Aelin felt the pain tear through her, and a scream ripped from her throat as she staggered away from the witches she was fighting. They were so close to done: Erawan was dead, Maeve was dead, and all that was left to do was fight off the few stragglers that had survived. There were twenty, maybe less. Aelin could have fought them on her own, but her court was having none of it, and Aedion, Rowan, Fenrys and Lysandra now fought on different areas of the battlefield. Something had gone wrong, though, she knew by the agony now rippling through her. One of her blood-sworn, one of her blood-sworn was hurt. Throwing her two daggers so that they planted themselves in the chests of the two Ironteeth witches she had been fighting, Aelin keeled over as her energy drained from her. The battlefield went quiet as those two witches died, and it was over; there was no one left to fight. But Aelin felt no relief as another wave of pain passed through her and she gritted her teeth, trying to locate the rest of her court on the battlefield despite her spinning vision. The small group of figures were close, or close enough, and Aelin sprinted towards them, pushing past the exhaustion and pain, the way she had always been trained to do in the assassin's keep. Right now, she just needed to get to them. As she reached the edge of the group, Rowan turned, bracing his hands on her arms, and she frantically searched him for any injury, but aside from his concerned expression, he appeared fine.
"I can sense the pain. But if it's not you, then…" Aelin's question trailed off as Lys turned to face her, and the scene her friend had been blocking came into view. Her breath choked off, as Aelin dropped to the floor her hands shaking as she reached for Fenrys' bloody hand where it clutched his side. Tears ran down the male's pale face, and Aedion sat on his other side, clearly not holding up so well either, staring at the injured male as though he was about to vomit. Aelin doubted she looked much better. But this would be fine, she just had to heal him. This would be fine, it had to be fine, he had to be ok. Placing her shaking her hand over the fast bleeding wound, Aelin pulled Fenrys' own hand away, not meeting his defeated gaze. She couldn't afford to think the way she already knew he was feeling, as that blood bond between them was pulled taut. "What happened?" Her voice, fortunately, didn't shake. It was Aedion who spoke, his voice choked and stammering.
"I was fighting a Valg, and a wyvern no…noticed my…my unguarded back. So, it dived, talons out, and I didn't, I didn't, I…" Aedion ducked his head, shame and hatred burning in his voice, even as Lys knelt beside him, clutching his hand tightly. Rowan knelt beside Aelin at the same time, placing his hand on the small of her back, as much for comfort as to ensure that she didn't fall backwards, as exhausted as he knew she was. He took it upon himself to finish the story.
"Fenrys noted the wyvern and instead of throwing a knife at the creature, threw himself in front of Aedion's back. His dagger sunk into the wyvern, but not fast enough." Aelin felt her own breath hitch as the dregs of her water magic flowed into Fenrys, desperate to heal, to protect. Still, she couldn't keep going, and as she caught her breath, her magic stuttered. But she had no other option, and so she let everything she had flow into him, even Rowan's magic from where their bloodied hands joined not enough. Finally, Fenrys spoke, his voice quiet and strained.
"Aelin, stop, it's ok." Her jaw tightened, and still she refused to move her eyes from his wound.
"No, it isn't." Her voice was cold, angry, but she needed that. She wanted Fenrys to be too scared to be die, because she would be pissed as hell. He just placed his hand over hers.
"This is what I deserve. I am only getting what I deserve." Her eyes snapped to his finally, the words he spoke making panic flash through her.
"What do you mean? What you deserve?" His eyes shuttered, and another tear fell as he met her eyes, his gaze so sorrowful.
"For every time I watched her take a whip to you. When I did nothing, for so long. When I watched you crawl on glass, and didn't stop her sooner." Tears were falling down Aelin's own cheeks and she ignored Rowan's tensed figure beside her at the mention of what had happened, his hand stroking her back in comfort as she sunk back on her heels, breathing deeply before returning to the wound, her eyes focussed once more.
"You couldn't have done anything. It would have killed you. It almost did." Despite her tone, that told him not to argue with her, Fenrys didn't stop.
"Please, Aelin…"
"Why did you do it?" Aelin interrupted, refusing to let him die the way he wanted. Was it selfish to try to save when he had made his peace with death? She didn't care. His brow furrowed slightly, the only sign of the confusion on his drained face, but Aelin figured it was better to argue with him, because there was no way he would miss the chance to retort. "Why would you throw yourself in front of Aedion?" His eyes moved between the two cousins either side of him, before meeting Aelin's again, his gaze heavy.
"I needed to save him. Gavriel couldn't have given his life in vain." Aelin pushed down the lump in her throat at the mention of her uncle, glancing up to Aedion, whose own expression was ashen. She simply returned her hard stare to the male whose blood still coated her hands, where she continued her efforts to heal him.
"So you throw a knife, or shoot an arrow. You don't throw yourself on the knife." Fenrys just smiled up weakly at her, and gave her a knowing look.
"You couldn't lose your cousin."
"But you think I can lose you!" She didn't care that she was yelling, that her whole body shook with the strain it took to keep him alive. He needed to know. "I can't lose you, Fenrys. You were all I had for so long, the wolf in the corner. I need you, and so you better hold on, because I swear to the Gods that if you…if you…" She pursed her lips to keep her sobs held in, bowing her head, but a bloody hand cupped her cheek, drawing her eyes back to Fenrys once more. He looked happy somehow, smiling up at her.
"My queen, my friend," he didn't finish his thought, but gave her four slow blinks. She knew what those blinks were, in that moment, that he was saying goodbye, and she pushed every morsel of power she had, and Rowan had, into that wound, begging some higher power to hear her prayers. And yet, as that hand fell from her cheek, Aelin felt the blood oath between them fading, and however much she begged him to live, it didn't stop. And then it was gone. And he was dead. And where Fenrys had just been was the body of a white wolf, the blood that had stained the body previously nowhere to be seen on the snowy fur. Aelin didn't scream, she didn't cry. She couldn't bring herself to do anything but curl up beside the wolf, and fall asleep, praying that her dreams held a better world, where her friend was not dead.
