So one of my reviewers wanted a reunion between Ansel and Celaena. I guess you can count this as a reunion fanfic, but it is really a lot more than that. It chronicles the struggles of the characters after the Assassin's Brother, how they interact with each other and there's a bit of Dorian and Celaena. There are quite a lot of POV changes so I hope I did each character justice.
...
Celaena scowled as she surveyed the grey, green mass of foliage that was the Western Wastes. The air was a living throbbing creature, the humidity settling in her hair, her attire. She winced at the chaff of her damp clothes on skin as she moved to peer over the rocky cliff. The leather and furs had been useful in the shadows of the Ruhnn Mountians, had kept them alive in the bitter cold and howling blizzards, but Celaena had not accounted for the smothering moisture of the Wastes.
Beside her, Aedion's eyes scanned the terrain with his usual perceptiveness, a large hand on the Sword of Orynth. "Remind me again, why we are traipsing across the continent when we could be in Terrasen doing something productive like, I don't know... raising an army?"
Celaena inhaled, but choked on the overwhelming scent of earth and rust. "Because I-"
"-said so," they all chorused with a sigh. It was a phase they had quickly picked up due to her unwillingness to confide in them except when it was absolutely necessary. It was, she had been told, how Aedion used to operate as well.
The former assassin smirked, "You men learn quickly." It wasn't that Celaena didn't trust them, she did. Most of them at least. But until she receives a sign that the Allsbrook lordling was wholehearted focused on their coinciding goals, Celaena will give him hell.
Rowan hopped a little on her shoulder, ruffling his feathers. The steady weight of him gave her a constant comforting calm. She loathed sending him out on reconnaissance missions. Celaena had never gotten used to the restlessness, the shivering prowl of her skin whenever he was gone.
"Aelin..." Aedion said trailing off with another sigh.
Celaena's canines gleamed as she smiled. "Who says I am not raising an army?" She turned toward the ruins of what was once a thriving country.
"The Bane is not enough," she said levelly. Celaena shot Aedion a look. "And do not try to tell me otherwise. It took me ten years to get to where I am now. I started this war and I intend to win. Which means that I need to cash in some favors." Her lips curved. "And I'm planning on enjoying every minute of it."
Ren snorted. "Who can we expect to find here? Some bleached bones?" Celaena cock an eyebrow at him and he flushed.
"I have a friend who should be very grateful that she's alive," she replied ambiguously. "A friend who has an army at her disposal. Do not take it the wrong way, Aedion. I trust that your Bane is well trained, but I need more than that. This is not a night raid or hunting party and what we are going against are immortal beings, not petty men playing at sovereignty. I have allies," Celaena said softly staring across those ragged plains and hills, to a broken, crumbling castle wherein a certain red haired queen resided. "Allies all across the world who will stand with me."
Dorian shook his head and tugged at his collar, a glimmer of sweat trailing down his brow. "The Western Wastes have been deserted ever since the Crochan Witch Wars."
Celaena let out a huff of laughter. "A lot of good those history books have been doing you if you don't know about the High Lords of the Wastes." She turned and carefully picked her way down the cliff. "When we get to Briarcliff, be on your guard. The word 'friend' is a very relative term for her."
...
Aedion stiffened as his cousin fell into step with him. "Something is on your mind, Aedion. Spit it out." Distantly, he realized that the others had withdrawn and though they were still traveling at the same pace, the nobles were some distance away. Rowan swooped overhead, his wings batting a steady rhythm as he kept an eye on his queen.
Aedion twisted to face her, eyes narrowing. She had done this on purpose. Aelin glared right back at him, her eyes striking their mark with eerie efficiency. It was uncanny, their resemblance, and it never failed to take his breath away. She was far too beautiful for words, and his queen knew it. Ren loathed her most of the time and still his eyes followed her willowy movements, smooth and graceful as a creek, but as fierce and impassioned as a wildfire.
Aelin was an enigma, a puzzle, and that was what made her so dangerous to these men. Her allure pulled them in bit by bit until they were too far gone, and tumbled head over heels into the abyss. Aedion could see how the captain looked at her, half afraid, but damning the consequences anyway. And the prince. Aelin was closer with him, all soft touches and light, glowing smiles. Aedion could tell too, sometimes, that Rowan was jealous of Aelin's split attention and would pettily nip at the men's hands, or steal away their trousers during a rare bath.
It amused him to no end. So much for being an almighty purebred Fae warrior. But though he could work with the captain, and even more grudgingly, the prince, Aedion had no idea what Aelin's friend was like. It was like an itch he could not scratch, this inability to protect her and foresee every contingency.
Aelin was still frowning at him. "Aedion." He blinked at her. "It this about my so called ally?"
Aedion smothered a scowl. Somehow he had overlooked this memory of her. Aelin's premonition. It was an advantage sometimes, her ability to sense situations before they strode headlong into them and their ability to practically read each other's minds was useful. But there were times where he wished Aelin couldn't read him so easily. Times like now.
"I don't trust your allies," he relented with an exhale.
Aelin cracked a smile. "You don't trust many people." But then, too soon, her grin faded. "It's going to be difficult with her," she admitted. "She can be brutal. " A small laugh escaped. "Very brutal." Almost involuntarily, the queen reached up to touch her neck.
The general narrowed his eyes. "What did she do to you?" his voice a low, rumbling growl.
His cousin waved a hand indifferently. "Nothing I could not handle," she said, as they reached the wall.
"Aelin-"
"We're here," Ren said with a gasp. The others had run to catch up. Rowan landed on Aelin's shoulder, fluffing his feathers pompously.
Chaol raised an eyebrow at the guards, the gate, the rampart and whistled appreciatively, the captain of the guard in him shining through.
"Your friend sure doesn't spare any expense." Aelin regarded the heavily guarded gates, the bristling weapons and the monster of iron latticework, barring their way into the city.
"She doesn't pay them," the queen said with certainty. "Her troops follow her out of respect, not coin."
"And you would know that because...?" Ren trailed off.
But Celaena had already strode away. "Let me do the talking," she threw over her shoulder. Muttering, they followed.
...
Two guards barred Celaena's entrance to the city, their spears crossing in front of her with a clang. She raised her eyebrows, running her gaze down each of them. A small wretched part of her admired their exquisite brass armour stamped with Ansel's wolf head insignia. Their hair swayed with their movement, helmets clamped under their arms. Women. They were both women, and likely many of Ansel's army as well.
"State your business, foreigner," the first one said coldly. Aedion released a soft growl from behind her and shifted closer. The other guard grimaced at her partner's tone and turned to Celaena with a wary smile.
"Do you and your companions have citizenship in Briarcliff? What brings you here?"
Celaena smiled slightly. "I have an appointment with your queen," she replied candidly. The first guard snorted.
"Oh really?"
Celaena's smiled widened. "Oh yes. I expect she has awaited my arrival for quite a time." The guards exchanged glances.
"I have not heard of any special visitors from the queen," the second warden said hesitantly. "I'm afraid you will have to wait for her to authorize your presence before we can let you in."
The former assassin cocked her head. "Surely we can stay in the city, until Ansel calls on us?" Dumbfounded at her impertinence, they stared. Shaking her head, the first guard leaned in close enough any other person would have been discomforted, but Celaena was not just any person. Her lips twisted into a smirk."You really won't want to go head to head with me, darling," she purred. The warden narrowed her eyes, lips tightening.
"Oy, what's the hold up?" a new voice called. Celaena stepped back as another woman joined the throng.
"I just wanted entrance to the city," Celaena said innocently. The guard shook with barely concealed rage.
"This harlot and her companions wanted an audience with the queen!" she snapped, stabbing a finger at Celaena. Rowan screeched at her, straining toward the guard, but Aelin clamped a hand on his breast. "And she was mocking my authority!"
The newcomer turned to Celaena with raised brows. "Is that so," she drawled. Her ebony hair shone in the bright sun, and her teeth gleamed as she smothered a laugh. A grey wolf pelt was slung over her shoulders and a sword lay strapped to her back.
Celaena gave a languid shrug. "If we are being technical, I outrank all of you." Rowan huffed.
"Great going," Dorian muttered, "You've offended them all."
The woman looked away, mouth working to keep from smiling. "I see... Well, I'm sorry for my comrade's manners. It's her time of the month, you see."
The guard sputtered, her mouth opening and closing unattractively. "Wha-" The second warden winced in sympathy. From behind her, Chaol gave an awkward cough. Celaena glanced back to see her men exhibiting various degrees of embarrassment. Rolling her eyes, she turned back to the woman.
The woman grinned, flipping her dark hair back from where it clung to her neck. "Men are usually so stalwart when comes to blood, but once you start talking about womanly bleedings, they turn green."
Celaena's mouth twitched. "I think," she told her, "we will be great friends." Dorian choked.
"Anyone who can keep Tanya in line is a friend of mine," the woman said with a smile. "I am Nesryn Faliq, the High Queen's captain of guard and second in command."
"Ah," Celaena said. She gave her a onceover. "You're my replacement. How wonderful. I approve." Aedion elbowed her. She pinched his side and twisted. He yelped and bared his teeth into a fearsome smile as Nesryn turned toward him. Her lips tugged upward.
"I believe my queen has mentioned you once or twice," she told Celaena, crossing her arms. "Something along the lines of the bane of her existence."
"How flattering," Celaena said dryly. "I have some choice words for her, but I don't think it would be appropriate in present company."
A page ran up and whispered something into Nesryn's ear. She nodded in comprehension and looked at them. "The queen is ready for you." Nesryn jerked her head and before Celaena could move, a squadron of soldiers surrounded them. Seeing her look, Nesryn explained, "The escort is for the queen's safety. Surely you understand?"
Celaena drummed her fingers on her leg, contemplating the likelihood of them all able to pass the city gates without Nesryn and leaned forward. "If you take us any other place than to Ansel, there will be hell to pay," she said softly. She let a bit of her former wickedness creep into her tone, its darkness shadowing her eyes.
Nesryn met her gaze, then had to look away. "Your weapons please."
The former assassin leaned back, considering. "No." Celaena stated. The captain's eyes darkened.
Celaena paused, gripping Goldryn, her blue-gold eyes tracking the movements of the soldiers around them. She calculated the odds of getting them all out unscathed. The odds were not in their favor. A soldier extended a hand to Dorian and he stiffened, unsheathing Damaris, a cornered look in his eyes. A brisk gale picked up and Chaol cursed. She flung out an arm, tucking Dorian behind her, and as if it was choreographed, Aedion, Ren and Chaol fell back, unsheathing their weapons as well.
"Sheath your weapons," Celaena ordered. They didn't move. "Aedion, sheath your weapons now! All of you!" He wavered, but something in her blood surged, and Aedion was forced to obey as the blood oath demanded him. He hissed out a breath and Celaena winced knowing she was in for it tonight. If there was a tonight for them.
The others followed her lead as she unstrapped Goldryn. Various daggers and needles also plunked to the dusty ground. "I better get all my weapons back later," she warned. "These were expensive."
"I didn't expect anything less," Nesryn replied. Celaena watched mournfully as they took Goldryn away. "Let's go." And off they marched.
...
Dorian didn't know what to think. It had been Celaena, or Aelin or whatever she was called who had broken things off with him. She who had started things with Chaol and now... He watched her fluid movements as she hurried after Captain Faliq, Rowan atop her shoulder. He wondered if she ever thought about what could have happened if they had stayed together.
Fate intertwined their paths multiple times and it seemed that their paths had intersected once more. She was willing to put his life before hers; something she did for all her friends, willing to take the blame and the consequences on herself. It was a quality he had admired- and loved- before everything had gone to hell.
Aelin saved his life, slew the Valg in possession of his body knowing she might die. And he did not even take account of the numerous times she had helped him without his knowledge. He wasn't as stupid as others may think. He knew there was no way the Yellowleg Matron had just upped and vanished. Dorian would bet his life the stubborn, terrifying princess had something to do with it.
She immediately knew to cover for him back at the entrance. Perhaps it was just his magic calling to hers, but Dorian could feel it was more than that. Aelin smiling, her touch warm on his arm after a hard day of trudging through harsh terrain. Aelin, laughing, but still attempting to encourage him during one of his training sessions, as one of his pitiful snowballs whizzed past her, missing their mark entirely. Aelin, biting her lip in concentration as she tried using her water affinity for the first time to heal his broken ankle, both of them whooping giddily when the bone knit together successfully. Well, she whooped. It was all Dorian could do not to scream in pain.
There was a sharp knock against his ribs. He scowled balefully at Ren as he rubbed his side. "What the hell was that for," he hissed.
"You're smiling like an idiot," he whispered back. "It's creeping me out." Dorian's gaze slid to Aelin who was gesturing wildly as the Captain Faliq nodded. Aedion was a hulking figure beside his queen, his eyes scanning their surroundings diligently. Dorian had no doubt Aedion would be able to inflict major damage... with or without weapons. Chaol strolled after them, hands shoved into his pockets, as he took everything in with his keen golden brown stare.
Ren followed his gaze to Aelin, and smirked. "Of course. You do realize Aedion will not let you ten feet from her, right?"
"I hav- I don't-"
Ren waved away his fumbling explanation. "You have no need to explain yourself to me, nor do I really care."
"It's all very complicated-" Dorian tried again, but the young lord snorted.
"Isn't it always."
"But-"
Ren patted his back condescendingly. "I understand, princeling. It must be so hard to choose between the queen and another lover back home."
Dorian shoved his hand off roughly, his eyes snapping blue fire. "There is no lover back home. Dead, remember?" The lord's smirk faltered and dropped.
"Right," he muttered. "I forgot."
Rage surged through Dorian so swiftly, he did not realize the air had turn to frost until he took a shuddering breath. Each inhale was a blade of ice shearing his lungs. Startled shouts came from the Captain and the castle's inhabitants, but Dorian just stared at Ren with a wintry mask.
"Gods above," Aelin snarled as she yanked Dorian away from the young lord. "You know better than to lose control, Dorian. Get it together!" Torch fire flared, embers scattering to the floor before winking out. A familiar, sparking feminine warmth wrapped around him and Dorian shuddered a sigh, his body relaxing. The temperature was only beginning to rise as Captain Faliq stomped over.
"What is the meaning of this?!"
Aelin met her gaze, eyes hard. "I shall explain this to your queen. You will realize the temperature has risen. There is no cause for alarm."
"You better have a damn good explanation for this, Sardothien," Nesryn scowled. She glanced at Dorian and grimaced. Aelin's hand gripped his arm as she forcefully tugged him forward. While Chaol's face only showed concern and a bit of fear Aedion looked at him as if he were a cockroach, worth nothing but to be trampled underfoot.
"You know what is at stake, Dorian," Aelin seethed. "I know you dislike-" He snorted and Aelin rephrased the statement with a snap. "I know you despise him. I don't exactly like Ren either, but you need to practice some restraint, Dorian. What we have been working on for the past few weeks- I know I'm not the best instructor, but-" she broke off with a sigh.
Dorian flinched. He hadn't thought Celaena would blame herself for his training. It wasn't her fault his magic misbehaved. It just sat dormant like a lazy mutt until strong emotions surfaced and it exploded. Aelin passed a hand over her face. "Would you like Rowan to take over?" On her shoulder, the hawk chirped furiously.
"Rowan to take over what? My training?" Dorian demanded. His alarm escalated as Aelin nodded.
"Clearly, I'm not helping you as well as I should. Rowan can help-"
"No!" Dorian near shouted. Soldiers nearby glanced at them with narrowed eyes. He smiled weakly and turned back to the princess. "No," he said in a softer voice. "It wouldn't be safe. Rowan stays in his hawk form for a reason, and besides," he added, "I've never seen him in his Fae form. I wouldn't be able to trust him like I do you." I feel safe with you.
Aelin gave him a slight smile. "I need to start seeing improvement then. Show me that you can do what you do. You're powerful, Dorian. I know it. I can feel it. Make your mind its conduct. Your magic is yours to control, not the other way around. You are its only master."
"I will keep that in mind," Dorian murmured, his much larger hand encasing hers atop his arm. As if just realizing she was still holding him, Aelin flushed, patted his arm and slipped her hand away. The female guards standing at either side of the throne room doors stomped their spears in greeting as Captain Faliq and their group neared.
"The queen only wants to see the assassin," one announced. "Her companions will stay here as per the queen's orders until her audience with Sardothien is over."
Aedion tensed, but Aelin flicked her eyes to him and shook her head imperceptibly. A silent argument seemed to occur then, ending with Aedion nodding in comprehension. Aelin squeezed Dorian's hand. "Remember what I said," she murmured. "I believe in you."
Dorian couldn't help himself, he beamed. Chaol made to put his hand on her shoulder, but thought better of it as he noticed the hawk's glare. "Be careful," he said.
Rowan squawked in indignation as he was brushed off his queen's shoulder. Aelin brushed a gentle hand through his feathers and the hawk leaned into her hand. She passed him off to Aedion.
Aelin closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, and for the first time, Dorian realized she was nervous, probably had been for their entire journey. But she had still taken the time to train him, to spend time with Aedion and spar with Chaol and Ren. This girl was able to look into the face of death and walk into its arms with confidence. She could stroll into enemy territory with her brassy arrogance and sharp smile, assured of her eventual victory. Because she possessed the kind of courage that drew men to her like moth to flame, the beauty that could capture hearts of millions, and enough brilliance to fuel hopes and dreams.
And with that Dorian watched helplessly as Aelin walked into the unknown with her chin held high.
...
It was dark. That was her first thought as she entered the hall. Torches along the walls cast bleak shadows on the cold stone floor. Ansel had the advantage of familiarity, but Celaena could work with that- had done so for many of her assignments.
Her gaze swept over the cavernous room, noting the dimensions, lack of windows and the only visible exit; the entrance she'd just taken.
The door groaned as it slammed shut behind her, but Celaena gave no indication of her apprehension. She straightened and turned to the front of the hall. She felt a flicker of admiration for the queen who would not cower nor beg even with the knowledge of what she knew to be her impeding death. It was exactly what Celaena would have done in her case.
A dark, hooded figure sat sprawled on the ironwood throne. Celaena's eyes caught the gleaming flash of a dagger as Ansel sat cleaning her nails. She didn't know whether to laugh or scream her indignation.
"So you've come," that familiar, bright tone drawled. "I was wondering if you would ever come to settle your due."
Celaena took a breath, then another. "You owe me two life-debts," she said softly, inwardly berating herself for her fragile tone. The darkness gobbled up her words greedily. "One for each time I spared your life."
Ansel let out a drained chuckle. "It's not like you to take so long, Sardothien. Why did you have to come back? I'm sure you rule Rifthold quite happily."
Celaena was transported to another day, another time, another battle. The desperation in Ansel's movements as she made to behead the Master, the pain in the Master's eyes as he watched his son bleed out, the empathy in how Celaena dealt with her former friend, knowing exactly the kind of agony that spurred this crazed grief.
"I came back for you," she said simply.
Ansel laughed mirthlessly. "Of course you did. Allow me to compensate, then, for my life-debt," she said as she unsheathed her father's sword. She lunged, but Celaena was ready for her.
The former assassin ducked, Ansel's blade slicing an errant strand of gold hair, and rolled. She was on her feet in a flash. "I'm not here to kill you, Ansel," she said quietly. The queen swung the wolf head sword, hissing as Celaena danced back.
"Why are you here?" she spat. "Did Endovier not teach you well enough?"
Celaena let the taunt roll off of her. "If you are asking if Endovier broke me, then let me tell you." She met the Ansel's furious gaze calmly. "It didn't." The queen faltered under her intense scrutiny, and the former assassin darted in, tackling them both to the floor.
Ansel twisted in her grip, and Celaena's breath whooshed out of her in a gasp as her back struck the stone floor. Stunned, she could do nothing as Ansel pinned her and raised the sword above her. "You should not have come back, Sardothien," she rasped.
As the blade descended, Celaena bucked, knocking Ansel off-kilter. Celaena flung herself to the side the just in time for the sword to grind into stone. She slammed her shoulder into her chest, flipping her over and before Ansel touched the floor, she was pinned just as Celaena was moments before.
Celaena brought the sword to the queen's neck, chest heaving. "Three times, Ansel," she said.
Ansel let out a wild, watery laugh. "Do it."
With a disgusted snort, Celaena flung the blade away, but kept the queen pinned. "I need you alive."
"Of course you do," Ansel said. "I can't catch a break, can't I." She shuddered and went still, closing her eyes. "What do you want, Sardothien?" she whispered. "What do you want from me that you don't already have?"
"A kingdom," she replied plainly.
Ansel's eyes popped open, her struggles beginning anew. "You can't be serious. The Wastes will never take you for a queen." Celaena snorted, her hand tracing the queen's windpipe in warning as she attempted to kick her off.
"I don't want the Wastes, Ansel."
If she had use of her arms, Celaena knew Ansel would have throw them up in exasperation, but the queen settled for shooting daggers from her eyes. "What do you want, then?" she snapped.
"What do you know of Aelin Galathynius?"
If Ansel was startled at her abrupt change in subject, she didn't show it. She shrugged as much as she was able being pinned to the floor and all. "As much as anyone else would, I guess. Now can I get up? My legs are falling asleep. You are not exactly light, you know."
Celaena growled, but eased up a bit. Ansel propped herself up with an arm and tilted her head back. "I did hear about Wendlyn, if that's what you are talking about."
The former assassin shifted and sat back on her heels. "Everyone has," she muttered. Ansel drummed her fingers on the floor.
"You want me to help her," she stated. It wasn't a question.
"I want you to fight for her from here... and wherever she calls you," Celaena corrected.
Ansel's eyes flickered. "Then it's just an extended death sentence." At Celaena's frown, she continued. " You know," she said. "You know what the King will do to the Wastes- to me- if I declare my allegiance to the princess. You might as well kill me now."
"If all goes well, you will not die. I understand your concern, I really do. But what I'm asking is not for you to fight for Aelin, it is to fight for a better future. Even if you do not help me, the Wastes will fall to Adarlan eventually. This entire continent is already under his control. How long will it take for the King to realize that the fertile Wastes with its rich copper mines would be a good investment?" Celaena shook her head. "Not long, I assure you."
"Help you?" Ansel asked softly. Celaena blinked. "You said, 'Even if you do not help me'," Ansel said. "Am I helping you or the princess?"
Celaena fidgeted with the edge of her tunic. "Both," she said, equally quietly.
Understanding filtered through the queen's eyes as she inhaled sharply. "You," she whispered. "You're her."
Ansel recoiled, and Celaena let her go. The queen stood shakily. "All this time," she murmured. She shook her head. "I tried to kill you," Ansel said horrified. "I did-" She shook her head again. "Why now? Why, after all this time, did you decide to take back your throne?"
"I was too young then," the princess said honestly. "I was so naive and arrogant. My gods had abandoned me, so I embraced Death. I thought," she laughed bitterly, "I thought I could atone for my failure with each kill, with each scar." She brought her hand up, tracing the silvery discolouration. "I think- I think I'm ready now, for the responsibility that I had deserted so long ago."
"Years ago," Ansel said, swallowing, "when you said you understood. You really did, didn't you."
Celaena bowed her head. "Of course I did," she breathed. "I've always understood what I meant to lose everything, to hate someone with all the shreds of my soul. And even when I thought I had nothing to lose, even when the I thought I would be content with the fragments I salvaged, I lost all the more."
Tears shone in the queen's eyes when Celaena looked back at her. "I'm sorry," she said. "There are no words to describe what I did- what I could have done. I am just so sorry."
Ansel did not ask for forgiveness. Perhaps in her heart, she also knew that what she had done did not deserve forgiveness, but maybe, just maybe, if Celaena ever pieced herself back together, she could find some sort of peace for her old friend.
Their hands clasped. "Truce?" she whispered.
Ansel gazed at her, eyes wet with hope and redemption. "Truce."
...
Nesryn Faliq is a new character in the series and also on Sarah J. Maas' pinterest page. She's an interesting character and I imagined her disposition being a bit more jovial to balance out Ansel's intense badassery. I know, I know, the part where Ansel is present is a short one, but I didn't plan it. I just wrote what the characters thought and the plot just ended there. If I had gone on to how Celaena explains her adventures before and after Endovier and introduced Ansel to the rest of the gang there would be a lot of pointless talking and it would get really boring. Also, this wasn't edited as well as my other fanfics so if you see any glaring mistakes feel free to point them out.
So there you have it. The Assassin and the Queen. I hoped you enjoyed reading!
And of course, reviews pretty please!
-Silverleaf