A/N:

Hey guys this is going to be the last chapter! Honestly, I didn't expect it to go on for so long! This story was actually just meant to be a one shot, believe it or not. Anyway I wanna thank all my readers for actually reading this. You guys rock. I hope you can feel this enormous hug I'm giving you. Anyway, peace out. Hope you enjoy.

"She has Fae blood?!" Rowan was aghast. He had smelled something different on the girl when he had first met her but he had been too distracted to think about it, by the chanting in his blood and bones. Mate mate mate. He had hated the blonde haired princess, he had thought that she was working sorcery on him. Some kind of witchy trick that only humans knew. After all, humans didn't mate with Fae. Humans weren't allowed sacred traditions like the mate bond they were a privilege for Fae only. He had tried his godsdammned best to hate the princess. Tried to convince himself that she was a selfish spoiled brat. But he had been drawn to her fiery personality and general disregard for what people thought of her. If he was being honest; she reminded him of himself. Back when he was a few centuries younger. When all he could think about was glory and war. But times, how they change. Rowan had learned to be wary of battles, you never knew how quickly the tide of fighting could turn. That was why he still wasn't sure what to make of the white haired princess.

Aelin didn't eat anything for two days. No matter how many times there was a knock at the door, she barely heard it over the pounding on her head. Aedion, Lysandra, Elide, Galan even Fenrys tried to coax her out, but as soon as she heard their voices at the door she would cover her ears and close her eyes tight. The only person over the span of three days, that she had contact with was Melancholia. The serving girl didn't speak-for which Aelin was grateful- but simply went about her duties. Changing the bedspread each morning. Placing folded clothes back in drawers and in her spare time, rocking in the old wooden chair and sewing embroidery onto pillows. On the third day, Aelin was finally coaxed out of bed and made to eat a bowl of broth with bread. She still didn't talk though and instead stared at the page of the book that she hadn't turned in 48 hours. She still kept the door locked however and still ignored the constant requests for her to come out.

When she slept, Melancholia crept to the door and opened it. Elide who had been leaning against it, fell backwards. " Sorry miss." Melancholia whispered. " It's fine." Elide said. She struggled to her feet and brushed nonexistent dust off her skirt. " How is she?"

The other girl winced. " Not good I fear miss. I only just got her to eat something. I can't imagine for the life of me, what this is about." Elide crept over to the bed where Aelin slept restlessly. Her hand was folded between the pages of the book she had been staring at. Carefully- she pulled the book out from underneath the blonde girls hand. She stared down at the pages and nausea rolled in her stomach.

Amie looked up at her mate and grinned he smiled back, the kind of smile that rivaled the sun for brightness. He folded her in his arms and - for the first time- she was home.

" Oh Mala." Elide murmured, horror struck. She turned to Melancholia. " Please continue to take care of the princess, I must find Lady Lysandra." The serving girl nodded like she understood.

Rowan was woken by a pounding sound echoing chamber. He glared- bleary eyed at the door and waited for the annoyance would go away. When the tapping did not cease he rolled out of bed groaning. Still shirtless, he padded to the door and flung it open fully prepared to give the people on the other side a thorough beating. What he was not expecting was two dark haired, slips of girls barging into his room and yelling at him. " How could you do this." The one with green eyes raged at him. The other smaller one glared at him with dark eyes that promised a slow death. "You have no idea what you have done." The dark eyed one snapped. "You have ruined her!" Rowan had to assume that they were talking about the princess. Our mate, a voice whispered inside his head- but he ignored it. "You don't know how long she has waited for her mate to come." The green eyed girl was practically screaming now, tears of anger gathering in her eyes. " and he turns out to be you!" The dark eyed she-demon placed a hand on her friends shoulder. "Leave." She said coldly. "Go, far far away. I would never wish you back. And-" she leaned closer onto his face. "- Mala help you if you break her heart even more than you already have."

Aelin sat with her back against the door and listen to the sound of Aedion breathing. " Come out Aelin." He pleaded. " It's been four days." When she remained silent he slumped down and sat on the floor with his back against the paneled wood of the door. The two cousins remained like that for quite some time. Each listening to the others breathe to remind themselves that even if they were not well, they would survive.

Aelin watched the dusk creep pumpkin colored fingers over the window panes. Watched as it hid from the moon behind a mountain range in the distance and watched as the whole world fell to sleep. Then, ever so silent, as if she were being compelled by some unseen force she crept to the door, unlocked it and slipped outside.

Once upon a time, under constellations not seen in this world. Two figures met on a balcony that overlooked the universe. They were cautious at first but walked to the railing and stood side by side watching the world. Then -hesitantly the bigger shadow reached out and placed its arm around the smaller. The Lord of the North smiled down at them from the stars. They were home.

S/A/N:

Wow. I can't believe I made it this far!

I really hope you liked it and shoutout to my best friend littledreamergirl101 for constantly supporting me. (And occasionally whacking some sense into me when I went too overboard.) I know that people say that I'll grow out of this. Loving writing and reading. That I will eventually forget why I loved it and move on to something else. But the truth is, they are not just characters, they are the authors thoughts and dreams brought to life through letters.

- Clockwork.