Recap:

Aelin woke up in the salt mines of Endovier after the events of the Empire of Storms finale. She initially believes it is another illusion from Maeve, as the events of thrones of glass' first chapter unfold. Dorian and Chaol don't recognise her. She believes she's been sent alone to the past, and struggles with that as they make their way to Adarlan.

However, Rowan has also woken up in the past. He makes his way to Rifthold and finds Aelin there, having a reunion. Chaol and Dorian disapprove of their affair, mainly due to distrust of Aelin because of their lack of relationship with her. They meet Kaltain, and also Nehemia who subtly reveals that she remembers that past life as well.

They don't have the chance to talk more with Dorian crashing the lunch date, and Nehemia having to decline.

This chapter picks up where we left off, a few days after meeting Nehemia and their lunch/dinner.

Hope you enjoy the new chapter, sorry it took so long! I lost a bit of motivation, but I always planned to continue. There's a story map and everything.

Aelin was exhausted.

Her body - old, new, familiar - was weak.

Her muscles protested, her bones shook, her ankles threatening to buckle with each step. The air in her lungs burned with each exhale.

And still, she continued. They continued.

They had already run a few miles - still only barely halfway through the route. Rowan kept a steady pace beside her and she knew as soon as they finished he would attempt to convince her to go back inside and let her body heal. This body had spent a year in the slave mines. Her mind had spent months (Years? Days? She didn't know how long - time had passed like molasses) with Maeve.

But time was a luxury they could not afford.

When they finished running, they would spar. And when Rowan refused to spar any longer, she would push herself to do pull-ups or fight an imaginary foe. Her muscles would burn and break and build themselves stronger. There was too much to be done, too much to risk losing over some physical pain.

Each slam of her foot on the unforgiving soil rang through her entire body, her ribs felt like they clattered together with every movement.

Good. She wanted to feel the pain.

Aelin used it to motivate herself, used it to push herself farther faster, revelling in the pain that meant progress. That meant she had survived.

Rowan kept up next to her, faint traces of sweat gathering on his forehead. The night of the dinner - a few days ago now - had done so much to convince Dorian that Rowan's friendship was harmless and shallow. Dorian, for all his confidence, hadn't known what to do at the implication of Rowan's heavily implied affair with his champion. He had looked disapproving, and Aelin couldn't help the smirk that tugged on her lips at his defence of an unknown wife. The meal had been fairly short - they had eaten quickly. Dorian had made sure to eat as fast as was polite, and Rowan too had been reluctant to linger on the meal. Their opportunity to talk - really talk - had been all but destroyed by Dorian's presence. Earlier that week, he had confronted her about the affair.

"He has a wife, Celaena," He had frowned, walking her back from the library.

"He does." She had agreed.

"He's from Wendlyn - what do you expect -"

"Expect?" She had arched an eyebrow, encompassing Celaena. "I expect only his companionship - all the better that he will leave soon."

Dorian had looked at her, in that way that he always seemed too. As if he could see right through her.

"As long as you know not to get too - attached."

Dorian had, of course, been referring to the meal.

Rowan had steered the conversation towards diplomacy and Adarlans stance - more specifically to Dorian's stance - on issues. They had brought up Nehemia. Of the fate of many people there. And Calculla and Endovier. Of the slaves who still suffered there. Dorian had defended himself, his face going grave. He had changed the subject quickly, uncomfortably - had wavered even then, when he was still loyal to his father. Aelin knew she only needed to wait a few weeks more, for magic to find its way back to Dorian This time she could teach him. Rowan could help him control. But right now, Dorian was still clutching on the idea that the King was good - and he had been, Dorian's father. But that Valg was not him.

Dorian was prejudiced now too. She had seen how his gaze caught on Rowan's ears. How everyone's had - Chaol, the guards, even Kaltain.

Her feet stumbled for a second. Rowan's arm beside her went out, catching her elbow before retreating.

"We need to talk about Kaltain, " it came out breathless, catching Rowan off guard.

"She was key to everything, without her..." Rowan grimaced. The bastard was barely out of breath.

She heard what he was not saying. Without Kaltain they wouldn't have found the key- she had destroyed a huge chunk of Erawans forces, had stopped him from breeding an army of monsters. but -

"We can't let her go to Erawan - what she went through - " Her legs burned with each push forward.

"No of course not, but do we have another option?" Rowan's hands caught her own, pulling her back, slowing her down to a walk.

"Elide's still there," Aelin whispered.

Elide. The daughter of the woman who had given her life to save Aelin's, one of the countless people she had failed. Brave and loyal Elide.

Rowan twisted his fingers through hers.

"We can do this, Fireheart,"

"There are so many different things, all of them so connected, if we mess up even one-" Her feet slowed finally until they came to a stop. She would not abandon Elide again. She could not. "I won't leave her there for another year, Rowan, I can't do that to her-"

Rowan used their linked hands to tug her closer to him until she had her forehead pressed against his chest and their hands trapped between them.

If she could just abandon this farce - leave and go to Morath-

When she looked up at him, Rowan looked like he understood. What else could they do?

"Attack Morath? It will change everything, Aelin."

And it would. With Elide out of Morath - with the base destroyed, they'd be giving away a lot, provoking retaliation.

"Isn't that what we're here for? To change everything?" She asked, and it wasn't entirely rhetorical. What were they here for? Who had come back with them? She longed to find Nehemia alone but Dorian had been keeping an ever-closer eye on her.

Rowan frowned.

"It'll have to be blown up." He said, his thumb flexing in her hand.

"We're not ready," Aelin stepped back slightly. "Look at me! This body can't handle being human nevermind fae." Rowan unlinked their hands and wound them around her waist, pulling her back in.

"But we will be. You will stay here, heal, protect Nehemia."

Aelin looked at him, her face sweaty, her muscles screaming in pain even now.

"When will you go?"

"After the first challenge," He said. "It'll give me some time to fake a letter summoning me back to Wendlyn for a required check-in,"

"And you'll bring Elide back to me."

"I will. And what of Lysandra?"

"I love her," Aelin said, "And she deserves so much more from me. But I will not make that choice for her. I will go to her, as myself, and whatever she chooses I will stand by her,"

"She won't hide, Aelin."

"Nobody I love makes it easy for me to protect them," She said wryly. She stepped out of his embrace reluctantly and positioned her body into the sparring stance.

Aelin faced Rowan and then punched out a fist towards his stomach. He dodged, responding with a low sweeping kick, which Aelin jumped over.

"We keep each other safe, Aelin. That's what family does," His smile was sad, but there.

It was challenging, to say the least. Aelin and Rowan didn't get much of an opportunity to talk beyond their morning runs, and even that had been hijacked after the first few mornings. Chaol had joined them reluctantly, letting slip that it had been on Dorian's suggestion after the second morning he had silently run beside them. And every meeting with Nehemia had been infuriatingly supervised by Dorian, who had taken the time to brush up on his Elywe. Between the combined efforts of both Dorian and Chaol, concerned at her blossoming friendships - Aelin hadn't been able to discuss the plan for Morath beyond the few short veiled suggestions slipped into flirty conversations. Rowan, she learned one morning, had received a letter from his cousin (he hadn't). And although he assured her he would be back soon, he feared he would have to leave near the end of the month for a few weeks.

Chaol had read between the lines as they hoped he would, and mentioned it to Dorian - who had then brought it up to Rowan when he crashed their dinner later.

"Yes," Rowan had said looking convincingly irritated, "I may be needed at home for a few days - it is unsure now, of course,"

"Any problem I can help with?" Dorian has asked, digging for information.

Rowan was good at speaking without speaking, and despite their chaperoned times, his presence had the astounding effect of grounding and motivating her. He had manoeuvred the conversation deftly, digging up his rusty skill talking in court from his youth. By feeding Dorian false information, he was able to let her know that he planned to leave in a week, to gather supplies for the trip and devise a plan for the return journey. Shortly after, Rowan had been ushered out with Dorian and she had considered leaving that night to see Lysandra. But she hadn't - she wasn't sure if Dorian or Chaol would return to check-in as had become their habit.

She remembered him now, standing with the other champions in the training hall.

Nox is slouched next to her, his eyes troubled.

"What's taking them so long?" Aelin asked, her brows furrowed. There were still a few days to the first task - the first death should be just before that, not after.
Nox surreptitiously looked around and then leaned in.

"From the rumours I've overheard - the council called an emergency meeting this morning." he murmured.

Careful to keep her voice low, she asked sharply, "What's happened? Has someone died?" A quick headcount confirmed nobody was missing - all the champions were alive.

Nox hesitated. "- No. At Least not anyone here."
They catch the attention of another champion and turn away from each other, careful to keep their expressions neutral.

"Rumours are that Ashryver - the general - had a run-in with a warring witch clan. His army got involved and the King is not happy." Nox continues under his breath.

Aelin's heart stops.

"Are they okay?"

"I assume so - Ashryver's been called back immediately."

"What did he do?"

Brullo, their trainer and all-round vicious creature, had entered the hall, bringing with him an instant hush. He looked troubled, glaring more fiercely than usual.

"What are you all standing around for!" It wasn't a question. "Get to work. The first task in 3 days and none of you lot have a shot as you are."

They scattered around the hall. Aelin tried to keep close to Nox- she needed more information, this was so vastly different from her past. But, without gathering too much attention from the champions around her, she found out nothing. Nox didn't know much else - he'd only been able to gather that there was a battle between two clans of witches; and Aedion had joined it, defending one side.

Aelin had struggled through the day.

This was too big of a change to be anything but her fault. What had they done that had rippled so far outward? Aelin had made sure not to do anything to vastly different - she hadn't yet left the castle, hadn't even met Mort. The only difference had been Rowan, finding her. She had trained harder, of course, but kept her improvements out of the training hall.

So how had Rowan's presence affected Aedion in Terrassen? Had Nehemia done something?

"You're looking peaky, Champion," Dorian said, pausing as he noticed that Aelin was trailing behind him and Chaol.

It was nearing dusk, and the contestants had all departed. Dorian had joined Chaol and Aelin as they walked through the courtyard back up to her room. She wanted to ask about Rowan but knew more likely than not he was gathering supplies in the city. If nothing else, Aelin was glad of her friendship with Nox, wanting to warn him away sooner but not wanting to risk greater change. For all her need to change things, she wanted that change to be a result of her own actions. They hadn't done anything big enough to warrant the near-death of her cousin.

"And you have a charming way with words, Hallivard." Aelin smiled her grin a little too wide.

" Are you training my champion too hard, Chaol?" Dorian ignored her words completely.

"Me? If anything, I'd like her to slow down." Chaol scowled slightly, thinking of her ungodly runs in the morning.

Aelin picked up her pace, her wandering mind now back with Dorian and Chaol. "Oh, don't tell me you don't enjoy my morning runs, Captain."

"They'd be more enjoyable if they were after sunrise, with a little less nauseating company."

A soldier walked quickly towards Chaol, walking a little ways away so while Dorian and Chaol could hear him Aelin could not. She fought to hide a scowl. She saw Chaol nod at Dorian and then turned on his heel to follow the soldier who had already started making his way back to the glass castle. Dorian watched them go for a minute, a crease between his eyebrows, before falling back into step with her.

"You've just got my lovely company for now, I'm afraid." He grinned, the smile shallow.

The sun was slowly setting now, clearly seen through the windows. The light had gone that orangey grey of nightfall.

"Chaol had to leave quite abruptly, didn't he?" Aelin asked, taking her opportunity. If anyone would know more about what Aedion had done, it would be Dorian. " It wouldn't have anything to do with some witches, would it?"

Dorian paused.

"Now where did you hear about that?"

"Oh, around," said Aelin. She wasn't going to give Nox away, wherever he had gotten his source.

"There was a - skirmish." Dorian humoured her.

"Skirmish?" asked Aelin, her eyebrows raised.

"Argument, fight - we don't quite know yet - between two clans of witches. Or perhaps, a group not part of any individual clan."

"And a squabble between witches called the attention of Adarlan?" Aelin pressed.

Dorian hesitated. She wants to curse at his mistrust, at his weighing of every word. If there's any information that is too useful for her to know. But he seems to decide she would have no use for it except idle curiosity.

"The General," Dorian's lip curled. " Thought it would be beneficial to join in on the witch's business. Perhaps to gain power, favour - his thoughtless actions caused the deaths of a dozen or so soldiers."

"The King didn't order his involvement?"

"No - he was quite furious. It is unlike the Wolf of the North to act out like that." Dorian frowned.

"You don't like him," she guessed. " There's a history there."

"It's complicated," Dorian said drily. "I wouldn't count him as a close friend- but yes, there is a history."

They walked closer to her rooms now. She missed the easy camaraderie she has with her own Dorian, and for all that this one wore his face he was inevitably different. Unchanged.

This Dorian did laugh more. He gave his smiles freely, and despite his insistent blocking of her and Rowan, she could understand what he was doing. He didn't know her - not really, she hadn't been able to open herself up to him. All he knew was she was an assassin, and her motives were unsure. Her flirting with Rowan to him seemed to have an underhanded motive, not at all innocent.

But he had not discovered magic yet, hadn't rebelled, or lost his kingdom. For all his trials had made him a better man, they had also made him more jaded, bitter. And so even though she missed her own Dorian with a fierceness - knew that if her plans were to come to fruition he would never exist - she would not change it. If she could spare her friend pain she would.

Aelin must have been silent for too long. When she looked at Dorian again, she found him looking at her contemplatively.

"Sometimes, " he said. "I look at you and see someone entirely different."

Aelin raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

"You're by all accounts a deadly assassin, of course," Dorian continued, brushing her off. "And you smile and flirt, as carefree as anything. But then some moments you just - drift off."

They stopped in front of her door.

"You change, then. You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders."

Dorian's face was more serious than she remembered it being at this time. And Aelin knew this was him reaching out, if not explicitly, a hand of friendship. She wasn't sure what she had done this time to deserve it, but she grasped it with both hands. This Dorian wasn't her own, but perhaps they could build a new friendship untainted by a failed romance.

Aelin couldn't tell him what was bothering her, not the important things - but perhaps she could confide the things that wouldn't seem out of place for Calaena Sardothien.

"I grew up under Aborynn Hamel," she told him, leaning against her doorframe. "The way he trained us - it was always a competition. He pitted people who could have been allies against each other until hatred was the only thing we ever knew."

"What changed?"

"We did. We had to - the night I got captured, we'd planned to leave." She took a breath. Talking about Sam - all these years later, her heart still burned. "It is difficult to continue, knowing there are those who cannot."

"You're talking about Endovier," Dorian stated.

"Endovier, Calculla - they are people who deserve better. Symptoms of a greater problem." She knew what she was saying was close to treason. "Terrasan, Eyllwe - they deserve better than they have."

"They do," Dorian said, after a pause. "That's why you cared about the Ashryver?"

"Terrasan was my home, once." Aelin twisted her fingers together, not quite wanting to enter her room just yet.

"I am not a King, yet," Dorian said quietly. "There will be many years before I am. But when I am, it will be better, Calaena."

And her false name, fitting around her like a pair of too-small shoes, felt like a knife. Her hand moved to the door handle. She was lying to him, as she had done the last time. But what else could she do? Their budding friendship was not enough for her to reveal who she was. But soon, she promised herself, when it was safe to do so she would tell him everything.

"Good night, Dorian." She opened the door.

Dorian inclined his head, and she watched as he walked back through the long shadowed halls to the glass castle.

Rowan was waiting inside.

Aelin admitted that she jumped slightly, before rushing forward.

"Don't do that," she punched his arm lightly, before wrapping her own around his neck.

He laughed slightly, but it was off. Her smile faded.

"You're leaving early, aren't you." She said.

He brought his hands up to cup her face, leaning down to kiss her.

"Everything's set up, and with the new changes," Rowan trailed off. "I'm leaving tonight."

Aelin pressed herself closer to him, her forehead resting against his chest. She felt him kiss the top of her head.

"What did we do?" she asked, the sound muffled into his clothes.

"Aedion's alright," Rowan murmured, his voice as quiet as hers. "This is different, but that's why I have to leave now."

Aelin took a deep breath, lifting her head. "Send me letters as often as you can."

"As often as I can," Rowan promised. "Be safe, Aelin. This whole competition is deadly-"

Aelin scoffed. "You're telling me to be safe? You're going into a den of demons."

"But they don't know yet." Rowan pulled her back to him, threading their fingers together. "I'll be okay."

She reached up again to kiss him. "We're going to change things on our own terms."

Rowan held her closer for a few short minutes, before reluctantly releasing her. She followed him to the door, reaching up on her tiptoes again to press a final kiss to his lips.

She didn't know what she was going to do without him, her lifeline. Someone who understood her wholeheartedly, accepted her without reservation.

"Come back to me quickly," she said as he slipped out of the door. There was a distinct lack of guards outside, she guessed they had been called alongside Chaol.

His eyes drank her in, memorising her face.

"Always, Fireheart."

Aelin watched as he walked away, looking back at her once before the curve of the hall hid him from view, standing at her open door long after he left.

Then she went inside to the doorframe of her bedroom and dropped down to do .

Everything was changing. And she needed to be ready to face it all when it came to her.