#meekers

-Their first child would always be Evangeline. Always.

-That did not mean Lys was done with children yet.

-Multiple attempts at pregnancy, though passionate and satisfying, failed to put her with child. Eventually, a healer was consulted.

-Lysandra was infertile. The healer had no explaination for how or when or why, only that some women were and some weren’t and she was just not a part of the group of them she had wanted to be.

-Eventually, Lys made peace with the news, but not after much comfort from her friends and family. 

-They think all is back to normal until Lys spots a beggar boy in the streets and makes a mad dash at him.

-The boy is not just a boy, though. Lys knows this. They are a shape-shifter, like herself. She asks for their true form, if they remember. They shift into a the figure of an even younger looking boy, no older than four. She knew, of course, when she first spotted him what he was. Could smell him. “Come home with me,” she said. And that was that.

-Nika adjusted to life off the streets quite terribly, at first. Evageline was ecstatic about having a sibling. Aedion needed convincing that Lys wasn’t just plucking orphans off the streets. Lys was confident she made the right choice from the start, but was reassured when she caught Nika curled up in Eva’s lap, both sound asleep.

-Nika is not a full shifter and only changes into other human forms. When they turned nine, they explained to their new family that slipping from one skin to the next was as seamless and natural as slipping into a different coat every time. And thus, they felt as though they were neither boy nor girl, but both and neither at the same time. And though the family still refers to Nika as their son and brother, the male and gender neutral pronouns have been mixed together in equal frequency ever since.

-Clever as a fox and practically fearless, Nika is nothing like his elder sister, diving head first into whatever adventure is around the next corner with no concern for consequences or personal safety. 

-To those who don’t know Nika well, they can seem almost emotionless, even perhaps cruel. Nika’s face is always a “ten-layer mask,” Eva says. But there are just enough cracks for his family to see what’s truly on his mind. Lys can even take one look at them and know just how much trouble their into now.

-Although they love learning about shifting from their mother, Nika mostly wants to be a strong warrior and protector like their father. To be a soldier or a spy for their father is Nika’s dream.

-Nika also likes trailing Eva around and “protecting” her, too. Though, with how much trouble he gets into, the roles are often times reversed.

-The eldest of three. Aster Havilliard-Blackbeak

-The soft pale skins of his parents, his mother’s piercing golden gaze, and his father’s midnight black hair

-Tall and slender, and more a fan of books than sword fighting

-There were complications with his birth, leaving him with fragile health his first five years of life. He’s gotten stronger since, but has lingering weakness in his lungs and therefore, his parents worry about him over-exerting himself.

-The crown prince is quite and reserved, and sometimes unnervingly still. Some liken him to a ghost or a corpse, never letting on that he’s alive until he deems you worthy of interaction.

-Aster is incredibly smart, but not naturally so. He studies harder than anyone else. 

-He is also decidedly not a people person. Most of the company he finds himself in he deems too idiotic to waste much time or effort on.

-He is a hands-off older brother to the twins, but still would kill for them. Not die. Kill.

-Aster is heir to the Ardalan throne. Not the Wastes. Suits him fine.

-His mother still wanted him to have a wyvern. He rides a calm mare, small and fast and completely unremarkable looking save for the glint in her eye that says there’s more going on beneath her surface than you may know. Her name is 

-The most celebrated baby ever, or so she is told since she had no memory of it. Eliana Galythianius-Whitethorn.

-Only the people she doesn't like have to call her Eliana. Everyone else just calls her Elle or Elli, depending.

-She is the sun in the sky. The warm on your face. The light at the end of every tunnel. Her smiles are generous yet coveted all the same. She can make you feel like the center of the universe. Like you are truly worthy. Like you are loved. The fates bend to her will, some say, as long as she asks nicely and gives them a wink. Her ability to charm even the harshest of critics is stunning. And so is she.

-Elle can giveth, but she taketh away just as fast. She had a bad habit of being fickle and petty and stubborn (gee wonder where she got that from). But she has a good heart all the same.

-Like her mother before her, she likes the finer things in life and has already had to expand her enormous closet. Her father tries to rein in her shopping habits, but her mother is too much of an enabler for it to do much good.

-She’s bi.

-Being heir isn’t something that’s super exciting for her. She’d rather ride the winds with Aster on his wyvern. Better yet, she’d rather her close personal friend Manon Blackbeak, Queen of the Witch Kingdom, would give her her own wyvern to ride.

-Elle longs for adventures like her mother and father had, though sans all the war and death and sacrifice stuff. The world is vast and she’s seen so little.

-Though popular and well loved by most, Elle doesn’t have many close friends, at least not within the castle, or even capitol. She’s closest with Aster and the youngest Westfall, though she considers all of what her mother has deemed the “Next Generation” to be her trusted friends. 

-For Elle, her mother is good for a fun time, sure laughs, and honest, reliable advice. Her father is best used for venting frustration and endless comforting hugs, accompianed by several death threats towards whatever has caused her distress.

This will be the official start of my Throne of Glass fanfiction, taking place some 20-odd years after the end of the series.

Synopsis: Erilea is at peace, and the kingdoms are recovering. But that doesn’t mean that the future generations are just riding their parents’ coattails into the bright future ahead of them. From their personal lives to the manipulative game of politics, each kingdom still has plenty of drama to sort through. Wounds from the past have not quite healed, new players have entered the game, and no road is without its bumps. The future of Erilea will lie with the next generation of rulers and their people. This is their story.

Prologue

To be selected as a guard in the castle of Orynth was the greatest honor a solider of Terrasen could receive. To have made into the Queen’s Guard, the elite group dedicated to protecting Queen Aelin, an even bigger honor than that. Although peace has reigned in Terrasen for the last 24 years, a guard’s duty was to always be vigilant. To always be looking and listening for the signs of a threat.

It was truly an honor to have such a position. 

CRASH! BANG!

-The first vow Chaol made as Lord Westfall was to Yrene, as her husband, to love her eternally and honor her in every way, forever. The second was to his son, that he would love him unconditionally and do right by him, as his father had failed to do for him.

-Dammit if Damian didn’t make it so fucking hard to keep that vow.

-From a young age he was a trouble makers and flirt. In that order.

-Yrene was not deceived, however, and could see through her son’s charming deceptions from the start. That did stop her from spoiling him, though. 

-Damien Westfall was the spitting image of his father, with his mother’s tan skin. A dashing smile and a mischievous glint in his eyes have made him the envy of men everywhere. 

-Chaol tried training him in the way of the sword as a way to focus his attention and keep him out of trouble. It didn’t work. Damian was an excellent student and took quickly to the lessons, but his trouble-making ways hardly lessened.

-Being a warrior only made him more popular and Damian ate it up.

-Despite his enormous ego, Damian is actually a pretty chill guy. His parents might seem tense and stressed more often than not, but it’s thanks to that example that Damian is much more “go with the flow.” His optimism and endless positive attitude are infectious, and even the darkest of clouds can’t help but give way to his sunshine.

-He has a weakness for sweets and women who refuse to give into his charms. His current infatuation is with Tessian Blackbeak-Havilliard. She’s every bit as charming as he and seems immune to his best flirtation.

-Sometimes, Damian’s flippishness gets the better of him and he has a hard time taking situations as seriously as he should.

-Damian is a ride or die bitch. If his friends got beef, he got beef. No ifs, ands, or buts. He has their backs and will never turn traitor to their causes.

-In any other scenario, however, Damian can be flippant and easily persuaded to give up. If his father hadn’t been such a good instructor, and Damian a natural talent, he would’ve given up sword fighting long ago, much like he did with archery and knife-throwing.

A Collection of Correspondences 

Elle, age 9; Aster, age 12

“To his Royal Highness,

I hope this letter find you well, Aster. Attached is a short note from Eliana. It is the first she has ever written, and when asked to whom she wished to write, you were her first pick. Respond promptly. Or else.

Much love and warm regards,

Aelin Ashryver-Galaythinias Whitethorn, Queen of Terrasen

---

Dear Aster,

Hello. This is Eliana. Mommy has asked me to practice my writing, so I am writing you. How are you? Will you and your mother visit again soon? I do miss her and Abroxis very very much.

Warm regards,

Eliana

P.S. Mommy said I did not have to use my full title. So I did not. You know who I am, right?”

“To Princess Eliana of Terrasen,

Princess, I was very happy to receive your letter. Things are well in Rifthold. Tess, Soren, and I keep busy every day. I imagine life must be similar in Terrasen. As for my next visit, there is much to do here in Riftohold, but I’m sure it won’t be long. My mother, on the other hand, keeps her own schedule. I am afraid I do not know when she and Abraxos will next be in Terrasen. But I will pass along your well wishes to her.

Best regards,

Aster

P.S. I never much liked using my full title, either. Thank the gods we are in agreement there.”

-------

Elle, age 13; Aster, age 16

“Dearest Aster,

You shall never believe my day. It was riveting from start to finish, but I shall try to only convey the important things.

Firstly, Nika and I snuck out through the servants’ entrance and caught Evageline in the stables with a boy! Oh, she would’ve had our heads if she caught us! Auntie Lys’s temper is surely rubbing off on her. Then, at dinner, Uncle Aedion, Lord Westfall, and your father got so caught up in old war stories that they drank themselves stupid and mother had to chase them out of the dining hall and back to their chambers. I could hear Auntie Lys and Lady Westfall berating their husbands all the way down the corridor! It was truly amusing. 

I wish you could’ve been here, but more than that I wish for your strength and health to return soon. These adventures are so much more fun with you around.

Until next time,

Elle”

“Elle,

You all seem to get into the most interesting adventures while I’m not around. Hardly fair of you.

I feel much better after your letter. I am lucky to have a friend to consider themselves over me, but truly, father exaggerates. My bed rest was merely a precaution. 

I look forward to seeing you all again soon.

-Aster

P.S. Mara and I only need a bit more training before Mother will give us permission to take passengers. Get ready, princess. You’re first on my list to take on a nose dive.”

-------

Elle, age 16; Aster, age 19

“Dearest Aster,

My heart is broken. I am inconsolable. To think the fates so cruel as to keep me from you like this. It is truly a tragic turn of events. But, alas, this is the hand fortune has dealt us. 

I must once again apologize for the carelessness of my scheduling. When Mother told me this trip would last most of the moon cycle, I didn’t think she meant nearly all of it. A miscommunication in semantics. One I shall rectify immediately, of course. However, no matter how I try, it would be impossible to make it back for your birthday celebration. Enclosed with this letter is your gift from me. I do hope you like it. The earrings match the sets the rest of us have. May they bring you thoughts of me, and how much more fun the festivities would be with my presence. 

But, in all seriousness, I hope you truly enjoy the day. Get out! Talk to a girl! Or a guy! Whatever! Just make a move, dammit! Do not retreat to your room early, you gremlin. Have some fun and enjoy yourself for once.

I love you dearly, and cannot wait to hear all about it when I return.

Your dearest, most precious friend,

Elle”

“Elle,

The earrings are amazing. A perfect fit. I have worn them ever since I received them. Thank you.

As for the party, well- I shall tell you more when I see you next. But Tess will attest that I did not retreat to my rooms early, at least. Whatever other rumors you hear, take them with a grain of salt. Especially the one about the about the orchestra pit and Lady Dubinal’s gown. I won’t say much more hear- some stories are best left unrecorded.

Safe travels, princess.

-Aster”

--------

Elle, age 17; Aster, age 20

“Aster,

Men are pigs. All of them. I am renouncing the entire gender. 

Simon is a beast. I caught him with Brinda Dubinal in the gardens yesterday. Her family was visiting to talk about trade with council. I have never been so embarrassed and humiliated in my life than I was when I confronted them. Simon claimed we were never exclusive, and that he had done no wrong. Brinda had the decency to act clueless, at least, though I’m not convinved she really did know what was going on.

Oh, Aster. My heart feels crushed. I cannot stop crying. And all over some stupid boy. I stand firm in my earlier assessment of their piggishness. But perhaps I am simply a fool.

Sometimes, I feel as though you are the only friend I can trust.

-Elle”

“My dearest Elle,

Better you to have found him than I. There is no small chance even now that I will be able to stay my hand the next time I lay eyes on the swine. Would it be much of a loss if I were to slay him? We may find out yet.

Elle, no one has ever needed to tell you this before, but I feel it bears repeating; you are smart, beautiful, and the truest friend I have ever known. Any man who cannot see that and appreciate it is a fool unworthy of the air he breaths. Always know that my heart, at least, will always been yours.... in friendship. I am always your friend. And you are mine my friend.

Your truest friend,

Part One: The Invitation

The thing about being a prince is that everyone always seems to know where you are.

It is probably the most inconvenient part of Aster’s life, being watched and monitored like child pretending at almost-adulthood. And though his skills at sneaking about had, of course, grown exponentially through the years, it seemed as if for every step he took forward his personal guard took two.

Blythe was waiting for him around the corner. If he hadn’t come to expect this of her, he might’ve been spooked. Her deep brown skin and pitch black hair blended into the shadows of the castle hall beautifully. But the shine of her armor and the glint of her sword hilt had given her away to Aster in a heartbeat. As did her ancestral family crest, carved into the hairpiece she used to keep her braided hair tied up tight in a knot about her head. It was the only bit of Ellywe she insisted on carrying with her every day. Aster’s own crest- the royal crest- shone proudly from her breastplate. After the war, King Dorian had refashioned the Havilliard crest, from a wyvern poised to strike in battle to one in flight, carrying Damaris, the family sword, in one clawed foot, and a scarred shield in the other. “So the rest of the world knows that while we are willing to fight, and have in the past,” his father once explained, “we are always willing to defend those in need. We have a debt to pay to this continent, and it is up to us to see it paid in full.”

That was when Aster knew his father was a good king. It was also when Aster decided that he would be a great one.

“Your highness,” Blythe said, bowing at the waist, “how fortunate that I have caught you.”

Aster rolled his eyes and kept walking, Blythe falling seamlessly into step behind him. “My dearest Blythe, you have been on my tail since I left the library.” Indeed, the idea that Blythe of all people had simply “caught up to him,” as if she hadn’t been in his shadow the entire duration of his foray into this wing of the castle, was laughable. “What am I late for now?”

A twinkle in the guard’s eyes was the only hint of amusement on her stony visage. “A letter, Your Highness.” Pulling the scroll from her pocket, she handed it to Aster. The seal had not been broken yet, meaning it was a personal missive. And the seal...

“When did this arrive?” He questioned, breaking into the scroll immediately.

Blythe let a sly smirk through at that. “Not two hours ago. If you’d been in your room, as you were supposed to be...” She let the sentence trail off, raising a surprisingly delicate eyebrow instead to make her point. Aster sighed but said nothing in return. He quickened his pace, letting muscle memory take over as he raced for rooms.

The note was sealed shut with the royal crest of Terrason’s ruling family. And since he was quite confident the Queen would not be the one sending him letters, the likeliest choice would be-

“You got one, too?” 

Aster started, just pivoting his steps in time to avoid mowing down his younger sister. Tess stood directly in his path, a confident hand on her hip as she held a very similar looking bit of parchment in the other. Behind her, Soren stood, as well, his scroll wrapped up neatly once more and held lazily at his side. Aster’s jaw twitched in annoyance before he could school his face. Tess caught it and chuckled. “Aw, big brother. I’m sorry you aren’t special. But the invite was for all of us and it wouldn’t be Elle if she didn’t hand write all the invites herself.” She paused. “Well, at least, the important ones.”

“Invites?” Aster asked, curious. He hasn’t gotten that far yet. Typical Eliana, droning on for half a page about her latest goings-on before getting tot he damned point. He skimmed down to the bottom- but not before vowing to go back and read over every word carefully once he was back in the safety of his room. There, in elegant script, it read;

With this, I am hereby officially inviting you to my Not Actually an Engagement Ball. If you cannot be there, do let me know, as I will have to call the whole thing off because I refuse to suffer through it without your company. I fear it will be the only thing to keep me sane. Write me back as soon as you get this, and I look forward to seeing you soon!

Your dearest, most irreplaceable friend, Elle

Aster couldn’t breath for a moment. “An... An engagement ball?”

“Actually, I think it specifically stated that it was Not Actually an Engagement Ball.” Soren noted softly