"When do you want to start?"
Rowan grinned, and Aelin went pale as he said, "Now."
Rowan's POV:
The setting sun bathed the valley below in shades of gold and amber, illuminating the revelers as they ate and sang and danced, unaware of the princess who kept their bonfires burning.
Aelin stood beside him, bathed in the light of the fires she tended, the heat of her magic eviscerating the evening chill. A group of musicians had begun a rich, lively tune, and Aelin's flames moved with it in a wild, blazing dance. Her magic no longer manifested just as blue wildfire, instead it was a medley of gold and crimson and scarlet and yes, that brilliant sapphire blue.
Her nerves had for the most part subsided, but Rowan still saw her tense whenever one of the revelers lept over the fires. The demi-Fae didn't seem to care who controlled them, though a few marveled at how the flames did not consume the wood supposedly fueling them.
It was not as effortless a task as they would have believed. Though she had yet to complain, Rowan could tell Aelin was tired, the focus and energy required to keep the fires burning beginning to take its toll. Rowan hadn't left her side, though the quiet commands he'd been murmuring to her seemed to annoy her more than anything else. If she hadn't been so focused on keeping her magic under control, Rowan was sure he would have already been tackled into the dirt.
Aelin shifted, sighing as the movement released the tension gripping her muscles, and the fires flashed brighter as her attention slipped.
"Easy," Rowan murmured, ignoring the glare Aelin sent him.
"I know," she hissed, her eyes tracking a young demi-Fae male as he took a daring leap over one of the smaller fires. She'd been watching the festivities with an air of longing, specifically the tables laden with the feast Emrys had prepared. Rowan almost rolled his eyes. Of course, she'd be thinking about food.
"When can I stop?" Aelin asked, the flames twisting as she shifted again.
"When I say so," Rowan drawled, grinning as Aelin's eyes flashed with irritation. There was fire in her gaze, but Rowan couldn't tell if it was a reflection of the bonfires below or her own brand of flames and embers.
"I'm sweating to death, I'm starving, and I want a break," Aelin said, the exhaustion evident in her voice.
Even with the ice and wind in his blood, Rowan was baking beneath his leathers, and he knew it must be worse for Aelin.
He looked at her then, her face drenched with sweat, body tense under the weight of her magic.
"Resorting to whining?" he asked, but still sent a cool breeze in her direction. Aelin's eyes closed as she tilted her head back, moaning at the sensation of cold air against her sweat-soaked skin. The sight shot a bolt of heat through Rowan that had nothing to do with the fire's warmth. An image flashed in his head— Aelin pressed against him, her mouth opening as an identical moan passed her lips, her neck arching as Rowan's own mouth found her pulse—
Rowan stopped that thought before it could finish forming. What the hell was wrong with him?
"Just a little longer," he told Aelin, forcing himself to think of something else, anything else.
Aelin looked as if she might collapse from relief then and there, but after a moment she returned her attention to the fires below. The demi-Fae were dancing closer and closer to the flames, baited by the rising tempo of the music. Aelin followed their example, humming and tapping her foot to the beat. The flames, entirely in tune with her, began to writhe and dance themselves, ribbons of blue wrapping around the yellow and orange flames.
"Easy," Rowan murmured.
Aelin didn't even look at him.
Another day, another lesson came to mind, and Rowan said with a hint of surprise, "Music. That day on the ice, you were humming."
Aelin hummed in affirmation, the temperature of the air rising slightly, and Rowan sent another cool wind along the curve of her neck. "Let the music steady you," he said.
Aelin didn't acknowledge him, her gaze locked on the flames as if in a trance. The fires rose higher.
"Easy," Rowan repeated, this time as a warning.
He waited for the growl, the comment about how she didn't need him to fuss over her, but it was as if Aelin hadn't even heard him. She was staring at the flames, barely blinking, still and silent as a statue.
"Steady," Rowan said, fighting to keep his tone even.
Every inch of her seemed to be humming with power, the energy cracking in the air like whips. The fires were high enough that even the demi-Fae weren't jumping over them anymore.
It was too much, Rowan realized. Aelin needed to stop, now.
"That's enough for now," he said, reaching out to grab her. The moment his hand met her skin, however, he yanked it back as a burning heat raced up his arm. "That is enough," he growled, hissing at the sight of his blistered skin.
Aelin turned to face him. Her eyes were empty except for the reflection of the flames, any trace of emotion vanquished by that molten heat. There had always been fire in her gaze, even in Varese when it was nothing but dying coals and embers. He'd sensed it roiling beneath her skin, ready and waiting to be unleashed. But this was different. He'd wanted her to let go of her fear, but not like this m. Aelin needed to learn to control her magic, not the other way around.
She turned back to the flames without a second glance, and Rowan's chest felt tight all of a sudden.
"Look at me," he said to her, a desperate attempt to release her from the magic's thrall. "Look at me," he said again, the words barely more than a growl. She didn't even flinch.
"Let the fires burn on their own." It was an order, filled with primal dominance and raw command. It seemed to work as Aelin turned to look at him, pain lacing her features and panic in her eyes. Rowan felt a flash of heat for an entirely different reason, a burning rage that filled his veins. This was bad. If Aelin didn't get her magic under control, she was going to burn out.
"Aelin, stop right now," he said, fighting to keep the fear from his voice.
Aelin opened her mouth but there was no sound, the magic overriding her ability to talk or think or speak.
"Let go," Rowan hissed, the fear and dread pooling in his chest creeping into his voice. "If you don't let go, you are going to burn out completely."
Aelin's face was a twisted mask of pain and terror, but beneath it was another emotion Rowan couldn't even begin to acknowledge. Relief. Relief that this was the end of her magic.
Damn her. Damn Aelin and her self-hatred, her fear of her own power. It was going to get her killed. "You are on the verge of roasting yourself from the inside out," Rowan snarled, the sound low and vicious.
Those words, the urgency in his voice, finally broke Aelin's trance, and the flames in her eyes guttered. As the reality and pain of her lack of control hit her she blinked once, as if there was dirt in her eyes, before crashing to the ground. The entire valley was illuminated by a bright, blinding light as the fires surged to life, the revelers shouting as they lept away from the suddenly wild flames. The music faltered, and then stopped.
Rowan glanced at the crowd only once, long enough to make sure no one was hurt, before he crouched beside Aelin. Wherever her skin touched the grass there was a low hissing sound, smoke curling out from under her in wispy trails of ash. She groaned, her face screwed in pain, and Rowan knew there was no hope of her regaining control of her magic on her own. He couldn't touch her, not while the flames were still heating her body, so there was only one other option, and it wasn't one he liked.
"I'm sorry," he said to her, the words hissed between clenched teeth and followed by a stream of swears as he prepared to yank the air from her lungs.
Then, he let his magic go, stealing the air from Aelin as his ice untangled the mess that her magic had become. Aelin remained on the ground, her eyes screwed shut and hands clutching the grass as she fought for air. It was only a matter of seconds before he returned it to her, her fire easily quelled by his own magic.
Aelin gasped, arching off the ground as the air flooded her lungs. It seemed like an eternity since she'd crashed to the ground, but he could vaguely hear the musicians beginning a new tune, the revelers oblivious to their brush with disaster as they danced around the fires now fueled by the wood at their base.
Rowan leaned over Aelin, telling her to breath, but even with her magic tamed and the air returned to her lungs she was writhing on the burnt grass, her breaths coming in panicked gasps.
Rowan had snapped the tethers to her magic, but Aelin was still burning from within. She had pushed herself over the edge, and now her body was pushing back. If he didn't get her help, the fire would burn right through her.
Rowan forced himself from her side, ignoring the silent sob that escaped her as he ran down the hill and into the crowd below. It took him a moment to find two healers, ordering them to come with him, and then he was back at Aelin's side.
She was still lying on the ground, trembling with noiseless, panicked sobs as she fought for air. One of the healers looked Aelin over, her gaze hardening.
She looked at Rowan. "Can you stand to carry her? There aren't any water-wielders here, and we need to get her into cold water. Now."
Rowan leaned down, taking Aelin into his arms. He was unable to hide the hiss that escaped him as a burning heat raced across his arms and chest, his skin all but sizzling against Aelin's own as the magic tried to burn itself out of her. The healers were already gone, racing towards the fortress, and Rowan ignored the pain as he clutched Aelin to his chest and ran. With every step he took, Aelin's body jolted, and he could almost feel the pain consuming her even as his winds worked to cool her down.
When he reached Mistward, Aelin was barely breathing. She tried to cling to him, but her grip was weakening, and even though he was panting and the pain of his burns was almost unbearable, Rowan didn't dare slow his pace. There was a hallway and two flights of stairs, and then they were in a candle-lit room, Aelin having gone limp in his arms.
"Get her into the water," said the first healer, gesturing to the bath they'd drawn. Rowan lowered Aelin into the stone tub, it's water as cold as ice, but as soon as her skin met the surface there was a sizzling sound and steam filled the air.
"Freeze it, Prince," said the second healer, her voice tight. "Now."
Rowan sent his magic into the bath water, freezing it, and there was a moment of stillness before Aelin's magic crackled to life. The water began to bubble, and the healers shouted for him to get her out. Rowan's hand were on Aelin in an instant, pulling her from the water. Her skin was an angry red, as if she'd been roasted over a spit.
Gods. She'd almost boiled herself.
The heat of her skin revived the pain of Rowan's own burns, but he didn't even wince, shoving her into the second bath the healers had drawn and freezing the water before Aelin's magic could boil it. The heat radiating off of her melted it within seconds, but Rowan didn't allow his magic to yield to hers. For a few minutes, it was silent as the bath water continued to melt and then freeze, their magic's locked together in a deadly dance.
Even with the water, Aelin was still burning, her breathing harsh and her chest heaving. Rowan knelt by the head of the tub. "Breathe," he told her, the word a whisper and a command. "Let it go— let it get out of you."
The water still sizzled and steamed, but Aelin took a breath. One slow, trembling breath, but a breath none the less.
Rowan hadn't realized he'd been holding his own breath, but as soon as Aelin breathed he let out a low, shuttering sigh. "Good," he panted, allowing himself to look her over. Her magic was still fighting his, and he could sense Aelin's fear as it tried to regain control. Aelin herself was drenched in water and sweat, her skin red and blotchy, pain lining her features.
Rowan didn't leave her side as she laid in the water, freezing it whenever her magic flared. Even without her controlling it, Aelin's magic was powerful enough to equal his, each gust of frost and wind met with a spitfire of flames and embers. Even so, it was weakening. Aelin's magic was wild and untamed, and it didn't want to return to its masters hold, but Rowan's determination was greater. He didn't allow his magic to yield, didn't give that fire one gods-damned inch.
Rowan didn't know how long it was before Aelin's magic gave, until the water was warm but not boiling. He had been consumed by the internal battle between her fire and his ice, Aelin's breathing the only sound that mattered. For a moment, as her magic died and they were still breathing in sync, it was as if the world had realigned itself with her at its center, but then one of the healers spoke and the silence broke.
"We need to get those clothes off of her."
Rowan rose to his feet, suddenly remembering they weren't alone. Still, he watched the healers movements closely as they eased Aelin's head off of the edge of the bathtub and stripped her of her clothes. She was too still for his liking, lying in the water with her eyes closed as the healers moved her limp form. It felt as if this wasn't real, like his head couldn't reconcile this Aelin with the vibrant, strong, untamed woman he knew.
Rowan was at her side as soon as they'd finished, ignoring the distant pain of his leathers rubbing against his burnt flesh as he knelt by her head again. For a few moments, there was only the sound of the water lapping at the sides of the tub, the quiet voices of the healers, and Aelin's breathing. Rowan held the word's in as long as he could, wanting to give her a moment of peace before he said, "Just answer yes or no. That's all you have to do."
Aelin nodded her head, wincing in pain, and Rowan ignored the twinge of guilt he felt as he continued.
"Are you in danger of flaring up again?" he asked, knowing the answer but still needing confirmation. Her breathing had steadied, and that raw power of hers had faded, but he had to know for sure.
"No," Aelin whispered. Her voice was hoarse and coated with heat, and she really shouldn't be talking, but Rowan had never been happier to hear her it than he was right then.
He buried the relief flooding him, the waves of emotion that was making it hard to think, and forced himself into the mindset of a commander assessing his soldiers condition. Because that's what they were, weren't they? Master and apprentice and all that? "Are you in pain?"
"Yes." The word was accompanied by a hiss of steam.
The first healers voice reached him through the thick haze of the steam-filled room, clear and soothing as she told him to keep Aelin cool while they prepared a tonic for the pain. The second healer placed a bucket of water next to him, and Rowan nodded his thanks. There was the sound of bare feet against stone and then the door to the bathing rooms closed, leaving Aelin and Rowan alone.
Despite her magic having settled, there was still an unnatural amount of heat radiating off of Aelin, and she sighed when the ice-cold cloth touched her forehead. Rowan dipped another cloth in the water, squeezing it over Aelin's head so that it soaked into her hair. "The burnout," he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper, "you should have told me you were at your limit."
Aelin didn't say anything, and Rowan wondered if she thought he was scolding her. He wasn't, but perhaps he should be. She deserved it for being such a gods-damned idiot. If she had stayed under the thrall of her magic for a moment longer, if she had been alone or with someone other than him, the fire would have burned her into nothing. He'd seen it before— knew what happened to Fae who let their magic consume them. Still, he couldn't bring himself to be angry with her.
Aelin winced as she turned to face him, and while she looked exhausted and half-dead her gaze was lucid. Her blonde hair was plastered across her forehead, either from the water or the sweat still coating her brow. Rowan squeezed the cloth again, and Aelin sighed in relief.
"If you'd gone on any longer, the burnout would have destroyed you. You must learn to recognize the signs—and how to pull back before it's too late," Rowan told her. It was harsh, perhaps, to talk to her like this when she was barely able to breath, but he needed her to understand this. "It will rip you apart inside. Make this..." he trailed off, images of the Fae and demi-Fae who had failed to control their magic filling his head.
"Make this look like nothing. You don't touch your magic until you've rested for a while. Understand?"
Aelin tilted her head, wordlessly asking for more water, but Rowan didn't give it to her until she'd nodded her head to show she'd heard him. When she did, he relaxed for what felt like the first time since she'd fallen to the ground.
Rowan stayed with Aelin for a few minutes, wringing the cloth over her brow and freezing the water with his magic before he decided to go check on the tonic the healers were making. He stood, draping the cloth over the side of the bucket as he said, "I'm going to check on the tonic. I'll be back soon."
He waited until Aelin nodded before he left, but even then it was harder than it should have been to leave her side.
Aelin was fine, she was okay, so why did every bone in his body protest him leaving her? He shouldn't care, shouldn't even be thinking about her and yet... there was a pit of worry stomach that just wouldn't leave him alone. Worry. He was worried, he realized. Why, though? Why had this shaken him so much?
It took the healers only a few minutes to bandage Rowan's burns and finish preparing the tonic, but he was still anxious to return to Aelin's side. Even now, there was that primal, instinctual need to protect and defend coursing through his veins. As long as Aelin was recovering from her burnout, she would be vulnerable, and he couldn't leave her alone even if he'd wanted to.
When Rowan reached the door to the bathing rooms, he could hear Aelin's breathing through the door, it's steady pace easing the strange tightness in his chest.
When he opened the door, the first thing he saw was Aelin. When he'd left, she'd still been lying on her back in the tub, but now she was curled upright in a sitting position, her head resting on her knees. She didn't move as he entered, didn't even look at him as Rowan crossed the room and saw— saw her back.
Her back. Gods.
Rowan stopped moving, his breath catching as he noticed the glistening expanse of ruined flesh, covered in raised, thick lines of scars. Scars, he realized that must be from... from being whipped. Not once or twice, but dozens of times on multiple occasions. Rowan knew how to inflict pain, how to ensure a message was sent with it and these wounds... they hadn't been allowed to heal properly, had been actively treated to leave scars. It was the kind of punishment inflicted by someone who had relished in their victims pain, who had thrived off of it.
As if sensing his horror, Aelin raised her head, her eyes widening as she realized what he'd seen.
It was an effort to form words, to remember how to speak. "Who did that to you?"
Aelin met his gaze, her own exhausted and drained and empty, and Rowan stopped breathing as she said, "A lot of people. I spent some time in the Salt Mines of Endovier."
The word's didn't make sense in Rowan's head, the thought of Endovier and Aelin in the same sentence just wrong. A slave camp. She'd been a slave and he'd... oh, gods.
"How long?"
Aelin was silent, and he almost hoped she wouldn't answer him. That she would send him away, tell him it was none of his gods-damned business. She didn't owe him an explanation, didn't owe him a damn thing but...
"A year," she said, her voice quiet and defeated and so un-Aelin like it hurt. "I was there a year before... it's a long story."
Her eyes went to his chest then, her gaze softening as she noticed the bandages covering it. Rowan didn't care, not one bit. If she apologized to him, he thought he might be sick.
A year. She'd been in Endovier for a year. The longest he'd heard someone survive the slave camps was three months, and most didn't make it past the first week. The conditions in those camps... they were worse than anywhere else on the continent, designed to break seasoned killers and warriors. Aelin had been what— seventeen? not even?— when she'd been sent there.
There was no justification, no reason a child should ever be subjected to those kind of horrors. It didn't matter what she'd done, Aelin deserved better. Deserved more, deserved to have someone fight for her. Rage, ice cold and lethal, filled Rowan. Whoever had done that to her, whoever had played a role in her suffering... he'd tear them apart. Slowly.
"You were a slave," he said, his voice clipped and hard as he asked her to confirm what he already knew.
Aelin nodded, raw emotion pooling in her gaze, and Rowan couldn't look away if he'd wanted to. He opened his mouth— to say something, to apologize, to tell her he didn't care, but everything he thought of didn't seem like enough.
He remembered then, every cruel, heartless insult, every taunt, every threat. She'd been little more than a child when they'd forced her into slavery, when the overseers would have forced her to her knees and—
Why don't I give you the lashing you deserve?
The word's hit Rowan like a blow to the head, dissolving his rage and leaving nothing but silence in its place. Silence— and shame. Shame at what he'd done, at how he'd wielded her trauma against her. He hadn't know, but it wasn't an excuse. Not even close.
And with that, Rowan turned and walked out the door, unable to bear the emotion in Aelin's eyes, unable to face what he'd down, and shut it behind him.
omg. you have no idea how happy i am that this chapter is finally finished.
what i learned while writing this:
- you can only describe fire, flames, and heat so many different ways before you go crazy.
- i think i found a typo in HOF while writing this but it could be that i was just exhausted and delusional
- i want rowan to be my husband (already knew this, but whatever)
- i am losing my mind :)
honestly, writing this was kind of surreal since when i first started this fic it was literally because i wanted to write this scene from rowan's POV. all of the love and support you've given me has been so amazing, so thank you!