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

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It had been the middle of the night- or early morning, Aelin was curled on Rowan's chest. Her breathing steady. Then he had felt her shake and violently lurch in his arms, her sharp nails tearing at his skin. Rowan had tried to wake her before the flame had exploded from her throat and fingertips. The fae male in him had panicked and he only could feel- or think of Aelin. He had forgotten of the room that was being blackened or the world that was at threat of being destroyed. Then his mate's eyes had snapped open- her flame retreating into her flesh. 

For less than a second had Aelin been in the thrall of her flames, yet her flame had lashed across the room- searing everything in its way. Including himself, Rowan had realised when Aelin pulled away from him, shaking in horror at the burns she had caused. She had cried and cried, just repeating she was sorry over and over again. The burns had been minor- even with his mind completely absent, his magic had prevented the fire from getting far- they healed by morning. But once Aelin's tears had started, they hadn't stopped. She had stopped weeping about hurting her mate and started weeping about all the pain she had been through. Aelin had told him as much as she could through her tears- of the whippings, how Cairn had slowly removed each bone in her body and reassembled her, and of the illusions Maeve had woven from her darkness and forced her to live through. There was still more to tell, but their voices had become hoarse and they had both ran out of tears. Rowan had padded to the closet for new blankets, that he wrapped her in after giving his shirt for her to wear. Aelin had fallen asleep cradled in his arms. He had stayed awake, memorizing the lines of her face and the rhythm of her breathing. 

Now Rowan and his wife were down in the kitchen with the Night Court. Aelin was sitting with her legs crossed on a cushioned chair at the food filled table. 

He was on her right, while she was talking to Feyre to her left, "I may have seared the room we were in." Feyre raised her eyebrows, "I did sear the room we were in." she corrected herself. 

Cassian snickered from across the room, "Damn, that's kinky." Rowan's hand clenched around Aelin's fingers and a warning growl shook the plates, Cassian only grinned wider, "Is that why you look so tired, Aelin?" 

Rowan snarled and shot from his chair, fortunately for Cassian Aelin's hand quickly grabbed his shoulder and tugged him down to his seat, "Don't be such a territorial Fae bastard." 

His soft snarl was covered by Mor's chuckle.

 "Territorial Fae bastard?" Feyre repeated, as if she was trying the words on her tongue, "That's nice, mind if I use that?" 

Aelin shrugged, her hand leaving Rowan's, "Sure, if you want." she grimaced, "...But the room?" 

Feyre waved her off, "It's fine, don't worry about it." 

Mor slid into the chair opposite her Highlady, "How exactly did you get here? If we're supposed to help you get to your world we need to know." she asked Aelin

"Do you have to get back immediately?" Feyre said, looking hopeful that they would stay. 

His queen hesitated, Rowan knew Aelin wasn't ready to slip back into the role of Queen yet. She was still holding on and hiding so many things. It was better she have a breakdown here and now- where no one relied on her than in Terrasen, where she had to be strong for her court. But if she wanted to return to Erilea, he would help her get through whatever happened when everything came out. Even if they were in the middle of war, he would be strong enough for them both. And if Aelin needed more time away from being queen he would give her the time- by being her king. 

"Yeah, I need to go home." Aelin answered after her pause, Rowan reached out and squeezed her hand, she squeezed back. 

Leaning back in his chair with one arm around Feyre, Rhysand prompted, "So how did you come upon our world?"