Immortals Chapter 5
Hello lovely people! Here is chapter five of Immortals! I hope you enjoy!
Rowan Whitethorn had decided that the Queen of Terrasen was one of the most infuriating females he had ever had the chance to meet. He could never get a straight answer out of her, and she led them in circles with quick wit and sly comments. Never, in his three hundred years has he ever met someone who could get under his skin that easily. His carefully crafted mask had cracked more than a couple of times during that meeting, and he had no intentions of letting it do so again.
The queen and Fenrys had hit it off almost immediately, throwing lewd comments back and forth until Rowan and Lysandra shared looks of ‘oh gods, there’s two of them’ and reminded them of the task at hand.
Despite himself, he found himself rather inclined to like the shifter, who’s dry humour matched his own, and who’s quick wit and sharp tongue kept them all on their toes.
After two hours of talking, he and Fenrys had still not been able to get an answer about why they were in Doranelle, but had somehow left thinking they had everything they needed. Now, blinking in the sunlight, he stood beside Fenrys, his anger simmering, magic on edge and very, very frustrated.
Fenrys himself looked almost starstruck, a small smile on his face.
“Well,” Fenrys started, “She’s nice.”
Rowan rolled his eyes, the male was obviously half in love with her already. He had to admit, she was attractive. Beautiful, even. With an allure that would draw anybody in she wished. And her eyes. Oceans of flames and embers that would ensnare-
Rowan shook his head. What in Hellas’s burning realm was wrong with him? She was a threat, he had to remind himself. Dangerous, gorgeous, with a knack of pushing all his buttons at once.
Fenrys and himself had started the walk back to the palace, in silence, processing the meeting that had just transpired, when footsteps sounded behind them, only audible to Fae ears, and a shadow dropped across their path as Aelin Galathynius fell into step beside them.
“Do you know where I could get some chocolate?” Were her opening words.
Rowan opened his mouth, but promptly closed it, unsure of what to reply.
“Huh?” Fenrys blinked at the queen.
“Chocolate,” she replied, “where can I get some?”
“There’s a vendor on a street near the palace.” Rowan cut in, regaining his speech.
Aelin nods, scanning the streets around them. The mountains that surrounded Doranelle were crawling with Maeve’s wild wolves, guarding them from harm. And even then Doranelle was surrounded by rivers, an extra layer of protection. He eyed Aelin curiously, and wondered if she was on edge, a queen of ash and fire in the city of rivers. Yet she walked alone. It was unusual for a noble, much less a royal, to wander the streets without guards, much less in a different territory.
Fenrys seemed to think so too, saying as much.
Rowan winced, the male had no tact.
Aelin just chuckled, flashing a grin at Rowan as she simply replied,
“There have never been any attempts on your life?” Rowan inquired.
“Of course Prince, but I think I can handle myself, don’t you? Or was watching me train this morning not a good enough indication of my skills?”
Surprising, that she’d recognized him, but Rowan didn’t so much as blink as he replied,
“You were good enough, I suppose.”
“Is that a challenge, Prince?” Aelin drawled, her voice tightening to something razor sharp.
“It can be whatever you want it to be, Princess.” No matter she was a queen.
Fenrys’ had a shit-eating grin on his face, eagerly watching the battle of wills.
“In that case,” Aelin started, “Would you care to spar? We can see if you can live up to that immortal arrogance.”
Rowan could choke the air from her lungs in a heartbeat, but it would be good to see just how much of a threat she posed. Maybe she’d even be a challenge. A fight would be a good indication of her skills, and a good way to relieve some of the tension pent up.
“Good, I’ll send word. Now, however, I am going to get chocolate.” Aelin’s eyes were sparkling with wicked delight as she nodded to both him and Fenrys, veering off down a street leading her to the chocolate vendor.
Fenrys looked at him, eyebrows raised.
“Nothing.” Fenrys chuckled, shaking his head.
As Rowan made to start walking again, Fenrys threw out a hand to stop him. Looking around, he saw what Fenrys was staring at.
One of the demi-fae younglings had approached Aelin, tapping her legs to get her attention. She was standing in front of the stall selling Doranelle’s produce. The youngling was obviously from the poorer backstreets of Doranelle, his face dirty and clothing tattered. Probably the offspring of a High Fae and one of the demi-fae lurking in the streets. The only respected demi-fae here was Lorcan, and even he had issues with the Fae nobility, regardless of him being the most powerful male of diluted blood, with Rowan as the most powerful pure-blooded Fae. Nobody in the cadre would ever hold it against Lorcan, but some of the less progressive nobility had old views in the subject.
As they watched, the younglings held up a small bowl, with one or two gold pieces glittering in it.
Rowan sucked in a sharp breath, ready to intervene if need be. There were many Fae who would backhand the child for the sheer audacity. As the queen turned and saw the dirty face turned up at her, her face morphed into one of horror and alarm.
Fenrys tensed, about to run to the child’s aid, when Rowan stopped him with a hand on his wrist.
“Watch.” He murmured to the younger male.
Fenrys looked alarmed, but did as he said and relaxed.
As they watched, Aelin crouched down so she was at the young boy’s level and brushed back a strand of his dirty hair. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a small drawstring pouch. She stood, turning to the vendor next to her. For a moment, Rowan thought she meant to ignore the boy, but she simply turned back to him with a loaf of bread in her hands. She handed the bread to the boy, and emptied the rest of the pouch into his bowl. The gold coins glittered in the afternoon light, and the boy looked up at her with wonder in his expression.
She smiled at him, and her lips moved, speaking softly to the boy. This far away, it was impossible to hear what she was saying. The boy nodded in response to her words, and she gently took his arm.
A nasty cut stretched from beneath his shoulder to his elbow, and Rowan started as the skin slowly started to knit back together unnaturally fast. The boy flinched slightly as he munched on his bread, and Aelin stood, stroking his hair as she watched the injury heal.
The boy said something to her, and she smiled warmly at him, before watching him walk away safely.
So she could heal. Probably not extensive injuries, from the look of her skill set, but enough for basic battlefield healing. It was likely due to her Ashryver heritage, her mother had been a gifted water-wielder, Rowan remembered. It would be a useful skill in battle.
Aelin had just displayed a willingness to help those who had less in the world, a trait that would not go unnoticed by Maeve, a trait that was unusual for an immortal, and a trait that, above all, made her a good person. She had given up a luxury for herself to help someone with their own basic needs.
As the fiery queen looked around, and spotted Rowan and Fenrys standing there, she went preternaturally still. She held their gazes for a long moment, and he could have sworn the gold in her eyes glowed, as if flames flickered behind them. The space between them went taut with power. The look was a challenge and a judgement as she stared them down. Then, as quickly as it had left, her mortality returned as she gave them a two fingered salute and a wink before she turned away, wandering further down the cobbled street.
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