Hello, friends! Things are getting a bit more ~complicated~ in the next few chapters so please stick with me!
Disclaimer: I am not Sarah J Maas and (as always) I do not own the characters
Without further ado...
Fenrys stared at the tired queen that stood before him. "For help?" He was in shock. He knew he was in shock. In the weeks he had known Aelin, she had never once asked for help. Never prayed, or screamed in frustration at her lot in life. She put her head down and soldiered through, planning and scheming. To hear her say this, now… they must be in worse shape than he had thought. Aelin rubbed at her eyes; one of the few expressions of defeat she would show. "We need allies; we need weapons and supplies. But most, we need soldiers. Even at my most powerful, I would never be able to make a dent in the fleet Maeve is surely sending our way, even with Rowan, Dorian and Lysandra helping me." Fenrys' jaw clenched. He said quietly, "You have much more help than Lysandra and Whitethorn, Aelin. You have me, Aedion, and the rest of the soldiers. We may not have magic, but we have steel. And you of all people know how effective that can be." Looking up from her letter, Lysandra met his eye - and there was nothing human in her stare.
Walking further into the room, Fenrys asked, "Who have you written to so far?" Lysandra sighed. "Everyone we can think of. Unless you know of some secret army?" Fenrys froze. Memories threatened to escape their place, tucked in the depths of his mind. Memories…memories of a sudden, brilliant smile. Of winnowing though a war camp. Of crying, leaving… wanting to turn back but not daring… Fenrys opened his mouth, not quite knowing what would come out. "No. Nobody." The words sounded strange in his mouth, like it was a lie. It felt like a lie; those memories were proof that it was. "Fenrys?" Lysandra's voice was softer now, more questioning. It had always been said that shifters were the most perceptive. Now he could see just how true that was. His chest was tight. Fenrys rubbed at it absentmindedly and chewed on the right way to answer Lysandra's probing, concerned question.
There is someone. I know there is. Someone… someone with power. Or someone who had it, or will have it. So why can't I remember?
Fenrys met the shifter's inhuman gaze before looking at the broken queen standing before him, proud and regal as she admitted to weakness.
"No one." Aelin sighed and rubbed at her eyes again. Fenrys couldn't help but notice that her beautiful Ashvyer eyes looked beautiful even when she was tired. "Thanks anyway, 'Rys. Can you - can you keep this between us? The others don't have to know yet."
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