~30~
Chaos erupted in the palace halls just a day or two after the birth of the twins. Knowing just how loyal Elide was to Aelin, she and Rowan had decided to appoint her as the twins' nursemaid.
Predictably, the appointment had caused quite a stir once it had gotten out. To Aelin and Rowan's utmost surprise, many of the older lords were more than accepting of the decision, knowing just how close the two young women were.
But not to their surprise, Lorcan was less than happy about it. He was still convinced that Aelin would soon free him from his vows to her. And he was still just as convinced that Aelin would allow Elide to leave with him, so totally convinced that Elide would want to leave Aelin's service in order to make him happy. It was apparent to many around them that Lorcan understood his wife as little as she understood him.
Elide and Lorcan's love for one another had seemed so intense during the war, so all consuming that many had thought that their love was as strong as Rowan's and Aelin's, and was as enduring. But the stress caused by the war and the stresses caused by the aftermath of the war, ordinary everyday life had gotten in the way and they had changed beyond almost all recognition. The war had changed them. The war had changed everything.
Neither Elide nor Lorcan were the same people that they used to be before the war. They had changed so much in the months since to the extent that they barely knew who the other person was. And what they now found in each other was something that they hated. Something that they now found themselves despising.
What confused Lorcan the most, what he hated the most, was his wife's refusal to understand – or to even listen to – his side of the story. He hated the fact that Elide was so stubbornly supporting Aelin, hated the fact that Elide was so close to her queen. He refused to understand the friendship between the two young women, the burdens they carried, the guilt they carried at losing their families, at not being able to do more to save them. Lorcan did not understand it, and refued to even try.
Instead of even attempting to understand his wife's friendship, Lorcan scorned it. He thought that Elide, as his wife, should be dependent only on him. That his wife should obey his every command. Lorcan had a stick shoved so far up his ass, that he thought he had the right to dictate to his wife how she lived her life, without even understand or acknowledging just how wrong that was. Unable to realise that a marriage should be a true partnership of mutual love and respect, and not a dictarorship. Perhaps, in a way, it was Lorcan's upbringing on the streets of Doranelle that made him so cold, so completely heartless. Perhaps the reason why Lorcan was so unabl to understand what it meant to love someone was because his own childhood had been so totally deprived of love and happiness.
Elide, on the other hand, had long since been growing weary of Lorcan's behaviour. Ever since the war ended, and they had finally married, Lorcan had grown beyond controlling. Was sick of the way he treated her, the way he acted as though she were unable to think for herself. What Elide hated the most was the fact that Lorcan treated her like a possession, the fact that he treated her like a china doll half the time. Hated the fact that he barely let her have her own opinions or make her own decisions.
Oh, in public Lorcan would make a show of deferring to her opinions and decisions, but it was just that, a show. It was as though Lorcan became a different person when they were alone, unable or unwilling to accept that any influence he had in Perranth, in Terrasen was due solely to the fact of his marriage. Unable or unwilling to accept the fact that he held no real power, unable or unwilling to face the fact that people only tolerated him for Elide's sake. And for someone who was so used to having power, used to being in control, that was a nightmare that Lorcan was unable to accept.
It was amusing to see the fued escalate between the previously happily married couple, but it also caused tension in the royal household. The most casual remark, the barest glance in the wrong direction could create an explosion.
While Elide was dealing with the situation calmly and rationally, Lorcan was attempting to manipulate the situation in his favour while failing miserably.
All Lorcan cared about was maintaining what he perceived as the status quo, with him getting whatever he wanted with Elide obeying his every command. Unable to see that change was in the air Lorcan snapped and snarled and glared at anyone who suggested that he step back and allow Elide to live her own life without. In fact, it was quickly getting to the point that Lorcan was glaring and snarling at anyone who even suggested the fact that Elide would clearly be so much happier without him in her life.
On the other hand, Elide was moving quietly and smoothly through the proper legal channels to secure the divorce she needed so desperately for the sake of her own sanity. Lorcan had his head so far up his own butt that he was unable to see reason.
Needless to say, many courtiers were quickly jumping on the 'get Lorcan out of Orynth' bandwagon. They had always hated Lorcan and, like Aelin, had only put up with him for Elide's sake. The sheer amount of gossip that was going around the court about the scandal was astounding. It seemed that, apart from the coming trial, that it was the sole topic of conversation.
"I can't belive just how quickly that it's all fallen apart between them," Chaol murmured softly to Fenrys that evening.
"I know," Fenrys said, "but I guess they just got used to hiding what was wrong. Besides, Elide has always been a cunning little thing. Lorcan's never realised it, but he has more than found his match in Elide. She's not going to take any of his bullcrap lying down for long. Never was."
"In that context, I suppose that it got to be too much for the poor girl," Chaol murmured. "I'm honestly surprised that Elide stuck it out this long. I suppose love does funny things to a person, especially a young woman. I never thought that Lorcan was the right man for Elide, I just hope that the next man Elide falls in love with is a better man."
"Better not let Lorcan hear you say that," Fenrys laughed. "He'll start screaming and shouting at you like there's no tomorrow. It's not funny when Lorcan explodes in a temper. Times like that make me wish that I never met Lorcan. It's downright frightening, if I'm being honest."
Suddenly a voice came out of the gloom of the stairwell behind them. "Are you sure you ought to be gossiping about other people's misfortunes like this? It's always quite distressing whenever a loving marriage breaks down. Have either of you even thought about Elide, and what she must be going through? Oh, Elide seems to be holding it together, seems to be staying strong, but deep down, that poor girl is struggling with it all. Struggling to reconcile herself with the break up of her marriage. Struggling to accept that the male she fell in love with, the male she married, is no longer the male she thought he was." And as he finished his little speech, Athril stepped out of the shadows of the gloomy stairwell and into the light of the stunningly bright, sunlit palace corridor.
"Oh, come on, Athril, there's no rules about not being allowed to talk about it," Chaol snapped, annoyed. "You haven't been acting like yourself since you returned to Orynth. But the situation is over, Sam Cortland, Dorian Haviliard and Lyria are all currently residing in the palace dungeons. They are all awating trial, and even you must know what the most likely verdict will be. I may have been willing to put up with your stupidly petty behaviour before, but I will not do so any longer. Grow up Athril, get over yourself. The world does not revolve around you. It will never do so."
And on that note, Chaol stormed off angrily. Fenrys simply picked himself up off the floor, shook his head sadly and followed after Chaol on near silent feet.
Athril sank to his knees, crouched on the final step and rested his head in his hands. He knew his behaviour these last few months had been unlike him, he knew that he had not been himself, but had he really been so bad? Had he really been so horrible that no one could stand to be around him? Yet he knew that his mental health had been slowly getting better. And yet Athril knew that it may very well take some time to regain their trust, after all that had happened in the last year.
The day of the trial finally arrived. Dorian was fairly lucid and seemed resigned to whatever fate was in store for him. Sam and Lyria, on the other hand were convinced that this was the day on which their lost loves would realise their love for them still lived and come back to them. Neither Dorian nor the guards escorting them had neither the heart nor the nerve to tell them the truth of what the near future would most likely bring for them. The fate that was in store for them all.
As they were escorted to the crowded Great Hall, Dorian was not the only one who was unnerved by the sheer amount of guards lining the corridors or the sheer hatred and animosity in the eyes and faces of those watching them. It was nothing that Dorian hadn't expected, but it was still quite discomforting. Not something that he was used to. No, he was used to being adored, not hated.
"I don't know why they all seem to despise us so much," Lyria said haughtily, adjusting her heavy, jangling, iron manacles as though they were the finest of lace and silk gloves. "I would have thought that they would be a bit more accommodating, a bit more welcoming."
"Well, our arrival does indeed symbolise a rather large change in their public and societal structure," Sam said, in rather a snobby tone of voice. "Of course they fear and hate us for that. People are nothing if not predictable. There is nothing that brings us together more than hating someone."
Lyria smirked to herself upon hearing Sam's words, but then the smirk quickly faded, snapping her head suddnely to the side in order to glare at Dorian. "I don't see you trying to secure our future, in any way, shape or form," she said snappily. "I don't see you attempting to figure out how to gain our goals at last, dearest Dorian. As my husband, you should be more supportive of my goals."
Dorian felt a faint tug at his mind and found himself agreeing with Lyria, despite the fact that he disagreed quite vehemently indeed. Despite the fact that he was perfectly well aware that she did not want him for her husband. Despite the fact that he knew perfectly well that to Lyria, he was only a pawn in her games. Despite the fact that he was perfectly well aware that Lyria wanted someone entirely different for her husband. Despite knowing all of that, Dorian found himself agreeing with the little bitch. And in that moment he hated Lyria more than ever. He was going to die for her, just as the men who had followed them had died for her.
As they reached the Great Hall and the doors swung open, Dorian's anxious nerves increased. Despite knowing what was abouit to happen, Dorian was scared, he was beyond terrified actually. Feeling his heart begin to pound, he tried desperately calm himself.
As the guards dragged the three of them to the chained seats in which they were to seat themselves during the proceedings, Dorian couldn't help but to spot some familiar faces in the crowed. There, he noted, was his old friend Chaol… Of course Chaol had come to Orynth immediately after he had left Rifthold. Chaol had opposed his inaction when it came to the threats Lyria had been making against Rowan and Aelin. So it was hardly a surprise that he had come here, to do what he could to actually make a difference, Dorian supposed. Chaol had followed his heart, and done what he believed was right. How on earth had he actually believed it when Chaol had said that he intended to go home to Annielle? Chaol had always hated his hather, hated Annielle. Did Chaol know that his father was dead, and at his hand? Would Chaol forever hate and blame him for it now? Would Chaol ever be able to find it in himself to forgive him for it?
And there was Athril. For some reason, Dorian was actually more surprised to see Athril than he was to see Chaol, though he didn't really know why. There was a line from a history lesson Aelin had given him once floating through his head for some reason. Something about Athril, though he couldn't remember the exact words… Of course! There it was! Athril, dearest friend of Brannon Galathynius… Though how on earth Athril was still alive after all these centuries, Dorian couldn't even begin to fathom, of course that being if it were indeed the same Athril. No wonder the man was so loyal to Terrasen and to Aelin. It was a loyalty to Brannon that kept Athril at Aelin's side, serving her with the same loyalty that he had served Brannon.
Finally, Dorian looked up and saw Aelin standing with Rowan and several of her highest ranking lords and nobles at the Great Table of the Great Hall. For some reason, one of the first things he noticed about Aelin in that moment was that she was no longer pregnant. She must have had had the child in the days since he'd been in the dungeons with Sam and Lyria, since she had returned to the city. Deep down, Dorian felt a flicker of happiness for her. He wondered whether the child was a boy or a girl, wondered what name Aelin and Rowan would decide to give the child.
Glancing at Sam and Lyria out of the corner of his eye, Dorian saw that they noticed the changes in Aelin, realising that they knew, that they had managed to figure out that she must have given birth to her child already. Surely they must know that with the birth, the status of Aelin and Rowan's marriage was stronger and more solid than ever before. Right now, they either knew or were finally only just starting to realise that Aelin and Rowan would never return to them in their lifetimes, nor in any other lifetime. That Aelin and Rowan had each other now and their newborn baby and had no need of them, their past loves, their past lives.
They had truly lost the only people they had ever truly loved, and were only just beginning to realise it.
If only they had begun to realise this earlier, it would have saved a whole lot of trouble and heartbreak for them. The despair and anguish written over their faces as Lord Weylan Darrow began the proceedings began was a story in itself. Two separate tales of sorrow that they were only just beginning to realise would be leading shortly to their deaths, as well as the deaths of the many good men who had followed them. The many good men who had marched north under Adarlan's banner, under the threat of death. Under the threat of being murdered by Lyria, or by him. They had died because of them. They had died for them.
As the proceedings continued and Dorian continued to watch the merciless faces of the lords judging him, he continued to grow even more frightened than he already was, growing ever more convinced that he was going to die. And for the first time, Dorian truly understood how Aelin must have felt when she faced his father at her trial, when she was sentenced to Endovier. If she had then felt even a fraction of the fear he that felt now…
The rest of the trial passed in a daze and Dorian was barely aware of what people were saying, was barely aware of the evidence being presented, knowing only that it would be beyond compelling. Luckoly for him, it was all over rather quickly. And the result was the one that he had expected. They were all sentenced to die.
And at that, Lyria exploded in a fit of rage, screaming. "Don't let me die, Rowan," she shrieked. "You know you really belong with me, not that bitch up there. You love me, you belong with me, and you know it. So will you please finally see reason and return home to me?" Rowan merely stared the female before him down coldly. He had no wish to speak to her ever again.
Sam Cortland, on the other hand, simply sank back in his seat, defeated. He knew he had gambled everything, and had lost. And he no longer had any will to live, knowing that he had truly lost the only reason he had left to continue to live.
Lyria's and Sam's shock, and pain, and anguish, and despair only grew more pronounced when Lord Darrow announced that Aelin had given birth to twins – a boy and a girl, two healthy, happy, thriving babies. Dorian wished Aelin and Rowan and their newborn children nothing but happiness and a bright, shining future.
The last days of their lives passed quickly and quietly in the dungeon cells beneath the palace of Orynth. While Dorian attempted to reconcile himself to his coming death, Sam and Lyria still found themselves whining that Aelin and Rowan owed them better than that. The two of them still believed that they would be granted a last minute pardon, despite the evidence and the knowledge to the contrary – that they would die hated and unforgiven by all who knew them. Dorian suspected that their mistaken belief arouse out of a fear of their approaching death sentences. Not that he could blame them, despite his peace at his approaching death, Dorian still feared the death as well.
The day of the executions arrived. Dorian felt a sense of peace that he had never before felt as they were led out of the dungeons for the last time. He was ready to face his end. As Dorian was forced to watch as first Lyria and then Sam Cortland meet their deaths, he watched the crowd out of the corner of his eye. He noticed Aelin and Rowan standing at the back of the crowed, surrounded by friends and those who were as close as family to them.
Then Dorian felt the noose settling round his neck, felt the rope snapping tight and knew no more.