Crossing Paths

18

~ Minor Adjustments were made, re-read if you wish~

Maven's POV
Throughout the ceremony to celebrate Dorian and Celaena's engagement I stayed in my room, not wanting or needing to witness Dorian vow his life to her. It is just not something I can handle without incinerating everything.
I stared down at my hands, my irises gazing upon the tips of my fingers, holding in the destruction that will play out if I saw her standing there instead of-well, instead of me.

No matter the circumstances. My heart should not have to witness that.

I sighed and continued to sift through my drawers. Unable to feel what I wished, I leant forward in order to have a better chance. My hands touched the paper and then I pulled it out. Shutting the wood drawer afterward with a dull thud, I looked down at the letter that was written to me.

My Son,

I now realize that sending you away without so much as a proper explanation is unfair. Though that does not make it any less unnecessary with what the King Of Adarlan requests of you. Do not fret, Maven, you are in good hands. By the fluidity of the penmanship I know without thinking that it is my mother who is writing to me. So my confusion to her attitude is quite understandable, I must say.

If you thought otherwise, well, perhaps some fresh air will do you good. You are our son, so to think anything but is absurd. What? My mother, through the years, made it exceptionally clear that we were less than family, less than acquaintances even. With the long moments of quarreling for what now I can see was petty, and for the hate-filled glares when that built up anger was kept in the dark.
I stopped reading. She seems nothing but genuine. Had my entire life been a lie? I swallowed, gripping the paper with careful fingers. This may as well be my only evidence of my mother having a heart. Does she finally wish to reconcile with one of her two sons?

Or was there another motive to be thought of?

Calming my breathing, my glance came down. I read on.
It has come to my attention that The Crown Prince-
I opened the drawer and pushed the paper as far deep into hiding as I could manage. No. She is not involving Dorian in what can only be assumed as one of her torture tactics.
A simple letter, torture? Yes, because now I am sitting on the floor thinking of my beloved; worrying for him and wanting to keep him away from whatever this madness with my mother and The King of Adarlan is. I got off of the floor, dusting my pant leg though I knew no dirt of any kind resided there.

Even without the bastard from Malayne informing me of the King's wild quest for power, I knew quite well what my staying in this castle can very well mean. I am leverage, in the King's eyes. I have to be, otherwise why send word of needing my company as hastily as possible, and then to not inform me of that necessity upon my arrival?
I am not ignorant, after all. I am not an object to toy with and manipulate.
I set an arm on my bed and sat at the edge. I now have a terrible headache and feel dizzy. The throbbing pain continuing, I sighed.

It is times such as this where I need my brother by my side. Dorian will have to quench this ache.

I scooted farther onto my bed. Once my head hit that of the pillow, I felt nothing but calm within this storm.

-------1 hour and 20 min. later--------

"Maven." I shifted, noting how I was being shook. I touched the hand upon my shoulder, my eyes still closed. Warm and rugged, but strong.
"My love, is that you?" Without waiting for an answer, I rolled over and met the surge of blue. So strikingly beautiful, familiar, that it made my heart pound.
But other than that vast blue-the safety in the madness-he looks as if he's just come from battle.
Not physically, no. But emotionally. He looks worn, and beaten. Like he never knew a moment's peace.
"Dorian." I murmured as my thumb rubbed the back of his hand.