Heir of Obsidian (A Throne of Glass Fanfic)

8 - Trouble

Benji knew he looked a mess. While yesterday he had trudged into the dining room for a rather late breakfast with his usual morning fatigue, today he felt barely conscious. He'd tossed and turned all night, finally giving up on the hopeless possibility of sleep and had risen for what he knew would be a shockingly early start to another dreary day. His only hope was that he would beat his sister to breakfast, and be able to shovel enough food, quickly enough, into his near-comatose form to escape her presence entirely.

He was looking down at his feet through constantly closing eyes, his ears strangely quiet. The sounds of the castle were dulled and pairs of feet striding past him were few and far between. He struggled to think through the fuzzy haze in his mind. Just how early was it?

He raised his head, squinting his eyes at the glare coming through one of the windows that lined the hallway. It was open to the early spring mists, that, at dawn, still weighed heavily on the hills. He took a deep breath, taking solace at the dense clouds' familiar, swirling touch. He dragged his feet past the sprawling view, catching sight of himself in an ornate mirror hanging on the same wall just ahead.

After a pathetic and brief battle with himself, he abandoned the pretence of any self-respect and looked at what he knew would be a prince in shambles staring back at him. He was not disappointed. His hair was sticking out at the completely wrong angle on one side, his shirt was on backwards and his shoulders seemed to be permanently stuck at different heights due to a crick in his neck. Even he cringed at his outfit; it looked like he'd dressed drunk, in the dark. It wasn't that far from the truth. He was drunk, drunk on failure.

He slumped and continued into the dining room, wrestling half-heartedly with his shirt before giving up entirely. He made his way through the high-ceilinged room towards the oak table at its centre, looking up in premonition.

His sister, thank wyrd, wasn't there. In fact, the table was abandoned of any Whitethorn-Galathynius. He sat down in relief and immediately poured himself some tea. Cradling the hot mug in his stiff hands he stooped over its calming herbal scent. He looked up to find a table full of platters befitting the families' normal breakfast. His thoughts slowly caught up with the situation and he surveyed the table in bizarre question. It was too far too early for the royal family to have even woken, so why was the table set for breakfast...

He looked up the table and tilted his head in an attempt to relieve the uncomfortable ache in his neck, unintentionally meeting the golden eyes of a fierce white-haired figure draped in a blood-red cloak. He jumped in surprise and tea splashed onto his pants. He hissed. She was alert, watching him stoically, making her way through the vast meal set before her. Occasionally sharp iron nails would peek out from beneath her fingertips as she ate. Benji paled as he looked into the sharp and calculating eyes of Manon Blackbeak.

Panic was slow on the uptake and he took a sip from his tea almost subconsciously. He slurped nervously, his tired brain catching up and sending him into the borderline panic he should have been feeling for the past ten minutes he had been in her presence. He blinked mindlessly at her, his brain trying to interpret the image before him. How the hell did he manage to walk into the throne room without noticing that the most powerful witch was seated at their table? In the seat next to him?!

He gulped his tea, burning his tongue. The letter. She must be here for Aelin - and Aelin hadn't gotten the letter. S***. Manon smiled as if she knew, finishing her mouthful calmly. He shrunk down in his seat.

Benji had seen Manon on rare encounters throughout the years. He knew that her 'spontaneous' visits to see her daughter or take her from Adarlan or the Wastes to Terresan had a darker meaning and had gleaned that her travelling was not just a hobby. It extended far beyond her trips with Asterin to teach her the ways of the witches and rulers world. He now realised that the dire meaning of the word 'TROUBLE' had been lost on him, but was likely a good indicator of the kind of work her travels led to. He jumped again, pulled from his thoughts by her voice cutting through the silence of the room.