It's been a while, but I'm back! So this is an epilogue to this Fanfic.
I don't own any ToG material
9 months after the last chapter:
Queen Aelin stands in a large dressing room as Lady Lyssandra and two other women adjust her dress.
"Ouch!" Aelin baubles as Lyssandra does her hair.
"Chill, Aelin. You're going hyper. Now stay still, I'm trying to do your hair!" Lyssandra commands.
Aelin calms down and let's her twist, and flip, and comb her golden blond hair.
When Lyssandra finishes, she cover's Aelin's eyes and nods to the other two girls, Queen Ansel of Briarcliff and Manon Blackbeak-Havilliard.
They hurry to the wall and move a large silver mirror so that it sits directly in front of Aelin. Lyssandra removes her hand and Aelin gasps. Lyssandra had picked Aelin's dress for her, she hadn't known how it looked at all until now. Heck, Lyssandra had picked her hair style, her shoes, the bouquet of flowers she'd hold. Everything.
But, wow. This dress was amazing. The sheets of white silk flow down into a short train, the dress hugs me right where it should and hangs loose right where it should. Ansel moves to place a small crystal crown on my head, sitting neatly with the french braid Lyssandra had done.
Wow. Standing here in her wedding dress, Aelin felt amazing. Lyssandra, being her maid of honour, handed her a bouquet of fire blossoms.
The three of them move to stand in front of the doors that led into the great hall. The trumpets sound, and you can hear the sudden hush on the assembled crowd as the oak doors swing open. Aelin walks forward slowly, sure not to stumble in her way-too-high-heals that Lyssandra had picked out.
Aelin's three bridesmaids follow behind her as she walks down the aisle. Thousands of eyes follow her every step. When she get's to the top, everyone sit's down and Aelin turn's to face Rowan Whitethorn.
The ceremony drones on, Aelin, barely listening gazes at Rowan's pine green eyes. When the time comes, she whispers "I do," before repeating more loudly, "I do."
The sunlight from the towering window makes Rowan's hair shine.
When the priest says, "You may kiss the bride," Rowan surges forth and the newly wed couple embrace.
"Fireheart," Rowan whispers into her mouth.
"Buzzard," Aelin said back.
The priest announces, "Queen Aelin Galathynius, and King Rowan Whitethorn-Galathynius!"
The couple turn to face the cheering crowd, and hand in hand, they smile. But at the same time, Aelin is going bezerk in her mid that Rowan had changed his name without telling her he planned to do so. He would have hell to pay tomorrow, but for now, she enjoyed being with the love of her life and the greatest buzzard of all time.
