AN/ SO HOW YOU DOING?! It's been a while, hasn't it? You guys probably don't know this but I read Throne of Glass recently and fell in love. But because I read the Assassin's Blade AFTER Queen of Shadows, and I like whatever main ship was in the last book I read best, I ended up shipping Sam/Celaena more than Rowaelin. Don't get me wrong, I still love Rowaelin, just at this moment I love Sam SO MUCH, he is MY BABY, and I NEED HIM MORE IN MY LIFE. Don't worry, that doesn't necessarily mean that Sam will get da gurl, because at this point I don't know. I'm just gonna figure out the ships in this fanfic as I go with, so I'm not tagging it as Rowaelin or Sam/Celaena (what's their ship name? Like actually) yet. It's like if Lyria was still alive, Rowan would be torn. But I will definately let readers' preferance influence my story, so if you value one ship over the other, review it and I'll consider it more. This could be an AU, it could be my version of the fifth book. I don't know or necessarily care. So this chapter isn't that long, just 1,300 words or so, but I can promise that the rest of the chapters will be longer, anywhere from 1,000 (at minimum. I always make sure each chapter has at least 1,000 words) to 4,000, maybe. So, to the story before you hit me in the face with a book for yammering on for too long.

He didn't remember his name. No, he didn't remember anything. Nor did he want to.

He couldn't control himself. He couldn't stop the deaths that have been caused by a hand that was his own but not.

No, he wasn't himself in every way possible. He didn't know anything, remember anything about his past, present or future. He only knew that there was a demon inside him, controlling him, taunting him. Ripping apart his sanity shred by shred. He knew that he had killed hundreds in a brutal, painful way. He knew that he had fed off their pain and terror and relished in their horror, just like a monster. He knew that no matter what he had done, told himself it was wrong, he had still enjoyed the taste of his victims.

No, he didn't want to know who he was, for he only knew who he is.

A monster.

The demon smiled at him.

Aelin stretched out on her bed, in the exquisite visitor of the-her castle. She wasn't ready to claim back her childhood room, or her parents or Uncle Orlon's. Instead, she had settled for a room not unlike her old one in the castle, complete with a pianoforte.

Rowan was sitting on the couch, lost in thought. His hair gleamed in the natural sun light peeking through the window. He didn't so much as flinch as Aelin stood up and started to unpack, sighing as she gave up on sleep.

Oh she hated packing. She always had, but especially since that night. So she hadn't brought much, a few necessities, clothes, and a couple trinkets. Obviously she had brought a couple books to read during the long journey back home. Aedion had limited her to ten of her favourites, and, grumbling, Aelin had picked off books one by one to get down to twelve, which Aedion accepted with a sigh. But he made her carry the books all the way back to Terassen, and barely after the first day, she had wondered if it was a mistake to bring so many heavy books. Her doubts vanished when she saw the scratch it made on her cousin's arms after he gave her the I told you so look.

She brought some sheet music, from a few of her favourite composers. Many had been gifts from Arobynn, the now-dead King of the Assassins, but they still contained music and music was what she wanted. But there was one piece that stood out from the others. Firstly, the paper was thicker, the ink more black, and it was a bit more complex then the others. But mostly, it was because of who had gifted it to her, and the beautiful music inside.

Sam.

Aelin traced some of the notes, envisioning them inside her head. The sound trilling out from not only a pianoforte, but violins and trombones and tubas, tied together with drums and cello. An entire orchestra of instruments, playing them with the precision and expertise as they had years ago.

A hand startled her, making Aelin jump as it rested slightly on her shoulders. She tilted her head up, and saw Rowan smiling down at her. She returned it with a smile, albeit a little sad, of her own as she set the music down on the ground next to her.

The bell chimed, alerting the people that it was nearing ten at night. Rowan offered the queen a hand which she took with a grateful look, and began preparing for bed.

Aelin was already dressed in a simple nightgown, and made herself swallowed underneath the blankets. Rowan merely pulled off his shirt (of course Aelin didn't stare), and tugged on another. They didn't say a word as she wriggled over to make room for the massive Fae.

There was something soothing about the silence. She had once told Sam that Music was the only thing in which there was more beauty in the rest between than the actual note itself. Sam had laughed and said that that was beautiful, but made no sense. Of course it wouldn't, to him. He didn't play any music, didn't know about the shapes and turns of it, the incredible difference that phrasing and dynamics could make. She was a master of phrasing, reading between the lines of sheet music and adding ritardandos here and there, an extra half second of rest right before a new phrase, a new statement begun. Silence was so fragile, more so than peace. It took effort from both sides, and even then there might still be sound. But in that moment, there was blissful silence.

Neither dared to speak, until Rowan turned around and faced her. "What's wrong?"

Aelin grasped onto the silence for a count of ten, before releasing it with a "Nothing."

Rowan played with the ends of her hair. "You can tell me anything, Aelin. You know that."

She sighed, and casted her gaze up where the sky should be. "After my parents died, I felt a sense of closure. I knew that they were dead, and that felt horrible, but there were no strings that were left frayed. I felt closed. And maybe it was because I became Celaena, but I strangely doubt that. It's just that I don't feel the same for Sam. I feel my nerves on edge and my mind running a million miles per second and most of all, my heart feels off. And I don't know what to do about it," she said, her voice breaking a little at the end. She let out an uneven breath, and then sucked in more air.

Rowan was silent for a while, his fingers still against her hair, before brushing them against her face. "I don't know who Sam was," he said, still caressing her cheek. "I didn't know his motives or his heart or even his legacy. But I do know what you felt for him, and I know how painful it is to lose someone. Maybe the closure you felt from your parents was because you had someone to fall back on at that time. It wasn't as scary because Arobynn Hamel picked you up soon after and took you under his wing. You had a safety net, even though you didn't know it, and during that time that you didn't, you were too worried for your life and grieving. But after Sam, for a while, you had no one. For a year you had no one to lean on and because of that you feel an emptiness in your heart because no one was there to fill it up for you."

Her breath hitched, everything stilled, including herself, but Rowan carried on. "But, again, I don't know him. Maybe it's best if you talk to Lysandra, and then you'd feel a little bit of closure."

Aelin closed her eyes and replied with a shaky voice, "Yeah, maybe" Then after a minute, she added "I'll talk to her in the morning."

Rowan kissed her cheek. "Good," he murmured, as he slipped off into sleep. But even as he slept, Aelin stayed awake for some time, wondering if that was it. She hoped so, she hoped to the gods that Rowan had said it all, captured it in a single paragraph.

But she could not shake the feeling that it was something bigger than that.

AN/ So that was it! I hope you enjoyed, although admittedly, it wasn't one of my better chapters. I hope to see you later, bye ma lovelies.