DISCONTINUED A Court of Blood and Night Rewritten

13

Rowan did his best to ignore the sudden temperature change around him, and tried even harder to keep his eyes off of Dorian as he led the group through twisting halls and down staircases to the dining room, his allies flanking the High Lords and their people. They looped around hallways a dozen times and climbed up and down stairs, too. It was an attempt to throw them off-balance, to confuse them so they wouldn't know how to get out. They may have been treated better than most prisoners, but they were still prisoners. He wasn't sure he'd succeeded.

He'd realized somewhere in their latest exchange that the captured Fae had been tied up for days with limited-- if any-- food and water. They were probably starving, but were so stressed that they didn't realize it. Either that, or they knew they were hungry and had ignored it.

Even if they were prisoners until further notice, Rowan wasn't going to deny them sustenance.

The dining hall was large enough to feed possibly fifty people-- probably even more if they all tried hard enough. It was strangely empty, but Aedion quickly explained, "Eating goes in shifts-- otherwise we'd never get everyone fed." Everyone being the armies Aelin had brought when she called on the debts of all those people.

It made sense.

"I suppose that we're between shifts right now, then?" Rowan guessed, and Aedion nodded.

"Next shift is in ten minutes, so make it quick," he warned. He'd been assigned, alongside a few other warriors, to give the soldiers a hard time. If they could beat him, Ilias, Galan, and Ansel, Rowan gleaned, they might just have a chance at fighting in this war and winning. Of course, now that Manon, her Thirteen, Gavriel, and Lorcan were back, perhaps they could help Aedion out with training. Though, from what he'd heard, pummeling might be a better word for what Ansel, Galan, and the others did to those soldiers. They were good, but they weren't good enough as to beat Far warriors yet. He could only hope that they learned quickly.

Rowan was still cold, and bumps raised on his skin. The others seemed to feel the chill as well-- all except Dorian, who was looking a bit broody. The female by Tamlin's side-- Feyre-- kept glancing at him at the corner of her eye. Somehow, she'd connected it to him without even knowing their powers. Simply observant, or was it something more? Could her powers sense the powers of others? In all his years, Rowan hadn't met anyone like that-- but he knew it was certainly possible.

Everyone took a seat at the table. It was already stocked with food in anticipation of the incoming soldiers, and Rowan decided they'd just have to share some of it. He noticed that Tamlin, Feyre, and Lucien sat pretty far away from the others, and realized he was going to have a hard time getting them to work together. If he suceeded at all, it'd likely be a cause for celebration.

"You can eat," Rowan invited quietly. "I won't deny you food or water." However, he did deny them utensils, and they were wise to not protest. Rhysand's Court quickly began helping themselves and each other to whatever they fancied, and Rowan was a little surprised that they were so close-knit. It reminded him of a family.

Meanwhile, Tamlin and Lucien stiffly grabbed a few things before drawing away from the others like they were ill with some plague. Feyre quickly did the same, but Rowan noticed her eyes linger on the hands of the blonde female across from her. Mor had reached forward to grab a roll-- and had been close enough to touch. Were they friends? But then Feyre sneered at her and dropped her gaze to the plate in front of her. Mor's face was cold as she grabbed the roll and began tearing it apart with nimble fingers. Gods, this rift between the two Courts would be the death of them all.

Rowan noted that they all checked their food and water for anything incriminating, and upon finding nothing, finally took to eating. Elain and Nesta had just watched the others silently, not seeming to know how to check for poison. Did they not know what it smelled like? He stored the odd observation aside for later.