That was one thing that no other element understood about Fire . Theirs was an element fueled by passion and intensity. Anger, Hatred, Happiness, and Love were all part of the overwhelming power of fire. Anger was the easiest emotion to come by for most people, and so that was the reason why majority of the weak could easily lose control over their element. Love was the hardest to summon. Controlling your fire meant controlling your emotions.
If you lost control of your feelings, you lost control of your fire.
And Rabastan had lost control. He'd done it many times as a young child. But he was a young man now, and he should have already learned to keep everything in check.
Her gaze was ice and his fire, but that was all he'd ever needed. Fire melts ice, after all. He only had to be careful she didn't melt away beneath his hands. Consumed in fire, he'll always had to remember the ice. Sometimes he wanted to kiss her. To feel the freeze of her lips soothe the heat of his.
Andromeda would never understand how it felt to have that heat inside him, driving into every corner of his body from his heart and building up hotter and hotter and hotter until he just had to release it. She was Water , a soothing, caring, healing element that could rock you to sleep as gently as if you were a babe in your mother's arms. But, of course, it could also destroy. Whipping up rain storms and tsunamis in a fury that was doom for anybody who got in their way. It was double-sided, as was every element on Earth.
Fire was like that as well. One could easily summon up anger and hatred when fighting an enemy, releasing all that pent-up emotion in a flurry of flame. But, if one of the Fire was happy or in love, that heat was released as a beautiful warmth, caring and soothing, brushing away the cold chill on a winter's night. Because of all that passion, they went one step further in everything. They hated more, angered easier, could be happy to the point of ecstasy, and loved with an incredible intensity. Many undiscovered pieces will remain a mystery until the wild fire spreads to search.
She was like a dream, clinging to his skin, making him drunk with just the sight of her.
They hated eachother with a passion but they loved eachother with the same intensity. Everything was double-sided. Everything had it's own duality. It was all just a matter of how you used the power.
With fire, everything burns bright and beautiful and powerful. Men have sailed ships to distant shores, fought against impossible enemies for just a sliver of what he felt when he was with her. But after the fire, after all the passion and heat burn out, everything is black, cold, and dead.
And so it is with the him. After his energy and emotion had run out, burned straight through, Rabastan felt empty and dead inside. There was nothing left after the heat of his anger but cold, dead cinders.
She would never melt, never thaw.