Ashryver eyes

Chapter 3: Aedion

A/N: FINALLY! Here is the long awaited chapter three. Again, I'm sorry for not updating sooner, I've just had a lot on my mind. But here it is. 

Disclaimer: All right's of the characters goes to Sarah. J. Maas. I only owe the plot.

So this chapter is basically just chapter 2, but in Aedion's perspective. I felt like it was important to get his view on things. I will try to update more often and to get on with the actual plot.

And like I've said before, english is not my native language, so if I mess up grammar or spelling, that's why. Feel free to correct me in the comments.

Now, please enjoy!!

Yet another lie told. Yet another time coming here to protect his kingdom. Aedion was not proud of himself for what he had done, who he'd had to become to survive. Even after all these years it felt like a disgrace to her memory to walk these halls, to smile at the court and act like he belonged.

The distant memory of golden hair and turquoise eyes flooded in his mind like it always did when he talked to the King of Adarlan. He forced himself to remember her, remember who he was doing this for, why he did what he did. He had never given up on her, never wanted to believe she was dead, even when they told her. The rebels were gathering and Ren was planning a meeting at this very moment. He wouldn't give up before he had found her. Or the proof of her dead body.

It was almost too much having to bow to this monster before him, even worse having to speak in a respectful manner. Aedion could never really keep the drawl from his voice, but he had proven his worth to the king for years. He didn't have to grovel. Just the ring on his finger proved his loyalty, even if it was fake. The king didn't need to know that.

"Majesty," he said. Today was just a bad day. It had been a long way here and all he wanted to do was get a hot meal and some sleep. He truly hated these meetings. It didn't matter that he carried a sword of his kingdom. Having to pretend to use it against his people made him sick.

"I expected you a month ago." Aedion almost snapped back with an 'and I expected you to be less of a monstrous asshole, yet here we are', but he held his tongue. It was not a good idea to bait the King of Adarlan. That would end with the person swinging from the gallows.

Instead Aedion said, "Apologies, the Staghorns were slammed with a final winter storm. I left when I could." Close enough to the truth not to be suspicious. He had been held back by some rebels, gotten carried away in his planning to find his queen. When he had finally started the journey back, the storm had hit. It had been a long month.

Aedion felt his neck tingle slightly, like someone was staring at him. Not surprising, he was the general of the king's armies, of course people would stare. But this felt different. It felt familiar, yet strange. Like when you smell something from your childhood you hadn't scented in years. But he just shrugged, trying to rid himself of the feeling. It made him skittish.

"I didn't receive word that your legion was here," said the King, picking up his silver goblet of wine. Oh, how Aedion would love to poison the red wine inside. Seeing the king choke as liquid filled his throat and then his lungs. Cutting him bloody and hanging him from the castle wall. Screaming to the world that their king was dead.

He was so up in his fantasy that he almost forgot to reply. So much for satisfaction. "They're not."

The king's reaction was small, but Aedion still enjoyed it. The man's jaw locked, his nostrils flared and he gripped the arms of his chair even tighter. It was such a small change, but Aedion had spent every second of every conversation with the king trying to find his limits, how far he could go to taunt the man without getting executed. And now he had done an excellent job.