A/N: Aelin's parents are closing in on their daughter's issues, also her bed. But mostly her issues. Aelin, on the other hand, is happy to have her parents back – that is happy until she realizes that they're, well, parents.

This chapter is looooonng.

Sorry for the wait. This was ready, but I wanted to get a head start on other chapters first.

Disclaimer: I do not own Throne of Glass

A Show

Sam was awoken the next morning by Tern entering his room with an even louder boom on the doors. He could barely open his eyes before the man stood over him with a knife.

"What happened?" Sam asked.

"You tell me," Tern replied. "Harding and Mullin showed up this morning. Dead."

Sam stared at him.

"The note on them only said 'I know you helped too,'" Tern stated.

"How can I know anything when I was dead only a few days ago?" Sam questioned the man. He knew Tern was becoming somewhat desperate, if only for his own miserable life.

Tern only left the room for a minute before setting himself as Sam's personal watch.

Evalin and Rhoe entered their daughter and son-in-law's suite in the early morning expecting anything but what they saw. They certainly didn't want to see any evidence of their daughter's sex life, even if that was what they expected to see. They didn't expect to see Rowan curled around Aelin as she lay on the bed, her sleeping eyes tear-stained. A bloody cloak was on the ground next to them next to an assortment of daggers.

The couple moved to leave the couple, knowing now was not the right time to question their daughter, but she woke up first.

"Mom? Dad?" She asked sleepily, sounding innocent. She sat up, revealing she wore clean nightwear. Her hair was mussed.

Rowan pulled her closer to her before opening his eyes himself. He looked over to his wife's parents.

"Do you need a minute?" Rhoe asked.

"I'm fine," Aelin told him, though they all knew she wasn't.

"Is this – whatever you're doing these past two nights – painful for you?" Rhoe asked.

"That wasn't your blood on you. Not last night, not tonight," Evalin added. "Whose is it?"

"I'll tell you," Aelin said. "I'll tell you when I'm ready." She couldn't outright say that she wasn't ready – not at that moment.

"I understand," Evalin replied. "But you need to be careful."

"I'm more than a match for them," Aelin replied. Rowan nodded in agreement, knowing she wasn't simply bragging or showing her ego. She could wipe out the assassin's guild in a night if she truly wanted to.

"When you're ready, Aelin," Rhoe told her.

"There was a boy – a boy I loved very much," Aelin told them. "He was killed by the people that raised me in Adarlan." Her eyes began to water. "For some reason he was one of the people Lorcan chose to resurrect. I'm saving him and dismantling that guild, once and for all."

"Just be safe," Rhoe said.

"I thought you said you were going to see her fighting abilities?" Evalin asked, not pleased that her husband was willing to risk their daughter's life.

"Give her an hour," Rowan said. "We'll meet you by the training area for the guard."

"An hour," Rhoe replied. "I'll have breakfast sent up."

That was how they ended up in front of a crowd of curious nobility, friends, and palace staff. Everyone had heard of the Queen's prowess, but few had seen it. When she trained, she and Rowan went somewhere less visible. The remaining members of the cadre lined up various weapons they owned, ready for any challenge Rhoe might throw at Aelin.

Manon stood by, hoping for a spar with Aelin – they still hadn't gotten to finish up their own fight. Although the two queens supported each other in the more feminine emotions and the loneliness of ruling and rebuilding, they were eager to get their less feminine sides out as well. No one noticed Lysandra was missing.

The Queen's parents sat down watching, still too weak to participate.

The morning started with a simple archery contest. The guard's best archers and the cadre lined up next to her for comparison. Everyone was hitting bullseyes, and Aelin was no exception. When she missed the bullseye once – by a hair – she pulled a dagger out of her sleeve and threw it, splitting the arrow. She shrugged and moved away from her line for dramatic effect. Rowan finished his quiver with another bullseye and smiled smugly at his mate.

"Knife throwing?" Aelin asked.

Rowan just tossed a dagger, splitting three of his own arrows.

Aedion snorted.

Rhoe nodded while Evalin stared. "You need more archery practice."

"Five out of six," Alin responded. "And a dagger."

"Until it's all six you'll need more practice," Evalin told her daughter.

They then moved onto magic. Aelin held back, but her parents seemed to understand. They didn't want to see her burn anyone.

The final test was sparring. She knew Rowan would go easy on her, so she chose Manon. The witch queen was all too eager to participate. While they prepared Rowan and Aedion warmed up. Rhoe, and the newly arrived Gavriel, watched with pride as Aedion held his own against the fae warrior. Eventually Rowan won out, but Aedion had done enough to please the crowd. Fenrys challenged Lorcan, who turned him down.

Aelin and Manon started with swords, as they had before. The fight was impressive, even if it was a fight to first blood – not the death. As before they moved to daggers and iron nails and then hand-to-hand combat. After 30 minutes the match was declared a draw, much to Aelin and Manon's chagrin.

"Very good," Rhoe applauded. This prompted more applause from the crowd. Aelin posed and waved to the crowd as if she had won while Manon walked towards the gate, entirely nonplussed.

"Now Rowan," Evalin said. "The witch is good, but Rowan is the strongest living male. That should be your standard. You are Queen."

The crowd held their breath.

Aelin and Manon turned to Evalin. Manon stopped to watch while Aelin approached her husband. "Fine," she said.

She grabbed one of the training swords from the rack and entered the makeshift ring. Rowan held up his own training sword and smiled. "We haven't done this in some time."

"Not nearly often enough," Aelin agreed. She didn't ask if he was ready – she only charged at him, not worried about who was going to strike the first blow. They smiled through the spar as the crowd watched in rapt attention. Rowan finally emerged victorious after managing to sneak a small kiss to her lips, surprising her.

While the couple laughed, Aedion and Manon looked disgusted, Gavriel and Rhoe smiled, and the crowed clapped at the show. Evalin smiled softly, her daughter having passed her test.

"Every morning, Aelin," Rhoe announced. "You'll be out here training."

Evalin's smile had disappeared. "If you're stopped by a kiss, you need more training."

Aelin snorted. "A kiss from my husband is different than a kiss by my enemy."

Rowan put a hand on her shoulder. "They're right, Aelin. You should be out here every morning."

"Does this mean I can skip the morning set of meetings?" She asked her parents.

Evalin and Rhoe didn't even have to look at each other before they responded: "Yes."

Aelin laughed triumphantly. "Good."

That afternoon Aelin and Rowan dressed in modest black cotton. It was the beginning of what would be a three-day celebration.

Tonight commemorated the siege of Orynth. After much thought of what to do, Aelin decided that tonight she and the warriors of the battle would walk around the city, handing out gifts, food, and well wishes to thank the citizens for their role in holding the city and feeding the troops. The night would culminate in a series of speeches of thanks at a solemn feast for the dead.

If Aelin thought she was nervous, she was outdone by Manon, who had drunkenly asked Lysandra to make her speech for her. Once sober, Manon regretted it and seemed much too proud to admit her drunken request. Bronwen was more willing to spill that Manon was nervous, but the witch was too proud to admit it. That, and as Petrah pointed out, she needed to get used to making speeches as a queen and why not practice it in front of not-witches?

Her parents and Gavriel were to watch from the Palace. For the first time in several days Elide left her mother's side. The fae, witch, and human warriors walked through the city.

After many tears, smiles, and conversations, the group went to bed. Tomorrow would be an early morning.

Sam awoke once more late that night. "What do you know?" Tern hissed at him.

Sam blinked blearily.

Tern stared at him.

"Is someone else dead?"

"My client list," he responded.

Sam was too tired and in too much pain to care. "What about it?"

"They've all been arrested," Tern replied. "Every. Last. One."

"And why do you think I had anything to do with it?"

"I don't. But you must know something given how well you know – knew – Celaena," Tern clarified. "Does she have copies of Arobynn's client lists?"

"No," Sam replied. "But I don't know what she's done since I died."

Tern glared, put his hand on his sword, and then turned out the door.

The next morning the palace emptied. While Manon flew to the plain, Dorian having come back to accompany her, most marched in a solemn procession to the spot where the Thirteen sacrificed themselves. Around the spot was a vast camp full of tents, brooms, wyverns, and witches.

The spot itself was marked only by a plaque with Manon waffling on a statue's necessity and design. There were flowers strewn on the spot of all varieties. Humans stood apart from the witches, but brought more flowers to join those brought from the wastes.

Manon stared at the spot and laid down a bouquet of her own next to where Dorian laid one he had brought. Despite her discomfort with it, Manon allowed the various women she had fought alongside to hug her one-by-one.

The witches watched with curiosity, but the humans watched as the cold and perfect witch queen tried to seem fine, as she tried not to cry. Aelin watched as Manon's hand twitched towards Dorian as if hoping for a comforting squeeze. He either didn't notice or knew she wouldn't want her weakness to show. Aelin didn't know and frankly didn't want to pry in their fragile whatever they had.

After some time of quiet mourning, a crochan witch came forward holding a tiny witchling. Manon turned towards the pair and stared with bleary eyes.

The witch introduced herself quietly and held her child up to Manon. Close up, Aelin could see the witchling's golden hair. "What's her name?" Manon whispered.

"Asterin," the crochan responded.

Manon – the terrifying witch queen herself – began to sniffle. Aelin almost came to her side, but Dorian was there first. He placed a hand on her back and stood there as tears began to slowly roll down the queen's face.

The crochan witch stood with her child, emotion showing on her face as well as Manon kissed the witchling's forehead.

That kiss spurred at least two dozen other witches – ironteeth and crochan – to come forward with witchlings of their own. Each witchling was named after a member of the thirteen to commemorate their sacrifice in bringing fertility and prosperity back to the witch kingdom. Manon kissed each one on their forehead, trying to regain her composure. Then pregnant witches began to ask her to bless their pregnancies on behalf of the thirteen.

Aelin hadn't realized how many witchlings would come out of the newly healed witch kingdom, but she supposed they were due after 500 years of infertility. She noted that Manon seemed just as surprised.

Bronwen moved over to explain. "Manon's been working too hard to pay attention, but many of the witches heard of her thirteen's yielding in golden light. That followed by the return of fertility to witches has led many witches to worship them in relation to witchlings."

Aelin stared at Manon, watching the queen struggle between mourning and joy. She knew the two of them would be having a discussion – or more accurately a period of sitting in silence and eating chocolate with no males in sight. It was something they did periodically when either one got too emotionally conflicted and needed a fellow queen to ground herself.

In the afternoon the witches began to cook traditional food – a feast to honor the thirteen. While the ironteeth were eating raw meat, the crochans cooked food to share with the growing human crowd.

Aelin and her court sat back watching from a tent, but took time to mingle with those that came to see them. Tonight was for Manon, who was out walking among the witches, looking somewhat lost. She'd gotten better as a queen: kissing babies was good queen 101, but there was work to do. Elide, away from her mother's side to show support for Manon, whispered helpful information into Manon's ear as they walked.

There was also something of a phenomenon, possibly related to Bronwen's earlier statement: witches taking human men away with them. To the tents, to the woods, next to a wyvern. Lysandra and Aedion were having a good laugh at the shamelessness they exhibited.

Aelin gave Ren a sly smile as Petrah tried to pull him back towards the palace. She would have been more nervous if Manon hadn't threatened to kill any witch that murdered her human partner – as long as said human partner hadn't raped her, then he was fair game. Dorian probably would have been similarly eager for a go at Manon if he wasn't so worried about her mental state.

During the solemn trek back to the Palace, Manon sent Abraxos alone and pulled Aelin aside. She didn't talk to Aelin, just walked quietly at her side for some time. Elide flanked Manon's other side. When Dorian made to approach, Aelin shooed him back.

Back at the door to her chambers, Aelin hugged Manon and escorted her inside. Someone – likely Dorian – had already placed a bottle of wine and a box of Manon's favorite chocolates on the table.

Aelin didn't know what to say to the witch, so she sat and waited for Manon to speak. The witch reached over to grab a piece of chocolate. She took the time to open the box rather than ripping it open as she had done on previous such nights.

After some time, she turned her eyes to Aelin's. "Witchlings… The witchlings…" She said.

Aelin waited for her to say something else.

"I knew there were pregnancies and some born," Manon stated. "But to see so many of them – there haven't been this many born in centuries."

"Your thirteen are very proud," Aelin responded.

Manon stared at her. "I miss them," she admitted.

"It doesn't make it easier," Aelin responded.

"No," Manon agreed.

"Have you thought…" Aelin stopped herself halfway through the question. It was inappropriate to ask – even if it had been on her mind since that morning. Even if she felt she could only ask another queen.

"Not now," Manon replied. "If it happens, but now there is so much more to do."

Aelin nodded. "Are you taking a potion?" She wondered if she should, now that having an heir wasn't as pressing.

"No," Manon answered.

The two queens sat in silence once more, their solidarity silent again.

Some time later, Aelin stood up. "Is it alright if I leave?" She shouldn't ask, but she would have wanted Manon to ask her.

"Send Dorian," Manon said. Her face looked slightly brighter – slightly more witch-like once more.

Aelin wanted to make a joke, but held back. The door shut behind her as she went to look for the King.

Sam lay in bed. Today, after the client list had been decimated by arrests, Tern had sent a healer to him again. Now he could walk, weakly, to the bathroom. It was as if Tern was hoping Sam could get back onto the job.

The guard next to his door shifted nervously while the one at the window maintained a sickly expression.

"Is something wrong?" Sam asked.

The guards looked at each other.

"Is this something to do with the client lists?"

The guards didn't speak, but the one by the door threw a piece of paper at him. It was a news pamphlet from the evening release. Sam read the article listing dozens of names: the client list, names that made up half the assassin's guild's number, and some support staff that had helped the assassins ply their trade. All had been arrested in a mass sweep orchestrated by one Chaol Westfall, hand of the King.

If that much had happened, Celaena had to be involved. No one knew if she was still working for the king, but she at least was feeding him information. If she wasn't working for him, it was possible she had done it after selling the guild. Maybe everyone had been lying in wait for the right time. Maybe now was that time – maybe it had nothing to do with him.

He rolled to look out the window, revising his plan trying to figure out how to reach her.

Knocking on Aelin's door woke her up. She and Rowan had gone to bed early, exhausted and needing rest for the third and final day of celebration: the most festive of them all. The knocking displeased her, but she worried something had gone wrong. She climbed out of bed and to the door. On the other side stood Lysandra.

"What's wrong?" Aelin asked.

"Nothing yet," Lysandra replied. "I gave Chaol the client lists as you wanted. They've all been arrested. But Tern is getting more suspicious of Sam. His earning potential is saving him right now, and I sent the list Chaol had of assassin names to make his value more obvious. That will buy us time."

Aelin nodded. "I may have to go. Or do we trust Dorian?"

"Do we?" Lysandra asked, an eyebrow raised.

Aelin didn't respond. She only put her robe on and led Lysandra down the hallway. They snuck into Manon's parlor, knowing Dorian would ignore Rhoe and Evalin's advice at Manon's request.

While Manon was immediately awake, Dorian took more time to awaken. Aelin was relieved that both were clothed – though in this case Manon wore a dirty shirt presumably stolen from Dorian's laundry.

"I need you to arrest Sam," Aelin commanded Dorian.

"What?" Dorian asked her.

"We need him out, but we need the assassin's guild to remain in place with Tern at it's helm," Aelin told him. They'd discussed this: they could ruin the guild entirely, but another one would pop up – and another one might be harder to control.

"Arrest him from the room he's being kept in?" Dorian asked her. "Guarded?"

"Arrest the guards if you need to," Aelin told him.

"It would make more sense if Adarlan's Assassin carried that out," Dorian replied.

"Fine," Aelin replied. "But Sam won't be taken to the dungeons."

"Only the guards," Dorian said. "Take him to your old room. I always keep it open in case you visit."

"And for easy access to the tunnels," Manon added.

Aelin smiled. "He's sneaking you out for dates in Rifthold?"

"A girl needs to be spoiled," Lysandra replied. "I've helped him orchestrate some of them."

Aelin made a show of being offended. "You made a point of asking Lysandra and not me?"

"You only know the worst date spots – or at least the ones with the most rats," Lysandra replied. "Though Manon might have enjoyed the pits. If you hadn't destroyed them, that is."

Aelin flipped her friend off. "Then cover for me if I'm not back by the time the sun is up." She stepped through the portal into Dorian's bedroom and disappeared from sight.

"Her mother's fae enough to know you're not her," Manon stated.

"I don't think she particularly cares about getting in trouble. She's queen," Lysandra replied. "But she may care about not checking the festivities before they kick off tomorrow, or the lack of sleep."

"Are you going to sleep?" Dorian asked her. "I believe we'd like some privacy here, but I know that's too much to ask fae and witches."

"I'm human," Lysandra replied. "Mostly." She shifted back into ghost leopard form before leaving the room, leaving a sleepy Dorian to close the doors behind her.

Aelin hated becoming Celaena, but tonight she had to do it – her miscalculation had led to the urgency, after all. She thought she had more time. She slunk through the streets of Rifthold to the Assassin's Keep.

Dorian, through his spy, had pinpointed the exact room in which Sam was being kept: her old room. She knew how to sneak into it. She knew ten different ways into that room. She'd done it far too many times as a teenager. For the sake of speed, she went onto the roof.

She'd knock the guards unconscious and bring them to the roof where she would have the two Rukhuin in residence at the palace to pick them up. She would bring Sam in herself. She didn't know what to say to him, or even if he would be healed enough to speak himself, and that was what made her most apprehensive. How could she explain anything that had happened since he died: her identity, her marriage, the war… The list of things was too long. Somehow it made explaining this to her parents seem easier.

She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, she was no longer Aelin.

Sam was awoken by two soft thuds on the floor. By the time his eyes adjusted, there was no one in the room. He just caught sight of a leg being pulled out of the window and onto the roof. He was hardly well enough to walk, but walk to the window he did.

Before he knew what was happening a figure entered the room through the open window. He was sure it was Celaena by the way she moved, but couldn't bring himself to speak. Without a word she grabbed him and pulled him onto the roof where two giant birds were waiting.

"These two?" One of the riders asked. "Or that one as well?"

"I'll handle him myself," Celaena replied coolly. "Those two can go straight to the dungeon as far as I care."

"Yes," one rider replied with an awkward pause, as if he was trying to figure out what to call her.

Celaena turned and helped Sam's weakened body down a rope and through the hedges on the edge of the keep. He was surprised they weren't caught given how slow they were moving, but he supposed they may be low on security given all of the arrests that had apparently been carried out. She shoved him towards a waiting carriage, where a man's arms pulled him in.

"Done?" The man's deep voice asked. "So I can go to bed?"

"Your son would have woken you up if I didn't," Celaena responded – but her voice – that wasn't Celaena. It was, but the tone was somewhat softer, less cruel, less biting. He couldn't even tell if it was her: the cloak remained over her face and the lighting was too poor to illuminate her face.

"You haven't even met him yet," The man responded.

"Well there's a portal now. You or Yrene can easily bring him over tonight to meet us formally," Celaena, or whoever she was, said. She turned to Sam and put a bottle in his face. "Drink up."

"What?" He croaked. "You're not trying to poison me, are you?"

"No, it will help with the pain," Celaena responded, the cruel tone back in her voice. Now he felt he could trust her. He drank the vial. It didn't taste like any of the poisons Arobynn had him try. It simply tasted like a tea – one imported straight from the Southern Continent. Almost immediately he felt tired. His eyes closed again and he slumped over onto the wall of the carriage. That was when their conversation resumed.

"Aren't you going to cry?" The man's voice asked.

"I'll cry when I get to see him healthy and whole," Celaena – in that softer voice – answered. "And when I don't need to give a speech in six hours."

Sam immediately wondered why the hell Celaena Sardothein would be giving a speech, but he found himself unable to speak. He'd find out more by staying silent anyways.

"Are you going to try to sleep?" The man asked her.

She snorted. "Of course. Even Dorian and Manon needed sleep after yesterday. Didn't even try for a round."

The man sighed. "As much as I could question how you know that, I would agree that that is unusual when the two are together."

"No one told you the portal was between their rooms?" She asked with a hint of laughter – of happiness in her voice.

He sighed again. "Of course not. But you need to sleep."

"Yes, yes, I know. And I'm not taking Dorian's bed for this, or one of his shirts. Manon's already stolen his laundry pile through the portal. I think his scent helps her sleep at night," Celaena replied in that strange, joking tone of hers.

How did she know the King of Adarlan well enough both to joke about his sex life and his bed? He couldn't imagine this Dorian being anyone else. Then again, she had become Adarlan's Assassin…

"Not when your own bed is probably larger than most peoples' bedrooms," the man joked right back.

Had she slept with this man? Why did he know about her preference in beds? Sam supposed she had every right to move on, but to hear it – And the man had a baby. Was it Celaena's? Maybe this was why she had wanted him asleep on the ride back.

"Are you going back?"

"Immediately," Celaena told him. "Drop him off in my old room. Then I'm going to bed and you can return to Yrene and the little one. They should come see us tonight, or at least us females. The males can't tell a baby from a squirrel. It might get dangerous with them."

The carriage stopped. A short ride. Somewhere near the Keep.

They picked Sam up and carried him to a rolling table of sorts. He was closer to sleep than ever.

"I'll bring Yrene to see him tomorrow," The man told Celaena as her footsteps got further away. She wasn't trying to be quiet now. The place must be safe.

"Don't heal him too much – just the cuts and bruises. We don't want him trying to escape. That might injure him more," Celaena instructed him. "I'll be back tomorrow."

"By tomorrow do you mean when the sun is up or the next time the sun comes up?"

"The next time," Celaena clarified. "Goodnight, Chaol."

So the man was Dorian's right hand. Another puzzle piece to complete the picture. He tried to think, but ended up just pushing himself deeper into sleep.

Aelin woke up to the sound of women chatting. As a reflection of last year, and to force Manon and Ansel to dress nicely, she had recruited all of the women to get ready in her room. The men had been left to their own devices. None of the women had been convinced it was a good idea to let the men dress themselves, but Aelin half-heartedly assured them that Dorian could force them to comply. He couldn't by strength, but perhaps by charm or his magic. Apparently Rowan had already left.

Lysandra was already in her room running a bath. "You smell. Yes, I know you're awake. You need a bath."

Aelin stripped off her clothes, not caring about Lysandra. She'd seen enough of just about everything naked, she could handle Aelin's body. It was probably infinitely more attractive than anything Lysandra had fucked.

Only five minutes into Aelin's soak Lysandra forced her out of the bath. "Only an hour to get ready and everyone's already pillaged our breakfast." That got Aelin out of the tub quickly. Lysandra wrapped her in a warm robe and led her to the room where the other women were getting ready.

No one was in a dress yet. Most of the dresses were on hangers or dress forms ready to be donned, but none of the women were quite ready to get out of their more comfortable day clothes.

"Manon went missing while you were with Aelin," Elide told Lysandra. "You may want to go get her."

"Avoiding a dress again, is she?" Aelin asked. "I would have thought she liked Dorian's rather intense reaction to her last dress."

"It was a shame we weren't able to salvage it," Lysandra agreed.

"I thought the only one that did that were the fae, but I guess not," Aelin said. "That or Dorian's kinkier than we thought and brought daggers in."

"Maybe Manon shredded it herself," Elide said.

"I didn't," Manon announced as she entered the room. With her she brought one Yrene Westfall and her son.

Aelin rushed over to see her friends' child.

"He's going to be a ladykiller like his father," Aelin said upon seeing the baby's face.

"That will be a while," Yrene answered. "He's only five months old."

Lysandra came over and asked to hold him while Yrene sat down. She chatted with all the women as they coddled baby Westfall in between hair, makeup, eating, and dressing. Much to everyone's surprise, Manon was one of the most curious. She watched the baby's every movement, equally interested and innately protective. Although it took much convincing to get her to hold the baby, she eventually did with Elide's encouragement.

"You're having one of your own soon?" Yrene asked.

Manon stared at her like she had two heads. "No."

"I know you're not pregnant, but maybe soon," Yrene replied. "My offer of help to Aelin is extended to you and everyone in this room, you know."

At that, Manon tried to give Yrene's son back to her, but the healer just laughed. "Keep him for now. It will keep you out of the dress longer. But it probably won't keep the makeup away."

That was true. Elide had already started attacking her face with a brush and kohl stick. If the smell wasn't offensive enough, Manon was sure the result would be. A witch didn't wear makeup, but if Elide insisted she would try.

As Elide worked, she listened to Manon complain that Abraxos hadn't come back last night, determined to breed every blue female wyvern. Then she turned around to state she wasn't complaining, if only because she wanted more wyvern's with Abraxos's easily trained and docile out-of-battle temperament.

Yrene settled on a couch next to where Aelin was finally getting around to having her own make-up done with the help of Lysandra.

"Well, you're not pregnant either," Yrene said.

"No, but I'm sure I can wait longer than Manon," Aelin joked. "Dorian needs to watch out."

"I wanted to ask you, before I started healing Sam. What are your intentions with him?"

"I don't know," Aelin replied. "I obviously didn't know this would happen. I didn't even know if he'd be found in time."

"His injuries are quite severe," Yrene told her. "I was surprised they had anyone skilled enough to keep him alive, but he is a determined one."

Aelin sat silent for a minute. "I want to give him a second chance at his life. A good life. One where he has no owner and where he can travel as he wishes."

"Chaol said he seems to know nothing about what happened to you after being recruited to be Adarlan's assassin," Yrene said. "He knows nothing about Aelin. Or Rowan for that matter. You should break it to him soon, so as to give him more choice."

"I don't know how to," Aelin admitted. Somehow Yrene was just someone she admitted everything to – some healer bullshittery. "I didn't think I would have to. And given I knew the spirits of the dead were watching I kind of hoped he would have been too, but it seems he's like my parents and lost his memories of that time."

"You'll figure it out," Yrene assured her. "Tell him sooner rather than later so he isn't let down. He may have figured you'd have moved on while you were dead, but I don't know yet."

"He's honestly second only to me in skill," Aelin told her. "Heal him well, if slowly, so he can get back to that. If he wants to work for Dorian and Adarlan, fine, I can do my own dirty work, but I get first dibs."

Yrene laughed. "I'll be sure to let Chaol know."

And that was that. Yrene announced she had to get back to Rifthold with her son, who Manon was shockingly hesitant to hand over. Aelin finished up her hair and make-up. Lysandra and Elide made a team effort to shove Manon into her new dress. When they were all ready, they escorted Yrene back to the portal and moved to the grand hall.

It was showtime.

Sam woke up in a comfortable bed with no shackles in sight. He'd expected to awake to a jail cell, but he supposed having Celaena be the one to arrest him gave him some leeway. When he looked around he noticed that the room had small trinkets around it: a set of daggers discarded on top of the dresser, an empty dog food bowl, a pile of books. This was obviously someone's room – maybe that Celaena herself.

The fine wood door creaked open and a young woman came in, an aura of warmth surrounding her. Her smile made him more comfortable than he should have been. Behind her, a younger healer brought in a tray of supplies.

"Good morning, Sam," the woman greeted. "I am Yrene Westfall, a friend of Celaena's. She asked me to heal you."

Sam looked at her. "Where am I? Was I arrested?"

Yrene looked back. "They didn't tell you anything did they?"

"And you will?"

"As much as they'd allow me to tell you and perhaps a bit more," Yrene said. "But while you undress. I need to see your wounds."

The apprentice helped Sam take off his clothing while Yrene watched, assessing at each wound and injury.

"Some healing was done, but just enough to keep you alive and slowly heal on your own," Yrene observed, reaching for one of the larger wounds.

"Not if you don't answer my questions first," Sam stopped her.

"I can tell you where you are and what you're doing here," Yrene replied. "In just a minute." She lifted a hand to his shoulder and sent her magic through him. He flinched as he could feel its effects. "No infection or organ damage, but some anemia and many broken bones," she observed. Her apprentice began to set out various bandages and splints for her. Yrene instructed her to begin splinting his fingers as she talked.

"You're in Adarlan's Palace. To be more specific, you're in the room assigned to Celaena when she was Adarlan's Assassin," Yrene told Sam. "In fact, she still intends to use it when in town, although she hasn't been back for well over a year."

"She's not using it right now? But she's in town," Sam added.

"Very briefly, to save you, but she has another more respectable job now," Yrene replied. "She's tied up elsewhere, but she'll be back as soon as she can be."

"Respectable?" He snorted.

"She'll explain it to you, but I can't do that."

He made a noise as the apprentice began splinting his very painful fingers.

"As for why you're here," Yrene paused, making sure he was okay after one particularly strong grunt. "You were not arrested with the other assassins. Rather, A- Celaena, wants you to be healed enough to travel with her to where she is living. Perhaps offer you a job if you're willing to leave Adarlan."

"Leave Adarlan?"

"She's living in Terrasen now," Yrene responded.

Sam's eyes widened in surprise and something akin to bittersweet sadness. "She's back home."

"Yes," Yrene replied. "She is."

"Is she – Does she –"

"She'll tell you all that in good time. Today, just focus on the healing. This will be the start of a longer process," Yrene reassured him. "Don't make Celaena force me to give you another sleeping potion. You might miss her next visit entirely if I give you one of those."

Sam lay back and sighed. Outside his window the hawk that had been watching him talk to Yrene flew away.

Rowan came to visit Aelin as she sat alone after her speech. Her people had loved her speech, along with those of the women of her court. No men were allowed to speak – not that they wanted to. Right now was her time to relax and have a small lunch before the party. Rowan began to rub her shoulders.

"Your parents want to see you," Rowan told her.

"Before I see them, is he safe?"

"Yes, fireheart," he said. He kissed her neck affectionately. "Yrene's with him."

She moved to look her mate in the eyes. "Then get my parents. We can go to bed later." She tickled his chin as if he were a dog for the effect. "Go, fetch."

Rowan shook his head and left to get her parents. He returned with Rhoe and Evalin. Gavriel, Aedion, and Lysandra came with, eager to have a family lunch.

"I thought it was just my parents? Or did the whole gang come?" Aelin asked Rowan.

"Elide and Marion went to eat with the witches now that Dorian's in Adarlan for the day," Lysandra informed her.

"Then shall we eat?"

Rhoe came up behind his daughter. "It was a lovely speech my dear," he said, kissing the top of his daughter's head. "What a queen you've become. Though would it kill you not to sneak out the night before? Are you determined to give us a taste of those teenage years we've missed?"

Rowan tried to look sympathetic to Rhoe, but Evalin's quiet, calm, simmering anger was something else entirely. If Aelin thought he was too concerned about her safety, she obviously wouldn't be happy with her mother's thoughts on her escapades. At least she kept him in the loop now.

"You very well know what I was doing," Aelin replied, sipping her tea, trying not to challenge her father. Rowan could see her struggling not to give a sassier response. She was trying to get used to having people care about her safety again. "And I did not face any attackers, I was the attacker."

"What did you do exactly?" Evalin asked her daughter.

"Later," Aelin replied.

"Not later," Evalin stated. "Now."

Rowan squeezed Aelin's shoulder for moral support. "I went to rescue my former lover. The one who was resurrected with you."

"And?" Evalin asked.

"And arrest the two assassins that were guarding him," Aelin answered.

"And?"

"And I had to break into the Assassin's Keep of Rifthold to do it," Aelin admitted.

"And?"

"Nothing else. I left no evidence, they don't know who did it, and I got Sam to safety within the Palace," Aelin said.

"You did leave your pseudonym's initials for them to find," Rowan replied.

"That was Manon," Aelin told him.

"In the note you left them?"

"That was me," Aelin sighed. Her parents looked angry. "Look, I only killed two of the top three assassins there – with Manon's help – and some of their underlings and had half of the rest arrested."

Her parents looked at her. Her mother still with some anger, but also relief, and her father in awe. In the background, Lysandra chuckled while Aedion looked angrier than Evalin. Gavriel just sighed.

"We'll discuss this later," Evalin said. "For now we'll eat. Then we're taking time to cover up those dark circles under your eyes. Properly."

"Yes, mother," Aelin sighed and picked up her cup.

A/N: So this chapter got out of hand. More of this day to come in the next chapter.