Disclaimer: I own no rights to the "Throne of Glass" series. Any of the characters or things you recognize here are from Sara J Maas' imagination. Not mine.
A/N: TIME FOR WARRRRRR!
CHAPTER 11
The morning came to depart the fair kingdom of Varese with looming clouds and a biting northwestern wind.
On the deck of their transport, Aelin stood blinking against the wind that bullied its way under her hood trying to make out the temperament of the North Sea carrying them. Not that she couldn't feel it. Beneath her feet, the wooden planks creaked, groaned, and pitched in the tide.
She readjusted to a closer target. There was a vague outline of something swollen hanging from the side of the ship below where she stood. A rowboat… or just another edge of the ship? She pushed her eyes to focus. To tell her more than that there were just lumps and shadows all around.
With a quiet curse, Aelin snapped her eyes shut and mashed against her forehead. The new constant ache in her skull jumping from ignorable to sharp again. It pulsed, pulsed, pulsed against the backs of her eyes. Dull colors flashing behind her lids in sync with each throb.
Oh, this was already getting old.
Before they had departed the palace that morning, the healers had warned her not to be overzealous with using her vision just yet. They cautioned that eye strain would be extremely easy at this stage.
Apparently, "overzealous" meant looking around for two hours like any normal person.
A splash sounded before her and a single drop of water found her cheek.
"Whoa!" A high voice exclaimed.
Aelin looked down at the pull on her arm to see the shadow that was her son hopping in attempt to see over the side.
"Did you see that?" Rhoe squealed. With a shriek, he jumped and scurried behind Aelin between a pair of splashes, twin to the first but closer. "That one was right there, mama! He's trying to fly up here! What are they?"
"Those are called "fish"." The rich baritone voice of her husband answered as he came up to her other side. His tone gentle in the way she'd heard him use only with Rhoe.
"Oh! Fenrys told me about those!" Rhoe let go of his Aelin's hand and climbed atop a crate, hands gripping the wooden wall as he looked down into the water. "I didn't know they could fly!"
Aelin laid a bracing hand on his back, a million unwanted images rushing through her head of Rhoe accidentally joining the fish. "Of course they can." She said, "Some people call it "jumping" but—"
"But that wasn't jumping." Rhoe interrupted confidently, "Ribbits jump. The fishes were flying—like birds!"
"Not exactly like birds," Rowan said, "Birds have wings that makes their flight a smooth glide."
"Spoken like a true buzzard." Aelin flinched at the abrupt call of orders from the first mate to the crew behind her and rubbed harder at her temples.
Aelin felt Rowan's gaze—felt, not saw, because she couldn't even come close to seeing something as detailed as features yet—and chose to ignore it.
Conversation between them was still non-existent. He kept trying. To her great annoyance, he tried. But outside of planning their course of travel and occasionally a matter concerning Rhoe, she wouldn't acknowledge him.
She was angry but there was no hatred behind it. Quite the opposite really. Which was why she wouldn't—couldn't—bring herself to discuss the things that were between them just yet. She wasn't sure she could handle hearing his answers to the questions that already tore her up so fully.
At the moment, Aelin didn't know how she would ever discuss the thing that had happened to her four days before he found her rotting in her cell. The things she lost. The ways in which she failed…
But they also hadn't had any time where they could talk. Alone. Rhoe never strayed far from her side in Varese, and now they were on a fishermen's ship together with dozens of crewmen and a portion of her court. Discussing all that five years put between them would have to wait until there wasn't an audience.
Which she was perfectly fine with.
Aelin pulled her cloak tight around her. The action and a near-by sniffle reminding her that Rhoe was only in a single layer himself having refused the furry sweater she'd tried to put on him earlier that morning. She could only imagine the shock his body was in now. Doranelle didn't have brutal winters like Terrasen. This was his first.
"Are you cold, Rhoe?"
The small outline of his shoulders rose and fell.
Aelin's eyes watered as she fought to keep them open. "Is that a yes?"
Another shrug accompanied by a slight bouncing.
"Well, it's about time for lunch too." Aelin stretched a hand out toward the little form. "Come on sir-shrugs-a-lot, let's go find our cabin."
With both Fenrys and Ribbit having been mentioned that day, it wasn't a complete surprise to Aelin that they would be on Rhoe's mind come bedtime— nor was the resulting meltdown.
"Alright, no more monkeys jumpin' on the bed," Aelin said, swooping him up mid-air and mid-giggle. "Time to get under the covers."
"You too!" Rhoe said, scooting toward the porthole and keeping the covers lifted for her to follow.
As this was the cabin's sole bed, Rowan had volunteered to take the floor and left the modest mattress for the two of them.
Aelin thought back over the last month that she'd shared the bed with Rhoe in Varese and ran her hands over her kidneys and stomach. She hoped one more week wouldn't inflict too much more damage.
"Yes, I'm coming too," Aelin said but lowered the quilt. "But not yet. Unlike someone… I didn't get to brush my teeth or comb my hair or put on my nightclothes yet."
Rhoe yawned, pulling his arm out from under the covers to feel around his side of the bed. "Why not?"
Aelin lightly flicked the tip of his nose. "Because I had to help you do all that first."
She watched his arm return under the covers empty handed. "What were you looking for?"
"Nothing…"
She stroked his hair back from his forehead and paused to feel his temperature. He hadn't shown any other symptoms that concerned her but with all the traveling and cold weather, she had to check.
He felt normal. A little on the warm side but not clammy or hot. Having inherited her magic, his body always stayed on the warmer side.
Writing off sickness, she had to ask, "What's wrong, Starlight?"
Rhoe laid still under her continuing strokes. "I miss Fenrys and Ribbit… and Wooly… and Prince Button."
"I can imagine." Aelin mentally added them to her list of things to rectify when she got to Terrasen.
"When are we going home?"
Aelin's lungs froze along with her stroking. Flashes of her time in Doranelle overtaking her. Her mouth worked, trying and failing to find the words to tell him they weren't going back there until Rowan answered first.
From behind the crates that were acting as a dressing divider, Rowan said, "That's not your home, Rhoe."
"Anymore," She added quietly. Because to Rhoe that was his home. It's where he was born and the only place he'd ever even been until a month ago.
Rhoe asked, "It's not?"
"No," She shook her head gently and resumed her stroking. "Where we're going right now, Terrasen, that's our home—your new home."
Rhoe sat up, letting Aelin's hand drop away. "But what about Fenrys? And my friends and my bed and—" He sucked in a shaky breath. "What about the funny cat story? Fenrys always tells me it at bedtime! Who's going to tell me it?"
Little hiccupping sobs arose and were soon muffled in Aelin's chest.
"Shhh, everything's going to be okay." She laid her cheek atop his head and drew him the rest of the way onto her lap, rocking side to side. Aelin rubbed his pajama covered back, grimacing when he sobbed that it's not.
"Yes, it is," She said, closing her eyes. "I promise."
Perhaps it was selfish to relish a moment when her son was in such distress, but she did. There had been countless times over the years that Rhoe had come to see her, crying, and because of either the sarcophagus or her shackles, she'd been unable to hold him. Unable to comfort him like he needed. Unable to wipe away the giant tears coursing down his face.
Now she could.
"Tell me more about this "funny cat story"." She said, "How does it go?"
Rhoe lifted his head. "It's about a cat—a cat," He said, stumbling through his tears, "A cat and a bell. And a bird. And he's—he's fat."
Aelin cinched her brows upward. "The bird's fat?"
"No!" Rhoe's sob and laugh entwined, "No, the c-cat's fat."
"Oh, I see," Aelin laughed, "What else?"
"It—the cat yells at the bird, cause—cause he was ringing the bell."
"'The cat of Anielle'?" The mattress sank behind Rhoe as Rowan sat and continued, "I know that old limerick. Would you like me to tell it?"
Rhoe turned in her lap towards his father and laid his back against her. He wiped at his face and nodded.
"There was a fat cat of Anielle, "Rowan recited as he absently dried his hair with a towel, "Who was constantly ringing a bell, Til one day a bird, said, 'Enough I have—'"
"No!" Rhoe whined and twisted back into Aelin. "You're not saying it right!"
Rowan lowered the towel. "How am I supposed to say it?"
"You didn't whistle or meow—it like Fenrys—I want—," Rhoe gulped and drew another lungful, "I want—Fenrys!"
Aelin stood and paced around the room, holding him close. She glared over Rhoe's head at her mate. 'Thanks, you were a big help.'
It was a nightly experiment for the next week. Trying and failing repeatedly until trying again and somewhat succeeding in replicating the limerick to Rhoe's liking.
This didn't ease his longing for Fenrys and his friends though. His head hung a bit lower with every mention of them.
Once they docked just off the coast of Terrasen, paid their respects to the crew, and rid the entire ship of any signs of their presence— they came upon something to lift Rhoe's spirits.
From where he walked beside his mother, her hand in his and a juicy peach in the other, Rhoe yelled around his mouthful, "Horseys!"
"Can I say hi to them?" Rhoe pointed to the team of steeds huddled around each other in a corral. Their maple skin partially hidden beneath thin blankets and partially beneath snow. Their breath puffed visibly from their nostrils and a few shook the snow from their manes and tails.
"Who would leave their animals outside in this weather?" Gavriel muttered, glancing at the nearby darkened stable.
Aelin started for the corral. "Someone who won't mind loaning them for a few days."
Stopping outside of the pen, they waited for the horses to approach them. The first stuck his head over the fence at Aelin and Elide's level and allowed himself to be stroked. A second poked his head out between the beams.
Rhoe petted its nose right away greeting with an enormous grin, "Hi, horsey!"
"Found the stable hand." Rowan said, exiting the stable with three saddles and bits in his arms and two in Lorcan's. "He wished us swift travels after a few coins."
Elide pursed her lips. "How charitable of him."
Aelin pulled open the creaky gate and looked down at her son. "Ready for your first ride?"
Five of the horses saddled and mounted, they were soon on their way. Plans of avoiding detection were practically dashed when high-pitched cheering rang for miles from the little face poking out from the middle of Aelin's cloak.
Two days of hard riding and only one stop later, they entered the gates of the palace an hour before sunset.
Aelin kept her hood as low as possible over her face. She checked and double checked that her cloak remained closed and didn't cling. That it kept the form of the child sleeping against her entirely from view.
The clip-clop of hooves echoed around the royal stables before becoming muffled by old hay.
Aelin pulled her horse to a stop and kept her voice low, "Is anyone around?"
"We're alone." Rowan dismounted, looking out into the snow beyond. "But there are no doors separating us from the courtyard."
Aelin's horse took a restless step. She looked down at her mate. 'Don't let him be seen.'
Rowan gripped the edges of his cloak in each hand and reached up under hers. Rhoe stirred at the transfer and sleepily protested when he was set on his feet. "We're here now," Rowan whispered, "Just stay still for a moment." Rowan let his cloak fall closed when he felt Rhoe lean up against his legs.
Aelin gripped the horn and swung herself down with a small grimace. It'd been so long since her body's been accustomed to ridding. She rubbed at her thigh through her leather trousers before opening her cloak to take Rhoe back under.
She breathed in the familiar air of pine and snow and took her son's hand. "Welcome home, Rhoe."
They took the closest servant's passage into the palace. A long forgotten one, if the thick carpet of cob-webs and dust were any indication. At the second unnatural crunch beneath Aelin's boot and another whimper from the face pressed into her knee, she surrendered the lead to Rowan. A steady blowing of his magic cleared the remainder of their path.
They moved briskly and wordlessly through the walls, passing one slit of light revealing the backside of a hidden door. Then a second. And a third.
The fourth one's seam was barely noticeable, the daylight glow from beyond unreachable here. Aelin felt along the wall for its crease and pushed once she felt a faint breeze.
Aelin angled herself slightly out into the hall, just enough to ensure there were no shadows or voices where there shouldn't be. No one should be down here anyway. Not in the middle of a war. Not even any barrels.
"Aelin," Elide whispered, filling out of the passageway after her. "Why are we at the wine cellar?"
Aelin shot straight for the cellar door, Rhoe's little legs trying to keep up with her causing her cape to tent out behind her. She paused and pressed her ear to the door before shoving the wooden latch-knob open with a grunt.
"I've been a prisoner for five years and I'm heading out to end a war," She drawled, "Can you blame me for needing a drink?"
Aelin stood aside to let her companions enter first and light the cold torches of the pitch-black room.
Even if there had been something left by the raid of Adarlan's army over a decade ago, she had no plans to drink. She'd chosen the cellar because it was the lowest point in the castle—other than the dungeons. Attack from man or beast would take quite some time to reach this depth. And with only one entrance point, it was the safest spot in the palace.
Closing the door behind her, she looked down and pulled the folds of her cloak back. "You can come out now."
"I'm not here!" Came the muffled call.
"Oh no!" Aelin gasped, opening her cloak further. "Did my cloak gobble you up?"
"Yes!" Rhoe dodged her seeking fingers, throwing himself behind her other leg. "Now I have to stay in here for always!" Rhoe jolted away from her sneak-tickle-attack from outside the fabric with a squealing giggle.
Aelin giggled with him, unfastening the cloak from her shoulders. She turned to kneel at her son's eye level and draped the cloak around his shoulders.
She hoped having her scent wrapped around him would help make this easier on him. "Well then you stay in it for always if you must."
Aelin lifted the hood onto his head— only for it to slip over his whole face and draw out another laugh. She finished, "Keep it safe for me until I get back."
Any trace of laughter vanished.
Rhoe reached out the middle to shove the hood off. "'Back'?"
Aelin steeled herself with a slow breath. This was the part she'd been dreading for weeks.
"Yes, I have to go help in the war," She said, "But I'll not be far and I'll be right—"
"No!" Rhoe slammed himself against her, arms resolute around her middle.
Aelin swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat. Returning the embrace, she said, "Elide, Lorcan and Gavriel will be here with you. And papa and I'll be back—"
A sob shook the young prince. "No, mama."
Aelin tipped her head back to the ceiling, breathing back the tears. Gods, she couldn't do this.
"Your—Your papa and I will be back in time for dinner." She looked down again as another sob shuddered out of him. She smoothed down his wind and hood frazzled hair. "Are you listening?"
Rhoe gave a muffled affirmation but laced his fingers together behind his mother's back. "Please don't leave me!"
Maybe neither Maeve, Erawan or the lock would be the one to deal her final blow after all.
Aelin cleared her throat and struggled to keep her voice even as she called over her shoulder, "Do any of you have a watch?"
A warm pocket watch was deposited into her outstretched palm. She ignored the small flutter that rushed through as her husband's fingers brushed hers.
Aelin reached behind her and unlaced her son's grip. Keeping his hands in hers, she slid the watch into his palm. "Do you see a black line that's longer than the others?" She waited for a nod. "I'll be back before that one's pointed straight at the bottom and the littler one is pointed straight at the top."
Rhoe shook his head and eeked out, "Don't go." He coughed out a sob. "Please, mama."
He clung to her once more, arms now wrapped tightly around her neck.
"Six o'clock is only an hour and a half from now," She said, traitorous tears finally escaping her, "If I'm not back by then, you have my permission to go look for me with Elide and Lorcan and Gavriel, okay?"
A strangled "okay" was said into her neck.
She sniffled and laid a lingering kiss on the tip of his ear. "I will be back before then though."
"You promise?"
"I promise."
Rhoe pulled back enough to hold his hand up between them, one finger held in the air. "Pinky promise?"
Aelin remembered back to the day about four months ago, on the grimy cell floor, Rhoe had laid next to her and shared what Fenrys had taught him about pinky promises. "Fenrys said when you promise with your pinkies—these short fingers, see?" He'd said, "—Your promise means you really mean it. That its gonna happen, no matter what!"
Now, Aelin clutched Rhoe back to her one last time, their interlocked pinkies between them.
"I promise I'll come back to you, my Starlight," She whispered, "No matter what."
Before Aelin had left the cellar with Rowan, she'd taken Lorcan aside.
"That door doesn't open for anyone but me. If things up there go to hell, you get him out," She'd ordered, "I don't care what you have to do, who you have to kill, who you have to leave behind. You get him out."
And she'd meant it. She didn't care what it would cost to keep her son safe. For the first time in his life, Aelin had complete parental authority. And she would ensure he was protected.
Now stalking through the halls, Aelin clenched her fingers into a fist at her side. Her promise to Rhoe would be kept. She didn't need to worry about a plan B. She would come back to him. She promised. She'd come back.
Step by step with her mate, she made her way out to the battlements—and kept reminding herself of her promise.
Immediately after Aelin stepped past the gates, murmurs started.
"Is that—?"
"I don't believe my eyes."
"The queen's come!"
"No, can't be, she died!"
"Must be the shifter again."
She did nothing to show she'd heard them, resuming a swift gait once Rowan got the information they needed from the nearest weary soldier.
"Twelfth one to the left." Rowan nodded toward the shadowed mass ahead.
Two unlit torches—or dead trees, Aelin couldn't tell which— stood erect at either side of the tents entrance.
Her cousin was in that tent. Her best friend. Aelin didn't know if he was alone in there but in case he wasn't… She took a steadying breath and threw her shoulders back a little more. Time to pretend the last half decade didn't happen.
She took another step for the tent and that's when the sky came crashing down.
Or rather rocks were crashing down from the sky.
Large slabs of stone. Falling like leaves off a tree in autumn.
Screams of terror rang out amidst their whistling descents. Soldiers poured out of the tents scrambling for their weapons and shelter on this open plain.
The ground beneath Aelin's feet shook with each boom. She pitched backwards into Rowan from the vibration of the next slab that fell not five yards away.
Her mate righted her on her feet and he yelled over the raid, "Where is our aerial legion?"
Aelin looked up to the clouds but all she could make out was blankness broken by the stones. No sign of anyone at all. The winter cloud cover provided a perfect disguise for whatever was dropping them.
Then the battle cries rang out. Out from their camp on the edge of Oakwald Forest the Valg army came.
This hadn't been their sole attack. It was merely to draw them out for the next round of battle.
Going from evade to attack, Aelin heard the commanders of her army and allies scattered about begin blowing horns and calling the soldiers forward.
But the stones were still falling. Still crushing.
Aedion. She needed to get to Aedion now.
"Incoming!" Someone yelled, "Move, move, move!"
Rowan was suddenly grabbing her arm and running back towards the gates.
The stone that fell where they'd been made the ground quake. Tremors shot through their legs and they dropped to their hands and knees in the snow.
"I have to get to Aedion!" Aelin shouted, pulling both of them back to their feet.
Rowan nodded and looked back toward the command tent. "I don't think that's going to be a problem!"
"Aelin?"
Aelin turned at the familiar—disbelieving—voice and took a step. "Aedion."
Aedion lifted his shield—her father's shield—over his shoulder and hung it across his back and mirrored her step.
More whistling sounded and they all looked up. But they weren't falling over the tents anymore but rather on the battlefield.
More screams and booming. The slabs now crushing both valg and human.
Aedion gripped the hilt of his sword, the only grief he'd allow himself to show for now, and ran the rest of the distance to Aelin.
He opened his arms for a hug but Aelin intercepted and took his hands instead. Squeezing them.
Aedion squeezed back and said through his tears, "I can't believe—," He looked to Rowan, "You found—," Back to Aelin, "You're alive!"
Aelin laughed wetly.
"Where were you?" Aedion asked, and reached up to wipe a tear from her cheek. His finger lingered under her eye. The cataracts on them catching his attention. "What-what happened? Are you okay?"
Aelin dropped her gaze to the snow. "I'll fill you in later!" She shouted over the whistling, "Is Manon here?"
"She's leading the aerial division."
Aelin cursed internally. She needed to get up there. She said as much.
"Why?" Another tremor ran through the ground and Aedion turned to look over the crushed tents to the battlefield.
Aelin shut her eyes and admitted, "Maeve knows I gave the keys to Manon." She shot a glance at Rowan as he sucked in a sharp breath. She hadn't wanted him to find out like this. Find out at all actually.
She looked back to her cousin. "I have to get to them before Maeve."
Aedion shook his head. "Aelin, Manon doesn't have the keys."
No.
Aelin couldn't breathe. "You mean Maeve already—?"
"No, no one has them anymore." Aedion interrupted. "Dorian already did the lock. He did it a year ago."
A year ago. Months before she was blinded. Months before she was assaulted. All for keys… that were already gone.
The lock was already forged… which meant…
Aelin gasped, "Dorian's—?"
"Alive." Aedion finished, "It's a long story. One that I honestly didn't understand most of."
Loud screeching roars split the air and the stones began to fall in a less uniformed manner.
Rowan looked up at the clouds. "They've found them."
Aedion blinked up against the falling snow then looked over to the soldiers in battle. "I need to get out there."
"We'll be joining." Aelin shoved the information about the lock to the back of her mind. She'd process that later.
"We need to get armor first." She lowered her voice, "And then I need you to trust me."
Aedion turned back to her and listened.
All the way back to the castle for their armor, Rowan's stare drilled a hole in her back.
They entered a small sitting room off the front hall that held only a dusty furnace and a table with meager piles of armor and weapons.
Wordlessly, Aelin removed Goldryn from her back, and began pulling on a leather under coat. Next came the metal bodice. A sheath of arrows went across her back.
Rowan tugged and buckled the straps of his vambraces and caught the sheath of arrows Aelin tossed at his head. He watched her as she forced each piece of her armor into place. Rowan ducked under the chest strap of the sheath.
"Are you going to share your plan with me," He asked, "Or are you hoping I'll die of suspense first?"
She stopped with her shin guard hovering over her leg and her narrowed eyes shot to him. "That's not funny."
Rowan shrugged and picked up the nearest bow. "It wasn't meant to be."
The joints of the shin guard clattered loudly as she slammed it on and secured it. She quickly did the same to the other. "I'm going to finish the war." She straightened and knotted her hair into a strict bun at the base of her nape. "That's all anyone needs to know."
Rowan clenched his jaw and tucked another blade into his belt. Finished with her armor, Goldryn proudly on display now across her back, Aelin went to storm past him out the door. He shot out and grabbed her hand.
Her brows furrowed and she growled, "What?"
"I know you're not stupid, Aelin," He growled right back, "So don't make stupid mistakes just because you're angry."
She turned her attention to the door as multiple booms echoed.
"You can't take on an entire army by yourself," He said, "No one can."
"Don't underestimate me," Was all she said.
"I think my estimation is the only realistic one here; I know exactly how prepared you are for this." He snapped. "In case you've forgotten, I'm the one that's been training with you for the past month!"
A muscle twitched in her jaw but she made no comment.
"You told them to call everyone back on the line," He pressed, "You told your army to stand down. Not to interfere."
"I know what I said."
"Do you? Because it sounds like suicide." His heart skipped a beat and he looked her over, wondering if maybe he'd hit the nail on the head. "Are you—are you trying to die?"
She scoffed, pulling her hand out of his. "I have a baby who's waiting on me to get back to him in an hour—which you're delaying by the way."
Rowan blinked. "An hour."
"Yes."
"You plan to defeat the entire army… in an hour."
"Planning for 'less than' actually." Aelin lifted her hand, looking down her nose as though examining the nails hidden beneath her glove. "Have to factor in walking time."
Rowan gaped.
A bit of old Aelin slipped through as a smirk slid into place and she repeated in a purr, "Don't underestimate me."
A series of distant booming happened followed by a muffled roaring and then cheers. Rowan glanced at the door then back to his wife. "You may have the rest of them fooled, Aelin," He said, "But we both know you can't access your magic right now."
An inane glint came into her eye. "Won't stop me from trying to."
With that, she marched into the din of battle.
The clash of steel. The cries of courage and of agony.
Aelin Ashyrver Whitethorn Galathynius ran into its raging midst.
She scanned the soldiers before her urgently. They were all shadows. All alike.
She couldn't tell who were her men and who was the enemy.
A sharp whistle caught her attention. She threw herself into a backwards bend narrowly dodging the flying dagger.
Two men ran for her. Their weapons poised.
Definitely not hers then.
She met the sword with her own and spun away from the other's axe. A flick of the wrist and one of her knives found the axe bearer's heart.
The swordsman swung for her head but she chopped off his arm with Goldryn. Before his scream could be fully voiced, she'd removed his head as well.
A new opponent was already running at her.
Delivering his death just as swiftly, Aelin slid into the killing calm.
Left. Down.
This was for her parents.
Another on the right. Down.
This was for her new family.
Two center. Down and down.
This was for younger Aelin, Aedion, Elide, and all of the children who've had their world torn from them.
One leapt upon her from behind. She used his momentum to throw him over her shoulder and onto a fallen soldier's erect blade.
A cry and a flash from her right. Her blade pierced his neck.
Her breath was loud in her ears.
One ahead.
Next.
Left.
Another.
One tried to stab up at her from the ground and another rushed her from the right.
Goldryn plunged through the man to the earth. An arrow pulled from her sheath plunged straight through the right's skull.
Another came and fell.
Then another.
Another.
A gag rose in Aelin's throat from the stench of the black blood spurting upon her.
She cut down another.
Screams of her dying men broke through her haze. A chorus of them. Hundreds.
For years her people had been giving their lives to fight this darkness. For longer than she'd been alive.
It was enough.
A commanding voice reached her. Aedion.
She located him a few yards to her left through the soldiers locked in combat. "General!"
Aedion's head snapped around to her call.
Aelin fueled her magic into her blade and raised Goldryn to the heavens. Flashing the raging ruby in its pommel.
Her signal. It was time.
Aedion gutted the valg grunt charging at him then screamed til his voice broke. "Fall back to the gate!" His call spread through the ranks, "Fall back!"
Aelin continued to fight her way to the center. Careful to avoid those that raised no weapon to her. Careful to remember how far she'd come from the wall.
She kept fighting. Kept breathing. Kept pushing through.
Only once she heard the crystal-clear call of a horn did she stop. Aedion's signal: All of her men were clear.
From every direction they yelled and ran for her as she alone stood in their midst. The ones who killed her people. The ones who served the king and queen that brought such suffering. The ones that sought to make them bow.
But she was the Queen Who Was Promised. The heir of Brannon and Mala. She was Aelin of the Wildfire—And it was time they knew what that meant.
Aelin breathed in deeply. This was for her kingdom.
With Goldryn gripped firmly in one hand, Aelin spun. And five years of pent up god-bestowed fire erupted.
When the Queen of Terrasen landed on one knee, her sword held out behind her—the entire enemy legion was already ash in the wind.
Aelin did nothing but breathe.
Roaring drifted to her ears. Roaring not of the wind but of her army.
Roars of victory.
Long live the queen! Long live the queen! Long live the queen!
She sensed her mate approaching and slid Goldryn into its sheath.
The snow turned to mud around her squelched under quick steps. Rowan reached for her shoulder but stopped himself and clutched her hands instead.
He grappled for words and Aelin took pity on him. She said, "Told you I'd do it in under an hour."
A guffaw. "You did it under twenty minutes."
"They weren't as good of fighters as I'd anticipated." Aelin released his hands and started to turn back toward the palace.
With the sun now set she couldn't make out the exact time from the darkening sky but she knew it was still before six. She'd still make it back to Rhoe much earlier than her deadline.
But three things approaching through the smoke made her pause. Three people.
"Rowan." She rested a hand on Goldryn and let her flames wrap around the other.
A sharp inhale as he turned. "Maeve."
Though the smoke was clearing and the outlines became larger as they neared, they remained unidentifiable to Aelin. But the satin voice that rang out she knew better than her own.
"You seem to be short a prince." Maeve said in greeting. No coat covered her navy gown yet she seemed completely comfortable in the falling snow.
Aelin said nothing. Only took a step closer. Rowan did the same, keeping himself firmly at her side and his eyes on the snake.
The Valg queen stopped a few feet away and glanced behind them. "I'm assuming you've hidden him somewhere in the castle?"
Aelin ignored the question. "You seem to be short a b*stard and three keys." Aelin said over the howling wind, "Something go wrong?"
Maeve's mouth set into a hard line. "I discovered that the gate has long since been sealed."
Aelin clicked her tongue. "What a shame."
"Yes, it seems you whored yourself to my males for nothing."
Aelin's breath caught and her flames guttered but she placed a restraining hand on Rowan's arm at his furious snarl.
Not yet. Not for her. Not when it was true.
"As for Connall, he's back in Doranelle— awaiting his execution should my white wolf fail me."
The snow began to spiral in the wind. Rowan spit, "In what?"
Maeve's black eyes glittered. "The keys are lost to me now but I won't return home empty handed." She paused. "Fenrys."
No.
Aelin couldn't get her tongue to form the word. Ice spread through every corner of her being. Rooting her to the ground. She tried to shake her head at the form to Maeve's left as he slunk forward.
Please.
Maeve swept an immaculate ivory hand from Fenrys then to the castle. She smiled. "Fetch."
"No!" Aelin broke through the ice within her with a scream. She flung herself forward. Reaching. Straining to grab hold of any part of him that was vanishing.
But she was too late.
A/N: Dun dun dunnnn. Sorry I took longer than expected on this update but hope you enjoyed! Please review! It gives me fuel to keep going! :) Until next time~ V