Aelin Ashryver Galathynius twirled across the dance floor, the emerald layers of her skirts swishing against the white marble. Notes of lively music floated through the room and up to the gold lined ceilings. Couples surrounded Aelin and Aedion in a lively waltz dressed in their best regalia in celebration of the delegation arriving today. For centuries Queen Maeve and Aelin's mother had been at odds with each other. However, the Kingdom of Terrasen had received word of Maeve sending the most respected Fae of Dornelle to make amends. Amends for her attempt to separate the young couple before they could even begin. Amends for her attempts to shape the fire that coursed through Aelin into whatever tool she wished.
Now at the age of twenty, Aelin had mastered that fire for herself. Its white hot heat complimented her blood now rather than rebelling against the physical form it was bound to. Many times it had come to aide Terrasen, bringing allies to their mountains. Adarlan and Eyllwe stood strong with Terrasen despite the differences between Fae and mortals. In fact, the royal families had come to Terrasen as soon as King Rhoe knew Doranelle's representatives were coming. A united front should the meeting of kingdoms backfire, Aelin knew.
Aedion spun them even faster before he placed is hands on her waist, lifting her gracefully into a turn. Aelin glanced up at the dais that stood at the head of the grand throne room. Hand and hand, Evalin and Rhoe sat in their thrones. Her mother was grace and light personified in the white satin gown she wore. A simple gold necklace adorned her long neck, highlighting the shine of her long blonde hair that matched Aelin's own. Her father complimented Evalin in his own white military uniform, a dark green sash across his chest. Dark hair tied back, his handsome face a beacon of pride and hope. Rhoe smiled at his eldest daughter, waving lightly before glancing at the swelling belly of his wife. Aelin would have a younger brother come Yuletide.
As Aedion placed her slippered shoes back on the ground, she waved back. A bubble of joy pushed it's way up her throat, a laugh spilling from her lips as her mother stuck her tongue out at her playfully. The music came to an end and everyone clapped while they caught their breath. Aelin saw Prince Dorian next to Princess Nehemia amid the dancers. Aelin smiled broadly at them. She had been glad to see her friends arrive at the palace. Letters were lackluster compared to the real thing. Aelin and Nehemia had thrilled at pushing the well behaved prince to rebel against the propriety of his title each time they reunited.
Aelin took Aedion's elbow guiding them toward the dais, trying to slow her breathing, "If I don't sit down I might collapse right here."
"Clearly we need to train more if a couple dances have you ready to give out." Aedion teased. She had begun combat and sword training with her father and Aedion six months ago. While still learning, it felt almost natural to wield a weapon. She enjoyed the calluses that formed on her hands and her mind craved identifying her opponent's next step.
"You sure have a big mouth for someone who got knocked on his ass this morning by a beginner."
"I was distracted!" Aedion protested.
"Oh, I know." She replied, a smirk on her face. "You were practically drooling after Lady Melone before I swiped your legs out from under you."
She giggled at the light blush that went over his cheeks.
"You are a terror, you know that, cousin?" He gritted out, looking around to ensure that no one had heard what she said.
"I'll add it to my titles." She stopped them before they reached the dais, lowering her voice to a whisper. "You should ask her to dance. I know she's been waiting for you to."
His light brows furrowed before his turquoise eyes scanned the room for the young female. "How could you possibly know that?"
"Because I promised her you would."
Aedion halted, his eyes wide on his cousin's face. "You did wh—"
"Oh, stop. It's painful to watch you try not to murder every male who so much as looks at her." She untangled her arm from his, shoving him in Lady Melone's direction. "Go."
Shaking his head, he laughed as he walked toward the edge of the ballroom. "Try not to get assassinated while I'm gone."
An odd tug at the word "assassinated" went through her. Like a memory. Or a dream. She let out a chuckle, pushing past the feeling.
"Wouldn't dream of it." Lifting her skirts, she ascended the step to the dais, curtseying low before going to each of her parents and giving them kisses on the cheek. She took up her seat in her own throne to the left of her mother.
"Having fun, darling?" Evalin asked, extending a hand to her eldest.
Aelin took it, a feeling of calm washing over her at the soft warm skin.
"It's wonderful. We should hold more balls. Preferably ones where Maeve isn't involved."
"Behave, Fireheart." Rhoe intoned, leaning forward to meet his daughter's eyes. "This alliance may benefit Terrasen greatly. With Doranelle supporting us, we have further sway over the Wastes."
Aelin sighed. She knew this. The Witches had been pushing the boundaries on the mortal lands for months now. Men and women slaughtered, the numbers only growing. If it came war, Doranelle being at Terrasen's back would be a force they could not forgo.
"So no more balls then?"
Her father gave her a smirk. "Don't frighten the delegates and I'll consider it."
She returned a wicked grin. "Deal."
Her mother sighed inbetween them, rolling her eyes. "What am I going to do with you all? I'm already outnumbered."
Aelin giggled, looking down at the bump proudly displayed. "Pray to the gods he's docile?"
"Considering how much he kicks, I don't think that's likely." Her mother chuckled, cupping Aelin's cheek as she turned her gaze to her. "He has a strong older sister to help raise him so I'm not worried."
The princess merely smiled. The footmen who stood by the large green entry doors raised their trumpets, the sharp notes stopping everyone mid waltz. As the doors opened, two figures came into the light.
Aelin's breath caught in her throat as the shorter male entered the throne room. Although, considering his companion was nearly 6'7, short certainly was not an appropriate descriptor for the male. Clearly a warrior, his 6'4 body appeared to be completely made up of muscle. Broad shoulders were draped with a black cape, and beneath were trousers, a tunic, and boots that matched. Onyx ink flowed over his arm and tails of it peaked out of the collar of his tunic along his neck but his handsome face was free of any flaw. Long silver hair that reached his chest was pulled back, highlighting the sharp edges of his jaw. He looked stern but was undoubtably the most handsome male Aelin had ever seen. The thought when his pine green eyes met hers was simple.
Mine.
She noted the slight stumble in his gait before he took a deep breath, moving toward the dais. The crowd parted for them, feeling the power that emanated from the pair. She straightened her spine as they stood before them, taking a breath of her own as the two fae males bowed deeply.
Rhoe's voice echoed through now silent hall, "Rise."
They did so, the eyes of the silver haired fae briefly flashing to Aelin before meeting those of the King. "Thank you for welcoming us to your kingdom, your Majesties. I am Prince Rowan Whitethorn," He gestured to his companion. Rowan's voice reverberated in its low tone in a way that made pin pricks move across her skin. "And this is Lord Lorcan Salvaterre. We come representing both Fae and demi-Fae of Dornelle. Queen Maeve sends her good tidings and regrets that she could not join us."
Aelin could not say that she shared in that regret. She watched Lorcan bowhis head slightly, offering a tight grin. He wore a similar outfit to Rowan, with the crest of Dornelle pining his cape in place. She heard the shuffle of boots behind her, just now realizing that Aedion had joined them on the on the dais. The distraction helped her ease her frantic heart.
"On behalf of our court, we thank you for making the journey. I have no doubt it was a long one. Allow me to introduce my Queen Evalin." Her father gestured down the line. "My daughter, Princess Aelin and her guardian, General Aedion Ashryver."
Rowan's eyes immediately went to her again, her breath catching. He smirked at her. She felt a coil of heat in her abdomen begin to form. Digging her nails into her palm, she scolded herself. She was a grown female. A smirk should not undo her. He would not undo her.
"Dornelle has heard much of you, Princess."
Returning the smirk, she felt more in control. A brow arched, she intoned, "Good things, I'm sure."
"Certainly. Stories of your flames are told among the armies, the force of you and the Wolf of the North on a battle field is renowned. The love of your people for you and your family is admired."
"Nothing of my captivating beauty and sharp wit? While your kingdom's admiration is certainly appreciated, I do have to say I'm disappointed." The crowd chuckled around them and the warrior prince's grin widened. It was practically sinful that smile.
"I will have to remedy that transgression in my reports to Dornelle."
"You'll have to let me read that particular report."
He put his hand on his chest, bowing slightly. "As you wish, Princess." Her mother cleared her throat and Rowan dragged his eyes from Aelin.
"Your belongings have been brought to your individual suites in the north wing. Please, enjoy food and drink before you retire." Both of the males bowed and moved away from the dais. Once Aelin knew they were out of earshot and the music started again, her hand moved to grab her Evalin's own.
"Mother.. I think…" Aelin turned to look at her mother and her eyes were wide. "The prince. I think, he's… I think I felt the mating bond."
Each of them looked to the fae male picking up a goblet of wine from a passing servant. Evalin breathed, "Oh my.."
At the same time that Aedion spat out, "Him?!"
Aelin shushed him, "Quiet! Do you want the whole kingdom to hear? Perhaps. I felt.. something."
Her father spoke then, voice hard, "He isn't your anything until he properly approaches me to court you."
"Papa!" Aelin leaned forward to look at her father.
"Don't take that tone with me, Aelin. You know how this works." Rhoe's strong fingers clutched the arms of his throne.
"That's preposterous, Papa. You've never treated me like some delicate maiden but now that my—my mate is here you're ready to hold the key to my courtship?"
Aedion spoke up at this point. "Maybe your mate and to be fair, Aelin, he is from a rival court."
"You told me not to frighten them. I'm doing quite the opposite." She shot back.
Aedion coughed to cover a laugh.
"True… but he will still approach me for permission." Rhoe replied. He gave Aelin beseeching look. "Grant me this one formality, Aelin. You know what you mean to me. To us."
Aelin sighed, "Fine. But no territorial chaperone, Aideon." She glared at her cousin who held his hands up.
"I'll allow it, but you carry a weapon with you everywhere you go." Her father matched.
"One, I already do that. Two, thanks to my training and magic, I'm a walking weapon." She fired back.
Her mother sighed, leaning back in her throne. "You truly are your father's daughter."
Aelin grinned and glanced over to the two fae warriors. It appeared that they were having a similarly hushed and animated conversation. A warm flush moved across her cheeks at the knowledge. Almost immediately her brows furrowed, balking at the almost… well, girlish response. Aelin had a few love affairs in the past, but they never lasted very long. It turned out romancing a princess who could wield fire and had a sharp tongue was quite intimidating whether the male be a stable boy or a prince. Hell, even Dorian had tried his hand at it but the initial spark had simmered out to a warm friendship.
The princess shook her head. Mate or not she was a grown woman, an heir to the throne of Terrasen. There was power in the ability to make her flush, make her heart hammer, make her wish he had asked her to dance. No one had that… power over her before. Her lips going thin, she pushed up from the cool metal of her throne and descended the steps.
"Where are you going?" She heard Aedion call after her.
"To dance." She answered back, not looking back at him. "You should do the same."
She strode over to Dorian at the edge of the crowd. Whispering so other fae ears, particularly certain tall silver haired fae ears, could hear. "Dance with me."
His signature roguish smirk played across his lips, but he did bow deeply in response to her curtsey. "Any other unprompted demands I should plan for, Your Majesty?"
"I'm sure I'll think of something. I know how you like to be told what to do." She teased taking his extended hand.
"I wonder if Prince Rowan likes to be told what to do. In the bedroom or otherwise." Dorian placed his other hand on Aelin's waist, his eyes flicking nervously over her shoulder as they began the slow waltz. "I certainly hope so considering that he looks like he might rip my head off my shoulders. Have I pissed you off?"
She laughed, "Not recently. Plus, if I was pissed off, I'd rip your head off myself. Don't need a Fae prince to do that."
Dorian shook his head, chuckling, "Your charm is unmatched."
"Gods, I know it." She quipped, twirling out and then back into Dorian's arms. "He probably wants to rip your head off because of he may or may or not be my mate."
"Mate? Is that a fae thing?"
"Well, you've never heard of it so it's definitely not a mortal thing."
"Cute, Aelin."
She sighed, "Yes, long story short fae have a mating bond. It snaps into place when two fae meet. It's an unbreakable tie that is even more powerful than a marriage."
"And why are you dancing with me rather than him?"
"Because you're my friend and I want to dance with you?"
"As flattered as I am, that's bullshit."
She was going to protest but he dipped her.
As she was righted, he continued before she could speak. "I think you're trying to give the bond the middle finger because you hate being told what to do even if it's by some ancient mating match."
"Mating bond." She corrected. "And that's ridiculous, I can be told what to do."
Dorian arched a dark brow. "Aelin, you and the entire continent know that's not true. I think you're scared."
Again, she was going to protest but he barreled on.
"Whether I'm right or not, which I typically am right, I think giving this mating bond a chance would be worthwhile. You've yet to meet anyone who is your equal, myself included. Maybe he will be."
The waltz came to an end and the Prince of Adarlan bowed to her. She returned the curtsey, shaking her head. "Has anyone ever told you that you are irritatingly perceptive?"
"Irritatingly perceptive and unnervingly handsome."
She rolled her eyes, giving his hand a squeeze. "We'll see. He'll have to make his way through my father first."
Dorian chuckled, "Gods help the male."
"I'm going to get some air and turn in. I'll see you tomorrow." The prince nodded to Aelin as she made her way to the glass paned doors that led to the gardens.
Pushing out into the crisp autumn air, she grinned at the crimson and orange leaves drifting across the trail. This was her favorite time of year. While she had adjusted over the years, the ever present warmth beneath her skin felt nearly suffocating in the summer, ravenous and all consuming when used. Winter, while it didn't dim her power, it made her feel… the best way that she could describe it was as if her magic simply moved slower. Like one of the dancing girls in the taverns, sensually moving to grab the eye, knowing the power each movement held. Spring, it felt like an itch, ramping up and begging to play. In Autumn, the fire felt more like a comforting friend, ready to do anything for her if she should ask.
She made her way down the stone trail, lighting the lamps with her flame as she passed them. The music of the throne room faded. It was replaced by the gentle song of crickets and the occasional hoot of any owl. The scent of pine and snow drifted to her on a breeze and she smiled softly but did not acknowledge who it belonged to. She hoped he would follow.
As she walked, she kicked off her heeled shoes, leaving them on the stone path while she walked into the cool grass. Lifting her heavy skirts, she moved toward the large pond that sat next to the gardens. She took in the sight of the stars reflecting in the glass like water. This was peace.
Reaching up to her head, she removed the tiara and placed it on the nearest wooden post of the dock. Not turning to acknowledge the Fae male behind her, she said in a teasing tone, "You're not very good at sneaking, Prince Rowan."
"You assume I didn't want you to know I was there, Princess Aelin."
Aelin turned quickly, her breath catching at how close he was. They were no more than a breath apart and she had to crane her neck backward to look into his eyes.
"Just Aelin." She whispered, stepping back onto the wooden dock.
The prince smiled softly, matching her low tone. "Alright, Just Aelin." He clasped his hands behind his back. "Do you prefer that suitors stalk you through the dark without making themselves known?"
Her brows shot up, a surprised laugh escaping her lips. "Suitor? Is that what you are?"
One of his own silver brows quirked, a lance of worry showing in his eyes, "Did you not feel—?"
"I did." She interrupted him, turning and walking further down the dock. "My father would say that you are not my suitor until he approves a courtship."
The prince's boots against the wooden planks followed her slowly. "I wouldn't think you waited for anyone to approve anything for you first."
Aelin couldn't help the grin that danced over her lips. "You would be correct. Which is why we're here rather than I the throne room. I'm granting him the courtesy, but not on his timeline." She turned to face him again and he looked confused, his eyebrows furrowing together. "Mating bond or not, I would like to know you first before you ask to formally court me or accept the bond. I would like us to choose. Anyway, courtship is all bullshit pomp and circumstance anyway."
A deep laugh rumbled through his chest and he nodded, "I would like to know you as well."
"Good." Her chest warmed at the laugh, "Well, then let's just be Aelin and Rowan for tonight." Gathering her skirts, she led Rowan to the end of the dock and sat with him there. They spoke of their childhoods, their losses, their joys. About her new sibling coming, his cadre, and their magic. Laughter echoed over the still pond water into the early hours of the morning.
Aelin sighed as the sun began to crest over the trees, setting the remaining leaves aflame. "We should go back."
"Unfortunately, you're right." He smothered a yawn with his hand before standing and offering his hands down to her. She took them and gasping when their chests became flush. The glance down to her breasts pressed against him did not go unnoticed. She felt more than heard the deep growl that echoed through him. Aelin locked eyes with Rowan, her breath catching at what she saw there. Liquid emerald, warm and inviting in the most devilish of ways. "I'm trying very hard to be responsible right now."
"Responsible is probably good." She whispered, her own heart hammering. The morning sun shone off his tanned skin and she wanted so badly to touch him. Just to run her hand along his cheek, his jaw, his neck… his chest. Those were the more tame places she wanted to touch if she was honest.
Rowan nodded, swallowing hard. He didn't move an inch. Instead his hands held hers more firmly, his thumb running over her skin in circles. Aelin shook her head, clearing her thoughts. "Get some sleep. Talk with my father. Then being this responsible may not be as important."
He closed his eyes for a few moments, as if willing himself to gain control. "I will. As long as you promise me something."
"What's that?"
"Save a dance for me. I had to try very hard not to tear that Prince's arms off last night and I would like to abstain from killing your friends."
A laugh bubbled out of her and she sighed. "I think I can keep that promise and I appreciate the effort. As I'm sure Dorian does as well."
He led her down the dock, placing the tiara back atop her head before separating at the trail. Rowan promised he would walk her back to her room like a proper male as soon as he spoke with the King. Pushing up on her toes, she kissed him on the cheek and walked to her bedchambers. Removing the dress and corset, she fell asleep in her chemise thinking of the handsome Fae prince.
Pain. That was what she felt first.
For some reason she couldn't open her eyes.
There were cold, delicate hands on her. They dug into her skin. She tried to scream but nothing came out.
"It could be like that, Aelin. I can make it so. Just tell me what I need to know."
No, no, no. She had to remember.
Gods, what was real?
Her heart hammered so hard she thought it might explode.
Which one is real? Which one is real?
You must not yield. That's what she said. She. Mama.
You must not yield.
She must not yield.
She must not—
SO. One off? Little mini series of torture? Let me know. Thank you for reading. :)