A/N:

Sorry this chapter was late, but I've been binging Supernatural with my awesome friends and I lost track of my updating schedule. They are trying to catch me up because I've never seen it before. I'm on season two (I know, I'm really behind) and it is absolutely incredible.

Lorcan:

Lorcan was drinking and it wasn't even past noon.

It had to be happy hour somewhere in the world he supposed, but that didn't change the fact that he was absolutely and utterly out of it.

He downed another shot of whiskey, leaning heavily on the coffee table.

Those witches had ruined his life. They'd only been there three days and already Elide was inseparable from them. Flying that goddamned creature around the grounds with Manon and the rest of the demons. Making war plans with Nehemia and that chocolate skinned witch. Gwenevieve? Ghislaine? Something like that. Lorcan could honestly say he didn't care what her name was. He just knew he hated her. She was too smart, too conniving. Just the type of person Elide would associate herself with.

As for that Manon, Lorcan didn't see what the fuss was about. Everybody practically fell at her feet when she walked past. Either too scared or too in awe to look her in the eye. It was sickening, the way she smiled at Elide. The only witch Lorcan could claim to even remotely tolerate was the Queen's right hand, Asterin.

She was loyal, but to a fault. Lorcan had heard her challenge her leader multiple times over decisions that she agreed with. Not in public of course but the witches severely underestimated the power of Fae hearing.

She actually seemed to give a shit about Elide. Which earned her points immediately in Lorcan's book.

She was softer than the others somehow, but at the same time not. There was a different kind of steel in her eyes, loss, not just the brutality that came from an abusive upbringing.

Other than that, he hated them.

"Lorcan." Aelin said bluntly, dropping down onto a chair next to him. She leaned over him for the whiskey bottle. Holding it by the neck, she took a swig right out of it, ignoring the stack of empty glasses on the table.

Lorcan snatched it from her with a snarl but then drained the last drops of it himself. He barely refrained from smashing the empty bottle on the table.

Aelin ignored him and reached behind her for a second bottle off the counter. She held it out to Lorcan who used his Fae strength to wrench the cork out. She retracted it and took a swig, making a face as the liquid burned its way down her throat. She handed it to Lorcan and they passed it back and forth for a while. A long while. Before they knew it, the bottle was empty.

"Witches?" Aelin asked him finally, voice slurred a little from the alcohol.

"You too?" Lorcan grumbled back. They were both drunk. Too drunk considering the early hour.

Aelin made a sound of angry agreement. "The way their Queen hovers about Elide-"
"What does she even want from her?" Lorcan finished, they both drink in silence contemplating the answer.
"She won't leave with them." Aelin said, "When this is all over. She'll stay with us. Her family, she knows we love her." Lorcan could hear the uncertainty in her voice. "She seems so content in the skies though." Aelin continued and he was happy to listen to her ramble in silence. "That beast of hers, she loves it too. She finds it hard to ride horses you know, that leg of hers still hurts sometimes. She loves being able to be fast again. She likes the freedom."

With a final hiccuping sigh, Aelin laid her head down on her arms and proceeded to slip into a state of semi unconsciousness. Muttering to herself, unaware of anything else around her. Lorcan watched her for a bit, debating getting another bottle of alcohol out. He would have done it, but at that moment, Aedion and Rowan came bursting into the room, frantic and wide eyed.

Aedion started to say, "Have you seen-" When the both caught sight of her, dozing with her head on the table.

Rowan growled in frustration and stalked over, seizing the empty bottle off the table. He turned it around to read the label and slammed it back down in annoyance. "I can't believe you let her drink that."

Lorcan shrugged and picked up the bottle again. Putting it to his lips just in case there was residual alcohol inside. "I didn't let her do anything. She's a big girl. She can make her own decisions."

Rowan scooped Aelin out of the chair and hugged her close. She mumbled and shifted, her head rolling back and Rowan accommodated her movements with ease.

When she was curled up like this, Lorcan could see just how much these past few weeks had taken a toll on her. Her hair was a rat's nest. There were dark bruises under her eyes.

Gods damn. He was sure the others had noticed. Why else would Fenrys have been so determined? Following her cross-country, just to make sure she was alright.

No wonder Rowan was so over the top protective. Snarly and moody.

No wonder Elide had thrown herself so desperately into planning, determined to finish this as quickly as possible.

And Aedion and Lysandra, obeying every order without question, knowing that one wrong step would cause the Princess to break.

How was he always the last to notice these things?

...

On the eve of her and Rowan's first anniversary, Aelin had made him a promise.

He remembered being surprised when she had pulled him outside. Rowan, nowhere to be seen.

'Sorry to pull you away from the festivities' She had said, voice dry and full of humour. She knew he hated parties. It was just another one of the things that made them so different.

He had shrugged and asked what she wanted.

She had looked at him with sad eyes, then turned her gaze to the Lord of the North, beaming down at them from the heavens. It was suspiciously bright that night. The stars, seeming to glow with opalescent fire. 'I know you feel like an outsider, Lorcan.' She had told him.

And he covered his hurt with a scoff. Did she really hate him that much? Was she kicking him out? Fine, it wasn't like he cared. He could finally go back to Maeve. Finally go … home? Was Wendlyn still his home though, really?

Aelin looked at him again, sorrow so evident in her eyes. In that moment, she wasn't the carefree, happy girl he had come to know. She was the Princess of a kingdom, with responsibilities and burdens far greater than someone her age should have to bear. She had been all alone with the weight, and the help she had been handed like a reprieve from a death squad might just have been too little, too late.

'You shouldn't need to feel like an outsider.' She had said and taken him by the hands. The earnest look in her eyes was so strong that he had to look away. It was like she was begging him, willing him to believe her.

She said, 'Lorcan Salvatterre, I swear to you on my crown, that as long as you support us in times of need, we will support you. That's how family works. You will always be a member of this family, our family, so long as you wish to be.' She had released his hands and smiled up at him. Softly. He didn't think she's ever looked at him like that before, with such fondness. 'We care about you, Lorcan. Even though it doesn't seem like it sometimes. Just remember, no matter how lonely you feel, we will always be here for you.' Then she was gone, and Lorcan was left, all by himself, struck stupid. The Lord of the North, the only witness to the single tear that fell down his cheek.

Aedion:

Lysandra was sitting in his chambers when he walked in, curled up in a chair next to the window, watching with her head on her knees as the Wyvern's outside swooped and dove through the sky.

He took a seat next to her, sitting heavily. God's he was tired. They all were. Aedion had been run ragged. Fetching things for Aelin, settling disputes between the Adarlian's and the Iron teeth witches. There had been one incident in the square when one of the vendors had- it was too horrible to think about. The memory made Aedion shudder.

Then there was Rowan, who ordered him around like a puppy. It was infuriating. The fae prince acted like he didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. That he was expendable. Aedion toughed it out though, for Aelin.

Lysandra leaned her head against his arm. Rubbing back and forth like the cat form she sometimes liked to assume. She hadn't used her powers in a while, too busy with planning Aelin's wedding and then their impromptu road trip. And now, they were doing their best to make it easier for everyone.

They two were the ones taking the brunt of everyone's aggression. Aedion knew for a fact that Lysandra had been crying the other night because Chaol had yelled at her. Calling her useless and incompotent and some other unsavoury names. Aedion knew tensions were running high, but he had damn well felt like ripping the Lordling's head off.

The thing is, this wasn't even the part he was worried about the most. He was terrified of the fallout, whichever way this ended. No outcome was better than the other.

Option A. They would all die. The Gailemarian's would slaughter them all, they would take the Lord of the North and their kingdom would die.

Option B. They would win and then Aelin would be back in the same position she was before, they all would. Cooped up in a castle. All expected to perform gender-conformative roles.

Lysandra voiced his concerns, "I'm tired." She told him, "And scared."

He knew how much of a struggle it was for her to say those three words. All her life she had spent hiding away her fear and anxiety, putting up a strong, composed front that nobody, not even her family, was allowed to see past.

"I'm worried this war is going to destroy all of us."
"Me too." Aedion told her after a pause. "But we can't think about it right now. We'll be no use to anyone if we don't get some sleep."

Lysandra went completely still. "Can-" She stopped herself. If Aedion hadn't known any better he would have said she sounded shy.

"Can I stay the night? Please?" She rushed ahead before he could answer. "I just, I'll feel safer. Besides, I'm convinced that there is a secret passage in my room that the servants are using to spy on me."

Aedion huffed a laugh. "Yeah, of course."

They got up together and walked over to the bed. Aedion got in one side and Lysandra slipped under the covers on the other. The mattress dipped under the extra weight as Lysandra slid towards him, seeking body heat and warmth. He rested his chin on the top of her head.

It took a few hours of restless tossing and turning, hogging covers and kicking for room before Lysandra drifted into a fitful sleep. Curled firmly into his side.

Even then, it took another half hour for Aedion to drift off so he just lay there, staring at the ceiling.

Praying to whatever gods were out there for a happy ending.