Author's Note:
Hey, this is the first piece of fan fiction that I have ever published on here, and would love your feedback and reviews. Hope that you like it!
. . .
It wasn't about the pain anymore; it was the memories that it brought with it. With every crack of the whip, Aelin felt Arobyn beating her as Sam screamed at him for hurting her. With every fresh scar on her back, Aelin could feel the pain and emptiness of Endovier. With every bit of blood splattered on the floor, Aelin returned to that room, where her friend lay mutilated on the bed. That was her torture now, remembering those that she had loved that had left her. Her brain was an endless cycle of people that had been hurt because of her. Sometimes, it wasn't limited to memories. Sometimes she saw Lysandra's body, killed the same way as the princess from Ewlle, whom Aelin had loved so fiercely. Sometimes, her beloved cousin lay before her, gutted in the same way that Aelin had gutted Archer Finn. Sometimes, she saw Rowan…Rowan's silver hair, long, the way it had been when they first met, matted with blood and a deep scar running through his tattoo. It was these images, these thoughts of what could happen, that made Aelin cry out.
She had tried so hard to hold on, storing away better memories: of reading in the library with Dorian, of running with Chaol, of teaching Nehemia, of gossiping with Lysandra and sparring with Aedion. She saw Marion, Cal and Elide Lochan, who was so brave. Teressan would be lucky to have such a woman. Her parents and uncle were in these thoughts, and her mate. Rowan, who smelled of pine and snow, whose magic sang to her own, who she would have followed to whatever end. She tried not to think of how he would react now that he knew. She had kept so many truths from him, from all of them, but she hadn't wanted to make unfulfilled promises, hadn't wanted to let them down. Her people, her kingdom, her family. Now she would remain in an iron cell for the rest of her days, whilst they passed away. She hoped that they could find it within themselves to move on and accept her absence, though she doubted that they would ever stop searching. That is if they survive this war. They had to, she thought to herself daily, she had put everything in place for them to win. She wished she could have been there when their allies arrived, not only to see the look on her court's faces, but to see those people again.
Though her memories of Galen were hazy, she could conjure up the image from when she was six and her, Aedion and Galen had been sent to play in the palace gardens for an hour or so. Galen had accidently knocked her into a fountain, and despite her amusement, Aedion had almost punched the prince. However, he hadn't had the chance, before Galen apologised profusely and bowed deeply, whilst Aelin had kept in her laughter. She had been as shocked as Aedion when the prince had pulled up his trousers and joined her in the fountain, dancing around gaily. On their drenched walk back to the castle, Galen had produced a flower crown, which Aelin had placed on Galen dripping locks and said, "Now we can both be princesses." They had been scolded for dancing in the fountain, though Aelin could have sworn her father's eyes twinkled and her mother kept turning away to hide her smile. Galen was a good cousin to her, once, and had loved his Aunt Evalin very much. She had no doubt that he would provide the armies that she had requested. As for Illius, she hadn't seen him in years, and had rather missed his calming presence. She blushed to think of the young assassin who had kissed the son of the Master, but from the contact that she'd had with him since, Aelin knew him to be a good man, and he wouldn't hesitate now that she had called in his debt to her. The dynamic with him and Ansel would have been fun to witness as well. These were the people on whom she now relied and she had no doubt that Lysandra would do as Aelin had instructed her to do and ensure that their allies did what was required of them.
Aelin hoped that Aedion didn't hate her or Lysandra too much for what they had planned. People had always said that the closeness and resemblance between herself and Aedion had been astounding, more like twins than cousins. Aelin supposed it was true. She loved her cousin irrevocably and would go to the ends of the Earth to save him. If she lost Aedion, Aelin didn't think she could stand it. What would she be without the other side of her coin? She had worried so that she would settle whilst he aged, that she would have to live her life without him, she wasn't sure that she knew how. She saw how he was around Lysandra, and she didn't want her scheming and plans to stand in the way of their relationship, however new and untested, because Aelin knew how perfect they would be for each other. Before finding out about the lock, Aelin had imagined what would become of them after the war. She had pictured her family and their children and the future that she had wanted so much. Maybe she couldn't be a part of that future anymore, but Lysandra and Aedion could. She so badly wanted them to have that, to have love. She wanted it for Rowan as well. She just wanted them to be happy, and maybe she was trying to soothe her conscience for leaving them, but she loved them all so much and wanted them to live again, without Valg kings and evil queens and endless battles.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a deafening silence. For the past half an hour, Cairn had been whipping her in that throne room, but she was so lost in her own thoughts that she barely noticed when he stopped. Dredging up what little energy she had, Aelin lifted her head to stare at the queen, who had been watching these whippings gleefully since Aelin had arrived. Forcing a crooked grin, Aelin drawled "Bored already, Maeve?" Her aunt's face settled into cool indifference.
"I figured since you seemed so lost in the thoughts of you court," Aelin didn't want to know how she had guessed what she had been thinking, "we could bring them to you." Cairn snarled slightly from behind her, where he had been thoroughly enjoying whipping Aelin, but Maeve just smiled at him in amusement. "Don't worry, Cairn. You can have some fun with the others." Aelin felt her throat tighten and her heart began to beat faster. Hearing this, Maeve let out a cruel laugh that echoed off the marble walls of her throne room. A young sentry entered, looking fearful, and two other sentries held him down where he knelt.
Aelin swallowed, and her eyes remained fixed on her aunt, refusing to look at the sentry before her. She was still limp from her own whipping, and sagged slightly from when Fenrys and his twin held her firmly. Aelin hated to watch how Maeve leashed Fenrys and Connall. She had grown close to Fenrys, and he was almost like her mirror, if her mirror image is a Fae male. His cockiness and sarcastic wit reminded her very much of herself. No, not her but an assassin from another lifetime. She had warmed to Connall as well, not just for his relation to her friend, but because of his gentle nature and the way he loosened his grip on her arm slightly when the whip continued to sting her back. Maeve pouted slightly, as though put out. "Oh, don't look so glum, my niece. I am simply giving you what you want. Or don't you want to see your family again?" Maeve gave her a feline smile and gazed at her intently from under lowered lashes. Aelin could have slapped her then, simply for the way that she was looking at her, like an animal she was taunting. "Go on, then. Look at him." Her voice was commanding now. Aelin still refused to indulge her. She wouldn't lay these games. "Connall." An order. Fingers gripped her chin and forced her head to turn back towards the sentry.
She had fully intended to close her eyes, but that face stared out at her, his hair longer than the last time she had seen it, as though he had been conjured up right out of her memories. Sam Cortland knelt in front of her and it took all her strength not to run to him, not to show Maeve how much this game truly broke her, because if she did, the queen would make them play it again and again. Cairn had moved now, no longer presiding behind Aelin, but behind Sam, his expression unchanging as his shirt was pulled off by the two sentries.
"Sam." Aelin whispered his name, and it was like a prayer on her tongue. Oh, he had loved her so and she him, but that love had left him in a coffin and her, trapped in the salt mines of Endovier. His eyes moved to hers then, and she could have sworn his face softened, as he replied,
"Celaena." That name didn't belong to her anymore, but the girl she had once been nodded slightly, despite the dagger of pain it sent down her spine. Then Sam's expression changed and fear overtook his features. Cairn grinned wildly as he slammed the whip down again. A new slab of meat for him to work on. Aelin held in her flinch as Sam yelled out. The room was silent again.
The next thing Aelin heard was the slow clapping coming from the throne, followed by a lilting laugh. She couldn't tear her eyes away from Sam, however, as old scars reopened and she felt her heart breaking all over again.
"Well, wasn't that fun. Oh, the ruggedly handsome Sam Cortland, once Aelin's sweetheart. What an honour to have in my own palace. Who shall we do next?" The queen was immensely enjoying herself, it seemed and Aelin could feel her trying to generate her next victim to glamour that sentry as. Sam's eyes remained lowered for a time, before they flicked to the immortal queen. He was still restrained by the other sentries but turned his head back to Aelin, right before Maeve clicked her fingers. Aelin remained neutral as Nehemia looked at her from across the room. Once again, she was whipped and it took everything Aelin had not to show a flicker of emotion. Maeve was growing restless though, as she flicked through Aelin's loved ones as though she were going through a catalogue. Ress, Brullo, Chaol, Dorian, Elide. Even Manon was there, hissing with iron teeth bared. Aelin's face remained still as Aedion roared, as Lysandra whimpered. She refused to show just how much this was hurting her, more than any of the scars on her back. Maeve watched her triumphantly nevertheless, and said "A common whore. What dreadful company you keep, Aelin. Gods, what a sorry excuse for a queen you are." Aelin remained frozen. Maeve's voice turned into a whine. "Oh, come on Aelin, show me something. You're boring me." Still Aelin refused to oblige her. "Maybe this next face will make you change your mind, Aelin. You see, I did my homework. I know all about you, who you love, who you want to protect." Aelin whipped her head to Maeve at that, and watched a victorious smile grow on her face. Aelin didn't want to look, not this time, but still her head slowly turned back to where Lysandra had been moments before.
Aelin thought she might snap, and if she had of her magic left, she might have exploded into flame right there. She heard Fenrys' small gasp. She knew this hurt him too, that he loved some of these people as well. A small, confused girl knelt before her looking up at her, a frightened expression on her face; Evangeline. Aelin shook her head slightly, and a tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. When her eyes rested on Aelin, however, Evangeline's face broke into a shy smile.
"Aelin! Thank goodness, you're here. I've missed you. Have you seen Lysandra?" Aelin continued to shake her head as tears rolled down her cheeks, furiously now. "What is it, Aelin?" Evangeline asked quietly, her voice soft. Maeve gave Cairn a small nod, and Aelin staggered forward a step, feeling Fenrys' and Connall's hands tighten on her arms. Cairn brought the whip down with a crack, and the child's scream caused a shuddering sob to escape Aelin. She turned her head and rested it on Fenrys' chest, and his grip on her arms softened. She could have sworn that he was crying as well. Maeve started to laugh, like a witch's cackle.
"See, now we're getting somewhere. This was all I wanted Aelin. Now let's have the same sort of attitude for the next one, yes? There's a good girl." Maeve's taunting rose above Evangeline's sobs, but when she finished the room was quiet once more. She felt, more than heard, Fenrys give a shuddering sob and slowly, she turned her head away from his chest and towards her mate.
There he was, kneeling on the floor, staring up at her like she was a miracle. His silver hair was short and tousled and his skin paler than normal. She felt the room around her melt away and she stared into her mate's eyes and hoped she would never have to look away. She forgot he wasn't real, she forgot what was about to happen, all she knew was that her mate, her carranum, her blood sworn, knelt before her and she longed for his arms to hold her once more. His deep green eyes gazed into her own and if she hadn't already been kneeling on the floor, with two Fae males holding her down, she might have collapsed to the floor. Maeve's voice broke through her trance once more. "Cairn." That command spurred Aelin into action as she turned as much as she was able, so that she was almost facing Maeve. She saw the dark queen nod to Cairn and everything that nod implied made Aelin crack. From where she knelt, Aelin began to struggle. She writhed around desperately, yelling at Maeve the whole time.
"No! You can't do this to him. I'll kill you, I swear I'll kill you, you bitch." Her yells only seemed to amuse the queen however, but when she saw Cairn raise that grip again, panic overtook her body. Somehow, she wrestled off the two Fae males, clamoured to her feet and lunging across the room, blindly attempting to reach her mate. A pair of strong arms caught her and encircled her, though, stopping her in her path. She didn't care that Fenrys held her gently and that he was trying to help, trying to save her. She kicked and struggled, desperate to reach him. Rowan only knelt there, and his unchanging expression did nothing to calm Aelin. She only thrashed harder, but Fenrys' embrace held firm. She could hear the male crying from where he held her, could feel his chest shudder as he sobbed, but she wouldn't give up, never on him. Her Rowan. Cairn brought down the whip, with a menacing smirk on his face.
The crack of that whip on her mate's back might have been the most horrible thing that Aelin had ever heard. At some point, she had started to scream, as she continued to attempt to twist out of Fenrys' hold. She didn't know what she was screaming, and what purpose they were supposed to have, but her logical side had been lost the minute Maeve glamoured the sentry as her mate. All she could feel was an unending need to reach him, to help him. She had felt this way only once before in her life, on that night that she had run to save her friend from the fate that she had orchestrated for herself, before she had even met the turquoise eyed assassin in that glass castle. That sense of nothing, of pure terror for the unknown. She felt this all over again, as that whip came down again and again and again. Aelin was shaking now, pure fury boiling in her blood, and her cries went unanswered. Finally, she heard Maeve say something, but she was too out of it to hear the words. The sentry turned into himself again and was dragged out of the room. This did nothing to appease Aelin; all she could see was that whip coming down on her mate. She screamed until her throat was hoarse and then collapsed back into the comforting embrace of Fenrys, crying now. Loud shuddering sobs escaped her and she thought that if he let her go, she would fall to the floor. Maeve watched all of this with a look of pure glee on that smug face of hers, before saying,
"Fenrys, let her go." Fenrys snarled but slowly his grip disappeared and Aelin was alone, trying to pick up the pieces of herself that had shattered onto the floor. She hated how broken she must appear to that bitch, lying on the floor of her throne room, still searching for breath after she had cried so loud. After what felt like an eternity, Maeve spoke again.
"Take her back, Cairn." As large hands pulled her up roughly, Aelin let out a low snarl.
"One day, Maeve, you are going to beg me for your life, and I will remember everything that you have done to me. You will suffer, in ways that you haven't even thought of making me suffer." Maeve just settled back into her throne and gave the young queen a small smile.
"I'm waiting, Aelin." Aelin just snarled again and didn't bother to fight back as large hands pulled her out of that room and flung her into the coffin. It didn't matter to her today, for it wasn't the wounds on her back that had hurt her the most.
Aelin didn't say anything as she was hauled back to her iron coffin. It took enough effort to keep it together, and she wished she had the strength to walk with her head held high; instead she was half dragged across the stone floors, Cairn not bothering to be even the tiniest bit gentle. Gods, she would love to gut him the way she had gutted Archer Finn in that sewer. That felt like so long ago now, a whole different life, where she hadn't met Rowan, hadn't seen Aedion in 10 years and hated Lysandra. All she had back then was a Captain who had looked at her as though she were a monster. Her and Chaol had been in a bad place for so long, and they had finally started to fix things before he went to the Southern continent. Now, she would never be able to talk to him again, to explain that despite all that had happened, she loved him and they would always be friends. She would never forget the days when it was her, him and Dorian against the world, the three of them united. Those days after the glass castle had shattered, sitting in Chaol's room with each other and the new king of Ardalan, it had felt that way again. She wondered now if her family would tell Chaol what had happened to her, where she was. Even if they didn't, he would know. He knew her, after everything, he knew her. Maybe he wouldn't bother to ask, though. Maybe he would return to Ardalan with Dorian and live the rest of his life happy, eventually forgetting about the assassin who had loved them both so much. The assassin who they had saved, after Endovier, after Sam, the assassin that had needed those friendships. She hoped they would, she hoped they wouldn't look back, that they would live their lives unburdened. Mostly, though, she hoped that Dorian returned to Ardalan, that he got a future. She would have given her life for to forge the lock. Maybe she deserved it after everything she had done, but she had Lysandra to carry on Aelin's legacy, to be the hero their kingdom needed, she had Aedion to provide an heir and she had Rowan to rule Terresan. Dorian didn't have any of this, and her friend deserved so much more. He did have one thing, though. Aelin smiled at the thought. The witch would save him.
Her smile disappeared as Cairn stopped to open the door to her coffin. She hated the iron box, nearly as much as she hated the male now preparing to lock her in it. Chucking her inside and locking the shackles into place, Cairn gave her a bloodthirsty grin, more of a baring of teeth, and sealed her into the darkness. Aelin closed her eyes and let a small tear run down her cheek. She had survived Arobyn, she had survived Endovier, and she had seen so many of her loved ones die. She would survive this. She was Aelin Ashryver Galathnius, and she would not be afraid. This phrase made her want to laugh now. Before, it had been a promise to herself, a reminder that something better was coming. Now it was useless. She didn't need reminders of the person she would never really be again, not without the people that had made her that person, and the mate who had given her the courage to be that person again. She didn't have any of these things anymore, and so she put the thoughts away. They would do her no good. Aelin slipped into unconsciousness, ignoring the throbbing that remained on her back.