The tears rolling down Rowan's cheeks knocked the world from beneath Aelin- her mate, her stunning, perfect mate.
There were paragraphs and paragraphs of words in Rowan's beautiful pine green eyes, but Aelin didn't want to read them. Too many things she didn't want to face right now: what had happened during her captivity, Erawan, Terrasen.
Still, she wrapped her arms around the strong column of his neck and pulled his face down to meet hers, "How is the court? Are Lysandra and Aedion fine?"
Rowan drew a breath, pressing his lips to her cheekbone, before whispering, "They're fine." and wrapping her tighter in his arms.
"What about Elide? And have you heard from Fenrys? Or Chaol? Is Dorian okay?"
Aelin could feel Rowan shake his head where his face was pressed to her shoulder, "Everything is all right, Fireheart."
He pulled away to brush a strand of golden hair from her face- she sobbed, looking him over from where they sat on the blood coated floor of the throne room. Aelin's magic boiled in her gut at the sight a fresh, jagged wound in his side. She clutched Rowan's shoulders and in a pathetically small voice asked, "And you?" her eyes roamed his sculpted figure again, "Are you okay?"
They had whipped him.
"Of course I'm okay- I found you." he murmured.
Now her mind was able to grasp that Rowan was here, that he was not on the verge of death like Aelin had feared, her magic branched out- only to find them surrounded by a dome of unforgiving air. Though Rowan said nothing, she knew that as his hands traveled from her face, to her arms, to her back and thighs he was scouring for every wound that was newly branded on her flesh. And Aelin knew he had served Maeve and endured the battlefields long enough to know what he found and saw meant.
Finally, Rowan tore his gaze from her, surveying the graveyard surrounding them, It's good to see your usual brutality is still intact.
She hummed, We'll make the judgments after we see what hell you've raised.
Rowan smiled at her- his eyes twinkling with new life- and rose from the ground, dragging her up with him by the waist.
Aelin pinched his side, "Put down the air barrier."
He glared at her, but she felt the barrier contract.
o-0-o
At last, Rowan acknowledged the Highlord standing with Mor and a female he could only assume was his mate. Rhysand smirked at him, his eyes flickering to Aelin- and he couldn't help but tug Aelin closer and bare his fangs at the male. Rhys only winked- Rowan's snarl that shook the room turned into a hiss when Aelin pinched his bare hip. He glanced down at her and- oh gods, just her presence made him want to hug her closely to him, kiss and bite her all over- and most of all, demolish the worlds and anything that ever could or had hurt her.
When Aelin had asked about the court- and the others- he had hesitated if he should tell her that he didn't know if they were safe- he had left to find her the day she had been taken away. But right now, seeing her so injured all that mattered was that she was happy and safe. Even if she would yell and scream at him for the lie later on for it.
For the hundredth time, he ran his eyes over her frame, every scar, burn, and cut on her body, soul, or mind he would be sure to repay. His stare landed on the pale puncture wounds in her neck, a familiar rage that had immersed him for the last days bubbled up. And he remembered with a growl- Tamlin.
"Tamlin is in the hallway. Probably curled up in the corner." Rowan said emotionlessly, If you want to kill him he's all yours, if not- I'll finish the job. He concluded looking into his queen's eyes.
Aelin raised an eyebrow at him and he let out a soft snarl, I know what he did to you.
She pursed her lips and quickly looked away, Rowan flinched the shame that flickered across her features. He ducked down to kiss her beautiful golden hair, brushing his thumb against her thin arms in a pathetic attempt to comfort and reassure her.
Mor sighed from across the room, pushing a dead body aside with her foot, she marched into the hallway, followed by the brunette who had been beside Rhys.
"That's Feyre, the Highlady." Aelin clarified, grabbing his still shackled wrist gently and pulling him to the doorway. His other wrist was beginning to heal from his magic, the bleeding had finally stopped. They walked into the hallway, and sure enough that pathetic excuse for a male was whimpering in a corner, his skin drained from blood loss, still clutching his blistering face.
It was instinct to pull Aelin behind him, his magic hovering on high alert. Rowan's hand on her hip felt her tense. First, he thought it was because Tamlin- but then her arms wrapped around his waist, she pressed her head to his shoulder, and he could feel her shaking- in pain or in panic. Rowan frantically twisted to face her, collecting Aelin in his arms.
He searched her for injury- for pain, anything he could fix, "Fireheart, what's the problem? Are you hurt?"
Aelin's shaking had subdued but fresh tears coated her cheeks and fell onto his chest, "No, I'm fine." She held her forehead to his collarbone, shifting her body molded to his. Stooping down, Rowan fully supported her heartbreaking weight.
He wiped her tears away with his thumbs, "Then why are you crying?"
"They whipped you." She whimpered into his neck, "And if I had just stayed here they would never have gotten the chance."
Rowan almost laughed at the dark irony, he had been the one who wasn't there when she had most needed him- and it had resulted in her being more than whipped a few times. The marks on his back would heal, in the worse case, he would have to re-ink his tattoo.
"Aelin, I'm fine." he kissed her neck, "And none of this is your fault."
His mate nodded and Rowan turned to find the three Night Court resistants scowling down at Tamlin, who still seemed unaware of his surroundings- only focused on his melted face.
"Feyre?" Rhys asked, looking between the broken Highlord and his mate, "What do you want to do?"
Feyre growled, "He's not worth the time to kill, just leave him."
Mor looked towards Rhysand, and the Highlord nodded, "Let's go home."
The couple exited the hallway, and Mor followed after spitting on the huddled male.
Rowan pushed Aelin from his chest, but her grip was unbreakable, "Aelin, do you want him dead?"
She finally released him from her iron grip, her eyebrows furrowed and he knew she was debating it. His wife looked over his wounds, the fire flaring in her stunning eyes- then she looked behind her, towards the room where she had slaughtered the Highlord's guards.
"There's enough death, and only more to come. Let him live."
He was itching to kill that male for what he did, but if his queen wished that- he would comply.
Rowan began to guide her out of the hallway but she stopped him with a hand to his shoulder- he froze in his step. Aelin grabbed his still bound wrist, she covered it with her hand and he knew to make a layer of ice to protect him from her flame. The shackle glowed hot red before snapping off.
She pulled his hand out the hallway, to the main entrance- he could feel her magic intertwining with his, healing him faster.
o-0-o
Aelin and her mate emerged from the throne room, their arms still wrapped around each other. Feyre looked up at Rhysand, "They're cute together." she said.
Rhysand turned to her, his wicked grin let Feyre know he knew exactly what she was actually thinking. In minutes they would be back at the house, safe, their court finally together, and most importantly with a spacious bedroom and a door that locked. Even though she knew they had stacks upon stacks of politics to discuss, when Rhysand leaned down, pressing a savage kiss to her lips that had her toes curling in her boots- she knew what would come first. Rhys pulled away to address the crowd and her body whined at the loss of his heat.
"We should winnow to the house now. Feyre, take Aelin, I'll take Rowan." They all nodded and Feyre took hold of Aelin's hand, she saw Rowan tense when his mate stepped away from his arms and then they disappeared.
o-0-o
Aelin had come to expect the impact when they hit the ground, nevertheless, she still stumbled, this time it wasn't Feyre's hands that kept her on her feet- but two strong arms that smoothly wrapped around her. She regained herself and looked around the home. It was well worn but decorated nicely and clean, the two males with the wings were sitting in low back chairs along with the short black haired female who radiated compressed power. Rhysand and Feyre were already sharing sultry looks before he said, "Rowan you can... 'rest' in the second room, up the stairs on the left."
Rowan's chest rumbled against her back with a low growl, Aelin lightly elbowed him in the gut but was still grateful for his pissy-ness.
The Highlord ignored him and looked down at Feyre, "We will be going to the mountain house."
He scooped his mate up in his arms, and Feyre let out a yelp before a giggle as she pressed her lips to Rhysand's. He kicked open the door and that was that.
A silence hung in the air before Mor sighed, "I'm leaving," she looked around at her court, "I suggest you do the same."
Then she disappeared out the door as well. One winged male followed her immediately, it was only a second before the remaining female left.
The male, Aelin remembered to be Cassian, still sat in a chair, he nodded, "Have a pleasant ride."
Rowan's savage growl ripped through the room and Cassian darted from the house before he got his ass beat.
Rowan stayed baring his teeth at the door before he turn to Aelin
"What does m'lady desire?"
Aelin blushed and grinned at her husband, she took in a long breath of his scent- "How long has it been since you bathed?"
Rowan grunted and began to guide her up the stairs, "I get it."
Still content to tease him she replied, "Do you just stop taking baths when I'm not around?"
"I'll have you know I have taken a bath. But not since I've come here because there was never chance."
Aelin hummed, pressing a kiss to his scarred shoulder, "How did you get here?"
They found the room easily, it was spacious enough with a giant fluffy bed, a beautiful view of the breath taking night sky and the small town below it, Rowan promised Aelin that he would show the town to her before they left- to give her hope of what Terrasen could be. She liked the idea, then they found the bathroom.
Aelin sat on the bath's ledge while Rowan climbed into it. He washed, telling her of how he had gotten here and all that had happened after she had been taken. Though he didn't let it show, she knew that if it wasn't for the overwhelming joy of finally being reunited he would be yelling and shouting at her for what she had planned, the secrets she had kept. Aelin also knew it was an argument they would have soon, as soon as the bliss ran out.
She just stayed on the rim rubbing the shampoo into his silver hair, it had gotten longer since she had last seen him. Long enough to braid. By the time he noticed what she was doing she had already braided half his head. He snarled and ran his hand through it, ruining her hard work.
Rowan only asked her once about the Iron coffin and Maeve, of what she had endured- she saw the pain in his eyes everytime he saw her frail limbs or the scars, cuts, and burns. She didn't want to add to it yet by telling him the details of all the torment that was still concealed under her clothes or skin. Plus, Aelin wasn't sure she could face it either, so she swore to Rowan she would tell him later and he let it drop.
Thirty minutes later she was wrapped in blankets in front of a roaring fire, her perfect mate beside her whispering the sweet words of the old language in her ear until she finally fell into a dreamless sleep of pine and snow.
SO the release of ACOWAR kinda crept up on me, there will be one more chapter. Expect it to be hastily put together- but then who cares because ACOWAAAAARR WHO-HOO! Hoped you enjoyed and thank you so so much for all the support, your comments have been wonderful! If you have any ideas for a new fanfic please tell me because I have absolutely none! G'day my fair folk!