A/N: So I wrote this the other week when I was super tired and it's really really short and the last one is the only one I'm actually happy with, but hey, I may as well post it. I also have a part for Kellan, but it's not relevant until later, so I'll post it at a later date. :)

~~ The Unbroken One ~~

For a first time in a long time, Caspian felt helpless, unable to stop the poison from spreading throughout his body. He could almost feel it burrowing under his skin and polluting his blood. Poison was a cowardly way to kill, and he would have preferred to be run through with a blade, than to die in such a way. It was dishonourable and slower, leaving one stuck with one's thoughts.

It seemed fate enjoyed messing with him until the end. Like a broken toy it would finally get to toss away. The irony was that he had finally found things worth living for. He finally wanted to live. Only to have it taken away abruptly, the breeze laughing at his misfortune. Maybe that's what fate had been looking for. Waiting for him to find some kind of happiness first. The further the descent, the better.

He'd spent his first day afterwards – and one of his last days – trying to find an antidote. He knew of some Unseelie poisons, and he'd collected the ingredients to make the antidotes, drinking them all, even if he knew they wouldn't help. He'd talked to the medics, and he'd even gone to the Towns to search for it. But it was all futile.

Sometimes,

He wondered why he ever tried so hard.

His luck never changed.

Such was the fate of broken faeries.

~~ The Prideful One ~~

Power and control were even harder to keep than they were to earn, Sol soon learnt.

Faeries grew lax and forgetful, and time after time, it was necessary to get them to listen. It wasn't like the Seelie, where everyone knew their place, and blood always won out.

No, at the Hunt, certain actions were required as well. Fear was what they responded to, it was how to earn their respect. It was necessary to keep them in line, and to keep them from snickering behind your back.

Sol had risked everything to get to a higher place, and he wouldn't throw it away. A position like this was what he deserved, and he clutched it tightly in his grasp, not letting go. He didn't mind getting a little dirty to earn their fear. It didn't matter if he got some dirt under his fingernails in the process.

He would make them listen to him.

~~ The Boy Who Felt More Than He Should ~~

"I won't remember you," Aspen had told someone once, as he'd turned away. "I never remember those who hurt me."

It was true, mostly. The inner part of his mind was a fortress, and he'd built a moat, blocking out repressed memories and thoughts. If he did not ponder them, then they could not touch him. He told himself they couldn't hurt him, if he gave them no power.

But sometimes things seeped through the cracks.

Things distorted his vision, until all he could think about were demons and blindfolds and snickers and blood and splinters. The thoughts were not pretty like he was, and he could almost feel the nails raking down his skin, causing him to shiver involuntarily. It felt like they might actually do some damage.

It was fine, he reminded himself, taking a shaky breath. They couldn't hurt him.

Could they?

But…. But he was fin-

He was always fi-

He wasn't afra-

He tried to push them away.

But the re[ressed memo[ies

Kept; [glitch] push[ing [ERROR!] bac]]