I aways imagined what would happened if Aedion had gone to endovier while Aelin/Celaena was arrested there and recognized her. I just love your writing and I would LOVE you making a one shot about it 😘
Everything was covered in layers of dirt and mud and grime. The axes that the slaves used to heave at the mineral deposits were dirty, the majority of them broken and cracked from being overworked as much as the slaves. It only made it harder for the people doing the mining, the points of the pickaxes dull and rounded and barely doing anything to get the job done.
As he walked through the filthy mines, Aedion’s blood boiled at the conditions the slaves were being forced to live in. Each of them was frail and underfed. Their faces and skin were caked with dirt and mud, hair dull and limp. Every single one of them had such a dead look in their eyes that Aedion was beginning to wonder if they were thinking about underperforming to lose their lives and be at peace at long last.
He had always known that the mines were hardly about mining salt. In truth, he was pretty sure that not much of the mined salt was even used and sold. If he remembered correctly, most of the salt that was used in Adarlan was imported from other nations along with the rest of their spices. The king was all about quality, and he had never been satisfied with what was found in his own lands. It was why he kept conquering all the other nations in Erilea.
No — the mines were about breaking people. And each and every one of these people were completely and utterly broken. Not just in physical appearance, not just with broken bones and broken hearts. But with broken souls and shattered hope that chipped away even more with every blow of their pickaxe.
Aedion hated that he appeared to be one of them. One of the people that slaughtered hopes and dreams, that ripped people from their families because of their heritage or petty crimes that they had committed. From what he understood, not many people here had actually done any major law breaking. Most of the men and women here were of Fae descent, simply being murdered in an act of genocide because the king was scared of what they were capable of. Scared of the magic that coursed through their veins. How Aedion wasn’t one of those locked away for his heritage — especially considering that he was a prince of Terrasen and Wendlyn — he didn’t know.
One of the only high security slaves was Adarlan’s Assassin and Aedion had yet to have a run in with the girl. From what he understood, she was a sixteen year old spitfire that constantly gave the guards and overseers hell. It gave Aedion some sense of hope that one day she might help lead a revolution within the mines to overpower the guards and free all the slaves that inhabited here. Maybe he would even be able to help her from the outside.
Seeing the conditions of this place made Aedion desperate. He wanted nothing more than to free these people right now but he would lose his life and that would do no good for the revolution he was helping organize with the rebels in the north. He had been able to free thousands of slaves and other people hiding in the Stags under the guise that he was really slaughtering all of them. The Bane would answer to no one but Aedion Ashryver, and their loyalty showed true considering that no one had yet turned him over to the king as a traitor.
Off to his right from somewhere deeper in the mines, he began to pick up a commotion that made his stomach drop. Those Fae senses of his were prickling, the hair on his arms and the back of his neck raising to attention as he recognized the sound of metal piercing flesh. The groans that the men being attacked made as their bodies crumpled to the floor were awful sounds that he had heard one too many times. Aedion’s stomach flipped as he took off running toward the raucous, eyes darting frantically for their source.
And then he saw her, golden blonde hair matted and covered in dirt swinging wildly in a messy braid as she swung. Her pickaxe nailed another guard in the stomach, and then she was spinning on her heel and it was bursting clean through another’s head. It was like watching a dance the way she moved, her too-thin limbs still strong enough to butcher men at will. This was her. This was Celaena Sardothien.
Guards were shouting at one another as they ran toward her, most of them meeting a gruesome and bloody fate that ended with them slumped on the ground with their intestines hanging from their bodies. Celaena was like wildfire, destroying everything in her path as she cut down guard after guard. With one particular overseer, he watched as a slow and wicked grin spread across her face as she gutted him. He was a little in awe at watching the way she seemed to find nothing but pure joy in killing the man. Aedion wondered what he’d done to deserve it.
Before too long, there were hardly any guards left between him and the young girl. Guards that she killed easily and quickly. Up close, he could see that her green eyes were glazed over as she worked toward the wall. Up close, her face made something in the back of his mind flicker with hope.
When her axe swung down on him and clashed against the metal of his sword, he realized that her eyes weren’t green at all. They were turquoise, surrounded by the brightest gold that appeared to be living flame. All of the blood drained from Aedion’s face and his mouth went dry as he looked at… his queen.
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