The Prophecy - ACOTAR

Chapter 40 *

"There are different kinds of darkness," Rhys muttered. "There is the darkness that frightens – much like Astrid, the darkness that soothes – the opposite of Astrid, the darkness that is restful – Astrid when she's planning. There Is the darkness of lovers – I'm not relating that to Astrid for... reasons, and the darkness of assassins – our Astrid again. It becomes what the bearer wishes it to be, needs it to be. It is not wholly bad or good. Something you'd do well to remember extends to the owner of each, Feyre."

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Astrid had to find different ways to busy herself over the passing days and weeks. Occasionally she would show up at Feyre's training sessions, observing and commenting about the different activities Cassian had Feyre doing. Each time she went, she would grin as she noticed the tension that creeped in Feyre's muscles. She told herself she did this to help Feyre, that way if she was fighting nervous or worried, the tension she would naturally feel wouldn't hurt her. She would be able to keep control of her stance and weapons regardless of anything going on around her.

But it also helped push her plan along, helped her continue to get into Feyre's head. Keep her looking around every corner for whatever Astrid had planned next.

Occasionally, Astrid would challenge Cassian to a fight, normally when Az was away for longer than a night. She worked her worry out in the fighting ring, and it seemed to help her drain those pesky emotions. It helped to see how capable Cassian was fighting against her, because Cassian and Az had the same training, and if Cassian could keep up with her, then Az could handle himself against the weak humans.

It had startled her a bit when she would think of humans in such a way, It was uncomfortably close to how she had been taught to think of them when she grew up in Hybern. She had to continually correct trains of thoughts like that, she knew the humans were more capable than many fae thought they were. She knew firsthand from growing up with the Archerons, from helping Feyre hunt, that they could find creative ways to overcome their weaknesses.

When Az would return from his work in the mortal realm, he would be distant and cold, even to Astrid. His frustration from not being able to do his job as Spymaster causing a wall between them. But Astrid had never been one to shy away from a wall, she loved to scale them or find ways to blow them up, and that's exactly what she would do with this one. Astrid is and will always be, a persistent female, something that Az showed his appreciation for every time she would pester him.

Some days she would stare at him till he snapped at her, her only response being a grin as she continued to stare at him. Eventually he would break down and talk with her about the trip and they would work together to form a plan for his next outing followed by a very intense make out session.

Other days she would poke him repeatedly until he couldn't help but smile. Her other technique was tackling him and licking his face. Each time ended in planning then kissing. It was a ritual for them, one they both loved even when he would snap at her.

On the days she wasn't crashing Cassian and Feyre's training session or bringing Az back from his brooding, she would disappear with Wren and Camryn. They worked on finding different places to put sticks for Feyre to find. One of her favorite places was to hide sticks with the weapons she knew Cassian planned for Feyre to use the next day, which would normally end in Feyre yelling.

After training Feyre, Cassian would normally seek out the trio, helping them plan the final part of Astrid's master plan. He would normally help gather sap to help affix the sticks to each other. While they were creating Astrid's stick monster, the pair would then strategize about the best place for this plan to finish.

Sometimes, Astrid would disappear entirely, not even Wren and Camryn were able to find her on those days. It was a mystery to everyone what she was doing for a while, until one evening when Cass had come for dinner at the townhouse, which was made over a bonfire out back, curtesy of the last pile of sticks. Astrid had grinned innocently when Cass gave them an update from the Illyrian war camps. Az's father and stepbrothers had fallen into expertly hidden traps, that were conveniently made out of sticks.