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2025-02-09
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2025-02-09
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8/?
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A world not your own

Summary:

If it was just a beast, then there was no reason to hesitate. But if it wasn't... if it was fae...
The bowstring cut into my fingers. The arrowhead glinted, poised to end whatever quiet understanding passed between us.
But I couldn't.
Slowly, I exhaled. My grip loosened. The bowstring slackened. The arrow dipped.
The wolf's ears flicked. For a long moment, neither of us moved. Then, as if deciding that I was no threat, it turned. Its massive paws crunched in the snow, effortless and silent, and it strode away into the trees, disappearing between the dark trunks.

 

Aelin ends up in Prythian after forging the lock. Stuck in a new world where a tyrant is ruling as Queen she finds herself roped into a courts efforts to save their High Lord and the rest of Prythian. All Aelin knows is she’ll skin the being responsible for her ending up in another war torn world.

A what if where Feyre didn't kill the wolf

ACOTAR X TOG
potential CC ft

(I do not support SJM's political beliefs)

Notes:

Basically a what if
Disclaimers and A/N at the end

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: a choice

Chapter Text

The cold bit into my fingers as I crouched in the snow, my bowstring pulled taut, my heartbeat a steady drum in my ears. The wolf stood mere yards away, massive and still, golden eyes locked onto mine. Too intelligent. Too aware.

 

I could do it. I should do it.

 

The pelt alone could keep us warm for weeks. The meat would mean full bellies, even if just for a little while. This was survival. This was what I had done a hundred times before.

 

And yet—my fingers trembled.

 

The wolf didn't move. It only watched me, unblinking, the rise and fall of its breath steady against the stillness of the frozen forest. Snowflakes drifted between us, settling lightly on its thick fur, undisturbed. It didn't bare its teeth. It didn't run.

 

I swallowed hard, my throat dry.

 

If it was just a beast, then there was no reason to hesitate. But if it wasn't... if it was *fae*...

 

The bowstring cut into my fingers. The arrowhead glinted, poised to end whatever quiet understanding passed between us.

 

But I couldn't.

 

Slowly, I exhaled. My grip loosened. The bowstring slackened. The arrow dipped.

 

The wolf's ears flicked. For a long moment, neither of us moved. Then, as if deciding that I was no threat, it turned. Its massive paws crunched in the snow, effortless and silent, and it strode away into the trees, disappearing between the dark trunks.

 

I stood there long after it was gone, breath ghosting in the frozen air. My fingers ached where I had held the bow too tightly.

 

I should have killed it. I *should* have.

 

But I didn't.

 

And somehow, deep in my bones, I knew—this was not the end. Only the beginning.

I waited a breath before creeping towards the fallen deer, cutting out the ruined meat and hefting it onto my shoulders. Snow clung to my lashes and as I trudged through the woods, snow seeping into my boots. As our house fell into view the sneaking doubt wormed its way forward. I couldn’t help but fear i'd live to regret my choice.

Chapter Text

Too fast. She had to slow–

 

She plummeted into the last of herself, into what remained, grappling for any sort of power to slow her racing.

 

Space raced past her as she continued to hurtle through worlds. A world where a great city had been built along the curve of a river, the buildings impossibly tall and glimmering with lights flew on beneath her.

 

Passed through a world of rain and green and wind. Golden hair ripped at her scalp, tears rolling down her face as she flew.

 

Her scream was lost to the roaring wind. A ringing in her ears.

 

She tried to slow.

 

Wind raced through her fingers, arms windmilling.

 

She passed through a world of oceans with no land to be seen.

 

Close. Home was so close she could nearly smell the pine and snow. If she missed it, if she passed by it–

 

The night sky swallowed her whole, an endless abyss of velvet black strewn with cold, distant stars. Wind roared past, tearing at her clothes, pressing against her skin like the breath of the void itself. The world above had vanished, and below—nothing. Just the vast unknown stretching endlessly, waiting, watching. A force pulled her faster, the stars blurring into streaks of silver light, the weight of the fall pressing against her chest like unseen hands. The silence was deafening, broken only by the rush of air and the distant, pounding heartbeat of fear. Aelin reached for something—anything—but there was nothing to grasp, only the endless descent, the great, yawning dark pulling her home.

 

She passed through a world of snow capped mountains under shining stars.

 

Panic was starting to set in, she needed to slow, now. She dug, clawing at the ashes eddying inside her and dragged them fluttering and protesting to the surface.

 

Flinging out her hands she pushed. Her head whipping round. Mountains flew on beneath her the largest towering over a valley holding a shining city. A house? Windows carved into the mountain face, a balcony protruding from the cliff face holding a small group of fae- there were fae in this world- two of the four wearing wings.

 

She flung out a desperate hand as the air around her charged. Hot and smokey. The remains of her power answering her pleads. She felt a buffering in her speed.

 

Relief, cool and clear rushing through her.

 

A call echoed in the space around her, it twined through her hair, buzzed over her skin. An ancient power coiling around her, holding her, slowing her. Whatever it was had heard her pleas and had decided to answer.

 

The wind slowed, the world unblurred. She slowed more–

 

Too much.

 

Too slow. She was stopping.

 

Panic seized her. Her heart- was it beating? She didn't think it had. Gods, too fucking slow.

 

She'd passed the small group of fae by now, the peaks of mountains still passing beneath her, snow and pine filling her nose. The smell of her home and yet not. Almost, so close. A hint of what it should've been. The snow was harsher, biting at her nose as the pines felt bitter in their undertone, so close yet so different.

 

She was falling–

 

She was still slowing, the ground rising up to meet her, the tips of the tallest trees now skimming her boots. She'd die if she didn't slow herself more. Nevermind not making it home, she wouldn't make it out if she didn't stop herself. Ashes floated.

 

Nothing. Nothing to help her here.

 

A body of water was rising up to meet her. The ocean stretched out like a vast sheet of dark steel, its surface gleaming with the cold sheen of moonlight. Great waves reared and curled, their silver-crested peaks crashing down with a thunderous roar, only to rise again in endless procession. The wind howled through the abyss, whispering secrets in its eerie, salt-laden breath, calling, coaxing, drawing one ever closer. Beneath the heaving mass, the deep beckoned—a fathomless void where shadows danced and ancient currents pulled with unseen hands. It was a summons both beautiful and terrible, an invitation to surrender, to slip beneath the surging tide and be lost in the endless, whispering dark.

 

Fear gripped her fast in its colling fingers. The end is near, it whispered, feel the wind against you pressing you down to meet your end.

 

You have lived too long.

 

Desperation grabbed the droplet of water inside her. Her mother, the last piece she had. Aelin begged, held it close inside her chest and willed it to protect her as her mother had done.

 

The change was instantaneous. Goosebumps pricked her skin, a cooling sensation trickling across her. Falling rain. As if her mother were watching over her she felt the embrace of the waves, icey and biting and yet gentle in their grasp.

 

Until it was no longer gentle. Secure in her survival, her mother fled and the ocean claimed with envy. It was hard, water crashing against her, pulling her under.

 

Sand beneath her hands, rocks against her back. Darkness surrounded her, salt burning at her eyes. Her legs were stuck, something was holding them. Twisting, her fingers splayed grasping through the water, her legs kicking in with instinct.

 

The water was everywhere, pressing in, heavy and cold. Light fractured above, distant and unreachable, rippling like a mirage. Her lungs burned, a deep, clawing ache, but the weight of the abyss held her fast. Every movement felt slow, dreamlike, as if the ocean had claimed her, made her part of its silent, endless world.

 

Bubbles slipped from her lips, rising lazily toward the surface, vanishing into the shimmering veil of light. Panic clawed at her ribs, but the deep was patient—it had time. Darkness curled at the edges of her vision, and the sea cradled her gently, whispering in the hush of the current, lulling her into its stillness.

 

The light of the moon streamed through the surface of the water. Beams of moonlight danced about the current. Come on little one, it called. This way-

 

Up- up -up-

 

Frozen muscles strained as Aelin pushed from the seabed, the pressure urging her down yet she resisted pushing her limbs into action as she swam upwards towards the beckoning moon.

 

The cold night kissed her skin. Pale face breaking the surface, great rasping breaths echoing as she gulped in air, turning herself so the water was at her back.

 

Everything hurt.

 

Her lungs sucked in air greedily, salt in her mouth, water in her lungs as waves crested over her mobile figure.

 

The stars were unusually bright, great droplets of water dripping from her lashes into her eyes. Another wave crested. Spluttering she flipped over, the freezing water masking any pain as she swam for the shore. All she could feel was ice, her fingers already tingling in warning, her skin burning with the cold.

 

Land. She just needed land. To sit and breathe. She kept swimming, her muscles burning as she pushed harder and faster. Gods she was tired. Her limbs slowing in their movements the closer she got.

 

A little bit further- just a little bit further. She could get there. Would warm herself up. Needed to.

 

Land greeted her tired body, her back met the hard ground, frost seeming to cling to her already. Dazed blue and gold followed her path from the shore to the -sea?- she had dragged herself from. Waves lapped at her boots, curling at her legs seeking to pull her back, to claim what was promised. Huffing breaths escaped her as she dragged herself further up the shore.

 

Sand was coarse under her fingers, small sharp rocks digging into the calloused flesh. Everything was shaking as she pulled herself further, her forearms shovelling sand as she slithered over it.

 

Once her feet were clear of the water she flipped. Her eyes closed, limbs splayed as she gasped allowing herself this small reprieve. Seconds, minutes, she didn't know as she lay there allowing any and all dibbles of her fire to evaporate the water clinging to her and her clothes.

Chapter Text

She lay on the cool sand, her body sinking into its soft embrace, the night air wrapping around her like a whisper. Above, the sky stretched endlessly, a tapestry of stars scattered like shattered glass, their cold light shimmering against the vast black. The waves rolled in gentle and rhythmic, their whispers filling the silence, retreating back into the endless dark expanse of the sea.

 

Behind her, the forest loomed, an ancient mass of twisting trunks and tangled branches, its depths impenetrable in the night. The scent of damp earth and pine drifted on the breeze, mingling with the salt-laced air. Shadows stretched between the trees, shifting with the wind, alive in their stillness. Somewhere in the distance, a branch snapped—a soft, sudden sound swallowed by the night.

 

She exhaled slowly, her fingers tracing idle patterns in the sand. The world felt vast and untouched, cradled in darkness, humming with quiet secrets. And for now, she simply listened. Ears straining for further sounds in this foreign world.

 

Anger filled her. Hot and burning to ward off the cold. She could almost fool herself into seeing the steam rise from her body. Frustrated tears leaked from the corner of her eyes as she lay there. Alone, sandy and fucking freezing. The gods hated her. She knew this, had punished them accordingly and some other all overseeing being had decided to get retribution on her. When she her hands on the godforsaken being she would tear them limb for limb and leave their remains strewn across this hellbirthed world she had ended up in. She'd skin them first, give their hides to whatever poor creatures needed it here. Maybe she'd bind her own book in it. A final fuck you to every and all meddelsome deity out there. 'The chosen one's guide to retribution: how to get back on the gods who meddle in your life by Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.'.

 

A title in the works. She'd circle back to that.

 

She huffed, expelling air in a cloud of mist, and took a deep breath. Her lungs filled with the bitterly cold air, cold like terresan in the winter, the kind of chill Aedion would shrug off and then fling his cloak at her. A pang worse than any injuries she gained filled her. An ache accompanying the sharp taut tug of the bond. It was barely there. But its almost absence was exactly what made it so noticeable. It was almost gone, an aching hole in her chest. Green eyes rose in her mind and she pushed it down, ignoring the taught thread hanging in her.

 

A rattling filled the air. Could she breathe? It didnt feel like it. Her lungs sharp with pain. Sand clung to under her nails as she gripped the shore. She rolled over onto her knees. Great shuddering breaths.

 

In - out - in-

 

Rasping became wheezing. She focused on her nose. The snot bubbling on the tip as she forced air into her uncooperative lungs. She had survived worse. She was encountered worse. She would survive. She would endure, no breaking, no bending, no fear.

 

The cold seeped in again, she could feel her mainly dry clothes sticking to her skin, the sand and damp making themselves home on her body. She reached up, hands tucking matted hair out of her face. First . First she needed to find somewhere to stay. Her feet shook beneath her as she stood, adrenaline fleeing her and exhaustion settling deep in her bones.

 

It could wait. She had survived worse.

 

Her eyes peered to the sky above her, the stars offering no direction. Her own breath circling her head as she studied the inky expanse. The sky above was nothing like the one she had known. It was clearer than she was used to in Adarlan. Gone was the familiar emptiness, the distant, cold pinpricks of light scattered across a sea of black. Here, the night was alive. The heavens pulsed with colour—deep violets, electric blues, and rivers of molten gold swirling together in an endless cosmic dance. Stars burned brighter, closer, as if they were within reach, humming with unseen energy. Great nebulae stretched across the sky like luminous brushstrokes, shifting and twisting in slow, celestial motion.

 

It wasn't just a sky; it was a world of its own, breathing, watching, welcoming. The air hummed with something unseen, something ancient and knowing. For the first time, they didn't feel like a small thing lost in the vastness. She watched the stars and actually felt for the first time that they watched her back. This place—the vibrant sky, the living night—she was sure would offer her the first semblance of peace in this new world if its unfamiliarity didn't act as undeniable proof that she was not where she belonged.

 

Blues and purples glittered in iridescent hues, the colours swirling and eddying into a magnificent canvas of indigos and navy and onyx, the stars vibrant against their backdrop. She was sure it was a comforting sight to those familiar, a bright map home to those who could read its hidden beautiful truths. Just like her stag. Yet all it seemed to do was remind her she was not where she belonged and she never would–

 

She sniffed, stopping more snot from decorating her face. Slender fingers pulled her sleeve close to wipe the offending fluids from her. Shelter.

 

She was on a stretch of beach, more of a cove in honestly with the water flowing into what she could only assume to be a river. Well she had her direction. Better to follow the water source into the unknown. She strode in that direction, maybe it would be more efficient to run yet she wanted, no needed to take in her surroundings. To become familiar with all she could, even if it was the wilderness, was crucial for now.

 

At least she knew fae were known here or at least existed. Needn't fear persecution— hopefully. The cove was small and so the walk to follow the river not long and soon she found herself traipsing along the rivers bank, the water stretching wide enough for the opposite shore to be a strain on the eyes. More than wide enough for ships to fit through. A good sign, hopefully it was a trade route and at the very least used for travel, regardless there should be an outpost at some point along its length, and hopefully one not new to wandering travellers or traders.

Chapter Text

Woods stretched either side of the river. The one at her back not lacking in density as she continued her hike and not yet close enough currently to bridge a problem but one she would need to keep her eyes on.

 

Her ears twitched near constantly, trailing after any and all sounds. She shuddered. Who knew what creatures lurked in the shadows. Her mind flashed to the skinwalkers. If she met them, if they existed here she was as good as dead. The empty well beneath her skin unsettlingly quiet and she knew even when rested and recovered there would be little more than a droplet of water and a spark of flame to comfort her.

 

Another pang.

 

Gods, at least that was a pain she could bring herself to face now. Something to chip off the list of ever growing problems she needed to address. She was effectively powerless. Better than dead though she reminded herself. And yet that seemed worse. After her journey of learning to embrace her powers of facing them and treating them as a part of her, a part of her she had grown to adore just as ro- he had. All that work, and it was gone. She had thought them a burden, had thought them a weapon that could only destroy and yet she knew she had grown to love her flames. For them to become as much a part of her as he had and now they were gone. They were gone. She was left empty, empty and alone.

 

The emptiness was suffocating. Where once there had been power—an endless current surging beneath her skin, a fire in her veins—now there was nothing. Just silence. Just absence. She reached for it instinctively, like a phantom limb, only to grasp at the void where it had been, where it should be. The weight of the loss settled deep, pressing against her ribs, leaving her hollow.

 

The world around her felt larger now, heavier, its edges sharper without the comforting barrier of strength that had once set her apart. She had survived before without it before, she knew that and would continue to do so now and yet that didn't stop the wind feeling a bit colder, the shadows stretching darker, and every step leaving her unsteady. She had been something more. Something vast. And now... now she was just this. A frayed echo of what had been, left to wander through a world already not her own.

 

The loss was already unbearable, a hollow ache where power had once thrived, but here—here, in this unfamiliar world—it was something worse. It was isolation. Displacement. Everything around her was strange: the air tasted different, thick with unfamiliar scents, the sky stretched in unnatural hues, and the ground beneath her feet felt wrong, as if the very earth rejected her.

 

Aelin reached for the power instinctively, the way one reaches for balance when slipping—but it wasn't there. It never would be again. The realisation hit harder in this alien place, where nothing was familiar, where the absence of this strength left her exposed, vulnerable. Before, she had been something greater, something untouchable. Now, she was just another lost traveler, a stranger in a world that did not know her. The weight of it pressed in from all sides, thick and suffocating.

 

She had lost herself once when her power was stripped away. Now, in this place, she was losing herself.

 

The tears cooled as quickly as they fell, she forced herself to move on. The moon was high, arching above her and steadily making its way towards the horizon. She couldn't afford to waste energy on running, not in this state when all she could bring herself to do was to keep walking.

 

The sun rose as the forest encroached onto her path, the leaves of the canopy above speckling the light below. It was beautiful in a way only a forest blessed with magic could be. She watched the wildlife flitter around her, steering clear of her yet reaching out to sense her, to unearth the otherworldly aura about her.

 

What she could only assume to be pixies flittered about-quick as a humming bird, toadstools grew amongst the moss despite the frigid temperatures and flowers titled their petals towards the watery light.

 

Now would be a good time to rest. The creatures of the day seemed more manageable under the light, the forest more welcoming and at least it would mean should she be attacked that she had more advantage than the dark. A large tree had fallen, a small hollow in the foliage bellow whispered shelter, sunlight flickering through into the space and offering a warming presence. She nestled in, her body tucked tightly against herself and ears alert as she fell into an uneasy sleep.

 

When she woke the sky was dark, her eyes widening to let more light in as she surveyed the land around her. It was quiet, there seemed to be no hidden breaths, no slight stirring in the undergrowth aside from the sounds she had come to recognise as mundane. The forest, for all speculation, was quiet.

 

Aelin lay there. Letting the cold replace the exhaustion from her body. It was milder, muffled by the added weight above her. She moved watching as the frost crept across the forest bed, stopping just before reaching the dark fabric covering her. Cautious not to make a sound she sat herself up, pulling the fabric into the moonlight to examine it.

 

A tattered cloak, weathered yet still thick, hung between her outstretched hands. A eyebrow twitched. Someone or something had placed it on her while she had been asleep. A thrill of fear raced down her spine, muting the warm glow of gratefulness that enveloped her. She had no idea who or what had placed it on her, tucking her in to keep her warm- yet she was thankful, even as she knew the action was also a warning. She was not safe here, she could be snuck up on. This person had chose kindness, the kindness of warmth but also of knowledge. She would need to keep herself aware.

 

The cloak quickly fastened itself around her neck, hood covering her golden hair as she creeped from her hiding place, the feeling of eyes on her egging her forwards into the dark, towards the sound of the rushing river.

 

As she made her way along the bank, swift and silent, she pondered. A gift, a warning, a favour? Regardless she hoped the smell of the cloak, ancient, cold, bitter, would cover her otherworldly sent, her faeness to the predators as she tried to embody the being whose cloak she now inhabited. Night stretched on, the cold growing more fierce and she swore she would repay the kindness of a warm cloak in a cold forest.

Chapter Text

The river curved through the terrain, flowing sedately alongside her as she kept moving, as the sun crested the horizon there was no sign of civilisation. Nothing aside from herself, the river and the forest at her back. A fact she was very aware of as she never left her back directly facing the waiting trees.

 

She needed to sleep, and wash. Gods she would do anything for a hot bath, a hot bath and lavender soap, soft towels and her thick sheets. The thought had her groaning. A book with cake curled by the fire, jasmine tea balanced between her legs, fleetfoot curled next to her providing her extra warmth. The thought was torturous, near sinful with how much she craved it.

 

The sun graced her face as it peered through the clouds, its warmth not quite reaching her but the sentiment received well. Reds merged with the indigo birthing a beautiful eddy of colour as the moon retreated beyond the mountains. She smiled up at it, allowed it to bask upon her skin, she could imagine the phantom warmth of the early sun even with the sky still lightening. The water turned bloody in its reflection and Aelin couldn't help think to the of the saying spoken by the shepherds from her home.

 

"Red sky at night shepherds delight, red sky in the morning, shepherds warning." she muttered, eyeing the red sunrise with blooming distrust.

 

If it rained she was sure she would not be responsible for whatever actions transpired in her effort to get shelter. Luckily for the occupants of whatever backwater kingdom she was in, this was the precise moment smoke made itself visible above the tips of the pines in the distance.

 

Finally civilisation.

 

She hurried forwards until she reached the docks of the small outpost village. Merchant vessels, some large and others smaller and more pontoon like were moored along the shore of the river, fishing vessels and travel vessels accompanying them on the soft surface of the river. She sunk behind the port house, hooking her fingers into the guttering and hauling herself up onto the roof, the thatched hay doing little for her purchase. Her back facing the rivers entrance, Aelin peered over the crest of the roof and settled herself in to watch.

 

The port town was exactly that. A small town perched on the mouth of the river before it split in two slimmed down one heading north towards the wilderness and the other towards what appeared to be a break in the mountains. A break in the mountains that she could assume to be some main city, judging by the frequent departure of ships in that direction.

 

Dock men checked cargo and lists, signatures and permits, merchants retired into the local inns to rest their feet and their ship hands hurried off to find the warm comfort of companions, food and sleep. All together it wasn't much difficulty for her to stretch an identity into existence, especially considering all occupants were some type of fae.

 

She slipped back off the roof and retreated back the way she had came. Sliding down the bank of the river she rid herself of as much grime from her face and hair as she could and then continued her way onwards back towards the town. She was stopped, unsurprisingly, as she reached the gates to the port house.

 

"State your business." The male looked down at her, a roll of parchment clasped in one palm, the other half out in front of her to block the way. His sword was clear as day, unguarded and utterly unimpressive. Aelin looked up, her eyes moving from their downcast position to peer up at him through waterlogged lashes.

 

"Sorry-" she looked at him as if to find clues for his status , "Captain."

 

Flattery ought to work.

 

"I'm just passing through I only need a room for the night. I was joining my father on one of his trading trips- it would be a new beginning for us he said." She wrung her hands , looking away. "He said that a lot. It ended just as well this time as it always has. Left me when the collectors came. I'm heading for my aunts, she said i was always welcome, but i just didn't want to leave him you know? Well before-" she allowed herself to trail off.

 

The guard looked at her, his eyes hard but understanding. "It's alright girl", his hand found a place on her shoulder. "You go settle yourself, I'll help you find convoy to your aunts come the morrow. If i could just take your name.."

 

"Celaena, Celaena Sardothien." She smiled, nodding politely as he pointed her in the direction of the more savoury establishment. It was pretty but not what Aelin had in mind. Once out of sight, she slipped into the shadows and rearranged herself before striding towards a rundown Inn. The shutters were worn but sturdy, and the glow from behind them promised the heat within. She strode towards it, weaving past the patrons leaving, avoiding bumping into them by a thread as deft fingers freed loose coin pouches.

 

The inside of the Inn was warm and as clean as could be expected. The hearth held a roaring fire, a cauldron on top whispering of the meat stew it held. Aelin ignored the protests her stomach made as she strode to the bar maid, her expression plain as the bark-skinned faerie turned to face her.

 

"A room please, just for the night."

 

The faerie barely glanced at her from polishing the goblets it held. "Breakfast services required?" it looked up, "bathing services too?".

 

Aelin grit her teeth. "Yes to all."

 

"Two silver marks for board, food is twelve copper and bathing an extra three copper." It looked at her.

 

Aelin reached for the pouched she had emptied into her pockets, fishing out what felt like the middle sized coins. She was greeted by two silver and dug around the larger flat ones, thin as tin to find fifteen copper. The light metals tinkering in her hand as she handed over the required amount. She had no idea if it was a good rate, no idea if she had been completely ripped off but with no information to go off of she took what she could.

 

"Breakfast ends at noon. I can have a tub brought up to your room now." The fae passed over the key, a great heavy thing which Aelin clasped tightly. She followed the faerie up the stairs and to a door marked with a 7.

 

"The tub will be brought up in a few moments, we'll knock." With that it sashayed down the stairs, leaving her alone in the dark corridor.

 

The lock was heavy as she turned the key, the door swinging open to show a sparse room. A twin bed shoved in a corner against the wall, a window next to it and the nightstand. A chimney ran through the room on the far wall, a small fireplace breaking the expanse, heating the small space, a chest of draws opposite the window next to the door she shut behind her.

 

She settled herself against the bricked chimney, unlacing her boots. The mud from her walk had stuck to them unpleasantly. No point in cleaning them- they wouldn't dry properly in time for tomorrow.

 

A knock sounded, a heartbeat and a different faerie entered, blue skinned and lifting a copper tub through the door, settling it in the corner next to the chimney where she sat. The faerie left and came back carrying pails of steaming water, continuing until the tub was sufficiently filled. They set a bar of soap on the chest of draws and nodded before leaving.

 

Aelin dragged herself towards the door, locking it and then stripping herself of all clothing and sinking into the burning water letting the cold leach out of her. It was heaven, blissful warmth. She soaked, watching the steam rise in swirling pillars around her, the damp sticking to her face.

 

Here in the peace of her room, warm from her bath and vulnerable she allowed herself to feel the hollowness inside her, the one twinning her empty well. The bond was taught- close to snapping she thought. A terrified spike shot through her. She was stuck here, well should be stuck here should she have forged the lock correctly. She needed to check that, a selfish ingot of hope rising in her.

 

She wanted her home, Rowan and Terassen. She needed them, needed him, but if that lock had worked she knew there was nothing she could do to break it, and nothing she would do. She had made her choice going in to forge the lock. She had fully expected to not walk away from it and yet she had, an added bonus really. One small gift from the gods she had damned, from the one god who only ever cared for her daughter. Yet it hadn't been enough, she had been stuck here. Which she supposed was worse. Stuck alive with potentially no way nome- hopefully no way home. It was better for them all if there was no way home. They didn't need her as much as they needed the Wyrdkeys gone. They would manage. She knew they would, and Rowan would care for her people.

 

Absolute sorrow filled her. She would never see her home again. The worst part being as much as she wanted to she knew it was better if she didn't- better for them all because it meant they were safe from the threat of the keys. Gods what would Rowan say? Her buzzard...

 

She submerged her head, the water pushing down on her and her thoughts. That was enough, she needed to refuel and plan. Needed to figure out her next moves and before that needed to figure out where the actual fuck she was.

Chapter Text

Once clean and scrubbed with pine soap they had given her she stepped free from tub and settled in front of the fire on a small stool. The fire dried her soon enough and she rose, dumping her clothes into the warm water and scrubbing them thoroughly. Before laying them out on the floor in font of the fire to dry.

 

New clothes could wait, they were not a priority considering she knew nothing about where she was. She sat back on the stool, deft fingers working the knots from her hair as it dried in the warmth. Once it was mostly dry, her undergarments too she pulled them on and moved to the window, peering into the street below.

 

This world was.. new. There were faeries, like actual faeries other than the little folk and fae. From that alone it seemed like this world would be more magical than her own, more like the legends of her world before Erawan ever took hold of the king. Safer for her to be in her fae form then, luckily, considering she had given up her human form.

 

So far there were no blatant displays of magic, she knew it was here. Could smell it in the air, on the occupants of the town, some more than others. She'd need to investigate that more, see where she fit in all this. Currently she knew she was empty, the question was how much that would grow to once she had rested. A question she awaited the answer with dread.

 

There was a difference in the operation of things here too. No running water for one, and no plumbing either she assumed from the outhouse she could see sequestered round the corner of the building. Or maybe it was just the lack of funding for the region. Perhaps a class difference? Something to note- maybe.

 

She surveyed the dock, most of the boats seeming to head in the same direction and towards that break in the mountains. Being a stowaway might be the best bet. She wandered over to her clothes. Pulling them and her boots on before leaving in search for food.

 

The body of the in was welcoming as peered around the support joust and into the room. The space was a haven of warmth against the chill, its air thick with the scent of roasting meat, spiced cider and old wood. A great hearth dominated one side of the common room, flames crackling and throwing flickering light across the stone floor. Shadows danced along the heavy beams overhead, their surfaces darkened with smoke and age, etched with carvings left by travellers long forgotten.

 

A lone seat next to the shutters and near the hearth was empty. Uneven stones met her foot on her walk to her seat. She pulled her jerk-skin closer around her and settled into the warmth of the fire, eyes surveying the area.

 

Rough-hewn tables filled the space, some scarred with knife marks, others crowded with tankards and plates piled high with steaming bread and stew. The murmur of conversation wove through the air, punctuated by bursts of laughter, the clatter of dice on wood, and the occasional rise of a minstrel's tune from the corner. Worn tapestries hung along the walls, their colours faded but their stories still whispering of ancient battles.

 

She recognised none of them.

 

A bar stretched along the back, its surface polished by years of sliding coins and impatient hands. Behind it, shelves bowed beneath an assortment of bottles and casks, their contents glowing amber and gold in the lantern light. The innkeeper, a broad-shouldered man with a knowing smirk, poured drinks with the ease of someone who had seen every kind of traveler cross his threshold. Aelin wondered the worst he had seen.

 

The same faerie who had shown her to her room crossed in front of her.

 

"I can offer you mushroom or beef?" They looked to her for direction.

 

"Beef please." Aelin offered her a smile, pleased when she received one in turn.

 

The bowl was set before her with a dull thud, the wooden spoon clattering against its rim. Steam curled up in delicate tendrils, carrying the scent of slow-cooked meat, root vegetables, and rich, peppery broth. Her hands trembled as they reached for it—whether from exhaustion or sheer hunger, she couldn't tell.

 

The first spoonful burned her tongue, but she didn't care. The thick, hearty stew coated her throat, warmth spreading through her chest like a long-forgotten embrace.

 

Each bite was a salve, chasing away the hollow ache of days spent with nothing but cold water. The tender meat melted against her teeth, the broth seeped into every crack of her weariness, and for the first time in too long, she felt something close to whole.

 

The world around her blurred—the chatter of the inn, the crackling fire, the clink of tankards—as she hunched over their meal, spoon scraping against the bowl, desperate to claim every last drop. Aelin slowed her eating to a more sedate pace as she used the bread to mop up the remaining broth, settling herself back into the hard chair to eavesdrop on the patrons of the inn. Trade talk was the most common, weather following close behind and each mention of the incoming storm had her eyes drifting further shut. Her bowl wiped clean and bread gone she resolved to wait only a few more minutes until she retired to what she hoped would be an uninterrupted sleep.

 

"I wouldn't if I were you. They've been getting restless- pushing the boarders now that there's no hope of the High Lord returning." She angled her head further down her palm, seeming to all the world she was settling into herself.

 

"They were before, they are now. The fact remains its untapped potential. Gamble this right an I'll be set for life."

 

The other man scoffed- Aelin dared not cast a glance.

 

"Set for life may be but with a target on your back most definitely. They're not to be messed with Kaolin."

 

"And I shan't be messing."

 

"You might as well be, trying to establish trade routes. Now our Lord is gone it all falls down to his inner circle and well, no-one's heard much from them save entering the city and that cunt Keir is making his influence known. Has been since the beginning of the blight. If you go messing with Illryians you'll find yourself in a whole world of trouble, not just with them but him too." His tone was firm, an elder advising the youth, trying the quell the arrogant ambition. There was a slump- the younger falling in defeat.

 

"It's going to get worse isn't it?" Aelin could taste the males hopelessness.

 

"Yes" it was short, "Not much the court can do with the Red Queen breathing down the necks of each court. It would be a fools errand for them to try and bring the rebelling factions under control again, would bring unnecessary attention to us and that is the last thing we all need.". There was a grim silence, one that stretched on for minutes until Aelin knew the conversation was done.

 

She rose, placing her bowl and spoon onto the bar top and making her way up the stairs, her eyes lingering on the shadows that skittered along the floor boards and over her shoes. A power she had not seen. She sniffed and all she could smell was the abyss.

Chapter Text

Rhysand was once again trapped in the celebrations that plagued the throne room. The cavernous space was alive with an ethereal glow, bathed in the soft shimmer of fae lights, their glass stained with ancient patterns that danced as though in a trance. The air hummed with magic, thick and sweet, as the fae gathered in a swirl of colour and sound. The room, once grand and austere, had transformed into a wonderland of twisting vines, iridescent flowers, and floating lanterns that drifted lazily through the air, casting a soft, golden hue over the revelry.

 

Rhysand found he hated the entire thing. He found he hated it more because he once would've loved it.

 

The fae themselves shimmered like living jewels, their skin aglow with the dust of stars, their eyes bright with mischief and ancient secrets. They twirled and glided across the floor in a rhythm all their own, laughter ringing like chimes, high and clear, filling the vastness of the hall. Music drifted from every corner—soft and lilting, yet wild, as strings and flutes blended with the occasional fluttering of wings. Some fae danced barefoot, their feet barely brushing the ground, while others stood to sidelines, chattering and simply basking in the revelry.

 

At the far end of the room, the throne—a mockery—sat oppressive. The dark onyx stone taunting him. He drank from his cup. The Queen of the Fae sat there, though she appeared little more than a wisp in the midst of it all, her crown a gold ornate band, her gaze as distant and cruel as the land she had come from. Her laughter, soft but commanding, wove through the music like a spell, pulling all into the enchantment. Bile rose.

 

The walls seemed to pulse with life, as if the very stones were singing along, and the night stretched on endlessly. Time, here, was forgotten, and the party flowed like a river of dreams, where everything was a reflection of beauty, chaos, and boundless freedom. It was a lie. It had always been a lie but in the last three years since Tamlin's descent under the mountain it had changed. The lie had become believable, simply because no one wished to face the reality of what that had meant. So revelry it was.

 

Purple eyes sought the cup clasped tightly in his grip, the faerie wine was good, made in Dawn. A change from the usual Autumn selection. He preferred it, less spiced and more tart. His mind reached out, dark talons skimming across the crowd, never enough for them to notice as he perused their surface thoughts. There was nothing interesting anymore, all shallow. Hope was lost and so they moved on, faced with the reality of a lifetime under this mountain. The thought threatened to swallow him whole. The familiar flickers of rage burned hotter under his skin. He cast a glance towards the throne- thrones, if one counted the farce Tamlin had been given. Red nails traced patterns along the shapeshifters thighs as he stared blankly out at the crowd.

 

Rhysand had thought he would feel some vindictive satisfaction. Someone who had mocked him now subject to the same torment- albeit in a different font. He had soon found he felt no such feelings. Would rather no one else had to perform as he did. His lips curled in a grimace. Hatred and pity for the High Lord of Spring warring in him. Regardless of his feelings, nothing had changed. He was still a plaything for the bitch queen and Tamlin her unwilling consort. He supposed he could at least be grateful she didn't hold him in the same esteem as her dear beast and so their company was never demanded at the same time. The rest of the wine was gone in a gulp.

 

The songs were reaching the pace where it would soon be acceptable for him to sneak off. He had no duties tonight and so could lock himself away in his room with a bottle of whatever he could steal from the celebrations. He stood, shined shoes clipping against the red floor as he strode towards the table of beverages. Autumn red, Autumn spiced, mulled, ah! Dawn. He grabbed the unopened bottle, letting it hand from his fingers as he manoeuvred to lean against the closest engraved pillar. No-one cast him a glance.

 

He wondered what was happening outside the walls of his new existence. 'New' was to be taken lightly he mused. There was nothing new about this, it had been his reality for the past fifty three years and yet before there had been hope. Nothing could describe the sheer terror he had felt when Tamlin had finally been brought into the throne room. Silly as it seemed he had hoped the High Lord of Spring would have been able to make progress on the curse, the bargain he supposed. Yet the days passed and no human lover walked through those doors demanding her amour be set free. No miraculous mortal saviour. He huffed a laugh.

 

Almost time. He could leave soon.

 

He had run through what felt like endless plans and schemes yet the fallout should he and anyone else fail would be too high. He had seen what had happened to those younglings in winter court. No one, not even he was willing to risk that again.

 

He cast a glance back over the room, the revellers now near incoherent, the room thinning and Amarantha too occupied with her consort. He pushed off the pillar, stepping towards the side door, bottle swinging and almost missed a step as he felt his heart fall through his stomach. There was a breach in the wards, something had passed through Velaris only to leave a second later.

 

He didn't know how he got back to his rooms, how he had boarded himself away. His focus solely on the feeling of the enchantments surrounding his city. What could it have been? To have entered for such a short time and then leave. It had to have been felt with and yet he felt terror. The only thing to trigger that reaction from the wards was an unfamiliar being- something that didn't have awareness of the city. An intruder.

Chapter 8: 7

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Whatever it was that had sent the shadows was outside her room, now she had felt the shadows she knew it was there. Could smell that same abyss. Darkness and obscurity taken human form. Mist invaded her senses, barely there and blending into the rain heavy environment just as the being lurking outside her room did. The accompanying scent of cedar heavy on her tongue.

 

Whoever was out there didn't want her to know they were, they were too still, their scent too muffled for it to be anything but deliberate. She shifted around the room, acting for all the world to be going about her business. The one and only time she would curse fae hearing she supposed. A scoff left her lips. No, definitely not the last time she would curse it. She picked up her cloak, tying it around her shoulders and went and prodded the fire, the chill in her was fiercer than the common room after all. The copper rub had disappeared. She peered around, there was no poker- the fire presumably magical in origin, no lamp, nor washbasin. She supposed she could smash the bedside table over their head. The stool was another option.

 

She moved the stool to the door, and then moved towards the bed, closing the shutters on her way then sinking into the mattress and pulling the sheets towards her. They were coarse under her touch.

 

A creak from the hallway. Deliberate she assumed. Or unskilled.

 

The tension in her head from straining her ears was building. The lack of sleep not helping.

 

Another creak. She lay down, facing the wall in the gloom. Silence bar the shift of the air. Whoever it was had just appeared in her room- without opening the door. Fear cradled her heart, pumping it into an irregular beat as she lay still. She forced herself to breathe evenly, deep and unhurried. She stirred, a frown marring her brow. A nightmare- enough to disturb her heart.

 

To act now or wait? The room was still, silent—until it wasn't. She felt it again, the shift of air. A breeze over her neck. She froze, breath barely stuttering in her throat, eyes darting to the corner of the room where shadows clung thick and heavy, obscuring the edges of the dim light. At first, she thought it was the flicker of the candle, a trick of the dark—but no.

 

There, sitting at the foot of the bed, was someone else.

 

The figure was barely visible, just a silhouette against the far wall, their outline sharp and unnatural in the low light. She had heard them move, had felt the shift of air that usually accompanied an intruder and yet they had settled into the foot of her bed and she hadn't know.

 

How long had they been there? The question knotted in their chest, tightening with panic.

 

What had she felt then near her neck- were there more than one? Or was her mind playing tricks? The figure was unmoving, but there was something wrong about it. Too still. Too silent. Her heart raced, thumping painfully against her ribs as she struggled to comprehend what she was seeing, or worse—what she wasn't seeing. The person's face, if it could even be called that, was hidden in the deep shadows, but the outline of their body was unmistakable. There was no sound of breath, no shift in the fabric of their clothes. It was as if the figure wasn't fully there, as if the air itself couldn't quite decide if they belonged.

 

Aelin wrapped her hand tighter around the cloth under her hands, so subtle it could easily be seen as an unconscious movement of a sleeping person, but the motion felt too loud, too deliberate in the thick, suffocating silence. The figure remained unmoving, but there was a sense of awareness now—a quiet, oppressive presence in the room that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.She tried to swallow, but her throat was dry, tight. The only thing louder than the pounding of their heart was the growing certainty: This being was nothing she was familiar with.

 

Plans through her head and before she could react she flung herself to the side just before a hand reached for her ankle. The male - she could see now that he had been freed from the shadows- grasped empty air, his head already turning to face her. Gods he had been part of the shadows. It was chaos from there, and it was all she could do in her worn state to evade and try and flee for the exit. She would go down swinging but Aelin had no intentions to die in some backwater port town after surviving so much.

 

The moonlight crept through the gap in the shutters, casting jagged shadows across the cramped room, illuminating the tension thick in the air. Aelin stood near the overturned stool, her breath measured, her hands empty and eyes, fierce and unyielding, burned with defiance.

 

Across from her, the male watched, his stance loose but ready, his shadows curling around him like living smoke.

 

She had no weapons, but that didn't make her any less dangerous and so she surveyed the male. Shadows curled around his body and enormous leathery wings were tucked tightly behind him. They would limit his movement she hoped. The fire cast an orange glow over him, shining off his leather gear.n

 

Aelin moved first, fast as a whip. She darted toward the window, aiming for escape, but the male was faster. His wings flared, and in a blur of motion, he intercepted her, his body a wall of muscle and shadows. She twisted at the last second, dropping low to slide past him to the door now unguarded, but his shadows lashed out, coiling around her ankle.

 

She yanked her leg free with a sharp kick, breaking the hold. He surged forward, grabbing her wrist before she could react. She fought him instantly, her body twisting, her free hand striking toward his ribs, but he blocked it with ease. She lurched to the side, harsh fabric taught in her hand as she threw herself backwards, legs wrapping around his shoulders and bed sheets making themselves home around his neck. His wings buffeted, the sharp talons topping them tearing into her arms and shoulders. Still she held, pulling with all her might. Firm hands grasped her thighs and she help on tighter. A muffled curse and she was falling, landing on the wooden slats with a resounding thump. She whirled to see him appearing on the opposite side of the room, materialising out of the shadows. Dark red marks covered his neck.

 

As he stepped towards her she knew this wasn't a fight she would win, the realisation sinking deep into her. Dread threatened to pull her under. Still she launched herself at him, throwing her leg out to his exposed wing, the hard muscle rippling with the impact, pivoting she threw her elbow into his side and danced around his responding punch. She just needed to get to the door.

 

She danced to the left, taking a hit to her jaw that sent her teeth singing. So close. Her arm flew out and he blocked it, hand sitting snuggly on her wrist and pulling. She was strong, she knew this but after two days of no sleep, exhaustion pulling at her and her empty magic weighing on her, he was stronger. With a quick pivot, he wrenched her arm behind her back, pulling her flush against him.

 

"Let. Go," she growled, breath hot against his throat. She'd rip his throat out with her teeth.

 

The male only tightened his grip, his shadows swirling up to wrap around her like a second set of bindings. She struggled, thrashing against him, but the more she moved, the more the shadows tightened, their cold embrace curling around her wrists, her waist, pinning her firmly in place. A sharp blow to her temple and darkness claimed her.

Notes:

Okayyyy so hello lovely people! This is what I've been doing while I've been hiding away. I hope it's a leisurely to read as It has been to write. I genuinely feel like I could write this in a week with how much quickly this has fallen together- not too sure what that says about the quality but oh well.

Notes:

A/N- Hello lovelies, before we start I just thought I'd pop on here to introduce myself and give a little disclaimer. So, this is by no means my first published fanfic and definitely not my first written fanfic but this is more of a self indulgent, calming write. I saw a TikTok where the creator was basically saying what if Feyre hadn't killed the wolf and domino effect that would have and my brain ran with it.

This is all to say, canon here is merely a suggestion and not everything will be entirely accurate. I've read all TOG and ACOTAR up until ACOSF (which I will not be reading) and the first of CC. (I have watched video essays on the books I haven't read so I know the basic lore and anything important I will be making as accurate as possible.... but this is fiction so I most likely will be taking creative liberties. Such as will Aelin landing in Pythian- if we stuck to canon and the idea that Feyre wasn't there then Rhys wouldn't be out from under the mountain to help Aelin, she most likely would've continued shooting through the worlds and missing her own. Now in this fic Aelin is stuck in Prythian because otherwise I wouldn't be writing this.

Anyway that was long. I will be making changes but will be sticking as closely as I can to canon (factual wise) to try and make everything make sense but I often get stuck in technical loops (don't get me started on magical theory because I most likely will spend hours debating every detail and nothing will get written). so as this is meant to be a self indulgent fic (something easy I'd want to read and haven't seen much of) if making alterations/ bending canon means I can make the plot work then I will.

Also don't hate me but i'm going to try and make this as accurate to the characters as possible so there will be some criticism of various characters (not bashing) but in my eyes valid criticism. But please keep in mind I don't hate any of the characters before you raise your pitch forks (I get it) and plan to do them justice especially in their best qualities. If you get me? I do this with all my fics- I think it's so important to not blindly love characters- or to love them despite their shortcomings you know and to do that we need to recognise where they fall short and where the authors bias most likely leaks through.

Okay now the disclaimers are out of the way, I hope you'll stay- I promise it'll be fun. Posting schedule will be random but like I said this is meant to be a calming writing experience and I've got most of the plot planned so updates will be a lot quicker than my other fics.

(also, no this isn't Rhys/Aelin but they will have a close bond- i'm thinking Fenrys style and ambiguous on Rhys' side to begin with) that is unless I throw my plot plan out the window and go free style. I also have aesthetics and a whole Pinterest board if anyone wants to see that so let me know.

Lots of love to you all poppets,

Liv