Burning Wildfires (Abandoned)

~6~

Asterin sat in stunned silence, as her leader finished her story. It seemed unbelievable, yet it made so much sense. Why the Blackbeak Matron had drilled a hatred of Crochans deeper into Manon, training her harder than anyone else.  The rest of the thirteen were in a similar state of shock.
Tears, something she had never seen on Manon, were lining her eyes, once she finished her tale and Asterin was moving before she could stop herself. She hugged her cousin, who took a moment to compose herself before looking back at her Thirteen.

They were understandably still silent. The silence went on, until Sorrel spoke up, the rock of their group. "So you are both a Crochan and a Irontooth? A queen as well? And the future is shit?"
Manon slowly nodded. Ghislane spoke up, "To sum it up, we have a lot to do." 
The Witch Queen looked surprised. "You believe me?"
"What is there not to believe?" was Asterin's answer. 
None of them were good at talking about emotions, they were raised for battle, but their bond was so deep, that there were no words needed. The silence said it all. 

Manon smiled. A true smile. Jumping up from her cousin's arms, she started handing out orders. They did have a lot of work to do after all. 

~ 

It was nightfall in Rifthold, and in Aelin's room, she was dressed in some tunics and pants she found in her closet. Sliding back the tapestry, she made sure no one was watching when she slid in, keeping the door a hairs breadth open. Hurrying down the steps, she reached Elena's tomb, the meeting place which Dorian had stated in his letter and arrived in record time. 

The Terrasen queen was not surprised to see a raven-haired prince waiting there already, ever the punctual. She could see his dusty footsteps that came from the direction of one of the other passageway entrances in the palace. 

Mort was there, silent and still and she chuckled. "Hello Mort, you are unusually silent." The sentient knocker came alive with a yelp, Dorian turning around at the same time. "I knew you would come here, but not this soon.", Mort grumbled.
"I would have thought Elena would have filled you in.", Aelin teased.
Dorian chuckled as Mort huffed and went silent.
Turing to the prince, they just stared at each other before running at the other and hugging like their life depended on it.
After breathing in Dorian's scent, which was leather and old pages, with an undercurrent of power, she let go and went inside the tomb, the raw magic wielder following a second later.

The tomb was still as magical as she remembered it, even though it was dark and forgotten, a single beam of moonlight falling on the sarcophaguses, Damaris lying on Gavin's. Dorian hesitantly reached out a longing hand towards it, before pulling back. Glancing down, she saw that the sky and earth were still reversed. Her companion was kneeling next to Elena's tomb, much like she had done the first time, his pale hand tracing the anagram written on the plaque.
Ah! Time's Rift!

"What does this mean?", he quietly murmured. Aelin suddenly smirked. "It's an anagram. Can you figure it out?" She leaned against the earthy wall, and watched as Dorian's face scrunched up in concentration, lips forming silent words. "Is it 'I am the First'?" Her jaw dropped and Mort's snickering could be heard, along with a mechanical "Oh, I like him!"
"How did you-"
"By re-arranging the words, obviously.", he answered sarcasm lacing his voice. Aelin flicked him on his forehead. 

"So, you asked to meet here. About what?" He stared at her incredulously. "Aelin, we just travelled from a future battle to our past. What else would I ask you here for?"
She twirled a lock of her golden hair. "Oh I don't know. A discussion about the books?"
He shook his head, grinning, before adopting a more serious expression. 
"I think you should tell Nehemia. When she arrives here, that is."
The young queen went very still, images of the Eyllwe princess's broken body running unbidden through her head. Silver lined her eyes, and Dorian was beside her in an instant, arms encircling her as she went through her anxiety attack, memories of the future running through her head.

When she calmed down, she simply whispered  'okay'. They both knew that Nehemia did not need to die this time, and at this realization, Aelin smiled. 
They went back to their positions from before. 
"Don't tell Chaol right now." When Dorian moved to protest, she silenced him with a glare. "He will be high strung with the Champion's murders and he's on edge with me here, as well as your supposedly developing feelings for Celaena." That shut down his protests.
"We also need to get into contact with Manon and Rowan.", she smiled at the thought of her mate, Dorian doing the same, however he shook his head. "Rowan's in Doranelle. If I know Manon, if she remembers, she has most likely already started rounding up the Crochans, we won't be able to get into touch with her for a while."

Aelin's face dropped, when she realized he was right. She shook her head again, thoughts of Rowan vanishing as she focused on something else.
"Your magic? Can you feel it?"
The Crown Prince frowned. "Not exactly. I can feel it faintly, if I go deeper, but I can't bring it to the surface. It like there is a barrier, preventing it, caging it. Nehemia did something, on one of my father's parties, that caused it to awaken."
She sighed. "Keep trying. Now about the Champions murders, I figured out what caused them."
This time, Dorian's jaw dropped. "You figured it out? It had been driving Chaol crazy for weeks
before I talked him out of it!"
Aelin laughed. "Sounds like him."
Dorian stared at Aelin intently, like a child begging for a story. "Tell me what happened."

After her explanation was done, the prince was quiet, his face pensive. "You will not face the ridderak alone. You don't have to do everything by yourself again. You have me. This is not up for argument."
Aelin swallowed. "Alright."

"I met Sorscha today.", Dorian stared at his feet, not saying anything. The queen stared at him.
"Are you alright?", the young prince looked up. "Yes, it was hard, but I accepted it and have moved on. It was still hard though." 
Aelin simply nodded. 

They continued for the rest of the night, planning and exchanging stories, under the watchful eyes of the moon.

~

Dorian had returned to his tower and instantly fallen asleep, content from his talk with Aelin in the old tomb. He woke up at the tomb again, this time with a familiar king at standing at the corner. 
"King Gavin?", he asked, sleep still present in his voice.
"You are not from this time. Elena is speaking with the Heir of Fire, however I am here to speak to you. I do not have much time, so listen closely. Keep a close eye on Galathynius, she faces a more dangers now, and you can still lose her forever. Choose wisely." his voice then changed, became a tone softer. "Use Damaris, child, you will need it, now more than ever."
Before the raven-haired prince could even speak, he was flung back into his tower, wide awake in his bed.
Next to him was a warm handle. Pulling back the covers, moonlight fell onto the glittering blade of the truth sword, and Dorian was sure it was not a dream. He fell back onto his pillow, and spent the rest of the night studying the blade and pondering over Gavin's words.