My Little Fanfiction Corner | Fanfiction Short Stories

Grand General: Throne of Glass/ACOTAR - A New Home

The light shone high in the sky over the city within the Night Court. A hidden gem within a land of never ending night. Velaris was as beautiful as ever and, though the war seemed to have only just begun, it didn't mean that he couldn't tell of its beauty, even with the destroyed Rainbow which he spied from his bedroom window.

Dorian Havilliard was a refugee from the Spring Court. His heart broken when the King of Hybern's men were made a guest there, and soon the tyrannical king himself. It was a love of this land that made him implore to Tamlin to change his mind, though Tamlin, too, was heartbroken when Feyre had left.

Now Dorian sat in a small apartment, not too far away from where Feyre's sister Nesta lived, but also a rather large home for one person. No, not one person. Several others lived here with family and friends since their homes were destroyed in the brutal attack nearly one year ago. It was a lucky venture that brought him here, anyhow. He called it 'the change of the wind', since the wind had changed, and he followed its direction until he came upon this splendid delight.

The wall was broken! Destroyed. Who manned it now, Dorian wondered as he began to prepare a light breakfast before going out into the city in search of someone familiar. After all, it was the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court who had bade him welcome here, even if he were a fugitive of the Spring Court. Something he dared not talk about unless to Lucien, who often visited unless he were to be away on some mission.

Though, Lucien and Dorian were outcasts, it was obvious that one had found their home, whilst the other was searching for theirs. It seemed Lucien only ever stayed here, sometimes, because of Elain. The poor girl clearly was not ready for such a committed mate. Though Dorian could only observe such things.

Once Dorian had ate, he removed himself from the square living space which he had known as his home for nearly three months now and busied himself with dressing for the winter weather outside, before going out of the door.

Now outside, the biting cold barely left the outdoors before entering the rickety old building in which had become the dwellings of many who lived in Velaris. The velvet coat of snow on the ground already had fresh footprints upon it, many on top, as well. Dorian briskly headed out of the doorway and made his way down the snowy streets. There was a bookshop nearby which he had been meaning to go into but didn't know how welcome he would be within certain areas. Well, it was worth the chance. Maybe no one would know of his heritage and where he is from. He could only hope.

On entering the book shop, a gentle tinkling sound alerted his entrance, but no one bothered to turn at the person who had entered. He knew of his differences to the Fae who lived here, and didn't believe that his kind would be very welcome, so chose to hide beneath the hood of his long woollen coat that covered the snow that he was trailing in, surely melting with each step in.

At the sight of the many books within, shelves upon shelves, with many coloured volumes with beautiful artwork on them, as well as cursive writing on the binding telling of the author and the name of the story held within; Dorian felt as though he were within his own personal heaven. The wonders that he could discover in those books. The worlds he could travel to. It was all a mystery, unless he chose one. But which one?

After much looking and making notes within his own mind of the different books they had, he eventually picked up a red hard back with a beautiful image of an oasis – in full colour – on the front. The golden inscription on the top of the book made it look regal and beautiful. Not that Dorian was a one to judge a book by its cover. With a few flick throughs of the contents inside and an examination of how well made the binding is, he made his way towards the counter, when-

"BOO!" 

Dorian, startled, turned on his heel, his sapphire eyes lighting up at the familiar face of Morrigan. Her blonde hair falling down her body in a tight braid.