Maeve's Daughter ~ Throne of Glass

Chapter 12- "Faerie Queen of the West"

Freya had accompanied Yrene, as she took her around the keep, showing her where the healers and supplies were.

Freya had been trying not to pry since she'd scented it on her  but only five minutes went before she suddenly blurted out, "Congratulations!" unable to help herself.

Yrene blushed, "How did you know?"

Freya grinned cheekily, "I could smell it on you, does Chaol know?"

Yrene shook her head, "No, I'm not sure how to tell him, what with everything's that's been going on."

Freya spotted Chaol walking slowly down the long corridor to meet them and winked at her saying, "I think I'll explore a bit on my own, I'm sure you two have plenty to talk about.." she said to Yrene, who nodded after a few seconds of deliberation in agreement.

"I think he'd want to know, plus then you can tell everyone else and we need a little bit of joy right now." she whispered as Chaol drew closer, before sweeping away around the corner leaving Yrene beaming brightly, waiting in excitement.

~

True to her word, Freya had actually wandered the halls for a while, familiarising herself with the twists and turns, where various entry points for the wounded would be, and so on.

However she soon became bored and made her way to the chambers where Yrene had said the Terrasen court had taken over.

As she drew closer she heard an old cold snapping voice taunting a younger fiery witty one.

"This is my keep." Lord Anielle was standing in the hall with Yrene and Chaol, facing a tired and irritated young queen who made a great show of staring up at the ceiling and the floor before replying, "Is it really? Goodness.
I trust you're not going to get in our way?"

Chaol's father ignored the line she'd just drawn, saying simply, "Last I looked you were not the Queen of Adarlan."

"No but your son is Hand to the King, outranking you, hadn't he told you?" She smiled sweetly.
Prince Rowan cut in quickly, "You've defended your people admirably. We have no plans to take that from you."

The lord sneered, "I don't need the approval of Fae brutes."

Just as he uttered the words Freya had reached them, "What's this about Fae brutes, human?" She grinned- flashing her canines at him- looking down her nose, "perhaps you don't need our approval or our help?"

The man took one look at the utterly lethal look on her face and the wicked weapons at her side, visible now she'd removed her cloak, and to his credit, didn't shit his pants. However he did shut up.

Aelin cackled, "On that parting note, we're going to finish up our dinners- Freya you'll join us?"
The female nodded, still smirking.

"Enjoy your evening, don't worry we'll see you on the battlements tomorrow."

"And please do rot in hell." Freya added, narrowing her eyes at the man before following Aelin into the chamber, the door slammed shut behind her, leaving  the man shaking with rage.

~

"What a horrible man." Elide finished off her chicken leg before handing the rest to Fenrys. He tore into it with a growl of appreciation, drawing a smile onto Freya's face, that only grew as he caught her gaze, before offering her the last one, which she graciously accepted, lithely sliding down the wall curling her legs beneath her as she promptly sat on the floor and began munching away.

"Poor Lord Chaol." Elide continued.

"Poor Chaol, poor his mother, poor anyone who has to deal with him." Aelin retorted.

Rowan grinned at her, before whispering in her ear, and they moved to corner, talking quietly.

Giving them privacy, Elise turned across Fenrys to speak to Freya.
"So that day in Doranelle, were you using the Old Ways to disobey Maeve then as well?"

She smiled wickedly in response, "The cadre like to think Vaughan is the best at utilising Old Ways, but he's only half as good as me. After all I've been doing it much longer."

Fenrys smiled at that, before belching loudly causing Elise to crinkle her pert nose in disgust. Freya only laughed.

Suddenly Aelin spoke louder posing her question to the room: "Is a land battle easier or worse than at sea?"

"They're just as messy, in different ways." Her husband mused.

Fenrys grumbled, "I'd rather fight on land."

"Because no one likes the smell of wet dog?" Freya spoke from the corner causing them all to chuckle.

"Exactly because of that," he laughed, his eyes a little more alive. Aelin smirked knowingly at the sight.
"Where would you rather fight?" he then asked her.
"In the air." she grinned.

Gavriel slipped into the room, "The army looks quiet enough," he said by way of greeting, "the men are rife with fear, though. Days of defending these walls have worn them thin."
Rowan nodded in response, "We'll have sure they don't balk tomorrow then."

"I was wondering," Elise said then, to no one in particular, "Since Maeve is an imposter, who would rule Doranelle if she was banished with the Valg."

The room went silent at the prospect, all looked toward Freya tensely, but the Fae was only smiling lightly, before she looked Aelin dead in the eyes and said, "You."

Rowan swore in realisation and Aelin just blinked but Freya carried on, "The throne passes through the maternal line only, and you're the sole female with a direct undiluted claim to Mab's bloodline." she said simply.

Gavriel nodded in agreement, "Someone from your household too Rowan, they would have a claim to Mora's half of the the throne."

Rowan managed to choke out the words, "Sellene. It would go to her."

"She can have it, Doranelle's hers." Aelin spoke finally, meeting Freya's gaze solidly at that.

The female only smiled again, unsurprised.
"You'd be the Faerie Queen of the West, and Sellene the Fae Queen of the East."

Aelin's jaw dropped, "Is that even a real title?"

Freya gave her a look that said, it is now.

No one spoke for a good minute.

Then Freya spoke up again, warily this time, "It could mean a new homeland, for any Fae that survived in Terrasen all those years ago, and for those that would wish to live there, to begin anew."

Aelin's face softened in understanding and she merely tested out the title on her tongue, wondering how long she'd get to call herself such.