I'm so, so sorry for how long it's been. I just needed some time to work out the plotline, and how I'm going to write a fic that encompasses the books in much fewer words.

***IMPORTANT NOTE***: I will not update this story until I've finished my TMI fanfics. That shouldn't be anytime after February, but just as a forewarning. No updates for a while.

Disclaimer: I don't own ToG, and I would never claim to have the talent SJM has in creating it.

Dorian stormed out of the council room the moment they were dismissed, his breath a rasp of sandpaper against the rapid beat of his heart.

What they were planning to do to the assassin, who was merely a girl-

He made it all of two steps before he punched a wall, and swore profusely at the crack that emanated from his hand. He blinked his stinging tears out of his eyes, and to dissipate any lingering traces of anger, punched it again.

It didn't work, other than to cause more blood to flow down his knuckles, and to cause him to swear harder.

What monsters were they what monsters were they what monsters were they-

Another crack, like a cannon firing, and Dorian didn't have a moment to spare as the glass of the window exploded inwards, deadly chunks the size of his thumb flying around the corridor. He flinched and flung his hands up to cover his face even as the whirlwind stopped, and the shards fell to the ground, and shattered.

Panting, Dorian surveyed the wreckage. Glass that had been crushed to dust lay scattered on the floor, like an array of fallen stars.

But he hadn't so much as touched the window.

His heart pounded like the footfalls of some great beast, and the word hounded him even as he raced through the corridors, away from the glittering debris, away from the truth.

Magic.

He almost vomited again when the word reverberated in his skull, but he kept steady, kept running, the familiar corridors blurring around him until he was outside the one place he knew he could rely on to deliver support when he needed it.

Chaol jumped from where he appeared to have been drifting asleep when Dorian flew through the door to his chambers, and slammed it behind him, but one look at the wild terror in his friend's eyes, and he was rising from his chair, the written accounts he'd been clutching scattering onto his desk. "Dorian," he said slowly, like he might to a spooked animal. "What happened?"

And indeed, Dorian was acting purely on instinct as he caught at Chaol's hand and dragged him to the adjoining bedroom, where he was confident they would not be overheard.

Dorian's voice cracked as he said, "There's something I have to tell you."

When Aedion next stormed down into the dungeons, he was surprised by what he found.

His cousin, rather than sitting in the corner brooding as he'd come to expect her to, was on her knees near the bars, and there was an actual smile on her face as she turned to the side to stifle a snort of- By the Wyrd, was that laughter? She shivered slightly, and Aedion instantly wondered where the cloak he'd given her was. After a quick inspection, he noted it was in the cell opposite with. . . Kaltain Rompier. What was she doing down here? And why had Aelin given her the cloak?

Aelin laughed again, and Aedion's attention snapped to the person she was talking to. Princess Nehemia.

The Eyllwe princess had a sort of light to her face that Aedion hadn't seen when she was surrounded by the court. They exchanged quips and comments in flawless Eyllwe - Gods, Aelin was almost fluent. How had she learned it these past few years, living in Rifthold? But he couldn't bring himself to resent his lack of knowledge, not as he saw her sitting there, limned with the sunlight filtering through the windows, living and breathing and smiling. Nehemia's guards didn't look at all unnerved by their princess's proximity to an assassin; what had Nehemia told them? What had Aelin told them?

The look Kaltain Rompier threw the two girls was bitter and. . . wistful. There was even a little envy in that gaze.

Struck dumb by the sight for a moment, Aedion's strong stride faltered for an instant. It was brief, and over as soon as it started, but it was enough for Aelin to note the echoes that rebounded off of the dungeons' thick walls, and stiffen, turning to snap something half-heartedly at the guards she thought were approaching.

Her lithe frame relaxed when she saw it was just him, and she gave him a small smile. It was a sliver of happiness compared to what she'd shown Nehemia, but it was enough to make him smile back. The fact that she lived to bequeath him that smile was enough.

He walked the rest of the way until he was sitting directly in front of Kaltain from where she seemed inclined to eavesdrop on their conversation. With his back planted firmly towards the woman, and his broad shoulders blocking her view of Aelin, he hoped that she hadn't glimpsed enough in the shadows of the cells to distinguish the damning similarities between himself and his cousin.

He kneeled in front of Aelin, and glanced at the two princesses when they cast him amused looks. He raised an eyebrow at Nehemia, who, surprisingly enough, didn't look particularly angry at the lack of respect, and instead she gave him a small smile, and rose from her crouch, moving to exit the dungeons. Whilst she was on the bottom step, she paused briefly to turn and say sweetly, "General?"

He looked up. She smiled at him.

"I hope to see you at the meeting on Friday," she said carefully, eyes flashing with a hidden message. "I'm sure your input will be greatly valued about that old derelict warehouse in the slums they're planning on renovating." Then she was gone.

Aedion felt the meaning behind her words click, and allowed himself to grin for a moment, before he tucked the knowledge away. He turned back to his cousin, who hadn't bothered to contain her smirk, even if it seemed. . . hollow. Without true depth of emotion.

He made sure to wipe it away though, by the utter gravity of his next few words. "I have a plan to get you out of here."

Aelin sat back, and furrowed her brows, biting her lip slightly. "Let's hear it then," she said. He cast a pointed glance at Kaltain, but she'd fallen asleep in the hay at the back of her cell, and was snoring quietly.

So he began to explain.

Chaol had always hated going on hunts with the Adarlanian nobles. Not only did the horses cause an almighty racket as they charged through the trees, hence scaring away most of the game, but when the hounds ran ahead through the undergrowth, scattering what scarce birds had the idiocy to remain, the lords couldn't hit a thing. They spent too much time gossiping about each other, and eyeing each others' horses, and when the birds flew, they would shoot at them over enthusiastically, with great flailing gestures, and miss by miles.

Usually, Chaol would discreetly kill the odd bird, then pretend that one of them had done it, but today the king had invited Aedion Ashryver to ride with them, and the general kept his horse uncomfortably close to Chaol's, their legs occasionally brushing, and kept up a running commentary about this and that.

"So, I hear that Celaena Sardothien's finally getting shipped to Endovier tomorrow." Aedion commented offhandedly, making Chaol freeze in his place. He cast a terrified glance ahead, where Dorian was riding next to his father, but the captain and the general had fallen behind the rest of the royal party, and there was no one close enough to hear as Aedion - yet again - toed the line between treason and brash, bold words. He jerked his chin at the party ahead. Chaol followed his gaze, unwillingly, to see his father amongst the party, glancing back to give a smug, satisfied smile. "How long did it take them to come to that conclusion?"

"His Majesty's mind was already made up," Chaol said monotonously. "It was just a few other ideas he wanted to consider before he actually had her sent away."

Aedion snorted. "Some would say that uncertainty isn't exactly a desirable trait in a monarch. Makes them look weak." He eyed a sparrow who lingered on the edge of a branch, and shot at it. The tiny corpse thudded to the ground, but Aedion made no move to pick it up.

Chaol responded quietly, "Some people might say it's unwise to talk badly the man who conquered the eastern half of this continent." He eyed Aedion coolly, and to his surprise, the general laughed.

"You're a good sparring partner, captain." He wasn't sure if that was an insult or not. "But I'm curious as to who His Most Esteemed Majesty will choose to accompany the prison wagon on its way there. You can't tell me you're going to let some trembling newbies handle Adarlan's Assassin?"

"Of course not." Where were these questions heading? Ahead, Chaol saw Dorian glance back at them, frowning at how far behind they were. Oh gods. If Dorian came back here, and Aedion managed to antagonise him enough, and Dorian lost control of his magic- "Why?" He asked, keeping his tone level so it didn't reveal any of the coursing fear he felt.

Aedion shrugged, and he was such a massive man that it was like a small mountain rolling under an earthquake. "Is it a crime to want the most notorious criminal in Rifthold to remain behind bars?" He clapped Chaol on the shoulder. "I'm sure you'll ask for my opinion when the time comes for which guards to leave behind to keep an eye on that lady who got locked up for murder - Kaltain Rompier. I always knew she was a sneaky one." The world went quiet for an instant as Aedion leaned in to whisper in his ear, and suddenly there was no warmth, nothing jovial, to his tone. Just icy threats. "By the way, you might want to look into who created such a mess in the queen's favourite rose garden the other day. Random winds blowing out of nowhere to wreck a single lane? Sounds suspicious if you ask me."

With that, Aedion fixed the devil-may-care grin back on his face, clapped Chaol on the shoulder once more, then ridden off.

Chaol's horse stopped walking.

Oh gods oh gods oh gods-

Aedion knew Dorian had magic.

Oh gods.

And Aedion had as good as threatened to spill on the two of them if they didn't do as he asked.

Chaol felt bile rise to his throat, and quickly and quietly emptied his stomach in the nearby bushes. When Dorian, who'd dropped behind to check on him, asked what was up, he simply said he'd eaten too much for breakfast.

"You and the general look extremely similar," Kaltain said slyly from where she was still nestled amongst the hay.

How the woman had known she was awake, Celaena didn't know. But she groaned and openly her eyes to glare at the courtier, and spat, "What of it?"

There was a heavy pause, then Kaltain said, a little wistfully, "You're truly going to try to take down Adarlan? The king? Perrington?"

A shudder racked Celaena's frame. So she hadn't been asleep whilst they'd been deliberating. . .

"Yes."

Kaltain's dark eyes seemed to glow for an instant. "In order for you to get out unnoticed," she began carefully, "You'll need someone to go to Endovier in your place. So that when the overseer doesn't receive a young woman, he doesn't raise the alarm and alert all of Rifthold you've escaped." A brittle laugh. "And if that happens. . . you're Celaena Sardothien. The world will start a manhunt."

Begrudgingly curious, Celaena sat forward. "What of it? What are you getting at?" Then it hit her, and she amended her question to, "What do you want in return?"

Kaltain smiled, and there was no joy in it. "I get to keep the cloak," she bartered. Celaena nodded; it was a small price to pay for freedom. Freedom and. . . revenge. "And I want your solemn oath."

"What would you want me to swear to do?"

The lady's face was suddenly paler, the darkness around her suddenly darker. The picture was an art of light and shadows. Lady of Shadows. It was a fitting name for Kaltain somehow.

Here they were, two sorry souls: the Lady and the Queen of Shadows. The two girls who had been spat on and cast aside by the very court residing above them in the glass castle. The two girls with the wicked, wicked smiles, who gifted death with their sleight of hand.

Holding court in the darkness, and needing no fire to guide them.

Kaltain's voice was full of menace and the promise of pain as she said, "To punish them all."

Celaena felt a smile tug at her lips in response.