Nameless ( A Court of Mist and Fury and Throne of Glass Crossover)

Sleep

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.