The artwork above is not mine.

◦ ~ ❘ ☼ ❘ ~ ◦

    They'd been home for hours and despite his exhaustion, Fenrys still hadn't slept. He hadn't even bothered to eat or shower. They'd ridden through part of the night before Fenrys felt strong enough to teleport them to the cabin. After they arrived, he'd spent several minutes debating how he should take care of Nascha and what she would or would not appreciate him doing.

    In the end, he decided he didn't care what she thought. Fenrys had taken a wet cloth and wiped the dust and sweat off her skin as well as he could. He didn't bother trying to wash her hair. It would be a little difficult to do while trying to support her unconscious body. When she was relatively clean, he'd dressed her in the clothes she usually slept in. She was now soundly sleeping on the bed, covered by one thin blanket.

    Fenrys sat beside her, unable to calm the instincts that had overtaken him. The regenerative sleep following a burnout was a vulnerable time for Fae. Nascha wouldn't be able to defend herself if she was attacked. She wouldn't even be aware of the attack. She could be killed without ever suspecting a thing. That was why Fenrys was still awake when early morning light spilled through his bedroom window.

    Fenrys combed his fingers through his golden hair, stifling a yawn. His stomach growled, reminding him of how long it had been since his last meal. He'd have to eat something soon. A knock sounded on the front door. Fenrys tensed, sliding off the bed. He drew a dagger off his nightstand and pocketed it. The knock came again.

    Fenrys reached the door and opened it. Aelin crossed her arms, studying him with a grimace. "You look like shit."

    Fenrys huffed in amusement, opening the door wider. Aelin stepped inside and peered down the hall. "Elide told me what happened," she said. "Is Nascha all right?"

    Fenrys nodded, brushing past her. He returned to the bedroom and sat on the bed beside Nascha. Aelin followed him, but halted in the doorway when he revealed his dagger and set it aside. "It's a minor burnout," Fenrys said. "She was able to eat and drink a little before falling asleep. Hopefully that will tide her over until she wakes."

    Aelin inclined her head, then sighed. "I put you in a difficult situation the other day and I'm sorry. I know you two have developed an understanding. I didn't mean to drag you into the middle of all of this."

    "I know." Fenrys glanced at her. Sincerity shone within her Ashryver eyes. "But I'm not really the one you should apologize to." Aelin bristled. "I know she disrespected you and I know you feel like she's making things more difficult, but maybe you should do what she said and try to see things from her perspective. Coming here and facing all of this has been harder on her than we can imagine."

    "I don't believe it is any harder for her than it was for me."

    Fenrys shook his head. "Stop comparing her to yourself. You knew you would someday become Queen of Terrasen, even when you were a little girl. Nascha was raised to believe that she'd be married off to form a political alliance. She was never going to be anything more than a pawn when it came to the game of Kings, Queens, Lords, and Ladies. This has never been something she had to think about. It was never something she was trained to do."

    "I wasn't trained to be Queen."

    "But the difference is that you knew you would become one, and you were willing to learn. Nascha is neither of those things. I want to avoid war, but it isn't fair to force her into this."

    Aelin rubbed her forehead wearily. "Nothing is fair, Fenrys. You of all people know that."

    "I do, but I also know that unlike Maeve, you want to make things fair. Come up with new terms for Nascha. Continue negotiating with Rayan and Eliora. There has to be something we can do."

    "And if there isn't?" Aelin raised an eyebrow.

    "If there isn't, then perhaps the only peaceful way to resolve this will be to give the Arcelians what they want."

    "I won't give away Terrasen's territory like that."

    "You might not have any other choice."

    "It will be seen as weakness," Aelin hissed. "Other cities might follow Arcelia's lead. If I give in to all of them to avoid war, Terrasen will be destroyed anyway."

    "I don't know what else to tell you," Fenrys said. "You can't please everyone."

    "Neither can you." Aelin held his gaze, letting him see what she was thinking. He would eventually have to decide if he was going to side with her, or Nascha. When the time came, he would make that decision. For now...

    Fenrys turned away as Nascha made a small sound, a look of discomfort crossing her features. He touched a palm to her forehead. She was still unusually warm, but less so than before. A headache was likely the source of her discomfort.

    Aelin touched his shoulder gently. "Go take care of yourself. I'll stay with her for a little while."

    Fenrys didn't acknowledge her. He kept his gaze fixed on Nascha. He drew her crimson locks away from her back and began to braid them. Aelin waited behind him.

    Finally, she added, "You can trust me, Fenrys. You know that."

    "I do," he answered, "but it's not that simple." Fenrys twisted off the bed, ignoring the instincts that pooled in the pit of his stomach. Aelin took his vacated spot.

    She gave him a prompting look. "Go on. You smell as bad as you look, and I know you're starting to get cranky." Fenrys rolled his eyes and ducked into the bathroom without further protest.

◦ ~ ❘ ☼ ❘ ~ ◦

    Nascha blinked her eyes open, squinting against the brilliant sunlight. For a moment, she was confused by her surroundings. Hadn't they just been at the village in the Perranth Mountains? Why was she in the cabin? Why was she starving and thirsty? Why was her head screaming at her? Where was Fenrys?

    Nascha rolled over, ignoring the sloshing within her skull. It was as though she were hungover, despite not drinking anything. Fenrys' side of the bed was made, but his warm scent: mist, oak, and heather, was still fresh. Nascha managed to prop herself up on her elbows.

    "Fenrys?" She called hoarsely.

    There was a loud bang in the kitchen, followed by a yelp and a muffled curse. Fenrys scrambled around the corner and slid into the bedroom. "You're awake! How do you feel?"

    "Hungover."

    He frowned. "Stay there. I'll be right back." Fenrys returned to the kitchen. Nascha lay back on her pillow, closing her eyes. She was still struggling to recall what had happened. Quiet footsteps approached and a hand cupped the back of her neck. "Here." Fenrys tilted her head up and held a glass to her lips. Nascha drank the water with a sigh of relief.

    When she was finished, Fenrys set the cup aside and crouched next to her. "What happened? I can't really remember," Nascha said.

    "You hit a burnout and fell asleep. I brought you back here five days ago."

    "Five days?" Nascha's eyes widened with surprise. "It's been that long?"

    Fenrys nodded. "I only expected you to be asleep for three days. Four tops. I guess you used more magic than I thought."

    "Have you been looking after me this whole time?"

    He flashed her a sly smirk. "Looking after you or looking at you?"

    "Ugh, I'm not...sober enough for this."

    "You're not actually hungover."

    "We're going to pretend that I am, since I'm already feeling that way."

    "All right, Sweetheart," Fenrys chuckled. "You're hungover. I'll be sure to tell Lysandra that you can't have the bottle of whiskey she told me she was going to buy for you." He stood.

    Nascha grabbed his arm with a gasp. "Don't you dare!"

    "You're hungover. The only thing you should be drinking is water." His smirk remained as he leaned over her. Wisps of curly blonde hair tickled Nascha's cheek.

    "I'll drink whatever I want," she retorted. "And I happen to want whiskey."

    "I won't allow it."

    "I'm not asking for permission."

    "Good. I'm not giving it." Fenrys' onyx eyes glittered with delight and Nascha couldn't help but smile. "Is there anything you need?" He asked, his voice softening. "Besides whiskey."

    "I'm starving. I could really use a shower. Oh!" Her smile grew brighter. "Some chocolate, new clothes, and sparkly jewelry might be nice too."

    "If you can get out of bed without vomiting or falling over, I'll buy you as many chocolates, clothes, and jewels as you want," Fenrys laughed.

    Nascha shoved him away and struggled to sit up. Fenrys crossed his arms, an amused glint in his eyes. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. The floor slanted beneath her feet. Nascha blinked rapidly, trying to refocus her vision. She swayed haphazardly and toppled over. Fenrys caught her by the waist before she hit the floor.

    "A good attempt," he said. "I'd say you earned at least one box of chocolates, a new pair of boots, and a necklace."

    Nascha rolled her eyes. "You'd hate to spoil me."

    "I would. People might ask questions." He tipped her upright and slid his fingers along her jaw, letting his thumb brush over her lips. "Not that they aren't already."

    Nascha knit her brows. "What do you mean?"

    Fenrys hesitated, then replied, "It's not important. If you think you can stand on your own, you might as well take your shower. I'll find something for you to eat."

    "All right." Nascha grabbed a clean tunic, new undergarments, and a pair of pants. Fenrys' gaze followed her. She stepped around him, then paused. "Thank you for helping me," she murmured.

    "You're..." Fenrys broke off as Nascha braced a hand on his shoulder and pressed a kiss to his jaw.

    Her heart pounded against her ribs as she lowered her head. Her lips skimmed over his neck. She remembered now, the way he had watched her while she released her magic. The way he had kissed her. The way she had kissed him. Her canines scraped against his skin. A pleased laugh rumbled in his chest.

    "Do that again and see what happens," Fenrys whispered. Nascha's breath caught. He kissed the hollow spot beneath her ear, then caught her earlobe between his lips and tugged gently. She arched her neck and Fenrys stared at her throat, heat simmering in his gaze. Finally, he averted his eyes.

    Nascha swallowed, somehow managing to steady her breaths. She turned away and headed towards the bathroom. Nascha closed the door silently and switched the water on. When it grew warm, she hopped into the shower. Try as she might, she couldn't slow the racing of her heart, or staunch the blush in her cheeks.