Hello Erileans! So in this chapter Dorian and his wife are mentioned; for all you Manorian shippers, fair warning that Manon does not appear. This isn't because I don't ship them (they'd be terribly interesting); but largely because several major things have to happen in order for Manon to fit into this possible future and I don't have the talent or information to write any of them. Frankly, I need Empire of Storms—you feel me? Anyway, please enjoy this next chapter!
Once, Terrasen had been the greatest court in the world. After so many of its members fell to Adarlan's armies, it seemed as though it could never rise again, not as it was before.
Erilea had underestimated Aelin.
By the time she had crossed the threshold into the overgrown remains of the White Palace in those days after the war, her court was already mighty. Containing not only Rowan, Aedion, and Lysandra, it had swelled to include the lords of Suria, Elide Lochan, Ren, the warrior-twins that had supposedly died in the initial slaughter a decade before, and pledges of allegiance from the new king of Adarlan, Eyllwe's mourning rulers, Galan Ashryver, and alliances with Melisande and Fenharrow. Aelin's people flocked to Orynth—Fae, demi-Fae, magic wielders, ordinary humans; workers and soldiers; women, men and children. Her army swelled—Aedion's Bane enlisted immediately, and commenced training any able-bodied volunteers. Repairs on the castle, on the city, on the country began in earnest—money came in from everywhere, even across the sea, some sources more astonishing than others. The large sum that mysteriously arrived from the Red Desert was nearly as shocking as the coin that came out of nowhere in an envelope artistically signed in blood. A certain jewel thief that had long ago competed against Celaena Sardothien deposited several tons of gold and jewels before disappearing as quickly as he'd come. Dorian lent soldiers and builders; he even sent Chaol for months on end, when he could afford to. Dorian had his own mess to clean up—the whole of Erilea did. But the world got to its feet again, shining and glittering in the light of the newborn sun, and Terrasen shone the brightest.
Aelin's court was an eclectic mix of ex-vagrants and nobility. After crowning Rowan Prince Consort and her second-in-command, she made Aedion her head of military. The initial Court scattered to their new lands, and Aelin divided the rest amongst those she knew would do the greatest job. In some cases, this was the returning heir to an estate; in others, she put notorious criminals in charge. Every single on of them proved their worth and their loyalty countless times over. Terrasen bloomed like a rose in late spring.
In the White Palace itself, the mix of people present would either lead to disaster or prosperity. Aelin steered her wild mess of a ship with a captain's hand; once her pretentious lord of economics finally got along with her head of trade (whom, incidentally, happened to be a female ex-pirate) and her Fae financial advisor finally accepted that she had to work with an ordinary ex-baker, everyone accepted that this was a system that would work. Soon the court became a cohesive machine, becoming close-knit, secretive, and increasingly stronger.
Aedion had to admit it made life interesting. Standing here now, in a room full of courtiers, he wasn't even remotely bored. These were his kind of people: battle-hardened, slightly wild, unevenly mixed with enough stereotypical nobility to provide entertainment. Aedion had been here for maybe twenty minutes and he'd already witnessed Lysandra and Lady Summers take turns trying to seduce the truly ancient lord of economics. It was hard to tell who was winning; Aedion wasn't even sure the man knew he was being flirted with.
The full court—maybe twenty nobles and various members of their families—were gathered in the Blue Salon, a room decorated in the colours of it's name and bearing the mark of Aelin's lavish tastes. Stairs wound from the upstairs halls into the room, which in turn fed into the dining room, which Aedion was hoping to find himself as soon as possible. Of course, the reason they were all here was to welcome the guests—Aedion had yet to say hello himself, having been ordered to his room until dinner.
Aelin appeared then, looking like a living flame in a flowing dress made from a shifting amber material that caught and flickered in the light. Her hair was upswept, studded with flame-coloured gems, and at her side was Rowan, the silver to her gold. Maybe only Aedion noticed the careful way Rowan handled Aelin, even as she stepped away to say hello to some of her friends.
Finally, the guest appeared—all of the staff and warriors running around the halls referred to him like that, as "the guest". He was, of course, an extremely important person, but every time Aedion had heard the term he'd resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The man in front of him was, to Aedion's eyes, just a man, even if he was the King of Adarlan. Dorian Havilliard's grin danced around the room like a living thing, lighting up all it touched. At his heels was Chaol Westfall, Dorian's ever-present companion these days; and that was the extent of the party this time around. Nesryn was off on some very secretive Adarlanian mission and Dorian's other half—a woman who, despite her sweet exterior, could wield her tongue like a blade and hold her own among the toughest noblemen—was back in Adarlan. This was partially to leave someone on the throne and partially because Wynnifer Havilliard was due to have a baby sometime in the next three or four months. Wynne, Aedion knew, had and fit into Dorian and Chaol's friendship like a missing puzzle piece. Aedion had only met her a handful of times, and she'd both impressed and amused him. She'd be missed, but this was the yearly Adarlan-Terrasen council, and it would go on with or without Dorian's wife.
Dorian was met both by ceremony and by Aelin's wicked grin; she took his arm and the two of them disappeared, deep in conversation about whatever book they'd last sent each other. Lysandra swooped in, clearly deciding to make Chaol as uncomfortable as possible over the next few minutes, effectively ridding Aedion of a chance to say hello. Aedion found himself next to Rowan, who looked like he was on a battlefield rather than a surrounded by nobility.
"Does Aelin smell weird to you?" He asked bluntly. Rowan nearly jumped a mile; dinner was announced then and the guests began filing into the lavish dining room. Aelin and Rowan were at the head table, accompanied by a jovial Dorian with Chaol and Aedion close at hand. Chaol and Aedion talked war and rebellion, comparing stories. Meanwhile, Aedion watched Rowan and Aelin suspiciously all throughout the first course, trying to put his finger on what had changed. He'd just taken a hearty sip of wine when it hit him like a thunderclap.
Aedion choked on his drink. He was instantly pinned to the wall by twin glares from Rowan and Aelin; if looks could kill, he'd be a miserable pile of ashes. He stared at Aelin, mouth open, and she drove her foot into his.
"Please excuse me," she said in a clarion voice, smiling at the people next to her as she stood. The look she gave him as she left was nothing short of vicious: do NOT say anything!
"Excuse me," Aedion managed in a strangled voice. "I got wine on my shirt." It was true; but he must've been white as a sheet because Lysandra gave him a strange look. Aedion managed not to stagger out of the dining room; the instant he was in the hall a hand came out fo nowhere and dragged him out of sight and into an alcove.
"You're pregnant?!" Aedion practically yelled. Aelin slammed a hand over his mouth, fire blazing in her turquoise eyes. "Are you insane?" Aedion whisper yelled as she dropped her hand.
Aelin smirked, folding her arms. "My sanity is linked to pregnancy now?"
"So you are pregnant!"
"Don't you dare tell anyone," she threatened. "We're keeping it secret for as long as possible."
"Why?"
"Because nobody needs to get overly territorial, idiot," she said, clearly exasperated.
Aedion was dumbfounded. He raked a hand through his hair.
"Look," Aelin said impatiently, "out of the two of us, which one of us was going to produce a legitimate heir to the throne? Someone had to woman up and carry on the line."
Aedion didn't even bother flushing. "Are you insane?" He demanded again, for no particular reason.
"We've been over that. Honestly, you're almost as bad as Rowan when I told him."
"What did he do?"
"Turned into a bird. That's not the point. Are you all right? You look like a sheet."
"I've had a bit of a shock," Aedion said irritably.
"Did you really think this would never happen?" She asked, genuinely curious, something girlish in her features.
"I didn't think about it at all!" Aedion exclaimed. "Wyrd, Aelin."
She grinned. "Now you know why I smelled different."
"Are you happy?" He blurted, rather out of nowhere. It suddenly felt like the most important question in the realm. Her entire face lit up as she smiled. "Exquisitely happy, Aedion. This is a good thing, all right?" She took his hand and squeezed it. "Everything's going to be fine."
Another worry plagued him. Memories from his five-year-old self, memories that came form a time before Aelin but when her arrival was imminent.
"Your mother," he managed, not meeting her eyes. Her face clouded.
"My mother was only demi-Fae," she said softly. "It's already been easier for me than it was for her."
"Are you sure?"
"Aedion, you'll see for yourself. I doubt you'll be leaving at all now that you know."
"You can bet your ass on it," he said seriously. She smiled again, looking at the floor.
"Are you scared?" He asked, quietly.
"A little," she whispered. He hugged her then, and her returning embrace was just as strong as ever.
"I'll never get you out of my hair now," she grumbled. He laughed. "You'll be thoroughly sick of me in nine months."
"You're getting wine on my dress," she complained, pulling apart. "Go change, you slob."
"Fine," he grumbled, turning to go. He made it three steps before she called, "Aedion?"
"Yes?" he said expectantly, turning around. She grinned wickedly. "More like five months."
She left him gaping in the hallway as she scampered back into the party.
Hey! So that was another long overdue chapter; summer is hectic for me but come autumn hopefully updates may get a little more regular. You'll also get more Dorian and Chaol in the next couple of chapters, I promise. Congrats to all who guessed beforehand why Aelin's scent was different. Cheers!