Getting close to the truth

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"What happened to you?" Rowan's voice was soft but it cut through the tension in the air like a hot knife slicing butter.

She pressed her eyes shut and shook her head, feeling lightheaded now that the adrenaline had worn off. The sound of crunching leaves filled the air, probably Rowan trying to get closer, and the memories insider her head split her down the middle. Celaena clutched her stomach, bile climbing up her throat as she leaned to one side, retching. Rowan was lingering on the edge of her blurry vision.

"Are you okay?"

She lifted a hand trying to keep him away and then retched again, nothing coming out; just memories trying to push their way out of her body. She wiped her forehead and then touched the back of her head; her hand came out bloody and sticky. She barely recalled the fall and the way her head had hit the rocky side of the cliff, but the blood on her hand was nothing compared to what she'd been through before. But still, the memories came back to her like a movie. She took a deep breath. There had been so much blood, so much pain. She breathed again. At the memory of the sound of glass breaking her stomach knotted again, her pulse going wild.

"I can take you to Fenrys, he can look into that wound. I promise you, I have no ill intentions," Rowan's voice cut through the spiral and Celaena told herself to concentrate on the sound of it, on what was in front of her.

She looked up, felt the grass underneath her, smelled the ocean, and pushing herself from the trunk -its bark rough against her calloused hands- she stood on trembling legs.

"Why were you following me? Why... Why work for Maeve? Why..." She staggered to the side and held herself back up, a hand braced against the tree. "I can't trust you."

It was stated matter-of-factly.

Celaena hated feeling this weak, she hadn't felt like this since the fight with Cain, and that was another episode not to be thought about. She was Fireheart, she was strong, she was fierce.

Still, her vision was clouded with shiny spots.

Bloody physical limitations, Fireheart thought with a grunt.

"But you trusted Fenrys," Rowan said, and he sounded hurt for a second. "You trusted him before, you can trust him again."

"It was life or death, it was different. And you're not Fenrys."

A flicker of pain passed through Rowan's face, but it was gone in a second.

"It's the same thing... And I don't think you should ride like this," he stated, pointing at her bike still lying on its side. "Let me take you home, take you somewhere, anywhere," he insisted.

Celaena knew she was in no condition to ride, but she wasn't going to give him that pleasure. She considered riding a few blocks and then resting on the side of the road until she was better. She walked to her bike and lifted it with a grunt. Sometimes her body felt like a cage, like a limitation to everything she could've been; and no matter the amount of training, injuries always happened, and her body always pushed her back one way or another.

It was utterly frustrating.

It reminded her of the endless nights locked in her room, unable to move, barely able to eat... She shook the memories away, trying to keep them at bay.

Rowan went the other way, lifted his own bike, and picked up his helmet from where it had rolled off to.

"Please?" He sighed. "I'll take you to see Fenrys, we'll make sure you're fine, you can get changed into something clean and appropriate to walk back into the hotel with, and then I'll get Connall to come with me to pick up your bike. After we know you're fine, I'll answer some of your questions if you want. We can sort this out. I promise it's not what it looked like... I'm pretty certain we're on the same side of this struggle."

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