The Court Going to Camp Half-Blood

Chapter One

This is a story inspired by @LynnieGalaxyt and their story "To Whatever End, Seaweed Brain."

When the world used to be bathed in flames, there was nothing now. The world ended when the flames did, she was trapped. There was nothing anymore, she was empty. She was trapped inside herself, unable to get out. The gods are gone, Mala is gone, she is alone. The world was suffocating, but endless. It went on forever, but she couldn't move. The light went out and she was trapped in infinite blackness. 

She screamed. No one answered. Except - that voice. The voice of her dreams, the smell of pine and snow. She was not alone. "Aelin," the voice said again, but it was losing context. Who was Aelin, who was the voice. "Aelin. You are Aelin. I am Rowan. Remember who you are." She is Aelin. The voice is Rowan. The flames started up again, but not the burning inferno they were before, but a calm and cool bonfire, for roasting marshmallows not people. "Open your eyes, Aelin."

She did.

The world was bright and dim, the lights blinding, but the fire gone. The fire was gone. Only cool air remained, but - no. There was the fire. Inside her. It was still there. She controlled it, not the other way around. She was Aelin, the voice was Rowan, and she controlled the fire.

So Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius groaned and rolled on top of her mate. "I thought this would end when I gave up the inferno for the lock."

"No, Fireheart. It is not. Obviously."

"Wow," she said, jabbing her mate in the ribs before going in for a kiss on the lips. Then she remembered herself. "Did I - Did I hurt-"

"No. You hurt nothing and no one. Other than your clothes."

She looked down. Indeed, her flimsy blue nightgown that had once driven Rowan crazy was now burnt, and hanging in tatters around her. But it seemed to still be driving Rowan crazy.

"I believe it's still fulfilling its purpose."

"Oh yeah? And what might that be?" Rowan asked, flipping her over so he lay on top of her.

"Making you insane of course."

"Ah, so it does." He said, moving his mouth to hers. That - that whisper of a touch - was all she needed. The world could be the endless blackness, but she would be okay as long as she had Rowan. Her arms wrapped around his back and she dug her nails into his skin. But she remembered herself enough to say,

"We promised we would have breakfast on time today."

"We can wait five minutes," he said, moving his mouth down to her throat. She moaned.

"Ten."

* * *

In the end, they did not make breakfast on time. They were twenty minutes late. Lysandra was wiggling he eyebrows, and Aedion looked pissy. Lorcan looked annoyed and Elide just shrugged. Aedion though. He was really pissy. 

"Territorial nonsense," Aelin said as she walked by him, ruffling his hair. He scowled and swatted her hair away, but looked happy when the food was uncovered.

It made Aelin's mouth water. Oh, look at those strawberry tarts (Maxerica anyone?) and the chocolate hazelnut donuts. No cake for breakfast, Rowan said. Well, unfortunately for Rowan, there was no meat on a stick on the table. Aelin told Sellene about him saying his favorite food is the meat on the stick from the street vendor in Doranelle, and the two teased him about it constantly. Sellene and Aelin, the Faerie Queens of the East and West. A formidable duo in annoying grouchy immortal Fae warriors.

And planing weddings, apparently. Sellene wanted to plan the wedding for Rowan and Aelin, but Aelin was wary, so she said she could try it out on Lysandra and Aedion. It was gorgeous. So of course they got her to plan their ceremony, really stabilizing the "we're married" thing so that they're not just married because of signed pieces of paper and a random ship captain. But then Manon and Dorian saw their wedding, and well they are getting married next week. No one is actually sure who proposed.