Elide:
Death flew on swift wings. Silent and deadly, bristling with scales and teeth.
Those who resided in the castle of Adarlan might have thought their world was ending.
There weren't many of them but with all the soldiers off to the war, they certainly could have torn the city apart unchecked. As it was, the day they came, villagers scattered and screamed, running for the safety of shops and houses. Children were whisked into arms and ones too old to be carried were seized by the hand and yanked away. Peddlers in the streets hurried to pack up their wares before the beasts swooped low over the city. Claws scraping over the roof tiles. Wings casting shadows on the sidewalks, courtesy of the sun beaming down from above, blissfully unaware of the impending darkness beneath it.
Locks fell firmly into place as cackles echoed through the now empty streets.
The dragon-like figures alighted in the courtyard of the stone castle and smaller forms, their riders, dismounted and gathered into a tight knit group. Their mounts pawing at the ground and snorting behind them.
Elide watched it happen from a parapet high up. Watched as Aelin strode out of the castle to meet the new arrivals. Rowan and Aedion right behind her. Fenrys, back in wolf form, at her heels. Elide whirled away, hurrying down the steps, lilac gown swirling around her ankles. Steps echoing in the hallways. She detoured a little ways through the castle and knocked on Nehemia's door. The princess answered immediately. Dressed in a gown of blue and gold, she looked like she hadn't slept, which was exactly what they had exiled her to do. Instead she looked like she had been pouring over strategy books and fruitlessly rearranging the figures and tokens on the maps.
Elide wasn't guessing. SHe could see the maps and books on a table inside Nehemia's chambers. She was unsuccessfully trying to half close the door so Elide couldn't see them.
The girl rolled her eyes and dragged the Princess out by the hand, nudging the door closed behind them. As fast as she could with her limp she led her through the corridors. "They're here." She said quietly, heeding the servants cowering behind laundry baskets and platters of food, trying to stay out of view of the windows. Nehemia straightened immediately, adopting a poised air. Smoothing her hair. Schooling her face into a slightly impassive mask. It was amazing to watch. In a few seconds, Nehemia had gone from sleep deprived to cool and collected, the perfect ruler, perfect leader. She quickened her pace, slowing down when she noticed that Elide was having trouble keeping up.
The two girls hurried down the steps, Elide stopping where Fenrys and Lorcan were standing by the base.
Rowan and Aedion were flanking Aelin, as serious as stone statues. Chaol and another young boy that Elide had heard Dorian refer to as Ren were on either side of the Prince in question. As Nehemia strode up, a beefy man and a small frail girl came to stand on either side of her.
The white-haired witch queen was flanked by her blonde second Asterin and her steady third, Sorrel. Lysandra stood to Manon's side, waiting for the time when she was allowed to rejoin the Cadre.
The four groups were standing in a wide circle, three of them sizing the other up. The latter smiling around like this was a vaguely amusing tea party she had been invited to.
This was not joyous and full of laughter and memories as their previous reunions had been, this was a diplomatic meeting.
Four rulers and their left and right hands, each asking the others for help in a war that none of them could win by themselves.
Dorian was the first to break the silence. "We welcome you," He said formally, with a bow of his head, "Thank you for coming."
Manon rolled her eyes, "It wasn't you I came for, Princeling. Nor you," She said, looking toward Aelin and Nehemia. " I came because Elide Lochan asked me."
She tipped her head toward Aelin in a silent order. Elide could see Aelin fuming. She hated being ordered around-but without taking her eyes off Manon, she gestured with a hand for Elide to come forward. Elide did, heedless of the growling noise Lorcan made deep in his throat. If she had been anything like Aelin, she would have made a dog joke. Something about marking his territory, but this was neither the time nor place.
She strode forward, the hem of her gown becoming damp with the remnants of that morning's dew. She stopped when she reached Aelin. Something warm bumped against her back and she looked up to see that Lorcan was right up behind her, glaring openly at Manon and her followers. Manon, being the shit stirrer she was, ignored him, but snapped her iron teeth down and smiled at Elide. "Hello, Witchling." She said, voice rather akin to the purr of a car.
Lorcan snarled.
"Lorcan," Aelin snapped, but she looked bothered by the nom-de-guerre as well.
"You can't have her." He said, ignoring her and focusing all his attention on Manon. Asterin and Sorrel both unsheathed their iron nails. Whether over Lorcan's hostility toward their queen or over her, Elide didn't know.
"Lorcan." Elide hissed, elbowing him in the torso. He didn't even flinch.
"She was ours first." Lorcan said paying no mind to the tension between the parties. As thick as steel cables. "And you can't have her."
Manon raised an eyebrow. Lifting a cautioning hand at Asterin and Sorrel. "Contrariwise, Brute. I knew her longer and better than you."
Lorcan was shaking with silent rage now. Rowan and Aedion both had their hands on their weapons. Dorian and Nehemia's guards were doing the same. All looking ready to jump in front of their respective leaders.
"She belongs with us." Lorcan told the witch. "She is a member of my family."
And in that moment Manon was like a bomb. Elide could see it in her eyes. Her fuse was short, flickering. The slightest moment could set her off.
"She-" The Witch said, low and dangerously. "Is an Iron tooth witch. She is one of my Thirteen and she is not the property of any man."
Elide lost her patience with both of them. "I am owned by nobody." She snapped. She turned to Lorcan and shoved at his chest. "Go."
Aelin saw an opening and quickly took control of the situation. "Lorcan, back off."
It wasn't a request this time. It was a command. A Queen to the subject that was expected to obey.
Lorcan snarled at Manon one final time, whirled around and stormed back to Fenrys.
Lysandra gave Elide a look that conveyed both sympathy and amusement. Elide gritted her teeth and turned back toward Manon. "It's lovely to see you again, My Lady."
Manon snorted. "To Hellas with that horseshit." She strode forward and pulled Elide into a one armed, albeit crushing hug, that Elide knew was only half because she had missed her and the other half to wind Lorcan up. It worked.
Manon pulled back, doing a pretty crappy job of hiding her smile. Asterin stepped forward and squeezed her hand warmly, offering a smile free of Iron teeth. It would never stop amazing Elide, how much the Witches actually cared for her. They didn't let anyone see how much they actually cared for them and theirs, so afraid after a rule of tyranny and viciousness. The fact that they had greeted her so openly in front of an audience astounded her.
Sorrel actually went so far as to brush a hand over her hair.
"Thank you for coming." Elide told them.
Manon shrugged, "You asked us to come, so we came. Blackbeak's look after their own."
She would have said something equally supportive in reply but just at that moment, Ansel of Briarcliff stormed down the castle stair and marched towards them, breezing straight past Lorcan and Fenrys, the latter of whom, looked like a kicked puppy when she ignored him. She stopped when she reached the circle and just stood there with her arms crossed.
At Aelin's nod, Lysandra walked over to stand with the rest of the Cadre, the less people in the way of this potential explosion the better.
Nehemia looked like she was trying to hold back from rolling her eyes. Dorian was extremely unsubtly staring, enraptured, at Manon.
"Who are you?" Manon demanded, looking her up and down. To be fair, Ansel was dressed in Xandrian leather. It was made for the vast deserts, so it was light and built to withstand sandstorms as powerful as cheese graters. That did not mean, however, that it would withstand the streets of Adarlan, which was, without a doubt, the more dangerous terrain. She looked like a street girl, the kind that you see lurking in dark alleys, wearing tight leather clothes. The kind that would lure you into a room, knock you unconscious and you'd wake up hog tied with your coin bag and clothes gone.
"I am the Queen of the Western Wastes" Ansel said.
Manon raised her eyebrow. "What claim do you have on the wastes?"
Ansel scoffed, "More than you, that's for sure."
Thank Mala, Manon looked more amused than upset. " Really?"
"Really." Ansel told her.
"The Iron tooth witches have resided in that land for thousands of years."
Ansel's face scrunched up in displeasure. "You gave up any claim to the Wastes when you decided to slaughter an innocent and she cursed the land with her dying breath."
Rhiannon Crochan was hardly innocent." Manon shook her head. "She slaughtered hundreds of Iron tooth witches."
"She was defending her city." Ansel snapped. " Against your attack!"
"Okay," Nehemia inserted herself into the situation. Elide was glad. Out of all of them, she was the most likely to resolve this without blood being shed. "I am Nehemia Ytger," Nehemia said," Princess of Eyllwe." She held out a hand to Manon. Right, as per tradition.
Manon hesitated before pressing her palm into Nehemia's and squeezing firmly.
Nehemia made a slight nodding movement of her head at Dorian. It didn't go unnoticed by Manon who looked like she was holding back a laugh.
Dorian, thank Mala, got the hint and nearly tripped over stepping forward. Chaol barely restrained himself from reaching over to steady him. Elide could see the exasperation written in the lines of his face.
"Uh-you can come with me." Dorian looked like he was dancing with glee inside. "I'll show you to your rooms then to dinner."
Manon held up a hand. "We don't want rooms thank you. All we need is a dry place, preferably warm. The Wyverns prefer the warmth."
Dorian looked surprised, "Uh, how about the stables? I can have the servants clean it up and put in beds. The Horses are all out to pasture any-"
"Excellent." Manon said with a dismissive flick of her wrist. "Take us there now please."
"I-ok." Dorian looked struck stupid. Completely gone.
Manon gestured to her Thirteen. They had been so silent that Elide had forgotten they were there. (She actually wasn't sure if the Shadows were there. They and their Wyverns were noticeably absent. They were probably off spying somewhere in the castle.)
They followed Manon, each walking past her and bestowing some sign of affection.
Asterin was the last to pass. Taking the younger girl by the hands and pressing a kiss to her forehead. Elide was the only person who Asterin had confided in about the hunter she had loved and her stillborn child.
The only person who had ever seen the crude scars across Asterin's stomach. Unclean. The words branded there by the Blackbeak Matron herself.
So she was the only one who understood the nurturing instinct that the Witch carried. "I missed you, sister." She said, so quietly that only Elide could hear her.
…
That night, before dinner, screams heralded the arrival of a new beast. Elide looked to Manon questioningly. "We aren't expecting anyone else." Manon told her. They hurried outside, shoving past the other people who had gathered to watch the spectacle. The crowds parted like the Red Sea in the face of Manon's bared Iron teeth. In the middle of a circle of people, was a Ivory white Wyvern.
Elide knew her.
Knew the legs, scarred and broken, just as hers were. Knew the Opalescent skin that shimmered like quartz. Knew the intelligent purple eyes.
"Get back." She yelled at the castle guards, advancing on the Wyvern. "Get back!"
They hesitated for a minute. "Do as she says." Aelin snapped, appearing out of the crowd. "Lower your weapons now."
Elide didn't have the chance to shoot her friend a grateful look. She limped forward, toward the beast. Aelin tried to follow her but she heard Manon intercept her, "You won't get near her." The white haired queen said. "Even I can't."
"Why are you letting her near it then?" Aelin demanded angrily.
The Wyvern was thrashing and snarling at anyone who dared get close, dragging her spiked tail through the dirt.
Rearing up on her back legs then slamming down on the spiked wings that acted as a second pair of limbs.
Elide whistled sharply. A two tone note that had the Wyvern's head snapping up and it's tail ceasing it's turned slowly, the barbs on its tail dragging huge furrows in the dirt. It cocked its head at her, listening, waiting.
"Lilith." Elide ordered as she had done many times before, " Hush." Lilith stopped the odd snorting keening sound she was making.
" Be still." Elide ordered and Lilith tucked her wings into her back and settled down. Eyes watchful and alert.
"Good girl." Elide walked forward and laid her hand on her triangular head, running her fingers up over the pale scales. Lilith made a low pleased noise in her belly.
"She wants to fly with you." Manon said, coming up behind her. Lilith snarled and she backed off a little. "She missed you."
Elide spared her a glance and held out her hand for the bridle she knew Manon kept on her belt. She quickly slipped it on, Lilith only making a small noise in protest.
Manon made a sharp whistle and Abraxos came soaring over the crowd, landing next to Manon who swung up onto his back.
Elide swung a leg over Lilith and the Wyvern rose so she was standing upright. With a keening call and a beat of her mighty wings, she was soaring into the sky, tail coiling behind her.
Manon shot after her, both of them stopping to hover when they could see all the way over the rooftops.
"Race you." Manon said devilishly.
"You never could beat me." Elide told her.
"You were never faster than me!"
"Whatever you say."
The feeling of flying again was euphoric.