DISCONTINUED A Court of Blood and Night Rewritten

Aelin

I apologize for not updating sooner. I forgot.

They had shoved her back into the coffin again, and the iron burned her wounds. The ones from the beginning refused to heal completely. The new ones would continue to leak blood for days. Many would grow infected and she would get sick again.

She'd gotten a better grasp on time, on just how long she'd been away. Months. For months she'd been trapped here in this iron box. For months, she'd been separated from her court and her mate.

The only reason there was any passage of time was because they took her out every day to feed her and baby her. Every fifth day, they'd beat and scar her again. And then they'd go right back to babying. A cruel tactic meant to break someone. Do what they ask and she'd never have to face the pain again. Continue to defy and things would stay ugly.

Sometimes Maeve allowed Fenrys to help her. Feed her or dress her wounds. Other times, in punishment, she'd make him hurt her instead of Cairn. Because he wasn't loyal to Maeve. He was loyal to Aelin. And they all knew it.

If Aelin had been able to heal properly, the scars would have been brutal. But now, if she was ever able to heal again, the scars that would be left... She didn't want to imagine it.

She felt everyone moving again as they prepared to leave. Maeve never stayed in one place for long. It was too dangerous. She wished her captor was dumber.

Aelin wanted to scream and fight the confinements of the coffin. She wanted to break free and kill her aunt and run back to Terrasen before they got any further away.

But she couldn't. Not yet. Not until it was time.

Aelin clutched a tiny piece of paper in her hand-- her lifeline, now. The paper Fenrys had given her a month ago when Maeve had been distracted. Her way out-- if she could be patient.

She had to be patient.

So she lay still in that coffin, wounds screaming, clutching that paper so tightly that her fingers cramped.

And she waited.