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Summary
The eve before the battle-
Dane gritted his teeth at the thought and turned to lay in his bed, kicking his boots off and removing his robes as he did so. He rested, for a moment, in nothing but his burgundy linen tunic. He stared at the ceiling of the tent, attempting to guess the constellations which rested past the fabric roof. Thoughts of Finn flooded his mind.
Was he also staring at the same style of tent? Was he thinking about him? Did he even miss him? Was he safe?
Enough. He sat up, unable to rest from his racing thoughts. He wanted to see Finn. He needed to see Finn.
But how?
It’s the dead of night and all of the Lunare forces would be wide awake and awaiting an ambush at this time.
Wait. He thought for a moment. They’re awaiting an ambush from a fleet of thousands of fae. Not just one person, however.
Maybe he could sneak into the encampment? He knew the territory from the forlorned summers he’d spent with Finn. But if he did sneak in successfully, would Finn even care to see him? Would he try to kill him like his father?
He wanted to try, lest he regret the chance to see Finn before meeting him on the battle field.