(Throne of Glass Fanfiction) The Legends that Lives

Chapter 21: The Funeral

It had been two weeks since the princess of Terrasen had taken her last breath, holding it in as she choked herself out of her own bubble of air until her fingertips started to blue, her throat constricting, until she finally slumped onto the non-existent ground of Erawan's prison. She was at peace with her death.

Yet so many were not.

They had arrived in Terrasen days prior, the court was confused why the queen's flamboyance was suddenly calmed, why her husband's attitude seemed to shift from cooling waves to sharp-edged ice spikes.

Then they heard the news.

The kingdom went silent.

Shops closed. Windows were thrown open, dark flaps of fabric were hauled out. Rivers and streams were suddenly flooded with flat stones, with memorials and grieving words from those who could not attend the exclusive and private funeral. Back at Orythn, however, The servants ushered through the silent hallways, working on preparations as the royal guests kept to themselves. 

The wind was fluttering against the snow-covered, and shedding trees, the spring land surrounding the palace was now a maze of snow, the scenery beautiful in its own way. The night lilies blooming, the jasmine scenting the air, the cold as you trudged forward.

Laurel huffed a breath of air,  it floated in a misty veil before him before dissipating into the dark snow. Terrasen's winters are always treacherous and dangerous, yet it was such a beautiful time. When children run to catch snowflakes, when vendors had seasonal drinks out, when beggars got more than just a second glance.

Yet it was dimmed considerably the moment Aryna's heart stopped beating.

It would also mean his rise to the throne. In sacrificing herself, she'd willingly handed her crown to him, the second in line.

He'd never thought he'd take her place.

Laurel was a scholar, and though he was skilled in the ways of court and dealings, he was not a warrior. Did not have a warrior's mind, he grew up dreaming to travel, and now he shall be confined to a chair. His control over his magic was near-nonexistent, his flames could come out at any moment.

He glanced to his right side, Sierra was walking gracefully through the snow, her thick velvet cloak draped over her flowing green dress, a new addition to her daily attire was a single earring with a dangling water drop shaped jewel hanging from her left ear. The Lady of Perranth by her side, her dark hair concealing her face from his view, but the two ladies stuck together. One might think they may even be courting one another.

The younglings of the court were further back with Lysandra and Aedion, along with the carriages carrying those who did not wish to walk the short distance from the palace to the area they had picked out. The Galathynius family alone. As a family. A family with one missing.

Cayden walked silently by himself, his feet trudging through the snow as though it was air. His usually happy face was shadowed, his eyes distant, his mind in his own world of thoughts. Eyvin was further ahead with the Night Court, who was also at the side of the current kings and queens of the kingdoms. With that Maven.

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"Aryna Ashryver Whitehorn Galathynius," said the priest ", was a beloved princess of the land, the long-awaited heir, the one ascending to the throne. She was a silent one, though her presence was never forgotten. A female of grace and beauty and calculated kindness. Though her words were limited, it shall never be forgotten."

Tears fell onto the cold and rising snow as people laid their stones one by one down by the small monument had been built with white marble, gold inscriptions blazing. The lady of Perranth was crying silently in her husband's arms, who held her tightly, even as his own eyes strayed away from the scene before him.

"To the best of friends," said Sierra Blackbeak Crochan Havilliard, laying down her shimmering dark blue stone, her sapphire eyes glowing.

"To the closest of my drink mates," Eyvin Blackbeak Crochan Havilliard said silently, his own matching stone laying next to his twin's.

"To the most understanding person I know," Rayne Salvaterre Lochan said, her gaze solid but slowly falling.

"To the next queen," Cayden said, his voice firm, as he knelt in the snow ", I shall hope to finally serve you one day when we once again meet."

"To the best sister," Cyrus said proudly, as her hand-carved heart-shaped rock was laid onto the snow.

"To the daughter whom I wish I would have more time with," The queen said, her voice hushed. The king added in a sad ", May your winds blow elsewhere."

"To the female," Arvena started, her own tears long dried on her hooded face, even as she felt the, rising up ", Who I wished to start a life with."

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sO uM-

sOrRy fOr tHe iNaCtIvEnESs

a lot of stress just caught up to me, and then it was my birthday, then I finally got Crescent City: House of Earth and Blood-

yeh