(Throne of Glass Fanfiction) The Legends that Lives

Chapter 11: Maven

"Is there anything you can do?" Dorian asked, hope burning within him that the infamous night court would have some sort of knowledge over such things.

Rhysand made a show of contemplating before asking slowly ", You haven't tried to burn it?"

"We tried," Aelin said ", Except we never got close enough to see."

"Can't you just break the mirror?" Cassian said ", And Erawan along with him it?"

"We can," Manon said coldly ", And we would if we could."

Feyre cocked her head ", And what do you mean by that?"

"A witch mirror cannot be broken easily, especially one built specifically to house such a being," Elide explained, her eyes meeting no one's as she said ", we need a sacrifice."

Silence fell upon the room, brisk and tense. The High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court refusing to meet anyone's eyes, a mental conversation going between them. Feyre then asked slowly, drawing the syllables out ", What type of sacrifice?"

"Why don't you tell us?" Manon asked back coolly.

The High Lady's mouth pursed. Nesta looked between them before sharply asking ", Is there something you have not to tell me?"

Feyre sucked it a breath ", The sacrifice is the life of a magic-user."

"So?" 

"We will not," Lysandra started ", End someone's life without their consent."

"It's for the better of the world."

"Can't we just ask them to volunteer?" Elain offered.

"We would," Aelin drawled "if we could find someone as powerful as me or Dorian within the span of two weeks."

"What are you implying?"

Aelin looked straight into their eyes as she said ", Erawan will break free within the span of two weeks. We need to find a solution now."

-

Maven didn't know how to feel.

The mating bond was a beautiful thing, he was sure, especially when he grew up with mated parents. Their happiness was contagious, the way they moved in sync, how they knew when to take breaks, and keep a clear atmosphere.

He had always wished for one, for someone to love him the way his father loved his mother, to have someone be at his side when he both need and don't need it. But he never would have imagined to meet them this way.

With them slamming the door at even the prospect of even acknowledging it.

That bond.

The male witch had slammed the door at that sacred bond that could potentially tie them together forever. Maven tried to shut the anxiety that threatened to overcome him in every stressful situation. 

He often had those too. Sessions of constant twitching and tears and spasms, while memories and taunting words float about in his head, as he tried desperately to shove them back into a dark corner never to immerge again.

So he strolled about the castle, finding his way to his other half. Eyvin had left a trail, very evident since it was fresh, it was a comforting scent, of cool mist and warm fuzziness of a recent dream.

He walked past shimmering walls and marble pillars and crystal until he reached an arched opening that reached out into a sprawling winter garden of snow sprinkled red roses and dangling vines. 

He spied the crowned prince sitting under a tall and densely packed tree, his legs crossed as he stared blankly at nothing. He was beautiful, Maven will admit, with his snow-white wavy hair and contrasting sapphire eyes, he was a prince of the snow.

The crowned prince looked at him, dead in the eye, as he neared. Maven raised a hand in greeting, Eyvin only looked away, staying silent.

"Hello, prince," Maven said gently.

With a shudder the witch prince raised his deep sapphire eyes towards Maven's violet ones, stunning him at the depth of those eyes especially as he murmured back a reply ", Hello, Maven."

They stood in silence as Maven simply watched the prince with a cocked head, before sitting down next to Eyvin, who tensed up immediately as their shoulders bumped, Maven's clad in dark supple fabric and Eyvin's covered in a white blouse.

"Why did you run off?"

There was a beat of silence that seemed to drag on, making Maven think that he'd probably won't answer. Surprisingly, the prince shivered, and said under his breath ", You sound nearly identical to him."

Maven blinked and cocked his head.

Eyvin flinched ", Yet you're so different."

"To who?"

Instead the prince closed his eyes and breathed in a sigh, his fingers fluttering upwards as his brows pushed towards each other ", Your voice, it is that of a butterfly's wingbeat, hushed but dragged out, as though you were singing. A cruel and dark yet such a beautiful song."

And as the prince opened his eyes, thick white lashes fluttering, the sapphire depthless, Maven knew that the Eyvin was in a very dark and twisted part of his life.

And whether Eyvin would want it or not, he'd guide the prince out of that abyss.

-

sksksksksk 

Thoughts on the chapter?

I somehow made Eyvin into a poet, but he was a notorious flirt so....

Remind you of anyone? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

P.S Maven is more of a Feyre than a Rhysand and he can be if he wanted to just so you know