A Different Type of Ending

Chapter 15 - Feyre

Feyre

Sion entered the ten only mere seconds after every last trace of Azriel had fully disappeared. My eyes were already trained on the place he appeared between the flaps of the tent as I slowly leant onto the table in the centre of the room. Jurian still looked white as a sheet at the edge of the room, though had trained his face into showing no emotion as he stared at me with an intensity that Sion would only decipher as lust. 
"Am I interrupting anything?" He said carefully, mostly looking at Jurian who refused to look anywhere else in the room except me. 
"Nothing." Jurian replied quickly and succinctly, a slight snap in his voice. Sion raised his eyebrows in question in my direction, and I just shrugged and rolled my eyes, as if that was answer enough. I focused my attention onto the map pinned to the table,
"Report." I snapped at Sion, and as he walked towards the centre of the room he did exactly that.
"The soldiers don't think we're ready for tomorrow, but they're too scared to back out because of what you did earlier." I smirked down at the table, and I could feel both male's eyes on me. "However, the soldier at the other camps won't feel the same as they did not get the pleasure of seeing you spectacle. The aerial le-"
"Wait." I interjected, and when Sion stopped talking he stopped dead still as well. "There are more camps like this?" I looked up to meet his eye as he nodded in response,
"Ten more to be exact."
"And I didn't know this why?" He shrugged,
"I assumed you did."
"How many per camp?"
"The same amount, 15,000 give or take." I let out a deep sigh and my eyes dropped back down to the table again.
"150,000." I simply stated to no one in particular. "What else?" But I wasn't really listening as I lost myself in my thoughts. I had forgotten it was that many, had forgotten what i wold have to face tomorrow. Had forgotten somehow that number might be the downfall of my plans, might lead to my failure, might lead to the death of people that mattered. 
"Which is why I think going straight down the middle of the two courts, in a valley might I add, is not a good idea." He gave me a look, as if expecting me to argue with him, I snarled at him and great claws of shadow dug into the table my hands rested upon. 
"Then what do you suggest Captain?" I said sweetly, a sharp edge to my words. He had the nerve to walk to the table, ignoring the talons that were now planted firmly into it, and point at the two sides of Prythian along the coast of the Autumn and Summer Courts.
"If we split in half and go down either side, we are more likely to encircle them all and be able to plough through them to get to the centre of prythian."
"And why is this any better than my plan?" I asked sharply, retracting the claws for fear I would use them very soon from mere frustration that someone had caught onto the fact my plan was bullshit. Sion shrugged,
"If they catch on and surround us before we can get out, we're screwed." I scoffed,
"Those Courts have barely half the number of soldiers we have collectively, we can't get trapped, it's as simple as that, because they won't be able to contain us." 
"But what if they can? What if we are underestimating them?"
"I can assure you, there is nothing to worry about." I ground out through my teeth.
"I'm not leading my troops into a place they won't come out of." 
"My troops?" I snapped, now meeting his eye across the table, and he visibly blanched, realising his mistake. The talons reappeared and sank deep into the old, decaying wood of the table. Jurian stood straighter, on edge now, and I couldn't tell whether it was to get himself out, or if he was scared I was going to do something I couldn't take back. "You're more like your cousin than I thought." I snapped and Sion scowled.
"I don't associate myself with him anymore." I raised my eyebrows and smirked,
"It seems someone is not too fond of their High Lord, and I going to have to report them for treason?" I said sweetly, which only made him blanch further at the danger hidden in that tone. 
"I would never commit treason against my own cousin."
"That's exactly what Lucien said, but I know what he's really doing. He never truly left his old court." The lie passed through my lips as easily as any truth, the prick deserved it after what had happened in the past week, he deserved every damning sentence that came with. Not only that, but he deserved a chance at a real life without Tamlin, without this damning court. The surprise on Sion's face was exactly what I wanted, and exactly what I expected. "We don't change the plans for tomorrow, and consider that hint a little favour. Use it to get back into your cousin's good graces." Sion opened his mouth to speak, but I lifted a hand to silence him, "If you were already in his good graces, you would have my job." Sion kept opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water as if he wanted to speak.
"Run along now." Jurian said, walking towards the table, the usual snarky swagger now returning to his demeanour. "We march out in one hour." So Sion scurried out of the tent, and started yelling commands at the soldiers, telling them to prepare to move, to prepare to fight. I watched the tent flaps for a minute to ensure no one was going to disturb me and Jurian's conversation, and when I turned back Jurian's attention was already fixed on me, something like confusion in his eyes. I waved a hand to dismiss it,
"Don't act so surprised, Lucien's a liability and likely to be more trouble than it's worth, better to get him out of the way." Jurian narrowed his eyes,
"But that's the thing, you just saved his life didn't you?" I nodded grimly in response. 
"If he doesn't go to battle tomorrow because he is locked in the dungeon for treason, then he won't die when I wipe everyone out."
"Why?"
"Because he's a good man underneath everything."
"You forgive far too easily."
"That's lucky for you then isn't it?" Jurian scoffed, mimicking the same sound I had made earlier, and then grinned like a fiend. 
"Lucky indeed."