Hello again, everyone! The ending of book three just won't leave me alone so my imagination is still running wild. The result is this second instalment.
II'll apologise now to any of you that are looking for action and big long scenes where lots of things are happening. If you want that you'll have to wait for book four because I'm really only good at introspection. I'll spend the foreseeable future mulling over little situations, either in the book or that are bound to happen, and how different characters feel about them, what's shaped them into who they've become etc etc. If you're up for that you're welcome to join in with my musings :) if you have any thought about characters feel free to mention them in a review and I'll do my best to let my imagination have at them.
Homecoming
Creeping across the rooftops of Rifthold, Celaena found herself wishing she could shift into her fae form.
It was hard, now, to believe that just months ago, as she has stood on these shores waiting to board the ship to Wendlyn, the fear of the transformation and the magic that came with it had been gnawing at her mind. A shadow that followed her everywhere. Now the deft skill and grace, never mind the heightened senses, might have given her the confidence to calm her racing heart.
Rifthold.
The home of two nightmare figures. The King of Adarlan and the King of Assassins.
The pulsing, rotted core of this Kingdom that had been the death of so many others, spreading across the country like a disease. Celaena had been too young to understand that every city had a dark side, at the time that Terrasen had fallen, and had spent so many years in Rifthold that until her journey to Varese that she hadn't realised the true depth of depravity and corruption that existed here until she had seen Varese for comparison. And that corruption was not just in Rifthold but in all the cities of Adarlan. She also hadn't realised just a how big a part in that corruption the Assassins Guild had played.
During her years at the Guild she had buried her past, even from herself while at the same time, learning it's skills as a tool for that same forgotten girl she had been. She had ignored the truth of what she was training to do, had forced herself to forget that she was as much a part of the underworld as thieves and prostitutes.
Now, the Valg Princes had given her a different perspective on things, had helped her re-find her honour and see the Assassins Guild for what it was. Especially Arobynn's theft of her amulet.
Scurrying across another rooftop she wondered for the hundredth time just what she was doing. The weeks aboard the ship from Wendlyn had given her plenty of time to think about what she was doing, come up with a plan and then question whether she had really lost her sanity in the attack on Mistward, because coming back here was nothing short of madness. She knew she had to get the amulet back, that was clear, but Arobynn had been the King of the Assassins for such a long time for a reason. She was Celaena Sardothien, Adarlan's Assassins. But right now her mortal form just made her feel weak and out matched. Especially after being put on her ass so many times by Rowan. That in particular had made her realise that she wasn't as flawless and infallible as she had sometimes liked to believe herself to be in the past.
Rowan. The weeks without him on the boat had been hard, the darkness that had enveloped her after Nehemia's death starting to creep back in at the edges. She held onto the thought that he had believed in her. He had believed in her. A Fae who had fought in countless wars over the centuries, seen who-knew-how-many kingdoms fall, seen innumerable rulers fail. He had believed in her. Despite the mutual hatred they had felt when they had first met. He would be her friend, her companion through all of this, no matter how dark things became. He had sworn a blood oath to her, the most unbreakable of bonds. Because he had wanted to. Because he believed in her.
Galvanising herself with that thought, again, Celaena continued her journey. She was finally going back to the place that had been her home. The only place she had ever had a taste of freedom.
The apartment she had shared with Sam. The pain in her heart when she thought of him was echoed by a phantom pain in her back.
She knew going back there was a risk. Both Chaol and Arobynn knew about it. If Chaol had worked out what she had told him before she left for Wendlyn there was a good chance that he had told the King.
The thought made Celaena shudder. She wasn't sure she could ever forgive Chaol for keeping the threat to Nehemia from her, for choosing his loyalty to that tyrant the over his loyalty to her, but the thought of him betraying her outright to the King felt fundamentally wrong to her. She had destroyed what was between them but the frequency of his appearances in her thoughts was testament to the fact that what she felt for him was still strong. If he really had gone to the King with what he had learned about her it was a betrayal only matched by that of Arobynn himself.
Her time under the power of the Valg had forced her to confront the truth about what had happened all those many moons ago. She always knew someone had betrayed her and somewhere inside she had always known it was Arobynn. But until now she had never let herself give it credence. She had accepted that he had let her get taken to Endovier. Had let her spend twelve grueling months there. Even though he had the power to get her out, to set her free at any moment. All because she had paid up her debts, had freed herself from him. He had told her that he loved her and maybe it was true in some distorted way. A way that wouldn't let her walk away from him without punishment.
Her skin crawled at the thought of that kind of love. The kind where torturing a young man until he was unrecognisable, sending the fledgling woman you loved to suffer in the slave camps seemed a fair punishment.
Soon she would put a knife through his heart, would watch him die and she would know no pity for that man. The day had been a long time coming but it wasn't far off now. She wouldn't rush. This couldn't go wrong. She would be meticulous and methodical because, although the desire for revenge was a constant thrumming in her blood, vibrating with the names tattooed on her back, this was first and foremost about the wyrdkey hidden inside the talisman that Arobynn had taken from her eleven years ago. That was her greatest weapon against the King of Adarlan.
As Celaena neared the warehouse that contained her apartment she cursed. There were lights in the windows.
Continuing her silent approach, she first circled the apartment, checking all the surrounding buildings, alleys and roofs for spies, then she began her inspection of her treasured apartment, trying to determine who was inside. What she saw first made her heart stop. There, in front of the fire, her leg fully healed, was Fleetfoot. Her coat had its usual lustre and the dog seemed relaxed as she watched the occupants of the room, and judging by the way she was looking in different directions there were at least two.
Sticking to the shadows Celaena moved to get a wider view of the room and the people within. First she saw a man sitting on the sofa. Her sofa. The man was young, no more than a handful of years older that she was herself, and had scruffy looking, long hair. The man in front of him with his back to her...
If Celaena had thought that her heart had stopped at the sight of Fleetfoot it was nothing compared to now, at the sight of him. Her heart seemed ready to burst, the pain and longing and anger all vying for her sole attention but each as strong as the other. The tumult of emotion was nearly enough to make her rush in. But she wasn't Adarlan's Assassin for nothing.
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to sit, to think.
It seemed the time for her to face Chaol Westfall, Captain of the Guard, had come.
