A Visitor from Terrasen [Indefinite Hiatus]

Hangover From Hell (or somewhere near it)

Aelin's head hurt, really fucking hurt. She felt like it had been flattened under a horse's feet then exploded and crushed up into fruit juice. Oh dear gods had she not been this hungover in a long long time. Fae hangovers were different from this, they were bad in a different way, and much more easy to handle than human hangovers. Yet here Aelin was, stuck in her human body after one of the best nights out she'd had in a long time.

She had won, and she was never going to let Cassian forget that. Despite him getting desperate at the end the few hours on the rooftops then through the woods had been full of conversation and just some very drunk platonic bonding.

He was so similar to the cadre that it had almost hurt to look at him some times. She had swung round to plunge a blade into him only to catch a glimpse of his face and just see Lorcan, or Fenrys, or even Rowan. The warriors frame, despite his wings just brushed against something within her and it hurt so badly to be separated from them that she had fallen back into the lull of the wine.

That also helped explain how drunk she had felt the night before, she had gotten on it like a dependence, just to avoid the pain in her heart and the scar on her soul.

As she lay in a state of semi-consciousness, she tried something she hadn't tried before, something she had been scared of trying. She reached into herself and felt for her ties, her blood oaths and her bond to Rowan. Her mental fingers tentatively brushed over them, they were there, she realised.

The blood oaths were strained, which she worried about for a moment, before deciding she would definitely rather they be strained than limp, it meant they were still connected. But some of her deepest bonds, the most important ones, seemed... different. The ones most precious to her, they felt strange, and almost foreign. The contamination to her closest held ties made her feel sick to the pit of her stomach, so she tucked them away and focused on opening her eyes.

Aelin inhaled deeply and cracked open an eyelid to see the room around her. She was back in her room in the House of Wind, the room was half-lit, clearly to help her obviously aching head. Aelin made a low groaning noise, to alert those she could sense in the room that she was indeed awake.

Immediately a large shape moved in the corner of her vision, and she felt a cool glass of what she hoped was water being pressed into her hand. Very slowly, she grasped it and moved upright enough that her shoulders were propped up in the pillows. It was all Aelin could do to half-sit there and settle the glass on her chest, still holding it as she tried to wake up properly.

She knew well enough the one to give her the glass was Cassian. "I'm gonna need," Aelin began to find Cassian backing off already. So she let out another groan, this time of anoyance and insisted, "Ginger root."

Cassian made a confused sound then asked, "You want a... ginger root?"

Aelin took the glass to her lips and gave him a thumbs up as she sipped the cool water. It soothed her wrecked throat, she hadn't even realised it had grown hoarse from yelling the night before.

She hadn't been 100% sure who else the second person in the room was until she heard Rhys throw something at Cassian. A raw ginger root.

The Illyrian caught it but looked confused, "Do we need to cook it?"

In response Aelin just held out a hand towards him, palm flat. He cautiously placed it in her hand and moved back again. She bit into it like an apple, narrowing her attention on just biting and chewing, blocking out the pounding in her head and the pain in her chest from being so far from home.