A Court of Fear and Longing

Chapter 13

"What did you just call him?" Aelin heard from behind her. She turned, smirking, to look at the three Illyrians who had caught up with her. Rhys was the one who had spoken. 

"Cousin, of course. Did you miss me dear Beron?" 

The high lord was still at the table, but his eyes gave away the truth. "An honor, princess Aelin, to have you in my home." He said between clenched teeth. 

Aelin clicked her tongue in disapproval. "You've been gone for far too long. It's queen now, thank you very much." 

Beron glared. "Is there a specific reason you have come to my court Queen Aelin?" he managed, emphasizing the title.

Rhys spoke again. "Would you like to tell us exactly how you're cousins, then?"

Aelin took a seat at the mostly empty table, motioning for the others to sit as well. Beron stiffened at the control she had in his court, for even Eris sat immediately. 

"Well, I don't know much from Beron's point of view, but I can give you my side. It all began when I was five..." She said dramatically. She played the flame from a torch nearby, having it sputter and dance to make Beron uncomfortable. "I was a very loud child, much to my parent's humiliation. I once commented about the perfect etiquette of the crown prince of Adarlan himself. Anyways, Beron detested me, but was a distant cousin of mine. Much older than me though. It was one of our holidays, one only Terrasen celebrated. I was being particularly loud, scaring the people of my kingdom half to death by jumping through the flames of the many bonfires. Beron got tired of me, and not being a vrey noble person, cornered be with the intent of scaring me into being the perfect princess. I wasn't having any of it. As you know, I read a lot of books, and was very into one certain book that day. The walking dead." 

The fae in the room stilled completely. They all knew that title (excluding Eris, but he was insignificant. 

"So, I cut myself, and drew the wyrdmarks around him. He ended up here, I guess." 

Beron glared. "It was humiliating," he muttered.  

Aelin ignored him."Cousin here never could handle my superior powers. He himself has little compared to it. But enough about the past. Beron, you'll take me to the place you came through the portal tomorrow." It wasn't a question. 

Aelin rose. "Also, we need your four best rooms. It's probably best if the Illyrians remain for tonight. They'll want to see this." 

......................................

Aelin panted. Despite her constant refusals to eat, it really was catching up on her. She looked almost ghostly white, she knew, but could do nothing about it. 

Her dreams continued every night. All of them were past memories, making her awake disoriented. No amount of healing water-hers or others- could take her pain away. No one could make her eat again. Whatever she did eat would just come back up anyways. 

Still, she managed to keep in her screams as she woke in the unfamiliar room in the Autumn Court. No need to alert anyone else to her problems. She could deal with them herself. 

Her dream tonight was of when she and Rowan had escaped Maeve, when Rowan took the blood oath to his mate, instead, before they knew. Before this. A simpler time. 

Yet, tonight, the memory had taken a different turn. When Maeve had told the candra to whip Rowan, not even the threats of her city going up in flames could stop her. Aelin had to watch, as her mate was whipped, right in front of her. 

All Aelin could do was pull her knees to her chest and wrap her arms around herself, breathing deeply. 

"My name is Celaena Sardothien, and I will not be afraid." She went through her list, all her names. "My name is Elentya and I will not be afraid. My name is Aelin Galathynius, and I will not be afraid. My name is-" her voice broke, "My name is Fireheart, and I will not be afraid..."

...............................

Rowan got another glimpse of her, every night. Sometimes, it was just a memory. Other times, she spoke directly to him. The times that hurt him most, though, wrenched his heart, when he could barely stand to watch her. When she would curl up on her bed, completely silent, and he could just see her lips moving, reciting something to herself. He wanted to comfort her, as he once did, but all he could do was watch her slowly break apart. All he could do was send a message down the bond, so weak, she probably couldn't feel it. 

But Rowan could. It was there. His mate was alive. So, every time he thought of her, to keep himself from raging from hurting people, he sent a message to her, a promise. I will find you, fireheart, wherever you are.