Heirs of the Gods

Ch 50: Áine

Warnings for mentions of violence, death and depictions of scarring.

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Ella waited patiently in her stool, watching as Aedion paced like a caged lion, pushing a hand through his dark mop of hair.

He was usually so composed, so in control. Right then, that facade had crumbled to reveal what was inside. Unease. Nerves. A jarring lack of control.

She twisted her hands in her lap to keep from reaching out to him. She wanted to hold onto him, soothe him. But she understood he needed to do it on his terms. He needed to ease himself into it; she could only listen and give him that space.

Letting out a final exhale, he leaned his elbows on the worktable beside her and finally looked up. "Do you remember when we went to Alder Park that first time, and I told you why I'd left Ardowen?"

A traitorous court. Backstabbing families. Unchecked, bloodthirsty ambition. A fight with brothers.

"In Ardowen, the heir to the throne isn't defined by birth order, like other courts. It can be, but usually, it's by the strongest heir. Male, there are no queens in Ardowen. This leads to a very competitive, hostile environment, as you would imagine. I've got five brothers, I'm the second born. It was a lovely place," Aedion muttered dryly, looking down at the worn wooden tabletop with a grimace.

"When I came into my powers, they were different. Stronger. They only intensified the older I got. Soon, it was clear that my power was greater than my brothers'. They soon became very... threatened. Especially my eldest brother, Ciaran. I never had any intentions to make any claims to the throne, mind you. I was quite content to just let them hash it out, I never wanted any part in it."

"But they weren't going to take chances," Ella whispered, her blood running cold.

Power struggles were always evident in royalty. Even when there was a clear line of succession. She couldn't imagine the chaos it would be if the throne was up for grabs for any brother that managed to prove himself strongest. The kind of violence that would sow. And Aedion... with his mastery of fire and his aura of unbridled power... he would have been a prime target. An obstacle to his ambitious brothers.

Aedion nodded somberly. "I never understood. Still don't, even years later. I never participated in their power struggles, I always kept away from it. I didn't even have the retinue of powerful courtiers they maintained. My only friends were always Valren and Blaise. I kept to my own, I just wanted to be left alone to read and paint." He laughed humourlessly, and Ella's heart twisted.

She could picture him. A young, raven-haired boy. Moody and withdrawn. A little jaded and too clever for his own good. Hungry for more than what was offered to him. Different than those around him, enough to stick out in a bad way, enough to feel alone often.

She'd seen flashes of that boy. In the curiosity and insightfulness in his golden gaze as he observed everything, drinking in the details, noticing every single meaning. When he flushed when his art was praised or the soft smiles when he was congratulated. In his devout attentiveness to Blaise and Valren when they spoke. In the way he always had the right words, because he never judged and always saw more than what met the eye. In how deeply he felt everything.

In this home. Full of life and warmth. Safety. A reflection of who he was inside.

It dawned on her that Aedion had been forced to put on that mask. That of the cool-tempered, arrogant High Chancellor. The insolent Princeling fallen from grace for being too powerful. The one who was cruel, and calculating, and absolutely ruthless.

She understood that, deep to her bones.

"There's this myth between the Elven nobles," Aedion said, staring at his hands. Artist hands, blackened at the tips as if he'd been drawing with charcoal for hours. "They say that those with animalistic markings are more powerful. They've been selected by the Gods to have more strength and leadership. It's a load of rubbish, if you ask me. Everyone knows they come up sporadically. It's just like anything else, hair colour, eyes. It doesn't mean anything.