A/N: Poor Sam. Actually, I haven't read the prequels so I don't know too too much about Sam, so he may be a lot more OOC than the other characters here. But he won't be featured too much until later in this story.
Disclaimer: I do not own Throne of Glass
A Decision
Sam had woken up from his torture the day before. He was in some guest room at Arobynn's mansion, or that's what he assumed. A healer was sitting by the side of hid bed, working on his wounds. There were too many to count. He could feel bruises forming in even more places.
"What is happening?" Sam asked, trying to sit up. The healer nudged him back down.
"We saved you," A voice he vaguely recognized said. "We found you in the basement bleeding and beaten, so we saved you."
"Where's Celaena? Is she –"
"Arobynn had her sent to Endovier," he replied, conveniently leaving out everything after that.
"I'll kill the bastard," Sam replied, croaking the statement out.
"Don't worry, Lysandra already did that," Tern laughed. It was a joke, she'd only been in his bed when he was killed, but one they all made and would keep making.
"What? The courtesan?"
"No, someone did it while she was in bed with him," Tern said. "She's not smart enough to do it, though she did skip town afterwards."
"And the guild?"
"You were always the most promising after Celaena, and given that she's gone we would be happy to have you work with us when your healing is complete. After all, your debt to Arobynn has rolled over to the guild with his death," Tern told Sam.
"Fine. But I won't take any jobs until I am back to my previous state," Sam replied.
"Good," Tern said. "Get to it then." He turned and left the room.
It was odd for him to be patient given the money Sam would bring in, especially when they were spending the money to heal him. They had to be up to something.
Dorian sat in his parlor with Chaol, Yrene, and their son as they prepared to celebrate the anniversary of the final battle against Erawan and Maeve. The trio had hoped to go to Orynth to see the rest of their comrades, but it could not be done given the dire financial situation and need to rebuild Rifthold. The last year had been trying and tough, but finally things were seeming to turn around now that the port was rebuilt.
The turnaround happened too late to justify the month it would take to go to Terrasen and back – unless he turned into a Wyvern and flew it, but he didn't trust his magic could make the trip any more. He and Aelin had been exploring wyrdmark portals for easier negotiations and meet-ups, but as of yet neither had had time to study the marks deeply enough to figure that out.
A knock on the door heralded one of his messengers. The messenger carried two notes: one addressed to Aelin Galathynius, and one addressed to himself. Both he recognized as being written by one of Aelin's most trusted spies. Dorian gingerly opened the note addressed to him.
We have reason to believe that Sam Cortland is alive and being held hostage by the Assassin's Guild.
The name took some time to register, but when it did he knew why he had to be the one to deliver the note to Aelin: no one else would get it to her fast enough, and this was her situation, not his own. While he could send in his men, or even go in himself, this was something that Aelin would want to handle herself.
Dorian knew what he had to do. He would have to get to his library if he wanted to make it to Orynth in time.
Rhoe and Evalin Galathynius were awoken by the healer at noon the next day. Rhoe sat up first, eager to check on his wife. She looked up at him. They stared at each other in awe for several seconds before he leaned over to her cot and kissed her. He was thankful that Aelin had managed to convince the healers to push their cots next to each other.
Rhoe looked over to where their nephew still lay next to his father's bed. The legendary fae warrior was now awake and having a hushed, but emotional, conversation with his son. Several beds down the row in the other direction lay Marion Lochan, still asleep and being watched over by her daughter. Their own daughter was nowhere to be seen.
The shifter, Lysandra, entered with a tray of bowls. She first moved down to Aedion and handed Gavriel a bowl. While Aedion fussed over his father, attempting to feed him, Lysandra walked away towards them with the remaining two bowls.
Evalin was skeptical, but Rhoe grabbed a bowl for each of them.
"Chicken broth," Lysandra told them. "Perfect for healing throats."
"Where's Aelin?" Rhoe asked, eager to see his daughter again.
"I would imagine in some meeting related to the festivities," Lysandra smiled sweetly. "That, or in a broom closet with Rowan."
Aedion coughed and turned around to send her a dirty look. That was how Aelin's parents knew the joke was directed at him. Just what kind of court had their daughter built?
"I'm sure Rowan will come visit you. Aelin hasn't let any of the males but Fenrys into the planning meetings after they proved to be no help," Lysandra said, earning another look from Aedion. "The healers said all three of you can go for a walk later, so I'm sure Aelin will be here to help with that."
As they ate, Rowan entered the room to talk to Gavriel and Aedion. He greeted them politely before beginning to discuss something about whatever event was happening that evening. A few minutes into their private discussion their daughter burst into the room after him, first greeting them quickly before demanding that Gavriel get out of bed and saying something about him being the only fae male that had any sense.
"You need to take your son for a walk, Gavriel," she said. "So go into the city and help him ensure the guard is doing their job."
"He isn't going that far, Aelin," Aedion said. "He's injured."
"Both of you have done much more strenuous things without the day of healing he's had," Aelin replied. "Now get up."
Aedion swore at her while Gavriel chose to stay silent. Their queen walked away. Rowan sighed and assured Aedion he wasn't about to fight Aelin on this issue.
Next Aelin went to talk to Elide and Marion. They talked softly for some time while Aedion helped Gavriel stand up and dress in a tunic.
Finally, their daughter came to them. "Would you like to take a walk?" She asked, less confident than she had seemed earlier. She had gone from the queen to their daughter in the time it took to walk down the row of cots. "If you're feeling well enough, if not Rowan would be happy to carry you."
Rhoe smiled. "Around the city with Aedion and Gavriel? No. But I could take a tour of the Palace."
"I will as well, if you get me a dress," Evalin replied, indicating the thin shift she now wore. "I'm sure we're both eager to meet your court. Last night you said many of your allies were here as well?"
"Walk first, then we'll talk about meeting the others," Aelin replied.
Aelin brought both of her parents fine clothes – far finer than they needed for a simple walk – but they donned them nonetheless. Although both felt weak from the blood loss, they were able to dress themselves.
Rhoe helped Evalin out of bed and into the soft slippers Aelin had brought her. Rowan came to his mate and kissed her before greeting her parents.
"Gavriel will not be attending the festivities tonight," Rowan informed her. "Aedion said the healers are refusing to let him do more than a quick walk."
"I'm sure he doesn't mind," Aelin told him.
"He minds more than you think, no matter how boring you think he is," Rowan told her.
"Then we should focus on the less boring individuals in this room," Aelin said, grabbing her parents' hands as she did when she was a child.
Rhoe and Evalin were surprised at the state of the castle as their daughter led them through the hallways. Based on Aelin's overview of the conflict that had just concluded they knew the castle had been ransacked, but the sheer amount of things that were being replaced and fixed were staggering: everything from wall hangings to the tiles on the floor.
"All made locally by local craftsmen," Aelin assured them, "So visiting nobility is tempted to buy artisan goods and resources from Terrasen."
"And who are these visiting members of the nobility? Witches?" Evalin asked, concerned about who her daughter was consorting with.
"Not all of them," she answered with a wicked grin. Rowan noticed her grin was softer than it would normally be with a statement like that.
She led them to a courtyard where Manon was beating up on Fenrys. Petrah and Bronwen sat on a wall watching. Ansel was tapping a sword on the ground, waiting for the bout to end. Rolfe had arrived and was now trying to get Ansel's attention. Evangeline sat with Fleetfoot.
"As you can see, they've turned this into something of an exercise yard," Aelin told them. "Rather than what was meant to be the exercise yard."
The crowd turned to them, suddenly making Evalin and Rhoe more wary.
"Everyone, my parents, Rhoe and Evalin," Aelin introduced.
Evangeline was the only one to honor them with a reply and a curtsey.
"This is Evangeline," Aelin said. "Aedion and Lysandra's adopted daughter."
Evalin and Rhoe returned her greeting by providing her with a quick hug. "You mean our grandniece," Evalin added.
"This is Fleetfoot," Evangeline added. "Aelin's dog. Although she spends most nights in my room."
Rhoe cringed internally, wondering why everyone was dropping hints of his daughter's sex life. At least she was married. But then again, it might be something Evangeline got from her adopted mother. He would follow up on that.
"Fenrys," the fae male said by way of introduction. He reached out a hand to Evalin first.
Rowan sighed.
"And this is the witch," Aelin replied, ignoring Fenrys entirely. Aelin waved Manon over, who hesitantly walked over, not knowing quite what to do. Bronwen and Petrah moved to flank her.
"Yes, Manon Blackbeak Crochan, Queen of the witches," Evalin recited, but without a smile. "And her crochan cousin, Bronwen. Your name was Petrah, correct?"
"Yes," Petrah answered.
"It's nice to meet you," she replied, but only cordially. She reached out to hug Manon and kiss her on either cheek, a customary greeting, but Manon backed away.
"Too bad I haven't taught you greetings yet," Aelin told Manon.
"Perhaps I don't need them," Manon replied. "Seeing as I already know all the royalty of this continent, along with that of the Southern Continent."
Aelin grunted in resigned agreement.
"If you need to know I'm sure Dorian would be perfectly happy to show you in great detail," Fenrys prodded her, causing Manon to point her now drawn sword at his neck. In seconds they were back to their sparring match.
"Dorian? King Dorian Havilliard?" Rhoe asked, one again worried about who his daughter had chosen to ally with.
"His son, King Dorian II," Aelin replied. "My good friend, fellow scholar, and Manon's something-or-other." Rowan snorted, knowing Aelin was holding back her newest nickname for him: Manon's occasional piece of ass.
Evalin was more taken aback by that revelation than Aelin had been after the couple's first hookup.
"He can't be here due to the travel time and the heavy burden of rebuilding on Adarlan, but I'm sure you'll meet him soon enough," Aelin continued. "Moving on, this is Ansel of Briarcliff, the ruler of the humans living in the wastes."
Ansel was slightly better in greeting Evalin.
"And her admirer, leader of the Mycenians, Rolfe," Aelin indicated. "He and his people are back living in Ilium. He's also the unofficial head of Terrasen's Navy, if only because he can't stop helping me." For the sake of her parents she held back the gesture she had intended to make.
Rolfe began his dissent, but Aelin interrupted him.
"A few more of our allies weren't able to make it, but you'll meet them in good time," Aelin replied. "And our trade minister, Lysandra's uncle Falkan, is regrettably not getting back from Ellewye until tomorrow due to a blockage on the road. He had to fly."
"Another shifter?" Rhoe gasped. His daughter was building a truly dangerous group of allies – one that could conquer the world if she had any desire to do it.
As they walked back to the infirmary, Aelin began to discuss the other missing allies: Rowan's cousins, the still-missing and not-quite-ally Vaughn, and the royalty from the Southern Continent. She spent extra time telling them about Chaol and Yrene, stuck in Adarlan with their new child.
Yes, it was a group of allies that would likely never be matched in strength.
When his busy day was done, Dorian poured over one of his many notebooks and paged through several volumes full of wyrdmarks. The notebook held the spell Aelin made to open a gate to the beyond.
When looking at wyrdmarks, he and Aelin had written as much of a dictionary as they could. They had even begun writing out what they thought a spell to create a gate to somewhere else in this world might look like. But he had never tried it – he didn't know how to create a destination. There were no wyrdmarks for place names or the names of people.
But wait – there may be two words that would lead him to where he needed to go. He cut his hand and hoped that his spell would work.
In the Assassin's Keep Sam was kept to his room. There was always someone watching every door and window. While he could normally best any one of them – perhaps all of them – he was far too weak in this state. There had to be another solution. He needed to get out – to leave this place and this business. He began to think. He had to escape. If not for Celaena, for himself. For his sanity.
A/N: A slightly shorter chapter but more is written