Acotar and Tog [Discontinued, Will be deleted]

One of Us

This was it. I dug my hands in my pockets, readying myself for what was coming. I didn’t know if it would take her five minutes or five years, but one way or another I knew Feyre was getting out of this pit alive.

The roar of the crowd was deafening as Feyre took off. It was clear she had no plan as she took whichever turn her feet decided were further away from the Wyrm. If she was lucky enough to guess the right course, another path straight and to the left would bring her into an open space where she might have a moment enough to think.

She was nearly there when she came crashing to a halt and shoved herself into a crevice that only those of us above her could see would never work, it was far too small. Feyre began sensing her bad decision almost immediately. Not like this, not like this… flashed wildly through her mind and she struggled against the mud and stone.

My pulse shot up about a thousand beats per minute as I watched her kick and claw and tear at anything to push her through. She was entirely right. Not like this. Never like this. Not for her, I thought pleadingly.

And then the Wyrm was on her, biting at the crevice and Feyre somehow slipped miraculously through and I released the breath I’d been holding. My confidence went up a notch that I had bet on the right contender in that pit after all.

Now she only needed to figure out the key to this madness. I could see the wheels turning in her head as the crowds diverted their attention to the Wyrm that had veered off in entirely the wrong direction. I would have broken into her mind and given her the answer if I needed to, but again Feyre was a marvel with no real use for me. Her eyes brightened as she realized the obvious truth in front of her as I knew she would: the Wyrm was blind.

And she was standing in the middle of its kitchen.

Her expression shifted to one of shock as she took in the bones and ran for it, trying desperately to scale the muddy walls that betrayed her, sending her back down into the pit after only a few inches of height at each attempt. The fae around her laughed hurling their nasty taunts at her. I marked each and every one of their faces down for safe keeping later.

I took a deep breath, confident. I would not let myself be anything but a stronghold for her even if she didn’t know it. Think, Feyre, think! I mentally pushed at her. Brute strength wasn’t going to win her this war the way it would for a fae and she needed to see it.

Feyre slipped once more from the wall, her gaze landing on the bones as I watched an idea take root in her mind. And then she moved, quick as the wind, shoving the largest bones into the wall to form a ladder she could climb. She took other longer bones and began cleaving them in two over her knees. I could feel her wince as pain dug at her legs with every snap of the bone, but I also could see where her plan was taking her.

And it was brilliant.

Feyre had used her resourcefulness as a hunter, as a human who was used to fighting off predators bigger and mightier in physical size than herself, to set a perfect trap for the Middengard Wyrm. And slowly, all at once, the crowd was beginning to notice. I stole a glance at Amarantha and was delighted to see her face set in a hard line. If I dared to break the surface of her mind, I was certain I would find the first trace of doubt flickering in her thoughts. It made me giddy to see someone get under her skin for once, maybe the first time since Jurian even.

Feyre had almost entirely covered her body in the mud and grime of the Middengard Wyrm‘s home, the final piece of her plan taking shape, as the crowd jeered at her in confusion.

“What’s it doing?” an annoyingly whiny fae with a green face asked and I couldn’t help myself as I replied in a voice smooth as the night sky, “She’s building a trap.”