#how did we break up series

[lyilacs]

Seven.

TW , Trigger Warning // Anxiety or Panic Attacks

Your palms were cold; you were shivering yet your figure was not shaking outside. Your whole being was just being numb and dull– seemingly being on the brink of falling apart yet again. It was confusion, uncertainty and despair that clouded your mind as you confined yourself within the four corners of your flat– an apartment that you wouldn’t be staying at anymore soon. You had been bawling your eyes out for hours without uttering any noise as you embraced your folded legs while laying on your crumpled bed. You were trying your best to soothe yourself, but it seemed like your demons were trying to win you all over again. 

You lost your sense of time as you were just staring at your empty drawer table– it was so clear because the moonlight transcended on your window and it was the only light your room had ever since you got home from your hectic schedule. The last person you responded to might be asleep already due to their dreadsome workloads, even though you knew you needed someone to calm your nerves as your alternatives did not work anymore. No matter how occupied you had been, nothing really mattered when you were being left alone with your mind feeding you with all of conflicting things and rationalizing it at the same time.

Ah, you were already tired of everything that you did not remember when that everything started. All you knew was you needed to suppress your emotions and thoughts as you worked on being the grandest one. You needed to stop having such desires and oblige to the responsibility you were given. You weren’t to complain; after all, it was something you couldn’t even demand. You were smiling on your own but you couldn’t stop the tears streaming on your cheek. Your eyes were already swollen and your lids were utterly heavy, but you were far from falling into a deep slumber– that somehow the last resort you had to recuperate before facing the following struggle. 

It just made you realize that maybe– in the end– it was you who had been the problem. The conditional love you offered and how you had been selfish not just to others, but more importantly to yourself. You chose to tolerate everything with your own hands and gradually, it became the definition you had of yourself.

You didn’t notice how someone was already inside your dimmed home. It was the first time he saw the frail version of you as you always display the typical you– the one who laughed obnoxiously, the one who would blatantly unveil pettiness, the one who would be driven by thoughts then forgot what it was in the first place. You felt him pull you back in reality just how he made you sit down with both of his rough hands holding you onto your shoulders. Perhaps, the reason why he kept your apartment’s passcode was to keep you checked, but never did he realize that the last thing he hoped for would eventually came true.

“Why didn’t you call me?” You were projecting a meek smile; worry was all over his features and for the first time in a while, you felt such raw emotion you were oddly wishing for. “Stop smiling like shit and talk to me. What’s wrong? Weren’t we just talking fine the other day?”

Ah, right. You inhaled deeply before you heaved out a long sigh. You placed both of your weak hands on his broad chest and gently pushed him away, though your efforts were definitely useless as it did not make him move an inch. You couldn’t look at him directly and you did not know whether it was because your body was giving up on you or because you were weeping out your shattered self again– the one you repeatedly tried to pick up in the process, but each fall back, you just lose a part of you yet again. 

“Everything is wrong,” you mustered to murmur, but the silence surrounding the two of you made it so loud and clear for him. Your voice was brittle, just like how you attempted to push him with more effort. It must be your fault for not being honest, for trying to interpolate things on your own negativity and probably for forgetting the important details that should have remained as literal as they should have been. “I’m tired of being like this– of everything.”

You saw how more puzzled he became while his eyes were looking for answers on your face– he was waiting for the answers to escape your trembling and dried lips, but all you could give him was your pierced self, crumbling right in front of him, losing every remaining energy in his hold. The remaining conscience you had within you was urging you to push him away, to let him go, to make him leave, before you gradually had enough and collapsed in his arms.

You would, if you were true to yourself; you would love to be held by him and be assured that he would keep you away from anything that would harm you– yet at the same time, you knew you weren’t in that position to do so. There were things that you knew you could not ask for as you knew that it was inappropriate of you– based on your own beliefs, at least. Your rationality had always been battling against your yearnings; it was an endless cycle that placed you in a never-ending situation of being in the middle.

You became calculated, limited, contingent– and when someone was right there to provide the world to you, you were losing all of your sanity as you did not learn how to welcome it wholeheartedly. Maybe you knew, but the world before him taught you that you weren’t deserving at all, that was why the moment he came into the picture– the clueless man was hurting the way you were hurting yourself. It was like a double blade stabbing the both of you, and maybe it was the reason why it didn’t go well before. Somehow, the same thing was repeating on its own right now.

“I told you to say anything, to ask me anything–” he was holding back his rage; the man was being conflicted whether he let his temper win or to patiently wait for you to come to him– to accept him and let yourself be in care of him after all the years he had waited. “– you know I’ll be there–”

“Do you think I did not think of that?” You interrupted his train of thoughts with a subtle exclaim– you did not have the will to be loud enough to express your pain, but your sobs were showing otherwise. It was starting to be the one that was constant– as if it was ever flowing with the strained voice you were emitting while you shed tears. “But what am I? Do I even have the right to demand? No, I don’t!”

There it was; the blurred line that remained unknown for so long. You had been comforted by an image of peaceful life you secretly hoped for– with him holding your hand and leading you anywhere else you would love to go. However, every time you wished for happiness, it would only be shattered by the reality you were facing. The encounters you had before his return taught you things you needed to know, or rather, forced you to believe in.

“Go,” there she was, letting her avoidant self speak, “you wouldn’t be happy here. I have nothing else to offer here. I am empty, useless, a karma– I am just nothing—”

“Is this what you really want?” His tone was firm, yet his patience was also running thin. The last thing he would want was to let his emotions control over the situation as he knew it would not be beneficial at all.  He called your name as he gripped on your arms. You could feel how he was also hanging in there, depending on your answers because there was no way he would push himself into you when you were resisting him in the first place. “Answer me, truthfully.”

“You have to leave—”

“Is this really what you wanted?!” He snapped while his eyes were starting to be blurry as well because of the restrained tears he has. He was keenly looking at your helpless state, waiting for the truth in your words and tears as you were just bawling in his hold. The two of you knew that you have to be certain with your decision before this whole thing concludes to another painful ending, but you were too exhausted to lose once again and you knew to yourself that was the last strand you had.

“No–” You hiccupped, while your quivering hands were against his cheeks. His eyes were turning red and swollen, even though he was keeping such a strong facade to stay still. “You— please— keep me.” You tried to complete your sentences in between your tears. How did you become this dependent and defenseless when it came to him? You did not know; yet, this time, your yearning for him overthrown everything else within you.

“Please— I need you—” You were holding onto his shirt, pressing your forehead against his chest as you confessed your inner thoughts; the desires of that child begging for someone’s warmth and assurance, the ones he had been waiting for you to say when you were not intoxicated nor were you hiding from your laughs or ambiguous words. “I— I don’t know what to do– please— don’t go—”

Your words were getting quieter as he enveloped you into a tight embrace. You didn’t need to say anything as his caresses on your back comforted you and gave you the silent reassurance you were hoping for. For once, you were truthful to yourself when you wanted to be greedy of him as you were nowhere letting go of that figure from your hold. For once, you were able to convey what you really wished for even though you were about to faint out of exhaustion.

You let yourself cave into his warmth and mindlessly let yourself rest after a long journey of agony. Although, you weren’t sure anymore whether it was another painful dream when you woke up again or it was a reality you would start anew from the moment onwards. You hoped those painful dreams stopped occurring in your mind anymore and you had been utterly honest that you wanted him and there was no way you would turn away once more. 

Yet, at the same time, if it was a dream, you wished you would not wake up anymore.

[universalthaumaturge]

so. chapter 5 huh.

[stormyoceans]

I'VE ONLY NOW NOTICED THEY SHOWED PEEM'S PAINTING WITH THE ROSES ADDED TO IT IN THE PREVIEW FOR NEXT EPISODE FUCK

[kaidanalenkosprmanager]

THE BEST OF MASS EFFECT: VIRMIRE

Featuring: Cmdr. Sophie Shepard and Cmdr. Dominik Shepard With: Lt. Kaidan Alenko, Gun. Chief Ashley Williams, Urdnot Wrex, and Tali'Zorah nar Rayya Ft. Special Guest Appearances by: Spec. Saren Arterius and Sovereign There is a realm of existence so far beyond your own, you cannot even imagine it... Mass Effect: Legendary Edition (2021)

[mla0]

i hate when people portray michael and/or patrick as some kind of master manipulator who was terrible to shaun and stormy. like, in the past, michael sometimes got portrayed with little autonomy, or as childish and overly innocent in a weird way. that in itself is an issue with the treatment of mentally ill characters (infantilization), but the solution isn't to argue that he's actually a monster who only wanted to hurt and mislead people. the same goes for patrick. i don't enjoy the "goofy flirty mass murderer" interpretation for very similar reasons, because in the canon patrick did indeed do some wild shit but i think it's a stretch to say it was out of malice, except maybe towards eric lol

obviously there will be different views of these characters and this isn't meant to be gatekeep-y or anything, i'm just concerned with how certain portrayals can quickly slide into negative biases towards mental illness. i think if you're going on this route you might want to ask yourself why, and consider how it could make the mentally ill people within the fandom feel when they see their own symptoms portrayed by their peers as synonymous with being dishonest or manipulative

[willowfey]

last post i reblogged got me thinkin about how DRAMATIC the lives of my dolls used to be. my main dollhouse storyline was that the dollhouse was actually a resort hotel with a hot tub (bowl of warm water) and all sorts of other features, and there were two main families on vacation there, staying in rooms side by side, leading vastly different lives otherwise. except the parents of both families all knew each other as kids and were all secretly in love and have been thinking about each other for years, but they had a huge falling out and swore to never see each other again so when they find out they’re all staying there they try their best to avoid contact…. but while on vacation there’s a major natural disaster (usually all of them mixed into one), and two of the kids (one from each family, the youngest smallest weakest most pathetic children) go missing and the rest of them are barricaded in their room due to earthquakes and flooding and fires, and one parent from each family swaps and two of them go on a rescue mission while the others try to get out of the rooms, all while the kids are learning to get along despite their differences, and the parents realise that they got the fathers mixed up originally and now they don’t know whose real parents are whose, and also actually the resort ends up being under a terrorist/hostage situation, and the parents that are on the rescue mission keep almost dying and saving each other….. and then by the end of it the parents realise they’re all 4 in love and should just be a blended family and all the kids get to be siblings with 4 parents and live in a mansion together. but they all have ptsd from the events of their vacation and end up all sleeping in one room together forever.

and then i’d do it all over again

[kaythefloppa]

I always point out Bunk’d on the list of shows with a terrible finale (since S3 was supposed to be the last but it effectively did kill the quality of the show) but having watched the final episodes of Bunk’d that aired last night, I can now actually reaffirm that its ending is shit.

Because oh my god is it shit.

[lanternlightss]

guys i keep thinking about loop and nameless bard being friends. they are. rotating around up there

[fluffypurpleglitterdemon]

If they keep the “reds aren’t allowed to be friends with yellows/greens” rule on Limited Life I am going to start biting

[unproduciblesmackdown]

for real how epic that akd crushes this role for 6 seasons where they are acting it tf up and whenever they appear guaranteed Very Present when they contrast so much against the backdrop of the rest of the series' milieu in addition to having a usual intensity in demeanor and billions had to hold the role back to avoid eclipsing its supposed core parts but didn't just try to get rid of them about it and so we get all this energy already and the constant nonbinarity too. win

[lyilacs]

Six.

You never expect these matters to fall into places– especially on your own plate. It reminded you of that particular moment wherein you were told that you were always with someone, regardless of whom it might be or where they came from. You hid your loneliness and insecurities to a such strong façade and it did not once fail to enchant anyone who would lay their gaze on you. Your honey-like voice hummed onto their ears like a lullaby, asking for you to sing them such soothing songs and stories that would drive their fascination towards you.

Despite the consequences, you were benefiting with all of these. You knew the price of every second you escaped your realities, alternating your choices with one secret to another and then coating it with fatal sweetness so no one ever could see the truth in your dull gaze. You were too bemused yourself with the fragile happiness and love set out in front of you, and the impatience and fears of being left behind urged you to clasp on it– not too tight, but not too light, just enough for you to feel temporary contentment.

In between the new encounters and unseen rendezvous, you found a new fixation over the repetitive push and pull with someone. He found you first, but someone was limiting that connection hence your attention drifted to someone else. He watched you and your decisions be placed one by one– those things you wished that other person would understand ended up being deliberated by himself and you found this amusing because it was another undisclosed attachment you were having yet again. After all, you were seemingly accustomed to being someone whom they could not speak of as an interest. 

However, you just found yourself in another dilemma and got tangled with several situations on your own accord. Exhaustion was toiling on you as you were just letting these people come and go from your life. One thing you had learned from your previous experiences: you gave up voicing out your genuine emotions, whether it was wishful thinking or disappointment. After letting the tides calm, it became official, you were snatched by him when he knocked on your door and apologized for turning his back on you rather than choosing happiness with you; and you were there giving it a chance to prove its worth– if it was the risk you must take. 

You thought everything was moving steadily until your facade was slowly breaking into pieces. In this odd game of chess, everyone placed out their pawns until it was taken one by one, having the main piece exposed to the opposite person– at the end of the day, each one carries their own baggage and it is up to them whether they would share it or not. The whole sweet melody has shifted its course to a sharp and harsh tune that it was starting to stab you beat by beat. The whole story seemingly concluded within a span of five minutes, just like a sad song hidden in an upbeat tune. You were laughing aguishly, while tears were forming beneath your round orbs; you found it amusing, funnily amusing. 

It seemed like it was karma that reached your doors this time. It wasn’t just your relationship ended– it was also your never-ending muddy game and you have finally reached your time limit. 

After a very long time, you were exhausted with your mindless wandering; a path that you chose out of being defiant from the perfection you were projected to, a process of burying the half of your soul for a pitiless journey that did give you nothing but poison that eventually numbed you in the end.

You found yourself waking up on a one-sided parting that you just acknowledged. You were tired of having these emotions yet you did these things with your own hands. You already wept it out during your slumber a few nights prior– though you knew yourself that if he did not bring it up first, it was you who would do the deed. You always do that, after all. Your heels always chose to walk away and never turned back on matters that were not fruitful anymore. The more you release your grasp, the more anyone loses their chance to hold onto your hand. 

You remembered how he promised you never-ending assurances and affection before you promised yourself to him– only to find yourself abandoned with such reasoning that did not surprise you anymore. It was just the same as the previous one, showering you with sweet pleasantries and shifting the blame on you for having a demanding and troubled mind. It was starting to register in your mind that you were nothing but a trophy they were selfishly endeavoring to achieve, yet casting out somewhere once they realized that you were not the perfection they hoped to– neither the fragile damsel they needed to fix nor the saving grace they needed to fix them. 

You knew yourself you were neither, because you just wanted someone who would hold you dearly despite killing every emotion you accumulated, yet would continue everything you mercilessly did for you afterwards.

It became clearer to yourself; you just want someone who is like you, yet someone who would keep your feet on the ground.

That was the kind of saving you needed, after all. 

You found yourself sneering with your tiers forming a wry grin and your eyes turning red because of the tears streaming down on your cheeks. You sniffled and finally removed the shoes you had been wearing for too long before you picked the comfortable ones. You headed towards the door and stepped out of your long time confinement. You shut your lids and let the cold breeze brushed your frail features; you had no choice but continue to live your day after that long heavy dream.

Somehow, rather than pain, you found relief. You still felt that little guilt but you knew deep inside, you were thankful that you woke up and the exhausting cycle ended with that period you shared with him. It was unfortunately part of the process– and nothing could ever turn back the time that had passed, so you do know that being sober was the only answer you have in your hands to keep moving forward.

And knowing your habit, you would end up forgetting those faces and names, yet retain the emotions they shared to you even though you would forget how it began. You became selfish like that– yet it was also the experience that had caused you such a series of welcoming someone with warm arms and letting them go with cold eyes. 

Though, this time, you would never let anyone come in unless they decided to go where you are– from the depths of hell and to the highest peak of the heavens.

[themyscirah]

Obsessed with the idea of Xanthe accidentally folding something/summoning something with their joss paper and then it's just like welp. I guess I have a dog now

[wekillitwithfire]

finished reading Hell Bent i thought it was the last book in the series but now i have to sit here with a cliffhanger for god knows how long

[daincrediblegg]

you know a bitch is emotionally unstable when you tear up with joy watching the first 5 minutes of chernobyl

[bubaboos]

finished crash course in romance

(yes, i will be using this shoma pic every possible occasion from now on aldjdhsjkkrfl)

[acourtofquestions]

No. No, it couldn't have been a dream The escape, Rowan, the ship to Terrasen—

A dream. An illusion. Her escape from him, from Maeve, had been another illusion.

Had she said it? Had she said where the Keys were hidden?

Then a cool, cultured voice purred, "All that training, and this is what becomes of you?" Not real. Arobynn, standing on the other side of the altar, was not real.

"Even Sam held out better than this."

Fenrys snarled.

You could get out of these chains, if you really wanted," Arobynn said, frowning with distaste. "If you really tried."

No, she couldn't, and everything had been a dream, a lie.

"You let yourself remain captive. Because the moment you are free..." Arobynn chuckled. "Then you must offer yourself up, a lamb to slaughter."

Only hearing the King of the Assassins, unseen and unnoted beside her.

"Deep down, you're hoping you'll be here long enough that the young King of Adarlan will pay the price. Deep down, you know you're hiding here, waiting for him to clear the path." Arobynn leaned against the side of the altar, cleaning his nails with a dagger. "Deep down, you know it's not really fair, that those gods picked you. That Elena picked you instead of him. She bought you time to live, yes, but you were still chosen to pay the price. Her price And the gods'?"

Arobynn ran a long-fingered hand down the side of her face. "Do you see what I tried to spare you from all these years? What you might have avoided had you remained Celaena, remained with me?" He smiled. "Do you see, Aelin?"

She could not answer. Had no voice. Cairn hit bone, and—

Aelin lunged upward, hands grasping for her thigh. No chains weighed her. No mask smothered her. No dagger had been twisted into her body. Breathing hard, the scent of musty sheets clinging to her nose, the sounds of her screaming replaced by the drowsy chirping of birds, Aelin scrubbed at her face.

The prince who'd fallen asleep beside her was already running a hand down her back in silent, soothing strokes.

A dream. Just a dream.

She twisted, setting her feet to the threadbare carpet on the uneven wood floor.

"Dawn isn't for another hour," Rowan said.

Yet Aelin reached for her shirt. "I'll get warmed up, then." Maybe run, as she had not been able to do in weeks and weeks.

Rowan sat up, missing nothing. "Training can wait, Aelin." They'd been doing it for weeks now, as thorough and grueling as it had been at Mistward.

She shoved her legs into her pants, then buckled on her sword belt.

"No, it can't."

A gathering storm to the north had forced their ship to find harbor last night—and after weeks at sea, none of them had hesitated to spend a few hours on land. To learn what in hell had happened while they'd been gone.

The answer: war.

Everywhere, war raged. But where the fighting occurred, the aging innkeeper didn't know. Boats didn't stop at the port anymore— and the great warships just sailed past. Whether they were enemy or friendly, he also didn't know.

Aelin scowled. "What." It wasn't so much of a question as demand.

His gaze was unfaltering. As it had been when she'd returned from her run through the misty fields beyond the inn and found him leaning against the apple tree. "That's enough for today."

"We've hardly started." She lifted her blade.

Rowan kept his own lowered. "You barely slept last night."

Aelin tensed. "Bad dreams." An understatement. She lifted her chin and threw him a grin. "Perhaps I'm starting to wear you down a bit."

His canines gleamed. "You need to eat."

"I need to train."

She couldn't stop it-that need to do something. To be in motion.

No matter how many times she swung her blade, she could feel them. The shackles. And whenever she paused to rest, she could feel it, too—her magic. Waiting.

Indeed, it seemed to open an eye and yawn.

She clenched her jaw, and attacked again Rowan met each blow, and she knew her maneuvers were descending into sloppiness.

Knew he let her continue rather than seizing the many openings to end it.

She couldn't stop. War raged around them People were dying. And she had been locked in that damned box, had been taken apart again and again, unable to do anything.

Rowan struck, so fast she couldn't track it. But it was the foot he slid before her own that doomed her, sending her careening into the dirt.

"I win," he panted. "Let's eat."

Aelin glared up at him. "Another round."

Rowan just sheathed his sword. "After breakfast."

She growled. He growled right back.

"Don't be stupid," he said. "You'll lose all that muscle if you don't feed your body. So eat. And if you still want to train afterward, I'll train with you." He offered her a tattooed hand.

But Aelin said, "People are dying. In Terrasen. In-everywhere. People are dying, Rowan."

"Your eating breakfast isn't going to change that." Her lips curled in a snarl, but he cut her off. "I know people are dying. We are going to help them. But you need to have some strength left, or you won't be able to."

Truth. Her mate spoke truth. And yet she could see them, hear them. Those dying, frightened people. Whose screams so often sounded like her own.

Rowan wriggled his fingers in silent reminder. Shall we?

Aelin scowled and took his hand, letting him haul her to her feet. So pushy.

Rowan slid an arm around her shoulders. That's the most polite thing you've ever said about me.

Elide's eyes widened. Widened further as he opened his mouth, and took a bite. His swallow was audible. His cringe barely contained. Elide reined in her smile at the pure misery that entered the Lion's tawny stare. Aelin and Rowan had been finishing up a similar battle when she'd entered the taproom minutes ago, the queen wishing her luck before striding back into the courtyard.

Elide hadn't seen her sit still for longer than it took to eat a meal. Or during the hours when she'd instructed them in Wyrdmarks, after Rowan had requested she teach them.

It had gotten her out of the chains, the prince had explained. And if the ilken were resistant to their magic, then learning the ancient marks would come in handy with all they faced ahead. The battles both physical and magic.

Gavriel met her stare, and Elide again restrained her laugh.

She felt, rather than saw, Lorcan enter. The innkeeper instantly found somewhere else to be. The man hadn't been surprised to see five Fae enter his inn last night, so his vanishing whenever Lorcan appeared was certainly due to the glower the male had perfected.

Indeed, Lorcan took one look at Elide and Gavriel and left the dining room.

They'd barely spoken these weeks. Elide hadn't known what to even say. A member of this court. Her court. Forever.

He and Aelin certainly hadn't warmed toward each other. No, only Rowan and Gavriel really spoke to him. Fenrys, despite his promise to Aelin not to fight with Lorcan, ignored him most of the time. And Elide ... She'd made herself scarce often enough that Lorcan hadn't bothered to approach her.

Good. It was good. Even if she sometimes found herself opening her mouth to speak to him. Watching him as he listened to Aelin's lessons on the Wyrdmarks. Or while he trained with the queen, the rare moments when the two of them weren't at each other's throats.

Aelin had been returned to them. Was recovering as best she could.

Elide didn't taste her next bite of porridge. Gavriel, thankfully, said nothing. And Anneith didn't speak, either. Not a whisper of guidance. It was better that way. To listen to herself. Better that Lorcan kept his distance, too.

Whether the others knew what propelled her, they hadn't said a word. Aelin sheathed Goldryn and loosed a long breath. Deep down, her power grumbled. She flexed her fingers. Maeve's cold, pale face flashed before her eyes. Her magic went silent.

Fenrys sat in wolf form at the edge of the nearest field, staring out across the expanse.

Precisely where he'd been before dawn.

She let him hear her steps, his ears twitching. He shifted as she approached, and leaned against the half-rotted fence surrounding the field.

"Who'd you piss off to get the graveyard shift?" Aelin asked, wiping the sweat from her brow.

Fenrys snorted and ran a hand through his hair. "Would you believe I volunteered for it?" She arched a brow. He shrugged, watching the field again, the mists still clinging to its farthest reaches. "I don't sleep well these days." He cut her a sidelong glance. "I don't suppose I'm the only one."

She picked at the blister on her right hand, hissing. "We could start a secret society-for people who don't sleep well."

"As long as Lorcan isn't invited, I'm in."

Aelin huffed a laugh. "Let it go."

His face turned stony. "I said I would."

"You clearly haven't."

"I'll let it go when you stop running yourself ragged at dawn."

"I'm not running myself ragged. Rowan is overseeing it."

"Rowan is the only reason you're not limping everywhere."

Truth. Aelin curled her aching hands into fists and slid them into her pockets. Fenrys said nothing didn't ask why she didn't warm her fingers. Or the air around them. He just turned to her and blinked three times. Are you all right?

A gull's cry pierced the gray world, and Aelin blinked back twice. No. It was as much as she'd admit. She blinked again, thrice now. Are you all right?

Two blinks from him, too. No,

They were not alright.

They might never be. If the others knew, if they saw past the swagger and temper, they didn't let on.

None of them commented that Fenrys hadn't once used his magic to leap between places. Not that there was anywhere to go in the middle of the sea. But even when they sparred, he didn't wield it. Perhaps it had died with Connall. Perhaps it had been a gift they had both shared, and touching it was unbearable.

She didn't dare peer inward, to the churning sea inside her. Couldn't.

Aelin and Fenrys stood by the field as the sun arced higher, burning off the mists.

Aelin shook her head. Another dream, or hallucination. "If she's on our heels with this army, I'm just ... trying to understand it. Her, I mean."

"You plan to kill her." The gruel in her stomach turned over, but Aelin shrugged. Even as she tasted ash on her tongue.

"Would you prefer to do it?"

"I'm not sure I'd survive it," he said through his teeth. "And you have more of a reason to claim it than I do."

"I'd say we have an equal claim."

His dark eyes roved over her face. "Connall was a better male than—than how you saw him that time. Than what he was in the end."

She gripped his hand and squeezed. "I know."

The last of the mists vanished. Fenrys asked quietly, "Do you want me to tell you about it?" He didn't mean his brother.

She shook her head. "I know enough." She surveyed her cold, blistered hands. "I know enough," she repeated.