#orynth

With the first CCWEEK officially coming to a close, we here at Illyrianet would like to extend our thanks in participating and sharing all the lovely content. Seeing how many of you enjoyed last week, do a keep a look out for future weeks revolving around characters and ships.

Until then, we have another exciting announcement to share with you all. Starting April 12th we will be hosting a Throne Of Glass read for our discord. If you haven't read the series yet or want to do a reread come join us!

Below are the tentative start dates for each book. A reading outline will be posted prior to the start of each book. You do not have to be a member of the server to read along. However, to take part in our daily discussions we recommend that you do.

Join Illyrianet here

If you have any questions please contact any member of the cadre.

So when he's "looking" for Lorcan, I'm pretty sure we all agree that he was doing anything but that. I've decided that he, under the pretence of camouflage, decided to grow a forest. And the whole time he's just sitting with biscuits and tea, staring at his forest, which for ages is just some tiny saplings.

When Fenrys finally finds him, the trees are a bit taller. Fenrys wants him to come to Orynth, but Vaughan's all "nooooo i can't leave my babies! They don't have enough flowers!"

Hello lovely people! This is a short, fluffy one shot based off of a head cannon I saw on Tumblr here, containing one very bored fire-breathing-bitch-queen and a very disgruntled Wolf of the North. Note: I wrote this when I was very tired, so it’s lazy and unedited. My master list is here.

TW: N/A

It was a warm summer’s day in Orynth, and Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius, Faerie Queen of the West, was bored. Very bored. So bored, in fact, that she had resorted to throwing knives into a tree about five metres away. 

Her husband, Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius, had, as usual, decided to be an overbearing Fae bastard, and decided she was to take the day off. She didn’t mind, of course, as Aelin was exhausted from rebuilding Terrasen from the ground up. It had been two years since the war, and only now were things finally starting to settle down. 

Now, usually Aelin would have loved the day off, but nobody was here to relax with her. And if there was one thing Aelin hated the most, it was no attention. 

When her overprotective husband gave her the day off, he failed to mention that in doing so, he was to take all of her meetings instead. So, no Rowan. Lysandra was visiting Darrow with Evangeline in Arran, Fenrys was in the witch kingdom, sorting out some trade business, Lorcan and Elide were in Perranth, Dorian, Chaol, Yrene, Nesryn, Ansel were all in their respective kingdoms. It was too hot to concentrate on a book, the training rooms were overflowing with the guards, she’d run out of chocolate, and nobody was around. It was depressing.

Just as she’d thought she’d go to her meetings after all, none other than Aedion Ashryver came around the corner. His long hair was up in a bun, and he was wearing casual clothes, meaning he wasn’t on his way to a meeting with the Bane.

Aelin launched herself off of the ground where she sat and landed on his back, legs wrapped around his waist. 

-x-

Aedion Ashryver was on a quiet walk around the palace gardens when something small and heavy landed on his back, smelling distinctly of jasmine, lemon verbena, and oh so much gods-damned fire.

“Aelin? What are-” Aedion started, bewildered

“You have to come with me.”

“What? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” His Fae instincts were instantly on edge.

“No. I’m not fine. I’m bored. And you,” she leaped off his back, grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the palace gates, “are coming with me.”

Aedion just rolled his eyes and followed her out of the palace gates, nodding hello and goodbye to the guards stationed there. 

Aelin pulled him into the bustling city of Orynth, weaving through the crowd with expert ease, nodding hello to those who recognized her. Fifteen minutes later, Aelin stood outside of a small, blue, decorated shop, whose sign read ‘Orynth Nail Salon’, and looked up at her cousin with a shit-eating grin on her face.

Aedion groaned and looked down at the young Queen of Terrasen, an adamant look on his face.

“No.”

“Please, Aedion,” she drew out the last syllable in his name, “I don't want to go in alone and you are the only one here.”

“Aelin, I am Aedion Ashryver, Wolf of the North, General of the Bane, a Prince of Wendlyn, soon-to-be wed to the Lady of Caraverre, I,” he stated firmly, “am not getting a pedicure with you.”

Ten minutes later, his feet were soaking in a bowl of liquid, reclining on a cushioned chair whilst his ever infuriating cousin chatted with the store’s owner. 

Five minutes after that, he was being asked if he had colour preferences.

Twenty minutes more, and his nails were shaped, shined and coloured to perfection, and Aelin was squealing with delight at her new gold and black nails.

-x-

“Admit it, you enjoyed yourself.” Aelin was pestering him as he led the way back through the markets, his 6 3 frame needed more space than most.

“I most certainly did not.”

“You did.”

“Didn’t.”

“We are so doing this again.”

“NO we are not, Aelin,” Aedion demanded.

“And what if I order you too? You were the one who took the blood oath to me, not the other way around.”

His growl chased her all the way back to the palace walls.

-x-

Later, when he was safely walking the palace’s halls, Aedion looked down at his feet, his newly painted toes hidden in his military-style boots, he allowed himself a grin.