It was like seeing Aelin for the first time all over again, not only due to the time they had spent apart, but how much of her had changed. So many new scars and burns he hadn't been there to protect her from, and though the loose clothes she wore concealed her form, he could tell she was deathly skinny. From the fingers that wrapped around the dagger she held, the sharp points of her shoulders, the delicate column of her neck, and her hollow cheekbones, gone were the curves he had worshiped those blissful weeks. Rowan raised his gaze to her eyes, they were the same eyes, but they weren't, like she had built a solid divide between her and the base instinct to survive. Rowan had seen it before in his soldiers and comrades, and Aelin had welcomed it like an old friend, but it still was a punch in stomach when she met his eyes and nothing happened, her eyes didn't light up, or glint. Her lips didn't twitch upwards, or fall open, and her feet didn't move an inch. For a second Rowan thought she was going to back away from him. In that second all the fantasies of their reunion were erased, that just them being together again would solve all the problems. And the reality settled in, a reality that he had always known but never accepted, she had been tortured, tormented, and violated for almost a year, and she would forever be affected by what had happened and she may never be the same. It would be like starting all over again, she may not even love him anymore and she may never love him again. Rowan accepted this the best he could, and slowly stepped forward. He steadied his ragged breathing, holding her gaze. When she didn't bolt or shy away like he had half expected her to, he approached her cautiously, until her head had to tilt up to look at his face.

"Aelin?" he whispered, her scent flooded through him and he was overcome by the urge to wrap her in his arms and just hold her forever and never let her go. But he didn't, because he no longer knew her- he did not know this Aelin, and he didn't know how she would react, or what memories his touches would stir.

In the moment Rowan waited for her reaction the only thing he could feel and hear was the pounding in his chest. Aelin stayed still and emotionless, until one eyebrow slowly raised up. He could almost hear an echo of her amused, lovely voice whispering buzzard back. It was an action so familiar, so like the Aelin he knew, he couldn't help the relief the flooded through him, his lips twitching up into a full blown grin. For a second.

He reached between them, brushing his hand against her cold fingers, and gently took the dagger away from her. Rowan bent down, keeping her gaze, and set the dagger on the grass- To give her time to analyze, to adjust to him, and just to show that he wasn't a threat and she didn't need to fight anymore- he would never let anyone touch her again. Rowan rose to his full height, and reached towards her again, latching his fingertips to Aelin's. He swallowed.

"Do you want to go home?"

She mindlessly nodded, the alert leaving her eyes, replaced by layer upon layer of weariness. Rowan guided her a step forward, pulling her by her fingers.

Aelin's legs moved but they were shaky and weak, he wondered how she could stand at all. Rowan stepped backwards, he slid an arm across her back, bringing her arm around his neck. When she didn't protest Rowan grasped her legs and plucked her up. She rested her head against his chest. He felt his heart sink further at how light she was, the rough bumps of skin on her back that imprinted his flesh, and the bones he could feel dig into his chest and biceps.

He carried her to the pathetic excuse for a safe haven, a run down inn. Luckily no one was in the inn's bar when they entered, Aelin had fallen asleep but Rowan could feel his fae instincts taking control. In his arms, he held his injured, helpless, mate. Though he liked to think he had more control than most fae males, he knew he could perceive the slightest glance in Aelin's direction as a threat.

Rowan padded up the stairs to the room, his feet not making a sound. His body was tense, ears perked up, and eyes darting at every creak of floorboards. He could not remember a time where he had ever been this alert- this on edge. He glanced down at Aelin who was limp in his arms. She seemed so fragile. He was afraid to hold her too tightly lest she crumble to ash, or to hold her too softly, afraid the light draft would carry her away. Her head lolled to the side, and fell over his arm, exposing her throat. For a horrid moment it looked like Aelin was dead- not sleeping, and Rowan gripped her tighter just to reassure himself. He didn't let himself take her in, didn't give the wrath the time to bubble up at the sight of the scars and burns, the purple bruises in the shape of hands that covered every bit of exposed skin.

When he reached the door he was forced to release his mates legs, holding her up with one arm, so he could unlock it. She stirred, and when Rowan went to pick her up again she let out a sound close to a feeble snarl and dug her sharp fingers into his neck.

Rowan obliged his queen, allowing her to take the few steps to the bed with his arm still firmly wrapped around her thin waist. He lowered Aelin to the crisp sheets, tugging the wool blankets up to her neck. He took a long stride to the door, locked and bolted it. He drew the curtains shut, and checked every corner of the room for weaknesses or a threat, always keeping one eye on her.

Rowan sighed when he had secured the room best he could, pathetic, it was pathetic that this was the best he could provide his mate. Mate. She was his mate. He should have known, he had been too blind to see it, and had let her carry another burden on her already weighed down shoulders. Rowan wouldn't let it happen again, he would let any of this happen again. Aelin's eyes had closed and her breath had turned deep and steady in the time it had taken him to inspect. He approached her slowly, desperately wanting to touch, kiss, caress her. But Rowan didn't want to startle her, and he want her to mistake his touches as their touches, he would wait until she was ready, until she initiated it. He crawled beside her onto the bed, sitting with his legs crossed. He just watched her for a moment, pulling the blankets up her arms. He reached out, but paused, before brushing away the crinkled golden strands from her face. Despite his resolve not to touch her, he brushed a hand down her arm as he pulled away, settling his hand in hers. Lacing their finger together.

Rowan sat waiting for her to wake up, the only thing keeping him sane was her steady breathing.

Aelin drifted into consciousness, the memories of the day surfacing in her thoughts like rain drops. Rowan. She remembered being wrapped in pine and snow, pressed up against a familiar body. Ever since she had miraculously escaped Maeve's clutches it was hard to tell the difference between the tormenting dreams and reality. Aelin would wake up screaming and panting, believing that her freedom was just a dream and she was back in that coffin, that it was just another one of the illusions Maeve liked to torture her with. She didn't know how the queen had made her see those things, she wasn't sure if they were inflicted by the queen herself or some fae who was just following orders. There were still things in her memory that though all logic told her were illusions, she couldn't help but think of them as truths. As actual events. And this was how the most sadistic ones would progress, they would give her hope: letting her escape, then they would give her unworldly joy: Rowan, safe and unharmed, her mate carrying her to safety. And then she would wake up to the iron door of the coffin being thrown open and broad hands pulling her out by her wrists, arms, waist, hair, neck- whatever Cairn felt like grabbing that day.

So when she opened her eyes that's what she expected, what Aelin saw was far more painful. Lovely loops and swirls of deepest black giving into golden tanned skin, a sharp chiseled chin peppered in small white hairs, ruffled silver hair that was beginning to surpass sharp ears, and his eyes- despite the dark circles under them they were alight with life, and hope, and soul-crushing relief. But it was all fake.

"Fireheart?" he whispered, voice hoarse from having no one to speak to for months.

His hand trailed up from her hand, to her arm, to her cheek. Aelin tensed, near flinching and Rowan's whole body stilled, she began to wonder just how cruel they would be today.

Rowan made to pull his hand away but Aelin stilled him with a hand to his forearm, drawing his hand back to her cheek. She had learned to savor these moments even if it made the events that followed more painful.

Rowan scooted closer to her, lying his head down inches away from hers. His hand was the only thing touching her, but she could feel his heat and scent radiating towards her. He inhaled sharply, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he rested his forehead against hers. He was being so gentle and cautious that a sliver of doubt entered her mind, that maybe this was real, maybe he was here.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, his breath caressing her features.

She shook her head.

"Fireheart, why are you not speaking?"

Aelin's eyes left Rowan's and looked at the center of his chest.

"Because you aren't here." she breathed, almost too low for his fae ears to catch.

Rowan's eyebrows knitted together in concern, and he moved his fingers to trace the shell of her ear, "What do you mean, princess?"

"You're not here, you're just a dream- an illusion, and I'm going to wake up soon. Or it's going to turn into a nightmare."

A pained expression washed over his beautiful face, making Aelin regret saying anything. He pressed his palm to her forehead.

Her fae prince muttered something to himself, looking away from her, it sounded like scolding and she made a weak noise of protest.

"I need to get you water and food." Rowan said, rising from the bed, his hand holding hers.

She sighed, "I'm not hungry."

He looked over frame that was concealed under a pile of blankets, she knew what he was thinking. Aelin wanted to snarl at him for the pity but she couldn't muster up the energy.

Rowan smiled sadly, "I can at least get you water."

He looked sidelong at the water jug across the room and it lifted on a pillow of air slowly floating towards Rowan's stretched out arm. He held the glass as the pitcher tilted to pour the water, never letting go of her hand. Even though he didn't have the usual glint in his eyes she knew he was showing off, trying to pry some lighthearted reaction from her. For a second time a flicker of hope appeared, maybe this wasn't an illusion.

The bed shifted as Rowan sat down beside her, he held the glass in front of her, "drink."

Aelin obeyed sitting up in the bed, she could feel his eyes watching her every movement as she drank. He didn't speak until she had finished the whole thing, when she finally had, he took the glass from her setting it on the bedside table. Kneeling down on the floor by the bed, looking up at her.

Rowan paused before brushing a strand of hair from her face- like he couldn't help it.

In a quiet and gentle voice he asked, "You think you're dreaming?"

Aelin looked at him, this seemed real, in the illusions it had always been this outburst of joy and energy that would all crumble down in an instant. But this was realistic, she hurt all over, he was holding back his words and touches, she flinched when he raised his hand or brushed her skin. There hadn't been any of that pain and crippling reality of how broken she was in her illusions. And she had escaped hadn't she? She had gone to sleep and woken up covered in sweat thinking she was back in the coffin, and each time she had awoken in the wilderness, no iron walls around her.

"I don't know." Aelin replied, and she hated how weak her voice sounded, hated how weak the words were.

Rowan leaned forward, burying his face in her thin neck, for the first time she didn't shy from the touch. This felt real, this felt like him.

"I'm here Aelin," He pulled away, lips brushing the skin on her cheek. Rowan looked into her eyes, "and you're safe, and I love you." he said it like his willpower alone would fix her. And maybe it would because the flicker of hope she had felt before returned stronger. Aelin wasn't sure if it was her grogginess running off or the water, but her logical mind was analyzing and connecting dots and it had concluded that this was real, that this was happening.

Aelin's eyes darted between Rowan's features, she was trying to piece everything together but she still looked at him blankly. Not like he was her husband, her mate. It splintered his heart to see her like this, he didn't hold back the tears that streamed from his eyes. The need to hold and touch Aelin was overpowering, he knew he shouldn't overwhelm her or frighten her, but he still leaned forward, wrapping one arm around her blanket covered frame, and pressing his face to her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry Aelin."

She followed him with her eyes, and her eyes became a little less dull, flaring with confusion and hurt.

"Why? You..." Aelin's voice faded away, and he looked up at her from his kneeling position on the dirty floor.

Rowan pulled his arm away, "I should have been there. I should have protected you. I should have known that we're-" don't overwhelm her he growled at himself, "I should have known. And I shouldn't have let you carry any of those burdens alone."

Her voice was hoarse when she tried to speak, "Row-" her voice broke, and she stopped like she couldn't hold enough air in her lungs to speak. Aelin gasped, but continued on her voice even more feeble that before, "those were my choices."

Rowan brushed the hair from her forehead, "We'll talk about everything later." he paused, studying her face, and cupping her cheek, "But I'm here Aelin, you're not ever going back to that place or any place like it. This isn't a dream, I'm here, you're safe."

He rose slightly resting his forehead against hers, "You believe me, don't you?" Aelin nodded and relief washed over Rowan. Other thoughts and concerns still floated in his mind, what were the dreams of? What had he done in them? But that could wait till later.

She was talking. That was good. He needed to get her food.

Rowan rose to his feet, a hand on her shoulder, "Can you walk? Or I can carry you if you want."

"Why?" she groaned

"I need to get you food."

"Can't I stay here." The voice was still weak, but it sounded like the Aelin he knew and he resisted a small smile.

"No." He didn't have to look at her to know she was asking why not.

"I need you to come with me, Aelin." he pleaded.

Rowan couldn't handle the idea of leaving her alone in the room unprotected, the old Aelin would have called him a territorial fae bastard for it but- even drawing his hand away from her, the absence of her touch, sent waves of panic through him.

Aelin stared at him for a moment before answering, "I'll walk."

It had only taken a few minutes to go down and get the food, Rowan had insisted that she wear one of his enormous robes, and had held her tightly to his side the whole time. Aelin didn't mind much, her legs were already throbbing from all the miles she had hiked, and she was allowing herself the hope to enjoy him, to trust what logic was reassuring her of. But she was tired, so tired.

She had no desire to eat, just to hurl it up, when Rowan sat her down on the bed. At the present she felt okay, she felt pain at every movement but she felt sane, or at least saner than she had in months, but it was all a facade. Aelin knew that soon all the repressing of the memories and feelings would catch up with her and she wouldn't be able to hide how broken she really was, from Rowan, or the world anymore.

If it already caused Rowan so much pain to see her like this, how would it affect him if he knew everything, if he saw everything.

"Eat." Rowan commanded, handing her a spoon and holding the stew in front of her.

"I'm not hungry." she insisted

Rowan sighed, his hair falling over his eyes, it had grown quite a lot since she had last seen him, not to mention the stubble growing on his chin.

"Please Fireheart, you need to regain your strength."

Aelin crossed her arms, "I'm just going to throw it up."

"Five spoonfuls, and then you can rest, or take a bath," he smiled, "or read? Anything you want."

Aelin's lips twitched upward, "You brought books?"

"No, but I can get one." he replied blandly.

Aelin ate three bites before the bile stung her throat, Rowan reacted immediately, grabbing a basin.

She hurled in it, Rowan patiently waited holding her hair away from her face. Aelin pulled away and groaned, she didn't want to eat another bite, the flavor was so strong and just disgusting.

Rowan must have really been feeling bad about the situation because he took the spoon away from her and set down the plate.

"That's enough." he said softly, leaving room for her to protest if she wished. She didn't, instead nodding her thanks.

Rowan placed a hand on her knee, "What does my Princess want?"

"I want to read, I need to bathe."

Rowan smiled again and despite the circumstances at that moment she felt content.

"You can have both, my Majesty."

Aelin's lips twitched upwards, and she decided to humor his banter, "Well then, be a good Prince and fetch me a book."

Rowan paused for a second, "I actually don't know where I would find a book."

Aelin's joking response came out quiet and hoarse due to another wave of weariness, "So you lied to me?"

The Prince grimaced, "I could tell you war stories if you want."

"I don't want to hear about war." her voice still small and quiet.

Rowan's smile faded, "What if I tell you stories of all the wonderful places I've seen, while you take your bath?" he offered.

Aelin nodded, and in one fluid motion he picked her up. She would have protested but she was weak, and his scent encasing her was so pleasant. She inhaled his scent as Rowan carried her to bathroom. He set her down on the side of the tub, and began to fill it with hot water. When he was done he stood, looking at her expectantly.

Heat stained her cheeks, Aelin hadn't thought this far ahead. She wasn't ready to show him her scars and injuries or her horribly malnourished body. Rowan inhaled sharply as he recognized her hesitation but offered a reassuring smile and turned around, his back now facing her. Though he did so so casually she saw how his eyes darkened and his fists clenched, and even though the aggression was not directed at her, she still felt guilty. Like she was rejecting him.

Aelin stripped as quickly as possible, her eyes flickering back to Rowan who didn't look towards her once. She lowered her thin filthy body into the warm water and couldn't help but groan, noting Rowan's ears twitching at the sound.

After a moment that Aelin had used to start lathering herself with soap Rowan's voice echoed through the bathroom, "Are you ready?" he asked, still not turning towards her.

The blush returned to her cheeks, "One moment." he nodded, but she still felt that quilt.

Aelin washed her body as quickly as possible, until the water was so foggy with soap and dirt that you couldn't see the body underneath, she sunk lower, up to her collar bone.

"Okay, I'm ready."

Rowan turned and as he approached her he grabbed the shampoo from the ledge. "Can I wash your hair?" he asked gently.

Aelin nodded and smiled, and at the conformation Rowan knelt down behind her, and began to lather her hair, fingers gently pulling through the tangles. She didn't bother to hold back the sigh as his nails lightly scratched her scalp, his fingers occasionally drifting to her neck, shoulders, and ears as he told her his stories of far away and beautiful lands.

Rowan was glad to remind Aelin of that night almost years ago when they had first reunited, hoping it would ground her in reality, erase any doubt she had that this was some dream.

The water had gone cold, and Aelin was beginning to complain, he didn't remind her that she could use her magic to heat it. Instead he took a towel and started to dry her hair, "I love you, Fireheart." She didn't respond, but her lips slowly stretched into a pleasant smile and that was enough for Rowan. He wanted to kiss her forehead, her neck, her ears, her cheeks, her nose, her eyelids, it was just this never ending need to reassure himself she was here, and to comfort her.

He smiled softly, "Do you want me to braid it?" She gave a weary sigh but answered, "Yes actually." and he did what he was told.

He handed her a towel, "Thank you." Aelin responded, holding his gaze before saying, "I need clean clothes too."

Rowan's lips pursed together, "I don't have any clothes for you. I guess mine will have to do." Aelin tried and failed to roll her eyes as a clean shirt and cloak floated into the bathroom. He wordlessly grinned at her, then turned, stepping away to give her the privacy she wanted.

Even though Rowan could hear the water slosh and the soft pad of her feet as she got out of the bath fear still surged up in him that when he turned back to Aelin she would be gone, or hurt . It disturbed him that Aelin wasn't comfortable with sharing her body or wounds with him, didn't she know that he would never judge her, and that he only wanted to see her wounds to ensure she was okay? Of course, it was her decision and like he kept having to remind himself he would not pressure her, but it scared him. Scared him that they had had this effect upon his Fireheart and scared for what it would mean in the future. Boiling wrath that bubbled up in him whenever she flinched or he saw the jagged lines adoring her body, or thought about all the things that could have happened that he did not know of.

They would pay.

"Okay." Aelin said, and Rowan spun on his heels to face her. Relief washed through him when he found her the same as he had left her, albeit in his shirt and tunic that now dwarfed her even more than before. He felt that familiar male satisfaction rumble through him- she was wrapped in his scent.

Aelin forced Rowan to let her walk back to the bed, even though she flinched every step. When she was finally in bed once again under a mountain of blankets he made to climb in after her, but hesitated, "Is it okay if I don't wear a shirt?"

Aelin raised an eyebrow, telling him that yes, it was fine, and he tugged off his shirt throwing it somewhere behind him. Something in Rowan purred when he noticed her admiring his bare chest. He crawled beside her sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her close, he looked down to check she was alright, finding her head rested on his shoulder with a faint smile. Rowan assumed this meant she was fine with the closeness, and he leaned down, whispering into her ear "I missed you."

He saw Aelin smirk, and he knew what was coming, "We weren't apart that long." she replied mocking his disinterested voice.

Rowan rolled his eyes but continued, "So? Am I not allowed to miss you?"

Rowan's smiled was washed away when he remembered what came next. She swallowed and her tone darkened as she said, meeting his eyes, "You once told me that people you care about are weapons to be used against you. Missing me was a foolish distraction."

He swallowed and leaned in closer, his chin and cheek pressed to her forehead and hair, "I'm sorry, Aelin." Sorry for every time he had hurt her, or made her feel worthless and cowardly, sorry for all the times he hadn't been there to protect her.

"Rowan," she began, drawing away from him, looking at the prickly silver hairs covering his jaw, "You're shaving first thing in the morning."

Then Aelin rested her head in his chest and fell asleep, Rowan stayed awake watching her, ready to wake her up as soon as he smelled fear on her, ready to hold her through the night and all the memories it would bring, ready to kill anyone who entered that door.

Ayyye! Wanted reunited Rowaelin in my life so I wrote it. (I'm sorry I wrote this long ass chapter instead of updating my crossover)