A/N: Well, hello everyone! It has definitely been awhile! Sorry about the long wait, life got in the way! THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone that reviewed the first chapter, I was so flabergasted at the response! OVER 70 REVIEWS ON ONE CHAPTER! It's unreal. So unreal, that I'm actually almost done with the next chapter! Until then though, enjoy!

Rowan barely slept in the following days. He just sat there, looking, watching, hoping, something would change. She was just… just so small. Her body limp on the bed surrounded by clean but worn pillows and a fraying blanket.

With a shaking hand, Rowan gently touched her cheek. So cold and still, like there was no life underneath it. Even now as she slept, Aelin's lips were pursed and her body tense from pain he couldn't heal. Pain that a woman he used to admire inflicted on her for years, gods be damned years.

Aelin just laid on the bed, unaware of his inner monologue, looking de–

No, he couldn't think like that. Not now, not ever. Even at the slightest thought of that word Rowan felt a pulsing pain in his chest, yanking his heart as if by a cord. No, she would be alright.

Not if she doesn't wake up soon.

He clenched his jaw to shut that thought out of his mind too.

He promised then, that he would kill Maeve. Painfully. Slowly. Until she begged - begged much her voice was hoarse from the pleading, lips cracked from screaming – for death.

Rowan felt his blood stir and the air around him turn cold. Quickly, he stopped the chill from getting anywhere near his queen, he couldn't let her get any worse.

Softly, he let his finger lightly caress her face, her lightly pointed ear. She had been out for five full days now. Five full days of painful waiting for some sign of life besides the light rise and fall of her chest.

He'd wait, he knew, no matter how long it took for her to get better. Rowan heaved a sigh and ran his scarred hand through his hair. Lips pursed in an effort to keep his raging instincts under control, he glanced out the window and watched as the first snow fall of the season added a sense of serenity to scenery.

Rowan snorted at that, serenity my ass.

His fae eyes quickly noticed a shift in the trees closest to their small cabin. His body tensed and his blood turned to ice in his veins, everything in him clenching in anticipation of fighting to protect his mate.

Rowan watched as a pair of antlers appeared at the edge of the wood. The animal was beautiful. A light coat that nearly matched the snow lined forest floor, its head held high. The stag seemed to stare at him, its gaze as fierce as it was direct. For a second, Rowan thought it might actually be a fae, his hand grasping the dagger at his waist instinctually.

He let himself relax, though, when the stag just cocked its head towards a sound he couldn't hear and then galloped back into wilderness. Its white coat gleaming under the stars.

His mind still scanning the outside for threats, he almost didn't notice the shift on the bed. He almost didn't hear the small gasp and quickening heart rate.

He felt his heart squeeze as he quickly glanced back at the bed, his body preternaturally still as he watched two wide eyes looking him over and then around the room.

She was awake, finally, finally.

Still trying not to move and make any sound as to not startle her, he just sat on the arm chair, frozen. His eyes taking in every detail of her suddenly expressive face like an alcoholic looking at a bottle of aged whisky.

Aelin, oh gods Aelin.

Not able to take it any longer, he dropped to his knees in front of the bed. His body shaking as tears threatened to fall from his eyes.

Her turquoise eyes snapped to him as he moved, his fae ears picking up her racing heart. He watched as she began to try and mouth a word.

"Aelin." His voice was guttural as his knees dug into the wooden floors. Her gaze, oh gods, her gaze. It was a like a stab to the heart. She looked so scared, so untrusting. "Aelin, fireheart, it's okay. You're safe."

Tears began to fall from her eyes, as a tortured expression came over her face. For a second, he thought she'd reach out him but then her face suddenly turned blank. Her expressive eyes dulled as she moved her head so she stared at the ceiling, her scarred hands grabbing the comforter roughly. Then, Aelin laughed a dark deep laugh that Rowan hoped to never hear again and said, "Nice try Maeve, you almost had me this time."

Maeve? What?

Oh gods. What had that evil bitch done? Had she –

Dear lords, had she created a vision of him while torturing her? Had she used him - Aelin's god forsaken mate - as a technique to try and break her?

She turned her head away from him and stared blankly at the door, eyes open but unseeing, her breath steady and body braced. Hesitantly, Rowan reached for her arm – needing physical contact as he smelled her fear, rage, and resignation.

Her answering flinch and feral snarl stopped him short and he quickly withdrew his hand. The movement so violent, so instinctual it took his breath away. His queen, the beautiful powerful queen everyone hoped would save them, had fully given into her animalistic fae side.

"Aelin, it's me." He whispered again, letting his air drift around her lightly, moving his scent directly to her, "it's really-" his voice broke then and he had to take a second to recover, "it's really me."

Her breaths once again became labored as she clenched her scarred hands so tightly together, eyes shut to drown out the world. Her nostrils flared, once, twice and then her head whipped towards him and the most heartbreaking look entered her eyes. Glazed, as if she could scarcely believe what her senses were telling her, what was directly in front of her eyes, she raised a hand to his face. He let those fingers lightly graze his cheek, then ghost over his eyes, nose and finally his mouth. All the while he held his breath, body tense from the need to hold her – make sure she was okay but he let her do it, knowing she needed to figure it out for herself.

"Rowan," fresh tears slid down her cheeks as her hand moved to her own mouth, her head shaking back and forth, "you found me."

Not able to resist it anymore, he went to touch her – only to have her violently roll off the bed in a desperate bid to get away from him.

Oh gods, Aelin, what have they done to you?

In a voice so raw, so filled with agony she said, "Don't," Her body shaking as wrapped her arms around her knees and backed into the corner of the room, "Please, please don't touch me."

Rowan's mouth opened and went dry, his heart shattering even more, as he looked at her. Slowly, as if she was a wounded animal he approached her, arms open in front of him. Trying to keep his voice steady, he said, "Okay, I won't." He didn't succeed. He'd seen this before, wth other victims. The need for space, to be in control of every situation. It would take time, he knew, until she was Aelin again - the fireheart that stole the air from any room she entered. He kept his magic on high alert as he crouched in front of her, calmly.

She looked up at him then, her eyes clearer but still so broken, untrusting – even of him. Still looking at him, she sat there with preternatural stillness for a few minutes. "Could you," she licked her lips and Rowan knew that no matter what she asked of him, he'd do it, "Could you, just sit with me?"

He nodded as he slowly sat down and leaned himself against the wall, not too close but not too far from her. Every second was agony for him, not touching her, making sure she was okay. His fae instincts were roaring at him, telling him to protect her in any way he could. But he stomped down on those hard, knowing that it would do no good. What Aelin needed now, was patience and someone to cater to exactly what she wanted. They had promised each other, so long ago now in Mistward, that they'd give each other space to figure themselves out. Rowan was not going to go back on that now.

So they sat, not talking, just letting each other's presence be a balm for their fractured souls until the sun rose, clear and bright in the winter sky.

A/N: Review please!