Still, Rowan stood by her side until the Fae woman was nothing but ashes, his wind carrying her above the trees and towards the sea.
Rowan's POV:
Three days after they'd burned the body, Rowan decided to take Aelin to visit a commune of healers close to Mistward. They were known to be some of the finest in the world, their compound located at the border between the Fae and mortal lands so anyone, human or Fae, could receive aid.
He'd been thinking about what she'd said, how she'd once wanted nothing more than to see the world. So, here he was, following the princess around as she was led through the grounds by the commune's head healer. He honestly never thought he'd see Aelin speechless, but there she was, eyes wide and mouth shut as she listened intently to whatever the woman was saying.
They spent half a day there, but Rowan still had to drag the princess away by the end of it. He would have let her stay longer, but it was close to nightfall and thanks to her inability to shift the journey home took twice as long.
Honestly, he was beginning to wonder if the visit had done more harm than good. Aelin had obviously enjoyed it, but she was unusually quiet on the hike back to Mistward. Something was obviously bothering her.
The next day Rowan woke before dawn, any thoughts of the princesses moodiness long gone. Malakai had brought news– another body had been found, drained the same as the others. Rowan was having difficulty controlling his rage, the desire to catch the creature strong enough he had considered leaving without Aelin altogether. She'd been useful before though, and if anything he could use this as an opportunity to force her into shifting.
Aelin wasn't in her room when he arrived, so Rowan resigned himself to waiting. She appeared a few minutes later, finishing off a muffin she must have taken from the kitchens. He held his pack open for her, waiting until she shoved a change of clothes inside before shouldering it and heading out the door.
He didn't speak until they were past the gates and surrounded by trees, where they both shrugged off their hoods and were greeted by the cold bite of the morning air.
"Shift, and let's go," Rowan ordered. He was in no mood for her games, not while that thing was free to hunt and kill Fae as it pleased.
"And here I was, thinking we'd become friends," Aelin said, lips lifting into a smirk.
"It's twenty miles," Rowan said with a wicked grin. "We're running. Each way."
He could practically hear Aelin's muscles trembling at the thought.
"And where are we going?" Aelin growled.
"There was another body— a demi-Fae from a neighboring fortress. Dumped in the same area, same patterns. I want to go to the nearby town to question the citizens but..." Rowan trailed off, clenching his jaw in a effort to get the words out. "But I need your help. It'll be easier for the mortals to talk to you."
"Is that a compliment?" Aelin was grinning now, far too much satisfaction in her gaze for his liking. Rowan rolled his eyes.
"Shift, or it'll take us twice as long."
The amusement faded from Aelin's eyes. "I can't," she sighed. "You know it doesn't work like that."
"Don't you want to see how fast you can run?" Rowan asked. He wasn't just baiting her, he was genuinely curious. How could she still fear her Fae form? How could she resist the urge to see how fast she could move, how much power was lurking in her bones? Hell, Rowan was curious. He wanted to know what made her so special, wanted to see how far he could push her before she broke. Yes, she was afraid, but there was something else she wasn't telling him.
Aelin sighed, her eyes suddenly everywhere but him. "I can't even use my other form in Adarlan anyway, so what's the point?"
Rowan could tell she was about to let that hopelessness overwhelm her, so he interrupted before she could spiral. "The point is that you're here now and you haven't properly tested your limits. The point is, another husk of a body was found and I consider that to be unacceptable."
He said the second sentence with a touch of venom and viciousness, and watched as rage flickered to life in Aelin's eyes.
"Unless you're still frightened," he crooned, reaching out to tug on her braid.
"The only thing that frightens me is how very much I want to throttle you," Aelin snarled. She was angry, yes, but not at him. No, this was just her hiding. She was angry, furious, at whatever foul creature was killing those Fae. Rowan could use that.
"Hone it— the anger," he said, his voice low and steady. "Let it be a blade, Aelin. If you can not find the peace, then at least hone the anger that guides you to the shift. Embrace and control it— it is not your enemy."
He could sense it building within her, all heat and embers and fire, but then a wave of self-doubt buried it. "This will not end well," Aelin said, her voice shaking.
Rowan ignored her. This was it, he was done waiting. "See what you want, Aelin, and seize it. Don't ask for it; don't wish for it. Take it."
"I'm certain the average magic instructor would not recommend this to most people," she said, but Rowan could feel it now. Her control starting to fracture. She wanted, needed to let that power out.
"You are not most people, and I think you like it that way," he said. "If it's a darker set of emotions that will help you shift on command, then that's what we'll use. There might come a day when you find that anger doesn't work, or when it is a crutch, but for now..."
He trailed off, thinking back to every time she'd shifted. It had always been some variation of anger that had led her to it. Anger at him for the endless insults, anger at him for biting her. All that buried rage... it was the key.
Aelin took a single, shaky breath, and then with a near silent growl, she shifted. There was a burst of light, a flash of sharp teeth and pointed ears, and then her power was filling the air. A living, tangible thing.
Oh, he could have fun with this.
Rowan grinned, darting to her other side to give her braid a firm tug. Aelin whirled, but he was already moving, pinching her side and coaxing a yelp out of her.
"Stop," she growled, baring her newly sharpened canines.
Rowan did stop, standing in front of her, an unspoken invitation in his eyes.
Aelin crossed her arms, looking every bit the child about to throw a tantrum. Typical.
Rowan moved to the left, ready to pinch her again, when Aelin's elbow slammed into his arm and blocked his attack. Her other hand moved then, striking a blow to the side of his head.
Rowan stopped mid-step, struggling to keep the surprise off of his face.
Aelin smirked, wicked amusement dancing in her eyes.
Rowan bared his teeth, a feral grin sliding into place. "Oh, you better run now."
•••
Rowan gave Aelin a head start, allowing her to adjust to her Fae form as they ran through the trees. They were headed southwest, towards another dead Fae and whatever horrible creature had killed it, but all Rowan could focus on was the wind on his face and the forest floor beneath him. He'd forgotten how good it felt to run like this, the pure joy that came with letting go of his inhibitions.
He knew Aelin felt it too, the anger that had consumed her moments ago and triggered her shift fading into pure, unhindered happiness. Rowan was closing in on her now, and he watched as she tested the instincts that gave her the ability to dodge trees and boulders with ease. Whenever he got close enough to touch her, Aelin would change directions, nothing but a blur of blonde hair through the trees.
It was as if the entire forest came alive around them. The smell of oak and moss and rich earth flooded his senses, the air thick with morning mist. The sun was shining through the trees, warm and golden as Aelin and him raced alongside each other.
They reached a plateau and Aelin sped up, practically flying over the ground. Rowan reached her side, relishing in the joy and energy that filled the air as Aelin pushed the limits of her Fae form. Her blonde hair was glowing in the sun, her blues eyes sparkling and a smile on her face as she discovered how fast she could go, how effortlessly her new body moved.
Beautiful. The thought slipped into his head without warning. He'd known Aelin was attractive, but seeing her like this, happy and carefree and so alive... he couldn't think of another word to describe her.
Rowan lunged for the princess, but she dodged him with ease, swinging herself between the branches of a nearby tree. He was by her side again in a moment, snapping at her with his teeth as she spun and launched herself off of a boulder in a series of beautiful, fluid movements.
Rowan stopped his attempts at baiting her, simply keeping pace as they ran through the woods. Aelin looked at him, eyes questioning, no doubt wondering why he wasn't attacking her. When she realized he wasn't going to, she grinned at him through the trees.
And despite himself, Rowan smiled.
•••
Even with their Fae speed and endurance, both Aelin and Rowan were panting and gasping for air by the time they'd finished their twenty mile run.
He turned to the princess, watching as she wiped the sweat from her brow. Rowan didn't realize he'd been staring until Aelin met his gaze, giving him a once over of her own.
Rowan ensured his face betrayed none of the emotions running through his head, instead tossing Aelin the shirt from his pack and turning his back on her. "Change," he barked, pulling his own shirt over his head.
Aelin moved into the trees, and when she returned Rowan had already dressed and stashed his pack. He tossed her a water skein, waiting until she'd drunk her fill to leave the clearing and head to the village in the valley below.
When they reached the little town, both of them were able to breath easy again, but Rowan soon began to wonder if the trip was even worth it. At the sight of two Fae visitors, the villagers quickly shut both their windows and their mouths.
Even Rowan's attempts at politeness failed. He didn't snarl, didn't threaten violence or death, but it was as if someone had sewn the townspeople's lips shut. No, they hadn't heard of any mysterious deaths or disappearances. No, there was no sign anything was amiss.
No, they were all perfectly safe, and didn't appreciate the Fae interfering in their business.
Aelin's attempt at flirting with the local stable boy proved unsuccessful, as did Rowan's conversation with the taproom maid. Perhaps it was futile. The heat was thick and sweltering, and even Rowan was growing tired of this. They could leave now, return to Mistward before dark.
Aelin's mood was no better than his. "I could believe it was a half-wild creature if at least some of them knew these people had vanished," she said as they walked down the suddenly empty street. "But consistently selecting someone who wouldn't be missed or noticed? It must be sentient enough to know who to target. The demi-Fae has to be a message– but what? To stay away? Then why leave bodies in the first place?"
Rowan listened to her musings, watching as she tugged absentmindedly on the end of her braid. They stopped in front of clothier shop, Aelin studying the dresses displayed in the window. The shopkeeper took one look at them and yanked her curtains closed.
Rowan snorted at Aelin's expression, her expression equally shocked and offended.
She turned to him, scowling. "You're used to this, I assume?"
"A lot of the Fae who venture into mortal lands have earned themselves a reputation for... taking what they want. It went unchecked for too many years, but even though our laws are stricter now the fear remains," Rowan explained.
"Who enforces these laws?" Aelin asked, winding her braided hair through her fingers.
Rowan grinned. "I do. When I'm not off campaigning, my aunt has me hunt down the rogues."
"And kill them?" There was no anger or disgust in her tone, only curiosity. It was... refreshing.
Rowan flashed another wicked grin. "If the situation calls for it. Or I just haul them back to Doranelle and let Maeve decide what to do with them."
Aelin shuddered. "I think I'd prefer death at your hands to death at Maeve's."
Smart. Rowan had centuries of experience torturing and killing on Maeve's orders, but his aunt had a specific talent for inflicting pain. "That might be the first wise thing you've said to me."
Aelin cocked her head, considering. "The demi-Fae said you have five other warrior friends. Do they hunt with you? How often do you see them?"
Rowan tried not to be taken aback by the change in topic. "I see them whenever the situation calls for it. Maeve has them serve her as she sees fit, as she does with me. It is an honor to be a warrior serving in her inner circle."
Aelin studied him for a moment, and Rowan braced himself for the comment about him being a mindless warrior brute, but it never came. Instead, she looked around at the empty street, the abandoned carts and shuttered storefronts. She sniffed the air, and then– "Do you have any money?"
Rowan frowned at her. "Yes. They won't take your bribes, though."
What was she thinking?
"Good," Aelin said, gesturing toward a painted sign that said *Confectionary*. "More for me then. If we can't win them with charm, we might as well win them with our business."
A protest was already on his lips, but Aelin didn't bother to listen. She was across the street and pushing the door open to the Confectionary, determinedly ignoring him. Despite his better instincts, Rowan followed.
Aelin flashed a grin at the shopkeeper, an elderly woman with hard, beady eyes who looked more inclined to slam the door in their faces than sell them any sweets.
Aelin wasn't deterred. She smiled and laughed and flirted with the woman, and then did the same at every shop in town, until even the most stubborn merchant couldn't resist her charms, and soon the streets were filled with the sounds of shouting vendors.
•••
As soon as people heard two Fae strangers were spending their silver on chocolates and books and bread, they became much more cooperative. Reluctantly, Rowan found himself admitting Aelin's plan had worked, and soon he was carrying her numerous bags and boxes as they made their way from store to store.
Aelin walked beside him, licking chocolate from her fingers after inhaling the box they'd bought. She'd offered him one, but Rowan had refused. She'd scoffed and shaken her head, but he had a feeling she didn't mind not sharing.
Despite Aelin's efforts, the villagers didn't have much more information then when they'd asked earlier. One man had found a few small, discarded knives in his fishing nets, but beyond that none of them had noticed anything unusual.
They declined the suddenly available room at the inn, Aelin confessing she wasn't in the mood to watch Rowan disembowel a would-be thief, and instead made camp in the woods.
They were no closer to finding the creature, but as Rowan fell asleep beneath the trees and the stars above, he realized working with Aelin... it hadn't been entirely awful.
•••
At dawn, Rowan roused himself from sleep and set out to collect wood for a fire. When he returned, the princess was still sleeping, so he arranged it in a pile and waited for her to wake. Rowan could light it well enough himself, but he had a different goal in mind for today. Aelin had finally learned to control her shifting, now it was time to control her magic.
He didn't have to wait long. Aelin jerked awake a few minutes later, gasping for air and trembling. Rowan knew it wasn't because she was cold.
He watched as she lifted her right hand, her eyes following the scar that ran the length of her palm. She was still shaking, struggling to control her breathing. Rowan was familiar with the look in her eyes– wild, frightened, unsure. An animal prepared to flee.
"Do you want breakfast?" He asked, hoping an attempt at normalcy would snap her out of it. Aelin whirled to face him, her eyes wide. As if she'd forgotten where she was, who she was with. Rowan waited, silent and still.
After a moment, she nodded. She rubbed at her eyes, and when she looked back at him the wild, distant look in her eyes had faded.
For a moment, Rowan considered lighting the fire himself and leaving her be. But Aelin learning to control her magic was vital, and lighting a fire was well within her capabilities.
Aelin wasn't inclined to agree.
"You can't be serious," she said in response to his order to light the fire, eyebrows raised and expression incredulous. When Rowan didn't respond, she relented and turned her body towards the pile of wood, hands outstretched.
"Pointing is a crutch," he said. "Your mind can direct the flames just fine."
"Perhaps I like the dramatics."
Rowan have her a look that said, Light the damn fire, Aelin.
To his surprise, she returned her attention to the unlit fire without a single protest or snarky comment, this time with her hand at her side. After a few moments, the wood began to smoke as Aelin's magic filled the air. It was like the crack of a whip, all spitting embers and choked ash.
"Easy," Rowan murmured. "A knife, remember. You are in control." Still, he had to admit he was impressed. Perhaps teaching the princess to control her magic wouldn't be as difficult as he'd thought it would.
The flames grew, though weak and flickering, and for a moment Rowan thought Aelin would succeed. Then, before he'd even sensed her control slipping, Aelin's power surged and the clearing was engulfed with flames.
Rowan cleared the flames and smoke from the air with his wind, until all that was left as a reminder of Aelin's outburst was a pile of charred wood and a trace of ashes in the air.
One look at the princess told him she didn't need his criticism now.
"At least you didn't panic and shift back into your human form," he offered.
He'd meant it as a comfort, as encouragement, but Aelin just nodded and left the clearing.
So much for progress.
UPDATED: 08/25/19