theron says to Rhysand distastefully: "Control your court please."

He turns to the room at large and says: "We can't dwell on the past. What's done is done. Right now, we need to focus. It's time."

Horrified, Kallias whispers: "Surely you don't mean that-"

"Yes, I do." his grim voice causes many to gasp in disbelief "An army led by Maeve is heading for the Dawn Court. The final stand approaches."

Chapter Text

They start screaming loudly, bemoaning their fates, but Rowan yells: "ENOUGH! STOP ACTING LIKE F*CKING CHILDREN!"

Their cries subdue, a few of them looking thoroughly chastised.

Aedion rolls out a map of the Dawn Court, frayed at the edges and marked with several layers of ink.

He points to the map and says: "We've been preparing for this for ages now. Aelin started making notes when we first got here, and the rest we added after making some observations. We are to call for all available help."

Lorcan adds crudely: "We don't f*cking care if it leaves any courts defenceless, if the Dawn Court falls it's the end of Prythian. So get your priorities straight."

Gavriel continues: "What's probably going to happen is that the Valg are going to come first, then the commanders and the princes. Then that f*cking b*tch Maeve. We've been expecting this, and we already prepared a plan."

Fenrys, who was examining the map, says sharply: "You all have abnormally long sticks up your a*sses, and in all honesty, I hate you guys and I couldn't really care less if all of you were to drop dead right now. Actually, I would really like it, seeing as a few of you have been insulting my Queen. In front of members of her court as well as behind our backs, so yes, I would love to see you all die violent and painful deaths. "

He pauses, ignoring the looks of alarm and squawks of offence.

"But," he says with an annoyed sigh "I don't think my Queen would like it if she woke up in a graveyard, so it's time to ignore that. We've fought in countless wars. We can think up flawless battle plans on the spot. And we've been coming up with this one for weeks."

He glares at each of them, the White Wolf of Doranelle coming out to play.

"Now, we have a goddamn plan, and we will f*cking stick to it. So I don't goddamn care if you guys were the f*cking kings or whatever, you will listen to us. Aedion, Rowan, let's get the traps ready."

The pair gives him swift nods and walk out of the room, leaving the rest of the court to prepare the soldiers and deal with the whining toddlers that called themselves the High Lords of Prythian.

-------------------

The soldiers marched onto the battlefield in straight lines, each and every one of them ready to lay down their lives. The cadre had decided to stick together for now, surveying the army gathered.

As their plan had noted, Aedion stood tall at the front, giving orders to the soldiers and fixing any minor inconveniences. The cadre lurked near the back, ready to watch the battle and patch up whatever holes their plan had and deal with any surprises.

Just as they were finally ready, a steady beat comes, the sound of war drums.

GONG

GONG

GONG

The sound echoes through the large space, causing a few of the soldiers to buckle at the knees.

Lorcan wrinkles his nose, commenting: "They're about five seconds from pissing themselves."

Fenrys growls, pulling his bow back, the animosity between them not forgotten.

Gavriel peers at the trembling soldiers, sighing at the fear practically radiating off them.

Rather helplessly, he asks: "What are we supposed to do? Give a speech?"

Lorcan sneers at Fenrys, saying: "Pretty boy should do it."

Suddenly, deciding to deviate from the plan, one of the braver soldiers charges forward at the oncoming army, yelling a battle cry.

Rowan palms one of his battle axes, hissing: "Stupid fool."

Before he makes it three feet, an arrow sails towards his chest, plunging into it with a squelch.

He falls on his back, falling onto the ground with a loud thud. The blood oozes out his wound, the gushing red liquid staining the cobblestone streets of the once picturesque town.

The first blood of a War.

Aela mutters sarcastically: "Great. We're all bloody inspired."

Rowan ignores her, saying instead: "We have no time for big fancy speeches. Just show them what we can do."

Aela nods, the fire returning to her eyes.

Beckoning Lorcan and Elide forward, she places her slender hands on their shoulders, sending them encouraging smiles.

She whispers softly: "For my Queen."

She takes a deep breath, using her Fae senses to inhale the rich, earthy scent of magic.

Imagining every ounce of magic in her core flowing through her body, the magic of Deanna's blessed travelled out her fingertips, straight into the blessed of Hellas and Anneith.

She floats into the air, her hands remaining on their shoulders, a shimmering haze glimmering on her, her magic a halo upon her head.

Her black hair flows freely behind her, her raven locks stark against the glimmering white orb hanging in the sky.

Night.

When the magic of the Goddess who blessed her was the most vulnerable, the most accessible, the most powerful.

Her eyes snap open, glowing with power.

A small smile gracing her lips, she chants: " Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos!"

--------------

As they watch the Lady of the Isle of the Stars, they can't help but feel utter reverence for the amount of magic displayed.

From her hands flow a black mist, with twines of glimmering silver and green through it.

As the mist touches the Valg, they start writhing in agony, falling to the floor.

The High Lords look at the corpses, most of them suppressing a shudder.

Bones jutting out of swelling flesh, necks bent at odd angles, they all die painful, gory, deaths.

"The Death Mist." Hellion murmurs, studying the gruesome sight before him, "The Death Mist, one of the abilities of the God Hellas himself."

"And even more powerful, seeing as it's blessed by Anneith and Deanna."

Behind them, her green eyes alight with awe, stood Lysandra.

Hellion tilts his head in question, curious why these Gods would be so helpful.

Lysandra explains: "Lorcan is Hellas's blessed, Elide is Anneith's, and Aela is Deanna's. Hellas, the wielder of the Death Mist. Anneith, the goddess of slow and bloodthirsty deaths."

A small, sadistic smile appearing on her face, she continues: "The spell was cast by Deanna's favoured, under the moonlight. Because of that, the spell is increased tenfold."

She gestured to the scene, and with a mocking bow, she says: "Enjoy the show."

-------------

On the other side of the battlefield, Fenrys reaches into his sheathe, closing his fingers around a golden arrow.

Just as they were about to leave for Prythian, Nesryn had pressed the arrow into the palm of his hand, knowing he was the archer of the group.

"Why?" he had asked, knowing that Aelin had gifted it to her.

She simply shrugged and said: "I have this feeling that you'll be seeing a lot of Deanna during your trip. It's blessed by Deanna."

Her eyes narrowed at him scrutinizingly before finding whatever she was looking for, lips breaking into a wide smile.

She turned to the group at large, saying with a large grin: "Best of luck, favoured of the gods."

She sent him one final nod, turning away and smiling mysteriously.

He had accepted the arrow, but he still hadn't understood her cryptic messaging.

Now, he did,

Not hesitating once, he places the arrow on the bow and draws it backwards.

Pointing it in the direction of the Valg Prince, he lets go, the gold reflecting the moonlight.

As the symbol of Deanna flies across the battlefield in a perfect arc, meeting its mark with a stunning accuracy, Fenrys can't help but grin, knowing for the first time in his very long life, the Goddess of the Hunt was on his side.

Chapter Text

--Rhysand--

I pant as I survey the battlefield.

Gruesome corpses litter the ground, the stench of death ever-present.

The sounds of War filters into my ear, the cries, the whimpers, the squelches of arrows and swords meeting their mark.

I have to admit, I'm impressed. The odds had evened drastically as Aelin's court had stepped in, especially with the cadre. They were one silent, impenetrable unit, moving undetected around the battlefield, helping where they were needed.

They broke off into little groups, but they always found their way back to each other.

As I watch, Fenrys shoots an arrow, then begins to engage a trio of Valg. An arrow flies towards him, but he ducks with a stunning ease before moving back towards the rest of the cadre, his steps never faltering.

What was it Elide had said, all those days ago?

The cadre are excellent fighters in their own right, but Aelin will always triumph over them.

The way they fight will change the tides of battles, but if Aelin was better....... she might have won us this one.

The guilt eating at me finally consumes me, and I can't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, we should have sacrificed Feyre.

The thought of hurting my mate immediately sends a jolt of fear through me, and I realise that all of this was my fault. If I had just gone up with Feyre that night, none of this would have happened.

A touch jolts me out of my downward spiral, and I turn to see Gavriel standing there, an uncharacteristically angry look on his usually calm and composed face.

He snaps harshly: "Listen. I know you blame yourself for Feyre, but you couldn't have done anything."

The cold truth hits me right on the face.

I couldn't have done anything.

The very thought sends me into yet another wallowing pit of despair.

~Useless~

My head screams at me.

~Helpless~

A resounding slap draws me out of my thoughts, my cheek stinging.

I gape at him, floored.

He continues: "But you can do something now. So stop standing there like a f*cking moron and start fighting."

My resolve strengthened, I extend my wings and soar into the air, flying to where Cassian is commanding the Illyrian troops.

He turns to me, a vaguely surprised look on his face, and asks: "You okay?"

I nod wordlessly, and he pats me on the back and says: "Good. C'mon."

He soars forward, and I follow close behind, the army of winged Fae trailing after us.

In a practised dive, we plummet smoothly as one, landing right in the middle of the cluster of Valg, taking them by surprise.

The next hour is a blur.

We slash, stab, and duck, ignoring the cries and moans of the fallen.

Aela's death mist had helped greatly, and that in itself took out a good chunk of the enemy.

Suddenly, a cry comes: "WE DID IT!"

I snap out of my red haze, turning to look at the soldier.

"We did it!" he repeats, as if in a daze.

The surrounding soldiers start to echo his call, chants of victory and triumph filling the air.

A feminine voice comes: "Well isn't this cute."

I spin to see a woman, dark and beautiful.

Maeve.

Her long raven locks frame her unblemished face, a contrast against her moon-white skin.

She glides towards us, her every move calculated and precise.

Turns her head to face me, she murmurs softly: "Oh the irony."

She raises her voice, allowing it to occupy the large space.

"Who would've thought? Instead of facing Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius, the heir of Fire herself, I get to have a little face-off with her very own brother, the oh so mighty High Lord of the Night court."

She giggles, the sound strangely sweet and innocent.

"At least Aelin would've been a worthy opponent. Instead, you chose to protect your darling mate. Did I tell you about my time with Aelin?"

Aedion growls, his Ashryver eyes flashing with the promise of murder.

She ignores the general prince, choosing to continue in her lilting voice: "Aelin fought so hard. Months I had her, months of filling her head with images of torture. I spun the strangest realities, pushed her to the brink of death. She came so close to breaking. But she never did."

"And Feyre, oh sweet Feyre. A few days, was all it took, a few simple little images and she broke, so quick, so fast."

She flashes a smirk, saying: "Imagine my surprise when I heard that the clever and powerful High Lords of Prythian threw away their only hope of winning the war for a crippled, useless, girl."

She grins, lifting a hand. She clenches it together to form a loose fist.

Above us, the sky darkens, the soft baby blue turning a deep midnight blue.

She chuckles at our alarmed faces and says: "A few centuries ago, I read this absolutely lovely book series called Harry Potter. It was an amazing story, and it was very very creative. There was this fantastic creature called the dementor, and I was so inspired, that I created a little something to mimic the effects of the Dementor's kiss."

I look at her blankly, wondering if her mind has truly snapped.

I hear a soft, terrified gasp coming from behind me.

I turn and see Dorian standing there, an absolutely horrified look on his pale face.

A highly amused expression on her face, Maeve says: "Ah. Dorian knows what I'm talking about. Care to share with the class?"

He sends her an ugly scowl, then says hoarsely: "It sucks out your soul. A fate worse than death."

"But that's not all," Lorcan murmurs contemplatively, "there's something else."

Maeve laughs and claps her hands together in glee.

"Fantastic!" she squeals "You always were my most loyal servant. Tell me. What do you think I plan to do?"

Fenrys snaps his fingers together in victory, stating: "A world full of soulless Fae. You plan to control us."

She grins wickedly, saying with a tilt of her head: "Good. Very good. Oh, if only you were more loyal, we could've painted the world in red. Instead, you chose to follow a fire breathing b*tch queen."

He snarls, but she holds up a hand, placating him.

"But," she declares "I've decided to give you an ultimatum. You see, I'm not particularly fond of Prythian, it is where I escaped from after all. So, if any one of you can defeat me in a fight to the death, my troops will leave you be. If you don't, the net of darkness comes down, you all die, and yada yada yada."

Cassian says flatly: "You have no troops."

She smirks: "Don't I?"

She snaps her fingers, and lo and behold, right in front of us, appears thousands and thousands of Valg.

We all stand, speechless.

She grins and asks: "So? Who's it gonna be?"

A voice comes: "How 'bout me?"

Chapter Text

--Aelin--

The second our bloodied palms connected, I knew I had made the right choice. The darkness was festering, weakening the already frail High Lady of the Night Court.

A few more days and I knew for certain that the darkness would have manifested physically, and just like that, our only hope of winning this seemingly impossible war with have disappeared, a candle flame being blown out.

I had made my choice.

And I was glad I did.

I groaned as agony struck, pure, undiluted darkness coursing through my veins.

I slumped on the cool stone floor of the dungeon, fighting desperately to keep awake, willing my eyes to stay open.

I heard the thumps of footsteps echoing throughout the dungeon, the sound of panicked voices filtering into my eardrum.........

And I knew no more.

--Third Person P.O.V.--

She awoke, chained to a wall, her muscles aching.

A gleeful laugh filled the room, and she shuddered from the pure darkness radiating through the room. Sensing a presence, she shut her eyes, holding on to the futile wish that she would make it through this.

Because that was all it was. A wish that would never come true.

A soft hand caressed her cheek, and her eyes snapped open, staring into the onyx eyes of the Valg King.

He had gorgeous aristocratic features; flawless, creamy skin and high cheekbones. His lips were pulled up in a smirk, and if not for the wickedness in that smirk, he would have passed off as normal.

Well, as normal as you can get with ethereal beauty and saturated darkness that surrounded you completely.

But still.

Normal.

How could this demon, this creature who was evil personified, pass off as normal?

So frighteningly normal?

And that was what caused the blood flowing through her veins to turn ice cold.

His hand stroked her cheek reverently, the touch soft and gentle. He smiled at her, his eyes kind and friendly, veiling the darkness that lurked beneath.

Suddenly, she felt a stinging pain in her skull. She ignored it, choosing instead to focus on the finger brushing her cheek. He repeated the motion, his smile lingering, looking every bit as genuine as it did at the start.

The pain spiked, the mild, insignificant throbbing turning into the most excruciating pain she had ever felt.

She fought hard, trying not to scream, hoping to escape with her pride intact. A few stray whimpers bubbled up her throat, slipping past her bleeding lip, she was biting it in an effort to stay quiet.

If possible, his smile stretched even wider, grinning with unrestrained malice as the pain increased.

Eventually, she snapped.

She screamed, the all-consuming pain too intense for her to bother with a fickle thing like pride anymore.

White-hot knives piercing into her eyes, she thrashed against her restraints in her agony, caution flying out the window.

The creature of darkness crooned gently: "Shhhhhhh, shhhhhhhhh. Don't make a sound."

Slowly the pain lessened, allowing her to organize her thoughts. She was distantly aware of the warm liquid flowing down her cheek, his finger wiping it off as more took its place.

He lifted his finger, the pain finally ceasing, allowing her to slump in relief. His finger was coated in the thick liquid, and he ran it along his tongue, basking in the coppery taste of her blood.

He sent her a wicked grin and murmured: "Soon. Enjoy your stay, my dear."

And she fell into darkness.

-----------

When she awoke for the second time she felt herself in a familiar scene.

A sense of déjà vu rolled over her, setting off alarm bells in her head.

She craned her neck, desperately trying to find something, anything, that told her she wasn't back.

Back where she had screamed her lungs out, back where she had felt pure agony, back where she was weak, broken.

But she was back.

And when the door clanged open, the sound bringing nothing than nothing could have stopped the shiver that ran down her spine.

Chapter Text

She screamed, the sound heart wrenchingly awful.

"I'm not back," she sobbed "I'm not."

"Aren't you?" questioned a gleeful voice

A knife plunged into her back and she arched back, groaning at the pain.

Her nerves were on fire, the pain so fiery, so all-consuming. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she drank down the shout that bubbled up her throat. She bit her lip, drawing blood, her taste buds grimacing at the coppery taste.

The shadows shifted, the voiceless, nameless mass taking the form of a silver-haired fae prince.

"Rowan!" she cried, her voice trembling with relief "You're here."

He merely growled, stalking towards her and circling her, the way a predator watches prey. She finally took notice of the bloodied whip clenched in his arm.

Her eyes widened in fear, whispering softly: "Rowan?"

He ignored her, lifting the whip and drawing it down sharply onto her back with a resounding crack.

She screamed.

Inside her, her heart broke as she watched the face of the man she loved stab daggers of ice into her back.

His features morphed, pine green eyes changing into clear blue and gold. His cropped silver hair grew out, turning into soft golden locks. His features softened, his sharp jawline rounding slightly, his skin paling lightly.

He now wore the face of her cousin.

"Aedion," she whispered, her voice shaking again, this time with fear, anticipating what was to come.

"Aelin." his voice was soft, almost gentle, and her eyes widened, wondering if this was truly her cousin.

"Aedion!" she cried "Aedion, is it you?"

He sneered at her, spitting viciously: "Pathetic."

He circled her, stalking closer and closer.

"Failure."

He glared before saying:

"It's your fault. Everything is. You were weak. You had power, yet you cowered. You refused to fight, leaving the innocent, helpless citizens of Terrasen to fight when you should have."

His eyes were hard, observing as she flinched involuntarily when reminded of her failures.

"Disgusting," he said bitterly.

And when he began slowly marking her skin with a blade, well, all she could think about was the words that ran through her head.

"I hate you"

---------------------

Aelin cried as he left. She knew she should feel happy, glad that she had a reprieve from the mind-numbing pain, but every word he spoke was like a physical blow.

The tears still trickling down her cheek, she laughed, the sound sounding hysterical even to her. She shook her head, the smile on her face haunting and miserable.

He knew exactly where to hit, and why wouldn't he?

They had grown up closer than most siblings were, sure, they bickered and argued like mortal enemies, but it was always over stupid, inconsequential things, and their arguments never lasted long.

They loved each other, and they had confided in each other, something that hadn't changed after meeting up after all those years.

She closed her eyes, remembering how he had acted.

The way he had sneered, the upward tilt of the lips, was identical to the one he had worn a few days ago when talking about the High Lords of Prythian.

He was, in every way, her cousin. But he wasn't. For she knew that despite the coldness and loathing, despite the sadistic bastard he was, there was always an underlying tenderness, the kindness that would shine in his eyes, however muted.

And Rowan. Her silver-haired Fae prince. He might have always been a cold-hearted prick, but after he came to Adarlan and after he saw who she was, all versions of her, he had always spoken to her with love, even though they hadn't realised it.

Rightly so, for he was her mate.

Mate.

Mine.

The words rang through her head, and she growled lowly.

She could feel her fire blazing under her skin, her anger reaching new heights.

The door opened, and Erawan stalked in, this time wearing the form of Rhysand.

Her fury reached its peak as she took in the form of her little brother.

His cropped, blue-black hair, his violet irises flecked with silver, the tattoos trailing up his arm.

Her glorious cinders dancing among her bloodied fingers, she burned the shackles holding her in place, the metal melting where it was in contact with her skin.

She bolted up, her fire dancing around her. Erawan's eyes widened as he took in the sight before him.

The gold circling her irises were glowing with power, her long golden locks straightening before lifting into the air. Her fire danced between her palms, singing loudly to a tune only Aelin could hear.

She closed her eyes, hearing the merry crackling of the fire surrounding her, feeling a familiar calm surround her.

Her limbs loosened, her muscles relaxing, the pain nothing more than a distant buzzing as she fell into a relaxed stance.

She felt the blood stop rushing towards her head stop, her pulse stop racing as she slowly morphed an army of blades out of the white-hot fire.

She lazily cracked an eyelid open, and the sadistic smile that twisted her lips was one that would send grown men running for the hills.

It was the last thing countless men and women had seen before they took their last breath, and it would be the last thing Erawan would ever see.

-----------------

She took slow, measured steps to the demon, grinning sadistically as she saw the demon cringe.

She walked right up to him, saying with a bright smile: "Not my brother you son of a b*tch."

-------------------

The scream that filled her ears was one that she would remember for the rest of her life.

When Rhysand would look into her mind, he would hear the most ear grating sound he had ever heard. It was indescribable, the most inhuman, horrifying sound one would hear. The sound was reminiscent of monsters and demons and was frankly terrifying. The sound was the purest form of evil, sending shivers down his spine.

On the other hand, to Aelin, the sound was the sweetest thing she had ever heard. It was like hearing toddlers giggle and play on the street, it sent sparks of joy and happiness through her, the sound reminding her of her triumph and victory.

---------------

She opened her eyes, stretching, wincing as she felt a particularly deep wound on her abdomen.

She glanced around the room, wondering where everyone was before the sound of battle filled her ears.

She shot up, running to the window, her eyes widening as she saw Maeve standing in front of a bruised and battered army. At the very front, she could see Rowan's silver hair flashing in the moonlight, and she gasped as she saw a net of darkness overhead.

She ran from the room, stripping and pulling on armour as fast as she could.

---------------

She arrived just in time to hear the tail end of Maeve's super-villain monologue.

"So, if any one of you can defeat me in a fight to the death, my troops will leave you be. If you don't, the net of darkness comes down, you all die, and yada yada yada."

Aein rolled her eyes, the arrogant b*tch thought too highly of herself.

Cassian interjects flatly: "You have no troops."

Her lips stretch out into a beaming smile: "Don't I?"

Aelin gaped as she saw the mass of Valgs that filled the expense of land.

She grins and asks: "So? Who's it gonna be?"

She collected herself, stepping forward and asking: "How 'bout me?"

Chapter Text

I stare defiantly at Maeve, ignoring the gasps that ensue from the battered and bruised army.

Her cruel smile falters for a moment, but she quickly regains her composure, saying cockily: "Not bad. Not bad at all niece. You beat Erawan."

Her eyes trail over the visible scratches lining my arms and she smirks, commenting: "But not unscathed it seems."

I bare my teeth in a snarl and say: "Enough. You want to fight, let's fight."

I glance at her warily, my mind working quickly, trying to identify any tricks she would be pulling.

"How do I know that when I beat you your troops will retreat," I ask finally.

"Their life force is tied to mine," she explains "If I die, so do they,"

I narrow my eyes, saying firmly: "Swear it on your life and your magic."

She clicks her tongue, asking haughtily: "Who do you think you are? Ordering me around when you are nothing but the scum beneath my feet."

Next to me, Rhysand, shaking off his shock, growls: "Swear it."

She scowls, the look ugly on her flawless features.

Reluctantly, she slips into the Old Language, swearing: "I swear that what I have spoken to Queen Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius is the truth and purely the truth as I know it. If what I speak is not the pure truth, take my life and magic as forfeit. This I affirm, this I swear, may Magic prove my words."

A slight glow, and she grins before lifting an arm, her hauntingly beautiful shadow magic coiling around her arm.

"So, tell me Aelin Galathynius. Do you accept my challenge?" she asks mockingly.

I swallow tightly before saying: "I do."

She grins, the wicked twist of her lips marring her face.

She raises an arm, and the Valg shuffle backwards.

She sends me a poisonously sweet smile and simpers: "Can't have any outside interference."

I don't reply, deciding to simply just gesture the Fae backwards.

Rowan steps forward, protective as always, saying pleadingly: "Aelin, please, you don't have to-"

"Oh, but she does" crows Maeve, a smirk dancing on her lips "She agreed to an official challenge. If she backs out, she dies!"

Rowan

I stare at her, begging her to save herself.

She smiles softly at me, the small quirk of her lips a despondent, broken thing.

"I'm sorry." she whispers.

She presses her lips to mine, the moment fleeting and quick, then draws back, murmuring against my lips: "I love you."

Aedion crashes forward, pulling her in a tight hug.

She smiles weakly, hesitantly embracing him before saying: "It's ok."

"Of course it's ok," he says fiercely "Cause you'll kick her a**, and we both know it."

Rhysand gently pulls him away before hugging his sister, saying warmly: "You'll win. We all know it."

The rest of the cadre bow slightly as one, before looking up, their faces devoid of emotion except for the determination gleaming in their eyes.

Mor and Cassian come forward, Mor quickly pulling her into a hug.

"I'm sorry," she whispers "I'm so sorry."

In a voice full of remorse, Cassian says: "We both are. But thank you."

Behind them, Azriel bows deeply at the waist, his face full of gratitude.

"How touching," Maeve sneers "I look forward to crushing them, one by one. Starting with the prince."

Third Person P.O.V.

Aelin steps cautiously nearer to Maeve, quickly dropping into a defensive crouch.

The pair circle each other, eyes assessing weaknesses in their respective opponents.

Maeve sends out a coil of darkness, Aelin flipping over it nimbly.

Aelin sends back a barrage of fire daggers, which Maeve stops with a quick shield of darkness.

And the fight begins.

Maeve snaps a whip shaped from her magic, Aelin quickly jumping over it before returning with shots of cerulean fire.

The pair exchange blows relentlessly, none of them showing the other mercy.

Their fight is a masterpiece of violence.

Blood is spilt, agony is shared, each of them suffering severe amounts of damage.

And yet, it is so beautiful.

The ultimate fight between light and dark.

The Queen of Fire on one side, the Queen of Darkness on the other.

Fire against Shadow.

Light against Dark.

Good against Evil.

They move with the grace of ballerinas, never faltering, moving in perfect sync. It's a play, a stunning, terrifying final act. They dodge, attack, and counter effortlessly, each of them wrapped up in this fatal battle, completely engrossed on the scene unfolding before them. It's a truly spectacular sight, their movements swift, merciless, powerful.

Two gods battle before them.

The God of Fire and The God of Darkness.

For that was all they could be.

For there was no way one, no matter how strong, could be able to hold so much power in them.

A power that could destroy worlds, only to rebuild them, thriving and better than ever.

And that was the truth.

For with the power in them, anything could be done. Empires could be shaped and ruled with a fraction of the power that dwelled within the two women.

So why wouldn't they be able to raze cities to the ground, level entire towns, and destroy universes?

A fight between two of the most powerful people in the universe.

A thing of beauty and viciousness.

-----------

Aelin was tired, she was bloody, and she was bruised.

She hissed as the whip managed to get her leg, making a deep gash in the already bruised flesh.

She sent a desperate blast of fire, knowing that it would be blocked and quickly diverted.

And she was correct.

Kind of.

It was blocked, but it wasn't diverted.

Her eyes widened as she watched Maeve sloppily summon a quick shield.

It held, but barely.

She delved deeper into her well, summoning every last ember as she poured more and more power into the blast.

Maeve retaliated, putting every last drop of energy into her shield, morphing it and turning it larger.

The two sides watched with bated breath, each of them knowing instinctively that history, without a doubt, was being made before them.

The ultimate confrontation, the power that swarmed around the two women, was something that would be remembered until they died. The feeling of exhilaration, the sensation of euphoria as the buzzing, swirling, magic overloaded their senses.

Aelin grunted as she was forced on her knees by the sheer pressure of the magic. A few feet away from her, Maeve too dropped down, beads of sweat rolling down her head.

Aelin gasped as the shield came closer to her, the tantalizing darkness approaching.

For a few moments, she wondered what it would be like to just let go. To just give up, and just give in to the sweet darkness and the warm embrace of death. Perhaps then she could finally feel the peace she had longed for her whole life.

Then the cries filled her ears.

The desperate screams of her loved ones, every single one of them begging her to hold on, to stay strong, to just go on.

And she knew what she had to do.

She poured every last bit of magic away, slowly standing up with a grunt, distantly knowing that she was approaching a burnout quickly.

She ignored the screams within to stop, to save herself, and instead focused on the blast of fire.

She watched her glorious embers penetrate the darkness, watched as they burned Maeve to a crisp before finally fizzling out.

She smiled as she watched the Valg fall one by one, the battleground quickly turning into a graveyard.

She smiled as she fell to her knees, blood trickling out of her mouth.

"We won." she cheered weakly, a victorious smile lighting up her face before falling backwards with a dull thud.

And everything turned black.

Chapter Text

Aelin awoke a few days later, her eyes blinking groggily as she took in her surroundings. She patted the bed below her, feeling the crisp, white sheets that lined the beds of the infirmary.

She sat up, wincing slightly at the pain her injuries caused. Leaning on the bedpost behind her, she took a deep breath, a calmness present in the air she had grown to associate with Thesan and the Dawn court.

They had won the war, and she was well on her way to her recovery, so why did she feel so wrong?

She felt off, like there was something missing. She felt incomplete, for lack of a better word, like there was something innately precious to her that had been taken away.

She shrugged, dismissing the thought, figuring she was just jumpy.

Unless......

No.

It couldn't be.

Panic filled her as she began hyperventilating, sucking in sharp breaths of air as her mind flailed around.

She searched everywhere, hoping, wishing, it wasn't true.

Where was it?

Why couldn't she find it?

She shook her head furiously, even as her eyes brimmed with tears.

"No" she denied vehemently "there must be a reason why."

She continued with her list of excuses, wanting anything but to face the heartbreaking reality of the situation.

The door opened with a gentle click, and she spun around, here was someone who would know what was going on, who would tell her where it went.

They would tell her how to fix it, she was sure, they would tell her how to return to her normal state.

Rowan stepped into the room, his eyes immediately drawn to the lone figure perched on the bed.

"Rowan," she cried, her eyes wild and completely deranged "it isn't true. Right? I'm ok, there's nothing wrong with me, everything's fine. Right?"

He stared at the women he loved, took in her long blonde hair, her rosy lips, took in the new scar that lined her face, took in the simultaneous hope and desperation that lurked under her unhinged eyes.

And he cried.

He cried for her loss, cried for the devastation that would hit her, cried for the death of something so beautiful.

"Rowan?"

"I'm sorry" he croaked out, feeling his throat closing "I'm so, so sorry."

She stared at him for a few moments, then a bright smile appeared on her face.

"Don't be sorry Rowan, nothing's wrong." she said cheerfully

"Aelin," he began warily, watching her cautiously.

"Nothing's wrong." she repeated firmly, her smile staying fixed upon her lips.

Her tone turning hysterical, she continued "I'm fine. Everything's normal. Nothing's missing. I'm fine."

"Aelin," he said, his heart breaking as he watched her helplessly "It's gone. I'm so sorry. But it's gone."

"STOP LYING!" she shrieked suddenly "IT ISN'T GONE! IT ISN'T! IT CAN'T BE."

"TELL ME!" she screamed in his face "TELL ME IT ISN'T GONE!"

He whispered softly: "Aelin, it-"

"Tell me," she begged as she started sobbing "tell me it'll come back. Please."

"I'm so sorry" he whispered, his arms encircling around her "I can't."

-----------

Aedion surveyed the scene before him, watching his sister in everything but blood sob into Rowan's shoulder.

"They tried," he said, his voice rough with emotion "but they could barely keep you alive. I'm so sorry Aelin. I'm so so sorry."

His words went without reply as they washed over her, the weeping queen uncomprehending of the situation before her.

The rest of her court filed into the room, watching with an aching heart as their queen cried.

She was finally broken.

After all the burdens, all the hardships that had been placed onto her shoulders, she was finally broken.

For she, the heir of Mala firebringer, the fire breathing bitch queen herself, had lost her fire.

All of it.