To the Stars | Throne of Glass

31

Celaena grinned, and sketched a bow to the beautiful boy standing before her. 'You must be Archer,' she purred. Lysandra hadn't been lying when she'd said he was gorgeous. It was not an understatement, nor an overstatement - just simply the truth. There was no other way to describe him.

There was his golden, sun-kissed skin, and green eyes, though not as deep as Lysandra's, they flickered an alluring emerald. And his mouth. It was simply divine. Celaena couldn't understand how pulchritudinous one could be. It took a great amount of will for Celaena not to just finger those full, pink lips, and perhaps taste them with her own.

A mischievous light shone in his eyes that rivalled Celaena's own, though she doubted that his sense of humour was the same as hers. Archer was a shameless flirt; he'd winked at her an ungodly amount in the past minute. She had winked back too, but... she hoped that Archer wouldn't ever see the fun side of her.

His handsome jaw twitched as he smiled, and dipped his head. 'Indeed. It's a pleasure to meet you-' He stopped, and frowned. 'How bad of me. I didn't even ask your name. That was phrased badly,' he added, as a way of apology.

Celaena rolled her eyes. 'Do I look like I care? My name's Dianna Brackyn.'

Archer blinked. 'Arobynn's niece.' She saw him steal a glance to Arobynn, to note his silver eyes and auburn hair, then her own turquoise gaze and golden locks.

He frowned again, but before he could open his mouth, she cut him off. 'Yes, yes, you don't believe us, but I mean, if I were you, I wouldn't either.'

Archer's suspicious look disappeared, and was replaced with a charming smile. 'Right.' He waved his hand. 'So...' Celaena looked at the large sitting room in the Keep, now transformed into a small ballroom for Clarisse and her... courtesans. This was the third party in one week, and Celaena was bored to death. Though... she may take a few more trips to the buffet table. 'So. Small talk.' Though she had a brazen attitude, Celaena wasn't dull in the slightest. She was educated as much as she was trained, to her surprise (and eventually, annoyance).

Archer tapped his fingers against the wall they had retired to. 'Well.'

'How old are you?' She asked.

Archer glanced at her. 'Didn't anyone tell you it's rude to ask?'

Celaena shrugged. 'No.' He sighed, and ran a hand through his styled hair. 'I'm eleven,' she said.

'Really?' Surprise slid over his face. 'You look older than that.'

She looked up at him. 'Really?' Incredulous, she looked at the height difference between them. She only came up to his shoulders. Archer was as tall as Ben, she noted. He grinned. 'On second thoughts, no. That was me being polite.'

Celaena refrained the urge to punch him and slumped against the wall. 'What brings you to this bore of a party?'

Archer licked his lips, and Celaena found it immensely difficult not to look away. He turned, and began to play with a strand of her hair. 'Oh, I don't know. Maybe,' he bent down to peer at her, 'you.' His minty breath filled her nostrils and Celaena leaned into the fragrance-

Common Sense gave a sharp tug on her head, and she stumbled backwards slightly. What was wrong with her? Two minutes with a boy and she was lightheaded already. Celaena pulled away in a hurry and made an exit for the hall. Archer tried to grab her arm but she neatly sidestepped without looking back. 'Wait!'

Celaena cursed the inconvenience of the dress, and ran to her room. But Archer was fast. She would have been faster if it weren't for the masses of fabric pooling around her feet. His breathless pants reached her and she rose an eyebrow. 'That was barely a run,' she remarked.

Archer rubbed his neck. 'Looks can be deceiving,' he offered.

'I can see that,' Celaena scoffed. 'You should join the Keep for a while. Though I doubt a courtesan like you could keep up for long.'

Archer grinned, taking no offense to her riling comment. 'That, in fact, I am going to do.'

Celaena blinked. 'What?'

'It's pardon me, but yes. Clarisse and Arobynn organised my stay here for... a year?'

'Oh.'

'You sound disappointed.'

'No!' Celaena fumbled for the right words. Never had she stuttered like this before. What was wrong with her? She sighed. 'I just need to get out of this.' She gestured to the dress. Not that she didn't like it, but, 'I can't breathe.'

'Will Arobynn mind?'

'No. I'll be on the roof, if you want.'

Archer bit his lip, and Celaena automatically mirrored the movement. 'Okay.' She gave Archer's lips a quick glance before hurrying up the stairs.

~

She didn't see Archer on the roof. Celaena felt immensely foolish for hoping. Hoping that she could just have some company. 'You didn't tell me the way to the roof,' a voice called, both accusing and amused. Celaena whirled, and peered over the gutter. Archer spoke to her with wide eyes, head sticking out of the open window a few feet below her. Celaena blushed. 'Sorry. There isn't.'

'How did you get up there then?'

She stuck out her tongue. 'You climb.'

Archer frowned at his tailored suit. 'Um.'

Celaena sighed, and sprang off the roof. A quick manoeuver, and she was perched on the windowsill. Archer's astonished gaze followed her as she twisted to face him, gripping the window head. She crouched on her haunches to view the elegant panes of his face. 'I'm here.'

Archer rubbed his eyes. Celaena swung into the hallway, and turned to face him. Her palms were so calloused that she didn't bother to brush the sharp specks of stone from them. 'You look like a fish.' He shut his mouth, but his verdant eyes remained wide. She crossed her arms. 'You still haven't answered my question from earlier. How old are you?'

He wet his lips, and Celaena's eyes zeroed onto them like a hawk. Common Sense smacked her, and Celaena winced involuntarily. After giving her a curious look, he replied, 'Eighteen.' (A/N: This is true; in Crown of Midnight, Celaena was 18 and Archer was 25, so they (most likely) have a seven-year age gap between them.) 'Dressed like that,' he added, 'you honestly look fifteen.'

Celaena, clad in black from head to toe, sketched a bow. She had freed her hair from its tight arrangement from earlier, and it fell in front of her face as she dipped her head. She blew the strands away as she straightened. 'Why, thank you.'

Archer flashed a crooked smile. Celaena bared her teeth in return. 'Well, it's getting late now,' Celaena said shoving her hands into the pockets of her pants. She glanced at the sky, darkened and patched with purples and deep blues. Faint stars were splattered across the horizon, and Celaena immediately searched for the Lord of the North, the White Stag. Her mother had told her that no matter the season, he would be there. A guide to home, to Terrasen.

Archer followed her gaze, curious. 'Do you see him?' Celaena asked quietly. Archer's forehead creased. 'Pardon?'

Celaena blinked rapidly. 'What?' Archer stared at her. 'What?' she repeated. He shrugged. 'Never mind. It is getting late now. I'll see you soon.' Then, before she could pull away, he pecked her lightly on the forehead.

The touch lasted only for a split second, but Celaena's body tingled with fervency. 'Soon.' She replied. Archer gave her one last look as he turned away, but Celaena's attention was already diverted.

The moonlight bathed her face, illuminating her with streaks of silver as she looked up.

Gazing at the stars.