After Empire of Storms

Chapter 22

The weeks passed quickly, long days of planning encompassing all of the court. Introductions had been sorted out within a week of arrivals, each member of the court of Terrassen joined together at last. 

It was almost peaceful. 

But then Aelin would wake at night, darkness pushing in from all sides. A consuming wave of blackness that no light could ever penetrate. An immortal, unyielding wall.  

The first night was the worst. It was almost as if she had been chained in iron again, unable to access that roaring abyss of flame inside of her. Cold sweat covered every inch of her body, soaking through her silk nightgown. The material clung to her like shackles. The darkness was choking her, it was consuming her--

Her loud pants echoed around the stone of the modest bedroom that Lysandra had occupied before her. Breathing uneven, Aelin groped around the bed, expecting to find unruffled sheets,  the other side of the mattress to be cold--but instead found a warm hand reaching out for her own, ready to protect her to the ends of the world. 

"Fireheart." With one word the darkness vanished, and Aelin's eyes locked with green ones that she had dreamed of for so long. The eyes that did not look anything like her own but were somehow mirrored in every way. 

Somehow Aelin managed to swallow and smile at her mate. "Prince." Those eyes were still hard, scanning the room for threats, even though Aedion demanded he stand watch outside their door. Territorial bastards. 

She placed a hand on his cheek and leaned forward, connecting foreheads. Her eyes did not leave his, and once Rowan had deemed the room safe, he looked into Aelin's eyes. I'm fine, buzzard. 

Rowan's canines gleamed as he bared his teeth in a savage smile. Of course you are. He smirked, the slight movement brushing against Aelin's cheek. You're with me. 

Aelin laughed and pushed him away, already reaching for the pile of clothes Lysandra had left for her. 

That had been weeks ago, and it felt like she hadn't had a moment of rest since. The armies needed organizing, and it was time to finally meet Galan, Ilias, and-- gods, even Ansel came. 

Aelin looked up from the map that laid on the low table in front of her. Hands splayed, she directed the armies south, towards the border with Adarlan. The attacks were sporadic but well organized, and reports of stranger and stranger creatures came back after each battle. 

Along with too few men. 

Darrow and the lords of Terrassen had quickly let her take control on the first day, finally realizing that Erawan and his darkness could only be fought by a queen of light. The approval of the lords was convenient...less internal bloodshed. 

Fenrys approaching the table swiftly ended her thoughts. He was panting lightly, his golden hair coated with a layer of dirt and sweat. 

Aelin looked up and knew that his message was not of the good sort. "They're coming." 

Rowan stepped to her side as Fenrys looked up at the others in the room. Lysandra and Chaol stood over a map of Morath, while Aedion watched their conversation, disregarding Galan at his side. Others scattered throughout the room barely gave heed to the beautiful fae who had strolled in. 

The large room, once used for her Uncle's personal meeting had been converted into her war room. Maps of very sort had taken the places of the tapestries hanging on the walls. The tables had been pushed to the center of the room, allowing a large map or Erilea to be spread across it.

Fenrys pointed out a weak spot on the southwest border.  "Something is coming, running through the mountains, a large group." 

Aelin pointed to Perranth on the map, and Elide, standing just over her shoulder, blanched.