Divided (Throne of Glass and A Court of Thorns and Roses Crossover)

Chapter 2

The room we stood in was very dark. Cold shafts of air wafted through the room, and I called on magic to warm my fingers. Dread clenched at my heart as we waited for her to decide how we would end. The only hope I clung to was saving Rhysand from this fate. I would sacrifice myself if I had to, if it was the only way. I knew he would hate me for it, but I could not bear the thought of leaving Night without a Lord, our friends without a leader, my child without a father. 

"Lovely to finally meet the two of you. Prythian is very much in raptures at how you defeated the King of Hybern such a short time ago. I find his absence quite a blessing. This castle is so beautiful and was lacking in leadership when I arrived. Feyre darling," I cringed at the nickname that Rhys had once used for me, "you are more lovely than I ever imagined. I'm quite intrigued by you, becoming Fae and all. And Rhysand, what a beautiful creature you are." 

I took a moment to study our captor. I did not know her name or recognize her scent. It was otherworldly and did not belong to any court I had visited. Her skin was almost moon-white with hair long and black as night. Her long fingers gripped the mirror I had stolen from the Weaver a long while ago, and as I looked into her violet eyes, they seemed to pierce my soul. I shoved my mental blocks up as far and as wide as I could make them. If  she could read minds, I did not need her in my head. 

Rhysand replied first, "We are at a disadvantage, my lady. We do not know your name." I looked at him as he looked at her. He used a smile that could disarm almost any woman. The woman glided down the stairs from the throne pedestal and caressed his face. 

"I'm going to have so much fun with the two of you," the woman said with a devilish grin. She returned to the dais and sat on the throne of human bones. She raised her hand and called in some guards. I felt her eyes on us as they escorted us out of the room. 

From behind us, she called out, "You may call me Queen Maeve."

Aelin Ashryver Galathynius rose from her bed in Doranelle with a start. Sweat pooled on her lower back and her forehead. Throwing back the sheets, she crawled out of bed and made her way to the washbasin on the dresser. The water in the basin was too warm to wash away the nightmare, but she did use it to wipe away the sweat from her face.

A strong pair of arms wrapped around her. She stared, eyes glazed, as Rowan cooled off the water in the washbasin and wetted a cloth with it. Aelin laid her head back against his strong chest and let him take care of her for once. He needed to do something useful anyway. 

"Do you want to talk about it, Aelin?" he asked, wiping the cloth up and down her arms. 

"I don't know what these are, Rowan. I can't tell if these are dreams of my own design or if the gods are sending me visions. I have never met the people in these before, except for when I dream of Aidan. The world itself feels different than our own. If these are real, how am I supposed to help these people. There is no way to get to them." She turned around to look at her mate. 

Rowan pulled on her hand and led her back to the bed. He said, "You have a closer connection with the gods and your ancestors than anyone I have ever met. Although they are vague, they have never given you a task that you haven't been able to manage." Aelin sighed and snuggled closer to him. He played with wisps of her hair until she fell back into a dreamless sleep. 

The next day, Aelin ate lunch by herself, filling out paperwork and reading a book sent to her from her great-great-grandniece Analise of Terrasen. A knock on the door roused her from the tale of a beautiful queen and her handsome hawk-like warrior prince; Aelin smiled.

"Your Majesty, word has just arrived from the border. Apparently, the patrol has found something rather odd. Two Faeries have been apprehended," Gavriel announced.

"And why is this odd, Gavriel? I don't understand," she frowned at him and wondered why people couldn't handle things like this on their own. 

"The problem is that they do not smell Fae. They don't smell like anything I have ever scented before." Aelin jumped up out of her seat, dropping the book to the ground as well as some of the cookies on the table.

"Bring them here, Gavriel. Be wary of them, but do not harm them. As fast as you can," Aelin said. He bowed his head and exited the room. The queen bit her lip and picked up her book. Thoughts raced through her mind. Another world. How had these Fae come here? The portal was destroyed. What would happen if other beings could also travel to Erilea? 

Aelin went to the library. Although it comforted her and her pounding heart to be surrounded with knowledge, she couldn't help but feel like she was missing something. If Fae could come through, what else could come through? She piled book upon book on a table beside her reading chair. Anything that mentioned portals or gates or even the Old Magic. 

For hours, Aelin sat and read through book after book, searching for anything that might help her find an answer. The day was beginning to shift into evening, and Aelin's alertness dissolved. 

I lay in my bed, alternating between being hot and cold. I looked in the mirror that was beside it. I rolled my eyes at myself. Did I have to look so ghastly? My face was gaunt with sickness, and my eyes were dull. My once full lips were pulled thin, and my beautiful golden hair hung limp around me. It was a shame. I think I would have been very pretty. 

Father and the doctor talked far enough away to be out of earshot, but being bedridden had not stopped me from eavesdropping. I had learned to read lips in the past few months, and the news that the doctor carried was not good. What hogwash. Father would believe anything the doctors said. If they told him I would recover by rolling around in the sewers themselves, he would take me there himself. 

The doctor told Father that I  didn't have very much time left, that the sickness has almost consumed my body. I looked down at it. I still had a little bit left to go I laughed to myself. I watched as he told Father I had maybe another year to live. I rolled my eyes at the doctor. He told Father that last year too. I grunted as another violent shivered rolled down my spine. Perhaps he is right this time.

Aelin pulled a knife when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Without thinking she held it out as she quickly came to. Rowan stood above her, laughter in his eyes.

"That was disappointing. I think you're losing your touch, Fireheart," he told her. 

"My apologies. I will be more alert from now on," Aelin said angrily. She frowned and crossed her arms. 

"Did you have another dream?"

"It wasn't a dream. It was Aidan Meara. She's going to die soon, and her father is too stupid to do anything about it. Aidan is more like Dorian than her father, and she wasn't even alive when he died. I think that the gods are sending me visions of her because I am supposed to help."

"How can you help, carranam? You are not a physician or a healer."

"Maybe it's time I actually used that one drop of water in my soul for something," Aelin huffed at her mate. "I have to go to her. She's running out of time."