Their Fireheart

Chapter Seven

Aelin

Aedion lay in my wood-paneled guest room, cradled in the silken sheets of the large bed. He'd been unconscious through the night and into the late hours of the morning, likely suffering from bone-deep exhaustion after our escape and his weeks in a cell.

A feeling I knew all too well.

I'd sent Chaol on his way almost immediately after he'd helped me man-handle my cousin into the bed, with a promise to share every detail of my interaction with Dorian at a later time. But I'd at least shared the news that Dorian was still in there - that there was hope for him yet.

Despite our ill-fated reunion, he had still aided in Aedion's escape - I owed him that much, at least.

I'd maintained my bedside vigil the entire time he slept, having settled into a cream armchair I'd pulled beside the bed and watched every rise and fall of my cousin's chest. I was dozing with my head against the wing of the chair when he finally began to stir. I sat up, sweeping the room automatically for any danger - a primal instinct to defend my wounded cousin - before finally looking over to meet turquoise-and-gold eyes as familiar to me as my own.

I fell utterly still as we took each other in, half-terrified of what I'd see in his gaze. I knew Chaol had filled him in on my past in Rifthold, and I'd tried to prepare for any possibility, but still felt myself bracing for rejection - until I saw the tears spilling from his eyes, the pillow becoming damp beneath his head.

Appreciation and pure, familial love crashed over me for the first time in over a decade.

I stretched my arms over my head and said, "I see you still enjoy playing damsel in distress. I'll accept your gratitude for my daring and heroic rescue at any time."

Tears continued leaking down his face as he rasped, "Remind me to never get on your bad side."

Warmth suffused my chest, and I couldn't stop the smile that tugged at my lips for all the world. "Hello, Aedion."

"Aelin," he said hoarsely, closing his eyes in an attempt to halt the sobs that wracked his body. I simply watched him, soaking in his presence. When he mastered himself he said, "Thank you for your spectacular rescue. Let's never do it again."

I could feel my own eyes fill with tears as I snorted at him, "You're exactly how I'd imagined you'd be."

Despite knowing that Chaol had told him where I'd been the past ten years, my time spent as Adarlan's Assassin, a slave in Endovier, King's Champion - I saw no disgust or reprimand in his smile as he said, "You're a little smaller than I thought you'd be, but no one's perfect."

I snorted, thrust back to the playful jibes that had been a hallmark of my childhood. "It's a miracle it took so long for the King to try to kill you."

His eyes - our eyes - sparkled with mirth. "Tell me he's in a rage the likes of which have never been seen before."

"If you listen hard enough, you can still hear him shrieking from the palace."

Aedion laughed, but flinched in pain from the wound in his side. His laugh tapered off as he looked me up and down carefully. He ground his teeth, "I'm going to strangle the captain for letting you rescue me alone."

"And there it is," I sighed. "Not more than a moment of pleasantries before you start with the territorial fae bullshit."

"It was a minute longer than I would have liked," he joked.

"I'm surprised you lasted that long," I retorted dryly.

It was a blessing, I decided, to have this time. To be able to reconnect with my cousin, and a relief that he didn't seem to hold my past against me. To know, even at the most shallow level, the man in front of me, this general - the last shred of blood that I had.