#talking ;; aelin

[acourtofquestions]

Lorcan: odds are 500 to 8

Aelin: *pops knuckles* “I got dis” *takes off running towards the demon- army*

Lysandra: *dives into monster swamp*

Elide: did you not hear the part about the odds being FIVE HUNDRED AGAINST US?!?

Aedion: *already half way up a mountain — shrugs*

Dorian: … she said she got dis… so… we good.

Gavriel: I’m still trying to heal 24 years of abandonment issues… this feels like the safe bet to join in…

Manon: *picking at iron nails* I mean I was gonna go kill something anyway

Rowan: I’m following her to the end of the earth so this felt about right.

[brainrotcharacters]

tell me I'm wrong

[bluiela]

YK what is the BIGGEST SJM unexplored plotline that had potential to take these books to the next level?

SJM ignoring the SA of Rhys, Nesta (DV in her case as well) (not including Lucien as he doesn't have a book so maybe she'll address and explore it)

Rhys went through 50-yrs of assault, but SJM literally mentions it once and doesn't even shed light on it. Or maybe explore how being in a healthy relationship has helped him heal or anything literally 3 BOOKS + 1 NOVELLA but not even addressing once.

Gives Nesta 700+ page book but not once did she address or talks about the domestic violence Nesta went through or Nesta being SA'ed in the past and IN THE BOOK by a kelpie, but NO ONE even acknowledges it. They see the scars and stuff, but no one is like, hey do you wanna talk about it or maybe to someone else or is there anything you need? or literally anything.

Like SJM does not shy away from Heavy topics but still she doesn't even address the trauma that is supposed to shape the character's personality?

[leiawritesstories]

PART TEN: OCTOBER (PART I)

A/N: omg, this chapter got INSANELY long. due to me accidentally getting carried away by lawyer brain, i'm splitting this hot mess of a courtroom drama into two parts (at least). hopefully, the second half will be ready soon!! sorry not sorry for the cliffhanger oopsies

Masterlist

Read on AO3

Word count: ~8.7k (yikes)

Warnings: swearing, lots of legal-ese (oops it's a courtroom drama!), angst, scheming, pining lovers, tension, brief descriptions of crime, references to deaths, trial talk, courtroom drama, oops it's a cliffhanger hehehe

enjoy........

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gavriel knocked on Aelin’s door promptly at eight-thirty, exactly when he came to her apartment every morning since she’d been placed under house arrest. She teased him about it, but nothing could crack his military punctuality, and as had become her new normal, she let him in, half joking when she asked if he was going to stay for breakfast. 

Her uncle smiled, lines crinkling the corners of his eyes. “I’ll spare you the awkwardness of my presence in your home.” 

“My cell, you mean.” Her tone was wry, but resigned. 

“You don’t need to be so fatalistic,” Gav returned. He sat down on her couch, stretching his legs out across the hardwood floor. “Plus, you definitely don’t want me standing around when you have your interview with Miss Rompier today.” 

“That’s today?” Aelin glanced at the whiteboard calendar hanging on the fridge. “Shit, I guess it is.” She blew out a sigh. “What are the odds I can get away with complete silence?” 

“Celaena Sardothien, silent? I don’t think so,” her uncle teased. 

Aelin laughed. “You’ve got me there, Gav.” She dropped into the armchair that faced the couch. “In all seriousness, though, how much do you think she’ll ask?” 

Gav frowned. “By your standards, probably too much, but you knew that and I’d bet Row—ah, I’d bet Lieutenant Whitethorn’s favorite pistol you’re prepared for it. Just…” He leaned forwards, braced his elbows on his knees, and pushed his Commander Ashryver expression across his face. “Aelin, you can’t lie to the press when you’re about to go into trial proceedings.” 

“I know,” Aelin said quietly. Resignation weighed heavily on her shoulders as she met her uncle’s unyielding stare. “Please believe me when I tell you that I’m not going to lie about…about any of it.” 

“Good.” Gav nodded briskly. “Have you eaten?” 

“I don’t think I can.” Her face paled, nausea churning in her stomach at the thought of what she was about to endure. 

“Okay. Bring something with you, at least, yeah?” Her uncle rose from the couch. “I’ll even stick one of those char-shootery things you like in my bag.” 

“It’s called ‘charcuterie,’ Gav,” Aelin chuckled. “Fine. I’ll throw a protein bar or something into my purse and see if I can stomach it after the interview.” 

When she was ready, she slung her purse over her shoulder, stepped into a pair of bloodred four-inch stiletto heels that paired beautifully with her charcoal pantsuit, and after Gav checked the Wyrd cuff on her left arm, she followed him out to his car. The pair of TSF guards outside her door nodded politely at her as she left; they’d become accustomed to each other’s presence in the short time since she had been under house arrest. She’d started ordering extra takeout and leaving meals for them on the nights that she ordered food—not as bribery, just as a kindness—and after they confirmed she wasn’t trying to kill them with Pad Thai, they accepted her gift. 

Aelin was uncharacteristically reserved during the drive to the courthouse, a route she assumed she would become very familiar with over the next few weeks as her trial proceeded. Gav pulled around to the east side when they reached the grand brownstone building, escorting her in through the more private east entrance to avoid the flock of hungry press that had heard rumors of the Shadow Assassin in court and crowded around the front entrance. 

“Thank you,” she murmured as he guided her down the hallways. 

“Not a problem,” he replied. “Far as those bloodthirsty vultures know, they have the wrong date.” He led her down a series of side hallways, all paneled in matching mahogany-stained oak and white plaster, her heels clicking crisply beside his military boots on the polished marble floors. After several minutes and several turns—which she memorized—he stopped at an unmarked door identical to every other one they’d passed. “This is the interview room. You’ll get time here with your lawyers during the trial, and I thought it would be the best location for this interview.” 

“You, of course, thought correctly. Thanks, Gav.” She squeezed his hand. He nodded, stifling a soft smile as he held open the door for her. 

“I’ll be back in ninety minutes,” he said, both to her and to the dark-haired reporter sitting slack-jawed and goggle-eyed at the table. 

“I…Aelin Galathynius?!” The journalist snapped her mouth shut but continued to gawk with wide eyes as Aelin calmly sat down on the other side of the table. 

“Hello, Kaltain.” 

~

Kaltain Rompier had been looking forward to this interview for almost every minute of the five days she’d known she would get to conduct it. And none of that anticipation could have prepared her to come face to face with the woman behind the Shadow Assassin’s mask. 

Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, CEO of the massively successful tech development company Galathynius Inc., seated herself comfortably in the chair opposite Kaltain, folded her hands atop the table, and gave Kaltain a disarmingly soft smile. “Hello, Kaltain.” 

“You’re Celaena Sardothien?” That stupid fucking question probably ruined all of her journalistic credit, but Kaltain had to hear it from the woman’s own lips before she would believe it. 

Calmly, Aelin dipped her head in a nod. “Yes, I am.” 

“Holy shit,” Kaltain whispered. She shook her head sharply and pinched her thigh under the table to snap her attention back to where it should be. “I suppose I should tell you that I’ve been granted special access to view and report on your trial. There will only be three of us—me, a photographer, and another reporter from the Gazette because they can’t have just one outlet printing trial coverage.” 

“That’s a lot fewer press than I was expecting,” Aelin mused. “Normally, with a trial this big, the courtroom would barely have space for witnesses with the amount of press that’s there.” 

Kaltain shrugged. “I was told that press coverage would be severely limited due to the sensitive nature of this trial.” 

“Sensitive nature,” Aelin scoffed. “Well, I suppose if they’re going to trot out the photos, some people could get a little nauseous. It’s not my fault that not everyone can look at the aftermath of torture.” 

“But it is your fault that you imparted that torture?” Kaltain added. 

The smirk that curled Aelin’s crimson lips was nothing short of terrifying. “That’s for the judge and jury to determine. Excellent question, though. Anyone else would have answered it.” 

“I’ve had a lot of practice developing the right kinds of questions,” Kaltain said with a smirk of her own. “So tell me, Celaena Sardothien, how long has your identity been known?” 

“That depends on who you ask and what you mean by known,” Aelin returned. “I believe the name ‘Celaena Sardothien’ has been circulating around various parts of the internet for years, but it was specifically connected to this string of murders around March. Terrasen Special Forces have known that I am Sadrothien for approximately a month if I’m being generous, and Orynth Police have officially known my identity for nine whole days. Aren’t they so good at their job?” 

Kaltain fought the urge to snicker at Aelin’s sly insinuation. “Officially?” 

“I can’t say for sure how long they unofficially knew, but I believe they suspected a connection as early as this spring. You’d have to ask TSF Lieutenant Whitethorn for a more precise date, since he was the operative agent who arrested me after discovering my identity.” Unless Kaltain was losing her mind, she swore that grief flickered across Aelin’s neutral expression when she said Whitethorn’s name. 

“Hmm. So, when a certain tabloid article circulated earlier this year, I assume you were behind its takedown?” 

“Did that particular article feature some rather creative, lurid lies about Aelin Galathynius?” 

“I believe it did.”

“Then yes, that sounds familiar.” Aelin smirked. “It’s a shame that that article came from such an unreliable source.” 

Kaltain did snicker at that barbed little comment. “And when a certain Shadow Assassin showed up at my former place of work…that was you?” 

Aelin nodded. “I’m sorry that I had to knock you out, but that’s why crime boss secrecy exists. Can’t have everyone who sees me running off and blabbing to the law about my appearance and physical location.” 

“Oddly enough, that’s totally understandable in a twisted sort of way.” Kaltain glanced at her notes, then tapped her phone to pause the voice recording. “Off the record, what about Cortland? Was he making all that shit up when he brought me the story?” 

“Not completely,” Aelin admitted. “He was at the same club that my friends took me to for my birthday, he was a giant sleazebag as per usual, and I did in fact punch him in the face for being a raging misogynist prick.” 

“Hmm. I suppose he had that coming.” Satisfied, Kaltain turned the recording back on. “So tell me, Celaena Sardothien. Did you think you would get caught?” 

Something that was both captivating and horrifying glinted in Aelin’s eyes. “Once again, that’s an excellent question, but you’ll have to attend the trial to find out the answer. I can, however, tell you one thing— there was a time during which I hoped I could make good on my name and vanish into the shadows, but that time has passed.” She sat back in her chair, those calculating eyes of hers never leaving Kaltain’s face. 

The door creaked open. “Ninety minutes are up. Lawyer is here.” 

Kaltain turned off the recording, gathered her notes into her folder, and stood up. “Thank you for answering my questions, Celaena.” The crime boss simply nodded, a gesture of respect, as Kaltain left the interview room. Outside, she walked to the nearest bench, sat down, and stared blankly ahead into the mahogany paneling of the wall. 

What in all hell was she getting into as she covered the Shadow Assassin’s trial? 

~

The reporter’s blank stare scared Rowan more than he cared to admit. 

He’d been all but sleepless for the last nine days, constantly replaying his actions from the moment he called his Fireheart by her other name up to the moment he watched Commander Gavriel escort her to house arrest, the sleek black cuff a damning symbol around her wrist. Guilt and regret mingled with resignation and determination, all of his tangled emotions clinging tightly together in a protective film around his splintered heart. 

“Miss Rompier?” He paused a few steps away from where the reporter sat. 

Kaltain’s attention snapped to him. “Lieutenant? I’m sorry, I must have zoned out. The interview I just finished was…well, it was quite intense.” 

“I can imagine,” Rowan mumbled. “Did you want an escort to the courtroom? The arraignment should be starting in half an hour or so.” 

“Thank you, but no.” Kaltain flashed him a polite, fleeting smile. “I know the way pretty well.” 

Rowan nodded and continued down the hallway, satisfied that the journalist hadn’t been rendered unwell by her interview with Aelin. With Celaena. Fuck, he still didn’t know how to reconcile the two identities—one a ruthless and heartless killer, one the light of his goddamned life. 

When he reached the interview room, the muted hum of voices spilled out from beneath the door, a flutter of parting words that poured out into the hallway as Ansel Briarcliff, Aelin’s attorney, opened the door and stepped out. 

“Lieutenant,” the redheaded attorney said crisply. 

“Counsel,” he said gruffly in response. “Is your client ready?” 

“I am finished speaking with her, yes.” Ansel was a master at speaking through legal loopholes, and Rowan had nothing but respect for the attorney whose friendship he knew Aelin valued so highly. He just nodded tightly, took a deep breath, and walked into the interview room. 

And stopped in his fucking tracks. 

“What the hell are you wearing?” The question practically exploded from his lips. 

Crimson lips curled into a knife-edged grin that kindled a fire in his traitorous blood. “Open your eyes, Lieutenant. My blouse is beige.” Aelin settled her purse straps on her shoulder and fixed her cunning gaze on him. 

Jaw locked, Rowan tore his eyes from Aelin’s face and swept an assessing look down her tailored charcoal blazer and trousers, the beige blouse that she was indeed wearing—damn his fucking mind for glimpsing the plunging cut of her blazer and skipping to the bare skin beneath—and the lethal crimson heels that raised her nearly to his eye level, their glossy hue perfectly matched to her lipstick. “Are you trying to piss off the judge, Fi–Sardothien?” 

She shut down the spark of pain in her eyes almost before he noticed it, before he realized how close he’d come to calling her the name burned into his soul. “I think the only one pissed off is you, Lieutenant.” The ferocity with which she delivered his title drove a fist into the too-thin defenses around his beaten heart. “Shall we go? I have an arraignment to attend.”

“After you…Aelin.” 

They were in the hallway, him at her back, when she stopped, turned sharply to face him, and drove a white-hot glare right into his forehead. “You know all of my names, Lieutenant Rowan Whitethorn, and yet you still choose to weaponize the ones that you know hurt the worst.” Grief rippled baldly across her face before she wrestled her expression back into neutrality. “Just choose one of them. Don’t confuse the court.” With that, she whirled back around and kept walking, and like a goddamn idiot, he fell into step at her shoulder. 

Two steps behind, like he always had been. 

~

Aelin composed herself as she entered the courtroom, hyperaware of Rowan’s presence at her back. She spared a quick glance towards the scant handful of cameras stationed around the room, thankful to Gav for controlling the amount of press who were allowed into the proceedings. Ansel tipped her head, silently ordering Aelin to get the hell over to her seat, and she strode across the courtroom, heels rapping against the wooden flooring. 

Not two minutes later, Judge Malakai Aryn entered, took his seat behind the bench, and rapped his gavel once. “This court is now in session,” he announced in a level, measured voice. Despite the lines etched into his forehead and around his eyes, the judge’s gaze was as keen as ever as he swept it over the people assembled in the courtroom. “Ms. Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, please stand.” 

Aelin stood. She placed her hands behind her back and linked her fingers, allowing everyone seated in the witness and spectator benches to have a clear view of the Wyrd cuff around her left wrist. 

“Ms. Galathynius.” Judge Malakai cleared his throat. “You have been charged with the following: Twenty-three counts of premeditated murder in the first degree. Twenty-three counts of premeditated torture causing grievous personal injury to the victims. Twenty-five counts of kidnapping an adult. Approximately ninety-three counts of unlawful trespassing. ‘Innumerable’ counts of breaking and entering. Destruction of private property worth up to thirty-two point seven million dollars. Arson. Wilful ignorance of Terrasen’s import and export bans. Violation of Statute 517.8b, which prohibits the sale of lethal weaponry. Aiding and abetting a federal prison break. And finally, Class A fraudulent impersonation.” 

He paused, allowing the list of charges to sink in. Before he could continue, Ansel leaned into her microphone. “Your Honor, I move that the impersonation charge be dropped.” 

“On what grounds, Counsel?” 

“‘Impersonation’ implies that the accused took on the identity of a separate person, Your Honor, and my client did not take an additional identity. The name Celaena Sardothien was a mere alias.” 

Judge Malakai nodded. “Does the opposing counsel object?” 

“No objection, Your Honor.” Weylan Darrow, the prosecuting attorney, said flatly. 

“Very well. The charge of fraudulent impersonation is dropped.” Judge Malakai struck his gavel. “In regard to the charges which you face, Ms. Galathynius, how do you plead?” 

Aelin looked the judge straight in the eye…and remained silent. 

The judge allowed the silence to extend for a long moment, then spoke again. “Ms. Galathynius, do you invoke your right to remain silent?” 

Ansel flicked a glance to Aelin, who simply unclasped her hands. “Your Honor, my client would like to address each charge separately, as is her lawful right under Section 4, clause 2c of the Terrasen Constitution.” 

“Very well. We shall proceed in ascending order of severity. Ms. Galathynius, how do you plead to the charge of violating Statute 517.8b?” 

“I invoke my right to remain silent,” Aelin said, her voice clear and steady. 

“How do you plead to the charge of wilfully ignoring Terrasen’s import and export bans?” 

“I invoke my right to remain silent.” 

“How do you plead to the charge of arson?” 

“I invoke my right to remain silent.”

“How do you plead to the charge of aiding and abetting a federal prison break?” 

“I invoke my right to remain silent.”

“How do you plead to the charge of destruction of private property worth up to thirty-two point seven million dollars?” 

“I invoke my right to remain silent.”

“How do you plead to the charges of breaking and entering and unlawful kidnapping?” 

“I invoke my right to remain silent.”

“How do you plead to the twenty-three counts of premeditated torture?” 

Aelin paused, stretching the silence for a good twenty seconds. “I invoke my right to remain silent.” She and Ansel had discussed the possibilities at length, and they had come to an agreement that it would clearly be in their best interest for Aelin to admit to at least one of the charges. With the amount of photographic evidence that Orynth PD had amassed, a “not guilty” plea would only increase the severity of her sentence. Ansel had recommended that Aelin plead guilty to the torture charge.

But she hadn’t stipulated that Aelin must plead guilty to that charge.

“Ms. Galathynius, how do you plead to—” 

“Your Honor, if I may?” Darrow interrupted the judge before he could ask the final question. Malakai gestured for him to speak. “Under Statute 826.7d, any law enforcement officer who made the arrest of a criminal may request to speak the charge to the accused at arraignment. I request that TSF Lieutenant Rowan Whitethorn, who made the arrest, be allowed to ask the accused for her plea to the final charge.” 

Malakai considered for a moment, and then he nodded. “Lieutenant Whitethorn, please approach the witness stand. You may ask the accused for her plea.” 

Rowan stood and walked to the witness stand. He adjusted the microphone for his height, locked his gaze onto Aelin, and asked, “Ms. Galathynius, did you or did you not kill these people?” 

Her voice did not falter a bit as she leaned into the microphone, drilled the full steel of her stare right through Rowan’s eyes, and said, plainly, “I did.” 

A collective gasp rippled through the courtroom. 

Judge Malakai rapped his gavel on the bench. “Ms. Galathynius, do you plead guilty or not guilty to the charge of first-degree murder?” 

“Guilty.” The word tumbled from her lips and crashed to the floor at her feet. 

“Very well. As the presiding judge, I hereby declare that the trial of the State of Terrasen versus Aelin Ashryver Galathynius will open on October sixteenth.” He banged his gavel down. “Dismissed.” 

~

“We can work with this. We can definitely work with this.” Ansel’s heels clicked against the wooden floor as she paced back and forth in the pretrial room, tapping a ballpoint pen against her lips, deep in thought. It was a stark contrast to her attitude from after the arraignment ten days ago, where she’d nearly shoved that pen through Aelin’s throat after Aelin’s guilty plea. 

Nearly stone-still in her chair, Aelin watched her attorney and close friend pace the room, thinking out loud about the best way to attack the evidence that the prosecution was going to trot out. “I pled guilty to the murder charge for a reason, Ansel.” 

“I know.” With a huffed sigh, the redhead dropped into her seat across from Aelin. “We’d agreed that you were going to enter a guilty plea for the torture charge, though. How the fuck are you going to stand up against that one?” 

“I have a plan.” 

“Aelin.” Ansel fixed her with a flat look. “I’m your lawyer, for fuck’s sake. You have to tell me your plans.” 

Aelin’s shoulders slumped with the release of her breath. “I’ve been thinking that by pleading guilty to the murders, I can work around the torture charge, since it’s a commonly held belief that criminal organizations will employ one set of people to perform torture and another set to kill. It’s kind of a separation of the two crimes, yeah? A way for me to approach the questioning.” 

“That does tend to be what people think about criminals, yes.” Ansel tapped her pen against her lips, thinking rapidly. “Furthermore, I don’t want you saying anything about the Wilkins lot explosion. For all the jury knows, if you’re guilty of one crime, you’re guilty of all the crimes. We can’t have that.” 

“Won’t the security camera footage help?” 

Ansel nodded. “You were home the whole time, and if you weren’t there, you can’t possibly have caused the incident. As far as I’m aware, there’s no evidence of a remotely triggered device.” 

“Okay.” Aelin folded her hands. “How are you going to spin your opening, then? Since I apparently shot us in the foot with my single guilty plea.” 

“Method,” Ansel said. “Juries eat up any argument that either claims the accused had a motive behind their madness or was entirely motiveless and unhinged. I’m going to tell them what they want to hear—the Shadow Assassin had a motive to her madness, and if they look closely, they’ll find that it wasn’t madness at all. It was strategy.” 

Aelin grinned. “I don’t tell you this nearly enough, Briarcliff. You’re brilliant.” 

“Thank you, I know.” There was a knock on the door, and Ansel stood. “It’s time.” She walked ahead of Aelin the whole distance to the courtroom, and she was already seated at the defense bench when Aelin entered the courtroom, paused in the doorway, and strolled down the aisle. Unhurried, her steps fell evenly on the hardwood floor, and although the sight of Rowan staring her down from the prosecutor’s bench struck her right in the heart, her stride was steady. Calmly, she took her seat beside Ansel, folded her hands atop the table, and discreetly made sure that the Wyrd cuff was visible to the few cameras that circled the courtroom. 

Judge Malakai swept into the room only moments later, and the court stood to welcome him as he ascended to the bench and sat down. “This court is now in session,” he declared. “Let the trial of the State of Terrasen versus Ms. Aelin Ashryver Galathynius begin. The prosecution may approach for opening statements.” 

Darrow rose, quickly adjusted his tie, and approached the bench. He placed his hands behind his back, inclined his head briefly to the judge, and faced the jury as he delivered his opening remarks. “Your Honor, esteemed jurors, and all present: The woman you see before you is Aelin Galathynius, whom you may know as the head of a company that develops and sells technical devices. Perhaps you are fortunate enough to have a Galathynius-produced device in your possession. What you do not see, at least on the surface, is a ruthless, bloodthirsty killer who stopped at no boundaries to carry out her list of butchery, a criminal so dangerous that it took our heroic police department a partnership with the Terrasen Special Forces in order to apprehend her. As you heard at her arraignment, she has neither regret nor shame for committing twenty-three horrific, violent murders.” A muffled hum rippled through the courtroom at the almost vicious way that Darrow delivered that claim. “As you will see, the facts are brutal, but they are crystal clear. Aelin Galathynius—or Celaena Sardothien, if you wish—is guilty of every crime of which she is accused, and your finding on this matter will determine whether she continues to ravage our streets, or whether she is no longer a threat to our peace and safety.” Darrow thanked the jury, turned sharply on his heel, and returned to his seat. 

He hadn’t once looked at Aelin. 

“The defense may approach for opening statements,” Malakai said. Ansel stood up smoothly, and unlike Darrow, she nodded civilly in the prosecution’s direction before she approached the bench. 

“Your Honor, esteemed jurors, and all present: Aelin Galathynius did indeed enter a guilty plea to the charge of murder in the first degree. I ask you now, does one plea entered during arraignment truly sway your opinions so severely? The charges leveled against my client are many and widely varied, as if my esteemed opposing counsel saw the opportunity to stack the odds against my client given the circumstances of her arrest. During this trial, you will see a stack of evidence that is shocking and may very well be called horrific, and you will watch the prosecution’s evidence stack up, brick by brick, against my client. I ask only that you consider the story in its fullness. It is known that Celaena Sardothien is called the Shadow Assassin, and it is true that she admitted her guilt in committing murder. You will find, I believe, that there is a motive behind this plea. Contrary to what my opposing counsel will attempt to prove, Aelin Galathynius—or Celaena Sardothien, if you wish—acted in a way that conformed to her guiding principle of ridding the world of cruel, vile criminals. Ms. Galathynius is not what her opposition makes her out to be, and the facts presented to you will prove it. Thank you.” Ansel returned to her seat.

“Very well.” Malakai tapped his gavel on the bench. “The prosecution may call their first witness.” 

Darrow leaned into his microphone. “I call Lieutenant Rowan Whitethorn to the stand.”  

Aelin’s heartbeat stuttered, but she forced herself to remain calm. Sooner or later, she would have had to face Rowan’s testimony. Perhaps it was better that she had to face him first. 

His face an impassive blank, Rowan walked calmly up to the witness stand, was sworn in, and sat down. He folded his hands atop the small desk and looked coolly at Darrow, who nodded slightly and picked up a yellow legal pad. 

“Lieutenant,” Darrow began. “When did you first become involved with this case?” 

“At the end of January,” Rowan replied. “I was placed on this assignment in January.” 

“So it has been ten months?” 

“Yes.” 

Darrow nodded. “When was the accused arrested?” 

“September twenty-seventh.” 

“Can you inform the court of the circumstances leading up to the arrest?” 

Rowan’s throat bobbed. “It was no different than any standard arrest. The accused complied with the proceedings. Leading up to the arrest, I had made final confirmation that the suspect matched the available data, and I couldn’t in good conscience allow such a dangerous criminal to remain unchecked.” 

“What do you mean by ‘final confirmation?’” Darrow asked. 

“Visuals,” Rowan said. “From the existing visual evidence, I was able to confirm that the accused matches the physical description of the person we were looking for.” 

“You said that the accused complied with the proceedings. Was there any reason to suspect that she otherwise would not have done so?” 

Ansel leaned into her microphone. “Objection, Your Honor. The prosecution’s question calls for speculation on the part of the witness.” 

“Sustained.” Malakai glanced at Darrow. “Please refrain from theoretical questions.” 

Darrow’s lips tightened a fraction, but he pressed on. “Very well. I withdraw the question. Lieutenant, will you please summarize the evidence that led to Ms. Galathynius’s arrest?” 

“Of course.” Rowan steepled his fingers and kept his gaze neutral, focused on his attorney. “I began to suspect that the homicide case that I was placed on was connected to a series of other homicides shortly after I came to work with the Orynth Police Department. From comparison of the images taken at the various scenes, it was clear that the M.O. of the perpetrator was consistent across each of the cases, and it was clear that we were looking at a complex, carefully crafted plan.” He gestured to the screen facing the jury. “Exhibits A1 through A23 are the official crime scene photos of each victim.” 

Gasps rippled through the courtroom, a muted wave of mingled shock, disgust, and terror. 

Rowan continued. “Additionally, it was known that a criminal called the ‘Shadow Assassin’ was at large in Orynth. While this person was initially unknown, I discovered that her name was Celaena Sardothien, and once I had the name, I was able to pursue a more specific course of investigation. It became clear rather quickly that there was a connection between the criminal and Galathynius, Inc., since the majority of the victims were either directly or tangentially connected to that company. At first, I suspected that Sardothien was using the company’s prestige against its CEO, perhaps threatening to carry out destruction if Ms. Galathynius didn’t allow her to commit her crimes, but there was a crucial slip-up.” He pointed to the screen. “Exhibit B: security footage taken from outside Orynth PD Headquarters on July sixth. The image depicts Celaena Sardothien.” 

A slightly blurry photo appeared on the screen, a zoomed-in image of Aelin caught in that single split second when her shirt had slipped, revealing a slice of her characteristic back tattoo. 

Fuck.

Rowan had placed his own cameras at PD. 

She murmured that discovery to Ansel, who quickly scribbled it down. Aelin wondered why her lawyer thought that was so important, but she brushed it aside and turned her focus back to Rowan’s testimony, her heart turning ever more leaden with each step he laid out. 

“Further research confirmed that Aelin Galathynius was an exact physical match for the criminal known as Celaena Sardothien, and during the process of interviewing Ms. Galathynius as a standard part of the investigation, I obtained voice recordings.” Aelin tuned out the next few minutes of Rowan’s speech, as he proceeded through events that she knew all too well. 

Darrow interrupted. “Lieutenant, when did you confirm that the two identities were in fact one?” 

“When I called Sardothien from Fenrys’s phone.” An edge of muted grief shadowed Rowan’s words. “There was a filter in place, but I was able to reverse it and discover that Sardothien’s voice was in fact Aelin Galathynius’s voice. After that, it was only a matter of obtaining the proper warrants and proceeding with the arrest.” 

“Thank you.” Darrow returned to his seat. “No further questions.” 

Malakai gestured to Ansel. “The defense may cross-examine.” 

Ansel rose, walked onto the floor, and placed herself halfway between the witness stand and the judge’s seat. She folded her hands behind her back, looked silently at Rowan for a moment, and then, calmly, she spoke. “Lieutenant Whitethorn, from what camera did you obtain the image presented as  Exhibit B?” 

“A security camera that was placed on Orynth PD’s property.” 

“Who placed that camera?” 

For the first time, uncertainty flickered briefly across Rowan’s face. “I did.” 

“According to the proper procedure and with the approval of the police department, yes?” Ansel asked, and Aelin could practically smell blood in the air. 

Rowan’s jaw clenched just a smidge. “No.”

“Please elaborate.” 

“In the interest of the investigation, I thought it best to bypass the bureaucracy of the police department and place a single security camera that connected directly to my phone. That was the camera that caught the image in Exhibit B.” Even as he spoke, Rowan seemed to know he was admitting too much. 

“So the image was captured on an unauthorized device?” 

“Yes.”

Ansel shifted her attention to the judge. “Your Honor, on account of the image being obtained from an unauthorized device, I move that this piece of evidence be dismissed.” 

“I object!” Darrow snapped, the first sign of heightened emotion Aelin had seen from the unflappable man. “The defense is trying to misdirect the jury by singling out one key piece of evidence.” 

“All key pieces of evidence must come from properly authorized sources,” Ansel replied. “Given that this image did not, its importance to the witness’s argument should not outweigh due process.” 

Darrow stared hard at Ansel. “It is misdirection, Your Honor.” 

“Enough.” Malakai looked over at Rowan. “Lieutenant Whitethorn, did you knowingly ignore police department procedure in placing this security camera?”

Rowan’s jaw clenched. “Yes,” he said tightly. 

“Then the evidence cannot be admitted.” Malakai rapped his gavel. “Let the record show that Exhibit B is hereby dismissed from the case.” He nodded to Ansel. “You may continue.” 

“Thank you.” Ansel turned back towards Rowan. “Where were you at the time that you arrested Ms. Galathynius?” 

“I was at my home.” 

“You arrested Ms. Galathynius at your home?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why was Ms. Galathynius at your home, and for how long had she been there?” 

A muscle ticked in the corner of Rowan’s mouth. “She had been at my home since the previous evening, when I had invited her to come over.” 

“For what purpose?” Ansel was relentless. 

“Objection, Your Honor.” Darrow cut in. “This line of questioning is irrelevant.”  

Malakai raised one eyebrow. “Overruled. The defense is merely trying to determine the exact circumstances of her client’s arrest. You may answer the question, Lieutenant Whitethorn.” 

Rowan swallowed. Hard. “Ms. Galathynius was at my home for…for a date.” 

“Were you dating Ms. Galathynius?” 

“Yes.” 

Shock rippled through the courtroom again, and Aelin forced herself to remain still although she wanted to squirm underneath the new layer of scrutiny. Ansel allowed the ripple of gasps to settle down. 

“No further questions.” She took her seat. 

Darrow returned for redirection, and when he was finished, Rowan was finally allowed to leave the witness stand. Despite her best efforts, Aelin couldn’t keep her gaze from briefly hovering on Rowan’s form as he descended from the stand and returned to his seat, and she noted the tension coiled in his muscles, the faint sheen of sweat beaded across his forehead, clear signs of how heavily the trial was weighing on him. 

She hated how her heart cracked for him in that moment. 

“The prosecution calls—” 

Malakai’s gavel interrupted Darrow before he could call his next witness. “Unfortunately, Mr. Darrow, we are past time for today. Court is adjourned until tomorrow.” He rapped on the bench. “We will reconvene promptly at nine o’clock.” 

As the handful of spectators, the jury, and the witnesses began to file out of the courtroom, Aelin rose from her seat and followed Ansel out a side door, where a pair of TSF soldiers were waiting to escort her back to her car. She was quiet for the duration of the short drive, and she tucked her head down as she left the vehicle and went into her apartment building, hiding her face from the ravenous cameras clustered around the building’s entrance. Bright blue flashes assaulted her, and she gritted her teeth and walked as fast as she could into the building, sighing in gratitude when the elevator doors closed behind her and blocked out the flashes, the voices, the clamor. At her door, she nodded in thanks to the guards, who nodded back and stationed themselves outside in the hallway. Gav had given them instructions to be extra vigilant for the next few weeks, since it was more than likely that the press and the paparazzi would try every trick in the book to catch footage of Aelin Galathynius during her trial. 

Fucking vultures. 

A bright green sticky note on the fridge caught her attention—a reminder, scribbled in Gav’s familiar sloppy scrawl, that she needed to eat dinner. Smiling faintly for the first time that day, Aelin grabbed a random container of leftovers from the fridge, heated it up, and ate almost mindlessly, hardly tasting the warm, comforting flavors of the soup. Sleep fought her that night, as she suspected it would, and it took a double dose of her sleeping medicine for her mind to finally, finally quiet down enough to allow her to slip into fitful, restless half-dreams. 

~

“The prosecution calls Ms. Elide Lochan to the stand.” If possible, Aelin’s heart slowed even further than it had when Darrow called on Rowan, and she had to grip the edge of her seat beneath the desk to keep herself upright. Stiletto heels rapped smartly on the floorboards as Elide strode to the witness stand, was sworn in, and seated herself. She faced Darrow without a shred of emotion on her face, and although her heart pounded, Aelin had nothing but admiration for her dear friend. 

“Ms. Lochan.” Darrow stood up and began to slowly stroll back and forth across the floor. “What is your role at Galathynius, Inc.?” 

“I serve as the Chief Executive Officer,” Elide said calmly. 

Darrow raised a brow. “Is that not Ms. Galathynius’s role?” 

“It was.” 

“What was your role prior to CEO?”

“I was the Chief Operations Officer.” Elide was answering Darrow’s questions as concisely as possible, and Aelin could tell it was irritating the man. 

“How did you rise from COO to CEO?” 

“Ms. Galathynius stepped down from the CEO position, and my contract of employment states that if she were ever to do so, I would assume the CEO role in her stead. So I did.” 

“When did this take place?” 

“Near the end of September, around the time Ms. Galathynius was arrested.” 

“Were her arrest and your promotion related in any way?” 

“Objection,” Ansel interjected. “Speculation.” 

“Overruled,” Malakai said. “Given the events’ proximity in time, Mr. Darrow’s question is warranted. You may answer, Ms. Lochan.” 

Elide’s calm expression didn’t even flutter. “Yes. Ms. Galathynius stepped down in relation to her arrest on criminal charges.” 

“Why would she do so?” 

“Objection,” Ansel repeated. “Speculation. The prosecution’s question is better suited for examination of Ms. Galathynius.” 

“Sustained.” Malakai looked over at Darrow. “The question is withdrawn. You may continue.” 

Darrow frowned slightly. “Ms. Lochan, how long have you worked at Galathynius, Inc.?” 

“Five years and two months,” Elide replied. 

“For how many of those years did you work closely with Ms. Galathynius?” 

Elide canted her head a bit. “Ms. Galathynius was closely involved with all of her employees regardless of the role she held. I worked at a similar level to hers for three years, but one might say I worked ‘closely’ with her since the day I started at her company.” 

“During that time, did you ever observe Ms. Galathynius to exhibit any behavior that a reasonable person would call suspicious?” 

“Objection, Your Honor.” Ansel’s interruption was neutrally spoken. “The question is too vague and broad in scale.” 

“It is not,” Darrow contested. “The reasonable-person standard provides specificity.” 

“Not enough,” Ansel returned. 

Malakai rapped on the bench. “Sustained.” His tone turned just a shade more stern. “Please ask a more tailored question, counsel.” 

“Very well.” Darrow’s lips thinned. “Ms. Lochan, were there any particular times when you observed Ms. Galathynius to act in a suspicious way?” 

“No,” Elide said calmly. “During my time working with her, Ms. Galathynius demonstrated professional conduct at all times.” 

“What about outside of work?” 

“I am not certain what you are asking me, Mr. Darrow.” 

The muscle at the corner of Darrow’s jaw twitched in irritation. “Did you maintain a friendship with Ms. Galathynius outside of work?” 

“Yes.” 

“Outside of work, did you find that she maintained professional conduct?” 

“I believe the term ‘professional’ applies to conduct within the context of work,” Elide replied. “In the interest of these proceedings, however, I will answer your question—yes.” 

“So you were unaware that she is Celaena Sardothien?” 

“Objection,” Ansel called. “The prosecution is leading the witness.” 

“I am simply following the logical proceeding of thought,” Darrow argued. 

Ansel raised a brow, but before she could reply, Malakai cut in. “Overruled. The witness may answer the question.” 

Elide fixed Darrow with an impressively blank look. “Everyone in this courtroom knows that Ms. Galathynius is Celaena Sardothien, since that was already revealed by Lieutenant Whitethorn.” 

“Ms. Lochan,” Darrow’s tone was tight, his composure fraying. “Did you have prior knowledge that Aelin Galathynius and Celaena Sardothien are the same person?” 

“No.” 

“Did you ever suspect that Celaena Sardothien’s activities affected Galathynius, Incorporated?” 

“No.” 

Darrow’s lips were pressed into a flat line when he sat back down. “No further questions.” 

Malakai gestured to Ansel. “The defense may cross-examine.” 

Ansel stood up and folded her hands behind her back. “Ms. Lochan, how long have you known Ms. Galathynius?” 

“Ten years.” Elide gave Ansel the same concise answers she’d given to Darrow. 

“When did you first begin working at Galathynius, Inc.?” 

“Just over five years ago, immediately after I graduated university.” 

“Can you give a brief description of your acquaintance with Ms. Galathynius, particularly regarding her personality?” 

“Objection,” Darrow cut in. “The question is irrelevant.” 

“The question is perfectly relevant, as we are trying to determine the character of the accused,” Ansel replied. 

Malakai tapped on the bench. “Overruled. Ms. Lochan may answer the question.” 

Elide calmly canted her head slightly to the side. “In the decade of our acquaintance, Ms. Galathynius has been consistently well-organized, personable, and wholly dedicated both to her work and to the people with whom she is close. I have not known her to exhibit any erratic tendencies.” 

“Thank you, Ms. Lochan.” Ansel returned to her seat. “No further questions.” 

Darrow declined to redirect, and Elide was allowed to leave the witness stand. For the slightest bit of a second, she met Aelin’s eyes, then turned her composed stare back out across the courtroom. Since she was under oath, Elide had been completely honest, but her testimony had been carefully crafted and craftily spoken. Her composure, her standing at the company, and her willingness to be a witness for the prosecution had cleared her of any vague suspicion they might have had over her involvement with Aelin, with Celaena. Plus, Elide had not been part of the Boss’s crew for months, both to provide a waterproof alibi and to protect the company. 

And, now that she was out of suspicion, she could set the next stage of the plan into motion. 

Frustrated with how Elide’s testimony had gone, Darrow pulled one of his trump cards. “The prosecution calls Aelin Ashryver Galathynius to the stand.” 

Malakai raised a brow. “Counsel, you are aware that you may only call the accused once, as you are not the defense attorney, yes?” 

“I am aware.” Darrow exchanged a look and a barely perceptible nod with Rowan. “I call Ms. Galathynius to the stand.” 

Aelin rose and crossed the courtroom floor, her polished black stiletto heels clicking rhythmically against the hardwood. She knew she looked the part of the ruthless crime boss in her crimson satin blouse, black trousers and blazer, and scarlet lipstick, and she knew the two cameras were watching. Good. Let them watch. Let them capture the images, the recordings, the footage of the Shadow Assassin’s first day of testimony. 

Let them hear the truth. 

“Ms. Galathynius,” Malakai asked as she seated herself, “do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?” 

Aelin lifted her right hand. “I so swear.” 

Malakai nodded, and Darrow approached the witness stand. Unlike earlier, he did not pace the width of the floor, but contained himself to a six-foot path in front of the witness stand, probably in some misguided attempt to intimidate her. “Ms. Galathynius, where were you on the night of September the twenty-seventh?” 

“I was in my apartment on house arrest, guarded by two members of the Special Forces.” 

“On what charges were you arrested?” 

“If I recall correctly,” Aelin drawled, “the officer who arrested me recounted them as, and I quote, ‘more crimes than I can possibly enumerate.’” Across the courtroom, Rowan inhaled sharply, his body coiling with tension. 

“What were those charges?” 

“Do you really not remember them, Attorney Darrow? The honored judge recounted them just recently.” 

Darrow scowled. “Ms. Galathynius—or would you prefer Sardothien?” 

“Either is fine.” 

“Celaena, then.” He shot her a grimly triumphant look, as if referring to her by her shadow identity was a major win for him. “Did you kill twenty-three people?” 

“I’ve already pled guilty to the charge of first-degree murder, Counsel.” She took a shallow breath, darting a sideways glance to Malakai to gauge his reaction. “Yes. I did.” 

“The bodies of each victim were tortured in almost uniform fashion.” Darrow clicked the remote in his hand, and the images of each victim once again projected onto the screen. “What is the purpose of torturing a man before his death, Celaena?” 

Aelin raised a brow. “A seasoned torturer might say that the torture proves a point. Perhaps, in some cases, a clean death is not what was deserved.” 

“You are a seasoned torturer, Celaena Sardothien,” Darrow practically spat. “Why did you torture the victims before you killed them?” 

“When did you conclude that I was the torturer, Mr. Darrow?” 

“Lieutenant Whitethorn’s testimony concluded that the modus operandi of each torture case and each murder were identical, meaning there could only be one killer. I ask you again, why did you torture them? If not in general, why did you torture any one victim in particular?” 

“I repeat, a torturer might say that the victim deserved it for his crimes.” 

Darrow clicked to the slide of Arobynn’s mutilated body. “Fine. Why was Arobynn Hamel tortured before his murder?” 

Fire sparked in Aelin’s gaze. “Look me in the eyes, Counsel, and tell me to my face that Arobynn Hamel—internationally wanted gangster, drug smuggler, murderer, and child trafficker—deserved to live to a ripe old age and die of natural causes.”

The courtroom went eerily silent, the hush only broken by the click of the journalist’s camera. 

“Then you admit to Hamel’s torture and murder?” Darrow pressed. 

Aelin laughed caustically, the sound short and sharp. “If I hadn’t ended Hamel’s worthless existence, another shadow would have. Shitbags like that don’t get to continue living.” 

“What about the other twenty-two you killed?” 

“Those murders have not been traced to anyone yet, Counsel.” Aelin caught Ansel’s glare and reined in her temper. 

“And what about the torture?” 

“What about it?” Aelin turned the question right back on Darrow.

He scowled. “Are you physically capable of wielding weapons of torture?” 

“I am, as is anyone here. ‘Weapons of torture’ is a very broad term.” 

Darrow clicked to an image of Tern’s battered corpse. “Did you induce the wounds on this man’s body?” 

“No.” 

Gasps rippled through the courtroom; even Darrow’s jaw slackened for a moment. He forced his composure back onto his face. “Lieutenant Whitethorn reported that the modus operandi of each victim’s torture and death was identical, and you pled guilty to the crime of murder. If you did not induce the wounds on this man’s body, who did?” 

“As you may already suspect, I have people who work for me. They call me Boss,” Aelin said dryly. “Perhaps I was not clear, though. I did induce one wound on that man’s body.” 

“Which one?” 

“The fatal one.” 

“What was the fatal wound?” 

“Objection,” Ansel interjected. “The question is better suited for the medical examiner.” 

“Sustained.” Malakai tapped on the bench. “Next question, Counsel.” 

Darrow exhaled sharply and flipped through his notes. “Fine. Where were you on the night of January twenty-seventh, then?” 

“I was at my apartment.” 

“Did you leave your apartment at any point in that day or night?” 

“No. I was not working, and I decided to have a quiet night at home.” 

Darrow scoffed. “We have the footage from your building’s security cameras from that night.” He clicked his remote. “This footage clearly shows that you left your apartment to…go up to the rooftop balcony…and returned to your…” Somewhat sheepish, he trailed off. “I, ah, I recant the question. Ms. Galathynius was clearly at her apartment building for the time period stated.” 

Ansel didn’t miss a beat. “Your Honor, in light of this evidence, I move that the charge of arson be dropped, as there is no extant evidence that conclusively links my client to the fire of that night.” 

Darrow stayed silent, and Malakai nodded shortly. “Very well. In the absence of evidence, the charge of arson is hereby dropped. Mr. Darrow, you may continue.” 

“Do you recognize this?” Darrow clicked his remote and brought up an image of a tiny, slightly jagged scrap of black mesh-like fabric sitting in a glass examination disc. 

Aelin inhaled tightly. You cannot lie to the court. “Yes.” 

“What is this?” 

“That is a scrap of an experimental fabric that I was attempting to develop.” 

“What did that fabric do?” 

“It was intended to resist all possible damage—heat, fire, tearing, water damage, and all that—but clearly it failed, since that appears to have been torn from a larger sample piece.” 

“Are you still working on this fabric?” 

“No. I abandoned that project months ago as a lost cause. It is apparently impossible to create a fabric that resists all kinds of damage.” 

Darrow made a low humming noise. “Very well. However,” he clicked to the next image, “what is this?” The screen displayed a zoomed-in image of a few opaque, filmlike flecks. 

Aelin squinted at the screen. “I can’t tell from this angle.” 

Obligingly, Darrow rotated the screen so it faced Aelin. “What is this substance?” 

“It is…” Aelin pressed her lips together and forced her heartbeat to calm back down. “A synthetic called SecondSkin.” 

Palpable shock roiled through the courtroom. 

“Why is it called by that name?” Darrow pressed, standing still and fixing a firm stare on her. 

She paused for a few seconds. “It is meant to mimic human skin; however, it lays atop the skin, so it was natural to call it a second skin.” 

“And what purposes does this SecondSkin have?” Victory glinted deep in the prosecutor’s eyes. 

“That would call for some degree of speculation, as this synthetic is still in development,” Aelin replied, calmly. 

Darrow glared. “What purposes did you have in mind when you began development?” 

“Covering damaged skin, potential use as a skin-grafting material, that kind of thing.” She met Darrow’s glare head-on. “Again, it is still in development, so its uses remain largely unknown.” 

“We’ll see about that,” Darrow muttered. “Very well.” He paused and walked a few steps away, then whirled on his heel and stalked back towards the witness stand. “What is your relationship to Lieutenant Whitethorn?” 

Her heart stuttered. 

She drew in a shallow breath. “I was dating him.” Emphasis on was. Across the floor, Rowan sucked in a breath, his body going tense as his eyes shot to hers, grief flashing through their depths before he wrestled his TSF blankness back onto his face. 

“For how long?” 

“We began dating in April, and our relationship ended when he arrested me in September.” Cold, clinical answers, stripped bare of the depth of emotion she longed to let out. 

Darrow smirked. “Did Lieutenant Whitethorn ever suspect you were lying to him?” 

“Objection,” Ansel said coolly. “Speculation.” 

“Sustained.” Malakai flicked Darrow a sharp look. “Next question, Counsel?” 

Darrow frowned, irritated. “Did Lieutenant Whitethorn ever question you in regards to the investigation he was carrying out?” 

“Yes.” 

“How did you answer those questions?” 

Aelin kept her face impassive as she leaned into the microphone, stared flatly at Darrow, and said simply, “With both lies and truth.” Burn in hell, you slimy bastard, she added silently. 

Darrow’s smug smirk returned. “Very well. No further questions.” 

Ansel declined to cross-examine, stating that she would have her chance to directly examine Aelin when the time came, and Aelin was allowed to leave the witness stand. She returned to her seat on steady legs, using every last scrap of her willpower to project calm confidence. 

“You did well,” Ansel murmured as Aelin sat back down.

She bit her lip. "Did I?"

~~~

TAGS (lmk if you want to be added/removed):

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@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

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@silentquartz

@renxzs

@anarchiii

@fauna-flora11

@cynthiesjmxazrielslover

@mysterylilycheeta

[pergaminaa]

Modern au

When asked, Manon would confess that pregnancy wasn't all that great, and she honestly can't understand how some people willingly put themselves through that kind of thing again and again.

The first few weeks were okay; she really didn't think too much of it, and from how things were going she believed it would be smooth sailing. Why were people complaining? Everything is seamless (she really thought she was built different)

A few weeks later, morning sickness began, and with it, Manon's earlier sentiments went out of the window. It was hard and downright brutal. She believes that calling it morning sickness is wrong because it was persistent all day and night long, for days and days and days. Really, it was endless. She was feeling sick most of the time; she wasn't eating and she was tired all the time. During that time there were regular hospital visits because she just kept throwing up and all that dehydration was not good neither does her nor the fetus growing inside of her.

A few weeks later it eased up a little but did not stop. She was still going to the hospital once every few days getting hydrated through an IV because really, her body is not dealing with this at all.

A while later when she was 4-5 months along, she began noticing some spotting. Dorian called the doctor and got them seen almost immediately. Things were okay, they’re baby is doing fine but from that moment on Manon was put on strict bed rest until her daughter was born.

At around the sixth-month mark, Manon was so over being pregnant. "Hate to break it to you, witchling, but you still have three more months to go," Dorian got kicked out of the room that night for his smart remark. But she called him back later on because she was lonely and by that point, she wasn't used to going to sleep without him being there.

It seems that all of her biology lessons in school have evaporated. And she was horrified at finding out some things she was certain she'd remember if she had actually studied them. She honestly didn’t think of what the difference is between giving birth and having a c-section in her mind she was just ‘a baby gets born’ without thinking how that would actually happen (Asterin was the unfortunate soul that discovered this and had to explain it)

'It's not too late to back out from this now, is it?' Asterin only rolled her eyes at her because yeah sure, by all means just stop being pregnant.

Newfound information aside, nothing actually prepared Manon for the grand finale: almost four days of (slow labor) and a little over 30 hours of active labor was all it took for her daughter to be born.

Manon, bless her soul, right in the middle of active labor, (literally her baby is only a few hours away from being born) realized one thing: she wasn’t her ready to become a mother.

The notion terrified her, and she seemed to realize it all of the sudden. She confidently thought that she can stop or try again later (???) but that wasn’t possible for obvious reasons. She wasn’t in pain (thanks to the epidural) but she was terrified. That is something she doesn’t know how to navigate and she was just panicking. She did end up having a panic attack and yeah imagine going through that while giving birth. (She really wasn’t having a good time)

Dorian was right next to her, his presence steadied her somewhat and after a WHILE she finally started listening to him and calmed down enough to focus on the main task.

Honestly the sudden cries kinda distracted her then she realized that her daughter is actually born and it took her a minute to fully realize that it’s all over.

Honestly, she'd rate the experience -10/10 even though her little baby girl is so worth it. She was born a little early (3-4 weeks, nothing too major) and she might have taken over 30 hours but she was out at last.

She won't do this again willingly though. Never.

Manon's both in awe and lowkey wonders of Aelin and Asterin are okay in the head. Her cousin went though this twice (willingly) and Aelin has like four children and Manon just cannot comprehend this.

[scarredpineapple]

I have NO friends that have read this series. NO ONE who has read all 15 books

All I want is people to scream with and make theories about this new cover

But alas…nobody, so I’ve come here 😭

WHAT DO YOU GUYS THINK

[separatist-apologist]

Do you like Elide

From tog

Throne of glass Elide

Elide Lochan

Why do you ask me questions knowing I'm gonna hurt your feelings. Do I like Elide Lochan? No. Not even a little. I kind of liked her when she was locked up in the tower- I thought her cowardice was really interesting and I liked with SJM was doing with her, especially in relation to Manon and the Blueblood...blood.

And then she gets out of the tower and immediately starts up with Lorcan and idc what the haters say, that personality shift was NOT a result of being free for the first time because that whole book is a whiplash of "wait a minute WHAT did they SAY?" (DORIAN) (MANON)

I think my issue with a lot of the characters was whatever SJM planned to do with them in the beginning shifted along the way, and she needed them to do and be different people, but none of it felt earned or organic and Elide was the starkest example of that for ME.

Also I hate to see Lorcan happy

[romanticatheartt]

I'm gonna finish Crown of Midnight tomorrow and I can't wait for Heir of Fire...

Though I will sue all of you if it's not as good as yall rave about it😭

[acourtofquestions]

A silver-haired prince whose very scent was that of home.

[icey--stars]

Omg TELL ME MORE ABOUT BOTH 13 IDEAS RN … please 🥺

first off, i love you. thank you for the excitement XD

okay, the full overview of the idea is to be a sister to aelin or eris. onto the individual things... hehe. just did it in bullet points for my own sanity. (i went overboard, but YOU ASKED! i was having fun XD)

also please nobody steal these ideas without asking 😭 because i really like how unique i made it and i DO want to post it eventually

Aelin's Sister:

first off, she's the older sibling

i actually fully wrote out a timeline for this particular one because i felt like i had to get the ages right and stuff sooo lemme just give you this first off and then go over the points

basically, i named the OC "Aeress" because yes. had to keep the "AE" vibe going.

Aeress is 9 when Aedion is born and 14 when Aelin is born

At the age of 21, however, Aeress basically went missing. She was with her family (mom and dad) in the Whitefang mountains when a tribe attacked.

She was determined to be dead after being missing for an entire month

HOWEVER, the real story is that she was captured.

Here's the actual written version:

“When I was in the White Fang Mountains, just a simple vacation if you remember, sidekick, a wild tribe attacked us. Humans, all of them, but some had ice magic. We defended ourselves and the guards got Mother and Father to safety. However, they didn’t notice me getting grabbed and thrown on the back of a horse, bleeding from my calf that’d been cut.

“They took me, traveling far. I healed myself when I could, but they put me in iron after the leader realized that I was with them. There was no returning me without full blown war, so instead they faked my death. They took me as a war prize and a slave.”

---

“For a year, they kept me in the Ferian Gap, hidden in the tunnels there. They didn’t even notice when I Settled. I was to mine ice for them, and to appease them. It was impossible for me, an untrained idiotic princess, to escape, so I stayed and waited. My chance came soon after when magic fell. I’d been unchained with only iron cuffs on at that moment. I ran in the chaos of the mountains shuddering, to where the witches trained. A mountain in the Omega.”

---

“After that, with magic gone, I was not skilled enough, I felt, to leave the Ferian Gap, and brave Adarlan with the news I spied on from the tribe. I survived off of them for a good six years, unwilling to brave the valleys and predators without my magic and without any skills of survival. I was untrained and very killable at that moment. I did my best with a sword I stole, but… an untrained arm can only do so much. The mining helped slightly, but not enough.

“Anyway, six years later, humans appeared at my little mountain hideout. These were the humans who created and tested out the current wyverns of the witches’. However, I was still a goddamn idiot, so I got captured. I was a prize for the wyverns and they didn’t even know who I was. But they kept me alive, so I lived like that for a little. 3 years or so, which wasn’t that bad. 

“The wyverns were useless for a while, but the humans seemed to not think of me like a slave after a little bit. I was a partner, who helped a little to improve them. Though, I never dared with their dark magic. 

“When the witches came, I escaped. And got captured again, by a Blueblood coven. I was pissed, but I was given as a prize to Petrah, the Blueblood Heir. Quite a nice female, actually. She wasn’t as bloodthirsty as the rest. She knew who I was based on scent, I think, but she never told anyone. 

“I stayed in her room and one day, she decided to teach me to fight. I learned later it was because of a foolish hope beginning in her heart. Of freedom. Then she taught me to ride wyverns, showing me in secret the beauty of a wyvern. One day, during the day of the games where the covens fought for Wing Leader, I tamed my own wyvern. His name is Ryder. Pitch black, small-sized male who was fast. Perfect for what I needed. 

“When the Yellowlegs witches went to Morath, I followed. I blended in quite well, actually. I could pretend to be a servant to the witches and a witch to the humans who knew none the better. When they flew for Adarlan, I escaped. I flew for Terrasen.

“From there, I supported the war as a healer,” I finished. “Took some time to build enough courage to see you, but I wanted to make sure I didn’t compromise your position on the throne, little flame. You deserved to rule. More than I ever did. I know a little about your history as an assassin, and I know you knew how to fight. How to lead, when I heard of your court. And I knew Terrasen was in good hands. I can offer you advice for the finer tuned things of ruling, but leadership was never my forte.” ("you" refers to Aelin)

So basically, that's that. that's how I inputted an older sister into the mix

HOWEVER! Aeress is the exact reflection of Aelin in power. She has majority water (like SUPER powerful) and a tiny bit of flame. Barely a candle light.

This is also where I inputted a very cool concept: the reflection of the powers means that if either of them died, they would've known because the little tiny bit of the power (aelin's water, aeress's fire) would go to the other sister. my previous-self explained it better so here:

“I knew, Aelin. I knew you were alive. I knew because of the goddamn magic in our veins. The small bits of our magic that we can barely use… the water piece you have… if it had come to me, I would’ve known.”

“But magic-”

“That feeling transcends magic being gone,” I cut her off. “It is a deep feeling, of something being lost and gained at the same time. It is rare for any fae to feel, but sometimes, when the magic is reflected, it happens.”

however, some cute things I think you'll appreciate are the NICKNAMES!!

Aeress calls Aelin "little flame" BECAUSE AWWW

And she calls Aedion "sidekick" while he calls her "Queen Bee"

And also like Aeress and Rowan actually get along so well

Aeress is kinda like Aedion in that way and saw Rowan as this powerful ancient fae warrior and is very surprised to find him to be quite chill. she's nervous at first and basically is like "Rowan, if you don't want your mate doing this then just tell me... I'll get away right now-"

but Rowan, at the end of what I actually have written (it is not being finished considering it has no plot XD), basically ends up making them siblings. brother-sister bonds!!

Also Ryder is the cutest wyvern of all time- the one that Aeress gets. pitch black, small, but fast and agile as hell. but he's quite literally a teddy bear. he likes cuddling. he's a ferocious beast who cuddles.

anyway let's stop talking about aelin's sister and get onto ERIS'S TWIN!

Eris's Twin Sister:

I wrote the most for this part, but I have the least amount of worldbuilding for it.

basically, it's a secret twin thing.

please note that "Merle" is the Lady of Autumn!!

“When I was young, I was married off to Beron Vanserra. I was soon pregnant with my first child. But what the healers told me only days before the birth was that there… I had twins. Fraternal twins. They didn’t tell me out of fear before then, but I knew right then and there, that I had to save them. Get them out of the Forest House. Both of them, if I could manage.

“Beron wanted the genders, so I told him one. It was a male. When I gave birth, I kept Beron out for a few days while I recovered. Long enough that he was antsy. I… I gave him the male because he’d wanted a son and winnowed the female to an old friend’s barn and left it, content with wards of warmth and a pacifier.”

Basically, that "old friend" is named Martha and raised Seraphine (OC for THIS one XD. nickname = Sera).

BUT... then Eris kills Beron. And the magic doesn't go to him and he goes on a hunt to find it.

Seraphine, however, has found herself bowled over and now with double the amount of power she had previously.

Now, mind you, she's quite ADHD, so she's not super confident, but she's stubborn as fuck.

Eris promises to help her as much as he can because he's ACTUALLY a good bro and doesn't want to make the same mistake with Sera as he did with his brothers.

Eris helps her get settled in, and Sera manages the court basically by signing random shit and having him help her because surprisingly, their goals align. like making the poor less poor

Sera has a lot of the skills required to be a High Lady, like writing, so luckily, she's quite good at what she's doing.

Eventually, because Sera is very forgetful and disorganized, they get an assistant, an older nanny figure who basically helps manage Sera's day so she doesn't get overwhelmed.

BUT! hehehe... Eris and Sera want an alliance with the Night Court.

The NC doesn't want her to die before their meeting, so they send Az to basically secretly protect her.

however... Azris is canon in this universe. Seraphine gets jump scared by Az because Eris basically wants to make sure that she knows the plan. and that plan is to reveal their mate bond at the meal >:)

Honestly, the NC is pretty chill about Seraphine. Sure, she's nervous, but everyone's pretty chill.

Rhys tries to read her mind one time cus he's suspicious, but they move past it. (Sera can shield her mind well) honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if Rhys would be scared in that moment.

Azris revealed... WOOOPEEE.

Anyway, that's basically that besides me quite literally just going off on an Azris spree and writing a wedding/mating bond scene 🤦

I went overboard, but honestly, these might be full-on wips probably never to be posted, but they're so much fun to tell you about.

thank you for the ask my beautiful anon. i love you.

[ladyylesbian]

I truly don’t think a day will go by ever again that I don’t think of Aelin. She’s placed herself as an all time favorite character so quickly, so easily

[dontfrickwithmyfood]

Some TOG hot takes now that I’ve finished the series:

1) Aedion and Chaol are my favorite male characters

2) top 3 ships are Chaol x Yrene, Nesryn x Sartaq, and Elide x Lorcan

3) The Southern Continent was infinitely more interesting than any other setting, and it’s a damn shame we only got 1 book dedicated to it/featuring it.

4) Tower of Dawn fucking rocks what is wrong with y’all

I’ll probably come up with more later ✌🏽

[insomnya777]

any throne of glass fans out there??

[pergaminaa]

modern au is basically Aelin bullying Dorian through his kid until said kid was old enough to lowkey bully her in turn (unintentionally)

[thegirlinthetardisat221b]

I am once again hit by how much 'Inkpot Gods' is an Aelin and Dorian song

[longsightmyth]

Do you want a Nehemia/Celeana future snippet of course you do have my deeply fucked up lesbians I GUESS

Spoilers probably?

“Aelin,” Nehemia said softly.

“Aelin Galathynius is dead,” Celaena said as if by rote, and finally looked up at Nehemia, raising a hand only to drop it. “I am Celaena Sardothien, and I am a monster.”

Nehemia didn't have it in her to disagree. The empty field before that had held an army would have made her a liar: there had been people, an uncountable number, and now there was only ash, swirling in some parody of snow. The woman at her feet looked emptied out and hollow, as if everything had been scraped out of her by an uncaring hand, only the hand had been Nehemia’s and Nehemia cared very much. Celaena had done this for her. She wouldn't have done it for anyone else.

Nehemia sighed and crouched down, Celaena’s eyes following her the whole way down, and since Celaena had dropped her hand Nehemia stretched her own out, stroking Celaena’s cheek. She didn't know what else to do. She couldn't be sad. She couldn't even say she was sorry, for all she wished she had thought of a better solution first. Adarlan had come to hurt her people, and Celaena had stopped them for her.

“My monster,” Nehemia said. “Nobody else’s.”

Celaena’s hands closed convulsively, one over Nehemia’s on her cheek and the other in the fine layer of ash that still fell. “Yours,” she promised.