FIRE BREATHING BITCH QUEEN

“   don’t tell me you’re already missing the warm , lavish walls of mistward !   ”      it’s as if solely being back in his presence quells the fury building beneath her skin.      every task , every fight that lay ahead   —   it all dissipates away like dew in the afternoon sun.      a true breath fills her lungs , pure laughter fills the space between.      turning herself to take in the apartment she had done her best to make more than the ramshackle warehouse it was , the smile fades to a small grin.      as if still she can see his ghost standing against the bedroom doorframe.      shaking away the memory , aelin’s feet move amongst the squeaky floorboards to the oversize window that captures the avery that near glows with the flickering of city lights.      “   it’s not all bad.      i mean , apart from being ruled by a valg infested king and flooded with his minions   —   there is still good to this city.   ”

"we aren’t worried about you causing harm to us." amusement laces its way into her voice, the beginning of her laughter is a melody cut short as she contemplates how to explain their measures without giving away too much. "but this land is… special. nowhere else is protected quite like it. the high lord takes that very seriously. especially now."

it’s clear the future queen is going stir crazy. the house of wind is a magical place but she can’t help but feel she’d lose her mind if she were taken prisoner here, no matter how pampered. gwyn raises her palm as if to present it to a higher being – a quiet apology in case it somehow heard her thoughts. but there’s no sign of offence, no crumbling walls or surges of fire, as she turns her attention back to the blonde.

"you fell out of the sky, very little you say can sound crazy to me." her features are bright and open, ready to receive anything the other may offer, but at the mention of the book tugs her lips into a frown. "it sounds like a horror story, but no, it doesn't ring any bells." that’s not to say it doesn’t exist; that she hasn’t passed it every day without ever noticing it.

passed it every day without ever noticing it…

even in the depths of worry and stress , it is gwyn’s remark of her arrival that brings out a small smile to aelin’s otherwise solemn appearance.      there was no putting it lightly   —   she has quite literally fallen out of the sky.      humor is far and few to come by when her world looms on destination , but when found , aelin does not fight the chuckle that escapes.      a welcome reprieve against the bone shattering weight.

when mentions of the walking dead heed no recollection in the priestess , the smile fades ever softly.      as if the final lifeline she had to her own world had been snatched right out of reach.      a long shot was what it was.      whereas the book seemed to have a mind and will of its own , to think it could cross worlds should have been daft enough to shut down the idea before it even escaped her lips. however , it seemed the priestess aelin had grown fond of did not share the same thought.

aelin’s brows rise in confusion and curiosity when a mention of an idea is brought up.      another thrown out rope.      logic keeps her skeptical , but hope causes her hand to reach out once more.      “   winnow ?   ”      perhaps it was the unknown of the word itself that conveyed her inability to do such a thing , whatever it was.      but before she had answer , at the bequest of spare priestess robes , her train of thought halts in place.      only a fleeting second until the pieces began to fit together behind turquoise and gold eyes.

“   you know , i have been a lot of things ,   ”      so much so even she herself could not recount each role she had played.      “   but never a priestess.   ” aelin grasps hold of the cloak , that saccharine smile taking hold of her features.      “   but if it gets me out of this room for at least an hour , count me in.   ”

𝑺𝑨𝑳𝑻 𝑨𝑰𝑹 ◞ 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑹𝑼𝑺𝑻 𝑶𝑵 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑫𝑶𝑶𝑹 ... 𝑰 𝑵𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑹 𝑵𝑬𝑬𝑫𝑬𝑫 𝑨𝑵𝒀𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑬.

independent and mutuals only multimuse blog, 𝒔𝒆𝒂𝒉𝒂𝒛𝒆𝒅; previously 𝒇𝒆𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒅. heavily headcanon and plot driven, with a high love for crossovers and original characters, with canon characters often removed from canon and rewritten as my own. 𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒚. 30𝒔. 𝒎𝒆𝒙𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒂. 𝒑𝒔𝒕.

@f1ameheir : “  have  i  ever  told  you  that  you're  difficult  to  read  ?  ”  

❛     i  would  hope  so.       an  easy  to  read  opponent  is  a  dead  one.     ❜       an  arms  length  away  –  chaol  must  view  her  as  a  potential  threat.        one  wrong  move  &*  he  has  to  be  prepared  to  end  celaena's  life.        any  danger  posed  to  the  royal  family  would  sign  her  death  warrant  –  the  less  attachment  he  has  to  her  ,  the  better.       &*  yet  –  here  she  is  in  his  private  quarters  ,  like  a  friend.     he  glances  up  from  his  notebook  ,  a  brow  arching  as  he  regards  her  there  ,  sprawled  on  the  sofa  across  from  his  desk.       ❛    i  don't  think  you've  ever  admitted  being  bad  at  anything.       i'm  more  than  happy  to  be  your  weakness.   ❜

“   i never admitted to being bad at anything   . . .   ”      as if personally attacked by his claim , celaena’s hand rises to her chest to cover the false wound as she lay sprawled on his couch.      a stark contrast to where she lay naught but a month prior.      from the soot coated floors of the salt mines , the body heat of many overpowering even the bite of the northern wind as she lay wondering which day would be her last   —   whether by freedom or death   —   to now.      chatting with ease with the captain of the royal guard within the infamous glass castle set in the midst of the very city that had betrayed her   . . .   the irony was not lost on the assassin.      but the daunting reminder that one false move would send her right back to the dark depths of the mines that keep her in line , even if not all agreed on where she had drawn it.      “   all i was saying was that i keep wondering how someone like dorian would end up with a best friend that houses a permanent stick up his ass twenty - four seven.   ”

nesta doesn’t think to conceal the confusion that creeps its way onto her features. upheaval has been the one permanent fixture in her life, yet the outcome has always left her feeling stuck. as seemingly charmed as her childhood was, she’d been trapped by expectations of perfection; of securing a favourable future. when they lost their fortune, a future with even an ounce of comfort became impossible to fathom. just as she’d finally been on the cusp of contentment a neverending future, filled with battle and blood, had seized her.

the made fae never would have traveled through space and time if not for what… a turn of fate? a gift from the cauldron in the form of a young queen? if she hadn’t already been forced to believe in a greater power, aelin would certainly have made her a believer. it’s something she’s seen in others too since her arrival here; a blind sort of faith and wonder, but not a foolish one. she’s quiet as she mulls it all over – surprisingly calm about the others hand on hers, perhaps because she is so consumed by her thoughts.

this isn’t a one way ticket, yet she can’t help but worry that a ‘goodbye’ will be final.

" i’ve never had much choice before. " a quiet confession, despite the fact that they’re utterly and blissfully alone. the court is bustling, but she doesn’t feel as though eyes are trained on her; has no sense that her words will be repeated to somebody who she can never truly trust. but she trusts aelin. believes every last word to fall from her lips. and a home? it’s all she’s ever wanted. erilea would be the perfect one – it already is to so many.

" i would like nothing more. " another confession, but this one is more certain, feels far less pathetic. it parts her lips with a smile. " perhaps if my plan goes awry, the next time i return will be for good. " humour, wry as it is, laces its way into her voice. in truth she has two options: make her plan work, survive. or fail, and likely fight to the death. " it may be wise to make some room in your court for a few valkyries. perhaps a seer and a shadowsinger. "

playfulness remains in her tone, but full lips press into a flat line the moment she forbids herself to explore that thought any further. she has died and been reborn. she has killed and killed and killed. but this is territory too morbid even for a being with a talent for anticipating the worst. a voice in the back of her mind tells her to cross that bridge when she comes to it, and just like that the thought is released to return another time.

there lies a story buried deep behind those gray eyes.      truths ran from for so long perhaps even the author does not know how to reveal.      how badly aelin wished to know all of nesta’s story , why she remained so guarded , so distressed in returning to her home realm.      but was it not a mirror she peered into at the same time ?      the girl who wore the facade of assassin to hide behind for a decade , running from the truth until no longer she could ?      until she found someone who saw all she was , the good and bad , and still showed her she was worthy of being loved.      no , not just someone , but many.      those who had become family more than friends.      perhaps it was not deep love like that she shared with rowan that aelin could provide nesta whilst in terrasen , but there was no doubt it was the latter the other would undoubtedly discover should she return.      or remain longer.

for aelin herself bore witness to how the silver in the brunette's eyes glimmered as others , even common folk of the city , welcomed her without restraint.      did not gawk nor sneer.      had she had the same feeling back home ?      there was doubt in aelin’s mind that told her the answer , only further proved by nesta’s response   —   i’ve never had a choice.      to what extent she wondered to herself.      but until nesta herself was ready to share her story , aelin would not waver in her alliance.      regardless of her past , it was the person before her the queen saw.      saw and would not turn away from.

“   a seer , shadow singer , and valkries huh ?   ”      brows raise in curiosity and wit as she once more lets the moment fall back into that of ease over weight.      “   well then , i think your shadow singer would find someone here that he would get along with quite well to be honest.   ”      shame that dorian’s duty’s kept him from also welcoming the guest , but have there be a day the shadow singer walks alongside nesta to erilea , it was the first person she would suggest he meet.      “   as well as your valkyries and seer of course !   ”

chuckling at the complement , a blush rises to the young queens cheeks.      the entwining of fingers softening her smile just a fraction.      “   honestly , you’d be surprised how little i heard it up until a year ago.   ”      not that aelin could blame them , her more recent past certainly didn’t set her up to wear a crown.      “   are their many in prythian ?      queen’s that is.   ”