Throne of Glass/ACoTaR FanFiction

Part One:

Celaena wasn't sure what she was still doing in this gods-damned castle, not when it had been weeks, months even, since she had shattered the towers and had restored magic to the realm. It had been a busy few months since then, but she had remained here to the behest of Dorian, still recovering from the horrible torture his now-dead father had put him through. She had stayed to make sure he was all right, made sure that no one would undermine his new role as King of Adarlan. Still, despite all of that, she felt the urge to leave, to go home again.

She had not been back to Terrasen for nearly twelve years now. It felt odd calling it her home, where she would inevitably rule as Queen one day. It felt odd even thinking about returning and resurrecting her court, the court that Aedion was in charge of gathering in her stead, while she settled matters here. When she thought about her cousin, she stiffened. They had so little time together before he offered to start searching for the remainder of her uncle's court, whatever still remained of it. Celaena - no, she was Aelin now - had wanted to keep him here in Adarlan with her while she sorted things out, but he had insisted, saying that he wanted to do this for her so that she could get back on her throne. She had let him go after several fights between the two of them.

As she walked the halls with Fleetfoot by her side, she could feel eyes peering at her from around corners, servants gawking at her whenever she passed by. Of course, she was not the only one they were frightened, yet also intrigued with. Rowan, on her other side, looked menacing as he stalked the hallways of the glass castle. She could have smiled if she did know that he would scold her for it. Not that he would exactly scold her, but more like he would find a reason to wallop her later. They were still training at dawn, even though she was sure she had had enough training to last her a lifetime.

Rowan's excuse for the constant training was because she had wasted perfect time when they had been apart, had gotten lazy. Of course, she always caught his slight smirk when he said that. Even though he did not say it directly, he had missed her just as much as she had missed him when she had been in Adarlan, and he in Wendlyn. She did not think he would ever say it, even if they were carranam and had been growing steadily closer, even closer than they had been in those last few weeks in Mistward. Aelin gave a sigh, which Rowan caught, but said nothing about. They continued to walk in silence through the glass castle, making their way to Dorian's private chambers, where he had summoned them to talk about something. When they had received word about his summoning, both of them had cocked an eyebrow at the messenger. Neither of them knew what was going on.

When Aelin and Rowan reached Dorian's private quarters, the guards nodded and let them through. Aelin recognized Ress, one of the guards that had been in charge of keeping her guarded while she had been undergoing her trials to be King's Champion. Now that time was over, and she was glad to see that Ress had survived the last year, especially with the slaughter she had issued in this very castle, stalking her prey because the King had decided to hide like the coward he was. She had enjoyed killing him.

She nodded at Ress before stepping through the door, into Dorian's private chambers, Fleetfoot and Rowan following close behind her.

She was not surprised when she saw Chaol, still bruised and broken from the fight that had occurred months ago. He was not like Aelin or Rowan, who could both heal quicker than any normal human could. He had dislocated his right shoulder and had shattered most of the bones in his left arm. She was surprised to see that even as he moved toward them in greeting, he barely walked with a limp anymore. She had nearly forgotten his sliced tendon - which had been slightly her fault. She had told him specifically that he would just be a hindrance when she was fighting, but he had insisted and had gotten himself cut and beaten. Not beyond repair, but his injuries were evidence that she had been right.