I don't own Throne of Glass
AN: This is set in Empire of Storms when everyone's on the boat. Just something that popped into my head.
Aedion was sick of it. He was so rutting sick of being on that boat and smelling the others when they...ugh! Every time he went to his chambers, he could hear them as he walked down that hall. Every time he needed to ask something of Aelin, the scent was lingering in the room she shared with Rowan. Curse his Fae hearing. Curse is Fae sense of smell. Curse Aelin, for falling in love with that prince bastard. Curse Dorian for finding Manon attractive. And curse Lysandra for being so touchy that she wouldn't be like the others. He loved her, he really did, it was just...he couldn't be with her, and he respected that. But Dorian was rutting a gods-damned witch. Yeah, that was about right. He, Adarlan's Whore, couldn't be with a former courtesan and current shape shifter, but the King of Adarlan could spend every night in an Ironteeth Witch's room. He was sick of smelling her arousal, sick of hearing the two of them into the late hours of the morning. And don't even get him started on Rowan and Aelin. It was one thing when it was a man and a witch rutting each other, it was another thing entirely when it was two Fae lovers. They were the worst. Aedion wanted to scream at them every time they gazed into each other's eyes and seemed to hold a conversation without words, wanted to barge into their room when they least expected it and when it was most inconvenient and tell them to just. Shut. Up. But...he would never do that. He didn't particularly want to see her doing, ah, that, so he stayed silent. The ever faithful companion to his queen. He knew he'd never act on his actions; it wasn't like him. Oh, well. It wasn't as if he had very long to live anyways.
AN: Review? Any constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!