The Savior

The Camp

Acalla P.O.V 

The camp always reeked of blood and mud. And it was never clean. Every male that tramped through the blood and mud also reeked of it. 

 All except for the kitchens. The kitchens were the only spotless thing in that war camp and Acalla Conara was proud of it. 

Being the head cook in the camp made her life extremely difficult. 

Hundreds of sweaty Illyrian men running around in mud made the dining area consistently messy. It didn't please her, but she stayed after for hours cleaning it. With help of course. 

She would stay so late that she would get started on the morning breakfast after finishing. Her brother Myrian would try and help but she would end up sending him home to his bed.

 Unfortunately, his help would be to flirt with one of the kitchen hands and distract them. So his help was more hurt.

That particular night was one that she had stayed after for hours to clean.

The woman had been in this job for 200 years after her mother had died of old age. Acalla had been 50 at the time. Losing her mother so early in life, the kitchen had been her solace for the grief. 

Acalla's mother had been a beauty and had passed her beauty to her son, but not her daughter. Acalla has always been jealous of Myrian's beauty, but she'd gotten her father's work ethic and hair. 

Her father had the most beautiful long hair in the entire Illyrian army. 

She knew her brother envied her long honey gold hair. As it was the most beautiful and unique of the camp. Her brother used to tell her that even General Cassian himself would be jealous. But she had seriously doubted that.

Their father, Glanduil, had been a rough man who believed in the very traditions Acalla hated. 

He had taught Myrian those very same traditions. 

Females should have their wings cut off after their first bleeding. Mates made you weak. Females were inferior to males. Females were to be punished if they did not listen. 

He had been an abusive father. Even before the first war with the humans. But after that war, he had only become worse. 

He died in the war against Hybern. Just a few months after her mother dying. The blow hit Myrian the worst. He had looked up to their father in a way the Acalla never would. Never could. 

She had loved the male but not in the way Myrian had. 

Their mother's death had knocked her off her feet, but life must go on. She had picked up her mother's work in the kitchens. Watching her for so many years had its perks. 

She knew exactly what to do. Her mother used to guide her through the steps while telling her stories. About her childhood. About the way she fell in love with Glanduil. Their marriage. Although they weren't mates. They both believed mates were foolish. They had both tried to teach that to Acalla. 

So the female never thought she would get a mate. If she was honest with herself she didn't really want one. 

But even she had heard the tales of mates. How they couldn't hurt each other. And the female giving food to the males was a sign of acceptance in the mating bond. 

Although she never expected her mate to come to her while she was in a prison cell for an impossible thing. 

Hey beautiful people...this is my first fanfic for Sarah J Maas. Also, I know it's short, the chapters will get longer I promise! I hope we all like it! I know that it may not be the best but it's because nobody can write these books as Queen Maas can! Much love for reading thanks!

So I edited it. I made it a little longer. Made it kind of match up to the rest of the story. Oops. 

Okay, I edited it again. Just little edits to make the story more coherent. Sorry.