You were fucked. Like literally, royally fucked. After Hunt, your best friend, had sent that bolt of lightning through your chest, in hopes to power up the starlight power so you could go to Hel and return bearing help to your homeland in Crescent City, Midgard - you’d not only ended up not being in Hel, but in some place called Hewn City?

With a gorgeous male who radiated authority and looked freakishly similar to your brother Ruhn, a petite female with a sleek bob who spoke your tongue, the female with silver flames - as cold as she was she’d kept you alive this long. And then the so called Illyrian.

According to Nesta, after a cleared throat from the shadow wielder to hush, she ignored him and continued. “With the combined arrogance of both,” both Illyrian and High Fae. That’s who Rhysand was. Considering the lethality and stealth in which the shadow wielder had followed them and had pinned you down a few days ago. It was safe to say you wouldn’t be asking any questions.

After hours of walking in tunnels; carved with stories of the Fae and the humans, alongside unknown and elder rulers you encountered a shallow stream accompanied with sharp rocks jutting out of the silvery foam of the fast paced water, no swimming required thankfully.

You all crossed the stream, Nesta at the front, you between her and the shadow wielder. You believe his name was Azriel. Whatever his name was he kept shuddering and his wings twitching simultaneously in time whenever you felt the inexplicable urge to take back the Starsword - but to also reunite it with that dagger at his side.

“Did the Fae make these tunnels?” You ask, a short reprieve from this suffering silence. Nesta said nothing.

Azriel mused, “I don’t think so. From the consistent size of them, I’d guess that a Middengarden Wrym originally made these passages. Maybe even used it’s waterways to get around,”

“Does it matter?” Nesta snaps, wading through the water like it wasn’t water at all - like it was infested with filth.

“Possibly.” His tone turned darker. “We should be on alert. It might still use them to access the tunnel system.”

Oh, well you don’t sugar coat do you? “What makes you say that?” Your voice shakes.

As you turn to glimpse at him, Solas he’s pretty - focus. “Bones. Of those things from the bridge chamber probably.”

And then you fell. Gone was your Fae like grace and hours of dance practice. Cute bit at your hands and knees, but a solid hand, a warm and strong one was instantly at your back.

“Careful.”

A flush went up your neck and cheeks. Pulsing began in your neck, your wrists, your.. sex. What. On. Earth. Now? Really? When you almost died about twenty minutes ago from that freezing cold water. When his shadows had almost murdered you? When you were no better than a prisoner to his High Lord?

Danika did always say you had a bad type.

“Watch your footing.” He murmurs.