Elide
They were stopping for the night. Elide Lochan, fugitive and rightful Lady of Perranth, watched as her three Fae male companions carefully arranged their campsite. They had been hurtling across both land and sea, moving on whenever they picked up a lead to their captured Queen, Aelin Galathynius. Fenrys, the unwilling Fae male in Queen Maeve's cadre, would occasionally leave breadcrumbs, though Elide supposed it was difficult to do so often without being detected. Still, leads from Fenrys had been invaluable; at times steering them away from misleading trails.
Prince Rowan Whitethorn-Galathynius flew overhead, having nearly succumbed to his hawk form since his mate's capture. Elide couldn't imagine what it must be like to have your mate ripped from you by a sadistic enemy. She knew it must be hard for the prince to pause and rest at all.
The other males, Gavriel and Lorcan, silently and efficiently cleaned their site of debris and began gathering firewood. Elide had attempted to help before, but the males had been affronted at her doing any heavy lifting. Elide recalled her Queen Aelin having said something about "overbearing Fae males" at one point. Lorcan, even after his betrayal, still fussed over her like a mother hen.
But Elide was not one to sit idly by, watching the others pull her weight along with hers. So while the males assembled campsites or maneuvered their ship, Elide would collect supplies and information from nearby towns. She would sneak into taverns or busy marketplaces and observe gossip. The first few times she'd done so, the males—especially Lorcan—had tried talking her out of it. Rowan's eyes had twitched and he'd compared her to a young and fearless Aelin, effectively ending that conversation.
They'd since realized that sweet-faced Elide rarely attracted nefarious attention and it was much easier for her to go into town than the obvious, lumbering Fae males. Throughout her life, Elide had been dismissed as a weak, simple-minded creature and she had learned to play that role well under the tutelage of her guardian goddess, Anneith. Sometimes the gossip she gathered would give them a new lead and so Elide continued her trips. Though she did not go alone. Lorcan would follow wherever she went, like a puppy with his tail between his legs.
Elide refused to acknowledge him. She was still sick over what he had done; how his lapse in judgment had led to her Queen being tortured savagely and captured. She would often find herself reliving the moment Lorcan had been dishonorably released from his Maeve's Oath; the moment he had crawled on the ground towards her. Elide's heart still ached, the pain searing hot with equally warring hate and overwhelming disappointment.
Lorcan
He was a gods-forsaken idiot. He tried, every day he tried to worm his way back into Elide's good graces, but she was as stone-hearted as her goddess, Anneith. He rutting deserved it after he'd gotten Rowan's mate captured by Maeve. It didn't matter that he had summoned Maeve to save Elide from what had looked like an attack. Godsdamned Elide who wouldn't speak to him now, let alone look at him.
Look at me, please just look at me.
But even though he knew she felt him trailing her, she would not look, would not speak to him. Night after night he would wait for her outside of inns and taverns as she listened, chatted, and even flirted her way to information. And he could do nothing, but stand watch for her as she used those soft rosebud lips and supple body to con insipid men.
He knew they did not hold her attention, but it did not keep him from wanting to kick himself. During his centuries with Maeve and the cadre, he had never felt the need to be a better person, had never had anyone hold him accountable for his mistakes. He had not been allowed to make mistakes. Lorcan had relished in the death and destruction that tore from his gift and his Queen Maeve had encouraged him.
It was only during those moments that Lorcan had ever felt anything other than emptiness. That is, until he'd found Elide. Little Elide Lochan, not Marion as she had once told him. He'd have dismissed her entirely had she not conned her way into being his "wife" shortly after they'd met. Elide Lochan had burrowed down deep under his skin. For a moment, he'd let himself believe that things could be different; that he could have something this good. He hadn't realized how deeply imbedded she'd become until the day he'd almost lost her. Lorcan had not been afraid to lay his life down for her.
And then he had lost her. Not to death, but in a manner he was not sure they would ever recover from. He still saw the way the light had shifted in her eyes; saw her cutting withdrawal as she'd shouted just how much she now despised him. Forever, she'd said.
No, Lorcan did not expect her opinion on him to change, but it didn't stop him from wishing she would look at him, just once more. Lorcan would keep his promise to her, even as it destroyed him from the inside out.