Crowned: an ACOTAR collection
Morrigan
Word Count: 461
Summary: A collection of stories on how the Inner Circle and the world around them came into their respective powers. Please review.
Author's Note: I wanted to do Mor of this story (pun intended) since I started it so of course, I did More MorTM. THIS IS OF COURSE MEANT TO BE CANON SO TELL ME IF I DID IT WRONG
She was terrified.
She had done everything to stop it. Everything to stop the power from rushing through her blood.
It had begun in her heart, and she had worked so hard to keep it there.
But the magic had other thoughts, and although she restrained it, it broke loose, wild and free like she never would become- (lie) and rushed through her veins.
Lies are meant to make you see nothing.
Yet- she saw.
Truth.
She had been afraid her power would be the killing power, like the Illyrians had, the power to kill and create weapons, or perhaps the ability to mist, to turn soldiers and items into nothing but fog. Maybe she would become a shadowsinger like the one Rhysand had told her about- what was his name- oh, Azriel.
But when she got her power, it wasn't a relief at all.
Truth.
That was her power. Pure, unabashed truth.
Oh, she could still lie, of course. What would become of a High Fae, a creature of deception, who could not lie?
But she could see through every one.
"I feel nothing for him."
Lie.
"The last human queen was sick."
Lie.
"No, it wouldn't be so bad…"
Truth.
She had fed on truth, relished the small moments her family did not lie to her- was that why she suddenly saw so much of it?
Was that why it hurt so much when her family lied- when they told her that despite her power, her ability- they were still better and more powerful than her- a lie- is that why it hurt so much when they told the truth, that they were selling her to be used for breeding, to be used as a wife of the Autumn Court, and she saw the horrible, disgusting truth in it?
She wrote to her cousin.
The letter was elaborate, but the message was simple: Please, help me stop this. Please, please, please don't let them take me.
He wrote back within seconds.
I'll do everything I can
And then the letter trailed off, the corner torn, as if the letter had been ripped away from him and he had only had a small amount of time to send it back.
But she saw the truth (and hated it.)
She knew her cousin, knew Rhysand would do everything possible to stop her family.
She was thankful, but still terrified.
He was the son of a High Lord known for his cruelty. On his last visit, there were marks all along his wings and along his back. He hadn't said what had happened, but she had known.
No one would dare hurt the son of the High Lord of the Night Court.
Lie.
No one, but the High Lord himself.
Truth.