The Return. A Throne of Glass Fanfic.

Trapped.

Aedion Ashryver sat alone in the middle of his cell, in darkness. Gods, he smelled. His stomach cramped, he was so hungry. It was dark in his cell, so dark that he could barely see his own hands, though he could see the slightest red glow from the torches down the corridor. Trapped. It was so quiet that he could hear the crunch of rat bones under his feet, feel them digging into his skin through the dirty rags he had been given. This place was disgusting! The smell of unwashed bodies, rotting skin, human and animal excrement clogged his throat. That damned fool had put him in the dirtiest, darkest cell in the entire dungeons! If he ever got out of this alive... Trapped. He couldn't stop thinking about his queen. Whenever he pictured her, she was the same little 8 year old girl, helpless yet fierce. But she wasn't that anymore. She was a grown woman now, he had seen her possessions, they weren't of a child. He grieved over the fact that he would never see her again. It was as if she had died all over again, except this time it was him. He had to do it. He couldn't have let Aelin's lover die. He had done it not only to somehow redeem himself for what he had done to her people, but also because Chaol had , somehow, come to be his friend. He stuck his arms through the bars of his cell, his chains pulling tight. They had chained him, and put him in an impenatrable cell. He couldn't help but take it as a compliment. He had nothing left in him. No energy . No fight. Nothing. He just wanted to sleep. So he sat there leaning his head against the wall, and waited, waited for them to come for him. To take to be hung. To walk him to his death. He prayed that Aelin would prevail. That her kingdom would pevail and prosper. He hoped that he had helped her in some way, he hoped for a quick death. And he swore that if Chaol failed to protect his queen, that he would come back from death and pull Chaol back down with him. Then, the merciful hands of sleep grasped him. Sweet darkness.

Darkness. That is all he saw. Darkness. That is all he knew. Darkness and pain. He couldn't even remember his own name. Who was he? What was he? What was this place? Was it his own personal hell? He kept seeing the same thing. Over and over again. The blood. Her head as it toppled from her shoulders. Her mouth set in a silent scream and her eyes wide and filled with pain untill they were empty. He was empty. A shell of a man. Trapped in his own personal hell. Never to be freed. He wished for death, for the end. For the void to take him. But maybe he already was dead, maybe this was the void. The end. Hell. What had he done to deserve this. He couldn't remember. It must've been terrible. No matter how hard he thought, he couldn't remember a thing. All he knew was that he had known that woman. He knew that those were his hands, his hands that were desperately clawing at her head, trying in vain to put it back on. He knew that the horrible screaming, the desperate, animalistic noise, was his. He knew that it was him begging anyone that bothered to listen to change it. Begging them to wake him up. Begging that this was just a dream. Was it a dream? If not why did he deserve this?
"You failed her." A deep sinister voice said, full of malice, "You stood there and let her die."
"You deserve this." It wispered, sneering, "You deserve to suffer."
Did he? A spike of pain shot through his entire body, lighting him on fire. Burning him from the inside out. Destroying him. Until he was nothing but a pile of ash. An empty shell of a man. There were so many questions. But he didn't have enough energy to think. He was so tired, though he could not sleep. The vision kept playing. He couldn't stop it. He saw but he was blind. He didn't understand how he could see when it was so dark. So cold. So empty. So dark. He existed in the darkness. Trapped.