Eigengrau: Color Seen by the Eye in Perfect Darkness

by D_Reagan_Fly

Summary:

Elide flies off with the witches to claim her Blackbeak heritage. Rowan, Gavriel and Lorcan set out across land in pursuit of Aelin while the Whitethorn clan takes the long way there by boat. As they're travelling however, Rowan is quickly losing hope and Gavriel begins to notice concerning changes in Lorcan. They all want to rescue their Queen, but loyalties are fickle, death is unbiased, secrets are rising to the surface, and memories-- long forgotten for a reason-- may be the undoing of them all.

Notes:

This is me exploring the world of ToG in fanficiton for the first time. I've read all the ToG series, but there's so much there I'm just going to put a disclaimer in here and say please have patience if I mess a few facts up. :)

I latched onto Lorcan's character in Empire of Storms and my heart isn't letting go. Figures, he's a character who does awful things and yet is still drowning in angst. So therefore, D. must redeem. Apparently I have an obsession with redemption, but that's okay with me. Most of the plot revolves around Lorcan but there's lot's of Gavriel, Rowaelin and all those beautiful characters we know and love (or as in Maeve's case, hate with an unhealthy passion).

I don't know if I'll keep going with this one, but I'm trying new things. So, yay! The other characters get a break from my merciless story lines! ;)

PLEASE COMMENT! I'm much more likely to continue when I hear what y'all are thinking and feeling. :)

-D.

Chapter 1: Blackbeak Fury

PART I

 

Fury. Fury that hurt. Fury and pain and grief that skinned the thin layer of flesh away from the inside of her ribcage and stuffed the remnants in the sacks of her lungs. Her soul wailed in her chest for her Queen. Her Aelin. The star in that sky she’d looked for every night in her tower. The fairytale her nursery maid told her every night that kept her child heart beating against the well of hopelessness and pain that always tried to drown her. The hope her mother had died for.

Gone.

That light was gone.

There was no star.

There was no fairytale.

There was no hope left to live, or die for.

Gone.

Lorcan was struggling to get to his feet. She’d never seen him struggle to rise before. Never seen him in that kind of pain. It wasn’t enough pain. As that fury twisted her heart and wrung her soul dry, she felt every bit a witch and not an ounce of human, and with a glance over at Manon who gave her a frozen nod of approval, she stalked over to the dark haired fae male.

“I hope you spend the rest of your miserable, immortal life suffering.” She did. Nothing in her flinched at that, or at the tear streaks down his face, or at the brief flicker of pain as her words hit home before he expertly wiped emotion off his face as he’d been doing for centuries. This witch in her growelled. “I hope you spend it alone. I hope you live with regret and guilt in your heart and never find a way to endure it.”

She turned her back on him and walked to Manon who gave her a wicked grin to welcome her home. Aestrin lifted an inviting arm and Elide slipped beneath it. Slide into her new home of iron teeth and braided hair and the beat of Wyvyrns wings.

Gone was the cold of the tower.

Gone was the dark of Morath.

Gone was the safety in Lorcan’s arms.

Gone was the warmth of her place in Aelin’s fiery heart.

Manon spoke briefly to the males before striding back with that brisk, confidant pace and ice cruel face that she had worn since the first time Elide met her.

“North?” Aestrin asked, with that wicked grin of hers.

Manon only nodded and sent a sharp glance at Elide as though she thought to say something, but then her lips pursed into a thin line and those gold eyes hardened. She said nothing as she mounted Abraxos.

“Ride with me little Blackbeak.” Aestrin offered a hand down to the girl from Terrasan.

But gone was Elide Lochan.

And born was Elide Blackbeak.