After the War: The White Wolf of Doranelle (Fenrys Moonbeam)

Chapter 1: After the War

Fenrys

Fenrys awoke with a start. Sweat beaded his forehead, his heart pounding as the Queen of Terrasen's screams still rang in his head from the images that never stopped haunting him.

The White Wolf sat there on the bed for a good while, contemplating where the hell he was.  He then felt the three tugs on the bond, and everything came crashing back--as did his brother's death.

The war, Maeve, all of it was over.

He flopped back down, pulling the covers of the bed back over his head as he pulled once back on the bond to Aelin. Distant and far, as was the Queen who should be be in Rifthold by now, coming back from a meeting that she had with the Eyllwe royals.

Fenrys ignored the six faint pulls in response, calling him out as a liar.

He only wondered how the hell Aelin knew when he just had a nightmare. She didn't always ask if he was okay, but oftentimes--especially on the bad ones--if she didn't check on him personally then she would ask down the bond.

Not that he hadn't done the same, but Aelin had Rowan to put her back to sleep. To remind her that they had survived everything and the war ended four years ago. While Fenrys had his own thoughts.

Which were now telling him that sleep was overrated anyway.

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"Where are you going?" Lysandra asked, a warm cup of tea in hands, as she sat curled up like a cat on the couch next to the warm fireplace. A fluffy, white blanket lain thrown across her as her long brown hair shimmer in the firelight. Fleetfoot on the other end of the couch, dozing, the dog's ear twitch was the only sign that she acknowledged Fenrys's presence. 

"For a run," Fenrys said simply, while simultaneously tying his golden hair back into a braid. Not that it was abnormal, he went on almost everyday unless Terrasen's winters decided to be a little bit too cold. Stabbing things and exercise had always been a good way to deal with all the shit engraved in his mind.  Far better than how he used to deal with it.

The Lady of Carverre eyes narrowed. "It's barely dawn."

Fenrys glanced outside, and it was indeed more dark outside than it was light.  Time was just a concept anyway. He stalked over to the couch, bracing his arms on the back of it as he asked in her ear, "Care to share why you're down here instead of sleeping upstairs with your loving husband?"

With Aelin and Rowan away, Aedion and Lysandra had both come to Orynth to help Fenrys take up command. They had even brought up Evangeline and their two year old daughter, Eva, up. Together, they certainly filled the silence of not having the fire breathing bitch queen around.

Lysandra scowled and muttered, "Bastard," taking another long sip of her tea.

The war had taken their toll on everyone, and Lys was likely up for the same reason that Fenrys was. 

A smile pulled on his lips and Fenrys picked a piece of cookie crumb for her cheek. "Been raiding the pantry have you?"

Lysandra was smiling as she faced him and said, "Aelin told me someone had to terrorize the kitchen staff while she was away." She poked Fenrys's shoulder and added, "Her majesty also told me to be as much of a mother hen to you as I want."

Fenrys choked on a laugh. "You do realize that I am older than both of you combined."

She raised an eyebrow. "By Fae standards aren't you our age?"

"That's not quite how it works," Fenrys said with a chuckle. He pecked a kiss to her cheek. "Please don't send a gaggle of women after me," he called, heading back for the door.