This is my first Fanfiction but I am sure to post more as I get used to using this website, any advice or comments and criticism is fully appreciated. Credit to Sarah J Maas for coming up with an amazing series and all the characters in it. I have not decided whether to end it or carry it on so opinions on that will be most appreciated.

Galan Ashryver came riding out through the gates in full view of where the assassin had been perched on the roof of a nobleman's house, assessing the castles gate mechanism. She trailed the prince and his men through the city, leaping from roof to roof. She followed him all the way to the city walls, the cheers growing louder, people tossing flowers, everyone beaming with pride for their perfect, perfect prince. The assassin reached the city gates just as they opened to let him through. However, just before he rode off to the sunset, he stopped and looked up at her. She froze. And he just stared. She went to take a leap to the next roof, away from Galan until he spoke and she halted at his words.

"Wait, stop, would you please grace me with your presence?" he shouted politely. He was so kind and gentle that she did as he had asked, although she was sure to keep her head down and her eyes hidden.

"Your highness," the assassin said softly.

"Now what would a lovely young girl like you be doing on a rooftop like that?" Galan inquired, using the smile laced with court practise that every prince had.

"Oh I assure you, your majesty, that I am anything but lovely," she retorted with a dead laugh.

"I do beg your pardon but I don't suppose we have met before, have we?" Galan's face was twisted with confusion as he said this. And it was obvious that something about her had caught his attention.

"Why? May I ask?" the assassin had suspicion written all over her face, from her furrowed brows to the twitch in her lips.

"Oh I just seem to recognise you from somewhere."

"No I do not think we have met before," snapped the girl.

"Please, if you will, show me your eyes, look at me," The assassin flinched at this request.

"What is wrong?" he was growing even more confused every second he was with this girl.

"Nothing your majesty" she said with a twinge of bite to it. Galan made to lift up the girls chin but she refused and tugged her head away while drawing a dagger on instinct. But, before she could react, the guards accompanying Galan had surrounded her, stepped in front of Galan and the captain had shackled the girl's hands behind her back. Her eyes wide in shock, travelled behind her to look at the man and then down to the shackles and as she looked back up she ran. She ran and ran and ran. With Galan and his guards all on horses, there was no way she could outrun them. She didn't have to. She ran into the forest, dodging trees faster than humanly possible while those trailing behind her on horse became slower.

Once she reached a clearing, she took her shackled hands and step backwards over them. The girl slumped to her knees while staring at the shackles with hollowness that rowan had felt before. That hollowness soon turned into rage as she stood up and walked over to the thickest tree. She swung her arms round and the shackles hit the tree taking her hands along too. She did this five times before her right hand snapped. Rowan heard the crunch of bone from the branch he was perched on. To his surprise she did not scream. She just slumped down next to the tree and stared at the shackles. She looked so helpless. She was falling into a pit that he was still climbing out of. He did not care about her; he only cared about Maeve's order. This was to bring the girl to Mistward and so he hopped off his branch and glided towards the other side of the clearing, landing a few paces away from the girl. She looked up with dead eyes that stared right into his soul. He edged a bit further, coming closer to the broken assassin. There were now only 5 paces to reach the girl. As rowan went to close the gap between them, the girl shimmied round the tree and edged further away. Rowan closed the gap again and this time the girl did not object, not as he showed her his talons and went for the shackles. The girl was as still as a statue and she watched the shackles fall off, as was the hawk. The hawk's eyes narrowed, however, when he saw the girl's hands which were peppered with scars. But those were not the scars he noticed the most, they were the thin bands of scars that circled both her wrists. At that gaze, she snapped back to the world of reality and stood up, rubbing her wrists.

"Thank you," she said but stopped abruptly when the hawk snapped his eyes up to the bush behind her. She slowly, so slowly turned around and ended up meeting the gaze of Prince Galan.

It was her. Aelin. She looked so much like Aedion, from the long golden hair, to the chiselled chin and the turquoise eyes with a ring of gold. The Ashryver eyes. His eyes. She stared at him wide-eyed with shock. She made to turn around to run but he caught her wrist just in time. She yelped. He had grabbed her broken hand and now held it firmly without even knowing.

"Aelin?" Galan whispered with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. She shook off his grip and bounded into the forest again with tears in her eyes. Not from the pain of her hand; from the pain of seeing her relative recognise her with hope in his eyes, the hope of which he had not realised yet had diminished the moment Marion had died.